Chapter Eighteen
December 2014, Canterbury, Kent, England
Molly arrived back in Canterbury the following day feeling hungover and miserable. By the time they’d left the bar last night, she had been exhausted and monosyllabic. They hadn’t left after another drink, or even two more drinks. They’d stayed until the early hours of the morning. Mark had introduced Molly to all of his colleagues, but then proceeded to ignore her while he talked to them. She had fallen asleep in the taxi on the way back to his flat and he’d had to wake her up when they got there, where she sleepily stumbled inside and fell into bed in her clothes.
She’d planned to tackle Mark about his behaviour when she’d woken up that morning, but he was still on a high from the night before. His networking had landed him a trip to Copenhagen, with the possibility of another big investment on the cards. She’d swallowed her feelings along with her breakfast, before packing her bags to leave. When she asked him to walk her to the station, he’d told her he was too busy sorting out the Copenhagen trip, so she’d walked by herself, the harsh stab of rejection twisting in her chest.
She let herself into her house, after a long day at work, which she’d spent avoiding her colleagues, fed up with plastering on a smile and pretending everything was fine, when it wasn’t.
The house was cold and empty, and she shivered as she put the heating on, and walked into the kitchen. The fridge was pretty much empty, and it was too late to defrost anything. Instead, she ordered her favourite Thai green curry and sticky jasmine rice, then changed into her pyjamas.
When her food arrived, she put the curry and rice into a bowl and sat with it on the sofa. She tried to concentrate on the documentary on the TV, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Mark and the party. The strange vibe between Beth and Mark. The way that he had dismissed her when she told him that she felt uncomfortable. How out of place she felt there. She would probably never fit into his world, and she knew that he had no interest in fitting into hers. So where did that leave them? Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up.
Liz: Are you back from the land of glass, steel, and eye wateringly expensive suits. Are you OK? I KNOW something’s off X
Molly wrinkled her nose.
Molly: Am really hungover and Mark was a bit of a dick last night at his work Christmas thing. X
Liz’s response made her laugh out loud.
Liz: Mark was a dick? Shocker! It’s a good thing he’s hot because he’s not got a lot else going for him X
Molly: I feel like crap today and I couldn’t face a row with him but I’m getting tired of his shit. When he gets back, I’m going to have it out with him X
Liz: I would like ringside tickets to this please X
She put her phone down and flicked through the TV guide, choosing a channel showing a film that she had never seen before. John Williams’ iconic introductory score started and the words “Star Wars” flashed across the screen. She wrapped herself in a blanket and as she lay down on the sofa, she felt a gentle rush of contentment. The doors were locked. The curtains were drawn for once, blocking out the darkness. She was safe.
***
Molly woke up on the sofa the next morning and rubbed her eyes. She’d been asleep for almost twelve hours, and she felt so much better for it. She picked up her phone and checked her messages.
Papa: I’m at the airport. My flight is on time. I will see you in London my darling girl X
She smiled. He would be sat in the airport, his glasses perched on his nose, his head stuck in a book. He would have had a strong coffee and a croissant or some toast and jam before he packed his battered leather suitcase and left his house. He always wore sunglasses outdoors, whatever the weather. He was stylish, but not fashionable. He’d worn the same straight legged blue jeans for the last twenty years, always paired with a shirt. A dress shirt when it was cold, with a cashmere sweater over the top, or a linen shirt in the summer, the top buttons open to reveal the thin silver chain her mum had bought him. His predictability was comforting but seeing him was bittersweet. All the while he wasn”t there, she didn”t miss him, but as soon as he had to leave, the heavy sense of longing came back. She replied to his message.
Molly: Great news! I’ll see you at Victoria at 4. Love you x
She put her phone down and ambled into the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea and warming a frozen croissant in the oven. Her dad wouldn’t approve, but she didn’t care. She slathered it in apricot jam and sat with a mug of tea at the dining table, watching the wind lashing the trees outside. Her phone buzzed and she picked it up, hoping her dad’s flight hadn’t been cancelled. It wasn’t from him though.
Chris: Hey Molly, how are you? I haven’t heard from you and I don’t know if Saskia told you but she invited me to come tonight. Is that OK?
Before the kiss, before that night, it would have been fine for him to come, to be moral support for Scott, who would be under the scrutinising gaze of her dad, but now, it was a disaster waiting to happen. Of course Saskia invited him, Molly thought to herself. She loved to stir things up.
Molly: I didn’t know she had invited you! I’m sorry I’ve not been in touch. I’ve been busy with work, but I’m looking forward to seeing you later on.
She sent the message and the butterflies which had lay dormant in her stomach for the past few days came to life. Tonight she would see Chris again. And she would have to ensure that she didn’t let on that anything had happened between them in front of the man who missed nothing.
Knowing that Chris was coming tonight, she toned her outfit down. She would have loved to have worn a dress and high heels, but she’d decided to play it safe, with wide legged black velvet trousers, high heels, and a black and white striped long sleeved top with a high neckline. She styled her hair to cover the scar on her eyebrow so that her father wouldn”t see it as she hadn”t told him about being mugged and didn”t plan to.
With an overnight bag packed, Molly drove to the station and climbed onto the train. She was staying at Saskia’s flat tonight after the show, and as the train sped towards London, a rush of excitement flooded through her.
When the train reached Victoria station, Molly got off the train and squealed as she spotted a familiar figure walking towards her.
‘Papa!’
‘Molly ! ?a va ?’ His face lit up and he pulled her into a tight embrace.
‘Tres bien, Papa, how are you?’
It had only been a few months since she’d last seen him, but he seemed to have changed. He seemed older, more fragile somehow. As expected, his smart wool coat was finished with a thick red scarf and his long legs were clad in the usual dark blue jeans. His hair, a mass of grey and white curls, was as untamed as usual, hugging the slender frame of his face.
‘I am very well, chérie,’ he replied. ‘You’re looking beautiful as always, my darling.’
‘Thank you, Papa.’ She smiled at him.
He let her go and straightened his scarf. ‘Are you going to lead the way? I have no idea where we are going.’
‘Of course, follow me.’ She gripped his arm tightly in hers and led him out of the station and onto a bus.
They took two empty seats at the back and Molly held onto his hand tightly as the bus joined the chaotic London traffic, and he began peppering her with questions.
‘I still cannot believe my own daughter is in a West End show. I can’t wait to see her. How is she? Is she enjoying living in London? Are you OK in that house on your own?’
She struggled to keep up with the flow of questions but knew that he wouldn’t stop until he had got everything off his mind. That was just what he was like. They climbed off the bus, her hand still clutching his as they walked to the pub, where she pushed the door open and made her way to an empty seat at the bar.
‘Papa, what are you having?’ she asked.
‘A glass of red wine, I think.’ He squinted at the bottles on the counter. ‘Whatever they’ve got, I’m not fussy.’
She smirked. He was fussy but he was just trying to be accommodating.
She ordered a wine for her dad and a rum and Coke for herself, which the barman placed onto the counter in front of them, giving her a broad smile.
‘Thank you,’ she said, and nodded to her before moving onto the next customer.
‘Santé,’ she said, as she clinked her glass with her dad’s.
‘Santé,’ he replied. ‘I have been waiting a long time for tonight. I think this will be Saskia’s big break.’
‘Me too,’ she said, and her eyes flicked to the door.
Her breath left her body in a dramatic exhale as Chris walked in. He was wearing his navy silk bomber jacket with a dark T-shirt underneath and a pair of tight jeans. She imagined his arms sliding around her and forced herself to look away from him, noticing Scott following Chris into the pub. She did a double take. His scruffy stubble was gone, his hair was immaculately styled, and he wore a thick black cashmere jumper under his leather jacket. He clearly wanted to make a good impression on her dad, and she silently wished him luck. Her dad would not go easy on him. She waved them over and they made their way towards her.
‘Scott, Chris, this is my dad, Gaspard,’ she said. Her eyes met Chris’s and she saw the familiar twinkle in them. The one that made her stomach lurch. She looked away from him, and at Scott, whose hand was clasped in her dad’s.
‘Pleased to meet you, Gaspard,’ Scott said.
He nodded. ‘I have heard a lot about you from Saskia. It is good to put a face to the name.’
‘Should I be worried?’ Scott asked, with a nervous smile on his face.
‘Not yet,’ He replied. He turned to Chris. ‘Good to meet you, Chris. I hear you introduced Scott to Saskia.’
‘I did,’ Chris said. ‘On Halloween. She was dressed as Gomez Addams and Molly was Morticia.’ He paused. ‘You’re Gaspard Millot!’
Molly sighed heavily and took a big gulp of her drink.
Chris’s eyes widened and he turned to Molly. ‘Molly, you didn’t tell me your dad was Gaspard Millot!’
Gaspard smiled at Chris. ‘A fan! How wonderful.’ A huge smile spread across his face.
She shook her head. ‘This is why I didn’t tell you! I knew how much you liked his books. I thought you’d explode if you knew he was my dad.’
‘I’m a massive fan of your books,’ Chris said to Gaspard. ‘They’re phenomenal.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘You are much younger than most of my readers.’
‘I found one of your books on my dad’s bedside table when I was about ten. I read it twice and since then I’ve tried to find all of them,’ Chris said as he peeled off his coat. He held out his hand. ‘It’s so good to meet you.’
Gaspard took Chris’s hand and shook it. ‘I am pleased you enjoy them. I am in the middle of writing one now. Perhaps you would like to see a draft of it when I am ready?’
‘Of course I would!’ Chris spluttered. ‘Detective Rousseau is my hero.’
Gaspard grinned. ‘Really?’
Molly nodded. ‘I think he’s learnt how to be a detective from your books. He’s spookily accurate. He sees things almost everyone else would miss.’
‘Ah, well you know I used to be a police detective in my twenties?’ Gaspard said to Chris. ‘When Molly came along, I decided I needed a slightly less unpredictable career, and started writing instead.’
‘You can tell that you know what you’re talking about,’ Chris replied. ‘I’ve read a lot of crime thrillers, but they aren’t as good as yours.’
Gaspard waved his hand. ‘Thank you, I appreciate that. Perhaps you would like to become one of my advanced readers? You would get copies of my books before they are released.’
‘I would love that,’ Chris said excitedly.
Annoyed with her dad for taking over the conversation, as usual, Molly turned to the bartender. ‘Hi, I’ve got a table reserved in the name of Millot and we’re all here now.’
‘Yes, I’ve got you here, the bartender said, looking up from the book in front of him, nodding to a passing waitress. ‘Kat will show you to your table.’
When they sat down, her eyes met Chris’s across the table. Why did he have to be so hot? Why did he have to be so kind? Why did he have to have a chest that she wanted to lay her head against?
Gaspard picked up his menu and put his glasses on, then turned to Molly. ‘Pie and mash tonight then, Molly?’
‘Bien s?r !’ Molly replied. Every time she’d been to London with her dad, they’d had pie and mash, something he didn’t have at home in Provence.
To Molly’s relief, the food arrived quickly. She kept her eye on her watch as they ate, knowing that they still had to walk to the theatre and find their seats, and she hated being late. Gaspard and Scott seemed far more relaxed. They were in the middle of a lengthy discussion about their favourite wines. She smiled to herself, wishing that Saskia could be here to see how Scott was holding his own against their dad. She leant over and stole one of Chris’s chips, dipping it in his ketchup. He held her gaze for slightly too long. Just long enough for her heart to start pounding faster. Long enough for her to watch the light from the candle on the table flicker in his eyes. She took a deep breath and focused on her dinner, not daring to look at Chris.
As the waiter took their empty plates, Molly cleared her throat. ‘We’ve probably got time for another drink if you want one?’
Scott shot out of his seat. ‘I’ll go and get them.’
Chris stood up too. ‘I’ll come and give you a hand, mate.’
Once they had left the table Gaspard turned to Molly, gesturing to where Chris had been sitting. ‘Molly, Je vois comment tu le regardes. Tu es amoureux, non ?’
‘Non,’ Molly replied quickly.
Her dad was speaking in French, meaning he didn”t want to be easily overheard. He’d seen them together and thought they were in love. She wasn’t in love with Chris, and he wasn’t in love with her.
‘Nous sommes justes amis, Papa.’
Chris had made it very clear that they were just friends, and so she said the same thing to her dad.
‘Non, c’est ne pas vrai.’ He shook his head and finished his glass of wine.
‘Je te le dirai plus tard,’ she said.
She would speak to him later. She didn’t want to talk about it now, but he’d told her that that wasn’t true - and he was right. She’d been rumbled. He didn’t believe her.
‘Je veux être son ami mais j”ai des sentiments pour lui.’ This was the actual truth.
He was her friend. And she had feelings for him.
Gaspard nodded. ‘Comme je le pensais. Il ressent la même chose.’
Of course it was what he already thought. He missed nothing. But, Molly thought, it was interesting that her dad thought that Chris felt the same way.
She looked up, realising that Chris was standing next to her just at the moment that her dad told her that he thought Chris had feelings for her.
‘Rum and Coke,’ Chris said.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, wondering what he had heard.
***
As the curtain dropped, Molly turned to Chris, who was sat next to her. ‘What did you think?’
‘She was incredible,’ Chris replied. ‘Everyone was, but she was amazing. I had no idea she could sing like that.’ He turned to Gaspard. ‘Tu dois être très fier d”elle.’
‘Ah oui, je suis tellement fier.’ Gaspard nodded enthusiastically. ‘Elle est très talentueuse.’
‘I didn’t know you spoke French,’ Molly whispered to Chris as they walked to the theatre bar.
She was both impressed by his French, and the fact that he’d said that her dad must be proud of Saskia.
‘Layers,’ he whispered back, raising an eyebrow at her.
Molly stared back at him wide eyed. Had he overheard the conversation she’d had with her dad? He had appeared not long after they’d stopped talking. She sucked in a breath.
The bar door opened and a bare faced Saskia, clad in a long dress, thick tights, and black boots flew in. She ran straight to her dad, wrapping her arms around him.
‘Papa ! Qu”as-tu pensé? As-tu aimé le spectacle ?’
‘Incroyable !’ Gaspard said, his words muffled in Saskia’s hair.
‘Can we grab a drink?’ Saskia said as she let her dad go. ‘I’m on such a high. It was better than I’d expected. I cocked up my lines in rehearsal, and I was so nervous, but it went so well.’
‘Of course,’ Gaspard said. ‘Champagne, I think, don’t you?’ He nodded to the bartender and ordered a bottle.
‘One glass,’ Saskia said. ‘I’ve got to pace myself, it’s only the first night.’
‘You were just breathtaking, Saskia. I’m so proud of you.’ Molly gave Saskia a hug.
‘Thanks, Mole.’ Her eyes shone with tears as she pulled away from Molly. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.’
‘Me too,’ Molly replied, then nodded to Scott, who was helping Gaspard pour the Champagne into glasses. ‘I think someone else has missed you too.’
Saskia grinned as she walked up to Scott, sliding her arms around his neck. ‘It’s been forever since I last saw you,’ she said.
‘Too long,’ he replied and pulled her towards him, kissing her.
‘Wow,’ Molly said, taking a glass of Champagne from her dad. ‘Probably best we leave them to it.’
‘Saskia!’ A husky voice rang out across the crowded bar.
Molly turned around. The husky voice belonged to Caro, who was wearing a turquoise coat, her make-up immaculate, her auburn curls bouncing across her shoulders. She wasn’t alone. Her arm was tucked into the arm of a tall, dark-haired man. His tan leather brogues were expensive, like the ones that Mark wore, and as he raised a hand to greet Saskia, a discrete gold signet ring sparkled on his little finger.
‘That’s Caro’s boyfriend, Jeremy,’ Saskia whispered as Caro and Jeremy walked towards them. ‘They’re very full on.’
‘Full on?’ Molly whispered back. ‘What do you mean?’
Before Saskia could respond, Caro was in front of them.
‘Hello Molly, darling,’ Caro said, kissing Molly’s cheek. ‘What did you think?’
‘It was brilliant!’ Molly said as Caro studied her intently. ‘Your voice is stunning. ’
‘You’re too kind,’ Caro replied, then gestured to the man next to her. ‘This is Jeremy, my boyfriend. Jeremy, this is Molly, Saskia’s sister.’
‘Wonderful to meet you,’ Jeremy said, before kissing Molly’s cheek.
‘And you,’ Molly said, taken aback by just how handsome Jeremy was. He was like a sculpture, all chiselled cheekbones and strong jaw.
Saskia introduced Caro and Jeremy to her dad, Scott, and Chris. Jeremy ordered another bottle of Champagne and they all squeezed around the table together.
‘Molly, I’ve missed you so much.’ Saskia said. ‘What’s it like in that house without me?’
Molly raised her eyebrow. ‘It’s tidy.’
Everyone burst out laughing, and Saskia rolled her eyes.
Molly smiled. ‘Seriously. I do miss you lots, it’s been very quiet.’
‘Oh really, I heard you’d had quite a lot going on.’ Saskia smirked at Chris, who immediately blushed. She turned to Gaspard. ‘How about you, Papa? Are you still writing your next book?’
Gaspard took a sip of his Champagne and smiled. ‘I’m always still writing my book. One day it will be finished.’ He nodded to Chris. ‘I’ve met a fan tonight though, unlike my girls who never read my work.’
Molly glared at him. ‘I read your books Papa. You know I do.’
As usual her dad’s ego was taking over the room. She flicked her eyes to Saskia, alerting her to try and stop him.
‘This is lovely, Papa,’ Saskia said, ‘but it is my night tonight, not yours. You can have your fan club night another night. Now, who is going to give me their honest review of tonight?’
After the second bottle of Champagne had disappeared, Caro and Jeremy got up.
‘We’re going to head off,’ Caro said. ‘Saskia, I’ll see you tomorrow, everyone else, so lovely to meet you.’
Saskia nodded. ‘See you tomorrow, babe.’ As they left, she stood up. ‘I hate to break up the party, but we’d better go too.’
Outside the bar, Molly directed her dad to the right Tube station for his hotel, after arranging to meet him for lunch the following day. To her left Saskia was wrapped around Scott, giggling as he whispered in her ear. To her right was Chris, bathed in the light coming from the theatre behind him.
‘How are you?’ he asked. ‘It feels like I’ve not seen you for ages.’
‘I know,’ Molly said, nodding. ‘I’m fine, I had a pretty eventful week, but all good.’
‘Did you tell him?’ he asked, his voice low.
‘About us? No. I didn’t see how that would benefit anyone. It was a one off, right?’
Her mind flashed back to him kissing her and she felt her cheeks flush.
‘Your words say one thing, but your eyes say another,’ he whispered, then kissed her cheek.
She opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by Scott and Saskia.
‘You ready, mate?’ Scott asked Chris. ‘We need to go if we’re going to make the last train back.’
Chris nodded and turned to Molly and Saskia. ‘See you guys soon,’ he said.
Saskia slid her arm through Molly’s. ‘Right then, back to my beautiful little house Molly. Off we go. Please don’t start tidying it up or moaning about the state of the place. We’re barely there.’
‘I’ll keep my mouth shut. I promise. I”m too tired to do any tidying anyway,’ Molly replied as they walked along the brightly lit street. ‘You took my breath away tonight, you know that?’
‘Oh stop,’ Saskia said, nudging Molly playfully. ‘You’ll have to squash my giant head through the door. I don’t want an ego like Papa’s.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t let you get one. I’m sure that when I get back to your filthy house, I’ll be able to bring you right back down to earth.’ Molly said, laughing.
‘I’m slightly scared,’ Saskia replied. ‘I don’t think it’s that bad, but I bet you’ll have a different opinion. At least Caro’s staying at Jeremy’s place tonight, so it’ll be quieter.’
‘You were right about them,’ Molly whispered. ‘They are full on.’
‘You try having a bedroom next to them,’ Saskia raised her eyebrow. ‘The first night he stayed over I could barely look them in the eye the next morning.’
Molly laughed and clung on to Saskia tightly all the way back to her flat.
***
‘Can you believe your girlfriend is an actual West End star?’ Chris said to Scott.
They’d just made it onto the last train home and his head was spinning from the Champagne.
‘I can”t believe she”s spent all these years doing bit parts.’ Scott shook his head. ‘She belongs on a big stage.’
‘How are you coping though?’ Chris asked, studying Scott’s face. ‘It must be hard, not being able to see her.’
‘We’re trying to make it work,’ Scott replied. ‘Right now, she needs to focus on this pantomime and our relationship has to work around it. It is hard and I’m new to the whole relationship thing, but I know what not to do.’ He laughed. ‘How about you, what happened with you and Molly?’
‘I’m confused,’ Chris said, rubbing a hand through his hair. ‘I set out tonight to prove that I can be Molly’s friend, then I overheard her saying to her dad that she’s got feelings for me. If that’s true, then why is she still with Mark?’
Scott sighed. ‘He’s been a constant figure in her life. Even though he’s a shitty boyfriend. I get it. I was the same with my dad, remember? Even though he was a complete arsehole, I didn’t want to leave him.’
‘I remember,’ Chris said. ‘I know how painful it was for you to walk away from him.’
‘But I did, didn’t I?’ Scott paused. ‘Are you trying to fix her? She’s vulnerable, just like I was. You took me in and fixed me. Are you trying to do the same with her?’
‘Scott, I didn’t fix you.’ Chris said, feeling frustrated. ‘You were in a bad situation, and I did what I could to help you out of it.’
‘Sorry.’ Scott fiddled with the zip of his jacket. ‘It’s just that your mum is a counsellor, and it comes naturally to you, helping people, I just wondered if you were trying to help Molly.’
‘No,’ Chris said firmly. ‘I’m not trying to fix her or help her. I love her.’
Scott sucked in a deep breath. ‘Oh mate, I’m happy for you, but...’ He took a deep breath before he continued. ‘You absolutely cannot be her friend. It’ll end in disaster. Does she love you? Does she know you love her?’
‘I don’t know,’ Chris said, his heart pounding as he thought about Gaspard and Molly’s conversation. ‘She’s got feelings for me, and her dad knows I feel the same way. He doesn’t miss a thing.’
‘I think I got off lightly,’ Scott said. ‘I was terrified he was going to tear me to shreds. I know where Saskia gets her ferocity from. What are you going to do about Molly?’
‘I don’t know,’ Chris said. ‘That’s the worst part. Most problems I can solve. This one I can’t.’