CHAPTER 22
CERYS
Liam taps his fingers against his coffee cup as I brush Ella’s hair ready for school. I’m half-irritated he’s around and doing nothing, and half-excited he stayed a second night. Ella wriggles, complaining the brush is hurting her hair, but I know the real reason is she doesn’t like her hair tied into a ponytail.
“Stop fussing, you’ve got a week left at school and then you don’t have to do this.” Images of a scarecrow-haired Ella running around in her princess costumes for six weeks come to mind.
“School holidays,” says Liam with a smile. “Bet you can’t wait!”
“Me or her?”
“Both.”
I wrap a hair band around Ella’s thick, brown hair. “I guess.”
“Jordan is going to Greece,” Ella informs Liam.
“Really? Where are you going?” he asks her.
“We might go camping for a few days,” I say, releasing Ella.
“Camping?”
“You know, in a field, in the rain probably. Overseas holidays are out of my price range.”
Liam places his empty cup on the table. “Come back to LA with me.”
I almost drop the brush. “What?”
“For the school holidays, come to LA. I’m working but not every day.” He glances at Ella. “We could go to Disneyland.”
At that moment, I’m prepared to smack him across the head. Hard. “Liam!”
Ella jumps up and starts hopping around the room shrieking about going to Disneyland. I stand. “You do not tell a child something like that out of the blue! Not if it may not happen.”
“Why not? She can go if her mum isn’t too boring to come to the States with me. Come on, Cerys, why not?”
I can’t think of an excuse and have to admit that a small part of me secretly feels like dancing round the room too. “I don’t know.”
“A hot rock star offers you a luxury holiday to LA and you have to think about it!”
I rub my head. “I’ll have to organise passports and I’d need to get some new things for Ella and...”
Liam grabs my hand and squeezes. “Cerys. Let go of your practicality for five minutes. When I’m away from you all I want is to be back with you again, so this makes perfect sense. When I’ve finished the session work in LA, I’ll come back to England and stay around. This is the answer until then. You don’t need to be on your own, and I want you with me.”
For a week, maybe two, I could avoid having the Liam sized hole in my life. How could I deny my daughter a trip to Disneyland? Or myself a trip into the fantasy world of celebrity.
****
A week and a half later I arrive in LA with Ella, dressed in her yellow Princess Belle costume. Luckily, she didn’t behave like a princess on our First Class flight, even though the cabin crew treated her like one. I’ve never travelled further than the European mainland, so this is going to be a test of my comfort levels.
When I told Phoebe about Liam’s offer, she couldn’t understand why I didn’t say ‘yes’ on the spot, and I tried to explain how nervous I am about putting myself in someone else’s hands again. She told me I needed my head examined, to stop being ridiculous, to go and enjoy myself. Then Phoebe whispered that if I didn’t want to go, she would and don’t tell her husband. At that point, I realised how stupid I was being.
Craig’s renewed interest in Ella continues and, after a frosty meeting, we came to an arrangement. The agreement for him to see Ella every other weekend is loose because he randomly appears on days he ‘feels like’ seeing her. Even though his lack of contact with Ella over the last few months has upset her and annoyed me, his lack of interference in our life allowed me to breathe.
Single motherhood is hard, but my new life has opened my eyes to everything wrong in the old one. I’m not a hundred percent free of Craig’s control because I need financial support for Ella, but I intend to get a job as soon as Ella goes to school full time. We don’t need Craig, and I definitely don’t need him toying with Ella’s feelings the way he once did with mine.
Craig knows I’ve taken Ella on holiday, but not where or who with.
Ella takes everything in her stride; we could be half an hour from home, not halfway across the world, as she excitedly chats about all the new sights around her as we navigate the airport. The brightness of the lights hurts my tired head, not helped by the one champagne too many on the flight over. Ella and I are directed away from the other passengers by a concierge, toward the place Liam waits for us.
I last saw Liam a week ago; but each day away from him, the ache to be with him again spreads. He’s standing at the end of a smaller hallway, resting against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles. When he sees us, his bored expression disappears and he straightens. For once, he’s not wearing jeans, dressed in black board shorts and a blue sleeveless t-shirt revealing more of his tattoos and bright ink than usual. As Liam steps toward me, I run to him. Liam scoops me off the floor and kisses me hard, as if we’ve been apart months. I cling to him, burying my face in his neck, and inhaling the clean scent of his skin. I don’t want him to let me go. I never want Liam to let me go. And that’s a bigger step out of my comfort zone than this trip.
He sets me down, arms still around my waist, and crouches down to greet Ella. “Are we going to Disneyland now?” she asks.
“Er... Not today, Ella. Aren’t you tired?” replies Liam.
“No. When are we going?”
“Ella, don’t be rude. Liam has paid for us to come on holiday, but he works too. We’ll go when he has time.”
“You can come for a swim in my pool instead,” Liam says, and ruffles her hair.
This appeases Ella and as we continue out of the airport, the three of us holding hands, I nudge Liam in the ribs. “You are going to regret telling her about Disneyland every minute, of every day until you take her there.”
****
Liam’s place is less than an hour’s drive from the airport, out of the city and along winding roads overlooking the brightness of the painted blue sky and azure ocean. Already Wales is a lifetime away. Ella’s excited chattering slows and half-way I look over my shoulder at the sleeping princess. Finally.
“You have no idea how happy I am you’re here,” says Liam, taking my hand and kissing it as he drives.
I don’t want to let go of the warm hand encompassing mine and place our hands on my lap. “Thank you.”
“What for? This is pure selfishness on my part. I want you here, simple.”
I laugh softly and he squeezes my knee.
My knowledge of mansions comes from reality TV shows and American soaps. Behind electric gates and a barrier of pink frangipani and palm trees, a gravelled driveway heads away. A white building emerges as Liam drives through. The place has a Mediterranean feel to the architecture with a white fa?ade and ornate pillars. I get out of the air-conditioned BMW, hit by the humid heat, and stare at the dream in front of me. On the journey over, Liam informed me his house is small by local standards, but five of the house I live in would fit inside this one sprawling half the length of my street back in Cardiff.
Liam appears next to me holding a sleeping Ella. “You look as tired as her, come on.”
In a speechless daze, I follow him through glazed double entrance doors into the marble-floored hallway.
Liam strides through the high ceilinged rooms toward the back of the house. “Come and look at my view.”
Windows reach from the wood paneled ceiling to the tiled floor and spread the length of the room, leading to a balcony. Expansive lawns perfectly tended, to the point they look like carpet, stretch to the edge of the cliffs, and a pathway cuts through toward the white sandy shore below.
“Private beach,” he grins.
“Wow,” is all I can manage.
The low whirr of ceiling fans circle cool air and the scent of nearby jasmine through the room; I sink onto the sumptuous grey cushions of the day bed and gaze out of the window.
Liam sets Ella next to me. “She’s heavier than she was at Christmas.”
“Christmas. That feels like five years ago, not seven months.”
“I wish you’d come back with me then.” He sits and pulls my legs onto his lap, rubbing my calves. “So much crap could’ve been avoided.”
“Everything happens for a reason,” I say. “Even the bad stuff.”
“I want to keep you protected from anymore bad stuff, Cerys. Starting with lots of good while you’re here.”
“Including Disneyland.”
He rolls his eyes. “Including Disneyland.”
“I suggest you buy a season ticket,” I say with a smile.
“I think I have a lot to learn about parenting, huh?” Liam rubs his cheek and looks at the snoozing Ella.
Then I see it. Liam’s fantasy is here too, his fantasy of me, him and Ella all together and living an easy life. His clear love for Ella comes naturally from his huge heart and his easy empathy with people around him, and his childish nature. At the back of my mind, a worry niggles. If this doesn’t work out, I won’t be the only girl left with a broken heart.
****
LIAM
Oh, crap, did I do the right thing?
I have trouble reading women sometimes but Cerys’s pink face and tight mouth are unmistakable as she studies the young woman in front of her. Emily sits on a white chair on the patio, long, tanned legs crossed, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.
“Can I talk to you, please, Liam?” Cerys says tersely and smiles sweetly at Emily.
“Sure thing,” Emily says and disappears toward the home theatre room where Ella watches TV.
“What were you thinking?” Cerys hisses at me.
Shit, I knew it. “Umm.”
“Umm?”
This is Cerys’s holiday too and I want her to have time to do the things for herself, not just with Ella, so I brought in a babysitter. Well, nanny I guess. Talk about going down like a lead balloon. Maybe I should’ve waited until tomorrow but I’m f-ucking desperate to spend time alone with Cerys. Doesn’t she want time out, too?
“Emily helps out Pete and Leeann, friends of mine. She’s really lovely, and she’s qualified. Ella will be fine.”
Cerys rubs her eyes and glares at me. “Why didn’t you ask me? I wake up after a jet lagged rest and find a strange woman with my daughter!”
“She’s not strange, I know her! Ella likes her too.”
“And that makes it okay?”
“Shit, Cerys, I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I’m not going to put Ella in any danger, am I?”
“This holiday is for both of us; I want to spend time with her.”
“And I said I’m selfish. I want you. Yes, I know Ella is part of the package; but come on, you deserve to be Cerys, and not Ella’s mum round the clock.”
Especially when you look like you do and I haven’t had you in my bed for over a week. Her tight shirt across the tits I constantly get admonished for staring at and the ‘too short’ shorts begging me to slide my hands across her ass are distracting me from the argument. This woman needs to loosen up.
Cerys makes an exasperated noise, turns on her heel, and heads in the direction Emily went. She pauses. The TV screen dominates one wall, and Ella is lying back in a leather recliner chair with a cup of something I hope she’s allowed to drink in the holder next to her. Emily is in the next seat and they both sing along to the Disney movie filling the room with a brightness Cerys doesn’t match.
I warily look at Cerys. “At least you get a break from this. How many times have you watched this movie now?”
She doesn’t speak but leaves the room. Her bare feet slap across the floor as she heads toward the wide marble staircase.
“Cerys!”
I find her in the bedroom where the white sheets are crumpled from her afternoon sleep. Cerys gazes out of the window at the ocean vista. When I walk over and touch her shoulder, she turns a tear streaked face to me. I run my hands across my head.
“f-uck, Cerys, did I screw up that bad? I did this to make you happy, and now you’re f-ucking crying!”
I sit on the edge of the bed, placing my hands on the cool linen. I will spend my life trying, but I doubt I will ever understand women. There’s nothing complicated here, surely.
Cerys doesn’t respond.
Jesus, I give up. “Fine. I’ll tell Emily to leave. She wasn’t staying today anyway. I wanted you to meet her and chat and see if you liked her.” I stand.
“Liam, wait.” Cerys wipes her face. “I’m overreacting. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel better. This was a shock; you should know by now how cautious I am about Ella.”
“And everything,” I mutter. Common sense kicks in and I don’t elaborate, the mood she’s in Cerys would no doubt pack and leave if this descends any further.
“This is all surreal to me, Liam, and I’m anxious about being out of my depth. Here, with you, caring so much about you...you doing things like this and showing how much you care, too. It scares the crap out of me.”
“Oh, Cerys.” I go to her and attempt to hug her stiff figure. “Let go for a few days. Live. Be you. Enjoy this.”
Cerys wraps her arms around my waist. I place my head on her soft hair. This is what I crave more than anything in the world, holding Cerys and being with her, making memories and loving her. “I’m tired and not thinking. It would’ve been better if you’d warned me.”
“I told you I was selfish,” I say.
“No, you’re not selfish. You were thinking of me.”
“I am. I was thinking of me and you. I want us time.” I draw back and trace a finger from her cheek to her collarbone. “I was thinking about me and how much time I want alone with you.”
Her lips part as I continue to run my fingers along her skin, skimming the soft swell of her b-reasts. She catches my hand. “I have a whole two weeks’ worth of bad things I want to do to you,” I say. “Plus, I’m now frustrated with you too, which makes this worse.”
A hint of a smile hovers around Cerys’s mouth and she circles my arm with her hand. “I feel the same, but not now.”
I want to groan inwardly but the sound escapes. “Really?”
“Really.” Cerys places a finger on my lips and her tired eyes meet mine. “If Ella likes Emily, we can have lots of ‘us’ time.”
“I’m sure she will; I think they hit it off.” Us time, now. But this isn’t going to happen. Cerys isn’t in the frame of mind for what I want to do to her; and with Cerys, it matters.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, touching my face.
“What for?”
Cerys smiles in the coy way that turns me the f-uck on without her realising; and when she says the next words, she triggers all kinds of ball-aching thoughts. “For knowing when to hold my hand, and when to pull my hair.”
Oh, holy f-uck do I want to be the guy who pulls her hair. I grip Cerys to me, inhaling her scent as if for some crazy reason that’ll calm me down. “Lie down with me,” I say hoarsely, “I promise to leave your hair alone.”
Cerys nudges her nose into my chest, suppressing a giggle. “Okay.”
I release her, because if I drag her onto the bed with me, I’m not going to remain gentle. Instead, I lie on the rumpled sheets and she snuggles into me, spooning as she takes my arms to wrap around her. I take a calming breath and make do with a gentle nip of her neck and touch of her skin beneath her cotton top.
I want to tell Cerys that I love her, but the words aren’t enough. I’m not Dylan, I can’t express myself through poetic songs. What if she doesn’t feel the same and I scare her? What I do know is that the fire she ignited with the kiss at Christmas burns deep inside my soul and, as I hold her warm body against mine, I know nothing will ever extinguish how I feel about Cerys.