The One and Only (8 page)

Eve shook her head. She leaned against me.

‘Aren’t you hungry?’ I said, kissing the top of her head.

‘No.’ She paused. ‘I’m only scared.’

I put my coffee cup down on the roof of the car and held her.

‘Everything’s going to be all right,’ I said. ‘I’m here. And I’m not leaving. We’re together. We’ll make it work.’

I stared into her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes.

I’d said it now. I’d said I’d stay with her.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘Oh Luke, I’m so scared I feel sick.’

She hugged me tighter.
Oh God.
I was getting turned on by the feel of her body pressed against mine. In fact, I badly wanted to get right back to where we were last night.

A little groan escaped out of my mouth.

She looked up at me, her eyebrows raised.

I grinned. ‘They say that making love is a cure for fear,’ I said.

‘What?’ Eve glanced over at Alejandro, emerging from the service station. ‘But, we can’t . . .’

‘I know,’ I said, quickly, trying not to look as totally sexed-up as I felt. ‘I can wait.’

A bit. Please? Only a bit longer.

Alejandro came back and we got into the car again. Eve seemed slightly happier than she had earlier. She even ate some toast.

But I felt more troubled than before. What Alejandro had said kept running through my mind. Was I really prepared for everything that staying with Eve might bring?

I mean, on the one hand, of course I was. I loved Eve. I would do anything for her. And she had no one else. I wasn’t even worried about the practical things – things that maybe should have bothered me far more. Money, for instance. And how we were going to find jobs. And somewhere to live. At the time I was sure we could do all that.

But Alejandro had been right. It
was
a massive thing to say I’d give up everything for her.

For a start there was school. Well, OK. I didn’t care about that.

Then there were my friends. But, I reasoned, Eve and I could make new friends wherever we went. Just like we could buy whatever stuff we needed, once we had some work.

And then there was Mum. I chewed on my lip, feeling guilty. She was having such a bad time, coping with Sam. And Chloe had only just gone. Still. That wasn’t my fault
.
And, OK, so Matt was an idiot. But Mum had friends. Well, she had Trisha, who was a brilliant friend. Mum would be all right, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if I wouldn’t let her know I was OK. At that thought I dug into my pocket and checked I’d turned my phone off last night. Mum was likely to call me soon, to try and find out when I was coming home. Or else Ryan would call, wanting to know what was happening. I wondered if Jonno had spoken to either of them; what they might have said.

God.
How long would it be before Jonno tried to call
me
? Maybe he already had. Maybe he was trying right now.

I didn’t want to speak to any of them.

I glanced down at Eve. She was huddled up beside me again – all fragile with her gorgeous lips and her tight jumper and her amazing legs and . . .
Jesus.

Alejandro had been right about that too. My head was full of sex. It was impossible to see anything clearly other than how much I wanted Eve. I couldn’t disentangle the love from the sex thing – or, if I was honest, either of those feelings from how much of an ego boost it was to know that it was
me
she’d chosen to run away with.

Eve fell asleep again, her head lolling against my shoulder. I turned away, trying not to think about it all, staring out of the window as the frosted browns of the Devon fields turned into wilder, rockier Cornwall.

We arrived at George’s place at about nine that morning. He lived in his parents’ house – a massive, jumbled pile of worn stone and dark turrets – on a cliff top in the middle of nowhere.

‘No one will find you here,’ Alejandro had said. ‘And George’s parents are away all winter.’

I stared out at the bleak landscape that led away from the house. Beyond the edge of the cliff, the sea raged. Dark waves, tipped with white foam, crashed against the rocks below.

‘Is he here on his own?’ I said.

Alejandro ran his hands self-consciously through his hair. ‘I doubt it. But he knows we are coming. Though no this early.’

As Alejandro rang on the doorbell, I remembered. It was New Year’s Day. Most people didn’t get up early after New Year’s Eve. Last year I hadn’t got up until twelve. But everything was different then. I hadn’t met Eve. And Dad was still alive. Just. He was in the hospice. We’d gone and visited him that afternoon. He’d been too weak to speak. Suddenly I missed him desperately. Dad would have known what to do about Jonno. He would have understood the position I was in. Better than Mum, I suspected.

But he wasn’t here.

No one was answering the door. The wind whipped round the side of the house, salty and freezing – straight off the sea. Eve hugged her jacket round her shoulders and leaned against me.

Alejandro rang the doorbell a second time.

After a few minutes the door creaked open. A bleary-eyed guy, about the same age as Alejandro – eighteen or so with dark, shoulder-length hair – shielded his face from the gloomy morning light.

‘Bloody hell, Al,’ the boy croaked in an extremely posh voice. ‘’s frigging middle of the night. We only went to bed about five minutes ago.’

Alejandro rolled his eyes. ‘We have had a crap night, George. And a crap drive. But sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep.’ He marched inside.

George stepped back unsteadily, as Eve and I followed Alejandro into a dark, wood-panelled hall. It was like some kind of castle – all wood floors and walls, with ancient oil paintings dotted along the corridor.

Eve’s eyes fixed on the artwork as George led us down the corridor towards a large, surprisingly modern, steel kitchen. All the surfaces were covered. Pizza slices lay slumped over takeaway boxes, while bags of crisps and half-eaten sausage rolls were dotted among the army of empty cans, bottles and glasses. George leaned on the counter, picked up an open bottle of white wine by the sink and took a swig.

‘
Ugh
.’ He turned round. ‘Warm and sweet. Disgusting. Still, we didn’t care at four this morning.’

He grinned and his face lit up. His eyes were a startling green, almost the same colour as his grubby T-shirt, and he had dark stubble all over his chin. Something about him reminded me of Ryan.

He glanced at Eve.

‘So these are your refugees, Al?’ he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘At least they’re raising the hottie quotient.’

I moved closer to Eve, slipping my arm round her shoulders.

But George didn’t notice. He was staring at Alejandro. ‘So are you,’ he said. ‘In fact you’re looking really fit.’

I froze with embarrassment as George reached over and kissed Alejandro on the lips.

Oh my God.

Why hadn’t it occurred to me Alejandro’s friend might be gay too?

I looked away, knowing my face was bright red.

I heard George laugh. ‘I know what you’re going to ask. He’s not here – so no competition for the drums. But Cal’s here. And Jess, of course.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And Clara and Em and Frank and James and God knows who else. Most of them’ll be gone later. Then we can jam. Yeah?’

‘Sure.’Alejandro smiled. ‘But I have to return to Madrid in a few days. I already missed one gig. I can’t miss another. Listen, George. This is Eva. And this Luke.’

I looked up at George, hoping my face was no longer so red.

He smiled at me, his brows slightly raised – as if he were searching for the answer to a question.

I suddenly realised what the question probably was and tightened my grip on Eve’s shoulder. ‘Hi.’ I held up my hand, palm up in a ‘stop sign’ gesture, to make it quite clear kissing me was in no way an option.

‘Hi,’ George said. He seemed to wake up properly. ‘You guys want something to eat or drink. Or d’you need to crash?’

I gazed hopefully at Eve.

‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ she said.

Of course.

Making it with your boyfriend. Or tea.

No contest.

‘No problemo.’ George slouched over to the kettle and switched it on.

We sat in the kitchen for an hour or so. Alejandro and George did most of the talking – reminiscing and chatting about various people. The drummer in George’s band – abroad at the moment – was an old mutual friend of theirs. He’d introduced Alejandro to George at some concert a couple of years ago. But whereas Alejandro was already doing loads of professional work, George’s band were still trying to get decent gigs.

‘Your father will help though, no?’Alejandro said.

He’d already told me George’s dad was a record producer and had loads of contacts in the music business.

‘Yeah, sure,’ George shrugged. ‘But it’s not a free pass. Mum and Dad want me to go to uni first.’ He grimaced in my direction. ‘This is supposed to be my gap year. They think I’m working until spring, but I jacked in my job as soon as they left for Australia.’ He grinned. ‘We just hang out here. Cal and I play all the time. ’S great. I mean I’d rather be in London but the flat there’s tiny and it isn’t soundproofed so . . .’

I asked a few questions as they talked – genuinely interested in the music they were into – and also keen to remind them I was there in case they suddenly forgot and started holding hands or something.

But Eve withdrew more and more, shrinking silently away from the group, lost in her own thoughts.

George glanced at her several times. She didn’t seem to notice. In fact, she only ever looked up from the table to sip at her mug of tea. George asked her a couple of questions. Eve just gave short, shy answers and withdrew again.

I could see Alejandro was as worried about her as I was. Eve had never been exactly outgoing. But I don’t think either of us had ever seen her this overwhelmed and scared before.

After a while George showed us round the downstairs part of the house. It was enormous and full of twisty little corridors and oddly-shaped rooms. George said the original part of it dated from the eighteenth century. ‘But we tend to hang out mostly at the front,’ he said walking us through the kitchen again and out into a massive living room. It was, like the rest of the house, wood-panelled, with long, high windows, embroidered rugs on the wooden floor and lots of little tables covered with ornaments. Bottles and cans and overflowing ashtrays lay everywhere, along with an array of dirty plates and bowls. ‘Bit of a mess,’ George murmured. ‘Cleaner comes tomorrow.’

Through an open door I could see another room with no windows and hardly any furniture. A piano stood to one side. Five or six electric guitars were propped against three large amplifiers.

Alejandro and George started discussing the merits of the drum kit which stood in the corner.

‘You OK?’ I whispered to Eve. ‘Shall I ask if there’s a room we can have or something?’

She gazed at me. ‘I’d like a bit of time on my own, actually,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll go outside for a while. D’you mind?’

‘Course not,’ I lied.

Eve slipped away and I sank down on one of the sofas.

She’s having a hard time. Be patient.

George and Alejandro were talking very animatedly now. Then George turned round.

‘Where’d she go?’ he said, his eyes wide.

I shrugged. ‘Wanted some space.’

‘Man, for one second I thought she’d just vanished,’ George said. ‘She’s like an elf or a sprite or something.’

‘No she’s not,’ I said, irritated.

‘Too much sweet wine, George,’Alejandro said quickly. ‘Hey. I am very tired. Show me where I am sleeping.’

We followed George to the first floor. I wasn’t sure if we’d come this way before or not. George led us along another bewildering series of corridors until we came to two doors opposite each other. George pushed one open – revealing a large room complete with wooden four-poster bed and an ornate chest-of-drawers. A sink stood in one corner. The room was as big as my and Chloe’s rooms put together at home.

‘Bit basic, but d’you want this?’ he said to me. ‘Sheets and stuff are in the drawers.’

I nodded eagerly and wandered inside.

I could hear George ushering Alejandro into the room opposite. I shut the door and walked over to the window. It looked out over the side of the house. Trees. A patch of lawn and a corner of sea in the distance.

Eve was sitting on the grass, bent over something, her bag beside her.

I went over to the bed and switched on my mobile. Four missed calls from Mum, a text from Ryan demanding an update on what was happening –
CALL ME U ****ER
–
and ten calls from another number I didn’t recognise, but which I guessed must be Jonno’s.

Oh, crap.

Then the phone rang. I stared at the name flashing up at me.

Chloe.

‘Hi,’ I said.

‘Where the frigging hell are you?’ she snapped.

‘Happy New Year to you too,’ I said. ‘I suppose you’ve spoken to Ryan then?’

‘Don’t get arsey with me.’ Her voice rose. ‘D’you have any idea what you’re doing to Mum?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Eve’s dad’s been calling and yelling at her since early this morning. She’s had to leave the phone off the hook. He’s threatening to kill you or get you sent to prison or God knows what. He’s been on at Ry, too. Demanding to know where Eve is. Course Ry swore blind he hadn’t seen either of you. But he told me about Alejandro turning up. You’ve got to come home, Luke. Mum’s off her head worrying about—’

‘Well, she shouldn’t be,’ I interrupted. ‘I texted Mum last night. I told her I was all right—’

‘Are you listening to me. Jonno’s saying—’

‘He’s an idiot. He—’

‘For Christ’s sake Luke,’ Chloe shouted. ‘Mum’s been on the phone to me for the last hour. She’s—’

‘So
that’s
what’s really bothering you! Why don’t
you
go home then?’

‘I’ve got a job and responsibilities. You’re just—’

‘I’m doing it for Eve.’

I switched off the phone and hurled it onto the bed beside me.