Two Kinds Of Truth(31)

Keira lets out a sigh. “As if.”

“I’m serious. I wanted to check with you first, to make sure you’re happy to continue running the florist in my absence.”

She clicks her tongue in the roof of her mouth—an annoying habit she picked up after hitting puberty.

“Like you need to ask. Of course, it’s fine. I’ve told you before: stay as long as it takes to get you two back on track. Besides, the shop’s thriving and I haven’t run off with the takings…yet.”

“I’d hunt you down and stab you with a prickly rose if you did,” I tell her, and Keira lets out a chuckle.

“Ah, just the thought is enough to keep me on the straight and narrow,” but then she hesitates. “And what about Jamie? Have you given him a wide berth?”

“I told you, he was a mistake.”

“Good. I’m just checking. I don’t want any more revelations that could cause me sleepless nights.”

I play with a strand of hair and curl my feet under a cushion on the sofa. I enjoy hearing her voice. She cares what happens to me and it soothes me. By the time we finish catching up, the clock on the wall chimes midnight.

I’m far more relaxed when I end the call and head to the bathroom, to clean my teeth and undress. The bottom of my spine still hurts, though. I turn on the tap, fill a glass with cold water and take two painkillers, then swill my mouth and replace the glass.

My bare feet fall silent as I come out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I adore this room, decorated with its blue and white chintz. The bed frame’s white, the mattress thick and luxurious. I switch on a bedside lamp and smooth my hand over the duvet before flicking over the corner, then climb into bed, easing my aching limbs onto the cold sheet. Once I’ve punched my pillows into shape and made myself comfortable, I pick up a book from off the bedside table and open it at its bookmark. I want to try and wait up for Callum, to talk to him. So far today, we’ve hardly had the chance to say two words to each other.

I’ve only read a few pages before my eyelids grow heavy, unaware when the book slips from my fingers and onto the floor. I don’t hear Callum come to bed an hour or so later, or feel the gentle kiss he plants on my forehead. Nor am I aware that he picks up the book and places it onto the bedside table, or that he strokes my face as he switches off the light.





Chapter 8


Jamie



I enter the kitchen and sit at the table, reaching for the morning paper. My stomach tightens as I glance at today’s date: Wednesday, 23rd of February.

I feel a draught against my cheek as the kitchen door swings open.

“Hey, bro, looks to be the start of a mighty fine day.”

I tear my eyes from the newspaper. “Speak of the devil and he’s sure to appear,” I say, turning over the page.

Maddie enters the room. She comes and stands beside me.

“Morning, Jamie,” she says lightly, “any tea in the pot?”

I nod, glare at Callum and then focus my eyes back towards the headlines. Brexit is still hitting the news and I try to digest the words, but I swear to God I can feel Callum’s eyes burning right through the back of my skull. I throw the newspaper down onto the kitchen table and the chair scrapes against the stone floor as I rise.

“Going somewhere?” Callum asks, cocking his head to one side.

“Aye, I’m off to clean out the stables.”

Maddie takes a sharp intake of breath.

“Oh, would you like help with that?”

I stop and turn towards her. I want to say no, to ask her to stay away from me, but I can’t. She’s standing there, her eyes keen, and I clench my jaw, unwilling to give in. But she bounces from one foot to the other, like a little school kid.

“Come on Jamie, let me.”

I lean against the doorframe. “Aye, all right, if ye wannae come, that’s fine with me.”

She gives me the widest grin I’ve ever seen as she dashes past, then I hear her scrabbling about in the hallway, searching for her boots.

I turn to leave, but Callum rushes over and grabs me by the arm.

“Tell me you’ll go through with it,” he hisses, close to my ear. My muscles tense and I yank my arm free, then turn towards him, our faces just millimetres away from one another. We’re so close, our noses almost touch.

“Nae. I’ll do no such thing,” I say through gritted teeth. “Not now, not ever.”

His eyes search mine as though he’s looking deep inside my soul, his expression unfathomable, until he lets out a defeated sigh. I turn away, leaving him standing there, alone.

“Are you all right?” Maddie asks when I slam the kitchen door behind me. I thrust my fingers through my hair and put on a painted smile.

“Aye, I’m grand, lassie. I just need to get a move on.”

“Wait for me,” I hear her cry as I make for the outer door, but I don’t. I keep on going, out into the yard. I’m angry and afraid, afraid of what I might say to her. I can’t do what my brother asks of me, yet I’m filled with guilt. I’m not to blame for the predicament they find themselves in, and I curse my brother for ever having told me the truth. However, no matter how much he begs, I could never fulfil this wildest desire of his.

I lift the latch and pull open the door to one of the large sheds. Inside, I fish out a wheelbarrow and a couple of pitchforks and a shovel. I throw them into the barrow and use it to push the doors wide as I make my way out.