“It’s Lizzie’s, George, for Christ’s sake!” Mum put her head in her hands. “You’re giving me a migraine and it’s not even nine o’bloody clock yet!”
Dad’s eyes glowered. “Fine. I’ll drop you at bloody Lizzie’s house. What time?”
“But you have work…”
“WHAT TIME?”
I weighed it up. Mum wouldn’t even be home until eight. “Half eight?”
“Quarter past. I have a break between runs.”
“Cool,” I said, trying to seem a lot calmer than I felt.
I told Mark to meet me at half eight, at the pull-in at the bottom of the old recreation ground, but that meant time would be against me. I was wringing my hands by the time Dad picked me up, and that didn’t cease on the drive to Lawnside. I waved a lacklustre goodbye and walked slowly up to Lizzie’s block, hoping he’d pull away and drive off back to his own business, but he didn’t. He sat and watched me like a hawk. I had to go right up to the communal doorway and still he didn’t leave, so with trembling fingers I pressed the buzzer, praying to anyone who’d listen that someone would be home.
Ray’s slurry voice came through the intercom all crackled and demanding.
“What?”
“It’s Helen, is Lizzie in?”
Dad was still watching me. I tried to keep a smile on my face.
“Nah, she’s out.”
Fuck.
“Can I come up anyway?”
A moment’s silence, and I was willing him, really willing him.
“Fancy a bit of company do ya?”
My stomach tightened. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
The bleep of the door lock sounded and I was in. I held up a hand to Dad and climbed the stairs. Finally, once I’d reached Lizzie’s landing, I saw the car pull away. I breathed a sigh of temporary relief.
Ray opened the door in nothing but a pair of boxers. He had a can of cider in his hand, and looked at me with a smile that made me shiver.
“Where is she?”
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Is she with Scottie?”
“Who the fuck’s Scottie?”
“You know, Scottie her boyfriend…?”
He eyed me up and down. “Never heard of no bloody Scottie. She was with some girl. Blonde. Nice ass.”
Rachel. It twisted in my heart. “Ok, well, could you please give her a message?”
“Like she ever listens,” he laughed to himself. “Alright, what is it, sweet cheeks?”
“Please tell her that my parents think I’m with her tonight, staying over.”
He smirked. “You being a naughty girl, Hels? I’ll put ya over me knee if you ain’t careful, love.”
The idea made my skin crawl. “Thanks, Ray.”
“You ain’t coming in? Got a can for you. Watch some TV all cosy if you like?” He scratched at his boxers.
I was already backing away when I thanked him for his offer.
Mark was waiting. I dashed through the swings and nipped under the fence, darting around the car to slip into my seat with ragged breath. I asked him to drive away before I even had my seatbelt on.
“Are you alright, Helen? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“It’s Dad,” I said. “He knows I’m not with Harry.”
He didn’t seem fazed. “Ok. That’s not such a problem in itself, surely?”
So I explained the whole deal, everything. My stupid lies and Dad’s conspiracy theorist mentality, and Lizzie not being in. He listened calmly, and slowly my breathing calmed, too.
“We’ll figure something out.”
I was still trying Lizzie, but there was no answer. I sighed. “I hope so.”
“We will.” The town disappeared behind us, and his hand reached for my knee, squeezed it. “Relax.”
I put my hand on his, squeezed him tight. “I’m trying.”
“Just breathe, Helen. The night’s alive, and young. Enjoy it. We’ll have plenty of time to concern ourselves with logistics, I promise.”
“You aren’t worried?” My eyes fixed on his but his were on the road.
“I didn’t say that.” He sighed. “The situation isn’t ideal, but we’ll manage.”
“Dad won’t let it go,” I said. “He’s like a dog with a bone. On and on. He’ll want to know where I’m going. He’ll want to know where I’ve been. He’ll want to know who I’ve been with…”
“And he definitely knows you weren’t with Harry?”
“Definitely.”
“Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow morning we’ll get our thinking caps on, ok?”
I nodded. “Ok.”
“In the meantime, I’ve been waiting all week to see you. I missed you, Helen Palmer. A lot.”
I smiled. “The sentiment is entirely reciprocated, Mr Roberts.”
It made him smile, too.
My heart soared as the twinkle of Mark’s house lights came into view. I took a long breath, and the peace engulfed me, as though I was home, slipping into comfortable slippers. He was waiting for me as I got out of the car, waiting to hold me tight, and I held him, breathed him, savoured the press of his body against mine as I sank into the moment.
Thank God for this, thank God.
The fire had warmed the house, in that blissful way that a real fire does. He lit candles in the dining room while I kicked my shoes off, then grabbed me a glass and poured me a healthy measure of red wine.