The Lying Game (21 page)

‘Oh, give me that,’ she said crossly, taking the leaking bag from him and depositing it in the wheelie bin outside. She stomped back inside. ‘Anyone would think you actually
wanted
this whole thing to fall apart. Nell’s depending on us, remember. If we don’t look out for her, who do you think’s going to? Zoey?’

‘She’s done a pretty good job so far. Nell’s a great girl.’

‘Yes, she is. She’s quite amazing, given her upbringing. But consider what we could offer her, Oliver.’ She moved towards him, resting her palms against his chest as she looked
up at him. ‘She’s only fifteen. The next few years are
so
important. Just think what we could give her: the right internships, the right contacts, interviews at the best
universities . . . we could make all the difference to her future. Zoey’s done her best, I know that, but she can’t give Nell what we could. We can’t let her slip through our
fingers. We have to do whatever’s necessary to give Nell the best future she could have, just as we will for Florence.’

Unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head beneath his chin. Pleasantly startled by the sudden display of affection, she relaxed into his embrace. Despite their
rapprochement after he’d learned of her trip to London, things hadn’t really been right between them for a while. It wasn’t just sex, though, that had completely gone out of the
window recently – they’d made love only once since Zoey and Nell had left, and that had been perfunctory and unsatisfying, neither of them able to finish – even outside the
bedroom, he seemed different. He’d always been such a tactile man, squeezing her shoulder as she cooked, stroking her bottom as she carried a pile of ironing past him, holding her hand across
the table in restaurants as if they were a couple of teenagers on a first date. It wasn’t that he was being cold towards her now; he was still very attentive in many ways, asking her what she
wanted to watch on television, even running her bath for her. He was just . . .
different.

No, that wasn’t quite right, she realized suddenly. He was treating her as if
she
was different. He’d forgiven her for what she’d done, perhaps, but he hadn’t
forgotten it. She’d lied to him, and no matter how valid her reasons, she knew he would never quite trust her in the same way again.

But she hadn’t
wanted
to deceive him, couldn’t he see that? She’d never have done it if she hadn’t passionately believed she was right. He hadn’t wanted to
face up to the truth, and she didn’t blame him for that, but
someone
had had to. A wound like the one that had been inflicted on their family needed to be exposed to the open air if
it was to heal, not left to fester in the dark. Imagine how much worse it would’ve been for both Florence and Nell if they’d discovered the truth later and found out that their parents
had been deliberately hiding it from them?

In time, he’d see she’d had no other choice. He’d let his anger go. He had to.

‘Florence really likes Zoey,’ she said now, drawing back and scanning his face. ‘What’s she going to think if she’s suddenly dropped for no apparent
reason?’

He didn’t meet her eye. ‘I know. She’s already asked me several times why she hasn’t heard back from her.’

Harriet was surprised at the sudden pang that information caused her. ‘She’s been in touch with Zoey? She didn’t tell me.’

‘Are you surprised? Anyway, it’s nothing. She’s just sent a couple of emails.’

‘But Zoey hasn’t replied, has she? We’ve got to straighten things out, Oliver. If I’ve been too pushy, I’m sorry. I’ll back off. But
you
could still
talk to Zoey, couldn’t you?’

He hesitated. ‘I suppose. I could ask her if you could bring the kids over, anyway. I still think I should stay here, though, to look after the business this end.’

‘The business here is fine. And Florence needs you too. We have to go as
a family.
That’s the whole point.’

‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we? Zoey hasn’t even said yes to the idea yet.’

Harriet was confused. For the life of her she couldn’t see why he was so reluctant to get involved. He’d adored Nell, that had been obvious, and he’d also commented on how much
happier Florence seemed after spending time with Zoey. A month ago, he was all for the idea of a spending the summer in London. The boys would love it, the business there needed it, and Florence
would give her right arm to actually walk down Carnaby Street. She knew Nell wanted to see Oliver and the boys again, and she was dying to spoil the girl, take her to the Ritz and the National
Portrait Gallery and maybe even to Paris via Eurostar for a few days. Admittedly that would mean Oliver would have to hold the fort with Zoey while she was gone, but she could leave the boys with
her parents, and maybe Florence would like to come with her and Nell. It was about time the three of them spent some time together. Oliver and Zoey could find something to do together, she was
sure.

‘Please, Oliver,’ she said softly. ‘Won’t you please try, for me? Don’t I deserve that much, at least?’

For the longest time he said nothing, and she wondered what on earth was going on in his head.

‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘Yes, you deserve that much.’

‘So,’ Teri said, handing the joint back to Nell, ‘your mum finally came round?’

Nell rolled onto her back, tucked her arm behind her head and took a deep drag, exhaling smoke towards the bedroom ceiling.
‘Finally.
She’d better not change her mind again.
She’s doing my head in.’

‘What’s her problem? I thought she liked your American family?’

‘God knows.’ She giggled, already a little high. ‘Maybe she likes some of them a bit
too
much.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Just that she and Oliver were pretty friendly over there, you know?’ She passed Teri the joint. ‘I think something happened when we were staying in Maine. Up till then, Mum
never minded me going off with Harriet and leaving her with Oliver and Florence, but after that weekend away, she was, like, all hyper about being left alone with him. I just get a feeling
something happened there, that’s all.’

‘You’re kidding? Wouldn’t that be, like,
incest?’

‘No, you idiot. I’m the one who’s related to Oliver, not her.’ She took a final hit from the joint as Teri returned it, and then dropped the roach in the Coke can beside
the bed. ‘Mind you, it would still be pretty weird. My long-lost biological dad having an affair with my accidental foster mum. Totally Jeremy Kyle.’

‘D’you think they did it?’

‘Well, if they didn’t, they wanted to. I’m telling you, you could’ve cut the sexual tension with a knife on the drive home. I can’t believe Harriet didn’t
notice.
Some
thing went down.’

‘Or some
one
.’

She stroked Nell’s bare shoulder and Nell rolled onto her side towards her so that they were facing each other on the tiny single bed. They were naked from the waist up, their long hair
spilling loose over their breasts. Teri’s were bigger than hers – heavier, paler, their large pink aureole tipped with strawberry-coloured nipples. Nell liked feeling the weight of them
in her palm, seeing how those nipples swelled when she bent her mouth to them. Her own breasts were springier – high and firm, her nipples like tiny acorns. So much feeling concentrated in
such a small area, she thought hungrily as they grazed against Teri’s forearm. Electricity zinged across her body. Even her toes tingled.

Teri leaned closer, her breath warm against Nell’s cheek as she ran her hand gently along her collarbone, ski-jumping from her pert brown nipple and then skating back to her shoulder. Nell
squirmed with pleasure, twining her bare legs between Teri’s, their short skirts riding up around their hips. They hadn’t gone this far before – dared to be half-naked, risk being
caught. Teri’s parents were just downstairs, her sister right in the next room. Nell groaned as she felt a warm thrill shoot through her, its centre the molten dampness at the apex of her
thighs.

The two girls froze in alarm as they heard feet on the stairs. ‘You two all right in there?’

Teri sat up sharply, holding the pillow against her breasts. ‘We’re fine, Mum.’

‘I thought I heard someone shout?’

‘We’re just . . . rehearsing,’ Teri called through the bedroom door. ‘Shakespeare. Alas, poor Yorrick!’

Nell nudged her as Teri’s mother clumped back downstairs. ‘Well, I call that a rehearsal,’ Teri grinned, falling back on the bed. She reached out and lazily tweaked one of
Nell’s nipples, then dropped her hand lower, sliding between Nell’s unresisting thighs. ‘An
un
dress rehearsal, in fact.’

Her legs were still rubbery as she turned onto her street, every damp step a delicious reminder of the way she’d spent the afternoon. She could practically wring out her
knickers, it had been that amazing. She’d had no idea an orgasm could rip you apart, leave you shattered, and then pull you together in one glorious, incendiary wave again like that. Nothing
she’d ever managed alone had even come close.

She felt an erotic clench in her belly. She couldn’t wait to see Teri again. She felt dizzy just thinking about warm kisses and cool sheets and Teri, naked in bed . . .

Two shaven-headed men suddenly bundled out of Mum’s back door, shoving past her so rudely she was knocked into the dustbins.

‘Hey!’ she cried furiously.

‘Fuck off,’ one of them said carelessly without a backward glance.

She dusted herself down, hitching her bag back onto her shoulder and glaring at their retreating backs. They looked like a couple of bouncers from central casting, with their cheap black suits
and thick necks.
Morons.

‘Mum?’ she called anxiously, slamming the back door behind her and double-locking it, just in case the jerks came back. ‘Mum, is everything OK? Who were those men who just
left?’

She found her mother in the kitchen, crumpled over a heap of paperwork on the table, sobbing, and cried out in alarm. ‘Mum! What’s going on? Did they hurt you?’

Her mother shook her head, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Nell hunted fruitlessly for a box of tissues, gave up, and ripped off a piece of kitchen
towel. ‘Come on. Tell me what happened.’

‘Debt collectors,’ Mum whispered.

‘Debt collectors? You mean, like
bailiffs?’

Mum nodded.

‘What’re they doing here? Do we owe them money?’

‘We owe
everyone
money,’ Mum wailed, the tears starting to flow again. ‘Oh Nell, I’m so sorry. I thought if I could just keep the shop going a bit longer, it
would pick up again soon, and I could pay everyone back. I didn’t realize how bad things had got. And now . . . and now . . .’

Nell pulled the untidy pile of paperwork towards her, ignoring coffee rings and tearstains as she tried to make sense of it. ‘You haven’t put these through the books –
I’d have seen them. How much do we owe?’

‘I’ve paid off most of the credit cards – we don’t use them much. They weren’t too bad. But we’re six months behind on the mortgage, I haven’t paid the
electricity bill for ages, and then there’s the council tax, and America wasn’t cheap. I had to take out a small loan for that, that’s why those men were here—’

‘What sort of small loan?’ Nell said sharply.

‘Oh, just one of those payday things, but everything was a bit more expensive than I thought it would be, and I couldn’t let the Lockwoods keep paying for us, not when we were
staying at their house for nothing. Then there was Maine, of course – you shared with Florence but I couldn’t allow Oliver to pay for my room. And while I was away, the shop was closed
and so we made even
less
money than usual last month.’