THE FOLLOWING DAY, once again aboard the private plane, Liam surveyed Ava. As always she looked perfect, the outfit smart casual, dark blue jeans, tucked-in collared shirt topped by a pretty grey jumper with a floral edging, perfect for a meet the parent for the first time scenario. Her nails were a discreet neutral colour; her hair, freshly washed, cascaded in blonde waves past her shoulders and wafted an evocative floral scent across the table. Light make-up showed that she’d made an effort but without being over the top.
She frowned. ‘Do I look OK? Should I have gone for something more businesslike?’
‘You look fine. It’s perfect for the occasion.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
He could see her nervousness though, the slight pallor of her skin and the amber flecks of wariness in her eyes. ‘It’ll be OK.’ What else could he say?
‘I hope so. I just know that this is going to be awkward.’
He hesitated, knew he was putting Ava in an unconscionable position. A few days ago it hadn’t bothered him. Now scant hours away from bringing the two women together he felt...bad.
‘You told me a bit about your mum. What about John and Max? What are they like?’
Edginess shifted inside him. ‘Max likes rollerblading, he goes to school. He is a typical teenage boy, I guess. John works hard, he’s quiet... I don’t really know him that well. I was twenty when they got married. I...’ The wedding was etched on his soul. When he’d seen the way John and Bea looked at each other, the love and joy in their eyes, their stance, their everything, seen Max wrap his arms round Bea’s waist in a hug, Liam had realised with an intense visceral knowledge exactly what he’d cost his mother. That was when he’d vowed to stay clear, keep his distance, make up for what he had done. ‘We’re not really that close.’ He tried for a smile, wanted to take the worry from Ava’s eyes, rebury his own memories. ‘It’ll be OK. We go in, chat, leave. Look at it this way—if we can convince them, it will all be a breeze from there.’
‘It feels like a pretty big if.’
‘Hey, what’s the worst that can happen?’
‘I’ve considered that. How about this? Your mum sees through us in less than a minute... Your mum hates me because of my dad. Either way she throws me out.’
‘Nah. Won’t happen. My worst-case scenario is we succumb to the stress of it all and run around my mum’s lounge clucking like chickens saying, “It’s all a lie”.’
The absurdity of the image caused her to give an involuntary chuckle. ‘Speak for yourself. I guarantee I won’t do that.’
A few hours later they pulled up outside a small well-maintained terraced house on the outskirts of London. Ava took in the bright red door, the clean paint on the walls, the small front garden replete with carefully tended flowers and shrubs. The elegant slatted blinds in the windows. ‘It’s lovely,’ Ava said, though a part of her had expected Liam’s mum to live in a larger house, had thought Liam would have given her a mansion.
As if reading her thoughts, Liam shrugged. ‘It is. Though I did offer to buy Mum something bigger but she and John refused. Prefer to make their own way.’ Impossible to be sure but she thought there was a hint of hurt in his tone.
Before she could reply he knocked on the door and sudden trepidation touched her. As if he sensed it, Liam took her hand in his just as the door swung open. A woman who was clearly Liam’s mum stood at the door, a smile on her face. Her eyes went directly to Liam, rested on him for a poignant moment and Ava could see the love. Yet there was also a wariness, one that directly matched Liam’s.
Liam moved forward, but she sensed an awkwardness in the jut of shoulder; for once his movement seemed stilted as he hugged the older woman.
‘Mum, this is Ava. Ava, this is my mum.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘And you.’ Ava knew she had to avert the sense of discomfort in the air and it seemed clear that Bea felt the same way. The older woman smiled. ‘John and Max are getting things ready in the kitchen. I thought maybe we should have a word in private first.’
Bea led them into the lounge, a tastefully decorated, comfortably cluttered room. She turned to Ava, her grey eyes clear and direct. ‘Max knows nothing about what happened between your father and Liam’s dad and I’d like to keep it that way.’
‘I completely understand and I won’t say anything about that,’ Ava said, appreciating the directness of Bea’s words. ‘But I would like to tell you that my father did regret his actions. I realise that is not particularly helpful but he was sorry. And I am too.’
‘Thank you. It was a long time ago now and, whilst I won’t pretend to any positive feeling towards your father, I know his actions are not your fault. I will do my best not to make this awkward.’
‘Thank you.’
She broke off as the door swung open to admit a youth and a tall man with grizzled hair and a serious face, though Ava noted his eyes held both warmth and humour. Both held trays containing tea and coffee pots as well as plates of cakes and biscuits.
‘Ava, this is Max and John They have been baking up a storm today—sadly I am banned from the kitchen due to my non-existent baking skills. Which Liam will also attest to.’
Liam simply smiled, a small tight smile. ‘I am sure these will be delicious.’ But the words walked on stilts and Ava flashed a quick glance at him, instinctively stepped a little closer to him. Irrationally wanted him to know that, whilst she definitely liked Bea, she was on his side. Though why there should be a side to pick, she wasn’t quite sure.
Accepting a cake from Max, she smiled at him, saw he had inherited his dad’s serious face. ‘They are utterly delicious,’ she said. ‘Chocolate orange?’
Max nodded. ‘Yes, and Dad made shortbread.’
‘You are men of many talents.’ She smiled at John. ‘Liam did mention you love cooking and I understand Max, you rollerblade as well.’
The dark-haired boy nodded. ‘I speed skate and I play roller hockey.’
Bea gave a small shudder. ‘It’s a pretty violent game. But Max is brilliant at it. He’s trying out for the county team next week.’ Her pride shone through and Ava could sense how close she and her stepson were, wondered whether Liam minded on some level. Impossible to tell from his expression, which was one of courteous interest.
Max turned to Liam and she could see the curiosity in his eyes. ‘Um... We had a careers fair at school the other day. The army were there. It looked really cool. I... I told them about you.’ Another quick look. ‘They were talking about the army reserves. I wondered if you joined them. Mum said to ask you.’
Liam glanced quickly at his mum and then back to Max, and again Ava sensed an undercurrent of unease, suspected Liam wasn’t quite sure what to say, what his mum wanted him to say. And her heart twisted inside her in empathy—she knew he wanted to do what was best. Knew too that Bea simply wanted him to tell the truth, otherwise she wouldn’t have told Max to ask him. But perhaps what seemed obvious to her wasn’t obvious to Liam.
Without thought she intervened. ‘Liam told me he joined up because his boss at his Saturday job was in the reserves. That it was a great thing for him.’
Another glance at his mum and then Liam nodded. ‘It gave me structure and I loved the physical side of it. I guess a gym would do the same thing but I liked the outdoors element. I made some good friends too—people I’m still in touch with today.’
‘Maybe I’ll give it a go. I’ll mention you when I enrol.’
It became clear to Ava that Bea and John and Max were a happy relaxed family unit, the banter and the chat easy, and Ava found herself laughing at some of the dry anecdotes John told about work and some of the plumbing disasters he encountered. Yet throughout Ava was, oh, so aware of Liam next to her, felt the palpable tension in his body, saw how little he participated. His laughter was a little forced, a beat behind everyone else.
And it tugged her heartstrings because this showed a vulnerable side to him and she wasn’t sure what had caused that. Realising the topic had shifted once more, Ava quickly refocused.
‘I’ve got to do some work experience as part of my course,’ Max said. ‘I wish I could roller skate for that. But I can’t.’
‘You could come to work with me.’ Both John and Bea spoke at the same time and Max made a face.
‘I really appreciate that but going to work with you or Dad isn’t the same as...’ He trailed off but Ava saw the quick glance that he cast at Liam.
So did Bea. Swiftly she leaned forward and Ava sensed it was to protect Max from potential rejection. ‘We were wondering if you’d like to stay for dinner?’
‘Another time,’ Liam said. ‘I’ve got plans for dinner tonight.’
For a moment a look of hurt flashed across Bea’s face As if he too saw it, he said hurriedly, ‘But definitely another time.’
‘Definitely,’ Ava added. ‘And it’s been so lovely to meet you. I truly appreciate how welcoming you’ve been.’
Final goodbyes said, she followed Liam back to the car, climbed in and buckled up. ‘We could have stayed for dinner if you wanted. I like them.’
‘Yes. I could tell.’
Ava frowned, saw the closed expression on his face, sensed a taut undercurrent of emotion, saw the way his hands gripped the steering wheel.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ He turned the key in the ignition and put the car into gear, each movement contained and yet she sensed that he wanted to crash and grind through the gears and accelerate away. Liam shook his head. ‘There is just no point in them getting to know you too well—we’re going to split up in a few months.’
For some inexplicable reason the words made her stomach dip, presumably at the idea of the media coverage of their split, the knowledge that they would have to manage it to minimise suspicion or negativity. ‘Yes, but—’
‘There aren’t any buts. It’s better to quit whilst we’re ahead. We convinced them we’re legit. Mission accomplished.’
For a moment Ava was tempted to let it go—then she looked at him again, saw the shadow in his eyes and knew she couldn’t do that. Perhaps it wasn’t her business but she’d liked Bea. And John and Max. And it seemed all wrong that Liam didn’t feel close to them. Didn’t spend Christmas with them.
‘Could we stop somewhere before you drop me back home? Maybe go for a walk?’
The glance he gave her held a wealth of suspicion and for a moment she wondered if he would refuse, simply press his foot on the accelerator, turn the music on loud and complete their journey. ‘We need to discuss our plan for the next few days.’
‘Sure. There’s a large National Trust park nearby. We can head there.’
Twenty minutes later Liam surveyed Ava as they walked along a pretty tree-lined path; evergreens dense and green edged a garden that still bloomed with colour despite the winter month. She’d pulled on a navy-blue duffel coat and her cheeks were tinged pink from the breeze.
She glanced sideways at him and he recognised this as an unconscious indicator of a preliminary skirmish. ‘The planning that must go into these gardens so they look beautiful all year boggles the mind.’ Her tone was innocent.
‘Yes,’ Liam agreed. Where was she going with this?
‘Do you garden at all?’
‘Nope.’
‘I think your mum and John do, though. I spotted their back garden and it’s full of flowers and pots.’
‘Yes.’ He’d wondered if Ava had really brought him here to plan the next few days or to discuss their visit and now it seemed he’d been right to suspect the latter. ‘But we aren’t here to talk about gardening,’ he said firmly. ‘We need to think about our next steps.’
‘Yes.’ Now her chin jutted out determinedly. ‘Which includes talking about family.’
‘No need. We met my mum and her family and that box is ticked.’
‘No, it isn’t. What are you going to do if your mum follows up and asks us round for dinner?’
Liam sighed. ‘Put her off? We can always be busy and I don’t think she will ask again.’
‘But that will hurt their feelings.’
‘Perhaps. But that’s better than her getting close to you and then we spilt up.’
Contrition touched her amber eyes and she reached out, placed a hand on his arm. ‘I am so sorry. Your mum must have been devastated when Jess died—of course, you are trying to protect her.’
Liam blinked, saw the compassion etched on her face and knew he couldn’t let her believe that.
‘No. It’s not that. Truly. Of course my mum was upset when Jess died. But they weren’t close.’ Jess had always said Bea made her nervous and in truth Liam had wondered if Bea had known, had seen that their marriage wasn’t all it should be. After all, she had watched her own marriage disintegrate, perhaps she could see the signs. The idea had made him uncomfortable, had reinforced his decision to let Bea get on with her new life, protected from his problems. And Jess had seemed happy with that, happy for it to be ‘just the two of them’.
‘Then what is going on?’
‘What do you mean?’ He kept his voice even. ‘Nothing is going on.’ He tried to inject finality into his tone, but Ava shook her head.
‘Yes, there is. Otherwise why were you so tense earlier?’
‘I wasn’t. Apart from being a bit nervous—this is the first time we’ve “appeared” in public as a couple.’
‘I’m not buying that. You have nerves of steel.’ She raised her hands up. ‘If you want to tell me to mind my own business do, but don’t lie to me.’
The words caused him to pause, swallow the words of denial that sprang to his lips. Dammit. He was lying. Irritation sparked inside him—this was exactly why he eschewed relationships. They became messy and complicated and he didn’t know the correct responses. But lying didn’t feel right and neither did the unvarnished truth. ‘Fine. I wasn’t nervous. We’re just not close.’
‘Why not?’ The words impacted the air, directed by a force he didn’t fully understand. ‘I don’t get it. Before I met them I thought maybe they weren’t very nice but they are nice. All of them.’
‘I know they are.’
‘Then what’s not to be close to?’ Her face was serious, a wistful look in her amber eyes. ‘You’re lucky. Your mum, John, Max. They are lovely, decent human beings. I don’t understand why you don’t embrace the chance to be part of it. To ask Max to come and do work experience with you. Go have a beer with John. A cocktail with your mum. Celebrate Christmas with them all.’ He heard frustration, almost anger in the vibrancy of her voice and he stopped in his tracks.
Ava stopped too, turned to him and he studied her face. ‘Why does this matter so much to you?’
Now those amber eyes blazed at him. ‘Because I’m angry that you’re being so stupid. That you’re wasting a chance to have a family. When I would do anything to have that opportunity. All my life I wanted siblings, real siblings, not a shadowy, furtive half-family I wasn’t allowed to meet. I wanted a mum who I could be close to, laugh with, shop with, confide in. What I do have now are two half-siblings who won’t even speak to me. And a mum who is furious with me. And you have this lovely family you are refusing to be part of.’
Understanding hit him; he heard the pain that underlaid her words, could see it in the way she turned away from him, tried to hide her expression. ‘I’m sorry.’ The words were wholly inadequate and they both knew it. ‘I didn’t realise.’ Had always assumed the Cassevetis were a close, happy family.
‘There is no reason why you should.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘It doesn’t work like that. You don’t get to hold back and not talk about your family stuff, whilst I discuss mine.’
‘That’s not how I meant it.’ God. He really did suck at this. ‘I just thought talking about it may help.’ He stared at her as the penny dropped. Presumably that was exactly how Ava felt too. She wanted to help him. The idea was startling in its novelty. And suddenly he did get it, knew that he wanted Ava to understand that he wasn’t blithely refusing something she wanted so much. ‘Shall we sit down and I’ll try and explain?’
Ava shook her head. ‘Hell. Now I feel like I’ve forced you into this.’
‘You haven’t. Truly.’ She sat down next to him. ‘You’re right. My mum, John, Max...they are all lovely people and they are a happy family, a happy family unit. They don’t need me to be part of it.’
‘It’s not about need. You could choose to be part of that happy family unit. You would be welcomed in.’
‘It isn’t that clear-cut. There’s history.’ He wanted Ava to know that she wasn’t alone, that the past had thrown its shadow over his family as well. ‘You know that my parents’ marriage disintegrated.’
Ava nodded.
‘Well, at the time I didn’t know or fully understand what was going on, didn’t realise how cruel a thing alcohol abuse is, how it changes a person. All I saw as a child was my mum trying to get my dad to stop drinking—she wanted him to “be a man”, pull himself out of the pit of self-pity he was wallowing in. The problem was, the less sympathetic she was, the more he tried to convince her the blame was all your father’s and the more bitter he got. And as Dolci really took off it got worse and worse. My mum kept telling him to let it go and he just couldn’t.’
Ava’s amber eyes focused on his face and he sensed how intensely she was listening to him. ‘And the more you must have felt in the middle.’
‘I wasn’t as fair as that. I landed on my dad’s side.’
‘Because that way you didn’t have to give up believing in him,’ she said softly. And with such understanding he knew she truly empathised. Knew how hard she had worked at believing in her dad.
‘Yes, but that meant I blamed my mother for not being supportive enough, not being loving or understanding enough.’ He shook his head. ‘What I couldn’t see was everything she was doing. All the extra shifts, all the worries about not being able to pay the bills, and all the while having to deal with the demands of living with an alcoholic. But she always got on with it. There was food on the table, and she still made me do my homework. But my dad, he let me do whatever I wanted.’
‘You were a child—a child doesn’t understand the responsibilities of bills to pay or adult emotions. You just wanted everything to be OK, for your parents to be happy again.’
The sympathy in her eyes shivered discomfort down him. Little did Ava know how instrumental he’d been in his mother’s unhappiness. He rubbed the back of his neck, knew he needed, wanted to tell her. ‘Perhaps. But it didn’t work out like that. Instead my mum met John when I was twelve. They fell in love.’ Ava’s eyes didn’t move from his face, her whole being focused on him. ‘She wanted to take me and leave Dad.’
‘What happened?’
‘Dad went nuts, and I took his side. I told her I wouldn’t go, that I’d run away, quit school, that my dad would die without her and it would be her fault. I said so many things and in the end she stayed. For me.’ His voice was bleak.
‘You were a child. You loved your dad. What you did wasn’t wrong. If your mother chose to stay with your dad that was her choice to make. It was not your responsibility.’
‘I was still the reason she stayed. The reason she and John lost years of happiness and my mum gained years of misery. John met someone else, got married, had Max and Mum was devastated. It didn’t work out because he’d never got over Mum. He and his wife got divorced and he got custody of Max.’
‘But obviously they did reconnect.’
‘Yes. When I joined the army Mum did finally leave Dad. A couple of years later she and John started talking again and very soon after that they got married.’
‘That’s a good thing.’
‘Yes. It is. It’s a wonderful thing and I am truly happy for them.’
Now her gaze held an awareness, an understanding that he didn’t want. ‘And you don’t want to spoil it?’
‘Yes... No. I don’t want to intrude on it.’
‘You wouldn’t be. They like you. Your mum loves you. I could see all that.’
‘In one visit?’ He made no effort to hide his scepticism.
‘Yes. I know what it feels like to have siblings who aren’t accessible. Max looks up to you. I bet he’d love to have a hands-on older brother like you. You heard him when he was talking about the army. And joining the reserves. You’re his stepbrother. Do something about it. Stop being scared. I know I’m right. They wouldn’t feel you were intruding, they’d welcome you in. It’s your family unit.’
For a moment her words slipped past all the barricades and guards, probed into a place he had blocked off long ago. He wondered what it would be like to be part of it, to fit in. Emotions dipped and waved. Envy? Sadness? Regret? Who knew? All he did know was that he didn’t want to feel any of those emotions. Couldn’t take the risk. Ava was right—he was scared. It was too easy to get it wrong. What if he encouraged Max to join the army and, God forbid, something happened to him? What if he somehow offended John and his mum had to take sides? Too many worst-case scenarios and he knew the best way forward was to make sure none of them were possible.
‘Thank you for the advice, and I mean that. But I’m not a family kind of guy and I know they are happy, I know my mum is happy and that’s what’s most important to me. I’m not going to mess with the status quo. Because it’s a good one.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But that doesn’t mean you should do the same.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Luca and Jodi—maybe you should try a different approach. Why don’t you contact them direct rather than go through lawyers? Pick up the phone, leave messages, use social media. Talk to them.’
He wondered if his words even registered. Her head was shaking a denial before he’d even finished. ‘I can’t do that. The lawyers would have my guts for garters and my mum—I couldn’t do that to her. She is already furious with me because I haven’t tried to get the will overturned. She wants them out of our lives. I won’t add to her sense of betrayal by doing something that would be a complete et tu, Brute? moment.’ She rose to her feet, gave him a smile. ‘Truly, it’s better left.’
He knew the smile to be fake and the words to be wrong but what could he say? After all, wasn’t her argument the exact one he’d advocated himself? It’s better left. Conversations like this one tilted his ordered world, ones that reminded him exactly why relationships were a bad idea.
‘Come on. I’ll get you home.’
‘Thank you. I’ll post some photos on social media tonight. And I think from now on we need to be seen out and about a lot more. Dinners, parties, social events. I’ll get it all set up.’
The business-like tone was exactly what he needed to hear.