Because of Lucy (11 page)

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Authors: Lisa Swallow

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Adult

BOOK: Because of Lucy
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Chapter 20

 

 

EVAN

 

Lucy’s still awake. Talking. Burbling about animals. She has a cat, apparently. Charlie. Dad bought her the kitten shortly after I left a few weeks ago. A bloody kitten. They guy doesn’t have a clue, buys Lucy something to be responsible for when he can’t even keep her on the meds she needs. Or in the town where she lives.

Abby goes out, and Ness politely listens to Lucy but her eyes glaze. 1:00 AM and Lucy won’t sleep, I can tell now - she’s not manic but she’s heading that way. The stress of getting here won’t have helped. I swig down my beer.

“Lucy, did you bring any meds?” I ask.

“I don’t need them.”

“You do. Or you get unwell.”

Lucy fixes me with narrowed eyes. “I got better. And then I felt like crap. I couldn’t think straight, like someone had stuffed my head with cotton wool. So I stopped.”

“Lucy… We’ve been through this before. You can’t fix this.”

Lucy stuffs fingers in her mouth and chews down on a nail, wriggling her toes, warning me not to push this. So far, I’ve avoided asking questions about how she’s feeling and what’s going on. How she got here. And if Dad knows. I realize I’m mirroring her, fingers in my mouth. She’s not got her meds and god knows when she last took any. I need to call Dad. But she can’t see me. I walk behind her and catch Ness’s eye, waving the phone and pointing upstairs.

“Yes, it’s in my bedroom,” she says.

“Cool.”

“He’s been in your bedroom? Evan!” Lucy giggles and Ness’s cheeks turn pink.

Being in Ness’s bedroom feels intrusive. Until a few hours ago, I wa
s
persona non grata
,
now I’m in her room and trying not to think of Ness lying naked on the bed. Her neatly made bed has the ridiculous cat pajamas scrunched onto them and I remember the night she wore them at the top of the stairs. Back then, I was free of this. For those few short weeks.

Dad answers within three rings. “Evan?” Music blares in the background and my pulse rate speeds up. In the pub. Again.

“Thought you might’ve called me?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because your daughter’s missing?”

A pause.

Shi
t
. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, shit pretty much sums it up. She’s with me. Didn’t you notice?”

“No, I’ve been busy today. Working.” Laughter in the background rolls down the phone.

“Then you went straight to the pub? When she’s not well.”

“She’s an adult, Evan. I’m not responsible for her.”

It’s a fucking good job I’m in Ness’s room because if I was in mine, something would be smashed by now. “She’s ill. She lives with you. Needs your help to get better. She’s your daughter!”

The line fades to silence, music and voices interrupting the quiet.

“I didn’t know she was ill again,” he says.

“She’s not going to be miraculously better in the few weeks since I last came back. I helped you get her back on her meds, calm. All you had to do was keep it going.”

Another round of music fills the silence. “But she’s with you now?”

Anger prickles my skin, crawling across my back. “Yeah. With no meds.”

“Can I come for her tomorrow? I can’t drive tonight. We had a lock-in”

My fingers curl tightly around the phone, squeezing the anger out. “A lock-in? So sitting in a pub all night and not bothering to check she’s okay.”

“She’s safe with you?” He ignores me and my urge to slam something into the wall increases.

“Fine. Come here tomorrow. I’ll text you the address.”

I throw my phone onto the desk. He hit the nail on the head. She’s safe with me. Like I’m her
carer. I can’t be that anymore; it’s not fair.

I knock into Ness’s desk, her laptop’s screensaver lights up, a montage of photographs flicker across the screen. Foreign countries. Places Ness plans to visit. Freedom. I sink onto her bed, fighting back tears. I can’t cry. I won’t cry. Boys don’t fucking cry.

 

****

 

NESS

 

The loud phone conversation stopped ten minutes ago and Evan hasn’t come back down. I glance at Lucy who’s showing me every picture she’s ever taken on her mobile. I think we’re up to about two hundred now. I’m not kidding.

“You’re into photography?” I ask

“Yeah, was going to go to tech and study. Until… well, you know. Not been well. But now I’m feeling better and I might start studying. Even come to Leeds. I could live here or we could live with Evan…” And she continues, a stream of consciousness pouring out of her mouth.

I need to see if Evan is okay. The remote rests on the coffee table and I switch on the TV, hoping a program will catch her attention. So she can focus on something other than me for a few minutes. She’s exhausting. When I flick onto a documentary full of cute looking animals, I almost cheer.

“Oh! Wait, can we watch this?” she says, sitting forward. “
Meerkats! They’re blood
y
awesom
e
.
I
lov
e
meerkats.  Not as much as I love Charlie, of course. I wonder why they call them cats too. They don’t look much like cats. But they’re still awesome.”

“Cool, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just going to help Evan with something.”

Lucy turns to me, eyes glinting. “Oh yeah, I get it…” she giggles. “I’ll be okay with the meerkats and the wine.” She leans into the cushioned sofa back and places her dirty shoes on the table.

I’m working tomorrow, early shift, and this isn’t what I expected from meeting Evan this evening. Certainly not Evan in my bedroom and myself dragged into his past. The bedroom door is ajar, I push it open. Evan’s on the floor, leaning against the end of my bed, long legs outstretched.

“Everything okay?” I whisper.

“Fucking wonderful.”

The light shines through the open curtains, casting shadows across Evan’s face.

“Who did you call?”

“My Dad. He’s coming in the morning.” He rubs his eyes. “Sorry you got dragged into this.”

“I wish you’d told me.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares at his boots.

I sit down on the carpet next to him. “You should both stay here tonight. Wait for your Dad.”

“Thanks. I’ll sit up with her. In case she disappears again.”

“Will she?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. If she gets manic and decides she really needs to be somewhere. Other than with me. But I’m pretty sure she’s okay for now.”

No wonder Lucy always looks for him. His insight into who she is, where she’s at with her illness and what she needs isn’t coming from anywhere else. A twin thing maybe. And nagging in my mind one other question. Where is his Mum? He said his Dad is a single parent but she must know about her daughter. Leaning my head on his shoulder, I lace my fingers through his. His shoulders are stiff. I turn and plant a kiss on his neck and he wriggles, as if the sensation irritates him.

“What do I do, Ness? How can I fix this?”

“I don’t know. But this shouldn’t be down to you. You’re not her parent.”

“But no-one’s there for her if I’m not.” His voice cracks and my heart pushes against my chest, hurting for this confused, lonely guy; isolated from others because of the burden on him.

“Well, I’m going to help you change that, you’re not going to deal with this on your own anymore. It’s wrong.”

Evan turns and grabs me around the chest, burying his face into my side. I stroke his hair as his quickened breathing holds in the tears and despair I know are barely restrained. As I fall asleep on the floor, I’m aware of Evan covering me with a blanket. Then returning to his sister.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 21

 

 

NESS

 

Evan and Lucy are asleep when I leave for work the next day, Lucy across the sofa and Evan in the armchair. I skip making breakfast, grab something from the canteen at work instead. Exhaustion follows me, and hangs with me all day. Probably nothing compared to the exhaustion Evan must be feeling. Catching up with Evan’s reality was difficult, I’ve never had my understanding of someone turned so totally upside down before. Evan transformed from hedonistic student to someone grappling with responsibilities that shouldn’t be his. Pretty sure if I struggled with a secret this big, I’d be drowning myself in student life too.

Before I start work, I send a text to let Evan know I’m thinking about him, and ask him to let me know if he needs help. I check my phone at the first break in my shift and he’s replied with a simple message.

‘thx & sorry & really will call soon xx’

The next few days Evan plays on my mind and I want to help him in whatever way I can. Unsure if he wants my involvement, I decide not to contact him. If he wants to talk, he’ll call. Deciding what to say to Abby is difficult. Evan’s decision to keep his secret undoubtedly extends to Abby. We had a friend at school who suffered from depression, Abby supported her and didn’t judge but this is Evan’s business, I have no right to say anything. Abby comments on Lucy’s full-on personality and I leave the conversation there.

A week later, a text from Evan arrives, letting me know he’s coming back to Leeds. Desperate to talk to him, my finger hovers over the ‘call’ button. No, he chose not to call for a reason. The fact he’s texted me, reached out, bolsters me enough. He’s chosen to see me again.

Now I sit in a local cafe, warming my hands on a mug of coffee, waiting for him. We’ve been here before, during our three butterfly days, me and carefree Evan. The vinyl tablecloth is clean, condiments set out for the greasy food, the odor of the chips pervading the room. Normally I’d hanker for some but I’m not hungry, the prospect of seeing Evan again fills my stomach with acid.

Evan walks in, face obscured by the scarf wrapped around, hair spilling down over his ears. I wave at him and he approaches, unwrapping the scarf. Evan’s paler, and I think he’s lost weight in the short time he’s been away. He only returned yesterday and the haunted look hasn’t left him yet.

“Did you need a drink?” he asks and I shake my head. All I want to do is stand and hug him, hold him to me like I did the night Lucy returned.

He goes to the counter, returns with a matching mug of coffee and sits with it between his gloved hands.

“How’ve you been, Ness?”

“Better than you, I guess,” I say softly and reach out to touch him. The rough material of his gloves protects his skin from my touch. I hope he hasn’t reconstructed any other barriers.

Evan takes a sip of his coffee, brown eyes regarding me over the top of the mug. I won’t avoid this.

“How’s Lucy?” I ask.

The moment where Evan decides whether to keep me involved or not stands between us. Unease creeps up my arms like spiders. I shouldn’t have said anything. Not so soon. Please don’t let my words push him away. He spins the mug on the table, muscle twitching in his cheek as he concentrates on the movement.

“She wasn’t taking her meds. She’s back on them now.”

“Oh, that’s good then?”

“Yeah.” His voice doesn’t agree with his words.

“Or not good?”

“She doesn’t agree, can’t see how something that takes away her creativity helps her. How do you explain that to someone?”

My shoulders sag in relief. He’s reaching out to me. Asking. “What happens if she doesn’t take them?”

“She’ll be fine - for a few weeks, even months then something will start again. Depression. Or mania.”

“I guess it’s difficult for her to accept she’s not better when she feels better.”

Evan sighs, “Yeah. But anyway. I agreed to go and see her every weekend. Help Dad. Make sure she’s going okay.”

I rub my cheek. He’s been sucked into the life he’s escaping again. My thoughts must’ve been evident in my face.

“She won’t keep taking them, if I don’t help her,” he presses.

I clench my teeth, so I don’t open my mouth and say something wrong, so nod instead. A nineteen year old guy shouldn’t be responsible for his sister. I have to push this. Lucy isn’t the only one who needs an advocate.

“Doesn’t she have a doctor? A psychiatrist? Or someone.” Someone else. Not you.

“Yeah, but she misses appointments and slips through the cracks if no-one reminds her. They’re overstretched - don’t have time for people who don’t want to help themselves. Until things get really bad. Then they have to do something.”

Evan’s fidgeting with the serviette holder, drifting away again. Talking about this now, so soon, isn’t what he needs from me. I plunge into my head, grasping at something to say, anything as long as the words are a million steps away from the subject.

“We should take a drive out somewhere again today? Get away?” I say.

Evan smiles, stiffened shoulders dropping. “Escape for a few hours? Count me in.”

 

****

 

We seize a day of escape, return to the town we went to on our first date. Date. The word sounds so quaint, but I guess that’s what the day was. Our beginning. So we go back to our happy place, distant from any part of Evan’s nightmarish world of the last week. Walking hand in hand along the canal, our breath mists in the air. The serenity of the situation fills me with warmth, an excited tingling flowing through me from being close to Evan again. The new Evan who’d always been underneath.

We eat fish and chips by the low river, listen to the water’s path over the rocks and feed the ducks swimming against the current towards us. In the warming December sun, we snuggle together and talk, about everything and nothing. Everything from our normal lives and nothing from the darkness. Evan’s face gradually loses the haunted expression he brought into the cafe this morning. Every time he holds me tight, I want to stay in his arms forever. Stay here. Never let him go back to his pain.

“If only every day can be like this,” I say, popping another fat chip into my mouth.

Evan hugs me to him and kisses my hair. “Fish and chips every day? We’d die of heart attacks before we hit thirty.”

Resting my head on his chest, I listen to his slow, steady heartbeat. “We’d get more than our three butterfly days.”

Evan lifts my face towards his and rubs his cold nose against my cheek. “Three days with you wouldn’t be enough, I lied.”

“Good.”

His cool lips warm as soon as they reach mine, soft at first then an urgency comes with his kiss. The kiss of someone who’s missed the feel of your mouth on theirs. We squash together on the bench, the stinging cold on our faces burnt away by the heat of our embrace. As usual, my body inflames, the tingling I’ve carried inside all day turns to trembling. The intense physical need I have for Evan overwhelms me, amplified by the emotions I’ve shared with him recently. When he pulls back and strokes my face, his eyes burn with the same fervor.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Ness. You’re amazing.”

Instantly the memory of the words returns. Breathed heavily in my ear, when we were entangled on my bed. The fire of the images colors my face, and in his I can see he chose the words deliberately. His smile, the small tug at the corner of his mouth I find so sexy disappears as he moves in to kiss me again.

Later, we stumble back through the door, the winter evening threatening snow. I go straight to the tiny gas fire in the corner and light it. Evan blows onto his gloves and I rub mine on my legs. Northern winters demand thermals, not woolen jumpers. Of course the house is trashed, kitchen piled with dishes and cupboard empty. I have to send Evan for milk from the corner shop and he returns with a bottle of wine. We forego the tea and curl up together on the sofa. Saturday night, Abby will be home with a crowd by 2am. But here and now, we find more peace. Only the clicking of the gas fire and the gentle breathing from Evan surrounds me.

I sip my wine and place the glass on the coffee table.

“Thanks for today,” I say.

I sit back and lean into Evan, holding his arm around my waist and holding his hand. He rubs his face into my hair and inhales. “Feels good to be with you, Ness.”

I can’t tell him how overwhelming just having him hold me is; the physical pull he has which sent me straight to bed with him all those weeks ago. And now, with this new connection, I’m engulfed by him. So soon. I secretly hope the heartbreaking love he has for his sister leaves enough for other people. Maybe one day for me. Unable to find words, I shift around to face him, placing my hands against his chest. The warmth of his muscled shoulder invites me to push into him, kiss his neck. Evan strokes my hair lightly with his fingers.

“I feel calm and safe with you,” he says, “Someone who finally understands, but doesn’t judge.”

The past can’t encroach, not now, not in this moment. “You only had to let go to someone.” I say and kiss his neck, hoping to distract him. “Besides, I did judge you.”

“You didn’t know me. Or understand. I didn’t want anyone to.”

The neck kissing isn’t working so I slide my mouth past his ear and across his face, gentle kisses. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Being Evan with me.”

“I’m looking for him. He got lost over the last few years.”

I don’t want him to say these things, drag himself back to Lucy and his pain so I cover his mouth with mine. He understands, winding his hand through my hair and kissing me. His cool hands slide beneath my jumper and I jerk away. “That’s cold.”

Evan laughs and whispers, “No, you’re hot.”

I roll my eyes at him in an exaggerated way. “Oh please…”

His brown eyes fix on mine, I can see this Evan. See emotion he wants to contain and desire he doesn’t. “Oh, yes you are.”

And he kisses me, tongue parting my lips and tasting me. We crush each other in an embrace of two people who don’t want to let go, a need to anchor each other in their world. The longing I’ve had for him since the day he came back, before Lucy, explodes inside and I pull him to me. I delve my cool hands under his shirt but he doesn’t flinch, his own finding their way under mine too. Evan’s fingers are warmer now as he traces up my side, the sensation tickling and arousing me at the same time. He cups both hands around my breasts, pushing his hands inside my bra. I arch my back into him as he gently rubs my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Gulping down a breath, I suppress a moan and he pulls his hand away, sliding his palm up my leg.

“I’m probably completely out of order asking this, Ness, but I want to take you upstairs and do inappropriate things with you.”

I laugh at his mock formality and lean my head against his forehead, his lashes tickling my cheek. “What? No poetry?”

“No, not tonight. I’m all out.”

As if I’m going to refuse the chance to take this new Evan to my bed. He’s become more than the sexy guy I straddled on my bed all those weeks ago. Back then, we discovered each others bodies before we discovered who we were. Now that we’re connected on a deeper level, the desire for him is intense and more urgent.

There’s something uncomfortable about leading a guy into the bedroom, aware of unspoken plans. This is a mirror of last time we were here, but a world away. I’m barely through the doorway when Evan kicks the door shut and spins me around, pressing me into the wood. My already aroused body flares into desire as his mouth covers mine, tongue delving into my mouth. I grab his hands as they slide up my side; squeeze his fingers.

He pulls his head away, eyes searching mine in the dim light. “Okay?”

“You took me by surprise.”

Evan steps back, releasing my waist and I steady myself on the wall. “Sorry…”

“No, it’s fine…”

His slow, signature smile appears. “Oh, in that case…”

There’s something predatory in his eyes and a shiver crosses my shoulders. Pushing me back against the door, he trails feather light fingers along my side. “Was I too eager? Do you want me to slow down?”

My skin burns where he touches me, the delicious feeling hardening my nipples before his hands get anywhere near them. I grab Evan’s hair and pull him to me, tugging his lip into my mouth whilst pushing beneath his shirt to grip the knotted muscles of his back.

Evan stops kissing me and holds his head back. “I’m trying to slow down.”

Licking my lips slowly, I enjoy the effect the action has on Evan’s breathing and the fact he changes his mind about not kissing me. He makes a sound in his throat and I smile into his lips as they hit mine. As he holds me against the door with his hips, I disentangle my hands and unbutton his jeans. His hard length presses against the material and I touch him lightly, teasing a finger up and down the rough denim restraining him. Evan inhales sharply so I free him from his jeans, continuing to stroke. In response, he deftly unfastens my jeans and delves a hand inside, fingers slipping into the fabric of my panties. Embarrassingly, I groan against his mouth.

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