Chapter 39
Rosie shifted in the seat next to me, her hand still grasped firmly in mine. I stared at our interlocked fingers, barely able to believe that this was real. She was mine. She loved me. She’d said those words with such conviction, they’d branded themselves on my soul.
She offered me a soft smile, listening to my dad, who was sitting up in the hospital bed, tell her another story about when I was a child.
He took great delight in giving her every exaggerated detail.
‘That’s not true,' I argued, when the truth had been pushed to the limit.
‘I beg your pardon. I was the one that had to fish your brother out of the washing machine.’ Dad wheezed out a rough laugh. Eyes sparkling.
Rosie poked me in the ribs. Her smile seemed to be a permanent fixture. ‘You mean you didn’t try and put Oliver on a spin cycle?’
Grabbing hold of her hand, I turned it over and pressed a kiss to her palm. Her eyes flashed with heat. ‘No,’ I said, lips curling into a smile. ‘It was the tumble dryer.’
Her face collapsed into a laugh. ‘Don’t think that’s any better, George.’
I was about to launch into my six-year-old reasoning of why I attempted to put my little brother in the tumble dryer, when the door opened and Fallon and Oliver entered. Both wearing matching expressions of seriousness.
I felt Rosie stiffen beside me. Fallon flashed her a small smile before she walked over to Dad and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
‘Got you several versions of the paper.’ She held up an armful of them. ‘Unfortunately, I couldn’t find one without his face in it.’ She pointed her thumb at Oliver, who leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest.
‘And you never will. The camera loves me, Pooh.’ His face flashed with a warm smile before his expression hardened once more.
Dad patted Fallon on the arm. ‘Thank you, love, that’s very kind.’
She squeezed his hand gently, placing the stack of papers on his bedside table before moving back to stand next to Oliver. The energy in the room had shifted the second they walked in. And the pair of them were looking more serious than I’d seen them in a long time.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ I asked, when the silence in the room got suffocating. Broken only by the steady beat of dad’s heart rate monitor. ‘You both look weird.’
Rosie leaned forward and, from a quick glance at her expression, she was as confused as me.
Oliver took a deep breath and reached into his jacket pocket. Fallon gave his shoulder a squeeze. He pulled out a piece of paper and crossed the room, coming to a stop right in front of me, holding out the white slip.
‘I don’t want to hear it,’ he said firmly. What the hell was he on about?
Reluctantly, I let go of Rosie’s hand to take the folded paper.
The second I opened it, I shot to my feet, slamming it back into my brother's hands. He dodged, lifting his hands in the air, refusing to take it back.
‘Absolutely not,’ I said, pushing the paper against his chest. ‘I’m not fucking taking it.’
‘You are. I’m not arguing with you.’ Oliver pushed my hand off his chest, letting the paper fall to the ground. It wasn’t there long. Rosie got out of her chair and crouched down between us to pick it up.
‘Holy shit,’ she said, getting to her feet and staring at the cheque that had so many zeros behind it, it made me nauseous.
‘No. It’s not happening.’ I plucked the cheque from her fingers, about to rip it clean in two. A hard fist collided with my shoulder, shunting me back a step. Oliver got right up in my face.
‘I don’t know what kind of fucked up self-deprecating bullshit is in your head that stopped you from coming to me for help, but if need be I will pummel it out of you.’ Rosie read the determination in my brother's face and plucked the cheque from my fingers, scurrying over to where Fallon stood.
‘I can fix my own mistakes,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘And this is you doing that. I’m not doing shit.
Writing a cheque for money that is sitting in my account doing fuck all is nothing.
’ He clutched my shoulder. ‘Keeping mum’s dream alive isn’t only on your shoulders.
If you tear that up, I’ll just write another.
And if you keep tearing them up, I’ll get it out in cash and build a fort in your office so you have no choice but to take it.
’ A dangerous glint of challenge entered my brother's eyes.
I let out a watery laugh. ‘You got a back-up plan.’
‘One of many. So don’t be a stubborn twat and let me fucking do this for you.’ After a pause, he added, ‘For Mum.’
My head fell between my shoulders. I ran a hand down my face, feeling the sharp edges of guilt poke at me.
It was too easy. Taking his money would undoubtedly fix everything.
It would give me the break I needed. The ability to hire more people, and maybe get a brand new sign.
It would fix it all, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to be the sole bearer of this burden. The responsibility was mine.
‘She would have been so proud of both of you,’ Dad muttered from the bed, staring on with tears in his eyes. ‘I’m so proud of you both.’ That put the final nail in the coffin of my refusal.
‘Fuck you,’ I breathed before tugging Oliver by the back of his neck. We wrapped our arms around each other and hugged. ‘I’ll pay you back.’
Oliver pulled away, slapping me on the back of my head. ‘You do that, I take a leaf out of Rosie’s book and set her mother on you.’
‘She’d happily be used in a revenge plot,’ Rosie called. I looked over and saw her next to Fallon, arms wrapped around her best friend's middle, head resting on her shoulder.
The sight of her standing there, a twinkle in her eye as she looked at me, nearly choked the life out of me. She was mine. She was right here, and she was mine.
And I was unequivocally hers. Forever.
Fallon cleared her throat, tapping Rosie on the arm. ‘Speaking of bets.’
Rosie’s eyes widened, the flash of fear crossing her face. She stood upright, eyeing the room nervously. ‘We weren’t.’
Oliver chuckled under his breath.
‘We are now.’ A wicked glint sparked in Fallon’s eyes. ‘I believe someone owes me a tattoo.’
Rosie flinched. She pulled away from her best friend like she’d been electrocuted.
‘You won’t hold me to that, though. Right? Because you love me,’ she said, her tone turned pleading, and fuck me, she was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
Fallon laughed, pink hair falling effortlessly around her shoulders. ‘I do love you dearly. But you bet your arse I am collecting on this bet.’
‘What if I refuse?’
‘Would you have made me get up in front of a room full of strangers and sing karaoke?’
‘No. Of course not. I’m a delightful person, and not at all vindictive.’
‘Really?’ Fallon’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘You wouldn’t have taken great joy in seeing me nearly wet myself in public?’
Rosie’s lips pinched. ‘Fine. I might have enjoyed it. But only a little bit.’
Fallon threw her hands up. ‘I rest my case. A tattoo of a tortoise on your neck it is.’
Rosie’s panicked gaze found mine. Not able to stand to have her so far away, I slipped around my brother and held out my hand. In an instant, she folded herself into my body. Face burrowed into my chest, she wrapped her arms around my waist.
‘Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be right beside you the whole time.’ I stroked a hand down her back.
‘Promise?’ She peeked up at me. I lifted my pinky, holding it out to her.
She wrapped her delicate little finger around it, squeezing. ‘Promise,' I vowed.