Chapter 13 Jules “The Way It Is”
Jules
“The Way It Is”
I can’t shake my filthy mood, so I’m cleaning the house, angrily vacuuming the stairs. Even though my meal last night for Darius was a triumph, Adam’s reaction when I came back took all the glory out of it and, after our row, I felt so deflated that I barely slept.
He’d gone to work by the time I woke up this morning and he hasn’t called or texted. I don’t know what time he’ll be home, but it looks like I’ve got all day to fester. I finish the stairs and head to the bathroom and start spritzing the mirrors, seeing my angry scowl.
It’s not just Adam being a prick that’s riled me. I’m jangled about what happened with Darius. The more I think about it, the more I can’t help wondering, was our near kiss his fault or mine? Not that anything really happened, did it?
And if that wasn’t enough to give me a guilty stress headache, Liam’s weighing heavily on my mind too.
Is there ever a universe where you stop worrying about your kids?
Or feeling that you’ve failed them? I always thought it was a cliché, but it turns out that the saying is true: You’re only ever as happy as your unhappiest child.
And something’s off with Liam. I know it is.
Taking a break, I scroll through his Instagram feed again. He hasn’t posted for over a week, which is unlike him. Grass Stain has hundreds of thousands of followers and they’re always hungry for snaps, or teaser videos of what they’re recording, or candid shots behind the scenes backstage.
It’s pathetic to cling on to these posts like a lovestruck groupie, I know, but they’re all I get these days, especially since Liam’s been in Japan.
When he first went away on tour, across Europe and then Asia, we had a rule that he’d call at least twice a week, then it was once on a Sunday, but even that’s dwindled, and I haven’t actually heard his voice for nearly a month.
I know he’s busy. I know there’s a million demands on his time, but it still hurts.
I bite my lip, debating whether or not to call Saori, Max’s mum. I don’t want to appear needy or uncool, but maybe she knows why there’s been radio silence. I press her number. She’s at the hair salon where she works, and I can hardly hear over the music and dryers as she answers.
“I just wondered…have you heard from Max?” I ask. “They haven’t posted online for a while.”
There’s a pause at the other end. “I didn’t want to say anything,” she says, “but there’s been some issues.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Issues?”
“I think everything’s fine now,” she says.
“Just…band stuff, you know. Playing too hard. There’s nothing to worry about,” she adds, in a way that makes me think there really is something to worry about and leaves me wanting to speak to Liam even more.
“Sorry, Jules, I’ve really got to go, but let’s catch up properly soon. ”
“Jules?” I hear Adam calling from downstairs. “You up there?”
I stand and lean on the edge of the bathroom sink to give myself strength.
“Jules?” he calls again, this time more urgently.
“In here,” I call sharply. If he wants to talk to me, he can bloody well come up here and apologize first.
“Come down,” he calls.
“What is it?” I shout back.
“Just come. Please,” he insists, and I slump away from the mirror, annoyed.
As I walk out onto the landing, he grins at me from the bottom of the stairs. We’ve got so much to sort out, but he seems to have forgotten that we’re not speaking.
“I’ve got something to show you.” He nods to the front door.
Annoyed that he’s being so cryptic, I thump down the stairs.
“What?”
“It’s a surprise.”
He sounds overly excited, especially when he knows I hate surprises. He stands behind me and tries to cover my eyes with his hands.
“Can you just not…?” I say, elbowing him, irritated that his hands are now cupped around my face.
With difficulty, still covering my eyes ineffectually, he hooks his foot around the front door, and I see him lever it open. Then he whips his hands away.
“Ta-da!”
There’s a red convertible on the drive, gleaming in the sunshine, as if it’s magically popped up out of nowhere, like one of those effects on a lottery advert. A Triumph Spitfire, no less.
“You can take it for a spin if you like. The dealer assured me the ignition works perfectly,” he says, tossing me the keys.
“You bought a car?”
“Not a car. The car. The one you always wanted.”
“But how can we afford it? You always said—”
“I found a way.” He rubs his hands together.
How? It’s impossible. Really impossible. I know the state of our bank accounts. Unless…
Oh no. He can’t have. He can’t have been time traveling behind my back, can he? To get cash. Just like I did behind his.
He wouldn’t? Would he?
I nearly ask him. Then it occurs to me that asking him might make him suspect that I’ve already done the same.
“Uh-huh.” I’m not convinced.
“Look, I know I was an arse last night.”
In all the muttering arguments I’ve had in my head with him since I got up this morning, this is not how I expected this was going to play.
“I’m sorry. Seriously. I should have been supporting you better.
Because you’ve always supported me, haven’t you?
Like when I found out about all of Dad’s debts.
And when I tried to get that business going with Darius.
Stuff I’ve never said thank you for. And I know you’re a brilliant chef, Jules, and I know how bad things were after lockdown.
Your whole pop-up thing, I should have got behind it, right from the start. ”
I feel unexpected tears springing to my eyes. I hadn’t prepared myself for an apology from him, let alone an acknowledgment of how I’ve helped him, or my talents—even if they’re not strictly, actually, mine.
“I totally get why you’d accept Darius’s help, especially if we couldn’t afford it, but I happened to hear this news piece on the radio a while back, about how much old toys are worth these days.”
I shake my head, baffled. What’s he on about?
“Star Wars figures especially. Then I remembered all those ones Dad had given me that I’d totally forgotten about…”
Didn’t he used to keep them in the living room dresser? I haven’t seen them for years.
“I remembered how I’d hidden them, right after we got Groucho, in case he chewed them up. Then last night I couldn’t sleep after we rowed, so I went online. I always expected them to be worth a bit, but…” He grins. “You have no idea.”
Clapping his hands with glee, he starts babbling on about contacting a dealer up in London first thing this morning and then sacking off work and jumping on the next train, and how the guy practically bit his hand off when he saw what he’d got.
“Enough for a car?” I ask.
“Yup and more left over. Enough to get your pop-up started too. Well, initially, at least. We’ll have to get investors, but we can get going on planning it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” His eyes are shining. “Seriously. We’ll do it together.”
I can’t believe Darius has annoyed him enough to make him pull his finger out. I’ve always wanted it to be something we do together, only he’s always been too busy, or risk-averse. Until now.
He steps toward me, putting his arms around me, and I don’t resist.
“I mean it,” he says. He looks at me with his kind Adam eyes that I know so well—but can’t remember staring back into for too long.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say yes.”
“Yes,” I say, hugging him back. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Oh, but there is one more thing…” he says, as I finally pull back.
Oh no. Here it comes. The catch.
He grins again, his eyes twinkling. “I need you to pack an overnight bag.”
—
I’ll admit that I was shocked by Adam splashing out on this car, but bloody hell, it feels amazing to drive through the lanes to the countryside manor house hotel that he’s booked us into. Nelly is all for the plan and is looking after Groucho Barx tonight.
We’re alone on a winding, dappled road, under a canopy of trees, when Adam’s phone screen flickers into life on the dash—his ringtone the guitar riff off Grass Stain’s first single. My heart skips.
“It’s him,” I squeal, hitting the brakes and hastily pulling over into a passing spot.
“Mate,” he says, answering the phone to Liam and switching it onto speaker. “How’s tricks?”
“Yeah…okay.” Liam sounds tinny—a long way away, but it’s not just that. His voice is slurry. I pull a face at Adam.
“It’s late there, right?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Liam says, but again too vaguely for my liking.
I picture him. How hard he can push himself, how exhausted he can get. My heart aches with longing.
“I’m here too, darling,” I burst in. “How are you? We haven’t heard from you for ages. We were getting worried.”
Adam shoots me a look, like why would we be worried when his little boy’s out there living his best life.
“You’ve been busy, right? Got any new songs?” Adam says, all pally.
I frown at him. Why’s he turning the conversation round to music, when I need actual facts?
About where Liam is, who he’s with, how he’s feeling.
Why hasn’t he even given it a second thought that Liam’s recent lack of communication might be an indication that something might be up?
Only that’s Adam all over, isn’t it? So proud of his son that he just wants to be best buddies with him, when he should be being a parent.
“I’m sending you a new one,” Liam says. “It’s kind of about you…”
Adam pulls his eek face.
“It’s nice…or nice-ish. And about Mum too.”
“Amazing. Can’t wait,” Adam says, beaming.
“How are you?” I butt in, trying to get the conversation back on track. “What’s it like there? Are you eating okay? Getting enough sleep?
“Jules. One question at a time,” Adam chides, like I’m being hysterical, and I punch him on the arm.
“I’ve been…it’s been a tough few weeks,” Liam says after a pause, sending my mind springing back to Saori and the mysterious “issues.”
“You can come home any time you want,” I blurt even though he’s in the middle of a tour and I know it’s impossible.