“Is that the same bottle?”
“Half the people on this table aren’t drinking, not even your husband.” He tells me tipping his head towards them, and I catch Brandon looking at me.
He too looks emotional, and the girl with blue hair is rubbing a hand on his shoulder and talking very seriously.
Chapter Twenty-one
Brandon
“Why are you called Pierre?” The question has been on the tip of my tongue ever since I first met her two months ago.
“If I had a pound…” She laughs. “My mother had a crush on a French poet. Anyway.” She hands me a gift-wrapped package; it looks like a large book.
“It was supposed to be for Christmas.” Gabriel tells me. “But you didn’t come to Du Montfort Hall on the big day.”
What do you say when someone you hardly know gives you a present?
“Thank you.” I peel the red tissue paper to find a small photo album. Do people still use these anymore? Why would I need it when I can store thousands of images on my phone? To be polite, I open it and am surprised to find it filled with pictures already, one on each page.
Then my eyes focus on a photo of a man sitting at a long, wooden table in a country kitchen. He’s cradling a bowl of porridge and reading a book, his face in shadow, but I know him. I would recognise that head tilt anywhere. And the long smooth hands placed lightly around the bowl. I flip to the next page. He’s walking across a wide, green lawn surrounded by willow trees. Under his arm is a rolled yoga mat. I keep turning pages, more and more pictures. But in none of them is Liam looking at the camera or even aware of it.
“He would never pose,” Gabriel says. “I only managed to catch him if he didn’t know I was there.”
I say nothing, just keep turning pages. There are twenty-nine in total, all of them beautiful, artistic photographs. All of them show my twin brother just as I knew him; shy, holding lightly to everything. Even life.
The last picture is of him in a suit. Liam? In a suit? I have to smile.
“This was taken at Millie and George’s wedding.” Pierre explains.
She’s the other person in the picture, I now realise although her hair was different shade of blue then. They’re both sitting on a picnic table, their feet up on the bench, and they’re eating what looks like blue cupcakes. Liam has his arm around her waist and she’s leaning her head on his shoulder.
Surprised, I look from Pierre to the picture. Gabriel, her fiancé has turned to speak to George.
“Are you...” I clear my throat and start again. “Were you and Liam…er?”
She grins widely. “No. but we were very good friends. Actually,” – she strokes a finger along the edge of the picture – “He was in love with someone else.” She flicks her eyes toward the far side of the room where Lessa sits next to Millie.
“Who?” I can’t help asking.
“Laura.” she says quietly.
My eyes linger on the striking brunette for minute before shaking my head sadly. “That was Liam all over, always setting his heart on someone out of his league.”
“Not fair.” Pierre is quick to defend him.
I lay a hand on her arm. “I’m not blind to my brother’s qualities, but she,” I study the woman my brother had apparently fallen for.
I know women, and she’s a beautiful, vibrant, burning flame, the kind that needs a strong man to match her inner fire, just like Adam at her side.
“Did she know how Liam felt?” I ask Pierre.
“No, she had no idea and he asked me not to tell her.”
Yes, that too was Liam all over. As far back as I can remember, my brother was always more comfortable loving from a distance. Not for the first time, I wonder about this woman he said he had a relationship with in his last few months.
“Actually,” Pierre suddenly says. “We slept together that night.”
I open my mouth then close it. Pierre laughs. “No, no, nothing like that. But I was very sad and didn’t want to sleep in my own room because…” her eyes slide towards Gabriel who seems to be listening to us, and a look passes between them. He takes her hand and squeezes it.
