Dark Heart Forever (17 page)

I fiddled with the lace on my trainer. ‘I have no idea who you are. You change …’ I hesitated. ‘Sometimes I see you and I don’t like it …’

He reached out and took my hand. ‘I just know how to handle people like Sarah. Remember all those fake bimbos I told you about back home? I grew up with girls like Sarah. I learned how to humour them.’

I sniffed, my eyes still down on my trainers. ‘Well, you learned good, is all I can say. You sounded pretty convincing to me.’

Silence.

‘I want her to accept us,’ he said eventually, much more humbly. ‘She’s one of those spoiled, demanding types. You of all people know that. My dad adores her. She wants to go out, I have to take her. She wants to act all girly and flirty, I have to humour her.’ He sighed. ‘I know it makes me sound like I’ve sold out. Like I’m not brave enough to be real with her. But I’m still the black sheep in our house. I need to prove to my dad that I’m grown up … You are so important to me … I’m just trying to juggle everything. Keep everybody happy … you know?’

I felt ever so slightly bad. Maybe, just maybe, I had overreacted a little. Maybe he
was
trying to do the right thing. Play the long game.

But he wasn’t completely off the hook. Not yet.

‘The thing that gets to me,’ I said, ‘is that she’s got her own way. Muscling in between us. It just seems like from now on it’s going to be the three of us. I know her. I know exactly how she operates.’

He shook his head. ‘I won’t let that happen. In fact I had a plan…I was going to tell you about it…’

I kept my head down, waiting, as he cleared his throat.

‘Let’s go away somewhere, just the two of us … Camping or something.’ He waited for me to respond, as I remained fascinated by my footwear. Eventually I lifted my head.

‘Better bring a three-man tent,’ I told him dryly. ‘Just in case …’

‘Is that a roundabout way of accepting my offer?’ A faint smile played on his lips.

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know … You always manage to make me feel … ridiculous. Like I’m paranoid or something.’

‘You’re very far from ridiculous,’ Evan said seriously. ‘Though you might be a teensy bit paranoid maybe …’ I could tell he was holding his breath, and I gave him what he wanted. A smile.

‘Maybe next weekend.’ I sighed. ‘There’s a spot on the other side of the mountain. My dad used to take us there when we were little. It’ll be nice this time of year.’

‘Great.’ Evan shuffled closer to me and put an arm tentatively around my shoulders. ‘I’m sorry I upset you.’

‘’S OK.’ I could feel my legs getting cramps and I uncrossed them, kicking at the ground. ‘Just keep her away from me.’

‘It will be done,’ he said, drawing me into him. ‘From now, it’s just you and me.’

T
he days rolled by and I began to lighten up. Not see the doom and darkness in everything. Lose the paranoia. I had allowed myself to be convinced by Evan that my distrust was all in my head. I supposed it made sense. For as long as I could remember I had been wary of most people … And when I met Sarah that wariness turned into something much darker. She was out to get me. I was different and I had to be punished. That was my lot. Everyone was my enemy, except for my family.

And Luca.

I had never felt a moment’s real fear with him, which thinking rationally, was plain … irrational. I mean, he was a werewolf! A dangerous predator. But Luca had shown me all his dark corners, not hidden them.

Maybe fear is in not knowing? Trust is about knowing?

I wasn’t stupid, I knew that the attraction I had to Evan was partly down to the enigma of him. And the fact that he was so golden he glowed. The shallow part of me wanted that golden boy, wanted to believe in him. His beauty seemed to reflect any that I had. So that was why I spent my days fantasising about spending the night under the stars, the other side of the mountain, with my boyfriend, refusing to think about his sister, trying not to let Luca in.

Not that Luca was around.

I took the dress and held it against me in front of the mirror. The two-tone satin shimmered and my face glowed along with it. I saw myself stepping through the great palace to its grand ballroom. Elegant, womanly with Luca holding my arm proudly. But would I ever get there? Wasn’t it just a ridiculous fantasy?

I shivered as I realised how much it would bother me if that were true.

Because I wanted to be the princess at the ball. I wanted to dance with a handsome boy and have everyone gazing at me. I guess there’s no girl in the world that doesn’t deep down want that.

I shook my head, embarrassed at my train of thought. I never usually had any truck with that kind of romantic stuff. Never wanted to dress up. But putting on that dress … seeing myself as a boy might see me … it changed things.

And that dress didn’t belong here on mortal Earth. It belonged to another world. Where I was another Jane.

And it belonged to me and Luca.

A knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts.

‘Jane.’ Dad’s voice. ‘I need some help getting a table in the van … Your mother and sister have gone into town. Can you give me a hand?’

‘Just coming.’ I lay the dress on my bed and grabbed a sweatshirt.

Dad had finally finished Mrs Benjamin’s table and it was enormous. I gaped as he opened the shed door.

‘I’ll do the brunt of this,’ he said. ‘I just need you to guide it through the doors.’

‘Dad. You shouldn’t be lifting anything yet,’ I said, giving him a stern look. ‘Let’s wait and Mum and I can do it.’

‘It needs someone stronger than your mum … at one end at least.’ He sighed, gently rubbing his shoulder. ‘But perhaps you’re right.’

‘I could call Evan. If you can hang on twenty minutes?’

Dad shook his head. ‘I’ll give Mrs B a call. Maybe she can wait another day and your mother can help.’

‘OK.’ I moved to lean against the van, where Dad joined me.

We stood in easy silence, looking at the table, through the shed door.

‘You like him, then?’ Dad said after a while. ‘Evan.’

I looked sideways at him.

‘I guess,’ I said, a little shyly.

Dad nodded. ‘Seems a good kid. Seems like a bit of a loner, too.’ He caught my eye. ‘I don’t want you to be hurt.’

My skin prickled. ‘He’s staying around for the summer, he told me.’

‘Good. Just be careful that’s all.’

I shrugged. ‘He wouldn’t hurt me. Not on purpose, anyway.’

‘Jane.’ Dad pursed his lips for a second. ‘You’re very young. I can see how a kid like him – worldly, travelled … that kind of thing – would appeal. But he’s independent. I can see that. I’m just not sure you should set your heart on him.’

‘I’m not,’ I said, annoyed. ‘What is this? You don’t like me having a boyfriend.’

‘Not at all.’ Dad smiled. ‘I suppose every father says this about his child, but you’re special, Janey. A special girl. And you’re sensitive.’

‘I can look after myself. I’m not a child any more.’

Dad continued smiling at me, moving closer and putting an arm round my shoulders.

‘You remember when he came to lunch. And your mother talked about being in love.’

‘I remember. She couldn’t eat.’

‘That’s right.’ Dad chuckled. ‘Well … when I first met your mother, she was pretty cut up. She didn’t tell me everything … but I got the distinct impression that this guy – her “first love” – had really broken her heart. She told me he had been a free spirit … always a little unavailable … that she’d known they would never end up together deep down because of that, but that he felt like her soulmate, and she fell for him. She was devastated when it ended.’

‘What happened?’ I asked, curious. ‘How did it end?’

‘He just disappeared.’ Dad shrugged. ‘She tried to contact him, but she never saw or heard from him again.’

‘Poor Mum,’ I breathed. I turned to look at Dad. ‘But then she fell in love with you.’

‘It took a while. But she knew I wasn’t going anywhere and I adored her. And eventually, she came to love me.’

I squeezed his arm. ‘Mum loves you, loads. It’s obvious.’

‘I know. I wasn’t her first choice.’ He tightened his hold on my shoulder, leaning in to kiss the top of my head. ‘But she told me when we got engaged that she knew I was the right choice.’

‘Of course you were.’ I snuggled into him. ‘The other guy would never have made her happy in the end.’

‘So, I’m just saying … that all that glitters may not be gold. Don’t give away your heart until you’re sure. Fool around a bit. Have fun. But keep something back.’

I nodded. I was pretty sure that Evan was the right choice. And he wasn’t unavailable, was he? He was gorgeous. Kind. He always seemed to find the right words … when I had doubts, anxieties. Evan always said the right thing. He wanted me. And I wanted him.

But he wasn’t my soulmate. I couldn’t completely trust him. Not yet.

E
van stood back and surveyed his handiwork. The old army tent he had borrowed from his dad swayed a little in the breeze. But it was upright at least and sturdy. ‘It’ll be a bit chilly tonight,’ he said, taking my hand. ‘But I’ll keep you warm.’ He wrapped an arm around my waist.

It occurred to me that maybe he wasn’t planning separate sleeping bags.

I bit my lip. ‘Evan …’ I began. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for…I mean, I’ve never done it…’

Evan studied me, a smile playing on his lips. ‘Done what?’

Heat flooded my cheeks. ‘Evan! You know what I mean!’

‘Oh,’ he said, his eyes widening. ‘You mean …
that
?’

‘Yeah.’ I willed the colour out of my face. ‘Just in case you were expecting—’

He cut me off, grinning. ‘There’s no hurry to do anything. I’m just happy to be spending a whole night in your company.’

‘OK … Good.’ My embarrassment subsided and I looked around us. Evan had driven us five miles or so around the mountain to the spot I’d talked about. It was stunning. The trees were less dense, and the view down into the valley was pure green. No houses, no people. Just the birds in the trees and the odd fox at night.

‘I’ll light a fire,’ Evan said, starting to pick up slim branches of wood for kindling. ‘It should keep us going till we go to sleep – we can cook over it too.’

‘Great.’ I joined him searching around for more firewood and we spent twenty minutes in easy silence. When we’d gathered enough, Evan got to work lighting the fire, while I unpacked the food we’d bought. A couple of steaks, some baking potatoes and some tomatoes to roast. I was starving. I groped in the bottom of the bag to find some cutlery, but there was nothing.

‘Damn, we’ll have to eat with our fingers,’ I said, pointlessly turning the canvas shopping bag upside down.

Evan looked up. ‘I have some in my shoulder bag,’ he said, squinting in the sudden sharp sunlight. ‘In the boot of the car. I’ll get it out in a sec.’ But the crackle of wood catching alight diverted him and he turned back to the fire to stoke it and add more kindling.

‘I’ll get it,’ I said, dashing round to the car, while Evan, not hearing, had his back to me, concentrating.

I opened the boot, immediately locating his shoulder bag. As I lifted it out, my eye caught something on the floor of the boot, what looked like rolled-up papers. Letters or something, tied together. Tucking Evan’s bag under my arm, I reached back in to pick them up. Glancing over the top of the car at Evan’s bent form, I tried pushing the ribbon up to release the papers while clamping the bag under my arm. But the weight of it was too much and it dropped with a thump on to the ground.

Sighing, I dropped the papers, still tied together, and was about to pick them up, when I felt his hand on my shoulder. Startled, I jerked, nearly hitting my head on the door.

‘Careful,’ he said, almost curtly. ‘I said I’d get it. You go and look after the fire.’

I turned to look up at him, taken aback by his tone. But his expression was friendly.

‘OK …’ I glanced subtly back down at the papers.

He put his hand on the boot door, pushing on it slowly to shut it. ‘Mind your hands.’

I backed away as he shut the boot firmly. And though he smiled at me then, I was aware of something prickly, something tense about him.

‘Come on,’ he said briskly. ‘Let’s get the dinner on.’ He picked up his shoulder bag and put one arm around me.

As dusk fell, Evan and I lay back, full from barbecued meat and potatoes, waiting for the stars to come out. It was always my favourite thing, to lie there with my father, while he pointed them out and I watched as they grew brighter in the sky.

I lay with my head on Evan’s chest, listening to the thump of his heart, while he stroked my hair with one hand. I felt as close to relaxed as I had ever been with him, the heat of the fire crackling in front of us, and the half-bottle of beer Evan had persuaded me to drink had made me sleepy.

‘Your parents seem like good people,’ he said, quietly, breaking into the silence. ‘Contented.’