Page 66 of The Trouble With Love
‘No reason you would.’ I looked at his empty cup. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes. No.’ He held his hand up. ‘Look, I’m shaking. What kind of a way is this to behave?’
‘A natural one.’ I gathered up my bag and kicked my high heels back on. All right, I admit it, I’d dressed up to meet Kai’s mother. Not that she’d be looking at me, of course, she’d be struck blind by the glamour of her son, who was working the battered leather jacket, long hair, silver jewellery thing to death. But I wanted her to . . . what? Think me suitable? Not assume that I was his minder? To those ends I’d worn a black jacket and skirt, with heels and matching bag and I’d put my hair up. I looked like I was off to a high-class funeral.
He watched me without moving. ‘I’m going to introduce you as my girlfriend,’ he said. ‘It won’t freak you out too much, will it?’
‘I think I can cope.’ I shoved a fiver under a saucer. ‘You look like an entrant in Britain’s Next Top Model.’ He still wasn’t standing up. ‘Kai, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.’
‘No, I do.’ Now he stood up and blocked out what little light was coming in to the tea shop. ‘I really do. And I have to do it in the next ten minutes, because I think that’s as long as my breakfast is going to stay down.’
‘Hey.’ I grabbed his hand. ‘Come on. You never have to see her again, if you don’t want to.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ A weak smile brought a little colour to his face and a shine to his eyes. ‘I’ve faced the Mujahideen and been less scared.’
We walked along the street up the hill towards the twelfth century castle ruins that lay picturesquely overlooking the town. ‘This is it,’ Kai stopped outside a white-painted little house which fronted straight onto the road. ‘Seventeen. God, Holly.’
‘She might not even be in.’ I stared at the innocent window, framed by cream curtains. ‘There’s no lights on.’
‘Well, she’d better be, because I’m not coming back.’ He braced his hands on his knees, leaned down and took two deep breaths. ‘Okay. C’mon Rhys, you can do this.’ Then he knocked, knuckles sounding hollow against the door.
I watched him slip from scared civilian into journalist mode. He set his face against disappointment and dismissal, narrowed his eyes, drew his mouth into a line. His back straightened and his shoulders squared. He gave me a tiny wink. And if I hadn’t known it was all an act of massive bravado, I would have been impressed. But I did, and I knew how fragile he was under it all.
There were footsteps. We could hear them through the door, shuffling towards us, the tapping sound of a stick against a wooden floor. Kai’s eyes widened, his head came up and I thought for a second he was going to run, but he stood his ground, although I could almost see his heart beating through his jacket. The door opened.
‘Bloody hell,’ I said, but I needn’t have spoken at all. They looked at each other.
‘David,’ said Eve, softly. ‘I would have known you anywhere. You look just like your father.’ Then she noticed me. ‘Holly?’
‘I repeat, bloody hell!’
There was a moment of three-way staring. ‘You know David?’
‘It’s Kai. Kai Rhys,’ Kai said sternly. ‘Holly is my . . . we’re together.’
Eve couldn’t take her eyes off him. ‘David,’ she kept saying. ‘You found me.’
‘Do you think we could come in?’ I asked eventually. ‘I’m afraid he might fall down if we stay out here.’
‘Oh! Oh yes, I’m so silly, come through. There’s so much . . . so much . . .’ Limping ahead, she led us through to a neat, cream and white living room. There was a fire blazing in the hearth and Cash in the Attic on mute in the corner. It was tidy and clean and, I noticed, there were no photographs of family anywhere. ‘Oh. I can hardly believe it. David . . .’
‘Kai.’
‘I’m sorry. Of course, Kai. And the accent.’
‘I was born in Wales. Oh, you know that.’ He sat down and clamped his hands between his knees, and only I knew it was to stop them shaking. ‘You were there. Briefly.’
And then he started to cry and she started to cry and it was only by excusing myself to go and make some tea in the midget kitchen which adjoined, that I managed to prevent myself from bursting into tears as well.
Eve’s kitchen was as neat as her living room, and her tea canister contained tea, unlike mine, which held matches. There was a small packet of fancy biscuits in the cupboard, but since the cupboard contained little else, and the fridge was down to half a pint of milk and three eggs, I left them there. On one of the shelves was a brown medicine pill bottle and I read the label while the kettle boiled. Made three cups of tea and carried them through to find Kai sitting on the floor, knees under his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs, like he’d tied himself into a parcel. No one was speaking, the only sound was the crack and spit of the fire and the deep tick of an old clock on the mantelpiece.
I handed Eve a cup and listened to it rattle as she took it. ‘You must have so much to talk about,’ I said into the uncomfortable silence.
‘I don’t know where to start.’ She looked at me helplessly. ‘There’s too much to say.’
‘Well, let me give you a starting point.’ Kai wouldn’t look up. ‘How about, who the fuck am I? Who was my father, what happened there?’ His eyes met mine for a second and I was taken aback by the desperation I saw there. ‘What happened,’ he repeated, his body starting to shake inside the leather jacket. He pushed a fisted hand into his mouth and I heard his teeth connect with the silver rings as he tried to stop himself crying by biting down.
‘I grew up . . . My parents . . .’ Eve’s words faltered as her throat juddered. ‘Well, no, that’s unfair on Mum, it was Dad, really. Mainly. He was a bit . . . narrow minded, I suppose. Strict. I was his little girl, his princess.’ She blinked hard as though her eyes couldn’t believe this man twisted around himself on her living room floor. ‘Didn’t want me to have boyfriends or wear make-up, or go out with friends, you know . . . protective. That was all.’
