The One We Fell in Love With (12 page)

‘Are you drowning your sorrows?’ I asked as he cracked open the vodka.

‘No,’ he replied calmly. ‘It’s not like we didn’t see it coming.’

‘I can’t believe Phoebe failed to mention it again.’ I was upset, actually. I hadn’t felt very close to her at Christmas. It had been partly my fault. I hadn’t made
much of an effort, but she hadn’t even asked how my recent gig had gone. I kept getting the feeling that she hadn’t wanted to be at home and that hurt.

Angus handed me a cup. I chucked him my packet of cigarettes and surreptitiously watched him as he lit up. His face was so handsome highlighted by the flame, his cheekbones even more pronounced.
He took a drag and blew the smoke out through a crack in the door.

‘So, what’s this about Jake?’ he asked. ‘You’ve got the hots for him, now?’

‘I’ve always thought he was good-looking.’

‘You reckon?’

I was thrilled at the hostility in his voice. Was he jealous?

‘Do you think he fancies me?’ I asked, hoping to wind him up further.

‘Of course he does.’

My eyes widened. ‘Has he said anything to you?’

‘Yeah, and you wouldn’t like it if you heard it, so don’t ask.’

‘Tell me!’ I exclaimed, prodding his stomach with my socked foot.

‘No.’

‘Go on.’ I prodded him again and he grabbed the ball of my foot, holding it steady. My stomach fluttered as he stared at me with irritation.

‘Let’s just say he’d be happy with any one of you, or all three at once.’ He shoved my foot away.

‘Oh, is that all?’ I said in a bored voice, adding a yawn for good measure. ‘We’ve heard it before.
Loads
of times.’

‘Yeah, well, I wanted to deck him when he said it to me.’ He glared at me and took a swig of his drink.

‘Aw, Angus.’ I prodded him again, but this time when his hand closed around me, he didn’t show any sign of letting go.

‘I hate it when people lump you together like you’re the same.’ He held my foot against his chest and I could just about feel his heart beating beneath my sole. ‘You
couldn’t be more different.’

I smiled a small smile at him, but I didn’t know what to say. ‘Give us a drag.’ I leant forward and took the cigarette from him. He relaxed back into the beanbag and regarded
me levelly as I inhaled.

‘You don’t really like Jake, do you?’ he asked.

‘Why do you care?’

He gave me a meaningful look, but didn’t spell it out. My head spun. The vodka was already making me woozy and the cigarette wasn’t helping.

‘No,’ I murmured.

He took a deep, shaky breath and sighed heavily, not taking his eyes from mine.

‘How many guys have you been out with?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know. Five.’

‘Were you serious with them?’

‘You mean sex?’ I asked directly.

He nodded warily.

‘I haven’t been with anyone like that.’

His jaw hit the floor.

‘Surprised?’ I asked drily.

‘A bit,’ he replied, gobsmacked.

‘You’re not the only one. People generally think I’m the floozy triplet.’

I offered up his cigarette, but he shook his head, still looking a bit stunned. The smoke was adding to my dizziness so I sat forward, opened the door and threw the cigarette out.

‘Remind me to hide the butt in the morning,’ I said, starting in surprise as his hand slid up the back of my calf.

He froze, and then held both palms up. ‘Sorry.’

‘Did you forget who I was for a second?’ I asked mockingly, removing my foot from his chest. I’d seen him do that to Phoebe.

‘Fuck off,’ he said with annoyance.

‘Angus Templeton, you’ve got quite a temper on you tonight.’

‘Eliza Thomson, you’re a fine one to talk,’ he replied in the same tone of voice.

‘Do you think I’m an angry person?’ I asked, taken aback.

‘Well, you’re not all hearts and flowers like Rose, that’s for sure.’

‘You think Rose is hearts and flowers? She’s got some serious spikiness to her.’

‘I’m not saying she’s a push-over. But she’s softer than you and Phoebe are.’

I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘If Phoebe and I didn’t exist, would you fancy Rose?’

‘What a thing to ask!’

‘Answer me.’

His eyebrows pulled together as he thought about the question. ‘Well, no, probably not.’

That didn’t sound very definitive.

He shrugged. ‘I mean, she’s beautiful, she’s kind, she’s funny. Technically I
should
fancy her, but I don’t know.’

‘I think I’m going to call it a night,’ I said darkly, reaching for my boots and pulling them on.

‘Hang on, what’s wrong?’ He sat up, sounding genuinely baffled. ‘You did say if you and Phoebe didn’t exist.’

I shook my head, suddenly feeling hopeless as I stared back at him. ‘I don’t know, Angus. I shouldn’t give a damn who you like, and you shouldn’t give a damn who I like.
What’s wrong with us?’

We stared at each other for a long, heated moment. Butterflies crowded my stomach and went absolutely berserk.

‘Shit,’ he murmured.

‘No,’ I whispered, shaking my head a minuscule amount.

The next thing I knew our mouths were colliding.

Shivers rocketed up and down my spine as he tugged me onto his lap, my knees straddling his thighs. I kissed him back passionately, pushing my fingers through his hair as he pulled me hard
against him. It felt so good, I couldn’t bear for it to stop.

The more he kissed me, the more delirious I felt. The ache inside became more pressing, more intense. I needed more. He unzipped my hoodie and slid it down my arms, kissing my neck and biting
gently as my head spun and I stared up at the candlelit ceiling.

‘I want you,’ he whispered, making me tremble.

I slid my hands inside his shirt and his kisses became more frenzied as they traced the waistline of his jeans, coming to a rest on his belt buckle.

He said my name at the same time as Dad shouted it.

‘ELIZA! ARE YOU DOWN THERE?’

We both froze, but I came to my senses first.

‘YES!’ I shouted back, staring at Angus with wide-eyed alarm. If Dad found him here, he’d freak out.

‘YOU’LL CATCH YOUR DEATH OUT HERE! IT’S MINUS TWO!’

‘I’M COMING!’ I shouted back, climbing off Angus and pulling on my hoodie. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered. ‘He’ll be down here checking on me in a
minute.’

‘Hey,’ he said as I pushed open the door. ‘Wait.’

‘What?’

He pulled me to him and kissed my lips. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Tomorrow came, and with it the guilt. It was overwhelming. I wanted to blame the alcohol, but we hadn’t had that much to drink. I was so freaked out. If Dad hadn’t
interrupted us, how far would we have gone? Would we have had sex? Where would that have left me if we had? Absolutely broken.

It frightened me how much I’d lost my senses. In the cold light of day, I knew beyond any doubt that I could not have a serious relationship with the boy that my sister had lost her
virginity to. The thought of the two of us giving ourselves to the same guy made me feel sick with shame. I would have been the floozy triplet that people joked about. The slag. The slut.

I got up the next day and went into town, telling my parents that I was going busking. Angus texted me to ask which street I was on so I assumed he’d called round looking for me, but I
ignored him. I didn’t want him to find me.

He tried ringing, but I didn’t answer so he left a message saying that he’d see me at Darryl’s later. Mum and Dad were planning to drive Rose and me to the party after a meal
at a posh restaurant they’d booked weeks before. But there was no way I was going. They dropped Rose off and I went home to bed, claiming to be unwell. Early the next morning, I got up and
went to visit an old school friend who’d moved to Birmingham. Luckily she and her family were happy to put me up for a couple of days with next to no notice.

Angus didn’t stop calling or texting. Finally he left a message that was bound to get my attention: ‘I’m guessing that Rose told you what happened on New Year’s
Eve.’

Of course, I was desperate to know what he meant by that. So I called him back.

‘Eliza!’ he exclaimed. ‘What the hell? Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?’

‘I’m returning them now,’ I said. ‘What happened with Rose?’

‘Has she said anything?’ he asked circumspectly.

‘No.’

He fell silent. I heard him take a deep breath.

‘Tell me,’ I urged, feeling sick to the pit of my stomach because I had an idea of where he was headed.

‘I thought she was you,’ he said at last, confirming my suspicions.

‘Oh God,
Angus
!’ I felt faint.

‘I’m sorry!’ he blurted. ‘I was drunk! I wanted it to be you. I wanted to see you there. And she didn’t stop me!’

‘Of course she didn’t!’ I raised my voice, but I wasn’t angry. I was destroyed. I knew Rose had a crush on him. Her eyes had followed him around like a lovesick puppy
from the moment he’d moved in, but I never thought she’d let it go anywhere.

‘Liza, I’m so sorry,’ he said urgently. ‘I swear, I’ll never—’

‘Don’t call me again,’ I told him firmly, steeling myself. ‘Can’t you see how screwed-up this is? Let it go. Move on. I plan to.’

When we were invited to Somerset for Easter, I jumped at the chance. I wanted to avoid seeing Angus in person for as long as possible.

We saw each other that summer, but by then I was already going out with Jake. I hated the look of contempt in Angus’s eyes when he found out that we were ‘serious’, but I told
myself it was for the best. It was the closure we both needed. Angus ended up getting together with a girl from university after that – her name was Megan – but they didn’t go out
for long; only a couple of months. He had one other fling that I knew of, but it didn’t amount to much either.

Sometimes I had second thoughts about him. Dad’s death the year after almost broke me.

I was at my lowest ebb. I was nineteen and I’d had Dad to myself for only eighteen months. We’d grown very close. He had given up climbing the previous autumn under pressure from
Mum, and he had no hobby to occupy his time or take him away from us. He had finally been showing a real interest in me and what I was about, and he’d help me set up gigs and drive me to and
from the venues. He used to joke that he was my manager. We had such a giggle together. For the first time in my life, I’d felt like the apple of his eye.

I only just kept it together at the funeral. Mum asked me to sing Dad’s favourite song and I was wrecked, because I knew he would have wanted it too, so I couldn’t say no.

But it was the last thing I felt I could do. The idea of playing my guitar and singing a jaunty little song to a congregation of people, while my beloved dad was lying cold and lifeless in a
box, was abhorrent. I did the best that I could, singing my song to the last person who would ever call me Lizziebeth, but towards the end, tears started to stream down my cheeks.

I couldn’t sit back down. I had said my goodbye and didn’t have it in me to endure any more.

I felt a jolt of electricity spark up my arm as I passed the third pew and the low whisper of my name as Angus’s fingertips brushed against mine. I met his eyes and wanted nothing more
than to hold him and to have him hold me.

But by the time he’d found me, I’d come to my senses.

‘Liza,’ he said, his voice choking at the sight of me sitting on the grass, leaning up against a gravestone. He knelt down, but I flinched when he tried to touch me. I’d gone
all this time without crumbling and I was determined not to lose it now.

‘I’m just trying to be a friend,’ he said quietly, his eyes full of concern. ‘I miss you. I miss my friend.’

‘You and I could never have been together, Angus. You do know that, right?’

It was one of the very few times we ever spoke about what happened. Maybe if we’d both had it out properly at the beginning, we could have forgiven each other and eventually become mates,
but instead it had always been awkward.

‘It’s Phoebe or no one for you. Do you understand? If you don’t want her, you can’t have any of us.’

His stare hardened and he stood up and backed away.

Later I saw him holding Phoebe in his arms as she cried. I felt a bittersweet happiness for them. I could almost see the cracks in their broken relationship gluing themselves back together. I
was glad that he could comfort her. She deserved it. And they really did make a beautiful couple.

They still do.

But I would have preferred it if he’d chosen not to have any of us.

I arrive home from my futile flat search in London at eight o’clock, just as Rose is coming out of the front door. She recoils when she sees me.

‘What’s up?’ I ask. ‘Where are you off to?’

She glares at me. ‘I’m going to see Angus’s new apartment.’

‘Are you?’ I wrinkle up my nose. ‘Why?’

‘I’m helping him unpack Phoebe’s things,’ she replies, already on the defensive.

I can’t help it. I let out a snort of laughter. ‘Are you for real? Haven’t you got enough sorting out to do? Or is Angus more important to you than Mum?’

‘Fuck off, Eliza,’ she hisses, and I don’t even flinch because I know what I said was mean. She continues. ‘Just because you’re a devious little bitch who wants to
get into his pants—’

‘What are you talking about?’ I interrupt, paling.

‘I know about you! I know about you and Angus! You betrayed Phoebe years ago and you’re probably
still
betraying her now!’

I shake my head. ‘No. You’re off your rocker. There is
nothing
going on between Angus and me. Nothing. If anyone wants him, it’s you. You with your soppy, puppy dog
eyes. You make me sick. Get a life.’

For a split-second, I think she’s going to slap me. ‘I’m telling Phoebe,’ she warns, suddenly serious.

‘Telling her what?’ I snap.

‘About what you and Angus got up to when you were eighteen. How you were
this close
to shagging him.’

I gawp at the thumb and forefinger she’s holding in front of my face, a centimetre apart. How does she know that? Did Angus tell her? Is he
trying
to wreck his wedding? I’m
stunned. But no, he wouldn’t have done that. Hang on a second...