Love You Better (9 page)

‘Why didn’t you tell me you worked together?’

She heaved a silent sigh. She’d known from his reaction at the dinner table that he’d bring it up sooner or later.

‘Well,’ she said, keeping her eyes closed, ‘you heard what he was like. I didn’t want you to think badly of me for having friends who were mixed up in that stuff.’

‘Fair enough. Besides, maybe it’s time to find new friends. Ones who aren’t so caught up in drugs. It’s a bit juvenile.’

She fought to keep the frown from her face at his apparently short-term memory. It was only just on New Year’s Eve that he’d been shovelling cocaine up his nose.

‘But from now on, no secrets, okay?’ Oliver continued.

Effie nodded. Her stomach turned. Smith’s past wasn’t the only reason she’d kept the truth about them working together to herself, but the fact that Smith still somehow seemed to be able to
provoke
an emotional reaction from her was something she couldn’t bring herself to say. For the first time, she was keeping a secret from Oliver, but something told her that in this case, honesty probably wasn’t the best policy. Still, he’d asked for no secrets, and she promised herself that from that moment on, she wouldn’t hide anything from him.

‘Hopefully, we won’t have to see him so much when we meet up with Lou and Mickey. I mean, it’s a bit uncomfortable for me to have your ex constantly hanging around,’ Oliver said, turning to face her and draping an arm across her waist. ‘Besides, it’s probably a bit weird for him too.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, you’re not with him now.’

‘Nope.’ Effie sighed and closed her eyes. Even knowing that he was a little jealous of Smith, he was still being considerate, and she loved him for it. ‘I have you.’

The next evening, Effie stood in Lou’s bedroom, with Rihanna
belting
out a song from the tiny stereo.

‘Why don’t you leave your hair out?’ Lou asked.

‘Because it’s blowing a gale outside and I’ll end up with an Afro,’ Effie replied, standing in front of the mirror as she fixed a hairpin into her quiff.

Lou nudged her out of the way to apply some mascara. ‘Okay, but you look like you’ve just stepped off a catwalk, and I look like I’m showcasing the best of Peckham Market. What are you wearing anyway? Prada?’

‘River Island and Zara, actually.’ Effie sighed and sat on the bed. ‘So, last night was interesting.’

‘I’ll say,’ Lou replied, looking at her through the mirror. ‘You bringing up Keisha was a bit of a shock.’

Effie scowled at the name. Keisha. She was the girl who Smith had cheated on her with and ended up in a whole heap of mess over. ‘I didn’t mean to. It just came out.’

‘I know you said you don’t have feelings for Smith, but I’ve got to tell you, the way you’re acting says different. The way you were with him last night, putting him down, bringing up Keisha . . .’

‘That’s because he makes me angry.’ Effie wiped her clammy hands on her jeans.

‘I’m not saying he doesn’t get under your skin, because he obviously does. We can all see that. But Olly’s not stupid, and it’s not fair on him to see you react like that with Smith. You don’t want him to think something’s going on.’

Effie shook her head and looked in the mirror, smoothing her already perfect hair. ‘He won’t think that, because nothing
is
go
ing on
.’

‘Are you sure? If you promise me that you don’t have any
feelings
for Smith, then I won’t mention it again.’

Effie took a moment to think about it all. So she hadn’t told Oliver about them working together, and she’d brought up the mess Smith had got himself into last summer, but was it any
wonder
? She’d been close to Smith, and he’d nearly died out of sheer
stupidity
, not to mention betraying her. She was allowed to be angry with him for that, and of course she wasn’t going to tell her barrister husband
that sh
e was working with a friend who was a one-time criminal. Maybe she did have some feelings for Smith, even if they were mostly bad, but that was natural. She’d been in love with him, and it was
impossible
to completely switch herself off, but she was sure that eventually she’d be able to look at him and not feel
anything at a
ll.

‘I don’t have feelings for Smith.’

Why would she still be in love with Smith when she had everything she ever wanted with Oliver? Oliver had said he couldn’t see what she’d seen in Smith the night before, and the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if he’d been right. He might not have liked Smith, but he’d still been perfectly polite and friendly, whereas Smith had taken digs at Oliver whenever he could. Knowing that he was slightly jealous only made her love Oliver more. Smith had never displayed jealousy when other guys had shown an interest in her. But then again, why would he have? They’d never really been together in the first place.

‘If you say so. I just needed to check. I was worried you were on a road you wouldn’t be able to come back from after last night, but now I’m relieved. That’s one guy that’ll never change, and I’d hate for you to do something stupid.’

‘There’s no danger of that happening,’ Effie replied. ‘I’m happy with Olly. Really happy.’

‘Good. One of us has to be.’ Lou sighed.

Effie frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh, come on. You saw what happened with Mickey last night. Talk about embarrassing.’

‘I wouldn’t say it was embarrassing exactly,’ Effie replied.
It was
n’t really a lie. The situation itself wasn’t embarrassing, but she felt it on Lou’s behalf.

Lou sniffed and turned back to the mirror.

‘Are you crying? You never cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’ She sniffed again and dragged a brush through her hair for a few seconds before swearing and throwing it on the bed. ‘What he said last night . . . I felt so stupid.’

‘Why?’

‘Because everything’s changing apart from me. You’re married, Smith’s found himself a good job and a nice flat, and me . . .’

Lou sat next to her and Effie shook her head as she rubbed her best friend’s back. ‘And you?’

‘I’m going nowhere,’ she replied, dropping her hands. ‘I’m in exactly the same place I was in a year ago.’

‘That’s not true.’ Effie shook her head. ‘You’ve got a great job, you’ve got Mickey.’

Lou scoffed. ‘I hate my job, and as for Mickey? You heard what he said.’

‘He said he didn’t think you were into marriage, which is true. Isn’t it?’

‘It used to be. After Mum and Dad divorced, I swore I wouldn’t go through that, but seeing you and Olly on your wedding day made me think differently.’

‘So maybe he just needs time to catch up,’ Effie reasoned.

‘No, he doesn’t.’ A tear rolled down Lou’s cheek. ‘That’s what he likes about me, that I don’t go gaga over wedding dresses and diamond rings. I’ve always insisted I wasn’t bothered about the whole marriage and kids thing because I’m all about fun, fun, fun.’ She waved her hands around her head. ‘I didn’t even mean to say
anything
about our hypothetical honeymoon – it just slipped out. But now it feels like he’s looking at me as if I’ve duped him, like I’m trying to trap him into something he doesn’t want.’

Effie opened her mouth to reply, but what could she say?

‘I feel like I’m being left behind,’ Lou said in a tiny voice, and her shoulders drooped. ‘I mean, there you are with a guy who bends over backwards to do nice things for you, and here I am with a guy who has to be poked and prodded just to make a cup of tea. I don’t want to simply coast along, but what’s killing me is that I think he does. I don’t think we want the same things anymore.’

Effie sighed and kissed the side of Lou’s head. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

She’d never seen Lou look so lost before. It was horrible seeing her so upset, and Effie had to swallow against the sympathy tears clogging up her throat.

‘I’m sorry,’ Effie said. ‘I’ve been going on about my house, the wedding and honeymoon. I didn’t realise.’

She didn’t doubt that Lou was happy for her, but it must have been hard watching Effie get everything Lou wanted when she was feeling so low.

‘It’s not your fault. I’m super happy that you’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted; it’s just making me think about what it is that
I
want,’ Lou replied, wiping her eyes with the tips of her little fingers. She blew out a long breath and shook her head. ‘I don’t want to ruin the holiday.’

‘You’re not ruining anything,’ Effie said, squeezing Lou’s
shoulder
. ‘I just wish you’d said something sooner.’

‘Whatever.’ Lou flashed her a quick, unconvincing smile. It was rare for her to really open up about her feelings, and seemingly she was keen to push them back into their box. ‘We’re in Ireland, and we’re together. I’m sure all this will still be here in the morning, so let’s just go out, have fun and forget about it for one night.’

Effie nodded and hugged her. ‘If that’s what you want.’

‘It is. But I have to warn you: I’m probably going to get smashed with this mood I’m in.’

Early the next morning, sunlight streamed through a tiny slit between the curtains directly onto Effie’s face, and she squinted as she slowly prised her eyes open. Her mobile lay next to her head and she looked at it, her face scrunching in disgust. Why was she awake at seven in the morning, especially when she’d only gone to bed three hours ago? And why, oh why, had she taken that last shot of tequila? Just thinking about it made her stomach roll over. Lou wasn’t the only one who’d got wasted.

Oliver snored with his back to her. He’d been on top form, making everyone laugh and generally being the most charming man in the room, even with Smith. She smiled and turned to cuddle him, grateful for his presence in her hung-over state. She needed to go back to sleep. The last thing she wanted was to be awake for the onslaught of the hangover that was already brewing, but as she
buried
her head into his back, she almost gagged at the whisky fumes seeping from his skin.

She turned away and lay on her back, trying desperately to fall asleep again, but the smell of whisky was overpowering. She sighed, threw back the covers and pulled on a pair of leggings before padding into the kitchen. As she stood in front of the kettle, waiting for it to boil, she massaged her temples, pressing her fingers into her skin as hard as she could.

‘You look about as rough as I feel,’ Smith croaked.

She turned around to see him looking at her over the back of the sofa. ‘And you look like death. What are you doing there?’

‘Haven’t got a clue. I must’ve decided my room was too far. You making a brew?’

‘Yep. Want one?’

He nodded. ‘Three sugars, please.’

She remembered perfectly well how he took his tea, but as he flopped back down on the sofa, she realised that, for the first time since he’d come back, the sight of him hadn’t filled her with nervous, angry energy. Maybe it was the hangover, or maybe his coming to Ireland with them had actually been a good idea. She poured the steaming water into the mugs. That was it – she must be starting to get used to having him around again. Maybe he wasn’t a threat to her at all. Ever since Oliver had told her he’d guessed about her history with Smith, she’d been on tenterhooks about every move Smith made. She didn’t want Oliver to be jealous, because as far as she was concerned, there was nothing for him to be jealous of. It turned out she needn’t have worried. So far, Smith was sticking to his word and accepting what she’d said.

She put the milk back in the fridge as Smith stood up.

Oh, dear god.

The tattoos on his arms had been added to since he’d left, and now wound around his ribcage. The slightly raised, pale scar from the operation to repair his punctured lung after his attack was worked into the cranium of a skull composed entirely of small dots. As he yawned, stretching his arms out wide behind him and arching his back, his taut abs rippled, and before she even realised what she was doing, she followed the trail of brown hair sneaking from his belly button into his boxers with her eyes.