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‘No, it’s all right.’ Usually, Liam kept what happened to himself – every detail a heavy weight that dragged him down. But here with Rosie, in Driftwood House, keeping secrets felt toxic. ‘I met Dee two years ago, in a night club, and she moved into the farmhouse with us six months later.’
‘Local lothario Liam Satterley was in love.’
Was she taking the mick? Liam’s sideways look was returned with a gentle smile. ‘So what happened next?’ she asked, taking a step towards him.
‘On the day of the wedding she realised she couldn’t marry me after all. Terrible timing, huh?’
‘Why did she change her mind?’
‘It was the age-old story,’ he said, still keeping his tone bright, jokey even. ‘She’d fallen in love with someone else. Hard to believe, isn’t it?’
He gave his Jack-the-Lad laugh, the one everyone expected. But it came out all wrong because his chest was so tight.
‘Impossible to believe! I mean, how could she possibly do better than you?’ asked Rosie with a smile.
‘I know, right?’
‘Is she still with… the other man?’
I’m so over her I have no idea what she’s doing now.That’s what he should have said. But instead he pulled his phone from his pocket, clicked onto Facebook and searched for Deanna’s name. The sight of her familiar, beautiful face made his stomach lurch, even after all these months. He pushed the phone at Rosie. ‘Take a look.’
Rosie scrolled through Deanna’s timeline, through endless photos of her in the arms of another man, before handing the phone back. ‘I hope you don’t often look at her Facebook.’
‘Hardly ever,’ he lied.
When Rosie glanced up at him, he noticed for the first time the freckles scattered across her nose.
‘Well, Deanna’s pretty, but her new boyfriend is pug-ugly.’
Liam’s snort of laughter echoed through the stripped room and Rosie’s beaming smile lit up the gloomy morning. She looked like an oil painting, thought Liam, standing amid chaos with her hair all over the place, paint on her nose and streaks of red soil from the clifftop between her toes. A sudden beam of sunlight had caught her sideways on and she was glowing.
A ringing phone – Liam’s this time – broke the spell. His mum was calling.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked as he answered it, his eyes back on Rosie.
‘Yes, love. No need to panic. Are you still up at Driftwood House helping Sofia’s girl?’
‘Yes, but I’ll be back soon.’
‘That’s fine. I wasn’t chasing you. I was ringing to speak to Rosie, actually.’
‘Rosie?’
‘That’s right. If you could pass me over.’
‘Um… OK.’ Liam held out the phone, puzzled. ‘My mum would like a word, if that’s all right.’
Rosie frowned but took the phone and wandered into the hall. She came back a couple of minutes later and handed the phone back.
‘What was that all about?’
Rosie smiled. ‘Your mum’s invited me to yours for a Sunday roast tomorrow. She thinks I’m wasting away up here on my own. I did say not to worry, but she was quite insistent.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Liam pushed the phone into his pocket. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Rosie coming round and wished his mother had cleared it with him first. But it was done now. ‘Well, she’s a great cook so you’ll get a good meal, and the third degree, probably. She likes to know everything about her guests.’
‘That’s mums for you.’ Rosie’s smile faltered. ‘I suppose I’d better get on with the painting.’
‘And I’d better get back to the farm because there’s lots to do.’
