Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
M ac
“He’s not here. It’s his day off,” Darla says, walking up to me as I approach the bar.
“How did you know?” I look at her confused.
“You come in here about once a year and yet this is the third time in a month so I know it’s not me you’ve come to see.”
“It might be the beer.” I shrug.
“I’ve always had the best beers in the region so I’m not buying it.” She leans back against the counter opposite and crosses her arms. It’s true, she hand picks the beers, supports local breweries, and rotates a good choice. I also know she’s fastidious about hygiene, the pipes are cleaned through properly, and the glasses are spotless, all making for an excellent pint.
“You want a drink, then, or are you applying to be a bar ornament so I don’t have to charge you rent for taking up space?”
I look up and down the bar, noting the lack of customers, which mid-afternoon on a weekday is not unusual.
“Taking up space?” I raise my eyebrows at her.
“Do you want a drink or not?” she says drily.
“I’m working,” I reply. She shakes her head and pushes off from the counter before walking away from me.
“Well, you know where he is,” she says over her shoulder, clearly dismissing me. I try not to let the irritation that she guessed my reason for visiting get to me. Darla is always too good at working people out—years of working behind a bar, I guess. Even as kids she would hang around, out of the way while her parents ran the bar. It’s in her blood. But still, my visit is purely professional. Absolutely nothing else. I could’ve got Shari to do a follow up, but she’s worked a lot of hours recently, and we still have a lot of work to do. She could do with some time off. It is definitely not the feeling deep in my core that was ignited the first time I met Levi that pulls me back. The spark I can’t extinguish. It can’t be, because I’m ignoring that; to do anything else would be very unprofessional. I just want to give him an update on the case—which I could have done by phone—but I also want to check up on him, see how he is after his statement.
A feeling so strong I’m willing to go to my mum’s house to see him.
I take a deep breath before I knock on the door, bracing myself to see my mum again for the first time in a few years. I’m certainly not prepared for Levi to open the door. My knees nearly buckle at how fucking beautiful he is; my dreams don’t touch the reality. I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep control, and Levi looks equally caught off guard given the surprised expression that crosses his face before it closes down and he narrows his eyes at me.
“You looking for your mum?” he asks, his tone surly.
“No,” I bark out, momentarily forgetting why I’m here.
“I thought not.” He practically sneers at me and I ignore the slight. That he knows about the estrangement from my mum doesn’t surprise me, it’s not a secret, and he doesn’t get to judge me, but if I bite back at him, I’ve lost.
“I’ve come to see you.”
He doesn’t say anything, but steps back from the door before turning and walking along the hallway. I take it as an invitation to come in, so I follow him into the small cottage, closing the door behind me.
I pause, taking a moment to look around me—the narrow hallway which opens out to a lobby, doors leading off to the kitchen, dining room, and lounge, and the stairs behind me that run up to the bedrooms and bathroom. It feels the same, smells the same as it did. Memories crowd around me. Images of me running through the cottage, clattering down the stairs to find my mum to tell her something I’d discovered about the stars and planets, an obsession of mine when I was younger and a hobby I no longer have time for. The smell of her baking filling the kitchen, the clack of her knitting needles as she creates sweaters and blankets and everything else you can imagine. An emptiness fills my chest at a past I can’t recapture—it’s too late now—not only a childhood that was a mirage of reality but all the years in between. I take a few breaths before walking through into the kitchen where Levi disappeared.
Another wave of nostalgia hits me as I enter. Nothing has changed. Maybe some appliances have been updated but the tiles are still the same, and the pine Welsh dresser holding her collection of teapots, including the one I broke aged eight when I was over exuberant with a transformer plane, Jetfire. I’m sure if I looked carefully, I could see the join where my mum glued the handle back on.
“What do you want?” Levi’s voice seems distant and I stare at him confused for a few seconds, bringing the present back into focus.
“How are you doing?” It’s lame but my brain is still full of fog.
Levi gives a small grimace and shrugs. Of course he’s not going to tell me, he has no reason to trust me. Standing on opposite sides of the kitchen isn’t going to help either.
“Would you like to sit down?” I ask, and he still doesn’t speak but pulls a chair out and sits. He averts his eyes, starting down at the surface of the table. It feels like he’s trying to stay as far away from me as possible. I’m partly grateful, because distance is good, but also I hate that he feels the need to. I sit across the table from him and take out my notebook. I briefly fill him in on the parts I can disclose, including the probable trial date. That, he does react to, and his eyes flick to me. It was a surprise to me too, but it’s a high profile case so they want to deal with it as quickly as possible.
I ask him if he recognises any names from a list I read out—others who had the same parole officer, some who went to the same juvenile detention centre as he did, though not at the same time. He confirms that he knew a few of them and although I can’t say anything to him, nearly all the young men on my list said they’d been propositioned by Winstanton in a similar way. Several of them he’d tried to recruit, others he promised a reduction in parole length. All of them have helped strengthen Levi’s testimony. If it was just his alone, we’d never be able to get the charges brought—not without some hard evidence, which we’re still working on.
My fingers instinctively run along the edge of the stripped-pine table, finding the place where I carved my initials in it when I was sixteen. I rub my fingers over them, feeling the familiar grooves under my skin. I can’t remember how many times I found the action soothing over the years... dealing with discovering I was gay, wondering how to come out to my mum. She was very good about it all and very supportive, allowing me to talk through my feelings. That made the betrayal I found out about later all the more hurtful. I dismiss those thoughts for now, because going back over them won’t change anything. Levi traces some of the other scratches that criss-cross the table, visual evidence of the life lived here—hours spent doing homework, playing, helping with baking. His face is unguarded and he looks younger than normal, vulnerable. I fight the urge to want to gather him up and take away his hurt.
“I think you’re brave,” I say, and his fingers cease their movement. He slowly lifts his face, his grey eyes like stone.
“It doesn’t feel like it,” he answers sullenly.
“To put yourself forward like that is brave. You could’ve left it; you’ve already paid the price. But I want you to know that what you did has given us a chance to have further charges put on Winstanton, ones that will show people his true nature.
“I just want to see that bastard get what he deserves,” he says. You and me both, Levi.
“How are you settling in here?” I ask, sitting back and trying to put him more at ease.
“What do you care?” A little light sparkles in his eyes, a hopeful expression on his face. My breath catches. I do care, too much, more than I have a right to. But that doesn’t change anything. I can’t say that, though. I can’t give myself away.
“You’re an important witness, Levi. Of course I care,” I say impassively and his eyes dull. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, but then he sets his jaw and squares up to me.
“It’s good. Your mum has been wonderful. She cooks and bakes for me, though she doesn’t have to. She’s really welcomed me.”
“I’m glad,” I say, because I truly mean it, and I know that would be exactly what she’d do. Whatever Darla’s motives were, I have felt a little easier knowing Levi was being cared for by my mum.
He drops his eyes to the table again, and his fingers return to follow the patterns of life etched in the table.
“She’s been like a mum to me,” he says, his voice cracking, pain running through it like a seam of coal. “Unlike the one who abandoned me.”
“I’m sorry you never had that,” I say and he slowly raises his head to look at me.
“I didn’t, but you did, and you gave it up. Why do you hate her?”
“I don’t hate her,” I reply. Hurt, yes. Anger, definitely. But I’ve never hated my mum. I just hated the lies she let me believe for eighteen years. I recall Ami’s words; maybe it is time to try to make amends.
“Then why? Why give it up?” Levi’s voice raises and his eyes turn to steel. “Why give it up when you had everything?”
“I didn’t have everything,” I say, trying to keep calm but feeling the old anger bubbling up. “I never had a father!” I didn’t add that the knowledge of who I thought my father was had been torn away like a ripping off a plaster, except the sting had never gone away.
Levi stands violently, the chair clattering away behind him.
“Better no father than one that beats you,” he almost shouts.
My blood runs cold. I had no idea what his home life was like. I hadn’t allowed myself to get close enough to know, to care, because now I do, I won’t be able to stop.
“Do you know what it was like coming home from school to a violent drunk? And a mum who didn’t care enough about you to take you with her when she got free?”
“I’m so sorry, Levi.” It’s woefully inadequate. I know and so does he as his face lifts in defiance.
“I don’t want your pity,” he spits. “I want to know what sort of person would give up a perfect home life.”
I’m not going to tell him, not now, not like this.
He stands before me, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched. He’s still beautiful when angry, maybe even more so. His flashing eyes remind me again of a hellcat. I watch transfixed by a vein pulsing in his neck. Would I feel the rhythm of his heart if I ran my tongue over it?
His jaw softens and he licks his lips, and my eyes snap to them, an action he notices. He tilts his head slightly, and one side of his mouth lifts. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. His lips part almost imperceptibly. I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t so focussed on them. I’ve never before wanted to kiss someone as much as I want to devour his mouth right now. I want him so badly it hurts. Levi advances, lust replacing the anger in his eyes, and I struggle to keep a slim grip on the threads of my self-control. I allow him to get close—too close and I can feel his breath on my skin, unable to make a move until a tiny part of my rational brain kicks in and I stop him with a hand on his chest.
“Levi.” My voice is thick with desire. “I’ve told you this can’t happen. It can never happen.”
His face twists, the anger that was still bubbling below the surface showing in a sneer. “I thought you were different, but you’re not. You’re just like the rest of them.”
The sound of the front door closing reaches us and a voice calls out. My mum.
“Levi? Are you there?”
I take three steps back as my mum walks into the kitchen.
“Mackinley?” Shock is evident on her face.
“Mum.”
“I . . . This is a nice surprise.”
I look back at Levi but he’s turned away, once again shielding his face from me. My heart hollows, but my head knows it’s for the best. I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin. I need to get away from him, regain my self control.
“I’m just leaving,” I almost growl.
“Will you stay? For a cup of tea. Please?” I see a spark of hope in her eyes, but I can’t. Not right now.
“I can’t,” I say harshly, my emotions still in control. The flicker dies in her eyes and I relent, taking her olive branch for what it is. “But I will... soon.”
I walk past her and keep on going, not daring to look back.