The Real Katie Lavender (29 page)

‘Sitting on the fence regarding the nature versus nurture debate, then?’

‘I wouldn’t say that, I . . .’ He broke off. ‘Is that your mobile?’

‘Sorry, yes.’

She bent down to her bag on the grass at the side of her chair and fished out her phone. ‘It’s my friend Tess,’ she said. ‘She can wait.’

‘No, go ahead. It’s fine.’

‘I’m busy,’ Katie greeted Tess, who she could scarcely hear above the eardrum-bursting racket of what sounded like a chainsaw hacking its way through sheet metal. She then remembered Tess and Ben were going to a gig in a pub in Brixton tonight to support a mate of Ben’s who played bass guitar in a newly put together band. ‘How super-annoying and inconsiderate of you to be busy,’ Tess yelled back at her.

‘Not as annoying or inconsiderate as you. I’m having dinner with my cousin.’

‘As in, Lloyd the Gorgeously Divine Cousin?’

Katie turned her head away from the table in the hope Lloyd wouldn’t hear Tess’s voice shrieking down the line as the band continued to kick up a storm. ‘Did you ring for any reason other than to deafen me?’

‘Hey, I’m ringing with glad tidings: expect the posse to arrive tomorrow. That’s me, Ben and Zac, in case you’ve forgotten your old friends.’

‘You’re really coming?’

‘You doubted me? I’m hurt.’

‘And I’m surprised and touched.’

‘Ah,
sweet
. Anyway, we’ll be saddling up after breakfast, whenever that is, and moseying into town around lunchtime. Save some cake for me. See you!’

Her mobile now switched off and back in her bag, Katie said, ‘You didn’t hear any of that, did you?’

The corners of Lloyd’s mouth twitched. ‘You mean apart from the bit about the gorgeously divine cousin?’

She fought back a colossal blush. ‘Tess always speaks like that. She works in PR.’

‘So are we Nightingales to be put under the microscope tomorrow?’

‘No more than I’ve been constantly under it.’

‘Touché. More wine?’

‘Please.’ She held out her glass, praying her deadpan expression wouldn’t slip.
Just wait till she got hold of Tess!

Another boat appeared and chugged slowly by. It wasn’t anything like the sleek craft they’d seen earlier. It was a noisy old tub of a boat with what seemed to be a shambolic lean-to affair tacked on the back with a plastic corrugated roof, through which poked a crooked chimney. A shaggy-haired man wearing a black and white spotted neckerchief was drinking from a can of beer whilst casually steering the boat one-handed. Sitting at the prow was a dog that looked so comically alert, Katie could almost have believed it was navigating for the man. For a moment the boat and its occupants were perfectly silhouetted against the sun, which was dropping low in the roseate sky. When they were no longer in sight, Katie said, ‘You wanted to ask me something earlier. What was it?’

He suddenly looked awkward. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt further up his arms, revealing tanned forearms and muscles that were absurdly well defined. She’d seen his arms before and had thought in passing how strong they looked, but sitting here like this, so close, she was observing them anew. And not in a good way. Oh dear God, not in a good way at all. She really had to get a grip on herself. This could not go on. But then she recalled the careful way he’d held her that morning when she’d been comforting him, and she felt a shameful longing to feel his arms wrapped around her again. Wrenching her gaze away, she glanced up to his face and found he was giving her one of his quietly unsettling looks. ‘Um . . . it’s this whole cousin thing,’ he said.

‘What about it? Don’t you like having a new cousin in your life?’ Oh hell, he’d guessed, hadn’t he? He knew that she was riddled with shamefully inappropriate thoughts about him and he wanted to make damned sure she stopped having them. Like the idiot she was, she’d given herself away with those stupid questions about whether or not he was seeing anybody. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Tess had then gone shooting her mouth off. She should never have told Tess about him. And she definitely should not have told her how hot he was.

‘What if I wasn’t your cousin?’ he said.

‘But you are.’

His blue eyes met her gaze with such an intensity, she held her breath. ‘Did you know that my father was adopted?’

‘No.’

‘So no one’s mentioned that to you? Not Cecily or Stirling?’

She shook her head.

‘And what about me being adopted; has anyone mentioned that to you?’

‘
You?
You’re adopted?’

‘So you see, we’re not cousins at all. We’re not the least bit related. Not in the sense of being blood-related.’

She let her breath out. ‘Does that mean I can’t call you Cousin Lloyd any more?’

‘It means a lot of things.’

It certainly does, she thought.

It was dark when they left the Riverside and started walking back to The Meadows.

Instead of retracing their steps on the road, Lloyd had assured her the moon was bright enough to light the way for them along the towpath, that they would be quite safe. He’d been right. The moon, so fat and round it looked too heavy to stay up in the star-pricked sky, illuminated the path like a theatrical effect. Katie was sure that without the silvery light, the darkness would have been complete. It was another world here, such a contrast to Brighton and London, where it was never truly dark. It was also eerily quiet, and she felt hyper-sensitively alert to everything around her, picking up on the slightest rustle in the undergrowth, the crack of a twig underfoot, even her own breath. She was aware too that the air, still and quiet and rich with the earthy smell of the riverbank, was thunderous with the silence between her and Lloyd.

Lloyd who was suddenly no longer her cousin.

His announcement should have had her cheering. But it hadn’t. From the moment he’d explained that they weren’t related, she hadn’t known how to be around him any more; she had become cripplingly self-conscious of her every word and gesture. She didn’t even trust herself to look at him properly.

The rest of the meal had been utter torment, with Katie unable to string more than two words together. He must have sensed the change in her – well, let’s face it, he’d have been hard-pressed to miss it – because he too had then struggled to find anything to talk about. And all the while, her head had been crammed full of questions about his adoption, none of which she could put into actual spoken words; it was as if she’d lost the power of speech. When he’d suggested they leave, she’d agreed only too readily.

Alone now on the towpath, following the gentle curve of the river, its slick surface shining like quicksilver, she was desperately trying to make sense of her reaction to what he’d said.

‘Katie?’ His voice cracked the stillness like a gun being fired.

She forced herself to reply, but kept her eyes steadfastly on the path. ‘Mm?’

‘You OK?’

‘Just thinking.’

‘Anything you want to share?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘You sound cross.’

‘I’m not cross.’

He slowed his step. ‘I am.’

She slowed as well. ‘Why?’

‘Because I’ve ruined the evening for us.’

‘No you haven’t.’

‘You’re a terrible liar.’ When she didn’t respond, he put a hand on her arm and came to a stop, making her do the same. ‘One minute we were having a fun evening, and then everything changed when I told you I wasn’t your cousin. You’ve been quiet ever since. And you haven’t looked at me either. Not once.’

‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’

‘I don’t believe you. I think you’re upset by what I said. Why won’t you look at me?’

She reluctantly raised her gaze. In the glowing light of the moon, she saw that the pallor of his face had acquired a luminosity that darkened his eyes, and in those liquid pools of darkness she could see that he looked completely wretched. Witnessing his misery – knowing she was the cause of it – she longed to put her arms around him, to kiss that pain away from his face. So why not do exactly that? She had done it this morning, hadn’t she? Not the kissing bit, obviously, but the arms bit she’d managed well enough. And now she knew they weren’t cousins, there was nothing wrong in the way she felt about him, was there? She could touch him with total impunity. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. And the stupid thing was, she didn’t know why. She felt so horribly confused.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Look, I told you what I did because I didn’t want there to be any ambiguity between us.’

‘Did you think there was before?’

He stared down at the ground. ‘For me there was. I can’t speak for you. All I wanted to do was to make things clear between us. I wanted clarity. It’s important to me.’

‘What kind of clarity are you talking about?’

‘The kind that says I don’t want you to think of me as your cousin.’ He looked up, and she heard a soft exhalation of breath escape from him. ‘The kind that says there are things I want to do with you that I can’t so long as you view me as a cousin.’

She stared back at him. And very slowly, as if the moon itself was shining a light on the jumble of her thoughts, she was no longer confused. ‘What sort of things?’ she murmured, her heart fluttering.

‘For starters, I’d like to kiss you.’

‘For starters,’ she repeated, unable to stop herself from smiling. He looked so very serious.

‘OK, you’re smiling. That’s a good sign, right? You’re not about to run off screaming into the night?’

Her smile widened and she started to laugh.

‘OK, laughing isn’t so good. When a girl laughs at a bloke, that’s usually a bad sign.’

‘Says who?’

‘Says every bloke who’s ever been turned down.’

‘I haven’t turned you down.’

‘But you’re about to. That’s a nervous laugh I’m hearing. It’s the sound of a girl trying to find the right words to say she doesn’t want to be kissed. Given the circumstances, who could blame you? I mean, this is all a bit left of field, one minute you think we’re related, and the next I’m coming on to you. It’s too bloody weird, isn’t it?’

‘You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said. She closed the gap between them and tilted her face up to his. ‘Lloyd, would you kiss me, please?
For starters
.’

He swallowed. ‘You’re sure you want me to? I don’t want you doing a fakey number on me out of sympathy. There’s only so much humiliation I can take.’

She reached for one of his hands, pulled it from his trouser pocket and kissed his palm. ‘I swear it won’t be a sympathy snog. It will be the real thing. I’ll put my every genuine feeling into it.’

His eyes stayed on her face. He put his hand to her cheek and with his other hand drew her closer still, then kissed her on the mouth. His lips were warm and soft and seemed instantly familiar to her. He kissed her for a very long time, his arms wrapped around her, his body pressed against hers. ‘No, don’t stop,’ she said when he eventually broke away.

‘I need oxygen,’ he said. ‘You’ve taken my breath away.’

‘And that’s just for starters,’ she said with a laugh.

He laughed too. Then suddenly they were both laughing hard. She had no idea why. She doubted he did either. They were laughing so hard they were leaning against each other for support. It was a moment of utter madness. But it felt good, as if all the tension of the last hour was being drawn out of her. Her sides aching, she straightened up and took a step backwards, only to miss her footing on something round and solid on the ground. In the time it took her to process the information that she was in danger of losing her balance, Lloyd’s weight had added to the momentum of her stumble and down they went. They landed with a thud in the long grass, with Lloyd lying on top of her. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked anxiously.

‘I think so,’ she gasped. ‘Just a bit winded. Better that than in the river and soaked to the skin. Do you knock all the girls off their feet when you kiss them?’

‘I promise you, you’re the first.’ He shifted his weight, but made no move to get up. Lying on his side, he smoothed her hair away from her face. ‘You’re sure you’re OK? Nothing broken?’

‘I’m fine. Really. What made you laugh?’

‘I don’t know. Everything just got to me.’

‘And is that what you do when things get too much? You laugh?’

‘It’s never happened before. Blame it on the full moon. Why were
you
laughing?’

‘I think it was the relief. I’ve been feeling so confused about you.’

‘The cousin thing?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, now we don’t need to worry about that, do we?’ He smiled and lowered his head until his lips were almost touching hers. He seemed to hover there for an age, his mouth so tantalizingly close, they were breathing the same air. When their lips met, he stroked her cheek, then her neck, sending shock waves of tingling desire running through her.

But their kissing was rudely interrupted by what sounded like a hippopotamus charging through the undergrowth. When a duck popped out from behind a bush on the riverbank, they both laughed. ‘I didn’t think ducks were nocturnal creatures,’ Katie remarked after it had given them no more than a cursory glance and waddled off.

‘Perhaps he’s on his way to a late-night assignation,’ Lloyd said, ‘or returning home from one.’

‘Do you think we ought be going?’

‘No. Let’s stay here and talk. Unless you’re cold?’

‘Not at all. I could stay here all night.’

He smiled and rolled on to his back, his right hand holding her left. They lay in companionable silence on the soft, dry grass, gazing up at the sky, where the moon and stars felt close enough to touch. It was such a perfect night.

‘I’m glad you got rid of all that ambiguity,’ Katie said.

He squeezed her hand. ‘Me too. It was driving me crazy. I realized after meeting you down in Brighton that I had to make things clear, but adoption isn’t something I generally talk about when I meet someone for the first time. “Oh hi, I’m Lloyd and I’m adopted.” How creepy would that be? And I know I asked you earlier if anyone had told you about it, or about Dad being adopted, but I didn’t really think Mum or Cecily or Stirling would have mentioned it. Again, it’s just not something that comes up in casual conversation. Unless you’re Rosco, and feel the need to drive the point home. But that’s a different matter altogether. And then you seemed so pleased to have a cousin – an actual proper relative – and I was worried you’d be disappointed if I took that away from you.’