Fix Them Up, page 13
‘I’ll take beginner’s luck.’ I smiled.
Like a switch, Liam’s face turned grave, and I instantly missed the warmth of that smile.
‘About what Brian brought you.’
My stomach sank. Liam had distracted me. I’d almost forgotten why we’d come out here.
Liam held his hands up. ‘You don’t have to tell me if it’s private.’
I shifted my glass and ran my fingers over the ridges of the Guinness logo. ‘It’s okay. They are my dad’s plans for the house. He sketched them himself before he passed.’ I passed them to Liam, giving him permission to have a look.
Liam opened them, and his eyes widened. ‘He drew these? They’re incredible.’
My leg shook under the table. ‘He was a talented artist when he wanted to be. He didn’t get to do it much, though. There wasn’t much of an option to be an artist when he was younger. His family didn’t have money, so he needed to go into a profession. He became a mechanic.’
Liam frowned.
‘Yeah, I know. Artist and mechanic don’t add up. He owned a garage in Reading, but it closed when the financial crash hit in ’08. I didn’t really get the whole story because I was young, and I think my parents were trying to shield me from it.’
‘So then he decided to do up houses?’
I swallowed a sip of Guinness. ‘I think it was his way of being creative in a practical way. He could put together designs, and he had a great skill set, which meant he didn’t need to bring a lot of tradesmen in, apart from some electrical stuff.’
If I was honest, I didn’t fully know what my dad did or didn’t do on his renovation projects. On the rare occasion we would talk over the phone every few months, he never divulged much information apart from where he was in the country and what he was having for tea. Panic bubbled up inside me when I thought about how clueless I was. My dad had these plans drawn, and I could barely knock the plaster off walls without supervision.
According to Liam, at least.
‘Dad had more ambitious plans than me. I can’t afford to do this’ – I pointed at the plans – ‘and turn a profit once I sell.’
‘Let me look,’ Liam said, reaching for the plans.
I watched his dark eyes scan over the paper; his eyes widened when he read my name. The realisation that Dad had made the plans for me. I should have felt exposed, divulging that information to someone I’d only known a week, but something about Liam’s way made me feel comfortable. I knew he wouldn’t try to make me feel better with useless words. He would listen and I’d never had anyone listen.
‘I mean, we could,’ Liam said. ‘But if you are moving back –’ He glanced up at me as if it was a question.
‘I’m moving back.’
Liam glanced away, a shadow flitting over his face. Then, he nodded. ‘You don’t want to overspend.’
‘It’s fine. We’ll continue with the plan we made. I’m happy with it.’ I forced a smile, only slightly disappointed. If not for my dad, then for me. Because I had to admit they were bigger and better than my more modest approach.
Liam tilted his head. ‘The plan we made is solid. You’ll be guaranteed a return.’
‘Fine. We keep it as is,’ I said, only a tinge of disappointment entering my voice.
I picked up the folder and took the plans out again, running my hand over the sketches. I could feel where my dad’s pencil had made grooves, and the watercolours had dried on the paper.
‘Kat?’ I heard my uncle call out from the side door of the club.
‘Out here, Brian,’ Liam called into the dark.
‘Ay up, you two.’ My uncle sat beside Liam, struggling slightly to pull his leg over the bench.
‘Alright, old man?’ Liam grinned.
‘Oi, you. You’re not too old for a good hiding, you know.’ Brian rubbed Liam’s head, messing up his hair. There was a relaxed, natural rapport between them, which made my heart hurt.
‘Kat, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought the plans here. I –’ He stuttered, looking completely overwhelmed.
‘Brian, don’t worry.’
‘I didn’t think you’d get upset.’ He cringed, and I wanted to laugh. In my experience, men of a certain age were oblivious to feelings. ‘If it helps, Sandra’s given me an earful in the middle of the club.’
The image of my auntie giving Brian a bollocking in front of everyone made me laugh.
‘It’s okay, honestly. I think being here, well, it’s just dug some things up.’
Brian nodded. Liam was watching me intently. It felt reassuring to have him here. It was weird that I’d been here about a week and felt more comfortable around Liam than with my uncle. Even if I thought Liam was still a bit… skittish around me.
‘I’m sorry, love,’ Brian said, reaching his hand over to mine. I knew my uncle was always kind and warm whenever I’d seen him, but I’d clung to the idea that they ‘sided’ with my dad throughout my life. They’d never tried to see me, so they must be the bad guys. My auntie and uncle were slowly chipping away at my resolve to keep a distance.
‘We don’t think we’ll be able to follow Dad’s plans,’ I said, glancing at Liam.
‘That’s fine. He wouldn’t have wanted them to be a burden. But keep the plans, Kat. You might buy a house someday and want some inspiration,’ Brian said, a hopeful tone in his voice.
I nodded.
A hand came over mine; this time, it was large and calloused. Liam’s eyes met mine with a silent message.
Do you want to head back?
I gave a little shake of my head. I’m fine.
Are you sure?
‘When you’re ready, I can drop you back to the house if you want, Kat.’ Brian’s gaze flitted between me and Liam. ‘I haven’t seen it in years. It would be nice to see it again.’
I froze, unsure what to say. Brian didn’t know I was staying at Liam’s place.
‘She’s staying at mine, Brian,’ Liam said. ‘In the annexe,’ he clarified quickly.
Brian’s gaze shifted between Liam and me. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise.’
‘The house needed gutting completely, so Liam offered me the annexe to stay,’ I explained.
Brian frowned. ‘You could have stayed with us, Kat. You should have asked. We’re here to help if you need it.’
Liam gave me a look as if to say, See, I told you so, which made me want to stick my tongue out at him. Despite Brian’s offer, I still felt weird about staying with them. I didn’t want to look at Brian’s familiar body language and expressions daily and be reminded of my dad. Of all that complicated pain and grief.
But then again, I was imposing on Liam. And he didn’t owe me anything. So, I should probably take Brian up on the offer, even if it made me feel icky.
‘Well, if you’re sure –’ I began.
‘She has her own space at mine,’ Liam interrupted. ‘Right, Red?’
‘Well, yeah,’ I said uselessly.
Brian looked at Liam, his head cocked for a moment, then turned to me. ‘Well, the offer is always there. You know Sandra is still distraught from Lydia moving out.’
Liam huffed. ‘That was six years ago.’
Brian shrugged. ‘It might as well be yesterday to Sandra. Speaking of, I better go and grovel. I’ll see you two later.’
Brian clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulders as he stood up.
Once he was gone, I piped up, ‘You didn’t have to do that. I can take Brian and Sandra up on their offer if I’m imposing.’
‘You didn’t see your face.’ Liam shook his head. ‘No one should be uncomfortable where they live, even for a few weeks. Nothing is worse than having to tiptoe around someone else’s place. I get it. The annexe means you have your own space.’
‘To leave my socks on the bathroom floor.’
‘As long as it’s only socks.’ Liam’s eyes flickered with humour.
‘Erm, excuse me. I’m very tidy.’
‘Sure, sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.’
It struck me then how generous and open Liam was being with someone who was basically a stranger to him.
‘Why are you so generous?’
‘I’m repenting, remember? Plus, you’re entertaining.’ He shrugged, but then he held my gaze. His eyes flickered around my face, cheeks, eyes. My stomach swooped. I hated that my body reacted funny when he looked at me like that. I was sure this stupid crush was one-sided, so it was pointless getting all hot and bothered over a single look.
‘I like having you around,’ Liam said, his voice low, and warmth spread through my chest.
‘You like having me around,’ I repeated, a bit high from his admission. My face broke into a grin. ‘You like me. Oh my god.’ I gasped and raised my voice. ‘Liam Hunter likes me!’
Liam’s lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, all right, all right. Don’t get big-headed.’
I smiled wider. ‘But you like having my big head around.’
‘I should never have said that.’
I laughed and sipped my pint, trying to hide my smile.
Chapter Eighteen
My poor attempt to climb into Liam’s van exposed how tipsy I was. And that I’d signed up for Lydia’s hot yoga class in the morning. And that my filter had completely disappeared.
I’d drank a little more than I usually would, but the day had been a rollercoaster of emotions: excitement, joy, grief, and sadness, all punctuated by the warmth of Liam’s watchful gaze.
I’d grown self-conscious about my tipsy status by my fourth pint. It was ten o’clock, probably Liam’s bedtime, and he wasn’t drinking. Surely there was nothing worse than being around a load of drunk people when he was sober? But Liam seemed happy to sit there, watching everyone else chatter and laugh, sipping a Coke Zero.
Not Diet Coke – Coke Zero.
Sandra whispered that she had ordered it for Liam. ‘Don’t mention it. He’d only say I was making a fuss.’
I glanced his way to find him looking at both of us, sitting in one of the armchairs next to Jack, Lydia, and Freddie, chatting amongst themselves.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ he asked, a fake frown on his handsome face. Handsome – when had he got that handsome? His face was so… symmetrical. And masculine. His jaw was sharp and defined like it could cut glass. I wanted to rub my face in his five o’clock shadow. I made a mental note to call Willa and inform her of Liam’s attractiveness. She would want to know.
‘Nothing!’ I shouted back, grinning.
Sandra called last orders and kicked everyone out. Liam followed me out to the van. The heat of his hands brushed my lower back.
‘Do you judge people who do drink?’ I asked, shivering slightly. It was now eleven, so it was freezing. I couldn’t believe how much colder it was up here.
Liam leaned over and flipped on some switches, making heat blast out of the vents. ‘Better?’
‘Yeah, thanks,’ I murmured.
‘I don’t judge people who drink.’
‘Huh?’
‘I don’t judge people who drink.’
‘Why would you judge people who drink?’
‘You asked if I judge people who drink.’ His lips twitched.
‘Oh.’ I hiccupped. ‘Well, you probably should.’
‘Ah, don’t be daft.’ Liam was still smiling. His smile transformed his face. His features were usually so neutral and cool. He had a bit of a case of resting bitch face until he smiled, and it was like a switch flipped. His joy flowed across his features so easily when he wanted to. It was beautiful to watch.
‘You have a nice smile, you know,’ I slurred.
Sober Kat was banging her fists against a locked cage.
‘Thanks.’ Liam smiled wider. ‘You’re nice to me after a drink. That’s another thing to add to my list.’
‘Your list? What list?’
Liam laughed. ‘Nothing. You were talking about my smile.’
‘Yeah, it’s nice.’
‘You’re a lightweight.’
I pouted. ‘I know. It sucks.’
‘Probably ’cos you’re short.’
‘I am not short. I’m bang-on average. Average, average, average. Apart from my IQ, which I have been told is below average, which is nice, isn’t it?’ I hiccupped a laugh.
‘Do you want a rod?’
‘A what?’ I spluttered.
Liam kept his face deadpan. ‘A rod. For all that fishing you’re doing.’
It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out what Liam was on about. Then the penny dropped.
‘Oh, har, har. Very funny.’
Liam chuckled as he drove us through Everly Heath, the glow of the streetlights setting everything in an orange haze.
‘Stop,’ I shouted, throwing my hand on the dashboard. Liam came to a screeching halt.
‘What’s wrong?’ His eyes were wide, assessing the danger.
‘Can you pull in?’ I pointed to the car park.
I unclipped my belt and ran across the grass, searching.
‘Kat,’ Liam called. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I haven’t seen it yet. I should have seen it by now.’
‘Seen what?’
‘It’s around here somewhere. I just don’t know where.’ I squinted, trying to see the names on the graves in front of me.
‘Wait here.’ Liam returned a minute later with a torch and placed it in my hands. ‘You use this, and I’ll use my phone.’
‘You’ll help?’
‘Are you daft? Of course I’ll help. Let’s split up, and we’ll find him quicker.’
‘You shouldn’t have said that. That’s what you say before you get murdered.’
‘What?’ Liam frowned.
‘In the horror films.’
Liam chuckled. ‘It’s Everly Heath. The biggest crime here is the mystery thief who kept nicking Paul’s pears.’
Liam wandered off, shining his torch on each grave as he went.
‘Who is Paul? Why did someone steal his pears?’ I asked as I took the next row and kept searching.
‘The greengrocer. We found out it was the rabbits escaping from the pet shop next door. It was a mystery for weeks.’
I huffed. ‘This place is bizarre.’
‘Here, Kat,’ Liam said, his voice going soft. My heart leapt. I made my way to where Liam stood two rows behind me. I looked down at the epitaph. James ‘Jim’ Williams. Devoted son, brother, and father.
‘Devoted.’
Liam gave me a curious look. ‘Did you pick it? The words.’
‘No, I let Uncle Brian pick it.’ I rubbed my forehead. ‘Our relationship – if that’s what you could call it – well, it wouldn’t have fit on the granite.’
‘It sounds… complex,’ Liam said, his voice uneasy.
Was I making Liam uncomfortable?
‘Sorry, I’m drunk. A morose drunk, apparently.’
‘It’s fine, Kat.’ He said my name softly, almost reverent. It was nice to hear my actual name from his lips, not the nickname I’d become familiar with.
‘Tell me.’ Liam inched his hand around my arm. He placed his hand on my arm tentatively, reassuringly. We both ignored how I leaned into that touch, my head resting on his shoulder. And we both ignored how Liam’s arms tightened around me.
‘I’m fine.’
‘We’re a little past “fine”, don’t you think?’ Liam asked, and I turned up to see him looking down at me. He was right. He’d already seen me cry. He knew my family. It wasn’t like he was some random stranger asking me. He wasn’t just a builder I’d hired.
Liam was… more.
‘It’s so fucking complicated,’ I whispered, as if worried I’d wake the dead. ‘People say that grief is love with nowhere to go. But what happens to all the anger and longing and frustration or the crippling disappointment? Where does that all go? What happens when it’s not as simple as just “love”?’ I glanced down at the grave. ‘He left me again. And he didn’t even make it right before he left.’ My eyes began to burn. I took a deep breath, trying to hold myself together.
I didn’t want to fall apart for the second time tonight.
‘How do I make it stop?’ I sniffed. ‘Every time I think I’m over it, it all comes rushing back.’
The streetlamps from across the street illuminated Liam just enough to see the hard lines of his clenched jaw. His pinkie finger moved against my skin, back and forth. I could feel his reassuring warmth standing next to me.
‘I don’t know, Kat,’ Liam answered after a pause, his voice low. ‘I think you have to feel it all. It’s like a wound. It has to bleed to heal.’
‘I don’t want to feel it,’ I complained. ‘I want it gone.’
Liam huffed. ‘If it were that simple, everyone would do it. You can drink through it – I’ve tried that. You can suppress it for a while. But it will come back, and it will come back harder. And grief – grief is the trickiest of them all. It can hit you like a fucking train out of nowhere. A smell or a place sparks a memory, and that’s it – you’re in the trenches, just trying to climb out.’ He was looking ahead, his eyes soft with… sadness.
Pure sadness.
‘You lost someone too?’
‘I lost my mum when I was twelve. Breast cancer.’
I frowned. ‘But Dot mentioned –’
Liam looked away. ‘Dot doesn’t remember. She came to the funeral before she was diagnosed. But she doesn’t remember now. And it would be cruel for her to have to hear it again and again.’
‘I’m sorry.’
I couldn’t imagine losing someone that young. When I was that age, at least I knew my dad was alive, even if he was AWOL. Or did that make it worse? I wasn’t sure, but I knew we couldn’t have a ‘who had it worse’ contest.
‘It’s fine –’ Liam’s mouth shut quickly, but it was too late.
I raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought we were past “fine”. And that certainly doesn’t sound like feeling it.’
‘Have you heard of the phrase “do as I say, not as I do”?’
‘Hypocrite.’ I tutted.
We stood a little while longer, side by side. I figured the conversation was over and that, in a few seconds, we’d trail back to the van and go home.
