This Could Change Everything(69)

‘I know I would. And I’ll meet her one day, I promise. But not yet.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why not. Don’t be cross with me, Lucas. I can’t help it.’

All the old emotions were bubbling up. ‘I know. I do know. I’m not cross, I just want to see you. How about if I come up on my own?’

‘I’m fine, Lucas, but don’t pressure me. I can’t see you, I’m sorry. I just need more time.’

‘But—’

‘If you come to the house, I won’t let you in.’ The panic was rising in her voice, as it always did. ‘Please don’t do that, Lucas.’

‘OK, calm down, I won’t. I just want to know that you’re . . . all right.’

Well, as all right as she could ever be.

‘You deserve so much better than me.’ Her voice grew husky, thick with tears. ‘I’ve been a terrible mother. I do love you, Lucas. I love you so much. I’m s-sorry . . .’

‘Mum, I—’

Too late. She’d already hung up.

This was how his calls to her always ended. Lucas sat back and pictured his beautiful, damaged, chaotic mother, who would now undoubtedly be sobbing in earnest. His heart ached for her as, for the second time in ten minutes, he said, ‘I love you too.’

A hefty slap on the back almost knocked him off the bench.

‘Blimey, fella,’ boomed Brendan Banks, on his way over to the Red House for his first drink of the day. ‘Don’t let that lovely young lady of yours hear you say that!’

Since this was how rumours started, Lucas said firmly, ‘I was talking to my mother.’

‘Ha, course you were!’ Tapping the side of his red nose, Brendan bellowed, ‘No worries, I won’t say anything. Mum’s the word!’

‘You don’t have to stay and watch, you know,’ said Giselle. ‘It’s pretty weird for me too.’

Lucas couldn’t not look, though; it was like feeling compelled to view one of those David Attenborough wildlife documentaries where repulsive things were happening. Only instead of a gang of hyenas ripping an impala to shreds, he was having to witness his pregnant girlfriend eating her way through a bowl of hot piccalilli as if it were ice cream. And she’d been trying to hide it from him, but he’d spotted her cramming liquorice allsorts into her mouth too.

And to think people thought pregnant women eating lumps of coal was strange.

‘Go,’ said Giselle, waving her spoon at him. ‘I know it’s gross, but I can’t help it. Go on downstairs and leave me to be disgusting in peace.’

Downstairs, Jude and one of the new barmen were busy serving a sizeable influx of German tourists. Joining them behind the bar to help out, Lucas did his best to ignore Brendan, who was sitting on his usual stool quoting what he thought were hilarious jokes from Fawlty Towers.

Finally, Lucas caught the eye of the customer standing patiently behind Brendan. ‘Hi, what can I get you?’

‘Well, I just have a question, if that’s OK. Is . . . umm, Essie Phillips working here today?’

Lucas knew at once who he was. It was the air of hesitation that gave the game away; this was no casual friend dropping by on the off chance. ‘No, she isn’t. Sorry.’

‘Ah. But does she work here?’

‘Luckily for us,’ declared Brendan, twisting round to view the man who’d asked the question. ‘Brightened this place up a bit, I can tell you, since she’s been here. Why, got your eye on her, have you?’ He gave the newcomer a jovial nudge. ‘Join the queue!’

‘I’m an old friend.’ The newcomer looked faintly horrified. ‘I was hoping to see her today.’

‘Sorry,’ said Lucas. ‘She won’t be in.’

‘But she might be at home.’ For all his laddish banter, it was apparent that Brendan did actually realise he didn’t stand a chance with Essie. Helpfully, he announced, ‘She lives right here on the square. You could go over there now and see if she’s in.’

Surprised, the man said, ‘Really? Whereabouts?’

Lucas began, ‘I don’t think you should tell—’

But it was already too late; Brendan was off his stool and leading the stranger over to the door. Pulling it open, he pointed diagonally across the square. ‘See the one with the purple front door and the Merc parked outside? That’s the place. Just ring the doorbell and ask for her – she’s got the flat on the second floor.’

‘Thanks,’ said the man. ‘I will.’

When Brendan had returned to the bar, Lucas said, ‘How do you even know which one is Essie’s flat?’

‘I was walking past the other week and spotted her.’ Brendan looked smug. ‘I waved up to her and she waved back.’

And for a ridiculous moment, Lucas experienced a pang of completely irrational jealousy, because Essie had waved to Brendan but she’d never waved at him.

Oh God, what’s happening to me?

Essie, back from a trip to the shops, was just trying on the stripy trousers she’d picked up in Oxfam when the doorbell rang. Which meant she didn’t have a moment to lose, because the bulky jacket she’d bought on eBay would be whisked away by the impatient courier if she didn’t answer the door in three seconds flat.