He's the One (32 page)

It ended up being one of the best nights Brooke had had in ages. Liberty went out to see a film with Em, leaving Brooke and her friends free to drink more cocktails and dance outrageously in the living room while singing along to the karaoke machine – Harry’s suggestion naturally. It was practically impossible to wrestle him off the mic once he started. But they all managed to have a go. Harry belted out an Adele medley – it might be a while before Brooke wanted to hear ‘Skyfall’ again. She sang Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella’ and Mila sang Gloria Gaynor’s classic, ‘I will Survive’ – she was slightly flat, but the feeling was there. For the first time Brooke didn’t think she would rather be anywhere else or with anyone else. It was brilliant hanging out with her new friends. And only having Flynn there as well would have made it perfect … though no doubt he would have been too cool to sing.

Midnight found the three of them stretched out on the sofas in their PJs, drinking hot chocolate. Something else she couldn’t quite imagine Flynn doing, as he didn’t seem like the kind of boy to wear PJs – she imagined him naked in bed or in boxers … phew! She should maybe stop imagining. Harry, of course, had a pair of red silk kimono-style PJs; Mila’s were grey. That girl really needed to wear some other colours.

‘How would you guys go about finding someone if you didn’t have their second name?’ Brooke had been meaning to ask this question all night. She had not forgotten about wanting to find out who her mom’s great love was.

Instantly Harry and Mila were curious to know who she was talking about and she ended up telling them everything.

‘Marco might know. He was at the restaurant when your mum was,’ Harry suggested.

‘Great idea! I didn’t even think of that!’ Brooke exclaimed.

‘But, remember, this guy might not welcome you contacting him, if you do track him down,’ Mila warned. ‘Imagine how you would feel if you were dumped by the love of your life and then years later they contacted you again. And don’t you think if they’d wanted to be in touch they would have been by now? It’s so easy, with things like Facebook. There must be a reason why they haven’t.’

But Brooke didn’t want to hear that. To her it was a great romance and if her mom wasn’t going to do anything about it, then she would. It was going to be her mission. She had helped Mila and she would help her mom.

In bed later that night, she actually constructed a whole fantasy about Cory and Mom back together and getting married. Brooke would be a bridesmaid in, say, a Stella McCartney number – her mom would be in ivory Vera Wang. She imagined a church wedding in a picturesque English village, then a reception in the grounds of a beautiful stately home. Her mom would make an emotional speech, and say, ‘It’s all thanks to my daughter that I’ve been reunited with the man I love. Brooke, we can never thank you enough.’

She went to sleep with the imagined applause and cheers from the other guests echoing in her head.

Chapter 34

Marco knew exactly who she was talking about when she asked him about Cory the following night at the restaurant. As he was clearly still feeling guilty for shouting at her the previous week, he was more than happy to tell Brooke all he knew, including the piece of prize information, Cory’s second name: Richardson. He had been an American student, apparently, taking time out from his studies to travel, and one night had come into the restaurant with a group of friends.

‘I swear it was love at first sight for the pair of them,’ Marco said. ‘Everyone could see. It was very romantic. Young love, first love.’ He seemed quite wistful at the memory.

Brooke’s excitement went up a gear, and she was itching to go off and Google Cory now she had his full name. But Marco hadn’t finished. ‘I think he lives near Brighton. I once saw him on the beach with his son. He didn’t see me and I didn’t say anything. Your mum left him very abruptly. I think he was heartbroken. I remember him coming in here trying to find her, but I had no idea where she had gone. I suppose she had her reasons for leaving him.’

All Brooke had taken in was the comment about the son. So Nina was right, he had moved on. She had been so caught up in the romantic story she hadn’t considered that there would be other people involved. She suddenly felt dispirited. Her happy-ever-after scenario was fading before her eyes. Typical.

‘He’s a really respected artist now. You should tell your mum, she was always encouraging him to take that path. In fact, I think he’s got an exhibition on at a gallery in Brighton at the moment.’

‘Yeah, I will. Thanks, Marco.’ She had no intention of telling Liberty. She wished she had never found out about Cory, who was obviously happily married with children. He was bound to have more than one son. In Brooke’s head she gave him three children. He had everything that she would have wanted for her mom.

She felt subdued for the rest of the shift, though she tried not to show it in front of Mila and Flynn. She didn’t want them asking any questions. Back home she couldn’t resist Googling Cory Richardson when she was upstairs in her room. There were plenty of hits with his name and quite a few images, that showed him looking older but still as handsome as in the photographs she’d seen. Marco was right, he seemed to be a very successful artist and had painted a number of commissions for some very famous people. And from what she could gather, he lived just outside Brighton with his wife and son. At least there was only one child. God, she really hoped that her mom hadn’t looked him up, though Brooke found it hard to believe that she wouldn’t have. What did Nina say? The love of her life? Well, the love of her life was currently only a few miles away. How would it feel knowing that?

She promised herself that she wouldn’t think about Cory any more, but the following day, when Liberty
had gone to the gym, Brooke was once more drawn to Google him. She discovered where his exhibition was showing and decided on impulse to go and see it. She didn’t exactly know why – maybe she thought there would be some kind of indication in his work that he still had feelings for her mom. Maybe she had been watching too many films where things like that happened. Either way, it was a beautiful day and she set off on her bike along the seafront. She was halfway there when she saw a familiar figure walking towards her. It was Flynn. She wondered what he was doing around here. As far as she knew Eve lived in a village just outside Brighton, in the opposite direction.

‘Hi,’ Brooke called out, coming to a halt and getting off her bike. Since their hug, she had experienced an outbreak of what could only be described as butterflies whenever she saw Flynn. It was temporary, she was sure. Once she’d been on the date with Seb, the butterflies would go back to their rightful place, but they were out in force now. Crazily so. Flynn was in a t-shirt and shorts, and looked seriously good.

‘Hi, I was coming to see you. You were so quiet last night, I wanted to check that you were okay. So where are you off to?’

She wondered why he wasn’t with Eve as they’d seemed to be joined at the hip for the last few weeks, but didn’t say it. She wanted to get back to the banter they had shared, not throw up barriers.

‘I’m fine, I was just tired last night. I’m going into Brighton to see an art exhibition, if you want to come?’ She tried to make it sound casual but she knew that Flynn would be surprised as she had never expressed any interest in art.

‘
Seriously?
You’re not going shopping for more designer clothes? More crippling shoes? More
investment pieces? You’re not going to have a spray tan or have your nails done or your hair? Or have the hairs waxed out of your nostrils?’

Brooke rolled her eyes. ‘And to think I’ve missed seeing you.’ Oops, she hadn’t meant to say that. But Flynn didn’t pick up on it.

‘Okay, well, I’m up for the art. Why not?’

She pushed her bike as they continued to walk along the promenade, the seagulls wheeling over their heads, squawking loudly. It was good seeing Flynn, more than good. He made her feel alive.

‘So how’s it been going with that bloke?’

For a moment she didn’t know who he could mean, as she was so caught up in thinking about him and wondering what he had been doing lately.

‘The guy from the gym,’ Flynn clarified, seeing her blank expression.

‘Oh, Seb? We’re meeting next week. He’s been away on a course.’

‘But you are going to see him again?’

Why all these questions? ‘Yep. And before you say anything, he is definitely straight. I’m absolutely one hundred per cent certain of it.’

‘How do you know? You don’t exactly seem to be an expert in these things.’ He grinned.

‘Because he was the one who chatted me up, or whatever you Brits say, and the one giving me the eye from across the crowded gym. Gay men tend not to do that to girls … And how’s Eve? Not been drinking any beer, I hope – it’s
so
bloating. Didn’t you know that?’ She put on a posh English accent for the last comment.

‘Very funny. She’s fine.’ He didn’t seem to want to say anything else about his girlfriend and changed the subject to their drama project.

The exhibition was in Kensington Gardens, one of the narrow lanes, which was buzzing with shoppers. As they drew closer to the gallery, which was painted a chic grey, Brooke began to feel nervous. Perhaps it was a mistake to be digging into the past. It wasn’t any of her business. But then she thought of her mom sacrificing her relationship with Cory and how she had reacted when Brooke questioned her. She needed to know if there was a picture that she could trace back to her mom, to know if Cory really did belong to the past.

She and Flynn paused outside and looked at the painting of the black female singer that dominated the window.

‘I love that,’ Flynn commented.

‘Yeah, so do I.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. Did you think I would only like pictures of shoes and handbags?’

‘Not exactly. Well, maybe.’

She swiped a punch at his arm. ‘The trouble with you, Flynn, is that you’re too quick to judge people. You should be more open to new experiences, like me.’

And before he could make a smart reply, she walked into the gallery.

There was no one in it, apart from the young redheaded woman working on her laptop behind the desk. She smiled at Flynn and Brooke then turned her attention back to her screen, probably realising that they weren’t there to buy. Brooke walked slowly round the room, pausing to look at each painting. They were all striking, vivid works – some of individuals, a saxophonist, a dancer, a skateboarder, others scenes of urban life – a crowded bar where there was a couple sitting at a table, a hot day in a park, with people lying out on the grass. Disappointingly there wasn’t a picture
that reminded Brooke of her mom. Oh, well, maybe that wasn’t surprising. It was all a long time ago.

The young woman glanced up at them again. ‘Is there anything particular I can help you with?’

What Brooke really wanted to know was whether Cory was happily married, but that was hardly an appropriate question.

‘I really like the bar scene,’ she replied, gesturing at the painting. ‘How much is it?’

‘It’s twenty-five.’

Brooke was pretty sure that she didn’t mean pounds. Wow.

‘Oh, that’s slightly more than I can afford. I just wanted to get a present for my mom.’

‘Sure. Well, why don’t you take this leaflet about some of the artist’s limited edition prints, which might be more in your price range.’

Brooke took the leaflet and thanked her and was all set to leave when a tall, blond man strode into the gallery. Cory Richardson himself, holding two takeaway coffees. Shit! She’d had no idea he would be here. She turned away and pretended to be looking at one of the paintings but all her attention was on what he was saying.

‘Thought you might be in need of a caffeine fix, Daisy. How’s it going?’

He had a pleasant voice, and still had an American accent.

‘Really well, Cory, I’ve sold the dancer.’

‘You have? That’s fantastic. God! I should have bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate, never mind two lattes.’

He realised they weren’t alone and turned to Flynn and Brooke. ‘Sorry, you are being looked after, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah, my friend’s admiring the bar scene,’ Flynn replied. Damn – Brooke didn’t want to draw any attention to herself.

Cory looked at her. ‘You have good taste, that’s one of my favourites.’

‘Well, it’s a little out of my price range, I’m only a student.’

‘You could sell your handbags or your designer shoes,’ Flynn whispered, ‘I’m guessing they’re worth a lot.’

Cory laughed. ‘Don’t you dare come between a woman and her accessories!’ He seemed so open and warm, Brooke smiled at him. Then he seemed to do a double take as he looked at her. ‘You seem very familiar, do I know you from somewhere? Perhaps the university? I sometimes do some guest lecturing there.’

He had given her the perfect get out, but should she tell him the truth? She thought of Nina urging her to leave the past alone, of her mom hiding the photographs away. She should say no. He was married with a son, she really should say no. But then she thought of Liberty, wasting all those years being married to Zac. She had to know if Cory still had feelings for her.

‘Actually you do. But not from university. From a long time ago. About fourteen years.’ She had everyone’s full attention. For a moment Cory was speechless and then he spoke. ‘I can only think that you must be Liberty’s daughter. You have exactly the same eyes.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, we’ve moved back to Brighton. My mom’s getting divorced. I found an old photograph, and my mom and you looked so in love.’ The words were tumbling out now. ‘And I thought you should know that she’s here.’

Something in Cory seemed to shut down as he said coldly, ‘I know.’

Brooke winced at his tone. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. ‘Oh, well, aren’t you going to see her?’ she stammered. ‘It seems like what you had between you was really special. A once-in-a-lifetime thing.’

‘No. I don’t want to see Liberty and I’m not going to see her. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.’