Chapter Five
Ren
I was enjoying a quiet pint at the social club, disassociating as much as mentally possible, when Jack’s smug face appeared in front of me.
‘God, you look shit,’ he grinned, setting his pint down on my table.
Internally, I groaned. It wasn’t that I hated Jack.
He was a good guy, and I’ve known him decades now.
He’d worked for my dad since he was barely out of school, eventually stepping up to run the business after Liam left to open Lily’s with me.
These days, he practically was the business – and he was proving trustworthy and reliable.
His face was tanned and weather-lined, and he had the kind of crooked grin that spelled trouble.
His hair was sun-streaked and always messy, as if he’d just taken off a hard hat.
Or more likely rolled out of someone’s bed.
Not many people realised Jack was a few years older than Liam – so he was in his mid-thirties now, though he never acted like it.
He was more accident-prone than an apprentice, and spent a lot of time in A&E.
But, like Liam, he worked ridiculous hours, drove a knackered Land Rover he refused to part with, and had three older sisters who half the town fancied at one point or another.
But I could do without Jack today – with all of his energy and optimism.
Until now, it had just been me and Peter, the local curmudgeonly grouch, and I’d been pleased with that for once.
Peter sat at the table opposite, a scowl on his lined face.
He looked how I felt. And, other than Peter’s burning stare, it was uncharacteristically quiet for a Saturday night.
Usually, there would be terrible karaoke or a crooning performer in a shiny waistcoat.
Maybe a darts competition. But I’d been in luck. It was quiet and I could sulk in peace.
‘Who is this?’ Jack asked as he gestured to the dog lying beside me. Jack’s face morphed into glee. ‘Pat got to you, didn’t she? She tried to drop this one off at my house a few weeks ago.’
‘Great,’ I said sarcastically. ‘I’m second choice for a dog I didn’t want.’
Peanut’s head lifted, as Jack leaned down to rub her belly.
She rolled over, exposing the pale fur of her belly.
I’d arrived back at my apartment to find Peanut sitting on my sofa, lightly panting.
She had an expectant, eager expression on her face, as if she’d been waiting for me to get home.
Pat had used the spare key I kept under my doormat for emergencies, to let herself in, drop off Peanut, her bed, and a month’s worth of food.
I’d been furious, determined to call her and give her a piece of my mind, until Peanut cantered over to me, giving my hand a welcoming lick, and that was it.
I was a goner.
Now Peanut was stretched out on the red, patterned carpet of the club, content after our muddy walk and a handful of pork scratchings.
I hated the way it made me feel… useful. Worthy.
‘God, she’s cute,’ Jack smiled. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Peanut.’
Jack paused, his sharp blue eyes meeting mine, then burst into laughter. I sighed as Jack lowered himself into the seat next to me, still laughing at my expense.
‘You can’t be shouting Peanut across the park, mate.’ Jack wiped his eyes. ‘Why don’t you rename her? What about Pippa? Pickle. Poppy.’
Peggy.
The name hit me, laced with a memory from ten-year-old me.
Lydia leaving her worn, well-loved toy on the bus.
Her face distraught. So I ran. She shouted for me to stop but I kept going, sprinting after the bus to the next stop.
I launched myself on board, ignoring the driver’s protests, and retrieved the floppy plush dog.
Then, I reunited it with its smiling owner.
I’d felt like Tom Cruise that day. But, you know, without the religious cult stuff.
‘Peggy.’
Peanut – or now, Peggy – lifted her head.
‘There you go. Peggy is much better than Peanut,’ Jack said, scratching behind her ears. She sighed as if she’d been waiting her whole life for this exact moment.
‘Traitor,’ I muttered.
Jack chuckled. His dirty-blond hair was cropped short, his usual crooked grin looked as if he had pulled a prank and was waiting for you to find out. But recently, he had an air of confidence as if he’d found his purpose. Not that he needed it.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, ‘Haven’t seen you in the club for a while.’
‘Meeting your brother for a catch-up about work,’ Jack said, taking a gulp of his pint.
As if he’d been summoned, the social club door swung open and Liam strode in, eyes searching, until he found Jack at my table.
He nodded and ordered his drink with Sandra.
I bit my lip. Jack and Liam were going to talk shop about HBC and, after he’d shut down my idea for Everly Heath Farm, I wasn’t in the mood to hear my brother’s demonstrative orders about what Jack should or shouldn’t do.
Liam couldn’t help but stick his oar in, even though he didn’t work with Jack any more.
‘Ey up. Pat got you in the end then.’ Liam plonked his pint of Coke Zero on our table, pulling up a chair next to Jack. Peggy sat up, nuzzling her head into Liam’s legs, and he gave her a scratch behind her ears. My eyes narrowed.
Double traitor.
‘You can keep the lecture about how a dog is a huge responsibility to yourself, big brother,’ I muttered, sounding as petulant as I felt.
Liam’s eyebrows rose and Jack stifled a laugh.
‘He’s been seething away since I got here. What’s got you so miserable, Lawrence?’ Jack cocked an eyebrow. ‘Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.’
‘Yeah, your mum’s.’
Jack laughed, and I was envious of how open and free he was. I used to be like that. I could pinpoint exactly when that stopped. When I boarded a flight to Mexico and made the cataclysmic mistake of leaving her behind.
‘Come on then,’ Liam said gruffly. ‘What’s up?’
‘We’re sharing now, are we?’
Liam shrugged. ‘What can I say? Kat and Abi have made me more open.’
I huffed. ‘Sure. How is my niece?’
I was asking because I’d not seen Abi in weeks. But also so I could steer Liam away from asking questions I didn’t want to answer.
‘Currently at a paint-and-sip party with Kat and Yas.’
My eyebrows shot up. ‘Mum and Stepmum. Wow. Very modern.’
From what I could sense, Kat and Yasmin hadn’t started out as friends.
Yasmin, my brother’s ex-childhood-sweetheart had been protective of Abigail, and was worried about bringing another woman into her life, for her to leave it.
But once Yas realised Kat wasn’t going anywhere, they seemed to be getting on like a house on fire.
‘Oh, they’re the best of friends now,’ Liam muttered into his pint. ‘Terrifying is what it is. They gang up on me, the three of them.’
I chuckled, despite myself. I could picture the three of them wrapped around my brother’s little finger. Particularly Abigail, who was playing her part of surly teenager so well I was sure the academy would be in touch any day now. Suffice to say, I was proud.
‘She still rinsing you for that face stuff? Pissed Giraffe?’
‘Drunk Elephant. She’s rinsed my bank account and I’m ninety-nine per cent sure she doesn’t need the stuff.’
‘Well, isn’t that lovely? Everyone playing happy families.’
Jack and Liam exchanged looks as I gulped my pint.
‘Right. This is an intervention,’ Liam announced. ‘Starting now, we’re having a very frank conversation about your… mental health.’
‘My mental health,’ I repeated.
‘Yes. We’ve done it before. So we’re doing it again,’ Liam said, in a strangely formal way, like he’d prepared a speech.
Liam wasn’t wrong. We did talk about my mental health, now and then.
He took me to the GP in the worst bouts of my depression when I was younger.
He kept me fed and watered through it, even when I didn’t have the energy to bring a fork to my mouth.
I couldn’t deny that one of my brother’s best qualities was how he looked after the people he loved, even if he rarely understood me.
‘No depression. I’m still on my meds, and they work better than the ones I was on a few years ago.’
Peggy sat up, nudging my thigh with her nose. I sighed and scratched her, the warmth of her solid presence grounding me, even just a little.
Liam nodded. ‘Good.’
We took a sip of our drinks.
Jack glanced between us. ‘That’s it? That’s the big intervention, big strong men talk about their feelings?’
Liam shrugged. ‘He said he’s fine. And I believe him.’
‘We made an agreement years ago that as long as he knew the necessary details, then he wouldn’t pry in my head.’
Jack looked at us like we’d grown four heads, respectively.
‘You can’t be serious. That’s all you’re going to say?’ Jack pointed at me. ‘He’s not depressed. He’s lovesick, Liam. It’s Lydia.’
I hissed, shooting looks over at the bar. ‘Will you keep your voice down?’
‘What? ’Cos her mum is six feet away from us?
Newsflash, mate. She already knows. Everyone does.
Everyone is talking about how fucking weird the vibe is between you.
Pat almost scheduled a super-secret emergency meeting when you came back so that everyone was on the same page, but it got cancelled ’cos of the rain. ’
My gaze swung to Liam. ‘Did you know about this?’
Liam looked anywhere but at me.
‘You did. Some brother you are.’
‘Look – I know what it’s like being under the scrutiny of this bloody town. Last year, they were salivating whenever Kat and I were in the same room. Plotting to get us together.’
‘But you are together,’ I shouted, my fist landing on the table. Liam’s and Jack’s eyes widened in shock. I dropped my voice. ‘There is no hope for me and Lydia. Case closed. She doesn’t even want me as a friend, let alone… anything else.’
Liam’s eyebrows shot up. ‘And you want… anything else?’