Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
The thin crust of frozen sleet and grit crunched under our feet as we walked; I stared at the white blooms of frost on the path ahead instead of looking at Penn. We hadn’t spoken since I’d pulled on my coat and boots and hustled him away from the doorstep, my mam looking bewildered until she remembered Penn from the shop. The last thing I wanted was to have a conversation in our house with its thin walls and curious parents.
We came to the park, which was deserted, and trudged through the gate and down the winding lane under the trees. There were street lights interspersed between them, casting a dim light under the canopy.
‘Talk to me,’ said Penn finally.
‘Are you sure you want to have this conversation?’ I snapped. ‘Because it could go very badly for you.’
‘Annie, you’ve got it all wrong. Yes, I’ve sold the Pink Floyd, but that’s all. I swear.’
‘So you’re telling me it’s just a coincidence that the shop was burgled the very night you sold it to some guy down the pub?’
‘I know it’s hard to fathom, but yes!’ he said, his voice suddenly heated. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I arrived at the shop. And I almost couldn’t believe my luck.’
‘I bet you couldn’t.’
He groaned, exasperated. ‘That’s not what I mean. Annie, please, will you just hear me out?’ He tried to take my arm, but I shook it off and walked on, my hands shoved into my pockets. He jogged to catch up with me.
‘I did sell the album to some guy down the pub, yes. He came in and made me an offer a while ago, which was the closest I’d ever got to its real value. He left me his number, so I called him up the day after we got back from Ashcliffe, like you overheard. We haggled… and when we agreed a fair price, he paid me some money upfront, and I made the arrangement to meet him the next day and hand it over. So I took it home with me. When I came to the shop the next morning, I couldn’t believe that I’d taken it home before it would have been nicked.’
‘I’m sorry, but it sounds unlikely. And even if it is true, and you then claimed it on your insurance, then that’s just as bad.’
‘I didn’t claim it on my insurance!’
I whipped round to face him. ‘What?’
‘I only said I would because I didn’t want to tell you I’d sold it. Not right then anyway. I haven’t even submitted my claim yet, and when I do, I won’t be putting the album on the form. Because it wasn’t there .’ He looked at me with nervous expectation, willing me to believe him.
I wrapped my arms around myself, thoughts cascading like Tetris blocks trying to fall into place but stacking up into a haphazard pile.
I looked into his eyes, trying to work him out. The closeness we’d shared in Northumberland had been damaged by these last few days, and during that time, I’d spent more and more time remembering how much we’d been at odds at first. I’d started to paint over the newer picture of him with the old colours. But now he was standing in front of me, his dark eyes looking tortured, I saw shades of him starting to shine through.
‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’ I said, sounding like a belligerent child, even to my own ears.
He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped it a few times before presenting it to me. A document lit up the screen.
‘Here. The claim form I’ve started filling in.’
I scrolled through it. He’d listed estimates for the boxes of CDs and tapes, the individual values of some of the collectors’ albums. Even the novelty music items we’d shared were on there – just half the value of them, since we’d agreed to share them. But there was no Pink Floyd album on there. I looked up at him, and he didn’t even look triumphant. He looked distraught.
‘It wasn’t there, so I would never have claimed for it.’
I stood very still, my throat feeling dry and thick. My brain was catching up with my misunderstanding of the situation, and with that came the first twinges of regret.
‘You said the shop was struggling for money.’
‘It is. But I would never lie, or steal, or cheat.’
‘You also said you would never sell the album. That it was precious to you.’
He said nothing for a moment, his expression unreadable, then he glanced away. ‘I’m starting to reconsider what’s precious and what’s not.’
‘What does that mean?’ I asked, genuinely puzzled.
‘It means…’ He paused, searching for words. ‘It means that even though I’ve never valued money that much – or at least I thought there was more to life than wealth – I’ve got a deeper understanding now of what makes me happy. Living away from Ashcliffe, making my own choices, has made me a better person… I think.’ He faltered momentarily, eyes flickering from side to side. ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve learned enough these past few years to not place value on things . They don’t make me as happy as… people do.’
‘People?’
‘You.’
I stared at him, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his eyes holding mine but still uncertain. I didn’t know what to say.
After what felt like a long time, I said, ‘I’m so confused.’
‘About me?’
‘Yes.’ I sighed. ‘I just… don’t get what this has to do with the Pink Floyd album.’
‘I sold it for you.’
‘ What ?’ I blinked at him, my jaw slackening.
‘I saw how much you were struggling. You said you were trying everything you could to help your family. I wanted to help you .’
‘Excuse me? You sold the album… to give money to me ?’
He nodded.
My breath started to come in sharper bursts, and I turned away, my eyes stinging. Without a backwards glance, I stormed away, further into the passage of trees.
‘Annie, wait!’ he shouted and ran up behind me again.
‘This is ridiculous,’ I said as he caught up with me. ‘Utterly ridiculous. And offensive! I don’t want charity , Penn! God, what must you think of me? Poor little working-class Annie, trying to save her parents’ poky little house. I know, I’ll swoop in and sort out all her problems with a wodge of cash.’
‘I know you’re an independent person,’ he said, striding to keep up with me. ‘And I’m sure your parents are too. But I couldn’t stand to see you working yourself into the ground, wearing yourself out. You were grafting enough before we went to Ashcliffe, and now with the burglary and the money you’ve lost by closing...’ He sounded so pained that I slowed down to a stop again.
‘I can’t believe you did this,’ I said, a rogue tear now trickling down my cheek. I couldn’t admit my stupid mistake to not take insurance. Not right now, or he’d feel even more motivated to help me. ‘It’s just so bloody patronising. I get it, you’re rich; thousands of pounds is pocket money to you.’
‘It isn’t. I told you: my parents might be rich, but I’m not.’
‘So you’re saying you’d get yourself into more financial strife to help me out? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘None of this makes sense! I spent weeks thinking we couldn’t stand the sight of each other, and now I think I… I think I…’ He ran out of air and plunged his hand into his hair.
‘You think you what? Penn, what could make you imagine that this was a solution?’
His eyes blazed as he walked closer to me. He stood chest to chest with me, breathing heavily. ‘I know. I’ve fucked up. I should have realised that it would come across like this, and I’m sorry, I really am. But when it comes to you, I can’t think straight anymore. When it comes to us, I’m spinning out.’
Then his eyes darkened, and he cupped the back of my head and kissed me hard. I held my breath for a moment, surprised and confused and… exhilarated. My anger short-circuited into passion and a strange sense of relief at his touch. Although I’d spent the last few days pushing him away, I melted into him; even in that short time, I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed his lips against mine. I felt all of his feelings in that kiss, and I knew then that I was spinning out too.
Later, we sat on a park bench, close together against the cold. I shivered a little, and he wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said for the third time. ‘I’m an idiot, and I deserved all of that.’
‘You are, and you did. But it doesn’t matter now. I just feel awful that you sold something that meant so much to you.’
‘It’s just a thing. I’ve still got my memories of my godfather, and that’s what counts.’
‘I hope you’ll use it for something good.’ He shifted against me and opened his mouth to speak. ‘Not me, before you say anything. I’m touched that you did this, but I won’t accept it, Penn. I can’t.’
‘I wish I could persuade you.’
‘You won’t.’ I shook my head with finality.
‘I should have remembered how stubborn you can be from our early days in the shop,’ he murmured.
‘Takes one to know one,’ I said.
‘Fair enough. You know, although I’m frustrated that you won’t take the money, I love that about you. You’re a strong, proud person.’
My stomach fluttered at the word ‘love’. Even in that context, I felt a ripple of affection, wondering if we might ever say it to each other in a different way. But the idea of it struck a strange chord within me. That evening, my heart was full, but my head was scrambled; I filed my thoughts away for the time being. ‘Pride doesn’t always come from a good place.’ The moment I said it, I regretted it. I didn’t want to spoil this.
‘What do you mean?’
I hesitated. Did I really want to ruin this by opening up old wounds? ‘Nothing,’ I said, cuddling closer to him, nudging my head under his chin. His neck was warm and smelled of a woody scent that was starting to become familiar.
‘Annie… I want to know everything about you. Whatever that might be.’
I turned my head even closer to him, the bristles under his chin skimming my forehead. I didn’t speak for a while.
‘I got bullied at school. Because my parents didn’t have much money.’
His arm tightened around me almost imperceptibly and he stayed quiet, allowing me to carry on.
‘I didn’t go to a fancy school, not by any means, but it was a mixed bag when it came to the other kids’ backgrounds. There were people like me, who didn’t have much, and others whose parents had their own businesses or were lawyers and doctors, and some of them looked down on us. I always had a hand-me-down jacket, knock-off designer sweatshirts from the market. The richer kids would pull the label out the back of my top to prove it wasn’t really Juicy Couture, that it was a cheap fake. It was embarrassing and demoralising. I hated school because of it.’
I could feel him breathing steadily. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you. It sounds horrible.’
‘It was. And back then I was so desperate to impress, to make them see that I was a worthwhile person by having the same things as them.’
I stopped. This was more painful than I’d thought, reliving these memories. And if I continued, Penn might think less of me, but with his arms around me, I felt safe. My voice shook as I continued.
‘I started stealing things. Just little bits, like nice make-up or jewellery that looked a bit more expensive than the necklaces I already had that made my neck turn green. But one day, after they’d taken the piss out of me for having supermarket trainers, I aimed higher. I stole a pair of Nikes from a shop, and unsurprisingly got caught. They didn’t press charges, but my parents got hauled in, and I got a vicious dressing-down from them and the security guard. I’d never felt so ashamed.
‘Then, not long after that, I left school and decided I’d never lower myself to try and impress anyone ever again. I would be proud of being myself, and I wouldn’t allow anyone to make me feel “less than” for not being rich.’
Penn stiffened. ‘I’m so sorry, Annie. Now you’ve told me, I understand completely how I’ve offended you. I know I can’t take it back, but can you forgive me?’
‘Yes. I know you’ve done it out of kindness. But I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself for being the reason you sold your pride and joy.’
‘I told you. It was just a thing.’ He sighed gently. ‘At least you know I’m not playing away with another woman.’ His voice wavered with amusement.
I elbowed him in the side. ‘You can imagine how I might have thought that.’
‘Mmhm. But I hope you can see now that it’s never going to happen.’ I started to relax into his side again, but he raised my chin and kissed me softly. ‘There is no one else.’
He looked deep into my eyes as he said it, and it felt loaded with meaning. It didn’t just sound like there was no other woman in his life; it felt like he was saying there was no other woman in the world. I kissed him so intensely I lost my breath.
When I pulled away, something occurred to me.
‘Penn, how did Christa get the chance to see you after she came here? Why aren’t you in Northumberland?’
‘I didn’t fancy it after all. To tell you the truth, when we left Ashcliffe, my parents and I’d had a… disagreement.’
My stomach twisted, remembering the conversation I’d overheard. ‘But it’s Christmas Eve.’
He shrugged. ‘Like I said. I’ve worked out what’s more important to me.’
‘But… your family… Were you just planning to stay in you flat alone? I mean, what if I’d refused to see you?’
‘You didn’t though. And I still intend to stay in my flat, although I won’t be alone. Sam makes a mean turkey curry.’
I shook my head. ‘That doesn’t sound… great.’
‘It’s fine. Really. And I’m just happy I came to see you. And that you let me kiss you, even though you wouldn’t take the money. Without sounding like a Hallmark movie, that’s the best Christmas present I could have asked for.’
I thought for a moment.
‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘You’re not going to spend Christmas in your flat. I bet you haven’t even got a Christmas tree.’
‘Does a string of tinsel across the top of the telly count?’
‘No, it doesn’t. I know this will sound ironic since I’ve just refused to let you take care of me. But I’m taking no arguments. You’re coming home with me.’