Chapter 11
‘SAbrINA! SAbrINA!’ AMELIA, my ten-year-old niece, flings her arms around me, and I lose my slack grip on Adam’s arm.
I’m swallowed up by my sister Gabi and her wife, Reese. Uncle Max and Aunt Carol join in and I’m kissing so many cheeks and hugging so many bodies that I lose track of who is who. And then my cousin Tommy jumps into the Fogerty huddle of arms and legs and laughs and shrieks.
‘Is he your boyfriend?’ Amelia asks, pointing to Adam standing off to the side, who is looking shocked. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and takes another step back. Any sudden movements from a Fogerty and I’m convinced he’ll throw himself into the lake and swim for freedom.
‘The photos on his website do not do him justice,’ Reese says, and they all turn as one to look at him.
A deep flush creeps along his cheeks, spreading up to his ears. Just when I think he’s about to bolt, Mum and Aunt Carol are at his side, latching on to his arms, and pulling him over to us.
‘Everyone, this is Adam. Adam, everyone.’ I wave a hand at the group and then let them each introduce themselves. ‘Wait,’ I say when I notice we’re missing my other niece and Dad. ‘Where’s Riley? And Dad?’
Gabi and Reese share a weary look. ‘Riley needed some downtime,’ Gabi says. ‘And someone sent Dad to get her.’ She looks at Mum, who is busy complimenting Tommy’s girlfriend, Natalia on her long, shiny locks.
‘You coddle her,’ Mum calls out.
‘Mum.’ Gabi’s voice is strained as she and Reese share another look.
‘If I indulged you and your sister when you were sulking we never would’ve got anything done.’ She returns to gushing over Natalia’s hair, and Gabi huffs.
Reese turns her focus back to me. ‘I thought Adam couldn’t come.’
‘He got Dianned.’
‘Ah.’ She laughs gently, tucking her silky black hair behind her ears. ‘We’ve all been there. But I’m glad he came. Everyone’s dying to meet him.’
‘Interrogate him, you mean.’ I poke Tommy’s shoulder. ‘And there’ll be none of that happening, right. You’re going to play nice.’
Tommy holds his hands up with a sly smile. ‘I always do.’
I bite back a scoff. Tommy is Gabi’s trusted lieutenant, who always took her side growing up and joins forces with her when she embarks on one of her let’s-pick-at-Sabrina’s-life-and-then-laugh-it-all-off-as-a-joke missions.
I don’t need my sister and my cousin drilling Adam and discovering that not only are we not in a relationship but that we actually can’t stand each other.
Because if that happens then the entire family will know within minutes.
Or they’ll know some version of it. We’re great at gossiping but we can get a little twisted up in the facts.
I’m still scarred from the time I told Gabi about this new contouring tip I’d seen online and how it gave my cheeks definition.
A few days later Aunt Carol called with a horror story about a friend of hers who underwent buccal fat removal and then proceeded to list all the reasons why I shouldn’t do it. She even sent pictures.
‘There she is!’ Mum exclaims as my fifteen-year-old niece, Riley, steps outside and blinks against the late afternoon sun. She’s scowling. Her blonde bob is mussed and her dark brown eyeshadow is smudged at the creases of her eyes. It’s clear she’s being forced out here against her will.
Mum pulls Riley to her and squeezes her cheeks. Riley squirms.
‘Hey, Riles, come and meet Adam.’ I steer her away and Mum charges for Natalia again, asking what brand of shampoo she uses and how she gets that shine.
‘But how many have you sold?’ Amelia bounces on her toes as she looks up at Adam. ‘Like millions?’
‘Uh…I don’t…I mean…’ he trails off and runs a hand through his hair.
I wrap an arm around Amelia and tug her to me as I introduce Riley to Adam. ‘He’s an author,’ I say.
Riley nods, unimpressed.
Mum calls us all over to the back steps of the manor. ‘We need a photo,’ she says and pulls the camera strap off Dad’s shoulder.
‘I’ll take it,’ Adam offers.
‘Don’t be silly, Adam. You need to be in the photo too.
I’ll get Betty,’ Mum says and hurries off.
My stomach sinks. Adam will be in the family photo.
He’ll be in every photo of this holiday because Mum won’t have it any other way.
Which means when we want to look back at photos of this time together, there he’ll be. Ruining our memories.
Mum returns with Betty, and they herd us into a cluster with the fairytale manor behind us. ‘Squeeze in closer,’ Mum instructs as she peers through the lens. ‘Adam, closer.’
I flinch as Adam’s arm brushes against mine.
‘Closer!’ Mum points at me and Adam and he shuffles again, moving until he’s partially behind me. Satisfied, Mum hands the camera over and falls in beside Dad. ‘Everyone, smile,’ she says.
Adam’s chest is lightly touching my back and I try to reposition myself so we’re not touching, but, with Amelia in front of me and Gabi beside me, I’m trapped. And then Amelia steps back so she can be closer to her mum and suddenly I’m pressed against Adam’s chest.
‘Smile,’ Betty calls out.
I feel him tense behind me. Maybe we can crop his face out later.
After Mum announces she needs to rest before dinner—conveniently forgetting how annoyed she’d been at Gabi and Reese for wanting naps earlier—we all scatter.
An excited Amelia drags me inside and takes me on a tour through the three sitting rooms, each with its own unique design, the two dining rooms and then up the stairs to the five bedrooms before heading up one final staircase to the attic bedroom.
That room is, according to Amelia, haunted by a Victorian ghost.
Guided tour complete, I deposit Amelia at the tennis court, hidden behind walls and hedges, where Reese and Riley are playing a game.
I wave off their pleas to join them and, not wanting to return to the cottage with Adam, I set off to explore the grounds.
Natalia is walking around with her phone raised, filming every corner she can find.
Tommy is sprinting the length of the lawn that stretches from the manor down to the gate of our cottage because he’s a fitness freak who doesn’t understand the concept of a holiday.
And Gabi, after loudly reminding everyone of her super important job and inability to be truly offline, has claimed the table in the paved courtyard at the entrance to the gardens, her laptop open and papers spread around her.
Between Tommy and Gabi, I’m often left scratching my head and wondering if perhaps I’m adopted.
But then I look at Gabi and see how closely we physically resemble one another with our auburn hair, brown eyes and slightly upturned noses, and I resign myself to being the black sheep of the family.
It’s a title I’ve spent years pretending doesn’t get to me.
Sidestepping my ambitious sister and driven cousin, I veer into the gardens, passing Dad and Uncle Max, who are crouched over a shrub of pale pink flowers as Dad explains the merits of well-drained soil and Max nods along.
I wander past a long, narrow water feature where ripples spread from the fountain at its centre.
Then I follow the path to the back of the property, down a grassy hill to the jetty.
I stop short when I spot Adam already there, scribbling in a notebook.
He looks up, shielding his eyes against the low sun. I’m torn between running back up the hill and committing to the jetty. I don’t want him to think I’ve been caught watching him so I continue down the jetty. I step onto its creaking wooden boards.
‘I thought you’d be working in the cottage,’ I say and sit down, kicking my shoes off. I drop my feet over the edge and bite back a yelp as the cold water hits my toes. There goes any thought of jumping in for a leisurely swim at some point.
‘Carol mentioned dropping in for a chat and I, well…’ he trails off with a shrug.
‘You’re hiding.’
‘I figured I’d get more work done if she didn’t know where I was.’
I kick my feet in the water, hoping to acclimatise to the temperature. ‘If you didn’t want to be disturbed by my family maybe you should’ve stayed home.’
He looks at his notebook and his mouth tugs to one side. ‘Home is the last place I need to be,’ he says so quietly that I almost don’t hear it. His face gives nothing away, like he’s learnt how to keep his features in an expressionless state.
‘Why?’ I ask.
His grip on the pen tightens and he says nothing.
Okay, we’re clearly not at the sharing stage of whatever this is. My legs swing back and forth as I try to fill the silence with splashes.
‘You’re cold.’ He jerks his chin towards my goosebumpcovered arms.
No shit, Sherlock.
He plays with the sleeve of his grey jumper just to rub it in how warm and toasty he is while I stupidly dangle my legs in a cold lake because we escaped cold temperatures at home and I’m determined to embrace summer here.
‘Do you want—’ he starts.
My phone beeps and his voice fades away.
It’s a message from Hattie.
Hattie: Felicity has settled in nicely and is sticking to the recipes you left her. As promised, I’ve emailed you today’s numbers. No real uptick but no decline either. Have fun, I miss you xx
I pull my feet from the water and get up, desperate to go back to the cottage and check the numbers. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ I say.
Adam grimaces and stares at the notebook, his scrawl a mess of blue ink across the page.
‘Are you really struggling with your novel? Or was that just an excuse to come along on this holiday?’ Although I can’t think why he’d want to be here with a whole bunch of people he doesn’t know. I nod at the page of scrawl. ‘That doesn’t look like you’re struggling.’
He snaps the notebook shut and glances up at me, his mouth a tight line. ‘Looks can be deceiving.’
I narrow my eyes at him. Looks are only deceiving when someone wants them to be.