Chapter Thirteen
MOLLIE
T he week flies by with relative ease. I keep busy with work, spending as much time with the foal as possible. Mick named him Rummy, and between the three of us, we’ve made sure he’s settling in well without Blackjack. It still hurts, not having her here. Although I still feel the guilt that drowned me, one thing that has kept me busy, is wondering when Travis will unexpectedly show up.
He hasn’t come by the house. Hasn’t called. Hasn’t text. It’s ridiculous, considering how little we actually know about each other, but I thought seeing his aunt might have made him realise how much they love having him around. And after the other night when we lost Blackjack, I thought we were clear that we liked each other.
Given how he left the other day, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised he hasn’t been around. It’s a constant push and pull between us. We want each other, that’s clear, but he’s a busy man. He might leave me buzzing from my head to my toes, but I need to catch my breath. Coming here wasn’t about finding anyone other than myself. I know this is where I want to be, but it wasn’t meant to be complicated. And since catching feelings for Travis, that’s exactly how things have been. I guess in hindsight I should be grateful that he hasn’t been around to make it worse.
But even now, as I walk around the clothing shop I’m in, desperately trying to find something to wear for later, he’s all I can think about. I don’t like it. Don’t like the fact that I feel needy. This isn’t me. Yet, unable to bury the feelings, I cave and message him, feeling excited and hating myself for being weak all at the same time .
Me: Are we still on for tomorrow?
Biker boy: Unless you still want me to leave you alone?
I’m surprised when he replies right away. I’m also surprised by his message. It cuts a little deep. I know he’s busy, but has he seriously kept some distance thinking that’s what I actually want? He said he was busy, that people were counting on him. Club business all day and all night? It must be draining. Maybe he’s just acting like a knob because he’s actually tired?
When I subtly asked Janette what he does at the club over dinner—my intrigue getting the better of me, all she said was the less we know the better. But if they knew me better, then they’d know that’s the worst thing she could have said. Because now, I want to know it all. It’s in my nature to find every scrap of information to have the full picture.
I’ve worked out enough to know it can’t all be strictly legal. The late nights. The partying. It’s a lifestyle I’ve heard about, but never really seen. Partying, yes. But meeting people in the dead of night? Criminals who don’t want to get caught do that.
What it is they actually do, though, I’m none the wiser. I have a feeling in my gut I’ll find out soon. I’m sure of it. Whether he tells me or I have to find out for myself, I will find out.
Grabbing the first dress I see and don’t actually hate, I make my way to the shoe department, picking some heels to match. Honestly, a spring, black tie wedding is lovely, but in a field when it will be freezing at night… the thought makes me shiver.
My phone pings when I’m at the till about to pay.
Biker boy: Your silence makes me think this is what you want? If I’m finished early enough later, I’ll swing by the house
I can’t contain the pang of misery that skates through me as I tap my card to the machine whilst the lady behind the desk bags up my items. Swing by? Not stay? Just a fleeting visit. Haven’t heard from him in days, then suddenly twice in one day like it’s no big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not, in fact. But it still irritates me.
Me: Don’t worry. It’s a late one for me too. I’ll see you tomorro w
Biker boy: You never said you were busy tonight?
He’s a fine one to talk.
Me: You never asked
He must be thinking. The dots wiggle. Stop. Wiggle some more. Stop again. Then wiggle, and my phone pings.
Biker boy: What are you doing?
Me: I have to see some old friends
I see the dots wiggle, but then they stop. And they don’t start again. He won’t rise to it. I told him my friends aren’t interested in me, so he’ll probably be wondering what the hell I’m doing seeing them. Realising I don’t have a choice, I tuck my phone back in my bag knowing that after tonight, maybe things will be less complicated.
I just know I’ll want to bail. Even though I’ve been mentally preparing myself for seeing my dad and Henry, and everyone else in the fucked-up circle. I know my dad’s tactic will be to make me feel like I can’t live without him. Whatever he tries, I won’t give him the satisfaction of leaving early. Normally, I’d drink my way through it, but given I’m driving myself there because I don’t have a plus one, I’ll find my corner and ride out the bullshit.
I have to. I have to show him I can manage perfectly fine without him.
Happy birthday to me.
Once I have my bags, I grab myself a coffee then head to the farm. Janette is in the kitchen when I get back.
“Oh, show me what you got,” she practically sings.
I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm, but smile, dropping the bags to the table and pulling out the items.
“Mollie, that’s… that’s absolutely gorgeous.” She runs her hands over the satin material, seemingly lost in a trance. “No way you’re leaving the party alone.” She winks at me.
If only she knew the only person I would consider coming home with is her nephew. But, given there’s no chance of that tonight, I smile at her. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” I say on a laugh.
Janette looks up at me through her lashes, her hands pausing reaching into the bag to see my shoes .
I stop laughing.
“Oh? Somone else caught your eye?” There’s hope in her voice.
My palms instantly turn clammy. Yeah, she knows I like Travis. I still won’t admit it though. I’ve barely admitted it to myself. “No,” I stammer. “I’m just taking this year to find out who I really am, that’s all. And if I should decide to date a man, I’ll make sure it’s on my terms.”
“Wise woman,” she says, nodding her head approvingly with a huge grin slapped on her face. I’m practically spoon feeding her tidbits. I need to get out of here before I tell her every sordid detail.
A cold sweat prickles my neck when I hear Mick’s quadbike come to a stop outside. “I need to get ready.” I quickly grab my things, scooping them up.
“Mollie.” Janette’s hand gently rests on mine, sensing my urgency to escape.
I notice her fingers look sore today, her thumb and index finger fixed in position. I look up.
“You have our blessing if you choose Travis.”
She can’t say anything more for the front door swings open, and Mick strides in. “Ladies,” he smiles, hanging his wax jacket on the hook and adjusting his cap. He walks to Janette, kissing her cheek before he looks at the bags in my hands. “Been shopping?”
I look away from Janette, giving Mick a nod. “Yeah. I have a wedding to go to. I best get ready.”
“Need a lift?” he asks, turning to the sink. He turns on the tap, grabbing the soap. “I’m sure Travis can drop you there.”
“He’s busy,” I quickly reply, instantly recoiling. God damn it. I don’t even know what he’s doing.
Janette’s smiling at me again, and Mick’s hand washing slows to almost a complete stop. “That so? Well I can take you. You’ve busted a gut this past week. A night off might do you some good.”
“I can drive. It’s fine. Honestly.” My hands grip my bags tighter. My feet begin to edge away slowly.
“You sure? What about your foot?”
“Yeah, I’m good. My foot’s fine,” I say, ignoring the sudden flare of pain, a reminder that it’s still there.
“Okay, well if you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” I make my retreat to my room, slumping to my bed and throwing myself backward. Jesus. Let’s just get this day done.
Arriving at the wedding, I pull down the narrow lane heading towards the house. I’m stopped by two men, reluctantly rolling down my window as one of them steps toward the car. “Well, well, well, your ears must have been burning.”
“Matthew.” I keep my eyes forward.
He runs his eyes down my body through the open window. “How are you?” He doesn’t care. Not really.
“Alive.” I slowly turn my head.
His face hollows, then there’s a shift in his expression like he just turned everything off. “We were just wondering whether you’d actually show.”
My lips pull into a straight line. “How much money did you lose this time?”
He huffs on a maniacal laugh, then lowers his elbows to rest on the car, his face coming closer to mine. “A lot more than you’re worth.” His dark eyes look around the small space of my car, making a point of it only being me. “No plus one?” He clicks his teeth.
I swallow. “You assume I need one.”
“Well, if you need me later, sweetheart, come and find me. Maybe we can pick up where we left off.”
I cringe. “Where we left off? Matthew, I found you overdosing in Henry’s basement.”
He smiles, but it’s twisted. I see him mentally recalling ‘where we left off’. A party where he had too much cocaine and everything went wrong. He should be thanking me for saving his life and not ratting him out to my father. “Henry’s here with Sarah,” he says with venom.
I smile, flicking my invite to him. He doesn’t check it; his eyes are too busy trying to burn holes through me. “Good for them,” I say honestly, if not a little surprised.
Matthew smirks, waiting for me to bite.
“Let me remind you, that one word from me, and you’ll lose everything.”
He practically snarls knowing I’m right.
I throw the invite on the passenger seat, then shift the car into first, pulling away. Arsehole . I look in the rearview. What happened between us isn’t forgotten, but seeing him curse at me as I drive away makes my anger rise. Calm down. He’ll get what he deserves one day. You knew this is how it would be. Breathe.
Heeding my own advice, I park up and dip out of the car with as much elegance as I can muster. I grab my clutch and adjust my dress, the satin hugging my curves in all the right places. I wish Travis could see it. Urgh, did I really just think that?
Emerald green, the strapless design has a thigh high slit and a sultry, cowl back. It’s a statement. An, I don’t fucking need you , statement to all the people here. My makeup is subtle, and my hair is tied in a low bun at the base of my neck, a few strands trailing down the sides of my face.
I think about sending him a picture, but frown. Not only would that raise questions as to where I am, I’m also royally pissed off with him. Chewing my lip, I no doubt ruin my lipstick wondering whether I should message him. No. Never back down. He’s busy, anyway. I know this.
Bending to the mirror, I apply another layer of red, then straighten, popping a ginger sweet in my mouth and looking for the bar. That’s where my father will be, so let’s get this over with.
“Dad.” I walk up behind him, waiting for him to turn.
One hand in his pocket, one hand holding his Scotch, he turns, slowly, power oozing from him. “Darling.”
I step to him, and he kisses both my cheeks in turn. “Where’s Henry?” he asks, not asking me how I am. We haven’t seen each other since I left a month ago, but his lack of questions doesn’t surprise me.
“With Sarah,” I say confidently, lifting my chin.
Dad’s eyebrows knit. “Who’s she?”
“His plus one.”
He’s not happy that the one man he knows I care for, is here with someone else. Honestly, I’m happy for Henry. He should be happy. All I did was mess with his feelings. “I have something for you.”
Here we go .
He places his Scotch on the makeshift bar set up outside. It’s glowing for the hundreds of fairy lights lighting it up. Balloons line the arch over the top of it, with fresh flowers draping down the sides. “Turn around.”
I listen, turning on my heels, which is something considering we’re in a field. I feel Dad step closer, seeing his hands move into my peripherals. He drapes a necklace over my head, the weight of it instantly uncomfortable around my neck as he fastens the clasp.
This is his statement. His way of showing me what I’m missing out on, according to him. “There.”
I turn around, our eyes locking.
“Happy birthday, darling.”
“Thank you.”
Silence crashes between us. He’s waiting for me to throw my arms around him. To tell him I’m coming home after buying me an overpriced gift. “Where’s Mum?”
His lips pinch. He then turns picking up his tumbler from the bar. “Your mother is working her charm with the Chief Secretary of State before he leaves.”
I snort a fake laugh. “Of course she is. I bet she’s bored shitless.”
“Mouth,” he says. But I see him quip a small, rare smile. He shakes it as soon as he sees me notice, dropping his fa?ade back in place quickly. “Go see her, then make sure you work your way around.”
“Seriously? That’s what you expect me to do?”
“That’s what’s expected of you as my daughter, yes,” he snaps. “You’ve embarrassed me enough, darling. Do what I say without any trouble, for once in your life.”
For once in my life. “You know, for once in my life,” I snatch his drink and down it with a hiss, knowing it’s all I can have tonight, “I’d like you to care about me and what I want.” I thrust the glass into his chest as a man I don’t recognise comes up alongside him.
My father’s gaze remains on me before he’s patted on his back and looks away. As the managing partner for Harrington Law, he’ll be a man in high demand tonight, which only bodes well for me. I take the opportunity of him being distracted to find my mum.
When she spots me, unlike my dad, she stops talking and strides towards me, arms open, her face beaming. Drunk. “My baby, where have you been?” She hugs me, then holds my hands as she spins me around, admiring my dress. “You look fabulous, darling.”
“Thank you.”
She gasps. “Oh, he gave you your gift without me, the retched man.”
You can say that again. My fingers naturally lift to the crystals suffocating me. “Yeah, he tried to buy me back. ”
Mum bats her hands at me. “Oh, stop. He loves you. He only wants,” she hiccups, “what’s best for you, dear.”
What’s best for me. Sure. “Have you eaten?” Lord knows she needs something. How she can be drunk already blows my mind. I wasn’t invited to the ceremony itself, but I don’t believe they served drinks there.
“I have had some of the canapes the lovely men have been serving.”
I look around, spotting the silver service. It’s all very glamourous. All very… not me. The sun is warm on my skin, the air still cool enough to warrant a jacket. I don’t have one. Couldn’t find anything to go with the dress, but, just for a moment, I allow my eyes to close and take it in. I don’t want to be here, but I will be okay. What’s the worst that’s going to happen?
The majority of the guests that are here are mingling in the gardens. A Mercedes, followed by a Range Rover, come through the main entrance, pulling my attention as they roll to a stop on the gravel. The drivers simultaneously get out and open the doors for the passengers, all of whom are dressed to the nines. They shake hands with the guests standing closest to the cars, before joining everyone else.
“Oh, they’re here,” Mum says, looping her arm under mine. “Now, you will play nice when we say hello, won’t you, darling? We represent your father. We have to show decorum at all times.”
“Me?” I say offended. “You’re the one staggering at barely three in the afternoon.”
“Nonsense. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That why you’re holding on to me for dear life?”
“You hush and keep those tootsies walking. I don’t want to go over.”
I laugh with a despondent roll of my eyes, helping her walk forward, guiding her straight to the bride and groom.
“Audrey, Mollie, how nice to see you both.” The bride kisses both me and Mum before turning to her new, old, husband. Honestly, all of this to renew your vows.
“Monica, you look divine.” Mum admires her elegant, white, off the shoulder gown. She does look stunning.
“Thank you, Audrey, you look lovely too. And Mollie,” Monica’s dazzling eyes skate over me, “you look like you could kill. Don’t let Timothy see you.” Her playfulness almost makes me throw up in my mouth.
“Timothy, look, it’s Mollie and Audrey. Don’t they look beautiful. ”
My mum tucks her hair behind her ear, enjoying the compliments, but I double take when I see Timothy’s eyes suggestively taking me in as he loops his arms around his wife .
The way I hate it and the entitlement he thinks he has to do that. I shift on my feet, just about ready to say something.
Mum must feel me tensing. She’s quick to divert the attention away from how beautiful we look. “The ceremony was absolutely stunning, Monica. Congratulations for managing to book Silvia so last minute. I know how busy she is.”
“Oh, yes. I did get lucky, didn’t I.”
I don’t call paying ten thousand pounds for a party planner, lucky.
A glass chinks, and we all turn in unison. The announcer asks us to find our tables before the main meals are served.
“Guess we should find our table,” Monica says, again jokingly. Their table clearly is the biggest and the fanciest, the one expertly decorated to within an inch of its life.
Mum and I smile as they walk away. “Right, shall we sit?”
I agree, again guiding Mum to her table, coming to an immediate holt when I don’t see my name card next to hers. “Uh, has there been some sort of mistake?”
“No.” My father appears from nowhere, stepping closer. “You’re there.”
He points to the adjacent table, and my eyes slowly turn to follow. “Great.”
Dad helps Mum to her seat as I walk away, finding my name card next to Sarah’s, who’s sat next to Henry. He doesn’t say anything as I place my clutch on the table, then drop to my chair, holding my dress in place.
I honestly can’t tell if he’s speechless because of what I’m wearing, or the fact that I actually showed up. Or maybe he lost a bet, too?
“Drink?” the server asks, gliding around our table.
I don’t reply, simply grabbing a champagne flute off the silver tray he’s holding and throwing it back. Okay, so this is the last thing I can drink tonight. Feeling the immediate buzz in my veins, I smile. It’s warming. A comfort, even. Too bad I can’t have anymore.
Dinner is dinner. Lots of small talk and pointless conversation. I’ve got third degree embarrassment listening to all the single girl problems these women seem to have. Nothing has changed, but it’s so bleedingly obvious that the women sat at my table are in fact, hoes. And not just any old hoes, no. Rich ones. The worst kind. Proving my point, Felicity rambles on over dessert about how she gave some guy called Joey a blow job, all so that she could get into a party he was having then never heard from him again.
“Maybe she gives shit blowjobs?” the old man next to me whispers under his breath, making me choke on my drink.
A few eyes turn my way as I place my glass down and grab my napkin, dabbing it to my mouth. I smile my apology. “Sorry.” Then I look at him with humour in my eyes. “Poor Joey.”
He laughs, and Felicity gives me the evil’s before quickly returning to telling everyone about her next problem.
Luckily, the gentleman who has saved me this afternoon is old enough to be my grandad. I’m grateful he and his wife are seated next to me. He happily talks to me the entire time we’re sat down, his wife to his left listening intently to everything he says. She smiles with pleasure at him as he recalls old stories of times gone by. It’s endearing. And actually, I find myself so engrossed in what he’s got to say, I completely forget Henry and Sarah.
I mean, hearing her God-awful laugh whenever Henry tells one of his jokes is pretty hard to ignore, but he’s happy. So I am, too.
It’s only when Sarah excuses herself, do I feel Henry come and sit in her seat beside me. What is he doing? “You look…” I turn to face him as he speaks. “Well I think you know.”
“You look good too, Hen.” I give him a small smile, but I’m unsure what else I should say.
He smiles, scratching his lip with his thumb as he looks back down at the table. “Have you seen your father yet?”
I lift both hands to my neck. “Can’t you tell?”
He laughs. “Happy birthday to you.”
“Yeah. His attempt to have me running back to him.”
“Did it work?” His words linger, and when I look at him, his eyes reflect nothing but hope.
I tuck the strand of my hair behind my ear, my body sagging. “Hen. You told me to text you if I was coming back. I haven’t done that.”
He smiles to himself. “That’s right. ”
The server on the table next to us accidently drops a bottle of champagne, causing it to smash and the guests to gasp.
Both our heads swing to see before I look back at Henry. “Anyway, you have Sarah now.”
He looks to the direction she left in. “Yeah, she’s great.” His lips part as if he hasn’t finished, but he stops himself.
I deflate, knowing what he wants to say, as another one of the servers turns on the many, giant heat lamps dotted around where everyone is seated. I’m grateful. The cold is just starting to nip at my skin.
“Tell me about the farm.”
Hearing my phone vibrate on the table, I take it out of my bag as I answer Henry. “It’s great, thank you. I love the people I work for.” And their nephew. “They’ve become like my family.” I look down reading the screen. Speak of the devil.
Biker boy: What did you wear to the party?
I frown. What? With Henry talking to me, I quickly type out my reply.
Me: A green dress
Why does he care?
“Makes sense. You’re together all the time.”
“What?” I place my phone back on the table.
“It makes sense,” he repeats. “You’re with them all the time.”
I smile with a light shake of my head before taking a sip of my drink. “Sorry. Yes, that’s true.”
He waits for me to put my drink back on the table. “And the biker?”
Closing my eyes, I’m not sure what he wants me to tell him. I’m not going home yet, to him, or my father. So, I give him the truth like a smack to the face, feeling defensive. “We slept together, but he’s clearly been busy because I haven’t seen him, haven’t even heard from him until today. That what you wanted to hear? Did it make you feel better?” My eyes turn glassy with every word I mutter, clearly taking my lack of communication with Travis, out on him.
“Jesus, Mollie.” He shifts, uncomfortable in his chair.
“What? That’s what you wanted to know, right? That not all of it’s going well.”
Henry shakes his head. Then he sits forward, resting his elbows on the table, bringing his face closer to mine. We stare at each other, our gazes locked. Loaded.
My phone unexpectedly rings, breaking the moment. But Sarah coming back makes me stop before I answer it, turning it over so that it’s face down on the table.
She slides her arm around Henry’s neck, sitting on his lap like a goddess.
I notice his hand slide to her thigh, and it’s now me who shifts uncomfortably. I turn my back to them as she swallows his face, and I look to the man who’s saved me tonight.
He slides a glass of champagne towards me, reading the situation so perfectly. “Get this in you.”
I shouldn’t, but I take a large sip. “Thanks.” I grab my bag from the table. “I owe you a dance later,” I tell him, placing an arm on his shoulder as I stand.
The old boy winks at me. “I’ll hold you to it.”
Then I stride away, cold, but in control, with absolutely nowhere and nobody to go to.