‘George is heartbroken, and Sally says I won’t get any Christmas dinner if I return without you. In fact, I don’t think I should go back at all if you’re not with me. Sally might lock me out on the street.’ He moved into the door space and cast a quick glance around the room, his eyes landing on the sofa. ‘Can I sleep on that, if you won’t come back?’ She stared at him. It seemed she was trying to work out if he really meant it.
‘Yes,’ she said. A single tear trickled down her flushed cheek and her chin trembled.
Her agreement was worrying. He’d hoped by threatening to stay she’d agree the best option was to go back to George. He’d have to increase the pressure.Okay, let’s see how far I can push it before she caves.
‘Be gentle,’ George had said. But needs must, Owen argued silently. Sally had told him to do whatever was necessary and after the last few days, he would do anything for Sally.
‘Good, thanks,’ he said, then added, ‘Of course, a bed would be better.’ He smiled in a way that he hoped had echoes of a sexual predator, before he shrugged out of his waterproof and looked around for somewhere to put it.
‘There’s a coat rack over there,’ Millie said, her voice small and snuffly.
‘I’ve been on a rickety camp bed since last Thursday. It would be good to share a proper bed.’ Owen hung the jacket up and looked again at Millie, just in time to stop himself asking if she slept in a double bed.
She was silently shredding a tissue in between her fingers. Her head held low, and hair hanging limp around her shoulders, so he could not see her face, but he saw the dark stain of a large tear land on her thigh.
‘Millie,’ he said on a deep sigh, striding to her side and taking her in his arms. ‘There’s a simple way to fix this.’
Her body shook with unsuppressed sobs and a muffled voice said into his shoulder, ‘There isn’t… he lied to me. I’ll never be able to trust him again.’
‘He didn’t lie. He’s not your ex, Roger.’
‘Robert.’
‘Robert, then. Sorry. I’d forgotten the name. George didn’t lie to you. He just didn’t tell you everything.’
‘But why, why didn’t he trust me enough to tell me about his father?’
‘He did, today.’ Owen leant back so he could see her face. He brushed her dark wavy hair away from her face, and added, ‘Look how that turned out. Do you honestly believe you’d have greeted the news any better back in the summer?’
Millie frowned.
‘George loves you, Millie. He feared losing you.’
‘He told you this?’
‘Yes.’
‘But why didn’t he tell me?’ Her voice rose in pitch. ‘Why did he never tell me he loved me?’
‘Because of Roger, um Robert; what he did to you. George knew you’d been hurt by a mouthy bastard who threw words of love around like they were sweeties that meant nothing. But those same words meant everything to George. He loves you; he wouldn’t spin you a yarn just to get you into bed.’
Millie flinched.
‘I’m sorry. If you didn’t want me knowing so much but George, well, he’s been increasingly wound up over you. Not sure if he’s doing the wrong thing for trying so hard to do the right. He really loves you, Millie. He would do anything for you. And tell me now if I am wrong, but I think you love him too.’
