Spiralling Skywards: Falling (Contradictions #1) (26 page)

My words spilled out, my frustration obvious in my tone and what did he do, my so called mate? He grinned. The cheeky fucker grinned at me.

“She’s not running around with anyone.”

“Nah, so why’s his car been outside her house four times over the past ten days?”

Fuck me I sounded like a stalker.

“They’re mates. They’ve been out for dinner and to see a film, but she told him she wants nothing more than friendship.”

“Yet.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t want anything more than friendship just
yet
, but she will eventually, and he’ll be there to help her move on. She won’t even acknowledge my existence.”

“You lied to her. You fucking lied. What d’you expect?”

“A second chance?”

He drained his drink.

“Sarah doesn’t trust easily. She trusted you. You lied. Twice. You’re just gonna have to work harder and play dirtier than he does to win her back, and you need to start by regaining her trust.”

“How. I can’t get fucking near her.”

“I don’t fucking know, Del. I’m not getting involved. Like she told me, she’s twenty-two and a big girl that can look after herself. What I will tell you is the same as I told Will—you hurt her, and I’ll come for you.”

I didn’t know what to do. I’d no clue how to find a way back to her, and that left me feeling as frustrated as fuck.

“How can I hurt her when I can’t even get fucking near her? All I can do right now is sit at home while Will goes sniffing round there every night.”

I sounded desperate. My new roll in life was that of a sad, lonely, desperate stalker. I might as well buy myself a cat, or ten.

“Watch your fucking mouth. That’s my little sister you’re talking about. No one will be sniffing round her.”

“Yes, I know. Your little sister happens to be the girl I love. Do you have any idea how it makes me feel seeing her coming and going every night with him? Seeing his car parked outside her house, wondering what they’re getting up to inside.”

Yep, definitely a stalker.

I’d stood up and paced behind my desk.

“You need to calm the fuck down and listen to what I’m saying. They’re getting up to nothing. They’ve both told me that she just wants to be friends.”

He topped up both our drinks.

“Come to mine for Christmas. Be nice to her. Let her know that you’re a good bloke, not a lying, cheating, devious arsehole.”

“Why have I got to prove all that to her when Will can just rock up and take her to the cinema and for dinner?”

“Because Will didn’t fucking lie to her. You did. Fuck me, Del, what part of this are you not getting? You lied. You got caught. You’ve got to earn her trust again.”

“How? How do I even do that?” I was shouting again. Luke just glared. I felt like a child, fuck, I was behaving like one too, but I didn’t care. I hated how I felt. I hated this whole situation.

“That’s for you to work out.”

He sipped his drink and looked over his glass at me.

“Look, I’ve said more than I should, so I’ll add this then shut up. She’s miserable. She says she’s doing fine, but I know my sister better than anyone, and I know she’s sad. She changes the subject or leaves the room every time your name is even mentioned.”

“Great. That makes me feel a million times better.”

He let out a long exhale, displaying his own frustration as he shook his head.

“Stop behaving like a pussy. Leave her alone these next few weeks, come over and spend Christmas with us, and try to talk to her then.”

I made sort of a grunting sound, still behaving like a child and sipped my drink.

“So is that a yes?”

“What fucking choice do I have?”

“You can always sit at home and pull crackers with Shaino out there. Maybe throw some prawns on the barbie and crack open a VB.”

“You’re a complete cunt sometimes, d’ya know that?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Cunts are useful, so I’ll take that as a compliment. Is that a yes or a yes?”

I glared. “Petulant Brat” was my new middle name. I’d seen my nieces in action, so I knew how that shit worked.

“What? Can’t hear you.”

“Yes. Fucking yes, all right?”

This would be my final shot at winning her back. I couldn’t carry on the way that I was. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t focus. I would give up the flat too. Seeing her coming and going without being a part of her life was killing me and if this split was permanent, I’d move. In just one month that girl had me falling head first in love with her, but as much as it would hurt to let her go, if Will was who she wanted, I’d do it. I’d go ahead with my original plans of getting things set up here, and then I would just go back to Australia and make a life there.

“Good, I’ll text ya later and tell you what your contribution to dinner will be and to let you who you draw in the Kris Kringle.”

“Great, can’t fucking wait.” Yep. Child. A sarcastic, Drambuie-drinking child with stalker tendencies.

My brother’s house
was very similar to the one that I’d gone to view with Liam, and I wondered on the drive over there if Liam had gone through with the purchase.

We’d been in each other’s company only twice since I’d ended things with him almost a month ago, both times at the pub when, luckily, there was a crowd of us, so it didn’t make things too awkward. I didn’t ignore him. I just didn’t engage him in any kind of conversation. Will was also there the first time we all went out and had pissed me off by being overly touchy feely with me. I knew he was just trying to garner a reaction from Liam, and a very small spiteful piece of me wanted to do the same. Then I remembered how he’d looked getting into his car the night he’d seen Will kiss my forehead outside my house. It was just a simple peck but it probably looked worse from his angle and he’d looked devastated, and I didn’t want to do that to him. I knew only too well how that felt.

I’d threatened Will that if he did anything like it again, our friendship would be over. Thankfully, he was busy at work the following week and didn’t make it to our weekly pub night. He’d apologised and things had proceeded along the same between us, him incessantly flirting, me wishing that he stirred something more than a little desire inside me. He was hot, and I was flattered, but there just wasn’t that spark that I’d felt with Liam. I knew there never would be.

I’d promised Will I’d let him know if I was sure that there’d never be anything more than friendship between us, and I had every intention of doing just that, the problem was, it was now the day before Christmas Eve and telling him then didn’t seem like a very nice thing to do.

The only other communication I’d had with Liam was a text message. It was sent late the same night he’d seen me with Will on my doorstep. I’d cried myself to sleep, and the vibration of my phone had woken me around midnight. I’d debated opening it, but in the end decided not to, just in case it was him telling me what a double-standard little whore I was. I already knew that and didn’t need it spelled out to me. I’d felt bad enough already, so I went back to sleep. I ignored it the next day too, and every day since. It was like a little challenge to myself. By not opening that text message, I somehow proved I was doing fine and moving on.

I’d gotten my period the week after the weekend that I won’t talk about, and definitely don’t think about over and over . . . and over again. In no way whatsoever was I ready for a baby, but I’d felt both elated and devastated at the same time when I’d woken in the night to the familiar cramping in my belly. For a brief moment, when I’d looked down at the spots of blood in my knickers, I felt like I’d once again lost and Olivia had won. She had everything. She had him, and she had his baby. I had a broken heart and period fucking pain.

***

Christmas Eve fell on a Monday that year, having that Sunday before all of the crazy began was like a day to draw breath after the weeks of build-up. Luke had warned me that Liam would be joining us, so I was sort of prepared to be in his company. My anger towards him had dissipated over the weeks, my heart still hurt and despite only being together a month, I missed his company but I was surviving, I’d get by.

Sasha was having lunch with her parents and would arrive later in the evening. Having that extra day was nice, instead of rushing around manically on Christmas Eve, the day would be spent chilling with all of my favourite people.

Lunch that year would include myself, Luke, Will, Liam, Shain, Sasha, and Callum, an old school friend of my brother’s. Sitting at the dinner table with both Liam and Will was not something I was looking forward to and I just hoped that everyone would be on their best behaviour.

I’d drawn Shain in the Kris Kringle. The budget we set was one hundred pounds, it sounded a lot, but it barely covered the cost of some perfumes or aftershaves, and some years, it was the only decent present we got.

Despite not knowing him personally, the fact that I knew he was from Aus made it easy for me to decide on an Armani scarf as Shain’s gift. I picked it up at an outlet store and it fit the budget.

I still had the scarf of Liam’s I’d been wearing on the weekend we won’t mention. It most definitely had never found its way under my pillow, and it would be ridiculous to even suggest that on occasion I may have sniffed it, worn it and cuddled it, but anyway, yeah. Shain was Australian, he was bound to be feeling the cold, so a scarf it was.

Despite the Kris Kringle, I still bought extra gifts for Sasha, Luke, Will, and at the very last minute, Liam, too. I didn’t want to make things awkward, so it was nothing too personal.

I was the first to arrive at Luke’s. I’d helped him tidy the house and make up the beds in the two spare bedrooms. We’d then polished off a bottle of red as a treat for all our hard work. Luke had gone all out and bought a real Christmas tree, which was impressively decorated with ribbons, bows, and baubles, nothing sparkly or tinselly in sight. He switched on the clear white lights that were woven through the branches and stood aside, looking very proud of himself.

“Oh wow. I love it, Luke, it’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, took me hours.” He shrugged.

He headed over to the fireplace and knelt down in front of it. When he turned and looked up from where he was building a fire.

“You didn’t decorate it, did you?”

He tilted his head to the side and smiled.

“Sunshine. Do I look like Laurence Llewelyn fucking Bowen? Of course I didn’t decorate it. I gave Lizzie the keys to this place and a few hours off Thursday morning after I saw what a great job she did decorating the office.”

I felt a little put out. I was always the one to decorate the tree at our grandparents’ place.

“I would’ve done it.”

“I know you would have.” He blew on the newspapers he’d twisted up and lit. They were set under the wood and coal in the reclaimed wrought iron fireplace he’d added to the room when he’d renovated. The open fire was one of the reasons I loved coming here.

“So why didn’t you ask me?”

“Pick up your bottom lip and stop sulking. I wanted to surprise you. You did the tree every year at Nan’s. I haven’t been here for the last few Christmases, so I thought I’d get a proper tree and decorate it nice for you.”

He sat back on his knees and stared into the fire as the lit paper began to burn and the first flames took hold of the wood.

I suddenly felt emotional. He’d had the tree decorated exactly the way I would’ve done it.

“Well she did a beautiful job, thank you. I love it.”

Luke was, and always would be, my hero. I worried sometimes when I was growing up that the way I worshipped him wasn’t normal. I’d grown paranoid that maybe I had a crush on my own brother, but it was nothing like that. He’d just been the one true constant in my life. My grandad was too old to be a father figure, so it was Luke that I idolised growing up. I still did.

“I’m glad you’re home for Christmas this year. I’ve missed you.”

He stood and brushed his hands down his jeans.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. I was barefoot and felt tiny up against his six-foot-four frame.

“I know travelling and working abroad was a dream come true for you Luke and I’m glad you got to do it, but the selfish side of me is so glad that you’re here, especially this year.”

He kissed the top of my head and I let out a long breath, one that it felt like I’d been holding in for weeks. I was hurting, but I hadn’t realised exactly how much until that moment. Until I was wrapped in the safety of my big brother’s arms.

“When I left, I wasn’t leaving you, Sunshine. I need you to know that.”

I had my ear pressed against his lower chest and could hear his words rumble through him.

“I do know that. I’ve never thought that you did.”

He let out a long breath.

“And I never meant to stay away for so long. I never planned it that way.”

I looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking down at me, he was looking at the fire.

“I’ve never thought for a minute that you deliberately stayed away, but after everything that happened with Mel, I sort of got why you didn’t come back.”

I watched as he shook his head.

“It wasn’t even about her really. I was just . . .”

He finally looked down at me.

“I love you, I’d lie down my life for you, you know that right?”

My eyes filled with tears and my throat felt tight, all I could do was nod.

“I wouldn’t change anything about our lives. I don’t want you thinking I wished things were different, because I don’t. I just, I had to get away. I needed to travel, to go and do something for me. My entire life up until that point had been spent looking after other people.”

He brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb.

“I’d looked after mum from the moment I was of an age to realise she needed to be looked after. Then I looked after you pretty much from the moment she brought you home from the hospital.”

We rarely talked about the time before our mother’s death. It was as if our childhoods didn’t begin until we moved in with our grandparents. It was easy for me to forget Luke was around eleven by then.

“I had to make a choice. She was an adult, a fucking grown up, and you . . .”

He scratched at the top of his head, it wasn’t itchy, not really. I knew he was just trying to get his words in order.

“You were this little tiny, innocent baby. I had no choice really. I was seven years old, about to turn eight, I tried to look after both of you for a little while, but I couldn’t do it. I tried to look after her, to make sure she ate and showered, and I tried to make sure that you were fed and changed. I gave you baths, and I put clean clothes on you.”

He laughed through his tears, although there was nothing funny in what he was saying, nothing at all. He was a child, a little boy. He’d stepped up and done the job that our father, an adult, had run away from.

I don’t like to think of my childhood as tragic, I was lucky, I was too young to remember the worst times but Luke wasn’t. Luke was old enough to remember it all, and my heart broke for him.

“I even did the washing so you would have clean clothes to wear. When she wouldn’t or couldn’t get up off the sofa or out of bed, I worked out how to use the machine, and I washed our clothes, but I bought the wrong soap powder the first time. I was a little boy, I had no clue there was a difference between hand and machine wash powders. There were bubbles everywhere. She ended up having a good day that day. She came out into the kitchen and slipped on the tiles while I was trying to clean up with a towel. She knew . . . she knew straight away what had happened, and she laughed. She called me over, sat me in her lap, and told me she loved me.”

My heart, oh my poor heart, ached so fiercely for my brother as he almost choked on his words.

“She told me I was a good kid and thanked me for trying to help. We cleaned up the kitchen together, and then she ran down to the corner shop and bought the right soap powder before showing me how to sort the colours. We did the washing and hung it all out on the line together. I thought it was the best thing ever. When we got it in and had it all folded into piles, one for each of us, it felt like Christmas.”

He took in a few breaths and then reached up and wiped each of his eyes on the sleeves of his hoodie. I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist, rested my chin against his chest and looked up at him as I swayed us both from side to side.

“But the next day, it all went to shit again. She went out and left us on our own. It was a Sunday and she was gone from lunchtime until late that night, and I don’t think she got out of bed at all for about a week after that.”

I watched as he licked his lips and swallowed.

“You had a bad week that week, too. It was like you knew things weren’t right with her, you sensed it. I felt bad, Sarah. I hated leaving you with her during the day, but I had to go to school. I’d watched a show or a film a few months before and the mum was a junkie and the little girl was trying to look after everyone and stopped going to school. The welfare people finally got involved, and the kids all got separated and put into different foster homes. I was terrified that would happen to us. That they’d take us away, split us up.”

I turned my head and rested the side of my face back against his chest. I couldn’t watch him talk anymore. Hearing the words was painful enough, watching Luke’s face as he retold the story of our early life was shattering my soul. Not for me, not for what I went through. I was a baby, I remembered none of it. It was shattering for him, the little boy who struggled to keep his family together who lived inside the strong confident man. The man who carried the tortuous memories inside him every day.