When Max returned to the sitting room, she could tell from Luke’s expression that something was wrong. He looked perplexed, maybe a little angry.
‘What’s up?’
His mind was somewhere else as he turned his head to Max.
‘Sorry… what?’
‘What’s wrong? You look kind of…’
Luke shook his head and looked at the floor. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Patting the sofa beside him, he asked Max to sit down.
Not a good sign, Max thought. Jeez, she knew things were going too well. She felt a rising sense of panic. What was wrong?
Putting a hand on Max’s knee and turning his body towards her, Luke’s face became softer as he seemed to take her in.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he told her, his brow furrowing with new concern. ‘No one’s died. It’s just… well, my mum.’
‘God, is she OK?’
Luke let out a laugh. ‘Oh she’s fine. The thing is, I told her about us the other night. Actually, I told the whole family – Dad and Ben too. I knew they’d be fine. So long as I’m happy, they’re happy. Dad admitted it was a bit weird, but it’s not like we’re related. And he’d been quite taken with you that day at the golf club.’
Taken with her? That was far more than Max could have hoped for; she had just prayed she didn’t come over as some raving alcoholic stop-out.
Luke was serious again. ‘But my mum… well, she hit the roof.’ Luke took Max’s hand. ‘She said some awful things – to me, my dad – things she should never have said and that can never be taken back.’
Whatever Patricia had said had clearly hurt Luke, who looked wounded at the memory of her words. The situation was unexpected for everyone concerned but what a turn of events for Patricia. Lucy had often confided to Max how uncomfortable she felt in her company. She made no effort to conceal her displeasure that she had to have anything to do with Lucy, seeing her as an inconvenient reminder of Peter’s adultery all these years ago.
While Peter, Ben and Luke were warm and kind, Patricia sounded like a bit of a snob, whenever possible letting Lucy know she looked down on her family in Scotland. Patricia never actually said it, but she didn’t have to, Lucy had said.
Max squeezed his hand, willing him to go on.
‘It’s not that she’s a bad person, Max. It’s just… she really resents what happened, even now. I think she’s the reason we never met you or Marj. She wouldn’t have it. So, God, you can imagine how she feels. The one thing that might bring the families together…’
‘I understand,’ Max told Luke quietly.
Luke smiled, taking a deep breath. ‘Anyway, we had an argument. I told her I was spending New Year with you at the Hogmanay Ball. She said over her dead body – she’d arranged some family gathering.’
‘Oh I didn’t know. You already had plans?’
‘No, no, I don’t. Ben’s not going either. It’s for a few of their couple friends, really, and a few relatives. I’d have got out of it to be with friends anyway. But she’s turned it into an ultimatum, painting it as a straight choice: you or her.’
Max’s shoulders drooped; suddenly she felt tired. How awful to put Luke in this position. Patricia sounded like a nasty piece of work. But she was his mum. Sure, he might not have the kind of relationship she had with Marj, but still, you can’t change your family. What if he decided to put her feelings first?
Luke lifted her chin with his finger. ‘Hey, don’t look so sad.’ His bright blue eyes were wide and looking into hers. ‘I know what she’s doing is wrong. Sometimes there’s no reasoning with her. I tried to but she wouldn’t listen.’ Leaning in to kiss her forehead, he whispered, ‘Don’t worry. Everything will be OK.’
Max smiled. She hoped with everything she had it would be. But making Luke choose between his mother and a girl he’d known for a few weeks? How could that ever work out OK?