Fix Them Up, page 27
‘Two months. We come back together in two months,’ Liam said. ‘But no contact.’
My heart lurched.
‘Liam—’ I started, but he interrupted.
‘Kat, I won’t be able to stay away if we’re speaking every day. It will make it so much more painful knowing you’re only three hours away. Ren was right. I’d drive down south to see you for twenty minutes. He needs me here. I owe him that, like you feel like you owe Willa. Two months, no contact, and we’ll come back together. What do you say, Red?’
‘I hate it.’
‘Me too.’ He kissed my temple. ‘But I’ve looked at this a million different ways, and this is the only thing I can think of.’
I hummed.
‘In two months… if you still aren’t sure about us. If you change your mind—’ Liam’s shoulder tensed, like the idea made him recoil. ‘Don’t come back, Kat. Don’t get my hopes up. If I see you standing in front of me, just to see you leave again. I don’t think I’d recover from that.’
‘I’m coming back, Liam.’
He kissed me again, this time, my cheeks, my eyelids, and my forehead. Tender, soft kisses that took away the sting of my tears.
‘I’ve said my bit.’
‘I’m going to miss you,’ I whispered.
I pressed myself into Liam’s chest, inhaling him, squeezing him tight.
‘I’m going to miss you too, Red.’
His hands were in my hair, his lips on my forehead.
‘Come back to me.’
I left the next morning, creeping out of the annexe so I wouldn’t wake Liam, who was sound asleep, lightly snoring with his hand over his eyes. On his kitchen island, I left a note and a USB that I knew contained a ridiculous number of files.
As promised, for HBC & Lily’s. Don’t invite nosy designers into your home if you don’t want them to redesign every aspect of your life – Red x
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Six Weeks, Four Days and Nine Hours Later
Kat’s To-Do List
Quotes for moving companies
Clean out room at Mum & Graham’s
Draft job description for Willa
Pay the last instalments for Dad’s house
Gifts from London for Abi??
Reply to Sandra
Do not text Liam
‘Kat.’ I heard a voice, but it was miles away. My attention was fixed on the logo of Organism, a computer software company. Something about the logo was off, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
The all-male company was often referred to as ‘orgasm’, so the logo needed to be formal and masculine. Nothing that hinted at sex toys. No bright colours. Essentially, boring as fuck, like the snooze-worthy onboarding call Willa and I sat through with their team. Clients like Organism would have had me itching my skin a few months ago, and Willa would have put them with Clara or Kieran. But things had deteriorated over the last few months. Willa’s dad had got involved in the business in an attempt to save it. Clara and Kieran had been made redundant. I took a voluntary pay cut that Willa reluctantly agreed to – a clear sign things were much worse than she’d let on when she visited Everly Heath.
On the outside, Willa seemed fine. Her dresses and pencil skirts were immaculate. Her tone with demanding clients was formal and professional. But I knew her better. She’d started going to Elias’s most nights. I’d go with her when I could, and she’d drink a bottle of wine, stumbling out to call a cab to her apartment in Soho. The next morning, there were no signs of her hangover, apart from the condensation of her Diet Coke on her desk.
I’d tried to speak to her about it, but she shut me down, and Willa didn’t like to be pushed.
We were both relieved when Organism signed the contract for twenty grand for a complete rebrand. And for her, I would do the work. Smile at clients. Get it finished on time. And I promised to celebrate with her at Elias’s, even though the thought of crowded bars and sticky floors made me feel ill. It made me think of my auntie’s smiling face, ugly patterned carpets and Liam’s gaze on me.
But for Willa, I would go and smile and sip champagne.
Besides.
It was my last week at Horizon.
One week, and I’d go back home.
‘Kat.’ The feminine voice was louder now, so I pulled off my headphones. Willa was standing next to me, a look of concern on her symmetrical face. Her eyebrows pinched. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
I looked up at her. ‘What’s up?’
Willa pointed a pink nail to my screen. ‘You’ve been looking at the screen for five hours straight.’
‘And?’
‘You haven’t looked up, tried to make a cup of coffee and failed three times. Nothing.’
I shrugged. ‘I want to get this done for you.’
‘Who are you, and what have you done with Kat Williams?’ Willa said it dryly, but I knew she was hiding her concern under the joke.
I smiled. ‘Still here, Wills.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t want you working yourself to the bone for me, you know. You need to tell me if you’re working all hours. I don’t care if it’s your last week.’
‘I know, I know. God, you’re such a mother hen sometimes.’
Willa rolled her eyes. ‘Someone has to be.’
Sometimes, I wished someone would swoop in and look after Willa for once. I kept that thought to myself because god knows she wouldn’t let me do that.
Willa wiggled her Best Boss mug I’d bought her for Christmas last year in my face. ‘I’m making a coffee. Do you want anything?’
I nodded. ‘A brew would be nice, ta.’
Willa raised an eyebrow. ‘A brew.’
‘Tea. Tea would be nice.’
I checked my phone. The timer read seven days, three hours, and forty-five minutes left. I thought of deep brown eyes, wide shoulders, and insufferable smirks. I thought of the smell of tree sap and petrichor. I thought of Lydia’s dirty laugh and the smile lines by Brian’s eyes.
One week, and I could get back to Liam.
*
The following week, Willa and I took a short walk across our office to Elias’s. It was as buzzy as usual for a Thursday night. Apparently, nothing had changed in London but me. The cold air conditioning of the bar made me shiver, and the sound of the blonde woman’s laughter behind me was piercing. Even Elias’s had lost its shine.
Willa pushed us through the crowd towards two barstools with signs hooked on the metal bars. One said Evil Witch, and the other, Old Hag. Elias had bought them as a joke one Halloween. ‘Something to keep your seats reserved, ladies,’ he’d said with a too-white smile.
Usually, Willa and I argued over who got the old hag seat, but today, I slipped into it.
A strangled noise had me looking up to find Elias staring at me wide-eyed. Elias had olive skin and cropped dark hair. His shirts were unbuttoned far too low, showing off a muscular, hairless chest.
‘What the fuck –’ he said, a slight accent lingering from his upbringing in Greece til he was fifteen – ‘happened to you?’
I frowned, my eyes flickering between Willa and Elias, who shared knowing looks.
I raised my hands. ‘I’m fine! I don’t know what your problem is. Either of you.’
‘You look terrible.’ Elias grimaced. ‘Your skin is so pale. You have bags under your eyes. You look –’ He clicked his tongue. ‘Dead.’
‘Dead,’ I repeated hysterically.
‘Elias,’ Willa chided. ‘She doesn’t look dead.’
I raised a hand. ‘Thank you.’
‘She looks dug up.’ Willa took a sip of the champagne Elias placed in front of us. My mouth fell open as I turned to my so-called best friend.
I made a noise in my throat. ‘Pot, kettle, bitch.’
Willa pointedly looked away, and Elias gave an amused whistle as he turned, opened a bottle of prosecco, and artfully handled six flutes in one hand.
‘Elias’s right,’ Willa said after a moment. ‘We’re going through it.’
‘I think you’ll find he said I look like shit, not you.’
‘Trust me, under this make-up, I look like shit.’
I touched her knee. ‘Wills, let’s talk about it. It might make you feel better.’
Willa gave an acute shake of her head. ‘No. I can’t right now.’ I deflated, and Willa turned to me. ‘I will when I’m ready, Kat. I promise.’
I squeezed her knee. ‘Good.’
Willa and I turned to watch Elias shake up a margarita. His biceps flexed, and Willa threw an olive in her mouth as she openly ogled him.
‘Willa.’ I smiled for the first time in weeks. ‘You are incorrigible.’
‘He knows what he looks like. And I know he isn’t exactly batting for my team.’
I hummed and glanced behind us. Aidan sat in a booth on his own. His hair was floppier than usual, as if freshly shampooed. Our eyes met, and he looked down and pushed up his thick-framed glasses to inspect the menu.
‘Aidan is sat over there.’
Willa stiffened but made a nonchalant hum. ‘He comes here every Thursday.’
‘To see you?’ I teased.
Willa huffed. ‘I seriously doubt it. We are not friends.’
‘I don’t think he wants to be friends, Willa,’ I said in a sing-song voice.
‘Ridiculous,’ Willa said, sipping her drink. ‘We’ve been rivals since we were kids. It’s always a battle of how he can win. By now, he’s probably heard from his dad about –’ Willa couldn’t even say her own business name out loud. That was how ashamed she was of how things had gone. ‘He’s probably here to rub it in.’
I glanced back over and found that Aidan was gone.
‘He’s gone.’
‘Who cares about Aidan? We’re here to celebrate our client win, baby!’ Willa said, knocking the rest of her champagne back. ‘Elias, another, please!’ she shouted across the bar.
Willa turned to me. ‘I’m going to miss you so much.’
I bit my lip and told her the thought that had haunted me for two months. ‘What if he’s moved on, Willa? It’s been weeks, and we haven’t spoken. We only knew each other a few weeks, for god’s sake. I miss him so much, but it also feels like a dream now I’m back here. I’ve wanted to call him a million times, but he asked me not to. So what if I go back and see him and it’s not the same? Or he laughs and says he didn’t mean it. Or he is seeing someone new? I wouldn’t blame him.’
I would blame myself.
Willa whistled, shook her head, and thanked Elias as he placed two full champagne flutes in front of us. Mine was still half-full. ‘The man is in love with you. You made a dramatic, romantic pact. And apart from the whole no-contact thing, he is sickeningly good at communication. You think he’s going to forget about you in two months?’
‘I don’t know.’ I held my hands. ‘No one has ever been in love with me. I don’t know how quickly someone can move on.’
Willa swivelled the barstool and clasped my head in her hands.
‘I don’t do soppy. So I will say this once, and I want you to hear it. I love you,’ Willa said. ‘And it would take me longer than two months to get over you, I promise.’
My chest warmed. ‘It is so freaky when you’re soppy.’
Willa grinned and let my head go. ‘I know. You need to go back, Kat. Don’t chicken out.’ After a while, I turned. Her cool blue eyes were watching me. ‘You’re miserable. I can see it. Anyone can.’
‘I miss him so much.’ I groaned. ‘But I don’t even know what the plan is supposed to be. Do I rock up on the day and say hello? We never planned how this is supposed to happen, and now I’m spiralling.’
‘Kat. Listen to yourself.’ Willa sighed. ‘You’re in a position most people would kill for. You have a man waiting for you. A man who adores you so much that he let you go so you could sort your baggage. Well, my baggage, I guess. I can’t even dream up a man that well-adjusted.’ She gulped her drink. ‘Trust me, before I swore off all male kind, I tried.’
I bit my lip. Willa was right.
‘However, we need to talk about what you’re going to do about your mum.’
I groaned. ‘I don’t know, Wills. We’re barely talking. At first, I tried to talk to her, to convince her. But now, I’ve accepted I need to move without her approval.’
Willa nodded. ‘Good. Let her sweat a bit. The only way she’ll start to respect your word is when you start living by it. If you keep flaking on your plans because she puts you down – it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.’
I nodded. I thought about all the plans that had deflated with a word from Mum. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’
‘I’m always right. Go home, tell your mum you’re moving to Everly Heath and don’t let your mum convince you out of it. Did you just get déjà vu?’ Willa pointed to her glossy lips. ‘Oh yeah, that’s ’cos I’ve told you this shit before.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The Tube was stuffy, and my throat felt tight as a bloke played the accordion, and I stood next to the armpit of a man with some serious body odour issues. Everything was too loud and hot and smelly. Overstimulated, I changed onto the Elizabeth line to Reading, which smelt moderately better. At the other end, I jumped into a cab, preparing for a lecture from Mum about wasting money.
But this time, I had a response.
I wasn’t a fuck up.
I was a grown-ass woman. I was capable and creative.
I was more than her low expectations of me. I was capable and creative. I repeated the words like they were my morning affirmations. I might even paint it on my mirror in red lipstick.
I tipped the cab driver, pushed open the creaking gate and walked up the weeded path to Mum and Graham’s Victorian terrace. Next door, our neighbours, Will and Patrick, were watching reruns of Gogglebox. I’d spoken to them twice in my entire life and not given it a second thought. After two months in Everly Heath, that was bizarre to me.
I tiptoed into the house, placed my keys in the bowl and tried to kick off my shoes without making any noise. Mum and Graham would be in bed by nine, and it was ten thirty. I’d been at the bar later than I’d planned with Willa, and while I wasn’t drunk, I was definitely tipsy. Willa and I had planned what I would say to Mum tomorrow. I was leaving in two weeks.
Willa kept repeating the same point – they were welcome to visit, but I wouldn’t accept any negativity at all. By the end of the first bottle of champagne, Willa role-played Mum. She aced the flat look Mum gave me when she was disappointed. As Willa wagged her finger, and we both burst into laughter, Elias watched on and shook his head as he wiped down the bar. Elias usually let us stay later when leftover handbags and empty pint glasses littered the tables.
‘In here, Katherine,’ Mum said, and I froze like a teenager caught climbing through the window after dark.
I corrected myself, repeating my affirmations. I held my head high as I walked past the front room, which had become colder and dustier since I left. I strode into the little galley kitchen at the back of the house, trying to emulate how Willa walked around the office in her pencil skirt.
‘Hello,’ I said, opening my mouth to apologise for my late arrival, but I snapped my mouth shut.
Graham and Mum sat at the wooden kitchen table we used for breakfasts and lunches. The orangey wooden kitchen cabinets were cosy, making the room feel smaller. Graham was a full head taller than Mum, even seated. Their hands were cupped around steaming mugs of tea on the faded polka-dot tablecloth.
We’d had it since I was twelve.
Before I’d left, I thought Mum and Graham’s house was charming and eclectic. Now, everything was thrown into a new light. It was a mausoleum. I wanted to throw open the windows and let some breeze in. I wanted to donate all the crap they held onto. Stupid trinkets Mum was curating, all items holding her back from doing what she wanted to do – travelling the world.
‘Sit down, Kat,’ Graham said, and panic rose in my throat.
‘What’s happened?’ My brain searched for some kind of catastrophic event. Dad was already dead. Oh god, was it cancer?
‘Nothing bad,’ Graham said with one of his soft, reassuring smiles. I never understood how Graham and Mum worked together. She was so prickly and unrelenting, and he was so soft and pliant. Maybe that’s why they worked.
I pulled back the chair, suddenly conscious of my alcohol breath and how the room was slightly spinning.
‘We want to talk to you about Everly Heath,’ Graham said, and surprisingly, Mum didn’t bristle like she usually did at the mention of the town.
I sat up straight. ‘You aren’t persuading me to stay here. I told you from the beginning that I was going back. I needed this time to make sure everything was sorted with Willa.’
And with you, I wanted to say.
I wanted to shout that Liam and I agreed that I hadn’t returned here with my tail between my legs. I wasn’t going to have my mind changed.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about Liam for weeks. Each morning was a brutal reminder when I rolled over, searching for him. The dreams were the worst – they taunted me with moments of Liam in the kitchen, kissing me. A blend of memories. I missed waking up next to him, his scent around me, the weight of his arm across me. I missed the tree-lined walk to the club and, most worryingly, Ray, the jazz singer and his polyester waistcoat. I missed laughing with Lydia and Sandra at the club. I even missed the light sheen of rain on my face on the walk home.
‘We know, Kat,’ Graham said, glancing at Mum. ‘And we’ve had some… discussions about your move. Mum and I didn’t agree at first.’ Graham reached over to pat Mum’s hand, and Mum’s head nodded an inch. ‘I think it would be good for you to have a fresh start somewhere new. And this chap of yours –’ Graham paused.
‘Liam.’
‘Yes, Liam. Well, you mention him so often, so I suppose you are rather attached to the chap.’
My lips twitched. ‘I am.’
I’d been trying to recreate some of Liam’s recipes at home for Mum and Graham. I never got them right, but each one got better, and I loved mentioning his name at the dinner table. I revelled in the way Mum’s eye twitched. I didn’t give a fuck what she thought anymore. Just mentioning Liam’s cooking and Lily’s made me feel like I hadn’t dreamt him up. He was real. And I’d be back soon.
