Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(5)

Cerys puts a hand to her necklace, the pendant sitting just above the top of her dress and she twists the gold chain around a finger, glaring at me. The diamonds set into the gold heart catch the light.

“I like your necklace,” I tell her.

“Sure, you were looking at my necklace, Liam…” Cerys sits on the chair next to Ella and pushes on her black heels.

“You look pretty, Mummy,” says Ella.

“Thank you, Baby.” She kisses Ella’s head and musses her hair.

“You smell good, too.”

Louise sniggers and I shoot her a warning look in case she decides to share our earlier conversation. Raising both eyebrows, she opens her mouth, still looking at me. “Liam says you...”

For f-uck’s sake, her body grew but she’s still an annoying kid sister. “Shut up, Lou!”

I grab her around the waist and try to put my hand over her mouth.

Lou turns her face away, the giggling turning into gasping laughter. “Liam says you...” I clamp my hand over her mouth and hold her tight. She wriggles, trying to pull my hand from her mouth.

Cerys shakes her head, aware of the familiarity of the situation, too; she’s known us since we were in primary school.

When Louise breaks free, she shoves me. “You ruined my hair!”

I hold up my hand, fingers covered in deep red lipstick. “Yuk!”

“Liam! Now I have to put my make-up back on! You’re such an *!”

“You started it!” I retort.

“Screw you, big brother!” she calls as she heads toward the stairs.

I flick the mixer tap on over the sink and grab the hand wash. “Sometimes, I forget you’re Liam Oliver, the rock star,” says Cerys quietly. “You’re no different than the guy I knew growing up.”

I look through the open kitchen curtains toward the opposite houses decked out with Christmas lights. “Yeah. Seems a million miles from everywhere being here.” Lipstick removed from my hands, I grab the tea towel and turn around.

“What’s a rock star?” asks Ella.

Interesting. How do I define that to a four year old?

“Liam plays guitars, Ella. Like the ones in his bedroom. He’s a musician.”

“So he doesn’t collect rocks?”

I laugh. “Not recently. I don’t think you’d like my music though, not as good as... whatever you watched earlier.”

Me and Cerys exchange a smile.

“Mummy says I can go and see them,” announces Ella

“Oh?” I say.

“Peppa Pig and company are playing in Cardiff next year. Lucky me, huh?” says Cerys.

“Damn, we have competition! Not sure Blue Phoenix could match... what are they called again?”

“Peppa Pig,” says Ella. “I have one. I’ll show you.” She jumps down from her chair and disappears.

I reach over for my forgotten beer and Cerys folds her arms across her chest. Without Ella to cover the gaps, I don’t know what to say. It’s not like Cerys is some groupie who’s going to rave on about the band and fill in my need to speak. Plus, I rarely get a word in when I’m with Honey, so I’m lost what to say here. I know if I do open my mouth I’ll say something inappropriate. I won’t know why or what, but I usually do around chicks.

Honey.

Is it shit of me to have blanked her to the point she doesn’t exist? And if I have, does this mean she’s not in my heart? I stare at my bare feet. Shouldn’t the woman you’re going to marry be in your heart and soul? She cheated on me. Shouldn’t I be cut up about that rather than relieved at a way out?

“What are you thinking about?” asks Cerys.

“Honey.”

Curiously, Cerys’s cheeks turn pink and she busies herself tidying up after her daughter. See, told you I’d say something inappropriate. Why do I feel it’s inappropriate? Cerys knocks over the half-full glass of milk and the contents spill across the table and drip onto the floor.

“Shit!” she says and stares at the dripping milk, tears in her eyes.

Seriously, there’s something weird about how ready her tears are. I almost, and thankfully, stop myself, make a comment about crying over spilt milk. On the verge of stepping in and showing Cerys my awesome domestic skills with a roll of kitchen towels, Mum walks in.

“Is Ella ready for bed?” She spots the milk. “Did the little monkey make a mess?”

“She did,” I say, watching for Cerys’s reaction. “Little monkey.”

Cerys snaps her head around to me and I smirk. The lost look that hovers at the edge of her eyes retreats slightly as she shakes her head at me. In the kitchen, with Mum, a childhood friend, and the annoying sister I love who reappears in the doorway, I’m happy. An inside, heart-bursting happy. I don’t have to worry about what any of them think of me, because with them, I’m the old me.

But I’m not; I left this for something different. Different but not necessarily better.

CHAPTER 4



LIAM



We grow up and leave home, become adults in the outside world, forging our path in life. Then we come home to mums and dads, grandparents, family and all that new life is swept away by time rewinding. As I sit on the squeaky, black leather sofa and finish my sixth beer whilst sitting with Mum and Dad, I feel eighteen again.