Chapter 5
LIAM
He was late. Later than he’d intended to be anyway.
Liam helped the committee tidy up the mugs and plates on the table, feeling his heartbeat notch up.
A sure sign that he was getting stressed.
Jenny wasn’t going to complain about having Charlie for longer, but the later he tried to transfer his son to his own bed and woke him, the less sleep they were both going to get.
He had a busy day tomorrow and wasn’t wild about the idea of wrangling an overtired four-year-old who didn’t want to go to preschool on top of that.
‘I really need to go,’ he told Eleanor, sparing Clara a quick smile – and feeling irritated when he noticed the tell-tale stirring of heat in his limbs.
She was having the oddest effect on him.
Right from the moment he’d first seen her when he’d got out of the car.
When she’d been standing outside The Cosy Christmas Shop dripping with slush — those huge green eyes staring at him in pure surprise and her damp shoulder-length bob clinging to her pale face.
She’d been pouting too – pouting. Not an irritated ‘I’m annoyed you didn’t do the washing up’ pout – more of a subtle pinch of her rosebud lips.
Like she was trying to work out what had just happened.
And in that moment his stomach had decided to launch itself off a cliff just like it had when he’d first met Mia.
Before he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
Scratch that – if he hadn’t fallen for her, there would be no Charlie, and his son was worth all the heartache. Liam knew he’d bear the whole world’s pain for just a single smile from his boy’s lips.
He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice.
‘Will you be okay?’ His eyes flashed to the door as if confirming he still had an exit and Figgy tugged at the lead, determined to get to Clara’s silk shirt.
‘I’ve got to dash, but Eleanor can get you back to the shop.
I assume you’re staying there?’ he blurted.
Was he asking because he wanted to know where she was going to be?
It’s not like he was going to offer her a bed if she said no.
The blood rushed to his cheeks as he imagined it.
‘Of course Clara will stay with me!’ Eleanor said, looping an arm around the younger woman’s small shoulders, which emphasised their height differences.
The older woman was at least five foot seven, and Clara was a good four inches shorter.
Petite and curvy with a tiny waist – just his type.
If he was looking. Which he definitely wasn’t.
‘It’s been far too long and we’ve got so much to catch up on. I’ve got a spare room, so Clara can make herself at home for as long as she likes. In fact, she can stay forever if the fancy takes her.’ Eleanor beamed.
‘Yes, thanks,’ the younger woman said as her whole body seemed to sag into her godmother like a piece of a puzzle that had finally found its way home. She brushed a lock of brown hair from her cheek. ‘And thanks for helping me today.’ Her eyes met his and something inside his stomach somersaulted.
‘It was the least I could do after almost drowning you.’ He started to back away and as he did, he caught the way Eleanor’s gaze zigzagged between them.
He wanted to tell her no, that wasn’t going to happen, but he wasn’t looking to draw attention to whatever was winding its way between them. ‘I guess I’ll see you at the—’
‘I’ll explain everything to Clara tomorrow, when she’s not so tired,’ Eleanor interjected. ‘Nothing to worry about, love. Liam, don’t worry about us either. You get off.’ She untangled her arm from Clara and wagged it towards the door.
Liam nodded, then he took off with Figgy trotting by his side trying to keep up. He wasn’t running, definitely not running – he was just worried he was going to be late. He felt a buzz in his pocket indicating he’d received another message just as he broke into a sprint.
I doubt this surprise is on your Christmas list. Good luck, because you’re going to need it.
Liam was reading the ominous text on his mobile – which was from the same number as the mysterious voicemail – and had almost reached his car when he saw the man and his whole body froze.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise really.
What was more surprising is that he hadn’t seen him in almost seven months.
They lived in the same small village, but he usually managed to avoid bumping into him.
Did everything in his power to make sure he didn’t.
It was just tonight hadn’t exactly worked out the way he’d planned.
‘Liam!’ He heard the gravelly voice – so like his own – and stopped in his tracks on the cobbled pavement wishing he could just ignore it.
The man walked slowly towards him and as he approached, Liam could see he’d lost weight.
He looked older – older than Liam, which made him a little sad.
Perhaps the guilt of what he’d done kept him up at night?
Liam wasn’t evolved enough not to feel a spark of satisfaction.
‘You look good,’ the man said as he drew to a stop, close enough to talk but not so close that Liam could take a swing at him.
He studied his twin brother, waiting for the bubble of anger to rise in his throat, waiting for the fury that would make every muscle in his body tense.
Waiting for the grief too. But it didn’t come. He just felt numb.
‘Graham,’ he said simply, rolling the name around his tongue. He hadn’t said it aloud for a long time and it felt odd to do it now. ‘You don’t. Look good I mean.’
His brother jerked his chin, acknowledging the observation which was more truth than retribution. ‘How’s…’ Graham cleared his throat.
What had always been so natural between them – conversations, the sharing of secrets, the kind of teasing you could only do with someone you knew well – had been pummelled to nothing. Now all they were left with was this awkward fumble for words.
‘Your nephew, Charlie?’ Liam asked sharply. ‘Good.’ It took all of his self-control not to add ‘despite what you and Mia did’. He wasn’t petty. At least he hadn’t been once.
Graham nodded, his face twisting as if he was in pain. ‘I’d like to see him. I’d like to see you so I can explain,’ he said, the flush creeping up his cheeks signalling he was uncomfortable about asking.
‘No,’ Liam said firmly, eyeing his car. He was so close. He could release himself from this horrible situation in less than seventeen steps, only his feet didn’t seem to want to move.
His brother nodded, his lips twisting further downwards, mirroring one of Liam’s own expressions.
His chest heaved. ‘You have every right to hate me. But I’ve told you I’m sorry in every way I can think of.
I’ve said I made a mistake.’ He paused. ‘Only mistake doesn’t feel like a big enough word to describe what I did.
’ Graham’s whole body seemed to sag as if he couldn’t hold the weight of his cold, cheating heart.
‘Now I suppose I’m just offering an open invitation.
’ He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
‘Please come to the pub so we can talk. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I’m not even asking you to move on.
I just want…’ He ground his teeth. ‘I want my brother back. I’m sorry.
’ His voice broke on the last couple of words, and he tipped his head backwards, signalling the direction of The Silver Bells pub.
The spray of warm Christmas lights along the pavement that would take him straight to its door suddenly seemed too bright in the darkness.
Liam knew the pub, though, knew every inch of it. His brother had been running it for the last six years. Liam hadn’t crossed the threshold for two and a half.
He’d once helped behind the bar. They’d laughed and joked while they served customers. It had been his second home. And that whole time, he’d been oblivious to the fact that his brother had slept with his wife.
‘I don’t think so,’ he said roughly, and this time his feet did move. He sidestepped Graham and began to walk, tugging Figgy who was sniffing his brother’s trousers. Thick corduroy this time – another of his dog’s favourites.
‘Please think about it.’ He heard the echo of Graham’s voice as it followed him. Felt the wave of anger finally bite. The swirl of emotion he thought he’d buried.
It wasn’t as strong now, though – time hadn’t so much healed, it had paralyzed.
But it was still there. For the first time since Liam’s life had imploded, he wondered if it was holding him back.
Wondered if this cold, stark loneliness that seemed to have marred the edges of his soul could be erased and if he could ever find his way back to the people he’d once loved.
But as he unclicked the locks on his car and swung the back door open for Figgy, he dismissed the thought. He wasn’t ready to forgive any of them. He was fine as he was.