Dee blinked. ‘Is she okay?’
‘She’s fine. Just tired. You know how she gets when she’s had one too many.’
Dee nodded. She did know. When her mum drank too much, she got snappy, silly, or sometimes weepy. Once, she’d shouted at Alexa for talking too loud.
‘Hey. Don’t look so worried. I haven’t said anything,’ Shane added, dropping his voice like it was a secret between them. ‘About the email. That’s our secret, remember?’
Dee nodded quickly, relief washing over her. ‘Good. I was worried you’d had a row because of me… so I suppose our girls’ night is off. We were going to get a takeaway and watch a film.’
‘Were you? Look, why don’t you order something anyway and chill in your room and then when I get back tomorrow night we can do something together. Have a Friday night feast and a movie. How does that sound?’
She looked up at him, finding comfort and confidence in his expression, the way he always seemed in control and made the sun come out with the simplest idea. Unlike her mum, who lately looked like she was miles away and living in the dreariest place in the world, and no wonder. She was obviously plotting to get rid of Shane with Aunty Nancy.
‘Okay, maybe I could take her something to eat later on.’
‘I’d leave her be,’ he said. ‘Let her sleep it off. She’ll be better in the morning but if you need me, just ring, I’ll be on hands-free while I’m driving, okay?’
Dee nodded, feeling reassured. He reached out, touched her chin with one finger, tilting her face up gently. Her cheeks flushed. She didn’t know why, exactly. Only that his praise and attention and touch always made her feel like she’d swallowed happy medicine.
He winked, stepped back, and slid behind the wheel. ‘Love you, DeeDee,’ he called through the window.
‘Love you too,’ she replied automatically.
Then he was gone. She stood there for a moment, watching the red taillights disappear around the bend. When she entered the house, it was totally still and had an empty feel. She made her way upstairs, the door to her mother’s suite was closed. She dithered for a moment. Should she go up or do as Shane said and leave her to sleep it off? The rumble in her tummy made the decision for her.
Instead, she threw her things into her room, used the loo and then went back downstairs to the kitchen and made herself a milkshake. Chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. She climbed onto the counter and scrolled her phone. Anold video popped up from last term. Someone had drawn a really rude image on Mr Fletcher’s whiteboard with permanent marker. She laughed, then sighed.
What was going to happen to her family? She had friends who’d told her all about family dramas with stepparents who didn’t care. Dads who forgot birthdays. Divorces and screaming matches. Courts and social workers. Dee couldn’t bear all that.
Surely, if it came to it, Shane wouldn’t be like them. He wouldn’t let her down because he really understood her. He listened. He didn’t roll his eyes when she talked about music or global warming and how much she loved dolphins. He made her feel important. Sometimes he said she reminded him of Molly when she was younger. That made Dee feel nice because to her, Molly was perfect, most of the time anyway.
She remembered how he bought her a bracelet last Christmas, just a small thing, but in a real box with velvet inside. He said she had a grown-up soul. That she was wise beyond her years. That he trusted her with things the others wouldn’t understand. Those words wrapped around her like a blanket. She was only fifteen. But she felt older when she was with him. He made her feel like she mattered. Sometimes, when he called her his special girl, she thought she could do anything. Even fix a broken family.
Chapter Nineteen
It was 6pm in Toronto, 11pm in the UK and Nancy had been calling Julia for the past three hours and she was getting edgy. She’d had one of those twin-vibe psychic moments where the urge to hear her sister’s voice had become a bellow in her ears. She had even tried Molly but her phone was either off or on silent, same with Dee who probably had those bloody headphones on in bed. There was no way she’d try Shane. She’d rather superglue her lips up than ask him for anything.
Maybe she was overreacting, letting her imagination run wild but it was hard not to. The heart-to-heart with Julia in France had healed the stupid rift that had kept them at arm’s length. It had been the moment Nancy had prayed for. She had hoped that Julia would come to her senses while at the same time, wished that her fears about Shane might be unfounded; that her sister was in fact, happy. Clearly wishes and prayers didn’t work and hopes were for suckers.
Nancy tried Julia’s number again, left another voice message but gave up on the girls, resolving to have a word with both of them about being responsible and keeping an eye out for theirmum, especially once the divorce papers were served. Nancy suspected Shane wouldn’t take it well and they’d have a fight on their hands, so Julia would need all the support she could get.
She was too worried to eat so made a cup of chamomile tea instead, hoping it might soothe her and as she dunked the bag in the water, her mind wandered back to that spring day in Antibes, when Julia unburdened herself and Nancy went to her rescue once again.
It was late, the patio windows slid open, the scent of salt and bougainvillaea drifted in from the garden, the leaves swaying lazily in the breeze. Inside the villa’s kitchen, the only light came from under the cupboards and the soft glow of a citronella lantern on the table. Nancy poured the last of the chilled wine into two glasses, a welcome antidote to the warmth of the evening.
‘You’re very quiet,’ she said, watching her sister over the rim of her glass. ‘That’s never a good sign. Are you worried about Dad? He’s going to be okay, you know, I’m sure of it.’
Julia gave a tired smile. ‘Just thinking.’
‘About what?’ Nancy slid into the seat opposite, the cool metal of the chair making her flinch.
Julia’s voice was low. ‘About Shane and the girls.’
Nancy frowned. ‘Do you want to share?’
Julia didn’t answer straight away. Instead, she took a slow sip of wine and stared through the open doors into the darkened garden. Crickets and night insects did their thing. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked once and fell silent.
‘I don’t love him anymore and I know for a fact he feels the same way,’ she said finally. ‘And I don’t know when that changed. Or if we were ever really in love.’
