Chapter 28
Oliver
“There is a lot of trust here,” he said, pressing the teabag against the side of the cup. “Letting me make you tea.”
“Oh, I don’t know about this.” I faked looking nervous, sat at the kitchen counter.
Not at the table. There were chairs here too.
So many fucking chairs. I was still getting used to it.
A home. Being home. Belonging here. All new.
All the things it meant. What it could mean, as long as I kept going. Steady. One little bit at a time.
“You know everything is going to be fine, don’t you?” he continued on, picking up on my little shudder.
“Yeah,” I said. “Last night I felt really brave. And then I didn’t.”
I was learning fast here. Say what comes out of your mouth.
Get it out. And then you move on, and Peter will still love you.
Simple. It was actually, because the more I spoke, the better this whole idea of being here, with him, became.
Super weird, but true. The dopamine shots were coming in thick and fast, and I was soaking them up like the addict I was.
This was different, though. These kicks were actually good for me.
“No, because you talked too much, and then we got sidetracked, trying to air all our secrets in one go again. We need to stop doing that.”
“Or maybe not. I’m fine, Peter, I really am. And I thought of something. I mean, it’s probably stupid because I have absolutely no experience in having a successful relationship with anyone. Even my boss thinks I’m a nutcase.”
“I bet she doesn’t.”
“She does. But…what I was going to say was. I know Cal and Ed come first. But I think, instead of. You know… I used to do everything for me. I went and got spray tans so I would look healthy and attractive when underneath, I was all grey. I had Botox, so I would look pretty and youthful.”
“You look very pretty.”
“It was all bullshit. I know that. But I thought I did it for me, when I was just doing it for other people to enjoy. I sat there hating myself whilst others said I looked good. I mean? I have no idea why now. So from today, I am going to do things for me, but also for you. To make your life better. Because when I feel better about things? You will too.”
“You’ve been reading Dr Wilkes’s paperwork again, haven’t you?”
“I have, and she makes sense. I have homework. I need to think about things like that.”
“However long it will take, it’s fine, Oliver,” he said sternly. “You stay here, and we will look after everything else. You just need to work through everything. Get stable so you don’t even have to think about anything else. Just life as it is right now.”
“I’ve got an appointment with my doctor. Testing. Check-up. All of it.”
“Good. Cal can drive you.”
“I…I think that would be…good?”
Actually, really good. I could feel my body relax. No. Great.
“I need to get through this so I can go back to work. I really need to.” I did. I wanted to. Normality…like this. No more crap.
“You do.”
“I am going to change things. Dial things up the right way.”
“No stress. You can’t do everything all at once. A little at a time, babygirl.”
I sniffled out a resigned giggle. Him and his words.
“I’ll pay my way. I’m not going to scrounge off you.”
“I make enough to look after all of us.”
“Breadwinner.”
“No, Mary was the breadwinner. I just paid the bills.”
Here we were again. I honestly didn’t mind. This was the way things were.
“Peter. My master’s thesis was on personal investment for secure growth.
It was basically my personal plan to make my income work for me so I could retire at forty.
I’m well on track. I can pay for myself.
I’ve never ever touched any of my bonuses, and I’ve had a lot of bonuses.
They are all very securely invested and will provide for a very peaceful retirement. ”
“I will have to work until I’m sixty-five,” he declared. “Pensions are fickle.”
“They are, but by then you and I will be taking two cruises a year, and we will read a lot of books.”
“Idiot,” he whispered. But he smiled.
“The boys will be retiring at forty too, then? Mary left everything to them. She invested too. Made sure they would have enough to buy somewhere to live and a backup plan. She hated the idea of them becoming some kind of nepo babies. Banned any kind of drama school and kept them in public schools.”
“Really? They would have been great at drama.”
“No. I think this is the end of our family’s involvement in the entertainment industry. Final chapter. Done.”
I had to laugh. But yes. I agreed. And now he had that look on his face again. He loved me. How I had ever doubted it was beyond me because he might as well have spelled it out on a neon banner.
“I need to go back to work too.” He grimaced.
“You’ll be fine.”
“No. And the whole thing, knowing what is out there, doesn’t make it any easier. Everyone will have watched me being silly on TV.”
“It’s a small web-based show,” I said in an overly posh voice. “Nobody will have watched it.”
He grinned, yes. Because lies. All lies.
The teacup was placed in front of me as he wrapped his arm around my neck. Kissed me gently on the cheek.
“And before the boys turn up? I just want to say that I loved sleeping with you. Like we did.”
“Naked.” I smiled.
“Yeah. It was really…comforting. Sex will come, when we’re ready for it. There is no rush. It’s…”
“Embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not. We know what we’re doing. Just let it happen when it happens. And if that takes time? Sleeping naked was perfect. I loved it.”
His scent was just everything. Comfort and confidence, once again bubbling in my veins.
“I used to be so cocky about stuff like this. Now I feel all weird. It’s just sex.”
“It’s new and exciting and will eventually be wonderful. We’re still getting to know each other.”
Then there was a bang upstairs. Footsteps.
“Did anyone come back last night? I never heard Cal.”
“I did,” Peter said, like this was normal. “I stayed up until he got in. He made quite a racket, on top of this already haunted house.”
Steps upstairs making everything creak.
And someone booming down the stairs, hair everywhere and flimsy shorts. Like he’d rolled out of bed in a panic.
“Dad, that’s my hoodie. Again, use the washing machine! I leave clean clothes here for a reason, not for you to run out of tops and just steal whatever is in my closet!”
“But your stuff is nice!” Peter. He made me laugh. Also, he looked hot in that hoodie.
“And then you start as well, Ollie.”
“No, I don’t. I’m wearing all my own stuff. Promise.”
“Those socks look suspicious.”
“They’re just socks!” I squealed. Well. Maybe. I’d just picked them up off the floor earlier. Ugh. He rolled his eyes at me and crossed his arms.
“There’s like a big black Merc idling outside. Like proper posh.”
“Not anyone we know,” Peter said calmly. “It’s probably someone for Mrs Patel.”
“Really,” he mocked, like that was a complete grasp at a straw. An invisible one.
Hence, he walked over to the front door and flung it open, standing there in his gym shorts like it was nothing.
“Hello.”
I knew that voice. A little too well, and the panic inside me was back with a vengeance.
Gina.
“Absolutely not happening,” I said sternly, getting up in shock, almost tipping the chair over. Then I stood there holding my hands out in front of me.
“Nice greeting, Oliver. Thanks for that. I rescued your butt from a major shitstorm back there, and that’s all the thanks I get?”
She winked.
I still panicked. Everywhere.
“Hello, Gina,” Peter said, walking up and air-kissing her like this was some kind of weird trap. An over-produced movie with bad actors and an even more insane plot. Because real? This was not. We might as well have Mary’s ghost join the party and throw a few pans across the room.
Not that I believed any of it, but one of the saucepans was, once again, on the floor in the corner.
I just stared at them. Then stared at Gina as she walked up and air-kissed me as well. Mwah. Mwah. Smelling of heady perfume and still wearing sunglasses. Which she then took off and folded. Slowly, as she turned to Cal.
“Calvin,” she said, all fresh-faced. No make-up. If I didn’t know better, I’d barely have recognised her.
“The one and only.” He grinned.
“Follow you on Insta. You’re all grown up.”
“Do you?” he said, and there was that blush. Dear child. I sounded like someone’s granny. “What’s your handle?” he said, digging for his phone in his pocket only to realise it wasn’t there. Spinning nervously around, looking lost.
I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t.
“No,” I said instead. “Whatever you’re asking, it’s a no.”
“Calm down, Jacobs.” She tutted. “Is there tea, Peter? I have things to say.”
“There’s always tea for you.”
Kindness. Even when she was here to stab us in the back. Threaten us with all kinds of things and offer us money… And now Gina DeSanto was taking a seat at the kitchen table, and Cal was sliding onto the chair next to her, his eyes all spaced out in awe.
“Tea?” Peter asked the room, like we were all in on this. Normal? Absolutely not.
“Yes please, Dad,” Cal said sweetly, as Gina smiled.
“You’re very cute. Last time I saw you, you were just a spotty teen. You’ve scrubbed up well.”
Cal made some kind of sound at the back of his throat. It made me laugh. Poor kid. She was probably my age. Perhaps even older. What did I know?
“I left the production,” she said matter-of-factly. “Management pulled me after the shitstorm rolled in. The parent company came in a bit heavy-handed and slashed my fee in half before shutting us down. I was already walking anyway, but the cheek of them was…unbelievable.”
“Really?” I said, taking a seat and looking for my own glasses. Perhaps I needed a reality check because this was not a company meeting and I was not…signing shit. Whatever it was, she was taking it out of her large handbag and throwing it onto the table.