All Mine (The All Mine Series), page 24
‘Michelle Carter,’ the woman in headphones said, introducing herself as she shook Isabella’s hand. ‘Regional television news.’ The cameraman caught up, shielding his eyes to choose a good aspect.
‘Love what you’ve done here,’ Michelle said. ‘We’d like to record a piece for the evening news.’
Isabella flushed and touched her hair. As if she had anything to worry about. She’d look beautiful getting out of bed in the morning. Probably especially getting out of bed in the morning. Wait, why was he thinking about that now?
‘If we film from here,’ the cameraman said, indicating an angle, ‘we can get the queue behind you and then pan round to show what’s happening inside the tent.’
‘Perfect,’ Michelle agreed. ‘Then we’ll do some pieces to camera from the people with spare rooms, and those who need to stay with them.’
Isabella clutched Etienne’s forearm and he saw the panic cross her face.
‘You’ll be fine,’ he said quietly.
She moved a few steps away from the media team who were busy setting up, pulling him with her.
‘We had to do practice interviews at university as part of my business marketing degree, and I . . .’
Her hand on his arm was shaking. Etienne had a weird urge to hug her again.
‘What happened?’
‘I froze when they asked me a question. Not once, but twice. They pointed the microphone at me and I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I was like a goldfish looking for air.’ She closed her eyes at the memory.
‘What was the interview about?’
‘What difference does that make?’ She frowned. ‘It was just awful.’
He waited and after a second, she huffed and answered.
‘It was a scenario, a made-up thing, where we had to defend our business that had been accused of flouting employment laws.’
He took her hand and was surprised at how perfectly it fit into his own, her small delicate one enfolded in his.
‘This is different,’ Etienne said. ‘Totally different. You’re going to tell them how happy you are to be able to help your community. How much you love it here. How great it is to see the residents of Heart of Honeybridge going to family homes until things are sorted out.’
She didn’t say anything. She was still looking at his hand.
‘Plus, you are amazing. You can do anything you set your mind to. You’ve proven that already with Tutto Mio.’ Still nothing. It was as though she were hypnotised.
‘Isabella?’
She lifted her face and it had a new kind of nervousness on it. Hope. If the camera caught that look, she was going to be the best interview they ever got.
‘Would you do it with me?’ she whispered, squeezing his hand between them. ‘You were the first one to take Fred in.’
Etienne pulled a face and she laughed.
‘You’ll be fine,’ she repeated back at him. ‘You don’t even have to say anything if you don’t want to. Just stand with me.’ She squeezed his hand again and he found himself looking at it this time. ‘Please.’
‘Okay,’ he said and she beamed.
‘Then later, maybe I could buy you a drink?’ she said unexpectedly. She opened her mouth to say something else, but then closed it again. She gave no excuses, or reasons. She left the invitation out there, hanging between them.
Her eyes were looking directly into his and he realised he was still holding her hand. His thumb ran over her knuckles.
He thought about his evening ahead and realised there was nothing he would rather do than spend it with her.
‘I’m buying the second round,’ he said, and her mouth curved into a smile and Etienne had a realisation like a punch in the face. He had feelings. Ones that he couldn’t control. Ones that fluttered in his stomach like a romance novel. Ones that made him want to see her, even without any non-sex. Ones that made him want to, right now, not let go of her hand.
‘We’re ready for you,’ Michelle Carter called and Isabella waved in acknowledgement. They walked over together, hands joined.
Isabella quickly updated Michelle on Etienne’s part in the process and she was happy to ‘add more colour’ to the story. The cameraman positioned them where he wanted them and still Etienne was holding her hand.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Isabella
Isabella’s heart was flapping like a trapped butterfly in her chest. But it had nothing to do with the cameraman pointing his lens at her, or Michelle preparing to ask the first question. It was all due to the fact that Etienne was holding her hand. Every now and then his thumb smoothed over her skin or he tightened his grip, but he hadn’t let go.
She’d seen something in his face, she knew it. That had been a true-life, real romance moment that they had shared. More than just a pep talk, or him trying to give her confidence. And he was still holding her hand. Surely, if they were just friends, he would have dropped it as soon as she agreed to do the interview?
And they were going for a drink. Okay, maybe just a friendly drink. A drink to celebrate the day. A drink to relax after the interview. They’d been for drinks before, in a group, and obviously for karaoke, but this time she had asked him simply because she didn’t want him to leave. She wanted to spend the evening with him and he had said yes. And he was still holding her hand.
Michelle Carter moved into position and counted them in. Etienne moved fractionally closer, and she could feel the touch of his elbow on her arm.
‘This is Isabella Tucci,’ said Michelle in her ‘on air’ voice, ‘the person behind the campaign for Spare Room Sleepover, created to come to the rescue of the elderly residents of Heart of Honeybridge, which suffered a serious fire earlier this morning. How did you come up with the idea, Isabella?’
She thrust the fluffy microphone towards Isabella. Etienne squeezed her hand encouragingly and she felt the smile stretching her cheeks as she answered. This time, she didn’t freeze and she wasn’t shy. She was happier in that moment than she could remember being for months – maybe ever.
‘It just came to me,’ she said. ‘I’m lucky enough to live with my own grandmother and thought that a lot of other people would love to do the same – have an honorary grandparent come to stay, even if it’s just for a few days.’
‘The council tells us that fifty-nine residents have already been matched for home stays,’ Michelle said. ‘How do you feel about that?’
‘It’s fantastic news,’ said Isabella. ‘Because every resident we match will have a home environment to recover in, and they can be part of a family, which is so important.’
‘And this is Etienne Martin,’ Michelle said, turning towards him. ‘The first person to take in one of the residents. How did that happen, Mr Martin?’
‘It was an easy decision,’ said Etienne. ‘I would class Fred Barrow as a friend of mine, so it seemed natural to ask him to come home with me until all this is sorted.’
Isabella watched him speak and bet that every woman watching this section on the news would be salivating on their sofas. And, out of shot of camera, he was still holding her hand.
‘Is this normal for Honeybridge?’ Michelle asked, indicating the queue of people waiting to sign up to the scheme. ‘This level of community spirit?’
All the sides of the community that Isabella had experienced in the last three months rushed through her head. From karaoke at The Bolthole to Story Stars with Rosie and Wren, the Italian lessons to the fundraiser and the market on the square.
‘Definitely,’ she said, glancing at Etienne, who nodded in agreement. ‘We wouldn’t live anywhere else, would we?’
‘Have you lived here long then?’ Michelle asked and Isabella recognised an opportunity when it was presented to her. After all, she did have a marketing degree.
‘Not that long, just long enough to set up a new restaurant. It’s called Tutto Mio. It’s all family recipes – Italian meatballs – and we open this weekend.’ She turned away from Michelle and looked straight down the lens of the camera. ‘Everyone’s welcome!’
‘And cut,’ said Michelle, taking her headphones off and checking with the cameraman to make sure he was happy. He finished reviewing the footage and then gave her a thumbs up.
‘That was perfect, thanks,’ Michelle said, carefully winding her microphone wire up. ‘It will probably go out tonight unless something else happens nationally to push it out. But if not tonight, then tomorrow night.’
‘Sorry about the promotion at the end.’ Isabella laughed, not sorry at all. ‘I couldn’t help myself.’
‘No worries,’ said Michelle. ‘Those kinds of things normally get edited out, but I’ll see what I can do.’ She winked.
‘Isabella, can I get some shots of you walking by the queue? And then a few in the tent?’ the cameraman asked.
She let her fingers squeeze Etienne’s one more time, saying, ‘See you after for that drink.’
He nodded and squeezed back. ‘Told you you’d be brilliant. You’re amazing.’
The burst of emotion almost brought tears to her eyes. She reluctantly let go of his hand and followed the cameraman, fighting the urge with every step to skip and laugh out loud like a five-year-old. Giving in to looking over her shoulder as they got to the queue, she saw Etienne lifting the phone to his ear and turning away to talk.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Etienne
Etienne was watching Isabella walk away – admiring her bum as usual − when his phone rang. Alex’s name on his screen grabbed his attention.
‘You okay?’ he asked reflexively as he pressed green.
‘I’m okay,’ Alex replied and Etienne wondered when they would be free of those first questions. When they might be able to relax and simply say hello.
‘Got any news?’
‘I have a location,’ Alex said. ‘It’s an old farm building in Shentford. I’ve had a look on Google Maps. It’s quite remote.’
Dread flooded through Etienne.
‘I’m coming too,’ said Etienne. ‘And so are Fox and Walker. We’ll wait somewhere nearby—’
‘You can’t,’ Alex cut in.
‘They won’t know we’re there. It’s so that we can get to you if needs be . . .’
‘No. I just need you to help with the money. Nothing else. Especially now.’
‘What do you mean?’
Alex fell silent, and Etienne watched the cameraman trailing Isabella along the queue. People were smiling and waving to be on the television; Isabella was laughing.
‘What do you mean, Al?’ he repeated.
‘They know who you are, Et,’ he said quietly, and Etienne covered his other ear to hear better. ‘Not only that I have a brother. They know who you are.’
‘What? How?’
‘Old Man Dougall saw you, at Mum and Dad’s grave. He thought you were me, that I’d dyed my hair in some kind of disguise, an attempt to change my looks.’
Etienne realised how hard he was clutching the phone and tried to relax his grip. It was true, he and Alex looked similar although they were not identical. There were differences you would see and know if you saw them together. The colour of their hair was the most obvious. Alex had blue eyes, Etienne green. Their jaws were different, the shape of their nose. Alex looked somehow softer than Etienne. But their build and height were the same – or had been last time he’d seen him. They were easily confused if seen separately, and from a distance.
‘He couldn’t believe his eyes apparently. Thought I’d walked straight into his day. Then he heard you being called Etienne by whoever you were with. And after you’d gone, he checked the grave. It says beloved parents of Alex and Etienne Martin. So, he figured it out and told the brothers. They know your name, Et.’
Images of the graveyard flicked through his mind. Isabella calling him to point out the robin. The old man who walked past.
‘I can’t believe he was there at the same time as you. Apparently, all he does these days is watch television and visit his wife in the cemetery. Of all the chances . . .’
Etienne’s brain was going in a million different directions at once. They knew his name. Etienne Martin was quite an unusual name. Memorable. So, they could easily find him if they wanted to. He shook himself, tried to think calmly.
Why would the Dougalls want anything to do with him? It was Alex they had the problem with. If the debt was paid – which it would be in a matter of days – they had no reason to need to pay Etienne a visit. It was only if Alex didn’t pay the money back for any reason that they might come looking. He swallowed. Fox’s face resurfaced in his mind, the concerned look on his face as he asked, ‘So you’re going to give fifty thousand pounds to a gambler?’ He squashed the thought as quickly as it appeared. He trusted Alex, one hundred per cent.
‘It doesn’t make any difference, though, does it? We stick to the plan. I still transfer the money to you. You pay them off. You come home.’
‘They told me I’m not calling the shots. And to remember that.’ Alex’s voice had a tremor in it again. ‘Then they told me they knew about you. It felt like a direct threat.’
Etienne’s skin crawled.
‘Who were you with, Et? At the graveyard?’
‘Isabella. A . . . friend.’ He stumbled over the word; it didn’t sit right. He wasn’t sure what to call her, but it wouldn’t be a friend. He watched her as she walked back across the park towards him. When she saw him looking, her face lit up. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because they commented on it. After they said about knowing you. They said, “His wife’s a looker.”’
Etienne felt his breath stop. Isabella was pulled into the crowd by the bandstand to watch Jayden breakdance.
‘I don’t like it, Et,’ Alex said.
‘Me neither,’ said Etienne, watching Isabella applaud Jayden spinning on his head, and it felt like the understatement of the century. The thought of someone threatening Isabella was like a blow to the stomach. It changed everything. ‘Call me if you hear anything else.’
As he hung up, his jaw hurt as he realised how hard he’d been clenching his teeth. He watched Isabella laughing and clapping along and knew he couldn’t put her at risk. Him being in danger was one thing, but he would not bring her into it. And the only way he could do that was to make sure she was nowhere near him, ever. All he wanted to do was spend time with her, but he had to stay away – to protect her. To make sure she was safe.
Isabella fist bumped Jayden and waved to the others. He heard them calling ‘Ciao’ after her as she turned away, her eyes immediately seeking Etienne out, searching for him. When she spotted him, she lifted a hand, her mouth already curving upwards. But she must have seen something on his face, something in his expression that made her falter. She slowed in her step, suddenly uncertain, as she stood before him.
‘Ready for that drink then?’ she said, but even the tone of her voice was different, hopeful but hesitant.
He made his face hard, hating himself as he did it.
‘I can’t,’ he said and his voice was flat, harsher than he’d intended. She blinked.
‘Oh,’ Isabella said, momentarily searching for words, the confusion clear on her face. ‘Has something come up? I saw you on the phone.’
‘Yes, something came up,’ Etienne said, wanting to take her by the hand again, and pull her closer, to shield her from what he was about to say. Instead, he looked her in the eye and said it anyway. ‘A better offer.’
She flinched. A flush started on her neck, blooming there as quickly as if he’d slapped her. Her eyes widened and then she blinked, and he thought for one awful moment she might cry.
‘Come on, Isabella, this was only ever about the sex. Or non-sex, actually,’ he said, the words dripping with sarcasm as if the whole idea was ridiculous. ‘It’s never going to be more than that.’
She turned her face away. By the way her throat was moving, he knew she was trying to swallow down a sob. But she held her ground; he wanted to hold her tight and tell her he was sorry. Instead, he thought of the Dougalls, letting his mind dwell on the words His wife’s a looker. He steeled himself and knew he was doing the right thing. Even if it didn’t feel like it. She had to stay away.
‘You’ve made that crystal clear now, thanks,’ she said and he had to admire her voice. It didn’t crack or break. She looked him straight in the face as that flush crept up her throat and flooded her cheeks. ‘My mistake. See you around, Etienne.’ She even tried a smile and he felt something physically break inside himself.
As she huddled into her coat and walked away, it was all he could do to stop from running after her.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Isabella
Isabella didn’t know how she managed to get home without breaking down. She stumbled tear-blind through the park, and then almost ran home to the safety of her own front door, which she closed behind her with a relief so strong she thought she would fall to the ground.
Nonna believed her when she said she was sick; Isabella let her think maybe it was food poisoning. Amber told her that if she had food poisoning, she should stay out of the restaurant and look after herself. Which gave her the perfect excuse to shut her bedroom door and block the world out. Lying down on her bed, she didn’t know how she would ever get up again.
How could she have got it so wrong?
She and Etienne had had a moment, she knew it. She’d bet her entire restaurant on the fact that something had passed between them. She knew he felt it too.
The thing was, she’d let herself go with it. She’d believed it to the extent that it seemed like the beginning of something. She’d been so ready to think his feelings might match hers. That he might be falling for her the way she was for him. Because that’s what it was for her. She knew that now. Full-blown, life-changing, heartbreaking love. She was in love with Etienne Martin. And for a blissful, exciting few minutes, she had fooled herself into believing he felt the same. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She should have known that her feelings were never matched.
With Daniel, she had loved him and believed he loved her. She had been loyal, and trusted he was the same. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
