Little White Lies (13 page)

But to my surprise, both Vix and Christian take a drink too.

“Never have I ever dyed my hair,” Kenny continues.

Christian cheers and drinks again.

“Lou?” Kenny’s eyes sparkle at me. “Drink up.”

“No way!” Christian cries. “You’re not a natural blonde?”

“You got me.” I smile tightly.

He laughs loudly and I look at him in surprise. It’s not that funny.

“How did you know?” Vix asks Kenny, who shrugs. “What color is it really?”

“Uh-uh, that’s not how the game works,” I say, glancing at Christian.

“She’s right,” Kenny says. “You have to start ‘Never Have I Ever
,
’ remember?” I flash him a smile.

“Like, never have I ever... lied to the police,” Kenny says.

My smile evaporates as he winks at me, and my blood runs cold. Is he planning to expose me in front of everyone?

My pulse races as I hesitate. If they see me drink, it’ll give me away. But if I don’t, Kenny could call me on it like the hair dye, making it worse. Maybe if I drink really quickly, they won’t see....

“I
knew
it!” Vix squeals delightedly. I turn, startled, to see Christian draining his drink.

“Got me again!” he laughs, slamming his empty glass back down on the table. “I need a refill.”

I stare at him. Why would he admit it?

“So?” Vix prompts, her eyes gleaming. “Where
did
you tell the police you were during the break-in last Saturday night?”

“What?” Christian frowns, reaching for the now almost-empty jug. “Here.”

“But you weren’t really?”

“What?” Christian looks really confused now.

“You weren’t really here that night?”

“No, I was,” he says.

Vix frowns. “So you didn’t lie to them?”

“Nope.”

She blinks. “I don’t understand... if you didn’t lie to them about that, what
have
you lied to the police about?”

“About taking th’bag,” Christian says, picking up the jug to pour himself more juice.

“What bag?” I frown.

“Th’bag in th’house!”

“What?” He’s not making any sense....

Suddenly he tips the jug, completely misses his glass, and juice sloshes all over the coffee table. We all spring to our feet out of the way. Except Christian.

“Oh shit.” He stares at the mess, then bursts out laughing.

I stare at him. “Are you
okay
?”

“Um, no.” His face turns pale. “Actually, I feel really... Excuse me....” Christian lurches out through the door.

“Never have I ever spiked a drink!” Vix says, sniggering as Kenny downs another shot.

I round on him. “You spiked Christian’s drink?”

“Moi?”
he says innocently. Vix snorts with laughter.

“It’s not funny.” I glare at her. “Christian’s teetotal. Did Kenny spike the juice?”

“No comment, Officer.”

“Vix!”

“Come on, you can’t play Never Have I Ever sober!” she argues. “It’s not fair!”

“In vino veritas!”
Kenny adds.

“Or vodka, in this case!” Vix giggles.

“So Christian’s been gulping down shots while we’re sipping wine?” I glare at Kenny. “You’re an idiot.”

“Lighten up, Lou!” Vix cries. “It’s a party!”

“No, it’s a farce,” I snap. “I’m going home.”

“No!” Vix protests as I stand up. “Lou, don’t go! It’s your birthday!”

“Good night!” I storm out of the room.

“No, Lou, wait!” Vix calls after me.

“I’ll go,” I hear Kenny tell her as I open the front door. “It’s my fault.”

Damn right.
I move faster as I hear him follow me down the dark street.

“Lou, wait—” He catches up with me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Like hell,”
I hiss, not slowing down. “What were you
thinking,
telling everyone my secrets!”

“Come on, Lou,
what
secrets?” he protests. “That you’ve dyed your hair and used a fake ID—so have most teenage girls!”

“And lying to the police?” I say. “Have most teenage girls done that too?”

“That was aimed at Christian, not you,” Kenny says. “Besides, you didn’t lie to them—you just broke into their offices.”

I bite my lip, remembering what Christian said:
Is not telling the truth the same as lying?

“Don’t you want to know what he told them?” Kenny asks, “What his alibi was?”

I hesitate. “Yes.”

“Well,
that’s
why I spiked his drink, and
that’s
why I asked the question,” he says. “I wanted to make sure you really know what you’re getting into. And surely you have some burning questions of your own for Mr. Mysterious, now he’s feeling more... chatty?”

“Of course I do,” I admit. “But not in front of
Vix
! The last thing I need is for Miss Investigative Reporter to uncover any secrets—about any of us. You saw how desperate she is for a story. She could ruin everything.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t think it through. I was just trying to help.”

“Well, don’t!” I retort.

“Well, you obviously need it!” he counters. “
And
I’ve given it. I covered for you when you dropped your uncle’s letter, and when your birthday card arrived,
and
I got you the job at the bar—”

“You
what
?” I stare at him.

“Titch,” he sighs. “You think Heidi just
happened
to get ill when the bar was super-busy?”

My jaw drops. “What did you do?”

He shrugs. “Nothing much.”

“Kenny, what did you
do
?”

“Nothing! I just bought her a drink, that’s all.”

I stare at him incredulously. “You mean you
poisoned
Heidi’s drink?”

“She’s
fine,
” Kenny argues. “She just had a dodgy stomach for a day.”

“Oh my God, what were you
thinking
?”

“I was thinking that you needed that job as part of your cover, and that I could help—I didn’t think you’d start
dating
Christian!”

I stiffen. “I told you, it wasn’t a date.”

“You looked pretty cozy together.”

“Whatever.”

“But it wasn’t a date?”

“Jeez, Kenny, what if it was? You’re not my boyfriend. It has nothing to do with you!”

“It has
everything
to do with me!” he argues. “Even if you don’t want to admit it, we’re in this together, Lou—I can’t just stand by and watch you throw it all away! Not after everything we’ve been through. There’s too much at stake!”

Far too much.

“So don’t shut me out, don’t tell me I don’t matter, that I’m not involved. I mattered that night in the office, didn’t I?”

I sigh.

“
Didn’t
I?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“Oh my
God
!”

We both swivel to see Vix standing behind us on the pavement, her eyes wide.

Shit. How long has she been there?

She stares at me. “You and
Kenny
?”

I stare back at her, trying to figure out what she heard.
Me and Kenny... what?

“
Now
I know why you tried to warn me off him,” she says bitterly. “So you could have him all to yourself!”

“No!” I cry, relieved that she’s misunderstood the situation. “No, Vix, it’s not what you—”

“No?” she says. “Just what exactly happened
that night in the office
then?”

I look at Kenny anxiously.

“And when exactly
was
that night?” she demands. “How long has this been going on?”

“I...” I falter.

“Oh my
God
.” Vix steps backwards suddenly.
“Boarding school...”

“What?” I blink.

“You both went to boarding school—did you go to
the same one
?”

“No!” I cry, panicking.

“It’ll be easy enough to check.” Vix’s eyes darken. “You can find anything online these days, can’t you, Kenny? Like, say, yearbook photos.”

Shit. There weren’t exactly many girls in our year at school, so if Vix looks up our yearbook, she’ll spot my photo and find my real name, my true identity.

“
That’s
how you knew Lou dyes her hair!” Vix turns to Kenny. “You knew each other before you even got here—you’ve been lying to me this whole time—
both
of you!”

“Vix—”

“And not just to me. I bet Christian doesn’t know either, does he?” she says. “Not yet, anyway.” She turns on her heel.

“No—Vix—you can’t tell him!” I grab her arm desperately.

“Why not?” She shakes me off. “He deserves to know what’s going on!”

“
Nothing’s
going on!” I protest.

“Seriously?”
She glares at me. “Do you think I’m
stupid,
Lou?”

“No!”

“Then by all means, explain!” she cries. “If I’ve got it all so wrong, tell me what Kenny meant—what happened
that night
?”

“I...” I falter, my mind spinning painfully. I can’t tell her the truth, but I can’t let her look me up either.

“Just as I thought.”

I watch helplessly as Vix marches back to Christian’s house.

“Wait, Vix—you’re right,” Kenny says quickly.

She turns.

“Lou and I...” He glances at me. “We did know each other at boarding school.”

“I knew it!” She shoots me a dirty look.

“And one night... something happened. We broke into an office.”

“Kenny, don’t—please,” I beg.

“I’m sorry, Lou,” he says, not looking at me. “But Vix deserves the truth.”

I close my eyes.
Shit.

“And the truth is... we broke into this office because it was the only place in the school we could be alone, unsupervised.”

My eyes fly open to find Vix glaring at me.

“You slept together?” she asks tightly. I glance at Kenny nervously, wondering where he’s going with this lie.

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, we just kissed. We were both drunk—it was the end-of-year dance and I’d smuggled in a hip flask of vodka. But as soon as we started kissing, Lou seemed to sober up and change her mind, and she left. But the damage was done.” He shrugs. “I’d liked her for ages. More than liked her, actually. And that kiss... it sparked something inside me, a ray of hope that won’t go out. That’s why I followed her here. Because... because I’m still in love with her.”

I stare at him. Where does he come up with this stuff? He’s so convincing!

“I thought we had a future, I thought if I followed her here, I could rekindle that spark... that I could persuade her to give us a chance.” His eyes meet mine and a tingle runs down my spine. If I didn’t know he was lying...

“But it’s useless,” he sighs. “She’s not interested. I’m not even on her radar.”

“But... why did you pretend not to know each other?” Vix asks.

I look at Kenny, praying he’s thought this through.

“I thought it would help us start again,” Kenny says. “That we could have a fresh start if we acted like we were meeting each other for the first time. But it didn’t work.”

“But why did
you
go along with it, Lou?” Vix asks. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”

I shrug. “I... I didn’t want to prejudice you against Kenny,” I lie. “You liked him, and he’s a nice guy. Just because I don’t want to go out with him doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be with someone else, someone great like you. He deserved a fresh start too.”

Vix frowns. “Then why did you try to put me off him?”

I hesitate, glance at Kenny. “I... didn’t realize how hard it would be, being around him so much, and having to lie all the time,” I say. “But once you tell one lie it just snowballs. And then it was too late to tell you the truth—”

“It’s never too late,” Vix interrupts, looking me straight in the eye. “Not for the truth.”

My cheeks burn. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Vix.”

She looks away.

“You won’t tell Christian?” I beg.

“I can’t, anyway.” She sighs. “He was asleep when I left, snoring on the bathroom floor.”

Thank goodness.

“I’m going home,” Vix sighs, turning away.

“I’ll come with you,” I offer.

“Don’t,” she snaps, her eyes cold. “I just... I need to be on my own for a bit.”

I swallow, then nod, feeling unbearably sad as I watch her walk away.

“Sorry,” Kenny whispers beside me.

But I’ve only got myself to blame, really. I caused this mess. I’ve known Vix for such a short time, but I feel terrible deceiving her, letting her down. But even as guilt weighs heavily on my shoulders, I know I’ll still keep lying to her.

After all, I have no choice.

The next morning, Vix doesn’t answer her phone or her dorm room door. I don’t blame her. But when I get to the pub for my Saturday shift to find Christian’s not there either, I start to worry.

Did Vix tell him about Kenny? Did she ruin my chances just as I’m starting to get close to him...?

Anxiety niggles in my gut as Mike glares at the clock for the umpteenth time.

Did we do the right thing, lying to Vix again? Maybe we should have told her the truth—or at least part of it—that Uncle Jim’s in prison, and I’ve changed my name to avoid notoriety. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel so betrayed, so humiliated, if she knew that there really is nothing between me and Kenny, that he’s just here to support me—as a friend. Part of me thinks she’d keep my secret, that she’d understand. But I can’t take that chance. She is an aspiring journalist, after all. So the price of keeping my secret is to lose my only new friend here.

I glance at the clock. Eleven-thirty.

And now it seems I’ve lost Christian too.

Suddenly the pub door bursts open.

“Sorry, sorry! My alarm didn’t go off, I just woke up.” Christian staggers into the pub in his motorbike gear.

“You’re an
hour and a half
late!” Mike yells. “Take that helmet off!”

“Sorry!” Christian removes it to reveal puffy, bloodshot eyes and cheeks that are still creased from his pillow.

“You look like shit,” Mike tells him. “Go home.”

“Okay.” Christian turns. “I don’t feel great, actually.”

“And don’t bother coming back,” Mike adds. “You’re fired.”

“What?” Christian spins round. “You can’t fire me for being ill!”

“You’re not ill!” Mike argues. “You think I can’t spot a hangover a mile off? I run a pub!”

“I’m not hungover!” Christian protests. “I don’t even drink!”

Oh shit.

“Liar!” Mike scowls. “
And
you’re late. Again. I’ve been waiting for a reason to get rid of you ever since the break-in, and now you’ve given me two.”

Christian stares at him. “What?”

“Don’t give me that butter-wouldn’t-melt act. I know you were behind it,” Mike spits. “And after I gave you a chance too. Gave you a job—a bloody
promotion
! And that’s how you repay me?”

I glance at Christian, not daring to breathe.

He looks gobsmacked. “What? Mike, no, I—”

“Oh, I know
you
didn’t break in—you’re far too smart for that—you had your mysterious
alibi,
” Mike sneers. “But that wouldn’t have stopped you giving the keys to one of your dodgy mates, would it, eh? Well, I’m not as dumb as I look, so get out.”

“But, Mike, I—”

“I said
get out
!” Mike yells.

Christian glares at him, his eyes blazing, then pulls on his helmet and storms out of the pub.

“Christian, wait!” I hurry after him.
He can’t drive—after all that vodka, he’ll be over the limit!

“Where d’you think you’re going, young lady?” Mike growls. “You walk out of this pub, you’re out of a job too!”

“Fine!” I rush out of the pub to find Christian already revving his motorbike.

“No!” I yell as he roars out of the car park. “Christian!
Stop!
”

Shit!

I hurry to my car, hoping I can catch him before it’s too late. As soon as I leave the car park, I spot him at the bottom of the hill and I hit the accelerator, not caring if he sees me following this time.

Keeping up with him is another matter. He streaks wildly along the busy road, wobbling as he weaves in and out of the traffic like a maniac, leaving a trail of blaring horns.

Oh my God
. Panic rises inside me.
He’s going to crash
,
he’s going to die.

Images of my parents’ crash flash into my mind—the car reduced to twisted hunks of chewed-up metal that crushed them in its jagged jaws.

I blink the picture away, forcing myself to focus on the speeding motorbike, determined not to lose sight of him.

Finally—thank God!—we’re out of the city streets and Christian turns off the main road onto a country lane, heading up into the Peak District. Sheep scatter like snooker balls as he roars past the stone-walled fields, the gray-green hills rolling away around us.

I glance at my speedometer.

Thirty miles an hour.

Forty.

Fifty.

I have to do something.

I punch my horn and he twists round.

“Stop!” I wave out of my window. “Christian, it’s me! Slow down!”

Gradually his speed drops.

Thirty.

Twenty.

“Pull over!” I yell.

He twists again, then wobbles wildly. Suddenly he’s veering all over the road as the bike skids out of control.

“Christian!”
I scream as he crashes onto the grassy verge. He tumbles into a bush as the bike slides out from underneath him and smashes into a nearby hedge.

I swerve to the side of the road, jump out of the car, and rush to his side.

“Christian? Oh my God! Are you okay?”

He groans.

Carefully, I slide up the visor of his helmet. “Are you hurt?” I ask anxiously. “What do I do? I don’t know any first aid.”

“Mouth to mouth,” he moans. “It’s the only way.”

I laugh with relief. “You’re okay. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Just my pride,” he groans, sitting up and removing his helmet. “And my poor bike! Is it rideable?”

“I think it’s okay, but you probably shouldn’t ride it,” I tell him firmly. “Not at the moment.”

“Why not?” He frowns.

“Because...” I hesitate. How do I explain that he’s hungover without telling him his drink was spiked? “Because you’ve just had an accident,” I say, pulling out my mobile. “You’re in shock. I’ll get Kenny to pick it up—he’s got a motorbike license.”
And it’s his fault, after all.

I call Kenny and curtly explain what happened, then hang up. “He’s on his way.”

“You’re so clever.” Christian smiles. “And so pretty.”

I frown. “Did you hit your head?”

“What? Yeah, a bit. Why?”

“I think you might be a little concussed.”

“No, I’m
not
! You
are
beautiful!” he says so indignantly I smile. “And clever and kind and generous—”

“Well,
you’re
a bit delusional, mister, so I think I should take you to hospital, get you checked over properly,” I tell him. “Come on.”

“Wait—shou
ldn’t you be at work?” He frowns suddenly. “Mike’ll be really mad.”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I shrug. “I was worried about you.”

“Wow.” He stares at me, wide-eyed. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Guilt swims in my veins. “Plus I wanted to see the look on Mike’s face,” I add quickly. “You should’ve seen him—I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel or something!”

Christian laughs loudly, then sighs heavily. “Shit. I can’t believe he fired me. Why did he fire me?”

“You were late.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Twice,” I add.

“Shit, yeah.”

“And you lost the pub keys.”

He sighs.

“And whoever found them broke into the bar.”

“Oh crap, I’m having a really bad week!” He bursts into laughter.

I stare at him. “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know!” he chuckles. “I’m unemployed, I crashed my bike, and I’m sitting in a muddy puddle! What else could go wrong?”

As if in answer, a van suddenly roars round the corner and splashes straight through a large puddle, drenching us from head to toe. We stare at each other for a moment, then collapse in hysterics.

“You had to ask, didn’t you!” I laugh.

“Come on!” he yells at the sky. “Is that the best you can do?”

“No! Don’t tempt fate!” I cry. “We’ll get struck by lightning or something!”

“Bring it on!” he shouts. “Do your worst!”

“Don’t!”
I flick some mud at him and accidentally splatter his face. His eyes widen.

“I’m sorry!” I giggle. “I didn’t mean—” A lump of cold mud hits me square on the ear and I shriek. Suddenly it becomes all-out war, as we flick and splash mud at each other mercilessly, till finally I hold my hands up in surrender.

“Truce!” I squeal. “I give in!”

“You’re such a chicken.” Christian laughs, trying to wipe the mud from his face, but ending up smearing more on.

“Well, you look like a pig in muck!” I laugh.

“Why, thank you.” He grins. “Pigs are very intelligent creatures—and they say mud’s good for the skin.” He rubs it into his cheek like moisturizer. “Mud,” he says, pouting.
“Because I’m worth it.”

I double over in stitches, laughing till I can’t breathe.

“Wait, wait—you missed a spot!” I lean forward and smear mud over his forehead. “There. Perfect. You’d be right at home at The Flying Pig now, huh?” I giggle.

“Typical!” Christian cries. “I’m
always
in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

I smile as he brushes a piece of mud from my cheek.

“Well,” he concedes, his voice softer as he gently cups my face. “Maybe not always.”

My heart beats madly as he leans forward, his clear blue eyes deep in mine as his lips finally meet my own, smooth and warm and soft.

Suddenly I jerk away from him like I’ve been shot, stumbling over backwards into the mud.

“Louise?”

What am I
thinking
? I screw my eyes shut. What the hell am I doing? Shit! Shit!
Shit!

“Lou, are you okay? Lou?”

I open my eyes. “I’ve got to go.”

“Lou, wait—” He catches my arm as I scramble to my feet.

“Let go!” I say, my pulse racing.

“Please, don’t leave,” he begs. “I’m sorry.”

“Let me go!” I scream, and instantly he releases me, his face stricken.

“I’m so sorry.” His eyes fill with regret. “Please. I didn’t mean—”

“Kenny’s here,” I interrupt, spotting the approaching taxi as I hurry to my car. “Take the cab back. Go to the hospital. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait—Lou!”

I get in my car and slam the door shut behind me, my heart beating wildly as I quickly drive away.

Nothing happened,
I tell myself over and over as I watch Christian shrink in the rearview mirror. Nothing happened.
But it nearly did.

I punch the steering wheel. What was I
thinking
?

Kenny was right. This was a mistake. An epic mistake. I can’t
date
Christian. It’s too close, too risky, too...
wrong.

Bile rises in my throat and I swerve onto the grass verge just in time to puke my guts out over a stone wall.

I screw my eyes shut, flooded with tears as Poppy’s face fills my mind, her comatose cheeks so pale against her hospital pillow—while I’m out laughing, joking and
dating
Christian
?

I spit out the vomit, the bile, the taste of Christian’s lips, but the bitter guilt remains, sour and familiar.

How could I forget?
Even for a minute? How
could
I? I’ve let everyone down. Uncle Jim, Vix, Poppy, and now Christian will think I’m a complete nutcase too.

My mobile buzzes angrily in my pocket, and I pull it out.

Gran.

I ring off. I can’t face talking to her, not right now. Besides, she’ll think I’m at work.

It rings again.

Vix.

My heart leaps as I answer quickly. “Hi! I’m so glad you rang, I’m so sorry—”

“Where are you?” Vix says tightly. “You’re not at the pub?”

“No,” I sigh. “It’s a long story. I’m in the middle of nowhere right now.”

“Well, come back.”

“I’m on my way,” I tell her, hurrying back to the car. “Do you want to go for a coffee, or—”

“You’ve got a visitor, Shepherd,” Vix says curtly. “Or should I say
Willoughby-White
?”

I freeze.
“What?”

“Hello, sweetheart!” a familiar voice sings down the phone.

Shit.

Gran.