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‘Don’t you know about Calum and your brother?’ Anne said.
‘Well… yes.’ The carpet came swooping out from under her feet, knocking her sideways faster than one of Calum’s kicks could have done.
‘I thought your parents would have told you all about it.’ Anne’s gaze was cool and her voice steady. ‘That’s why it surprises me that you want anything to do with him.’
Rhona blinked rapidly as she processed the words. They had told her. Of course they had. But discussing it here was the wrong time and place. Acid rose in her stomach, burning its way up her gut. Anne looked back at her son and Rhona followed suit, clapping as Calum left the arena. If she could focus on him and block out everything else, she could make this work. She had to.
Ron regurgitated the performance, beaming from ear to ear. Rhona jammed her hands under her armpits and restrained a shudder. What had made Calum attack Arran? She’d never asked him. She’d taken him at face value, as she’d done with Annike. Her parents’ hatred of Calum must have some basis in fact. Had she let infatuation cloud her judgement? Or was she too afraid to hear the truth?
She gave herself a mental shake. What he’d done in the past didn’t change the fact he’d always been gentle with her; he’d never shown any signs of violence. But what if he was unstable? She held her face, resting her elbows on her knees, and stared forward. A niggly ache prodded her tummy.Find out the truth.If she was going to enter into a relationship with him, she had a right to know exactly what had happened with him and Arran. But she wanted to hear it from him. Why had he never mentioned it before? Maybe for the same reason she’d never asked him. It didn’t seem important when they were together. When she stepped back to view the bigger picture, she had to find out.
Anne looked too formidable to ask and she might spin the story if she thought it would scare Rhona away from her precious son. Rhona hated conflict. There was enough fighting below, they didn’t need a verbal war in the stands.
‘Quarter final next.’ Ron rubbed his broad palms together.
The mats had been cleared and one centre stage set up. Rhona watched the first quarter, holding her breath and chewing her cuticles almost to bleeding point. These guys were fast and brutal. Could Calum match this kind of performance? She crossed her fingers.
When the first winner was announced, she clapped along, but her blood was thumping in her ears. Calum was up next. He strode out with a slightly shorter but much beefier guy. Rhona bit her lip. This was going to be tough. How could Calum make any inroads against that wall of muscle? Surely this guy would bludgeon him. She could hardly bear to watch. On the edge of her seat, she leaned forward as they bowed. The sparring was fast. The floor squeaked. Calum moved like lightning, ducking a punch, then throwing one of his own. It was a blur of suits, feet and fists. Ron growled and Anne gasped, clutching the chair. Rhona wasn’t sure what was going on, but Calum avoided another punch and spin-kicked in such a way it caught his opponent square on the shoulder. From where he’d been seconds before it looked impossible.
‘Bloody fantastic,’ roared Ron. ‘He has to get the win for that, he has to.’
The whistle blew and Calum and his opponent stepped back onto their coloured squares. The adjudicator retreated, blew his whistle again and pointed at Calum. Ron shook the whole row, jumping to his feet.
‘No bloody way!’ he yelled. ‘He’s in the semis. I don’t believe it. This is bloody amazing!’
Rhona sat back in her seat and rubbed her sternum.This is too much.She needed air. Thankfully, only two more quarter-finals remained before they broke for lunch. She couldn’t wait to get out, almost running down the stairs and joining the queue for the canteen. A few seconds later, she remembered to check for Anne and Ron. They were right behind her. What should she say? Before she could think of anything, she spotted Calum strolling towards them, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt. Rhona held back as Anne and Ron swamped him with praise and love.
‘Thanks.’ He untangled himself from their grip.
He’d miss that if they got together. Even if he’d lost in the first round, they would have greeted him with as much love and joy. They were so enraptured by him, it seemed possible even if he’d beaten up Arran for no reason they would have stood by him anyway. He was their boy.
Catching his eye, she smiled. He returned it, running his fingers through his damp hair.
‘That was amazing.’ She reached out and patted his arm. ‘I don’t know what’s going on most of the time but it looked great.’
‘I’m not sure what happened,’ Calum said. ‘I shouldn’t really have beaten the last guy.’
‘But you did,’ said Anne.
‘I did.’ He stepped closer to Rhona and took her hand, squeezing it in his. ‘You ok?’
She nodded. Her worries about what had happened with Arran all those years ago dispersed now Calum was back beside her. ‘It’s a bit nerve-racking.’
‘Don’t worry on my account. I’ve done better than I expected, so it’s all good.’
‘You should try it yourself,’ Ron said. ‘Karate’s a great sport.’
‘I have,’ Rhona said. ‘A bit. Calum practised some of his moves on me.’
‘Did he now?’ Ron pulled a giant grin, his eyebrows inching up his head.
‘Oh my god.’ Rhona clutched her cheeks. ‘That came out all wrong.’
Ron burst out laughing and bent over holding his knees. Anne rolled her eyes.
‘Seriously, Dad. It’s not that funny.’
‘Ron.’ Anne’s voice cracked like a whip. ‘Stop being ridiculous.’
