Chapter 19
Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief as the last of her surprise guests began to leave.
It had been an unexpectedly uplifting morning, other than the general chaos and having to field interference in everything from her fridge contents to her clean undies.
But now, she needed to hide in a cupboard and eat leftover cookies. She deserved it.
‘We should go to the quinoa bar!’ her mother piped up as Alyssa was handing over her Burberry trench coat. She’d apparently splurged on it after seeing Alyssa wearing one on Instagram. Alyssa didn’t like to say she’d grabbed hers for twenty quid on Vinted.
‘Hmm,’ said Alyssa noncommittally, her stomach clenching at the thought of hanging out with Pearl, consuming quinoa. And at a bar? What were they doing, turning it into mojitos? ‘We’ll do that soon.’ Or not.
‘Let’s go now.’ Her mum gripped her arm, her eyes wide with something that looked like hope. ‘We still haven’t caught up properly, just you and me.’
‘Erm.’ It didn’t feel good to worm her way out of it, and maybe they should make peace. She couldn’t unsee the image of her mum getting jiggy with Dominic, or unhear the lies that came before it to cover up her parents’ affairs. And quinoa? ‘I’m tired. Maybe another time.’
‘Tired? Nonsense! You’re always up to energetic things on social media. It’s so impressive.’
Pearl was squeezing her arm now, like she was proud of her. Her mum had always been too busy to care when she’d been boring Beryl.
‘I’ll tell you all about what that dishy Devan has been up to, since you left. Not that I’m one to gossip.’
Dishy. Alyssa rolled her eyes. Though maybe she should get the lowdown, in the interests of not being duped.
‘And we must talk about Teijo. He keeps asking me and your father about whether we have a connection to you, and some sort of exclusive?’ Pearl giggled. ‘You’ll have to give me media training on what I’m allowed to say!’
Damage limitation. Alyssa sighed and grabbed her umbrella and coat.
‘They do this wonderfully cleansing matcha and lychee tea,’ said Pearl, as she hustled Alyssa along the rain-damp main street of Taybury – their nearest big town.
There was no way you could get matcha anything in Hartglove.
Thank God. Maybe there was something to be said for the simple quaintness of Apple Blossom Lane.
Though at least Taybury’s central shopping street wasn’t full of trees that tried to poke you.
‘I’m not really into …’
‘I saw you raving about the wonders of matcha on Instagram. Who knew it had so many protective polyphenols?’
Who knew indeed. Alyssa tried not to feel guilty that she never drank the stuff, because it tasted like something a cow would spit out. Though at least her healthy living images were doing other people a service.
Her soul drooped as her mum pulled her past the inviting smells of pizza places she’d much rather indulge in.
All that delicious, melty cheese. The pure joy of a carb fest. Would it be so bad to steer her mum towards Pepperoni Franco’s?
But that wasn’t the version of herself that impressed her mother. Or anyone.
It didn’t take long to shake off their umbrellas and settle themselves into The Keen on Quinoa Bar, where disappointingly, cocktails were not a thing – because right then, she could do with one. It was no more than a fancy café.
‘I ordered us chocolate quinoa cake,’ said Pearl, looking pleased with herself.
The teenager inside Alyssa was daring her to say ‘urgh, gross’ and ‘are you still shagging that bloke from the golf club?’ But she opted to wear her adult pants and stay open-minded.
So many things had not been as she’d expected since she’d returned.
Perhaps a miracle would happen, and her mother would turn out to be one of them.
While they sipped their smoothies and waited for the dubious cake, Alyssa instructed her mum not to tell Teijo or anyone else who she was or anything about her past in Hartglove.
Their early press release had kept journalists off the scent, but Teijo was closer to the action and a touch too curious.
‘What are you ashamed of?’ Pearl asked, looking a little sad.
It was possible that something inside Alyssa panged slightly. Or it might have been smoothie brain freeze.
‘My past is not for sale, that’s all. It’s just … embarrassing.’
Her mother had the good grace to blush. Maybe Devan had caused the first wound, but like any dumped teenager, she could have festered at home and got over it, even if she would have needed a new circle of friends.
But rushing home to find out her parents’ marriage and their entire ‘happy homelife’ was a sham had been too much to bear.
Not to mention her ruined memories of the family sofa.
‘We’re so sorry about our extramarital thingamajigs, love,’ her mother said quietly. ‘And that very discombobulating scene in the front room. You were never meant to see that. Goodness knows, I’d have been mortified if I’d ever caught your gran doing the naked mambo.’
‘Wow.’ Alyssa baulked. ‘Thank you for adding that mental image to my back catalogue.’
‘It all feels like a lifetime ago now. Your dad and I both used to enjoy a bit of shopping around. But as we got older, we realised the plums are always juiciest at home. And now look at us, doing this love app challenge, just like you! Perhaps we’ll all fall in love again, together.’
Juicy plums? Alyssa pushed her drink away, suddenly queasy.
She would not be falling in love with anyone.
Love was a fantasy. A whimsical idea milked by film-makers and jewellery shops.
And, in fact, by herself as a love coach – when she had any actual clients.
Love was a fruitful business. But like Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, there was no tangible evidence it existed.
And she had plenty of evidence that her parents were massive liars – so who could tell what the truth was with them?
Pearl reached over and touched Alyssa’s hand. ‘Are you OK? You look a bit pale.’
‘I’m fine. Thank you.’
It was her staple answer to most things. The words you said to be polite, because the truth was inconvenient. If she started unpacking it here, it would probably put Pearl off her quinoa cake. And nobody wanted that.
‘I know I haven’t had chance to say it in a non-whispery way, but I am proud of you,’ said Pearl, squeezing her daughter’s hand. ‘You’re doing so well for yourself as Alyssa Heart.’
Compared to Beryl, who clearly nobody had chosen first. Or was Pearl lying now too?
‘Your dad’s proud of you as well, you know. He’s just a bit rusty on how to show it. And he doesn’t understand what being a love coach is all about. He’d always wanted you to get a job in banking. He’s learning.’
Alyssa tried not to scoff. Percival Bagnor had probably done more bonking than banking, and why was it he could appreciate Devan’s love app, but not her work?
‘And before you ask, he takes his role seriously these days. Absolutely no staffroom hanky-panky.’
‘Right,’ said Alyssa.
‘Perhaps you could have a lovely heart-to-heart with him too? Go for a nice pie in The Rat and Raspberry. Heal some old wounds?’
Alyssa had had even less contact with her dad than her mum since she’d left Hartglove. He wasn’t much of a phone chatter and had never bothered her to do awkward brunch in London like her mum sometimes had.
‘I’m not into pie,’ Alyssa lied.
‘No, of course.’ Pearl flapped a hand. ‘But they do a good side salad.’
Side salad. She had more or less been her dad’s dull side salad, while he went off in search of tasty meat. He’d always been too busy ‘working’ to spend much quality time with her when she’d been growing up. She now knew his version of work wasn’t quite so wholesome as hers.
‘I’m busy,’ Alyssa replied more firmly, enjoying the sense of satisfaction it gave her.
Her mum pursed her lips but seemed to take the hint.
After a halt in conversation, their chocolate quinoa cake arrived. With a bit of prodding and a wary taste test, Alyssa was amazed to find she didn’t dislike it.
‘So, you must be wondering about Devan. You, him and Sylvie used to be such good friends when you were younger. Why do you never ask about them?’
Well, that was enough to put anyone off their cake.
‘It’s not my concern.’ Alyssa didn’t like the fact Devan was presumably still married, though with all the media coverage, Sylvie must be in the know. The love task stunts were just promo for his app and a boost for the town. Just business, as they’d both called it. And yet …
‘He’s not married anymore, of course. He and Sylvie split up years ago.’
Did they? Alyssa couldn’t stop her ears from twitching.
She wanted to know more, yet she felt compelled to keep a poker face.
How embarrassing that she even cared what had happened between them.
It was years ago. She was the bigger, completely un-nosy person.
She made a show of inspecting her sparkly nails as though they were far more intriguing.
‘They still lived in the same big house, until recent months,’ her mother went on.
‘Though they were being platonic.’ She said the word as though it was something that had been invented by three-headed Martians.
‘There have always been lots of rumours about what went on behind closed doors, but he always does the right thing, does Devan. He stayed in the family home until Emmalina was settled at senior school. Very respectable.’
Rumours. Respectable? Alyssa nearly choked on her super berry smoothie. ‘Always does the right thing?’ she heard herself saying. Like shagging the tits off Sylvie, when he’d meant to be dating her? Though she wasn’t going to say that out loud.
‘Oh yes, he’s known for it,’ Pearl ploughed on, seemingly unaware her daughter was quietly seething. ‘Good Old Devan, they always call him. I think it suits him.’