Chapter 16
ALEX
Mum was in a surprisingly good mood this morning - which could mean one of two things. Either she’d met someone she really liked last night, or she’d had a win at the casino. It didn’t matter though, I was smart enough to know it wouldn’t last.
The smell of bacon and eggs hit my nose as I walked into the kitchen, school uniform on. My ribs still ached, but you’d be surprised how fast the body learns to cope. Or at least pretends to.
Mum was at the stove in her pyjamas, shaking the pan as she danced to the radio on the windowsill. A smile tugged at her mouth when she saw me.
“Good morning, love.” She put the pan down. “Bacon? Eggs?”
I nodded, a little confused by her mood but not about to question it. She had days like this - days where she suddenly decided to be the version of herself she wished she could be all the time. Like she woke up and decided to put on her mum jeans.
“Get a plate out then,” she said, gesturing to the cabinet.
I bent down to grab one, hiding the wince that shot through my ribs. She didn’t notice - or maybe she did and chose not to comment. Hard to tell with her.
She held her hand out, took the plate from me, and loaded it with two eggs, two rashers, and a slice of toast she’d just pulled from the toaster. She handed it back with a wink.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling despite myself as I walked over to the breakfast bar and sat on one of the stools.
I eyed the clutter on the counter to my left - the usual mess.
Money scattered, lighters, knives that looked to be straight out a horror movie and other random bits and pieces that didn’t belong in a kitchen.
Things I’d learned not to react to. Not to question.
I couldn’t help watching her as she danced around the kitchen - blue pyjama shorts, matching T-shirt that read don’t wake me I’m dreaming , hair in a messy bun, mascara smudged under her eyes from last night.
I always liked her natural. When she did her makeup, she went all in - heavy liner, bright lipstick, like she was trying to paint confidence onto her face.
But this version of her - sleepy, messy, humming off-key - felt more real.
More herself .
She got a tub of butter from the fridge and handed me a knife and fork. I took it and started buttering my toast. Mum sauntered over to the kettle, turning it on with a twirl before relighting her cigarette.
“So go on then,” I said, taking a bite of toast. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
She huffed. “Can’t I just be happy to make you breakfast without you questioning it?” Her eyebrows shot up, but she was grinning.
Shaking my head, I breathed, “Fine, I won’t ask then,” and took another bite.
She sighed dramatically, then leaned over the counter, facing me. “Okay, but you can’t go telling your brother.”
“Mum…” I said, already uneasy. Nothing good ever started with don’t tell Connor .
“Fine, I won’t tell you then.” She turned her back on me, still swaying her hips to the radio.
I let out a defeated exhale. “Okay. I won’t tell him. What is it?”
She spun back around, excitement lighting up her whole face. “I met someone last night.”
Knew it.
“He’s like head over heels for me and he wants to take me to Spain. This weekend.”
“What?” I said, the food in my mouth suddenly tasting dry.
“He’s got this villa out there, proper fancy, and he wants to take me.” She pressed a hand to her chest like she couldn’t believe it herself.
“And you’re going?” I asked, getting up to grab orange juice from the fridge. My ribs protested, but I kept my face straight.
“Of course I’m going to go. Did you not hear me right? A handsome man is taking me to Spain.”
No - I heard her perfectly. And if it were anyone else, maybe I’d be excited for her.
But Mum had a habit of choosing the wrong men.
The kind who talked big, acted bigger, and left bruises behind when the shine wore off.
Connor always sorted them out eventually, but Connor wouldn’t be there in some villa in Spain.
That’s why she hadn’t told him. Because he’d shut it down instantly.
“But you just met this guy,” I said, trying not to crush her buzz completely. “How much do you even know about him?”
“I know that he likes me,” she said simply. “Isn’t that enough?”
Her eyes widened, disappointment flickering there, and it made something in my chest sink.
She deserved to feel wanted. She deserved something good.
And it looked like she was going to go whether I liked it or not.
That’s if it even happened. A few drunken promises at a pub from a guy she barely knew.
Yeah. What were the chances he was going to carry out his offer.
So I swallowed my worry and forced a smile.
“I am, Mum,” I said, taking a bite of bacon. “It’s really exciting.”
“I know!” She laughed, her mood instantly changing. “I’ve got to pack.” She beamed, already half-talking to herself. “What do you think I should wear? Ugh, I have no clothes.”
“You have so many clothes,” I laughed, taking a sip of my drink.
“They’re all shit,” she groaned, shaking her head. “I’m going to have to go shopping.”
Her eyes darted to the counter, and before I could say anything, she slid a few notes off it and tucked them into her bra.
“Mum…” I warned. “Connor will flip.”
“Oh, he’ll be fine,” she said breezily. “He won’t even notice.”
She was probably right. She usually was about this sort of thing. I was sure she did it a lot - slipping bits of money here and there when Connor wasn’t looking. He always had cash lying around, stacks of it, like it didn’t matter. But I knew better than to underestimate him.
It looked like chaos, but it wasn’t. Not really.
It was organised in a way only he understood - a system that looked messy to everyone else but made perfect sense to him. And if something went missing, even by accident, even by a few notes…
I’d be the one he questioned first.
I’d learned that the hard way.
“So what are you going to tell him?” I asked, ignoring the dread curling in my stomach. “When you’re gone all weekend.”
“I’ll think of something,” she said with a shrug. “Don’t you worry about it.”
But I did worry.
“Worry about what?” Connor said, stepping into the kitchen.
Instantly, my whole body went rigid. It was automatic - like a switch flipping. My shoulders tightened, my breath shortened, my ribs throbbed in warning. I kept my eyes on my plate.
“Alex has a test today, in class,” Mum lied smoothly, like she’d rehearsed it and relit her cigarette. “I was just telling him not to worry.”
“What did I tell you about worrying about school?” he said, grabbing a plate and helping himself to the food Mum made. “You don’t need it. You got the family business right here.”
“I know,” I said, forcing a smile as I kept eating.
“I don’t know,” Mum said, turning to me with a grin. “Alex is a smart boy.” She winked. “Got two A’s in your GCSEs, didn’t you?” She ruffled my hair. “My smart boy.”
I blinked, surprised. I didn’t think she even knew that.
“What?” she laughed. “I do pay attention, you know. I like to know how you’re getting on.”
“You never cared when I was at school,” Connor huffed, crossing his arms like he was still sixteen.
“That’s because when you were at school, all you did was cause trouble,” Mum shot back, flicking ash into the sink. “You didn’t even get GCSEs - you got kicked out before you had the chance.”
Connor let out a chuckle. “True,” he said with a shrug.
He was in a good mood. Thank God. I counted my lucky stars for it.
“Still,” he added, turning to me with that stern look that made my pulse spike, “he’ll learn more from being with me, won’t you?”
I nodded.
“He’s working with me on Saturday, aren’t you, kid?”
Mum’s eyebrows shot up. She didn’t like me being involved - not that she’d ever say it out loud. Not to him.
I nodded again, keeping my face neutral.
Don’t say the wrong thing. Don’t draw attention.
I stood up casually and walked to the bin to scrape the food I didn’t want. Before I could tip the plate, his hand clamped down on my shoulder.
My blood pressure spiked. My ribs screamed. My breath caught.
“What, you not eating that?” he asked, eyebrows drawn together.
I shook my head.
He took the plate from me and dumped the leftovers onto his own. “Can’t waste good food,” he said, and Mum smiled at him like he’d said something charming.
I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding and made for the door.
“You off, hun?” Mum asked.
I nodded.
She walked over, kissed my forehead, and whispered, “Good luck with that test,” with a wink.
“Thanks,” I said, managing a small smile.