Kept (24 page)

‘So.’

‘So,’ I echo. It’s awkward and something definitely doesn’t
feel right.

‘I’m sorry,’ he finally rushes out. ‘I should have
explained. At the house, I mean.’

‘Right.’ How do I get out of this? Get him to leave, make
him realise it was pointless him coming here.

More silence.

‘Lara’s nice,’ I offer charitably. This is excruciating,
worse than when Ob finally landed himself a date last week and I met them in
the pub. She was the most boring girl in the world whose sole interest was
collecting duck ornaments. I never thought anything could top
that
evening.

‘Yes,’ is his reply.
Thanks,
Noah
.

‘What’s Zac like?’ I try.

‘Lovely.’

‘But no children for the two of you?’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘Ah yes.’ I nod. ‘Yes.’

‘How’s your ex?’ I shoot him a look at that. He has no right
to mention Piers, no right whatsoever. ‘You said,’ he continues, ‘back on that
night that you’d just finished with someone?’

‘Piers,’ I supply. I feel traitorous merely saying his name
out loud to Noah – an intense twist of pain tightens my chest as a wave of
guilt floods me thinking about that night with Noah.

‘What’s he like then?’

‘Nice.’ I desperately want to get off the subject of Piers
before I throw up.

‘Nice,’ he repeats. ‘Like Lara?’

‘Yes, nice like Lara,’ I confirm, even though Piers is more
than just
nice
. Piers is
amazing
. The
best
.

‘Lovely,’ he responds.

At this, I snap from my anger at remembering Piers. ‘Oh for
God’s sake, Noah. This is dreadful.’

He softly laughs. ‘I agree, it’s hard.’

What’s hard? Whatever he wanted to talk to me about, can he
not spit it out, then I can tell him I want nothing to do with him and he can
leave me to get on with my life.

‘Just tell me,’ I say, refraining from rolling my eyes. His
eyes show fear. How odd.

‘I love you,’ he says carefully. ‘But I’m afraid.’

‘Of what?’ I ask, wishing the ground would swallow me up. He
doesn’t love me, he loves himself. And really, even if the love thing was true,
what is he afraid of?
Love
? How
absurd.

‘Of you,’ he replies.

I cannot tell you how frustrating this is. ‘I think I should
go,’ I say, standing up, but he yanks me back down to the ground quite
painfully. ‘Noah,’ I try to say calmly. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Quit playing games,’ he spits at me.

‘Games? I’m not playing a game, never have done. You were
always the one with your little games, Noah.’ I’m livid. I can tell I’m going
to start shaking and then burst into tears if I don’t say this to him soon.
‘What happened? Is that why you left me like you did because I was a game to
you? You know, you promised I wasn’t a toy, said Peter was mad for picking that
girl over me at the party, but do you know what Noah Penrose? You’re worse than
Peter was.’

‘Bloody Peter,’ he mutters.

‘Sorry?’

‘It was Peter, Arielle. I left you because of Peter.’

‘What’s your brother got to do with this?’ I ask rolling my
eyes, pushing away my immediate thought that Noah left me for his younger
brother. What sort of society do we live in when a thought like that springs to
my mind first… and it seems acceptable. OK, maybe I get why both Dad and Ob’s
first assumption was that I’d been turning tricks for Piers.

‘Who do you think found us that morning on the boat?’

‘Wait a minute. You’re telling me Peter was there that
morning?’

I’ve been that engrossed in this conversation that I fail to
realise we have company until I see the look on Noah’s face. He looks
murderous.

‘Hello Arielle,’ Peter simpers, ignoring Noah. ‘I see you’ve
been learning a few things about my bullying big brother.’

Noah springs to his feet, he looks ready to fight.

‘You threatened Noah?’ I ask. ‘That’s why he dumped me?’
Peter doesn’t say anything. ‘All this time I have hated Noah when I should have
hated you,’ I whisper.
 

He shakes his head. ‘I worshipped you, Arielle. I would
never have hurt you. The only reason I got with Stacey at that party was
because he threatened me, said I had to leave you alone and get with someone
else so you’d definitely get that I wasn’t interested in you.’

‘Shut it Peter,’ Noah roars at him.

‘Or what? What are you going to do?’ Peter laughs. ‘I’m not
your little brother anymore, your threats won’t work. Arielle deserves to know
the truth.’

I stand up at this. I’m dangerously sat in the middle of
those two and I can tell this is going to get nasty. Noah looks like a mad man.
I feel repulsed and scared. I only came here to tell him it was over, that our
evening in Wandsworth was a mistake. I didn’t want to get caught up in Noah and
Peter’s stupid fight.

 
‘All he ever did was
use you, Arielle. You were some stupid bet. I’m sorry,’ he says softly, looking
at me. ‘But I swear I’m not lying to you. I came here to warn you that he’s
trying to use you again, that he’s seeing other women, even now, and this is
just some ego trip getting you to want him again.’

I can’t even respond to that, even if I want to, because
Noah hurls himself at Peter and narrowly misses me. The next thing, a brawl is
happening on the Penroses’ back lawn. As far as I’m concerned, they can kill
each other, but I do believe what Peter has just told me is true. This has
finally proved what I should have known all along, that I’m better off without
Noah Penrose in my life.

Of course it’s not as simple as clicking my heels together
three times and wishing myself back in time, to when Piers and I were still
together, back to when I could have fixed things, or even further back to the
Penroses’ anniversary party when I could have got the keys from my parents and
just gone home. Nothing would have happened with Noah. Maybe I would have
pursued my fashion dream earlier, and who knows what my life would have been
like today.

Instead, I have a battered and bruised Peter Penrose sat in
my parents’ kitchen, fresh from A&E. Noah, I learn, is in hospital with a
broken nose and splintered knuckles even though Mr and Mrs Penrose managed to
separate their sons quite quickly. It’s lucky Mr Penrose Senior is still in
excellent shape and heard my screams. I didn’t even realise I had screamed.

Still, I don’t need Peter here to tell me what happened at
A&E since Mum bumped into the parental Penroses earlier this morning and
extracted the grizzly details from them. Well, not
all
the details thankfully. They don’t know I’m, sort of, the
reason for their fight. I’m not sure I even care about what else Peter would
have told me about Noah if Noah hadn’t charged at Peter. Piers is who I belong
with.

‘How are you?’ he asks.

‘You really shouldn’t be wearing blue,’ I say. I don’t want
to discuss how I am.

He looks bemused. I hope he doesn’t think I’m flirting with
him but, the colour of it aside, it is a really nice man cardi he’s wearing.
‘Why’s that then?’

‘Have you seen your face? Actually, don’t answer that. I
want to pretend yesterday never happened and I don’t want to be rude but I
really have to go and get ready for work.’

 
OK, I’m not working
today but I do need to talk to Felicity because I have decided to do it. I’m
handing in my notice, I’m going to make things happen today. I also need to
take Ob his red velvet cake which is currently cooking in the oven.
 

 
‘Arielle... Look, I’m
sorry. I should have tried harder, told you sooner what he was like, told you
when we were teenagers. I realise I’m several years too late and that you
needed to know the truth long before yesterday, but you would never let me talk
to you.’

‘Don’t worry about it, but I really do have to go and get
ready for work.’ I stand up. I don’t need to hear this; my past can stay there.
I have a future to build in London, premises to find and hopefully a
relationship with Piers.
 

 
‘Your mum said you
were home all day?’ Bloody mother. She’ll be hoping I can get more gossip from
Peter, not realising I already know this sorry tale.

‘I’m handing my notice in, going back to London.’

‘London? Not to Noah, I hope?’

‘Definitely not to Noah.’ I manage a faint smile.
 

‘Good, because my brother is a shit. You deserve better.’

‘I have better,’ I say with a wry smile. ‘I just hope it
isn’t too late...’

‘London, dear?’

‘London,’ I confirm to Felicity.

‘Tell me more.’

‘Well you said yourself that the consultation thing is
waning, soon you’ll be back to how Flick’s previously was.’

‘Our gravy boat is hitting dry land,’ she replies. ‘Go on.’

‘The trouble is you don’t have the right sort of market
here.’

‘But you are saying
we
will have in London?’

‘We?’ I question. ‘And what?’

I’m trying to quit by using our drying-up clientele as my
excuse. What does London have to do with Felicity? I
knew
this wouldn’t go well, despite me wearing my lucky Herv
é
L
é
ger shirt – the
one I was wearing when Felicity and I first met.
 

‘Well yes, dear. I’m not losing you that easily. In fact, I
think it’s about time we made our partnership official.’

‘Partnership?’

No, no, no. I’m trying to leave here. Why is Felicity
tempting me to stay? Felicity is no spring chicken. I assumed she’d be happy to
let the shop go out in style on its high so she can enjoy her retirement.
Doesn’t she get it that our time is over? That nothing lasts forever.

‘Yes dear, we talked about this.’

‘Felicity, I’m clueless,’ I say exasperated.

‘I definitely told you this,’ she firmly said. ‘You thought
it was a brilliant idea!’

‘I thought
what’s
a brilliant idea?’

‘For us to close here and move to London, of course. I’m
going to be more of a silent partner, remember? You know how the Big Smoke
aggravates me nowadays but you’ll have my investment to help you set up once
you’ve found your location. Oh,’ she adds, ‘I know I said I’m happy to put in
most of the money but I do expect you to invest twenty-five per cent so I know
you’re serious about our venture.’

She makes it sound like we’re going halves on a piece of
chocolate cake at the bakery rather than a business investment. An investment
proposal I would certainly have remembered!

‘Felicity,
WHAT?
’

‘You thought it was a brilliant idea,’ she repeats, but she
sounds uncertain. ‘Did we not have this conversation?’ She sounds worried,
rightly.

‘No.’
 

My mind is racing full of possibilities. My very own place
in London! This is brilliant and a sign that everything is going to be OK.

‘Oh dear.’ She looks really worried now, which causes me to
panic as I realise the rather more serious repercussions of her forgetfulness.
‘Do you know, I think I need to see a doctor, Arielle dear. This is the third
time this has happened this week.’

I study her closely. She looks a little dazed, but she still
looks rather resplendent in another of her classic Chanel two-pieces, pearls
and all. ‘Maybe you should take a holiday, Felicity?’ I say kindly. I love
Felicity. I would be devastated if anything happened to her.

‘Yes, perhaps I should.’ She sounds downcast, but she soon
perks up. ‘Then when I get back, you can fill me in on our lovely locations!’

‘You really want to go into business with me?’

‘Of course, dear. I knew the moment I saw you that we are
meant for great things. I’m never wrong about these things, you know!’

Felicity really is my fairy godmother, despite her dizzy
ways. I’m realising more and more how grateful I am she saw something in me
that is still not obvious to me.

As she jabbers on about her vision for the future, it hits
me: we’re taking Arielle’s to London. It’s everything I ever wanted but never
dreamed I would get. Everything is slotting into place. We’re moving Arielle’s
to London, Ob has forgiven me. All that needs sorting now is me and Piers...

‘Pony!’

‘Hello,’ I mutter as Piers opens the door. I know we spoke
on the phone for hours before I got on the train, that we’re going to give us
another go – he thinks I’m staying here for a few nights while I have some
interviews for my course. I wanted to tell him about Arielle’s in person – but
despite knowing this I still feel fraught. Nothing has gone this right in my
life for a very long time; I’m afraid that one wrong word said will bring
everything crashing down around me and I’ll be left with nothing again.

‘You are staying with me then?’ he asks, clocking my bag and
sweeping me into a hug that only intensifies my feelings from his warm,
familiar touch.

‘If that’s OK?’

‘You know this is your home, silly.’

‘Thanks,’ I mutter. I can’t quite meet his eyes. Please let
us be OK.

‘Well, come in,’ he says, grabbing my hand. I follow him in
and he leads me to
that
sofa, the
infamous sofa where so much has happened between the two of us, both good and
bad.

‘What do you have to tell me then?’ He’s grinning from ear
to ear.

I finally look up at him. God, he’s gorgeous. So lovely.
Noah is Quasimodo’s uglier brother with the personality of a serial killer in
comparison to Piers. Why did I ever make such a stupid judgement that night in
the West End? I smile shyly.

‘Have you
found your premises?’

‘Well I’ve not started to… what? How do you know about
that?’ How does he know about the London shop?

‘I have to admit to something naughty, and please don’t be
mad, but I needed a spy in the New Forest whilst we were apart. I needed to
know you were surviving given you’re useless on the phone!’

‘Who?’ I whisper, totally thrown by this admission. This is
not going to script.
 

‘Randolph.’

‘Who?’ I splutter. Who is
Randolph
, this mysterious spy? And what exactly has he told Piers?

‘Obélix.’

I laugh nervously. Oh yes,
Randolph
. Poor Obélix. He was named after Winston Churchill’s son;
his middle name is Winston. But, this is not the point, the point is I can’t
breathe. Did Obélix tell Piers about Noah visiting me? The last time I was in
this house was when he kicked me out after I slept with Noah – I hope Ob hasn’t
told him I’ve seen Noah since and not explained the context. This could ruin
everything.

‘Yes, well Randolph... Obélix filled me in.’

Where has the oxygen gone? ‘Told you what, and since when?’
I croak.

‘Since you left here. When I spoke to your mum those few
times, she passed on his number.’

‘On whose request?’ My heart is in my mouth, my brain feels
tight. I’m struggling to breathe.

‘His. He told your mum not to tell you.’

‘I’ll kill him,’ I mutter. ‘Interfering man.’ This explains
his championing of Piers.

‘He seems a decent bloke. I’m glad you’ve had him around
these past few months.’ He grabs my hand. ‘I must admit, I feel quite jealous
of you two.’

‘What did he tell you?’ I ask nervously.

‘Everything.’

‘
Everything
?’

‘I know you saw Noah again,’ he says, squeezing my hand.
‘But I know it was for closure, nothing more.’

‘Oh Piers,’ I groan. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t the one to tell
you. I’ve been an absolute idiot and you should never want to see me again with
how I’ve behaved. Please believe me that that night was the biggest mistake of
my life and I’ll never keep anything from you again.’

‘I love you Arielle, and I
trust
you. It’s all in the past. Now, tell me about this shop.’

I take a steadying breath and look up at him. Something
clicks. He said he loved me. He said he trusts me. We aren’t going to break up,
and we are going to be together again... Aren’t we?

‘You love me,’ I say slowly.

‘I do.’

‘You really love me?’

 
He grins
affectionately at me like I am a loon, which I suppose I am, but I’m his loon,
his
girlfriend
.

‘Do you want me to prove it to you?’ he asks.

I grin back at him. ‘I love you, too,’ I say, but when I
lean in for a kiss, he pulls back.

‘Ah, well...’ He looks nervous. ‘I didn’t want to... this
wasn’t supposed to happen here. Look, just wait one second. I think I should
say this now rather than later.’

He scurries from the sofa and not even the sight of his bum
in faded Diesel jeans can make me smile. I feel sick. I thought he just said
that he loved me, that he trusted me, that I’m his girlfriend. Those are not
the actions of a man who has just claimed all that. I knew this was all going
too
well. What does he have to say to
me? What has happened?

Piers returns a few minutes later, but he’s the one not
meeting my eyes now. Just what is going on? Here was I thinking that by some
major miracle we were back together but I was wrong. I want to cry.

Gently though, he takes my hand so I stand up. Leading me to
the centre of the room, we’re now stood under the crystal chandelier we bought
to mark our three year anniversary. This is all very odd.

‘Piers?’ He looks as ashen as I must do.

Something hits me as I look at him. His uncle died of cancer
and I know Piers has always been worried that he might develop it too. I’m
fearful Piers is going to tell me that he doesn’t have long left to live, that
there’s no hope for him.
 

A gurgle escapes his throat. He looks terrified, but then he
sinks to one knee and I gasp in realisation about what he’s about to do.

‘Arielle Demi Lockley,’ he says thickly. ‘I always had in
mind that I would do this on our next anniversary but then... then things
happened. I meant what I said that I love you and that I trust you. Everything
is in the past and I guess that includes my past plans. I wanted us to go
somewhere romantic, for there to be champagne, flowers and music, but as soon
as I saw you at the door tonight, I knew none of that mattered, that all that
matters is us, and I can’t let you escape again. So...’ He takes a steadying
breath; his hands are shaking. ‘What I’m trying to say without the usual Piers
and Arielle pomp is...’ I can’t help but grin at his choice of words, ‘will you
marry me?’

He pulls out the distinctive egg-blue Tiffany box from his
back pocket and pops the box open to reveal a platinum band with three
square-cut diamonds, two white diamonds flanking a slightly larger black
diamond in the centre. It doesn’t compare though to the sight of Piers kneeling
in front of me, more open and exposed than the contents of the box. This is him
laying his life, soul and heart out to me, and I’m stunned.

My heart feels like it’s going to explode; my brain is
buzzing from sensory overload at the sight of the unmistaken love on Piers’
face; the ring he is clasping is causing every nerve in my body to tingle like
they are all dancing a very happy dance. I feel alive, like all the previous
heartache and dilemma has led us to this moment and now nothing truly matters
except us. How could I have doubted him, doubted us? He’s right, the past will
stay in the past, and this is definitely better than any planned romantic
moment. This is perfect, the best proposal ever because it’s so
unexpected.
 

I gasp as he slides the ring on my finger, too keen to
realise I’ve not actually answered him but I don’t care. I’m home, here with my
soul mate, and everything is perfect. I feel dizzy with excitement and Piers
has the biggest grin on his face. The ring is a perfect fit.

‘Yes, Piers Bramley,’ I finally say, the look on my face
making the answer pretty obvious anyway. ‘I will marry you.’
 

We’re looking at each other with the same giddy expressions
on our faces, leaving us to do the only thing fitting in the circumstances. We
finally seal that we’re back together with a kiss.