Chapter 10 #2
Kate had never seen him like this before. He seemed dangerously on edge, pacing agitatedly around the room like a caged tiger. In this mood, it was easy to see how Tina had come a cropper by saying the wrong thing.
‘Um, can I get you anything?’ Kate asked nervously. God, that sounded so trite – especially with Tina’s tea-and-sympathy jibe ringing in her ears.
‘No, thanks.’ Will shook his head. He seemed hardly to notice her presence now and she wondered if she should go. But she didn’t want to leave him in this state.
‘When’s the funeral?’ she asked softly.
Will stopped pacing and looked at her, stunned. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘Haven’t you spoken to Antonia?’
‘I couldn’t – I couldn’t call her,’ he said abjectly. ‘I’m probably the last person she wants to hear from right now.’
Kate felt hopelessly inadequate in the face of his despair.
‘She may not even want me at the funeral,’ he continued.
‘Of course she’ll want you there.’
‘I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.’ Will resumed pacing.
‘Have you spoken to Mum?’
‘I haven’t spoken to anyone except Tina. And look how that worked out,’ he said, gesturing at the smashed vase.
Suddenly all the fight seemed to go out of him and he sank down onto the bed. ‘I shouldn’t have taken it out on Tina,’ he said dully, rubbing his forehead. ‘She only said what everyone must be thinking.’
‘No,’ Kate whispered emphatically. ‘We don’t all think that.’ Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see him so distraught.
Will saw the tears glinting in Kate’s eyes, and something in him snapped.
Until now anger had kept him going – anger with the journalists, anger with Tina, anger with himself – even anger with his father for pulling the rug out from under him one last time.
But in the face of Kate’s sympathy, he broke down.
‘I thought…’ he drew a ragged breath. ‘…I thought there was time! I thought I had time to be pissed off with him. It wasn’t meant to be for ever,’ he cried.
‘I know, I know,’ Kate soothed, forgetting about herself in her concern for Will. She rushed over to sit beside him on the bed and put an arm around his shaking shoulders.
‘And now it’s too late,’ he sobbed brokenly. ‘He’s dead and he never knew—’ He wiped away tears roughly with the back of his hand. ‘He died thinking I hated him,’ he said bleakly.
‘Oh God, don’t.’ Kate pulled him closer. ‘He didn’t think you hated him,’ she said, holding him tight as he turned into her arms. He was crying in earnest now, great shuddering sobs, and she felt the wet of his tears as he buried his head in her neck.
‘How could I have been so stupid?’ he railed. ‘All those times I refused to talk to him and wouldn’t see him. Now I’d give anything if I could just see him one more time.’
‘I know.’ Kate stroked his hair as he clung to her. His hot breath on her neck sent little ripples of pleasure through her, which was inappropriate, to say the least. She was supposed to be comforting Will, not taking advantage of the situation to get a pervy thrill.
‘I’m sure he knew you loved him,’ she said.
‘How could he?’ he said, lifting his head to look at her, blinking away tears from his eyes.
Kate’s eyes welled. ‘Mum always knew you loved him, didn’t she?’ she reasoned. ‘Even I knew that. He was your father, Will. If we knew, he must have known.’
‘Do you really think so?’ he asked hopefully, like a child seeking reassurance.
‘Absolutely.’ Kate nodded. ‘Besides,’ she added, smiling wryly as a thought occurred to her, ‘I’m sure Mum will have told him.’
Will’s expression brightened. ‘She would, wouldn’t she?’ He sniffed.
‘Only every time she spoke to him, I imagine.’ She was glad she’d somehow hit on the right thing to say. She brushed his hair off his forehead and wiped away a stray tear that rolled down his cheek.
Will mirrored the action, tracing a tear down her cheek with his thumb, his eyes following its course until it reached her mouth. She tasted the salt before Will brushed it away. His gaze lingered on her lips, his thumb tracing their outline. Kate tried not to squirm with pleasure.
Suddenly their eyes met. Kate knew he was going to kiss her, and then his hands pushed into her hair pulling her face towards his, and she felt his lips on hers, tasting the salt of their mingled tears as he kissed her, tentatively at first, then more urgently.
His hand stroked the side of her face coaxingly, urging her lips to stay locked to his.
Kate didn’t need any coaxing. She kissed him back enthusiastically, her fingers stroking the short hair at the nape of his neck.
Will broke the kiss and pulled back a little, his eyes on hers.
Kate whimpered, leaning into him, and he pulled her into his arms, his mouth opening hungrily over hers.
Kate shivered with excitement as she felt his tongue in her mouth, her fingers tensing on his broad shoulders.
The world melted away until nothing existed but Will’s mouth, the clean, citrus smell of his skin, the taste of him, the pounding of his heart against her chest.
A soft knock on the door made them jump, and they sprang apart.
Will stood up. ‘Come in,’ he called hoarsely.
Kate got up as the door opened, hoping she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. She was amazed when Louise came in.
‘Hi, Kate.’ She smiled. ‘Will, I came as soon as I could,’ she said, rushing across the room and throwing her arms around him. ‘I’m so sorry about your dad.’
‘Thanks.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘And thanks for coming.’
‘We were so worried about you,’ she said. ‘We were trying to contact you all day and no one could reach you. Grace was frantic – calling me every five minutes to see if I’d managed to get hold of you. When no one could find you, we were afraid… Well, we didn’t know if you’d heard the news or not.’
‘Sorry – I forgot to turn my mobile on when I got off the plane. I hadn’t heard the news – not until I got back here.’
‘So Tina told you?’ Louise said, sounding relieved.
‘No, it was some, um’ – Will gulped – ‘some bloke outside.’ He waved in the general direction of the drive. ‘A reporter,’ he said tightly. ‘I didn’t get his name.’
‘A reporter!’ Louise gasped. ‘Christ, I’m so sorry, Will.’
This was the first Kate had heard of that, and her heart went out to him. No wonder he had been so wired and had lashed out at Tina. She longed to put her arms around him again. Her eyes met the yearning in his own.
‘Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ Kate said awkwardly. ‘You’re sure there’s nothing I can get you?’
* * *
Kate was in the kitchen when Louise came downstairs, a set of car keys in one hand and her ever-present mobile phone in the other. ‘I’m going to take this lot to the concert,’ she told Kate, jerking a thumb towards the living room.
‘I can’t believe Tina’s still going,’ Kate said.
‘I know. Still,’ Louise sighed, ‘it’s probably as well to get her out of Will’s way. I’d happily tell her to get stuffed, only I think he wants her and her posse off the premises.’
‘I suppose you’re right. She’s not exactly helping things.’
‘No, she’s made things a whole lot worse. It’s her bloody fault all these reporters are crawling around here in the first place.’
‘I didn’t notice anyone around when I got back.’ Kate frowned.
‘No, apparently they cut their losses and followed the guys to the concert when there was nothing doing here.’
‘Poor Will. I wish he hadn’t heard it that way.’
‘He’s in a terrible state.’ Louise said. ‘I got him to ring your mum – he’s talking to her now. I think that’ll help.’
‘Good. Everyone’s being so unsympathetic.
I’m surprised they buggered off to the concert,’ she said, somewhat accusingly.
‘All except Rory, but he’s just sitting out there.
’ She pointed to the terrace where Rory still sat, his leg jumping to the beat of whatever was playing in his earphones.
‘Nobody was with Will when I came home.’
Louise looked out at him. ‘They just don’t get it,’ she said sadly. ‘You mustn’t blame them.’
Louise knew Rory cared about Will – they all did – but none of them would understand what he was going through.
Leery of fathers as a species, Louise knew that Will carrying on a feud with his was one of the things that had endeared the band members to him in the first place.
It was about the only thing they had in common.
But Will’s feelings about his father were complicated, whereas theirs were brutally simple.
Rory and Owen’s father had disappeared when they were children, hadn’t been seen since, and that was the way they liked it.
They were primed and ready to beat him to a pulp if he should ever raise his head above the parapet.
Phoenix and Georgie hadn’t been so lucky.
Their fame and wealth had brought their abusive father crawling out of the woodwork and he had taken to turning up at their hotels and trying to see them.
A lump-sum payment and a restraining order had kept him at a safe distance so far – along with enthusiastic threats of violence from the Cassidy brothers.
His death would signify nothing more than the assurance that he would never darken their door again.
‘Do you know yet when the funeral is?’ Kate asked.
Louise nodded. ‘It’s on Monday, but Will’s flying back to England tomorrow. I’ll be staying here to take care of things while he’s gone.’
‘Isn’t anyone going to the funeral with him?’
‘Oh, I expect Madam will rouse herself for that – there might be photographers,’ Louise said drily. ‘Your mum’ll be there, of course,’ she added, more brightly, ‘and Lorcan’s flying over from New York.’
Kate noticed how drained Louise looked. She had obviously had a wearing day, with all the worry over Will, then a last-minute flight.
‘Are you coming back when you’ve dropped them at the gig?’ she asked. ‘Do you want me to make you something to eat later?’