The Real Katie Lavender (40 page)

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Authors: Erica James

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BOOK: The Real Katie Lavender
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She had given him no real cause to think this was on the cards – their weekend together in Brighton had gone well, and all their subsequent conversations this week had been positive and fun – but he’d always been suspicious of anything that came too easily or felt too good to be true.

But as Dad often used to say, if it isn’t to be, then it isn’t to be. Better to have tried a thing and realized it wasn’t right than never to have been brave enough to take the step and spend the rest of your life wondering and regretting. It was why, and with his father’s help and encouragement, he’d started up his own business. Not once had he regretted the decision. But the advice now had a painfully disconcerting ring to it. His father should never have taken the steps he had in the last year or so.

In the car coming home from the hospital last night, Mum had asked him if he felt angry at all. She’d said that Cecily had asked her the same question earlier in the week when they’d been at Dad’s grave. ‘At times, yes,’ he’d said simply. ‘How about you?’

Without answering him, she’d said quietly, ‘I just wanted to check how you were feeling. That’s all.’

Sensing she was holding back, but not wanting to push her, he said, ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. But you must promise me something. If at any time you want to talk about Dad, if there’s something really upsetting you, you must tell me. Don’t keep it to yourself. It doesn’t matter what time of day or night it is, you pick up the phone and talk to me. Do you promise?’

She’d smiled sadly. ‘That’s the second time this week I’ve been asked to make a promise.’

‘Oh?’

‘Cecily made me promise to look out for Stirling when she’s no longer with us.’

What Lloyd found most alarming in what his mother had told him was that Granza was talking about not being around. He couldn’t think of a time when she’d spoken in such terms. He supposed that losing one of her sons, the natural order of things therefore defied, had made her morbidly consider her own demise. Maybe even wish it to come sooner rather than later.

But why was Granza so concerned about Stirling? Was it simply that Katie’s showing up out of the blue had thrown a spanner in the works of his marriage? Was that what she was so worried about? He’d seemed right enough last night at the hospital. But mothers, as his own often said, always had the heads-up on their children’s well-being. Pen had admitted last night that she had known very early on that there was something between him and Katie. ‘I probably knew it before either of you two did,’ she’d said with a small laugh. More seriously, she’d added, ‘Take care, though. It’s not going to be easy for you to make things work, bearing in mind the situation. There are going to be people who won’t be overjoyed at Katie being a fixture in your life.’

‘Katie and I both know that,’ he’d assured her, ‘which is why we’re being as discreet as we are. And who says anything about Katie being a fixture? She’ll soon see through my carefully polished act to the real me, and that will be that.’

‘Don’t be silly; she’ll see the real you and love you even more. Now, are you coming in for something to eat?’ He’d pulled into the drive and had parked in front of the house.

‘No thanks. Too much to do. I have a stack of VAT paperwork to wade through, and then I need to muck out the house ready for Katie tomorrow night.’

Kissing his cheek, she’d said, ‘It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Just enjoy the time together. Give her my best wishes and tell her to come and see me. Cecily as well. Or there’ll be hell to pay.’

Lloyd was just about to pour himself a second glass of wine when he heard a car outside. His heart bounced against his ribcage. OK, nice and calm. Nice and easy. This is no different to last weekend. That had gone perfectly well, hadn’t it? He smiled, thinking of Katie in bed with him in Brighton. Without any clothes. Just that lovely sexy body of hers lying next to his. He wondered if he would be considered a very poor host if he whisked his guest straight up to bed without offering her a welcome drink.

He quickly checked his reflection in the mirror by the front door – freshly shaved, hair still damp from the shower, best hole-free jeans and decent shirt on. Oh, and no sawdust in his ears. Definitely no sawdust.

He opened the door.

Oh hell!

Not Katie, but the last person on earth he expected to see.

‘Rosco. What brings you here?’ He couldn’t remember the last time his cousin had paid him a visit.

‘You left this at the hospital last night,’ Rosco replied. He held out Lloyd’s digital camera.

‘Thanks. I hadn’t even missed it. Thanks,’ he repeated.

A moment passed. A very awkward moment.

‘Aren’t you going to invite me in, then?’

‘Er . . . yes, of course. Sorry. I just assumed you’d be on your way somewhere.’

‘I am, but not until later. I’m meeting Laura.’

‘Oh, Laura. Right. She seems nice. Have you known her long?’

‘A few weeks. It’s a relatively new thing.’

They were now in the sitting room, and Lloyd watched anxiously as his cousin looked about him, taking in the lighted candles in the empty grate, the matching pair of coasters on the coffee table, and the bowls of olives and pistachio nuts. His gaze then returned to Lloyd, an eyebrow cocked. ‘Expecting company?’

Lloyd shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘I might be.’

‘Anyone I know?’

‘Not really,’ he said.


Not really?
’ Rosco echoed with a mocking tone. ‘That suggests there’s a possibility I might. Come on, Lloyd, who’s the lucky girl? Who are you hiding from me?’

‘I’m not hiding anyone,’ he said defensively.
Please, Katie
, he thought,
don’t turn up now. Be stuck in traffic. Be anywhere but here
.

‘So why the secrecy?’ Rosco asked. ‘Why the huge deal?’

‘It’s not me who’s making a huge deal out of it.’

Rosco laughed. ‘You should take a look at yourself in the mirror; your body language is giving you away big time. What have you done, phoned up Dial-a-Tart for the evening?’

‘What, and make do with your leftovers?’

‘Hey, I’m joking! Come on, why are so uptight?’

Same old Rosco, thought Lloyd. He never could leave well alone. It was a wonder he hadn’t won the Nobel Prize for Persistence. On and on he’d goad, prodding and poking until he’d got what he wanted. Usually a rise from his victim. Usually a feeling of having got the better of someone. Well, in this case, he might get more than he bargained for.

Rosco had goaded him. Check.

Rosco had riled him. Check.

But he hadn’t got the better of him. Not this time, because however cross Lloyd felt, it was nothing as to how Rosco was about to feel. Because as much as he wished it wasn’t going to happen, it was happening. From outside he could hear the unmistakable sound of a car coming to a stop, and unless his guess was way off the mark, he was damned sure that Katie was about to answer Rosco’s question for herself. He just hoped she was going to be able to handle what was likely to be a difficult situation.

‘That’s my guest,’ Lloyd said, playing it cool and tipping his head towards the hall. ‘I’ll go and let her in and you can meet her properly. I don’t believe you’ve had that pleasure yet. Oh, but wait, you have already, haven’t you, at Mum’s?’

Katie knew that Lloyd had someone with him because of the Range Rover parked outside his house, and so she took the precaution of dispensing with the X-rated entrance she’d been fantasizing over in the car all the way from Brighton.

‘Sorry,’ Lloyd whispered in her ear when he opened the door to her, ‘but Rosco’s sprung a surprise visit on me.’

Her heart sank. Putting a brave smile on her face, she prepared to play along and act as normally as she could. ‘Hi,’ she said, all breezy lightness and as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late.’

‘That’s OK,’ he said with the same artificial level of breeziness. Any breezier and the Met Office would be reporting strange localized winds blowing in the area. ‘Come on through, Rosco’s here.’

‘Oh, really?’ she said. She swallowed and stepped into the lion’s den. ‘Hi, Rosco,’ she greeted him. ‘It’s good to see you again. I hear you’re an uncle now. Congratulations.’

Rosco’s face said it all. His mouth opened, his eyes widened and he looked first at his cousin’s arm around her shoulders – clearly Lloyd wasn’t bothering with any kind of pretence – and then at her overnight bag, which Lloyd had taken from her. ‘I see,’ he said. He breathed in, then exhaled slowly. Katie had to stifle a sudden urge to laugh as she pictured him pawing the ground like a bull making ready to charge. ‘It seems as if the entire family is currently obsessed with secrets,’ he said.

‘It’s no secret that Katie and I have been seeing each other,’ Lloyd said. ‘My mother and Granza know about us. As does your father.’

Rosco’s expression hardened. ‘How long? How long has this been going on for? And doesn’t the whole cousin issue make a relationship between the two of you altogether inappropriate?’

‘Nice try, Rosco, but I would have thought you’d be the first to raise the spectre and stigma of me being adopted. As for our seeing each other, and to quote you earlier, it’s a relatively new thing.’

Make it end, thought Katie. She thrashed around inside her head trying to conjure up something helpful to say, something to defuse the situation. ‘How’s Scarlet?’ she asked. ‘Are she and the baby out of hospital yet?’

Rosco switched his gaze to her. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’

Lloyd dropped Katie’s bag and stepped forward. ‘Don’t you dare speak to Katie like that. Apologize and then go.’

‘I’ll go. But I shan’t apologize. In any case, it was a fair enough question. What has any of our business got to do with her?’

‘She’s a member of our family.’ Lloyd’s voice was low and controlled, but Katie could hear the depth of anger to it as surely as if he’d hurled a ton of raging abuse at his cousin. A muscle was ticking ominously in his tightly clenched jaw. He looked like he wanted to punch Rosco into next week.

Rosco shook his head. ‘She’s no more a member of the family than you are. The same was true of Uncle Neil, that so-called loser father of yours.’

Katie put a hand out to Lloyd, convinced that things were about to escalate to the point of a brawl. But she was wrong. Lloyd calmly took a step backwards and indicated the door and the hallway beyond. ‘Thank you for dropping by with my camera. Have a nice evening with Laura. I hope she has a thick skin; she’s going to need it to stay the course with you.’

Rosco opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. Instead he swept past them. Seconds later the front door slammed shut.

‘I’m sorry you had to witness that,’ Lloyd said tightly, his hands pushed into his pockets, his shoulders hunched. Katie could feel the tension vibrating off him.

‘I think I’m developing a serious case of hero worship,’ she said. ‘You were fierce.’

His expression grim, he said, ‘I wasn’t. I should have hit him.’

‘Not on my account. But maybe for your father’s. He crossed a line there. Another time and
I’ll
hit him.’

Lloyd’s face softened and a smile flickered across his handsome face. ‘I like you, you know. In fact, I like you a lot.’

She moved closer to him and linked her hands at the back of his neck and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘That’s good, because I like you. A lot. Was that a typical exchange between you and your cousin?’

‘It can be.’

She kissed him again. ‘I think I’ve heard quite enough about Rosco. Why don’t we start the evening all over again?’

‘Good idea.’

‘I’m full of them. Here’s another: why don’t you give me a guided tour, starting with upstairs?’

He smiled, and she felt him fully relax in her arms. ‘I like your thinking, Miss Lavender.’

Chapter Forty-four

With no sign of Mum’s car on the drive, Rosco ground his finger against the doorbell, keeping it there for a full twenty seconds. He wanted his father to be in no doubt how he felt. He pressed the doorbell again. And again.

Upstairs, having just changed out of his work suit, Stirling was on the phone. ‘I’m sorry but I’m going to have to go, there’s somebody at the door. I’ll speak to you tomorrow . . . No, I told you, I can’t see you again this week . . . It’s just not possible. And please, Simone, don’t ring me at home again. Look, I really must go; whoever’s at the door is about to break it down by the sound of it.’ He ended the call hurriedly, wishing he’d had the courage to finish things there and then. But Simone ringing him whilst he was at home had thrown him off stride. Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he would ring her and make things clear.

Alarmed by the insistent ringing at the door, he rushed downstairs to answer it, thanking God that Gina wasn’t at home, that she was visiting Scarlet. It didn’t bear thinking how she would have reacted to overhearing that conversation with Simone. Knowing he was going to be home late – he’d had a genuine meeting with a client lined up this evening – he’d suggested to her that she should go to the hospital without him. She hadn’t believed him. He’d seen it in her eyes. Suspicion. Suspicion that he didn’t have a client to meet, that he was having an affair. But he wasn’t. He hadn’t. Whatever had been going on between him and Simone – and he really wouldn’t call it an affair – it was over. The madness was over. Now if he could just sort things out with Gina, life would feel like it used to. Or something close to it.

‘I’m coming!’ he shouted when he’d reached the bottom step and the bell started being pumped again. He wrenched the door open. ‘Rosco! What the hell’s got into you?’

Rosco pushed past him. ‘I could ask the same of you, Dad. In fact, that’s exactly what I am going to do. I take it Mum’s not here?’

‘She’s visiting Scarlet.’ His alarm turning to fear, Stirling closed the door. ‘You look and sound like you need to calm down. Do you want something to drink?’

‘Don’t treat me like a child. I haven’t come here for a drink or to be patronized. I’ve come for the truth. Though I suspect you’ve lost all notion of what that means.’

Stirling’s fear multiplied. ‘If I had half an idea what’s bothering you,’ he said calmly, ‘I might be able to help you. Let’s go into the kitchen. Have you eaten yet? I was about to throw something together ready for when Mum gets back from the hospital.’

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