Fault (Define Book 3) Page 6

  “Noah’s not old! And no, they’re not bloke-y blokes. They’re both really sweet in their own way.”

  “How old is he? If his dad’s so frail, then Noah must be getting on a bit.” I gave in to Lauren’s less-than-subtle prodding.

  “His dad’s only in his fifties. He had a stroke. Noah’s twenty-four.”

  “Oh my God! So he’s, like, given up his life to look after his dad? That’s awesome but also a little bit sad, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so. He seems to have found a way to still have a career and be at home. He seems happy enough.” Well, he had every time I’d been there, anyway.

  “Yeah, but twenty-four? He should be living life to the fullest. You know, shagging around and so on. I mean, it’s not like he can take girls back there, is it?” She stood and swaggered around. “Sorry, love. You just lie there and play with yourself while I go and wipe Dad’s arse,” she said in an exaggerated Midlands accent.

  “It’s not like that. For one, he doesn’t have to do that sort of thing for his dad. And anyway, Noah isn’t like that.” Her acting had been a million miles from the Noah I knew.

  “Is he gay? Or no, I’ve got it!” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “You’re going to be his sex slave, aren’t you? Oh my God, Grace, is that what this is? If so, you can come and stay at mine. My sofa’s comfy enough for a few nights. And I spend most nights at Mack’s flat anyway.” Lauren’s natural tendency towards the dramatic was why she was so successful at work, but it did make her draining to be around sometimes.

  “Shut up! It’s nothing like that. Do you really think I’d let myself get caught up in that? Noah’s just a really nice person who is helping me out. In return, I help him with Max. End of.”

  “Oh no. You like him, don’t you? I can tell from your tone of voice. You can’t hide it from me! Oh God, babe, you fancy him!”

  “Bugger off, Lauren. No, I don’t fancy him. There’s nothing more to it. Jesus, you expect everyone’s life to be like an episode of Eastenders.”

  I left her there and went to the bathroom, aware of the irony that, recently, my life would give any soap opera a run for its money.

  The afternoon session passed quickly and Lauren semi-apologised when we locked up, but I was still mulling over what she had said. Did I fancy Noah? My younger crush was proof that I had found him attractive and, honestly, still did. He embodied tall, dark and handsome, with a quiet dose of geekery thrown in for good measure. But it was his thoughtfulness and the way he cared for Max that was beginning to appeal as much as his toned body and deeply dark eyes. I struggled to keep my attention on the other vehicles as I made my way back to the house, worried in case this new realisation would be as obvious to him as it had been to Lauren.

  Max and Noah were waiting and, after quickly swapping my Stagestars top for a clean shirt, we left for the supermarket. When Jake died, food shopping was one of the things that left with him. Sometimes there would be food in the house, sometimes not. The only thing I could guarantee would be in the fridge would be beer, Jim’s housekeeping contribution. If Mum wasn’t around to pay, Josh and I would pool our money and buy a frozen pizza from the local shop. It was no wonder Josh had jumped at any chance he had to stay at the Jacksons’ house.

  Once Max was set up in his wheelchair, I collected a trolley and a basket. “It’s for my things,” I said to Noah when he looked at me quizzically. We made our way round the store, Noah planning the week’s menu with Max and me dutifully collecting the items they needed. Almost half of the trolley was filled with fruit and vegetables, some of which I’d never seen before. Knowing I had the last of my supermarket vouchers from the hostel to spend, I picked up a few snacks I liked, a tub of rocky road ice cream from the freezer section and a bottle of shampoo.

  When we reached the checkout, I helped to empty the trolley contents onto the conveyor belt and then placed the little territory spacer down before emptying my basket. As we packed the bags together, I was struck by how couple-y the activity was; all it needed was for Max to be fifty years younger and in a pushchair and we’d be a ready-made family. Noah’s ease with the whole scenario made my chest tighten. Did I really want this life? How had I lost my old life so quickly?

  When Noah moved the spacer—my spacer—and told the checkout assistant that it was all together, I lost it. I can’t even remember what I said, just the tears and refusal to let my items be scanned before I walked away, leaving him to it. By the time I was back in control of myself, I was stood outside the store as he helped Max into the car.

  Noah came over, a concerned look on his face as he handed me the bag of my things. “Let’s go home, Grace.”

  “That’s the point. It’s not my home. It’s yours. And buying me things isn’t going to change that.”

  “I’m not going to have this discussion here. Are you coming or not?” The petulant child in me wanted to refuse, to walk home leaking melted ice cream, but I was all too aware I wasn’t a child anymore. I walked over to the car and got in, silence being all I was willing to give him at that point.

  After a quick dinner of pasta, I was washing up when Noah came in and shut the kitchen door, sitting on one of the stools opposite where I stood.

  “Do you want to tell me what caused that meltdown in the supermarket?” The softness of his tone told me he wasn’t being judgemental in his choice of words. I carried on washing up, unsure how to articulate what had gone through my mind. “Grace, please talk to me. I’m your friend. I want to help.” The tightness of his facial expression told me that I wasn’t going to get away with a superficial response.

  I rinsed the dishwater away and dried my hands before sitting down next to him.

  “I panicked. Two days ago, I was living in a hostel for homeless kids, yet today I’m here and we’re playing happy families at the supermarket. It’s overwhelming. You’re overwhelming.” I could see that my words had upset him, but I knew honesty was the only route through this. “Noah, my life has been chaos since Dad died. I can barely remember normal family life and it’s unsettling that, in the space of just a few days, everything has changed so much. I’m used to arguments, mess, an empty fridge, noise, dirt… everything this isn’t.”

  “Tell me about it. Help me understand.” His quiet concern was further evidence of the point I was making.

  “I suppose we were your typical family when I was a kid: Mum, Dad, three kids, etc. But when Dad died, everything changed. Mum changed. When I’m feeling positive about her, I’d say that her heart was broken. On other days, I hate her for breaking ours. She fell apart. We lost the house and all the memories of Dad in it. Mum struggled to keep a job, so money was tight. Everything stopped: family dinners, days out, holidays.

  “As he got older, Jake tried to step up and be the man, but by then he was competing with the endless list of boyfriends Mum had, each one worse than the one before. They’d move in, create havoc, and move out, and then Mum would fall apart a little bit more. Jake made life bearable, looking after me and Josh, making sure we were safe. But when—” I struggled to say the words, knowing that Jake’s death had hit me harder than losing Dad. “When I lost him, I lost the only person who was taking care of me. I’ve tried to take care of Josh like Jake did, but I can’t do it.” My heart hurt as I remembered how Jake was stolen from us by a terrible accident that could have been so easily avoided. At some point, Noah had taken my hand in his and just held it, silently supporting my tearful outpouring.

  “So, what with the trip to Ikea and the supermarket, it’s like my life has been shifted into some parallel universe. These past twenty-four hours have been more normal than any other time in my life, Noah, and that scares me. Because it’s not normal. Not for me. My dad and my brother are dead. My mum is in prison. My brother is living with a foster family. I have no idea what my future holds, if anything. But there we were, packing our organic vegetables!

  “And then you wanted to buy my crisps and ice cream, the only things that felt like the
y belonged in my life. And you were so lovely yesterday in Ikea, helping me to create such a beautiful room, but it’s not my room. My room has ten-year-old bed linen and a broken mirror. It has my books, my clothes, my memories, however crap they may be. Honestly, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but it’s just too much, too soon. Do you get what I mean?” I wondered if this was going to be the point where he told me that he had changed his mind, that he didn’t want to deal with the baggage I carried.

  “I think so. Thank you for being so honest, Grace. That means a lot. If this is going to work, you’re going to have to tell me when I’m pushing too hard, when I’m overwhelming you. I want you to have a normal life, a happy life. You deserve it.” He put his arm around me and pulled me to him.

  Resting my head on his shoulder, I savoured the feeling of protection it gave me. It felt so different to being hugged by Josh, who still had the scrawny leanness of a teenager. Noah felt solid. Strong.

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. This isn’t a one-way street, you know. You’ve transformed our lives too. Dad is so much happier. So am I. This is friends helping each other out. Okay?”

  “Friends. Okay.” I snuggled into his shoulder as he hugged me to him a little closer. I tried not to notice the way each of his fingers was burning their print into my skin, never to be forgotten.

  Friends.

  TIRED AND EMOTIONAL was not the best way to wake up on any day, let alone my birthday. But sitting up in bed after one of the worst night’s sleep ever, that was how I felt. There I was, in a room that still felt too strange to call home, all by myself: no cards, no gifts, no anything. The last thing I wanted to do was be around people, but I knew I owed it to Josh not to cancel our lunch. I just wanted the day over as quickly as possible.

  I allowed myself to think back to my seventeenth birthday and grieve at how much had changed in those twelve months. Josh and Jake had woken me up with a very off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” and a plate of bacon sandwiches. Jake had then driven us to Aberystwyth for a day of paddling, playing in the arcade and sharing chips with seagulls. It had been proof that you didn’t need money to show someone you cared. I wished I had known it would be my last birthday with Jake. I would have savoured every single second, not just every minute, sweeping up each grain of memory to keep safely for the times I would need to feel comfort and love. Times like this.

  Hiding away from the reality of my new world, I huddled under the duvet and cried. Cried for Jake. Cried for Dad. Cried for me.

  “HI, GRACE. HAPPY birthday!” Beth said as I got into the back seat. She had insisted on driving both Josh and me so I could ‘have a drink to celebrate’. I don’t think she understood that a cider over a late Sunday lunch with your fifteen-year-old brother is hardly the way most people celebrate turning eighteen.

  “Thanks. Hey, Josh.”

  “Hey.”

  “How was the end of term?”

  “Fine.” Great. We weren’t even at the restaurant and we’d already run out of conversation.

  “Any special plans for the next few weeks?”

  “Nah.” Cue more silence. I wondered how much alcohol I would need to put up with his monosyllabic communication.

  “How’s the flat-hunting going?”

  Beth surprised me with her question.

  “It’s not. I’m happy where I am so I’ve stopped looking.”

  “Oh.” She allowed a dramatic pause before continuing. “I thought it was just a short-term solution? You know, until you found a place of your own?”

  “No. Noah said I can stay as long as I want to, and he’s all set up as my official landlord now.” The awkwardness was palpable as we pulled into the car park.

  “Actually, Grace, I wondered if I could have a quick chat with you before you go in,” Beth said. “Could you give us a couple of minutes, please, hun?”

  Josh noiselessly obliged and waited outside. Beth twisted in her seat to talk to me.

  “Are you sure you’ve made the right choice about where to live? I know I’m not your mum or anything, but I feel it’s my duty to look out for you and I’m just not sure it’s appropriate for a girl your age to be staying in a house with just two men.”

  My cheeks burned red with anger at her insinuation.

  “Well, Beth, I’m just not sure there is anywhere more appropriate. Nobody else would let me live with them.” I gave her a few seconds to digest her own part in that before carrying on. “And I didn’t see any bedsits or house-shares that were anything resembling appropriate. So yes, I have made the right choice. As far as I see it, it’s my only choice. Thank you for the lift. I’ll get Josh to text you when we’re finished.” I got out of the car and walked away, hoping that Josh would follow me.

  Over lunch, he told me the Jacksons had invited him to go on holiday to Spain with them. Although I’d miss him for the two weeks he’d be away, I was glad he was getting the opportunity to go abroad. He didn’t even bother asking if Mum had been in touch, knowing the inevitable reply would put a damper on both our moods.

  At the end of the meal, he handed over the gift bag he had left sitting next to him whilst we ate.

  “Here you go. I hope you like it.”

  I leant over and kissed him on the cheek, laughing at the way he swerved to avoid it. He had opted for his usual joke card, but the weight of the present told me it wasn’t the book token or gift card he usually gave. I unwrapped the box and opened up the tissue paper. How had my teenage, emotionally immature brother managed to find the one thing I hadn’t realised I wanted?

  “It’s beautiful, Josh. So, so perfect. I love it!” I lifted the glass paperweight to look at it more closely. The clear glass dome refracted light in every direction, but my focus was drawn to the photograph beneath the glass. I recognised the picture of Mum, Dad and the three of us; it had sat in a wooden frame next to the TV for years. But this version was different. It was now black and white and filtered to make what had been a very mundane family photo into something artistic and beautiful. “I can’t believe my little brother could be so thoughtful,” I said, giving him no choice but to be pulled into a hug.

  “Yeah, well, I thought you might be missing us all.” The glassy look in his eyes told me I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

  “We might not be living together, Josh, but we still love each other, right? I’m here whenever you need me, okay?”

  “Okay.” One tear escaped and trickled from the corner of his eye. He sniffed and pulled away.

  “I’m just popping to the loo,” I said, wanting to give him a moment to compose himself before Beth arrived.

  Beth offered some semblance of an apology for her earlier comments by arriving with a large bunch of flowers. I said the right things to appear grateful, but I was still so pissed off with her that all I wanted to do was bin them. When she dropped me off, I ignored her attempts to get invited in and shot out of the car after the quickest of goodbyes, waving them off before I opened the front door to my inappropriate new home.

  Directly in my line of vision, Noah was stood on a ladder, changing a light bulb in the kitchen. I tried not to look at the way his jeans hugged his rear, at the pull of his shirt across his back muscles.

  “Is there any chance of a lift to my house this evening? I want to pick up some of my stuff.” The paperweight had inspired me to bring some of my old life into the new.

  “Of course. We can go now if you want. I’m just about done here.” A final stretch exposed a sliver of skin just above his waistband and my fingers itched to stroke its smoothness.

  “There’s no hurry. Later is fine.” I was in no rush to lose my front row seat to the best show in town.

  “There’s no point in putting it off,” Noah said, probably thinking my response was reluctance to return to the scene of so much unhappiness. He stepped off the ladder and saw the flowers and gift bag in my hand. “Celebrating something?”

  “It’s my bi
rthday,” I admitted.

  “What?”

  “It’s my birthday.”

  Noah folded his arms across his chest. “And when were you going to tell me?”

  “I did tell you. I told you that my birthday was coming up and that was why I had to sort my housing out.”

  “But you didn’t say it was today. Why wouldn’t you say anything?” He raked his hand through his hair. My slightly tipsy brain wondered what his hair would feel like if it were my fingers running through the dark layers.

  “It’s not important. I only went because Josh wanted to celebrate it.”

  “I disagree. It is important. Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Once Beth was out of the way. Josh was super-sweet and got me a rude card but his present was so lovely. Let me show you.” I managed to drop the flowers whilst trying to get the paperweight out and talk at the same time.

  “Did you have a drink?” Noah grinned at my clumsiness and picked up the flowers.

  “Maybe. Because I can now. I’m legal! Ooh, I don’t mean in that way! Hang on, I was already legal for that, wasn’t I?”

  “Congratulations! How many did you have? You know, just for the record?”

  “Two.”

  “Jesus, I’d love to see you after a few! Thinking about it, Grace, I don’t think you should go back to the house today. You’re in a happy mood and it’s your birthday. Going there might just bring you down. We could go tomorrow instead. I’ll be back from work by six so we could go after dinner.”

  I thought about his suggestion. “But what am I going to do now?”

  “I suggest you start with a glass of water,” he joked. “I don’t know, birthday girl, what do you want to do?” It took me a minute to think about it.

  “I want to go for a walk by the lake.” The idea had come from nowhere, a hidden memory.

  “Sounds good. Let’s see what Dad says.” I drank some water and waited for him to return. “He doesn’t want to go out but will be fine for a little while by himself. Okay if it’s just me?”