Page 50 of Forbid It

“I love this song,” Cassie says, thankfully changing the subject, as Dream A Little Dream of Me by The Mamas and Papas plays over the radio. She turns to the window, and I keep my attention fixed on the road, even as she starts to quietly sing along.

Her voice is sultry and smooth. She’s not even trying, not performing for anyone but herself, but I feel lucky to even be here. It’s so effortless, the way she hits each beat with an ease that I’d envy if I gave any care to sing myself.

I’m silent, just listening, and when the song ends, I’m almost tempted to call the radio station and make them play it again.

The rest of the drive passes like that. We listen to the radio as the sun finally sets on the horizon, and whenever a song comes on, I keep my mouth shut just so she sings again. I don’t think she notices.

It’s only when I pull off the motorway, and we start to hit the quieter winding roads, that Cassie starts to fidget.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

No. “Probably could have asked that question four hours ago, trouble.”

I glance at her as she plays with the rings on her fingers, and I want to still her hands with my own.

“I can stay in a hotel,” she says. “I saw one back there. Hotel Gwesty?”

I can’t help the snicker I let out. “The Hotel Hotel?”

“Huh?”

“Gwesty means hotel. We’re in Wales now, Cassie. Two languages on the signs.”

“Well, that explains why there were so many signs for School Ysgol. I thought it was an anagram.”

I can’t help laugh in her face.

“Stop laughing. How am I supposed to understand Welsh?”

More laughter.

“Besides, you sound as English as Pip sometimes.” She giggles. “I forget!”

My laughter quietens as we hit the familiar roads towards my parents house. “Well, wait until you meet my family. They’re more than Welsh enough to make up for what I lack. We’re nearly there anyway.”

I turn down the road, and Cassie presses her nose to the glass as I finally pull into the driveway.

The house isn’t massive, but it’s the end of the cul-de-sac and has a sprawling garden to the back. If you stand at the bathroom window, you can just about make out the sea from above the trees. It was a project when my parents bought it before I was born. Four bedrooms that were always in a state of renovation until I was able to bring home a paycheck big enough to start over.

I cut the ignition. “Come on.”

I grab Cassie’s small bag and my suitcase out of the boot and round the car. She’s still sitting inside, pulling each ring off her finger and putting them back on again.

I open the door and rest my hand on the roof. The sun is now almost completely set bathing the driveway in a bluish hue. “The lights are off, no one will be awake anyway. Come on, we can do introductions tomorrow.”

At least it will give me a few hours to come up with what I’m about to tell my mother.

Like a baby deer learning to walk, Cassie cautiously climbs out of the car, following me across the driveway and hovering behind me as I unlock the door with my key.

From the entrance, you can see the study, the living room and the hallway, all of which are pitch black. Except there’s a line of light peeking under the kitchen door, and I bite back a groan.

I have a fleeting idea to smuggle Cassie upstairs, hide her in my bedroom and lock the door, but a familiar voice shouts from the kitchen, “Robert King, I saw you on the doorbell camera.”

Even in the dark, I see Cassie’s wide eyes.

“Bet you’re wishing you dropped me off at Hotel Gwesty right about now,” she mutters.

I bite my cheek. “Let’s get this over with.”