Don't Let Me Go (8 page)

‘Is that another way of saying I’m dense?’

His eyes lit with mirth. ‘No, it’s a way of saying you’re completely impenetrable and there’s a very good chance you’ve lost the plot.’

She gave a cry of laughter. ‘Oh, I definitely have,’ she agreed, ‘and if you’ve got any ideas for how to get it back on track, I’m listening.’

‘I’ll work on it,’ he promised. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll need to know more about this bloke. Was it serious between you?’

Her smile faded as she shook her head. ‘No, not at all. In fact, there wasn’t anything really. We just met and I guess there was some sort of chemistry . . . At least there was for me . . .’

‘And now you’ve heard from him and you think there might have been for him too?’

‘Alex heard from him,’ she corrected. ‘He doesn’t know I’m Charlotte now and I don’t want to tell him. So that’s it. All over before it even began.’

‘Mm,’ he grunted, apparently unimpressed.

‘Another?’ she offered as he stared at his near-empty bottle.

His eyes narrowed as they came to hers. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk – again?’ he challenged.

‘
Me
get
you
drunk,’ she protested. ‘I’ll have you know it was the other way round last weekend . . .’

‘Guilty as charged, and do you know what, I feel just like getting blasted again, so if Chloe’s with Shelley for the night . . . Is this her first sleepover, by the way?’

‘It is, so I’m fully expecting to have to go and fetch her at some point.’

‘Shelley’ll bring her back, if you’re about to use that as an excuse not to get blasted with me.’

‘I know she will, but . . .’ Did she want to get into how much she’d been drinking lately, or did she just want to go for it? Catching his roguish grin and feeling her own need blossom she decided the hell with it, and said, ‘I’ve only got a couple more Steinies, but I can do you a bottle of the house Pinot Gris.’

‘My dad’s evil brew?’ he scoffed. Then, laughing as she tossed a bottle top at him, ‘It’s actually not bad, but don’t tell him I said that. So, bring it on, oh you of iron will, you.’

Giving him a quick throttle on the way into the kitchen, she fetched a freshly chilled bottle, two glasses, a dish of aioli and a white crusty loaf which she carried out to the table. ‘It’s all I have to eat,’ she told him, ‘and I guess we should have something.’

‘Did you make it?’ he asked, peering suspiciously at the aioli.

‘No, my mother brought it over last night. I made the bread though, and Chloe saved me two of her prized cupcakes from a baking session at Aroha yesterday. I know she’d be thrilled if you had one, or even both.’

Since Chloe wasn’t showing any early signs of becoming a master baker, Rick’s eyes gleamed with irony as he twisted the top off the wine. ‘The thrill will be all mine,’ he said drily. After filling the glasses he passed one over saying, ‘OK, you’re not off the hook yet. I want to know this chap’s name.’

‘It’s Anthony, but honestly, there’s nothing to tell and you’re making me wish I’d never brought it up.’

‘But you did, and as it’s what was on your mind when I arrived, you need to let it out to someone, and who better than me?’

She eyed him defiantly. ‘You don’t
know
it was on my mind.’

‘OK, I confess, I thought at first you were pissed at not doing so well with the waterskiing earlier.’

Her eyes flew open. ‘How do you know about that?’ she protested. ‘You weren’t even there, and I bet Bob didn’t tell you.’

‘Craig,’ he confessed. ‘Can’t keep a thing to himself. Said you were bloody awful . . . Well, he didn’t say bloody or awful, come to think of it. I forget what he did say, apart from the fact that you kept falling in.’

‘I’m not a natural,’ she stated defensively.

‘Rubbish, it’s just your focus wasn’t there. It happens. I can’t stay up myself when my mind’s on other stuff, and I’m already wishing I’d phrased that another way.’

Laughing, she said, ‘So tell me how it went at the house on Opito Bay. I’m guessing not brilliantly, or you wouldn’t be here.’

His eyes lost some of their lustre. ‘It was great. Perfect, in fact, if it’s the kind of place you’re looking for.’

‘And Katie is, but you’re not? Where is she now?’

Looking glummer than ever, he said, ‘She stormed off on me, and who can blame her? I’d have stormed off on me too in her shoes.’ He sighed heavily. ‘She so doesn’t deserve this.’

Charlotte was regarding him closely. ‘You have to tell her, you know that, don’t you?’ she said softly.

His eyes flicked to hers and away again. ‘Kiwis,’ he stated, spotting the family of daft birds pecking about under the puka.

‘They’ve been there on and off for the past week, so stop trying to change the subject.’

‘And what, pray tell, would the subject actually be?’

‘You know what I’m saying.’

‘I do, and it would seem you can’t put it into words either.’

‘Of course I can, but it’s you who needs to, not me.’

He sighed again as he reached out to try and grab a moth.

‘I don’t understand why you’re having such a problem with it,’ she said, genuinely puzzled.

He shrugged. ‘I guess you wouldn’t, as it’s not happening to you.’

‘Sorry, that was insensitive of me, but you can’t go on living a lie . . .’ She broke off, flushing as he cocked an eyebrow. ‘My situation’s different,’ she protested.

‘But you’re still not completely out there.’

‘For good reasons. Anyway we’re not talking about me.’

‘I’d prefer it if we were.’

Sitting forward, she said, ‘Look, everyone has secrets, things they’d rather others didn’t know about them, but in your case . . . Well, it’s not as if you’ve got anything to be ashamed of. For God’s sake, it’s hardly unusual these days, and I’m sure, when you’re in Auckland . . .’

‘It’s different when I’m there,’ he interrupted. ‘It’s a big city, people lead different lives. Out here . . . This is a small town. And I’m Bob Reeves’s son.’

Shaking her head in bewilderment, she said, ‘You can’t seriously think your dad would cut you off, or do something drastic, just because you’re . . .’ She stopped short of saying the word, determined he should be the one to utter it first.

‘Frankly, I don’t know what he’d do, and it’s not like I really care about being cut off . . . Well, I do, because we’re a close family and I know how much it would hurt him if he felt he had to do that.’

‘But he wouldn’t,’ Charlotte insisted. ‘In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if, in his heart, he already knows.’

‘Right, so that would be why he arranged for me and Katie to go and see this house today? Actually, yeah, it could be. That’d set me on the right track if he could get me married off.’

‘He’s not as devious as that and you know it. In fact, it sounds to me as though you’re telling yourself all sorts of things about your father that just aren’t true. And the only reason you’d do that is because you’re the one having difficulty facing up to who you really are.’

His eyes came to hers with a wry, though sad respect.

‘You’re using your father as an excuse,’ she said more bluntly, ‘and what about Katie? This isn’t fair on her, you’ve got to see that, and . . .’

‘I know, I know. Don’t you think I hate myself for what I’m doing to her? She really doesn’t deserve it, but if I break it off I’ll have to give a reason, and once I start getting into it . . .’ He picked up his glass and drained it. ‘Actually, I’ve got an idea,’ he said, reaching for the bottle. ‘Why don’t you marry me? We could be really happy, you, me and Chloe, and . . .’

‘Rick, get real. I might be into a lot of things, but human sacrifice isn’t one of them.’

He gave a splutter of laughter. ‘Nicely put, if a touch cruel. I mean, look at me, why wouldn’t you want to marry me?’

She pinned him with her eyes. ‘Do you really want me to answer that?’

‘Actually, yes I do,’ he challenged.

‘Only because you’re trying to get me to say the word that for some bizarre reason you can’t bring yourself . . .’

‘Gay, OK?’ he broke in. ‘I’m gay. Gay, gay, gay, gay. Is that enough for you? Are you happy now? Have I given you what you wanted?’

‘It’s not about me. It’s about you and those you need to tell, and you have to face up to it at some point, you know that. You can’t go on lying to them. In fact I’m amazed you’ve got away with it for this long, except I guess people only see what they want to see.’

Having finished his second glass of wine, he got up from the table and wandered down to the footbridge. A moment later, he was splashing through the stream and climbing on to the swing.

Taking a glass down to him, she stood on the shingle watching him, the only sounds coming from the creak of the ropes, the buzz of cicadas and gentle swish of the waves.

‘Tell me, how come I can talk to you when I’ve never been able to talk to anyone else?’ he demanded.

She shrugged. ‘I guess you feel you can trust me.’

‘Can I?’

‘I’ll try not to be offended by that.’

He laughed. ‘Maybe it’s because you’ve got secrets too,’ he said. ‘I mean, I know what they are and I think we should . . .’

‘Stop trying to switch this round to me,’ she scolded. ‘We’re discussing something serious here, something that’s going to affect the rest of your life, so stop trying to avoid it.’

‘But it’s OK for you to avoid talking about you?’ Without waiting for her to answer, he jumped off the swing and came to take the glass she’d brought him.

‘How have you left things with Katie?’ she asked as they wandered down to the water’s edge.

He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. She called me a few names, richly deserved, I might add, then got in her car and drove off. I had to hitch a lift to Shelley and Phil’s.’

‘Do either of them know? I mean about you being gay.’

He shrugged. ‘They’ve never mentioned it if they do. Unless . . .’ He turned to her. ‘How did
you
know?’ he asked. ‘I mean, when we spoke last weekend . . . I didn’t tell you straight out, you just seemed to get it. Did Shelley say something to you? Maybe she does know.’

‘It wasn’t Shelley, it was instinct. I could tell right from the off and if I can see it . . . Well, perhaps she can too.’

‘We have to assume Katie can’t.’

‘Mm, yes we probably have to assume that, which is why you have to tell her.’

‘I know. I just don’t want to hurt her, because actually I do love her, just not in the way she wants me to.’ He looked down to where their bare feet were sinking into the sand as the waves swirled around them. ‘When I saw the look in her eyes earlier, when she realised I was going to turn the house down . . . God, I wanted to go out and shoot myself. She loved the place, she was so excited . . . She was all ready to call Dad to tell him it was perfect and then I go and crush her. What kind of a bastard does that make me?’

Not holding back, Charlotte said, ‘One that has to start being honest, not only with her, but with your dad too. You know, in your heart, that he loves you far too much to turn his back on you. He’s just not that judgemental, or unfeeling, so you have to stop hiding behind the prejudices that are entirely yours.’

He was gazing out at the changing colours of the sky, his face taut with concern, his eyes focused on only he knew where. ‘I know you’re right,’ he replied, ‘but I can’t get past the feeling that I’ll be letting him down. I know he sees me taking over this place one day, running it the way he does, producing a stream of grandkids, carrying on his legacy . . . OK, it’s all dead corny stuff, but it matters to him, and because of that it matters to me. I don’t want him to be ashamed of me, or feel he has to make excuses for me . . .’

Putting a hand on his arm, she said, ‘You know that’s not how he’s going to feel, but why don’t you talk to him and let him speak for himself?’

His smile was ironic as he looked down at her. ‘You’re a lot like your mother, do you know that? Don’t worry, I mean it in a good way. I know how you women always hate being compared to your mothers, but Anna’s in a class of her own.’

Charlotte’s laugh was empty. ‘You know, she’s actually more your mother than she is mine. I mean, she brought you up . . .’

‘Since I was eight and Shell was ten. I don’t think we gave her an easy time of it at first, but it didn’t take us long to realise that you just
have
to love her.’

‘When did she tell you about me?’

He frowned as he thought. ‘I don’t remember an actual time. It’s like we always knew you were out there, with this family that had adopted you, and that one day we might get to know you.’

‘So,’ she said playfully, ‘here I am, and getting to know me’s turning out to be a lot of fun?’

‘You’re a bit of a nag,’ he told her, ‘but otherwise you’re kind of cool.’

‘Mm,’ she nodded pensively, ‘that sounds like me. In fact, what you see is what you get.’

He gave a shout of laughter. ‘Yeah, right,’ he retorted.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means that if you’re forcing me out of the closet, then I’m . . . Well, no I guess I’m not forcing you, because in your case I have to concede it’s different.’

‘Just a bit, and anyway, there isn’t a closet big enough for all my baggage. Or the skeletons.’

He gave that some thought. ‘Mm, you could be right.’

‘You’re making it sound as though you know everything about me, but I can tell you this much, you don’t.’

Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face to look at him. ‘What I know,’ he said, ‘is that Anna’s first husband wasn’t your real father, and I also know why you decided to come here when you did.’

Feeling certain he couldn’t know that, she started to take a step back, needing to create a distance.

‘Don’t,’ he said, catching her wrist, ‘it’s all right. I swear no one else knows . . .’

‘But how do you? My mother would never have told you . . .’

‘She didn’t. It was Dad who told me.’

Would Bob really have broken the confidence? ‘And Shelley? Does she know?’

‘We’ve never spoken about it, so I can’t say for sure. Even if she does, she’d never tell. You have to know that.’

A cold chill was running down her spine. ‘Please tell me Katie doesn’t know. I couldn’t bear it . . .’