Chapter One #2
Maddie had never heard that name before in her entire life, but she nodded.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he challenged her with a grin.
“No,” she admitted, a little grumpily.
“I don’t blame you. I was an invisible teen.”
Maddie almost confided in him that she knew how that felt — almost asked him if he still felt invisible now.
But as she turned to do so, she got a proper look at him, and his appearance answered her question.
He was tall — not quite six feet, but close — with a mop of curly black hair and eyes the colour of milky coffee.
His lips were thin and framed by silver-speckled stubble.
He had the bearing of a much younger man, but the crow’s feet beside his eyes belied his youthful aura, as did the black skinny jeans and Chelsea boots — millennial indie-boy staples Marley also refused to give up.
He was objectively beautiful. There was no way he felt invisible now.
Lucky bastard . The next best thing to being what society deemed beautiful your entire life — like Maddie’s sister Bluebell — was almost certainly being considered unattractive when you were young and then growing into a swan.
Maddie, on the other hand, had always felt plain.
Ordinary. Five foot six with thick, brown, shoulder-length hair — which she frequently wanted to chop off.
She was entirely unremarkable. She ate like an average-sized woman and therefore she was one.
She had once considered herself reasonably fashionable, but now she dressed like almost every other woman in her village, in jeans, T-shirts and — if she absolutely had to go out — boots.
Wellingtons if she was trudging the countryside, ankle boots if she was venturing to the high street.
Sometimes she would shove a patterned headscarf on her head, but only if she was feeling fancy.
She had nice skin, which was lucky, because she rarely had the desire to put on much make-up.
Perhaps, on reflection, that was why her skin looked so fresh.
When people complimented her they typically told her she had a nice smile.
Sometimes they commented on her skin tone — a shade her favourite foundation manufacturer called caramel beige .
Maddie thought that was an apt description, because beige was both how she felt and how she had been treated her entire life.
Her sister insisted that such treatment wasn’t because Maddie wasn’t spectacular — but because she was so good at making herself invisible.
“I knew your brothers,” James continued. “Bowie and Marley. We used to go to all the same gigs before they went off to uni. They’re cool.”
Maddie agreed with a nod and didn’t elaborate.
She was still surprised how often she implied Bowie was still alive to avoid announcing his death to another unsuspecting fan of her brother’s.
She admonished herself every time, but couldn’t help it.
She couldn’t bring herself to say the words unless she absolutely had to.
“They were a few years older than me and the only cool kids at school who didn’t either bully me or ignore me altogether,” James continued.
Maddie nodded, but said nothing.
“Jeez, how long is this driveway?” he added.
“The house is just beyond these trees,” Maddie said.
“Is it a mansion?” His flippancy irritated her. She already knew how lucky she was.
“Dad owned a successful content-writing company and sold it for a good amount a few years ago,” she explained.
“Nice.” James nodded, falling silent. She wasn’t sure if he’d run out of things to say or if he sensed she was annoyed.
Either way, she didn’t really care. She braced herself for an inane comment as the house came into view, but she still wasn’t prepared for his brazenness.
“‘A good amount’ is an understatement, isn’t it? ”
“He’s a hard-working man and was very successful,” Maddie said, feeling defensive.
Ben Whittle was the best man most people had ever met.
He’d sacrificed a lot to give his wife and children an exceptional life, including precious time making memories with them.
Ben was incredibly family-orientated — he’d spend every moment with his wife, children and grandchild given the chance.
It had once pained him to devote so many hours to work, but he’d done it because he’d had an opportunity to make them all extremely comfortable and he’d wanted that for them all, more than anything.
“I’m sure.” James nodded.
Maddie felt anger swell within her. She’d met many people like James through the years — people who thought her father stumbled into fortune and that she was an entitled princess — and though she typically brushed off their commentary, for some reason, something about James saying it riled.
How dare he comment on them when he had no idea of the hell they’d been through these past few years?
She thought about telling him to fuck off, but the piglet needed to be caught and then removed from the grounds.
Along with its owner. Maddie surveyed the area.
She was about to suggest they head towards the wooded area when the front door opened to reveal her mother.
“There’s a pig in the house!” she shouted.
Maddie and James glanced at each other, then set off towards her.
Emma didn’t appear perturbed. If anything she looked like she found the whole thing funny.
“It’s dragged mud everywhere. Dad opened the door to feed the robin and it ran right in as if it lived here.
He coaxed it into the orangery with a croissant. It’s eating the strawberry vines.”
Maddie groaned. The orangery was brand new, having been built just a few months ago. Her mother had always wanted one and Maddie felt like it would be a good addition to her planned renovations, so they’d split the cost at Maddie’s insistence.
“I’ll get him, don’t worry,” James said.
“Oh, is he yours?” Emma asked, leading them inside the house. She stopped in the foyer, looking disappointed. “I was hoping we could keep him. We’ve named him Pigglesworth Snortimer.”
In spite of her annoyance, Maddie smiled at that.
Emma’s cheeks were rosy with excitement.
A pig was the last thing they needed, but she was powerless when it came to her mother, especially since they’d lost Bowie.
It had taken Emma such a long time to find joy in anything other than her new grandson, Benjamin, so when she was enlivened by something, it was difficult to say no.
She wondered if James would let them keep the pig if they asked.
James shook his head. “He’s not mine. He escaped from the farm where I work. I got sent to come and look for him.”
Emma blinked dramatically. Clearly confused, James turned to Maddie, and before she could stop herself, she drew back with a flinch. She was fairly certain she hadn’t been this surprised in a while. She wasn’t sure what she expected a farm worker to look like, but James was not it.
“What?” he asked, searching himself, his eyes widening. “Is there a spider on my face?”
“We’re vegan,” Maddie said, as if that settled everything.
“Oh.” James stopped fidgeting and eyed her a little sheepishly. “Sorry?” he tried.
“Was that a question?” Maddie asked.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“Well, you can’t take the piglet,” Maddie said. Emma nodded her agreement.
It was James’ turn to blink pointedly. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t let you take the pig back to the farm,” Maddie said.
“OK...” James held his head high so that his sceptical gaze rolled off his long nose like a ski slope. “I mean, you can’t really stop me.”
“Wanna bet?” Maddie braced herself.
James faltered. “It doesn’t belong to you.”
“Prove it.” Maddie crossed her arms across her chest.
“I’ll call the police.” James mirrored her.
She shrugged. “And say what?”
“That there’s a piglet here and it’s not yours, it’s mine!”
“You just said it wasn’t yours.” Maddie smirked.
“I don’t have time for this.” James unfolded his arms and took out his phone. “Take me to the pig, or I’ll call them right now.”
“You’d better get off my property while you call or I’ll report you for trespassing,” Maddie shot back.
“It’s not your property, it’s your dad’s,” James said, rather pointedly. His comment made Maddie’s cheeks flush. His contempt for her privilege was clear as he eyed her, a satisfied smirk threatening to burst free.
She shrugged. “Then I’ll get my dad to remove you.
” The threat sounded pathetic when she said it aloud.
Her dad had never ‘removed’ anyone in his entire life.
He was physically unimposing, logical and diplomatic.
But James didn’t know that. She thought her mother might laugh and ruin things, but she didn’t.
“You brought me up here — and into your house!” James said.
“Prove that, too, while you’re at it.”
James opened his mouth to speak, but Emma, who had been watching them argue — like she was watching a tennis match — held her hands up to silence them both.