The One and Only (12 page)

Tears welled in Eve’s eyes. ‘I can’t believe you lied to me. I specifically asked you when I saw you that first night. You—’

‘I didn’t lie to you,’ I said desperately. ‘The whole time you were gone I thought about you all the time. I didn’t see anyone I wanted to talk to. Or anyone I wanted at all.’

‘Except her.’ Eve’s lips set together in a thin line. Her breath sounded fast and harsh. ‘She must have been special.’

‘No, she wasn’t. God, Eve, we didn’t go out with each other. It was just that one time. It didn’t mean anything.’

I reached out for her hand but she sat up in the bed, pulling the covers tightly around her. My iPod slid further away from us, down the bed.

‘That’s what you said about Catalina,’ she said. ‘Did you like this
other
girl as much as that?’

Shit.
Catalina was this incredibly fit Spanish girl I’d got off with in the summer when Eve had temporarily dumped me.

‘No. Yes. I don’t know. It wasn’t important.
She
wasn’t important. You’re the one and only—’

‘How could it not be important?’ Eve frowned, her voice cracking. ‘Didn’t you want it to be important? Didn’t you want it to be special?’

I reached out again, now trying to touch her face.

‘It would be special with you,’ I said helplessly.

‘Get off me,’ Eve snarled.

‘Please, Eve,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know if you were coming back. Remember – you said you’d understand.’

‘Get out.’ Eve kicked at me under the bed covers. ‘GET OUT,’ she shouted.

‘But—’

‘ARE YOU DEAF? GET OUT!’ she yelled.

Grabbing my shirt off the bed, I stumbled to the door. As I walked out into the corridor landing, I could hear Eve slam it shut behind me.

I sank down onto the floor, totally numb.

Inside the room, I could hear Eve starting to cry.

I was still sitting in the corridor half an hour later. The party was going strong – the music thumping up through the floorboards.

Alejandro appeared, heading towards his own room opposite. His eyes widened when he saw me. ‘Luke?’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing.’ I tried to smile at him. ‘I’m fine.’

Alejandro stared at me. ‘If so fine, why are you in the corridor?’

I shrugged and leaned back against the wall.

‘Is it Eva?’ Alejandro rolled his eyes. ‘
Mierda
. Let me talk to her.’

He knocked softly on our door. ‘Eva?’

She let him in. I could hear them talking in low voices.

I sat hunched over, wondering what he was saying.

Wondering how on earth how I was going to get Eve to understand that what I’d done with Hayley meant nothing.

Alejandro’s voice got louder. ‘
Hijo de
. . . Eva. What did you
expect
him to do? He did not know when he would see you again.’

Eve said something I couldn’t hear.

‘Of course it doesn’t,’ Alejandro said. ‘He is sixteen. You expect him to act like he is married to you.’

I didn’t hear any more. A couple of minutes later Alejandro re-emerged.

I looked up at him. He shook his head. ‘Now she hates me too,’ he said. ‘I think it is better to wait. Talk in the morning.’

He went back downstairs.

In spite of what Alejandro had said, I waited outside the room, hoping Eve would open the door. As the night went on, more people wandered up the stairs. Most of them were vaguely recognisable to me as members of what Cal had referred to as George’s ‘gay army’. Several were in pairs, clearly looking for a bit more privacy than they were getting on the stairs or in the kitchen. Others were yawning and alone, just trying to find somewhere to crash.

They all stared at me.

Some of them hopefully.

I got up and found another room to sleep in.

The house was a total mess in the morning – far worse than on the day we’d arrived, after the New Year party. Cal woke a grumbling George at eleven, pointing out we needed to set off for London in an hour. He forced George to chivy all the overnight guests out of the house. He even made him leave twice the normal fee for the cleaner who came every week.

Eve refused to talk to me, or even look at me.

She emerged from our room, pale and red-eyed and went straight up to George to ask him if she could ride in his car to London. We had planned to drive up together with Alejandro.

‘Luke’s not coming with us to the flat any more,’ she announced loudly. ‘He’s going home.’

I saw Cal and George exchange meaningful looks. My stomach twisted into a knot. This was it – she was dumping me.

I couldn’t bear it.

Eve made up with Alejandro, thanking him effusively for all the help he’d given her and promising to pay him back for everything he’d done. But she still refused to listen to anything he said about me.

‘She says it is no so much you sleeping with this girl,’ Alejandro explained as we drove up the motorway in his car. ‘More that you lied about it. She says she cannot trust you any more.’

I looked out of the window. ‘Why won’t she let me speak to her?’

Alejandro glanced sideways at me. ‘She says she is scared of being weak. She says she loves you too much. Wants you too much. She is worried she will go back to you, if she lets you ask her.’

I groaned. But this did give me some hope – until I started stressing about whether Cal would try to take advantage of Eve being miserable by hitting on her.

‘I doubt it.’ Alejandro shook his head. ‘Cal loves his guitar more than a girl. And his head is full of Jess anyway. George though . . . this is the perfect situation for him.’

I frowned. ‘I thought George was gay?’

Alejandro laughed. ‘George is whatever will get him to the sex fastest. There is a good word in English for him. Hedonist.’

I stared at him blankly.

‘Enjoys everything. That is George.’ Alejandro tapped lightly on the steering wheel. Then he grinned at me. ‘You should go back to school, Luke. Learn more words.’

By the time we reached London I’d decided – on Alejandro’s advice – to let Eve alone for a couple of days, then go round and try talking to her again. Alejandro gave me the address of George’s flat, then dropped me in Central London.

Unhappy and anxious, I took the tube home, arriving back as I’d left – only without my phone or my iPod, which I had left in our room and which Eve hadn’t returned to me that morning.

I’d lost my key somewhere in Cornwall so I had to ring the doorbell. It was about six pm and raining. Despite dreading the fury I was sure Mum was about to unleash on me, I hoped she was in.

I was cold and hungry.

But Mum didn’t open the door. Trisha did, baby Sam in her arms.

She did a double-take when she saw me. ‘Luke?’

‘Hi.’ I smiled. ‘Is Mum here?’

Trisha frowned at me. ‘Of course. God, Luke, where’ve you been?’

I walked past her, ignoring the question. I looked round. It felt weird being home. After a month away everything looked familiar and yet somehow really strange as well.

‘Luke.’ Trisha sounded cross.

I spun round. Little Alice was running across the hall towards me. She hugged my leg. I bent down and picked her up. ‘Hey, Alice.’

She grinned.

‘Luke.’ Trisha was staring at me, this hard look in her eyes. ‘I need to talk to you before you see your mum.’

I shrugged and followed her into the living room. I sat in Dad’s old armchair, Alice on my lap. Trisha perched on the sofa opposite, jiggling Sam over her shoulder, her face all serious.

‘I can’t believe you strolling in here like nothing’s happened,’ she said. ‘I thought you were more . . . more grown up than that.’

A knot of anger tightened in my chest. I set Alice down on the floor, then pushed myself up off the chair.

I was going to get enough of a bollocking from Mum. I didn’t need this.

‘Listen to me,’ Trisha said, furiously. ‘Your mother’s in a terrible state. Today’s not a bad day – at least she got dressed. But she’s still upstairs right now, in her room.’

‘What?’ I sat back down in the chair, a flicker of worry filtering through my anger. ‘What’s the matter with her?’

Trisha rolled her eyes. ‘She’s depressed, Luke. Real, serious depression. She wasn’t good anyway, before you went. But now . . .’

‘Because I went away?’ I frowned. ‘But I sent emails. I made sure she knew I was OK.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Trisha snapped. ‘She didn’t know where you were. You’re sixteen. Still at school. Or supposed to be. Anything could have been happening to you. And I heard your girlfriend’s father on the phone. He was terrifying.
And
the school called
and
social services . . . Chloe’d only just moved out too, remember.’

I stared at her.

‘And then, as if all that wasn’t enough, Matt left her. Just walked out one evening saying it was over.’

‘
What?
’

‘Yeah. I came round about a week after you’d gone, to see how she was. I was worried because she hadn’t answered my calls. He’d left her the day before. Almost exactly one year to the day since your dad died.’

Oh God.
I hadn’t even thought about the date Dad died. I put my head in my hands. I knew how much that would have upset Mum. And I hadn’t been here. I hadn’t even called.

Trisha appeared to be reading my mind.

‘That’s right, Luke,’ she said. ‘Your mum was all alone. When I came round she was like this half-dead person. She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t got up, hadn’t washed. She’d dragged herself out of bed to feed the baby. But . . .’ Trisha’s face crumpled. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I called out the doctor and he gave her some pills and they’re supposed to start working soon. I wanted her to come to mine but she wouldn’t. So I’ve been living here since.’ Her voice rose to a shout. ‘And it’s not fair. I’m a single mum and I’m eight-and-a-half months sodding pregnant!’

‘What about Chloe?’ I stammered.

Trisha sighed as if she was too exhausted to keep on being angry. ‘She’s come round a few times, but to be honest I don’t think she helps. It’s not as if they even get on that well.’ She looked up at me. ‘It’s you she wants to see. You she’s been worried about.’

I sat back in the armchair, guilt flooding through my veins like ice water.

Trisha went up first to say I was back.

I heard Mum call out my name and I ran up the stairs three at a time. She was sitting on her bed, her face haggard, her hair all lank and straggly, her clothes creased and crumpled.

Tears leaked out of her eyes when she saw me. I hugged her, my insides turning over and over. I’d never seen her look like this.

She stroked my hair, whispering my name.

‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ I was seriously close to crying as she buried her face in my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry.’

She felt so fragile. So broken.

I wanted her to forgive me. To say that everything was all OK now. To say that she was fine, now that I was back. But when she looked up at me, her eyes were dull . . . empty.

‘Mum?’

She was looking at me, but it was like she wasn’t really seeing me. Like there was this barrier between us.

I held her, reassuring her I was fine. I had expected her to be angry or, at least, to demand a hundred explanations from me about what I’d been doing.

But she didn’t shout or ask me any questions. Not even about Eve.

It was like she was Mum and yet not Mum, at the same time. It was creepy and sad and really, really scary.

Trisha tried to explain it to me later. ‘It’s like she’s in this black box, and she can’t get out of it back into her life. The anti-depressants will help soon, though, I hope. And you being back is the most important thing, Luke. She doesn’t have anyone else.’

My heart slid into my gut. I didn’t want this. My whole plan coming home had been to give Eve a few days, then get her to take me back. Back to Cornwall. Back to the guitar. Back to our life. Yes, and back to the sex I still hadn’t had.

But how could I go back now?

Dads. It all came down to them. If mine hadn’t died then Mum wouldn’t be in this state. And if Eve’s wasn’t a total whack job, she and I would have been together all autumn and Hayley could never have happened.

Ryan came round on Sunday afternoon. We’d texted each other a few times when Eve and I were in Cornwall – I’d borrowed George’s phone – but it was kind of weird seeing him again

He asked for a beer as soon as he arrived. I found a stash in one of the kitchen cupboards and took it out to the garden. We were sitting outside to get away from Sam’s crying – which had graduated from the old mewing squeal to a piercing scream.

Ryan drank the beer quickly while I told him about Eve.

‘Why didn’t you just lie about Hayley?’ he asked, looking staggered by my stupidity.

I shrugged. ‘Dunno. Eve just knew. Without me saying anything.’

Ryan set down his empty bottle on the grass and laughed. ‘So correct me if I’m wrong, but that means that you managed to get Hayley into bed in about five seconds flat, whereas you’ve been living with Eve – your mind-reading girlfriend – for a month and it still hasn’t happened?’

Piss off, Ryan.

‘What about you?’ I said, pointedly changing the subject.

‘This and that,’ he said, smugly. He raised his eyebrows, obviously hoping I’d ask more questions so he could boast about however many girls it was he’d shagged since I last saw him.

I suddenly didn’t want to hear it.

‘Chloe’s coming over later,’ I said. ‘D’you want to stay?’

A weird expression crossed Ryan’s face. Sort of scared and hurt and worried all at once. He stood up. ‘No. Er . . . I need to get going anyway. I’m meeting someone.’

‘What’s going on with you two?’ I said. ‘When did you actually last see each other?’

‘Mmmn.’ Ryan wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘Well, I may have failed to fill you in on all the details when we . . . er . . . last time we spoke . . .’

‘What d’you mean?’

Ryan grinned. But the smile looked forced. ‘We broke up. Actually, she dumped me that night your mum had the baby.’

‘What? Why didn’t you say anything?’ I could feel my mouth hanging open and made no attempt to close it.