He stared at the ceiling. ‘It shouldn’t have.’
‘But it did.’
He said nothing. She pulled the throw tighter around her and turned away. Her throat felt tight. In that moment, the power she’d felt earlier slipped a little. Not gone, diminished slightly and she instantly knew she wanted it back, like her life depended on feeling that way again.
Outside, the snow continued to fall. Clean and silent and endless. Inside, something had begun that couldn’t be undone.It isn’t wrong,she told herself. How could it be when they’d both wanted it, consented? Cocooned in the warmth of the fire and wool, Molly lay wide awake, thinking of tomorrow and how she would make sure they did it all again.
Chapter Thirteen
Hundreds of miles away from the winter slopes and her love-sick memories, Molly lay in the glorious sunshine and took the last two years apart, and the question that kept flashing up asked, was it manipulation or a meeting of two hearts? Had she benefited from his tutelage or been robbed her of her childhood? She’d been the one who thought she was better than her peers, worldly wise and mature. Or was she a fool who’d missed out on a chunk of her teenage life, a rite of passage she’d been artfully steered clear of.
Phoebe’s revelation about Kye had stunned her. For years she’d hated on a boy who’d done absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, he’d acted honourably and protected his mum and sister. But Molly hated the fact that he’d been scared and worried and cast in a bad light then carried that secret and no doubt anger for years. Maybe she could reach out on socials, apologise and tell him she understood. Or maybe she should just leave it and not drop Phoebe in it, or open old wounds.
That didn’t alter the fact that Shane had been sly and mean for no reason and his actions back then had caused her so muchhurt and embarrassment at a pivotal point in her life. What she didn’t know was why he’d done it. Deep down she knew, and it had nothing to do with saving her from a bad guy because Kye had been sweet and decent. The reason Shane had done it was because he liked to be in control. Just like he was with her mum, always wanting to know where she was going and who with, going into sulks if she got home late or went to dinner without him, even if it was with female friends.
It was one of the things her mum had grumbled about, his possessiveness and critical opinion of her social circle. She said it was because he couldn’t hold his own against real grown-ups and wanted everything his own way, and to keep her apart from anyone who might criticise him.
In Molly’s case she was sure it was much simpler. That Shane had wanted her all to himself for much longer than she imagined, possibly before she realised she wanted him. His offering to pick her up from wherever was in the guise of being a diligent stepdad – or was that so he could spy and make sure she didn’t hook up with any one at the end of the night and have a cheeky snog. Not that she needed cheap thrills with teenage boys when she had the real deal at home, later on, anyway.
Was his interest in her friends and activities, wanting to be in on all the latest teen gossip his way of compensating for not being Ronnie, a man he could never hope to replace or outshine in the parental stakes? Or did it come back to that old adage, that knowledge is power? Even before ‘them’, when she was just a teenage kid wanting to have fun, there was always something there, she saw it now.
When he collected her after a sleepover. ‘Who was there? Were Jilly’s parents around all night? Was her brother there, you know, the one at uni?’
Or before she went out, he’d cast his eyes over what she was wearing. ‘It’s going to be cold later, maybe wear jeans not a dress. Don’t you think, Julia? She’ll catch her death.’
And gentle hints. ‘Remember, I was a teenage lad once and I know all the tricks and what they’re after so any funny business, ring me, okay?’
Molly had taken it all at face value, that he was simply looking out for her and now… looking back she wasn’t so sure or was she just overthinking it all because there was so much going on? Her mum and Nancy plotting away. Kye and Phoebe. The big farewell that night. Her party. Princeton on the horizon. She needed to think clearly. Go back to the start.
It began subtly. Compliments that felt personal. Looks that lingered. His laughter, warm and kind, always directed just at her. She could trace the moment it turned, when he started sitting too close on the sofa, brushing a hand against hers, letting his gaze drop too long on the hem of her skirt. It was never overt. That was the genius of it. It felt like an awakening, taken at her own pace, a gentle realisation of the power she possessed. And it could always be brushed off as nothing, the over-imagination of a teenage girl. Wouldn’t be the first time it happened or the last.
He would remind her she was different, precious. Smarter. Then later, after St Moritz, sexier. More mature. That the other girls her age were silly, shallow. But she wasn’t. She was special. She was the one who understood him. Made him happy and feel wanted again.
Then the subterfuge. Keeping up the façade of being an everyday teen, he agreed with that, encouraged it even, but sometimes, after a night out with friends or a sleepover at Jilly’s, the questions were intense. But that was because they were in love and she got jealous, too. If he stayed out on a business trip or she saw him with other women when she went to ClearGlassor at a company function. Molly got that; she was guilty as charged.
‘Where did you stay, in Newcastle?’
‘When will you be back because I miss you?’
‘I saw you with Helen from accounts, at the food truck outside work. You were laughing. Do you think she’s pretty?’
And now? She told herself she didn’t care. That what happened with Shane had been… strategic. She called it ‘his training’ because that way she could detach herself emotionally. The way he’d taught her things. Shown her things. Made her into someone who knew what men wanted, how they moved, what they whispered when the lights were out.
And soon she’d be in America. Princeton. A fresh start. A different world, full of new people. The guys on campus looked like movie stars. Football players with muscles and perfect teeth and tans. She’d seen them on Instagram. She couldn’t wait. She would own them. She would use everything Shane had taught her.
And yet, despite the way she talked to herself in mirrors, despite the bold lipstick and skintight dresses he liked her to wear, there was something else clinging to her mind and body today. Her mum suspected Shane of cheating and Molly presumed that person was her. But what if it wasn’t? What if the gossips were talking about someone else?
What if he was seeing another woman, someone his own age and Molly really was just a plaything? What if all the stuff he whispered in her ear, the things that made her believe she was different, were just tricks he used on everyone? She remembered her mum’s words on the phone to Nancy. ‘It could be any old tart. I’m starting to think he’s not fussy.’
Was she the tart? The idea turned her stomach. It was ridiculous, she knew that. She was the one who had seduced him. She was the one who knew every inch of the man herfriends had giggled about behind schoolbooks and fake lashes, whispering that her stepdad was a total DILF. And she was the one who’d had him. That had always given her a kick. The power. The secret. The way she’d walk past girls who fantasised about him and know she was the one who’d thrown off his power suit, unbuttoned his shirt and watched it crumple to the floor. But now? Now she wasn’t so sure. She was so confused and there was absolutely nobody she could tell.
Chapter Fourteen
The park was quiet. The August heat too much for playing out so mothers and toddlers stayed home in the cool. The ducks had it sussed though, and glided across the pond, the water barely disturbed and gleaming under the sun. A dragonfly darted above the reeds, wings zum-zum-zumming. Dee sat cross-legged on the wooden bench beneath the sycamore tree, the one that faced the water. Her phone was in her pocket, untouched. She didn’t want music or noise.
This place calmed her. It always had. She liked the village. The neat hedgerows and hanging baskets. The families with dogs, the ladies in tennis whites, the butcher and grocer who knew your name. It was small and safe and predictable. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Not really. Certainly not in one of those chaotic homes like some of her school friends came from, where the shouting never stopped and no one ever ate dinner together.
She was lucky. That’s what everyone always said. Her mum paid for private school. She had a beautiful house. A proper garden. A pool and gym. Friends who wanted to come over andhang out. Holidays abroad, not trips to a rainy caravan park in Wales or somewhere Dee had never been. And yet, she was ashamed to admit that despite all that, she felt fed up all the time now. From the moment she woke up to going to sleep. Like the life she loved was falling apart. And no matter what Molly and her mum said, change wasn’t good and no, she wasn’t tougher than she thought.
