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“Your mother’s favourite book was Lady Chatterley’s Lover…”
The way his voice caresses the word lover has my pulse hitching, and my heart racing a staccato beat that has my fingers itching to pick up my guitar and strum the same wild chords. His voice trails off when Grandma coughs, reminding us both that she’s here.
“It was?” I whisper, feeling raw, flayed open somehow. I didn’t know that. I didn’t know he was a friend of my parents, or that Grandma knew him too. What else don’t I know?
“Yes, Kai here knew your mother and father. They were friends, they grew up together,” Grandma finally explains.
“You did?” I blurt out.
“Yes. I lived on the island too. This is my home.”
“Thisis your home?” I repeat, gobsmacked. Grandma has never once mentioned him. My parents never mentioned him as far as I can recall, and if I find out that he once lived here in this bloody house of all places I might just lose it.
Grandma Silva laughs, tutting. “No, notthishouse, silly girl.”
I can feel my cheeks flush. I love my Grandma, I really do, but when she speaks to me like I’m still ten and not an adult, it makes me wish that I’d left the island with my friends just to prove that I don’t rely on her as much as she believes. Except I do. She knows it and so do I.
“You grew up here?” I repeat like a broken record.
He nods, a stray piece of ebony hair falling across his forehead. I have the urge to sweep it back off his face. “I left shortly after my sixteenth birthday. This is the first time I’ve been back in twenty years.”
Twenty years? That makes him… thirty-six.
Is it wrong that makes him more attractive, not less? I’ve never been attracted to boys my own age, not that there are many on the island, but still, there’s something to be said about a man who’s lived a life and not a boy who’s looking to start it.
“How did you know Grandma would still be living here?”
“I didn’t,” he shrugs, as if that’s answer enough.
“Why did you leave?” I blurt out, not thinking. I mean, clearly he left for a very good reason. One I have no business asking about. Malakai stiffens and a look passes between him and Grandma.
“That’s not important. The fact that you’re back, is,” Grandma Silva responds, shutting that line of questioning down. What is she hiding? More to the point, why? I let it go, for now.
“How’s Clayhill? Has it fallen into disrepair yet?” Malakai asks Grandma, clearly relieved not to have to answer my probing question.
I frown. “Clayhill?”
“Yes, my home.”
“That’syourplace? But I thought…”
“It is,” he cuts in, still giving me his profile as though he can’t bear to look at me. The curtness of his answer has my mouth snapping shut. Why is he being such a dick?
Grandma tuts, clucking her tongue. “In answer to your question, no, Clayhill hasn’t fallen into disrepair. I’ve made sure it has been looked after. Lola lives there now.”
“She does?” Malakai seems surprised, but no more than I am. There’s a familiarity when he speaks her name.
Grandma Silva chuckles. “Yes, it seemed appropriate given your history. You need to go see her soon.”
“Fuck,” he exclaims, swiping a hand over his face. It’s the first time I’ve seen an ounce of something like emotion cross his features. Lola affects him. My stomach coils painfully.
“Yes, indeed. Lola has plenty she needs to say to you. I’m pretty certainarsehole,wankeranddipshitare the first words she’ll voice given she’s used them to describe you enough times in our chats over the past year.”
“Grandma!” I say, shocked. She never swears, likeever. Also, I never knew she was so close to Lola. Clearly they’re friendly enough to have conversations about Malakai. Conversations that I’ve never been privy to.
Grandma just shrugs, a grin pulling up her lips. “Oh, sweet child, I have lived a very long life. I think I can afford a swear word here and there, don’t you?”
I don’t answer because now that I’ve gotten over the shock of my dear, old Grandma swearing like some of the fishermen down at the harbour, my thoughts have turned to how Lola and Malakai know each other and what their history is. I consider asking, but something tells me I’m not going to like the answer.
