Cadence of My Heart (11 page)

Marlee pays for the ten minute taxi fare on her personal credit card, so that their little excursion to Milford-on-Sea might remain concealed from the Ashlocks. They’d never approve of Cadence meeting her family, which is precisely why none of her relatives have ever been invited to spend time at Neverleigh, and why visits have to be conducted only when Cadence is occupied elsewhere.

The reason? Because the Meeks family are working class folk, and Cadence has been instructed not to mingle outside of her own social group. Such interaction might detrimentally blur the dividing line between their two very different worlds. Heaven forbid.

In fact, Cadence has been so shut off from the realities of life that Marlee wonders how she’ll react to the tiny former council house they’re about to visit. Will it seem strange to her that an entire family can live in a box not much bigger than Neverleigh’s grand entrance hallway? Will she laugh and offend someone accidentally? Will she feel uncomfortable? Cadence is used to space—emotionally and physically—and that’s not something you’ll ever find in the Meeks household, where everyone is always rubbing shoulders.

Nervous, Marlee stands on the curb in front of a red brick house at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, holding Cadence’s hand. The front garden is well-tended, the flower beds weeded, the grass kept short, and the front door has a fresh coat of white paint. Somewhere nearby, children are playing. Seagulls are squawking, fighting over the day-old, discarded leftovers of someone’s fish and chips. The smell of fish pervades, someone in the cul-de-sac having recently gutted a fresh catch.

She looks down at her clothes, wondering if she picked the right outfit: deliberately faded jeans; white, low cut camisole; a loose cotton shirt, buttoned halfway. She wanted to look nice, but not fancy. Why had she put on such expensive shoes? She wiggles her toes inside a pair of black, patent leather stilettos—the same ones she wore last night.

Shoes are her one weakness. She likes the way a nice pair of high heels makes her feel—feminine and sexy—and she likes the way Cadence admires them on her. Cadence herself doesn’t own any, and once sprained her ankle while trying to walk in a pair she pilfered from Marlee’s room.

Today, as most days, she’s wearing canvas athletics, raggedy jeans, and a motif t-shirt that proclaims her undying devotion to some band Marlee’s never heard of. She hides her family’s money well. She didn’t even brush her hair this morning after she washed it, she just scrunched it up into a messy ponytail. She looks beautiful. Carelessly and effortlessly beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, Marlee leads them down the garden path—literally—and rings the doorbell. As she does, Cadence gives her hand a comforting squeeze. Is her anxiety really that apparent? How silly, she thinks. This is her home, not Buckingham Palace!

She steals a peck on the lips. “I love you.”

The kiss is thrilling. Not because it’s erotic, or passionate in any way, but simply because it’s outdoors. Someone could see! For the briefest of moments, Marlee feels as though she’s in a normal relationship.

When the door opens, it’s a small boy who answers. He appears to be about six years old, wearing baggy thrift store shorts that he’ll probably grow into a year from now, and a plain t-shirt that’s covered in dirt and grass stains. With hazel eyes and a thick mop of blonde hair, he definitely looks like a Meeks, but rather embarrassingly, Marlee doesn’t immediately recognize him. He could be her nephew, or he could be some random neighborhood boy who’s being paid to help her father do some work in the garden.

“Edward?” she asks tentatively.

The young boy cocks his head, narrows his eyes, and scrutinizes her for a few moments, wondering how he knows this stranger. Then, a lightning bolt strikes.

“Auntie Lee!”

Forgetting to invite them inside, he darts back into the house, squealing excitedly and calling for his mother. “Mumma! Mumma! Auntie Lee’s come home!”

Grinning, Marlee steps indoors, pulling a reluctant Cadence with her.

“Come on, my girl.” She tugs her young lover’s arm. “It’s all right.”

She has to coax Cadence into the hallway like an unwilling horse, knowing that, for her, this is where the culture shock begins. In her world, no-one would ever just walk into another’s house—even family. You’d have to wait to be greeted on the doorstep, and then be formally invited inside. The distinct lack of ceremony is undoubtedly disconcerting.

Once in, the entrance hallway presents the next learning curve. It’s small and narrow, with an overfilled coat rack on the wall and a disorganized pile of shoes on the floor. Marlee kicks off her high heels and discards them on the pile, encouraging Cadence to do the same.

“It’s polite to do so,” she explains, Cadence being unaware of the custom.

As they make their way into the living room, the young boy drags a blonde-haired woman in from the back garden, insisting that Auntie Lee is at the door.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eddie,” the woman grumbles. “You know full well that Aunt Marlee can’t leave—” She cuts herself off when she looks up and sees Marlee standing in the living room. “Oh, my good gracious!”

“I told ya!” Eddie sticks his tongue out at her.

The woman clips his ear lightly. “Enough of your lip. Go fetch your grammy and grampa.” She sends him away, then dashes at Marlee with a bear hug. “Sissy!”

Marlee drops Cadence’s hand to hug her sister back, and Cadence blends into the background, more than happy to stand aside and watch this reunion unfold before her.

There’s a clear family resemblance. The woman, while a handful of years younger than Marlee, has the same face shape and the same eyes. Her hair’s a lighter shade, but she has Marlee’s lips and cheek bones. In a short, halter neck dress, it’s quite apparent that she also has Marlee’s figure.

A few seconds later, a heavy-set, gray-haired man in trousers, suspenders, a wife-beater t-shirt, and a tweed flat cap enters the room. He’s covered with dirt, sweat coating his brow, and as his pale, weak eyes fall upon Marlee, he beams a smile that reveals two missing teeth.

“Well, I bloody never!” He takes the flat cap off his head, wipes his brow with it, then puts it back in place.

He’s followed by his wife, Marlee’s mother, who’s second in line to give Marlee a warm welcome.

“Oh, my dearest.” She pulls Marlee into her skinny arms. “I didn’t expect to see you back here for another twelve months or thereabouts.”

Twelve months from now, if the Ashlocks have their way, Cadence will be engaged.

Twelve months from now, Marlee will almost certainly be unemployed.

The reminder hurts.

Marlee’s mother is gray-haired and frail. She looks like a twig draped in fabric, her homemade, ankle-length dress faded from so many washes. She peers at the slight young girl standing sheepishly behind her eldest daughter.

“Who’s your friend, dear?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. How rude!” Smiling so much her face hurts, Marlee takes Cadence by the hand and pulls her to the center of the room. “This gorgeous young thing is Cadence. Cadence Ashlock.”

In a heartbeat, the atmosphere in the room changes. Smiles drop, replaced by shock. Every Meeks in the room—including the little one—stands up straight, and they show respect by dipping their heads slightly, all eye contact lost.

Mister Meeks swipes the cap off his head. “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss.”

Marlee’s mother is immediately flustered, and attempts to perform a little curtsey without really knowing how to go about it. “An Ashlock in my little house? Well, I never!” She almost trips on her own ankles and grabs hold of a chair back for support.

The display of deference makes Cadence feel decidedly awkward.

“Oh … umm …” At a loss, she looks up at Marlee for help. “Make them stop.”

“There’s no need for all this nonsense. Really truly,” Marlee assures them. “You don’t need to stand on ceremony with Cady. She’s an Ashlock in name only, and you should treat her no different from me.”

Marlee’s sister recovers herself first.

“I’m Isla.” She holds her hand out. “Marlee’s little sister.”

Cadence thinks they’re going to shake hands, but once Isla has a hold, she doesn’t let go.

“This is my son, Edward.” She points to the little boy, starting to lead Cadence toward the back garden. “Now I really hope you like lemonade. I just made a fresh batch.”

After several hours of much needed catching up, with Cadence happily spilling fond memories of the last two and a half years spent with Marlee, giving the Meeks family a hitherto unseen glimpse into the very private relationship they’ve shared during this time, conversation starts to flow easily from one topic to another.

They discuss Mister Meeks’ work in the garden, which has him covered in dirt, and Cadence learns how to grow potatoes. Then, she’s quizzed by Isla on what it’s like to attend a posh private school, and whether or not the boys are any hotter there than at state school. In answer, Cadence says that she’s not really interested in boys, then flashes Marlee a coy smile. If anyone suspects anything, they don’t say.

Later, while Cadence kicks a ball around the garden with Eddie, Marlee and Isla sit together on a swing seat, rocking idly back and forth, chatting over more glasses of lemonade. Every now and again, Cadence glances over at Marlee, just to share a smile.

“How old is she now?” Isla enquires.

“She just turned sixteen.” Marlee doesn’t take her eyes off Cadence.

Having played lacrosse for years, Cadence is fit and agile, her body used to physical exertion and sport. She’s energetic, with bucket loads of stamina, barely breaking a sweat despite the rising summer sun.

“And how long have you been in love with her?” Isla asks next.

Marlee feels her heart plummet to the pit of her stomach. How does Isla know? What had she done to give it away? Had she said the wrong thing? Or touched Cadence in the wrong way? This is something she’s been fearing in the back of her mind: growing too comfortable with the inappropriate closeness between them and slipping up in front of others. Has it happened already? In only a few days.