“What do you know about it?” Bella huffed, and Lucy didn’t answer. She didn’t know much about it at all. She didn’t miss her mother; she missed the mother she wished she’d had. But she couldn’t explain that to Bella.
They wandered around Whitehaven after they’d had their hot chocolates, looking at the shops and killing another hour. Lucy tried to engage Bella in conversation, but each time Bella’s answers became more monosyllabic and unfriendly and finally she stopped speaking altogether, so Lucy stopped trying.
By the time they boarded the train back to Hartley-by-the-Sea, Lucy was feeling unaccountably tired. She was so weary of trying with people and feeling as if she were getting nowhere at all.
Just once she wanted someone to try with her. Too bad no one was lining up for that role, in any capacity.
The clouds had cleared and the sky was a lovely, deep blue as they headed down the high street to Alex’s house. Lucy was a little curious as to where Alex lived; she certainly wasn’t expecting the tumbledown terraced Victorian with the crooked and cracked front steps, a wild, unmanageable garden, and a sharply peaked roof of weathered slate. It was in need of a lot of love and DIY, but it was charming too, the kind of house that should have elves living at the bottom of the garden.
“It’s a mess, I know,” Bella muttered, opening the gate, which squeaked in loud protest. She walked up the front steps and fiddled with a key before she managed to unlock the front door. “Dad’s not home yet,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You don’t have to wait or anything.”
Lucy hesitated, then followed Bella up the steps and into the dark front hallway, which was a mess of cluttered papers, books, boots, and coats. Charlie, the Lab she’d met at the beach, came lumbering out of the kitchen, his tongue hanging out expectantly. Bella dropped down to her knees and petted him while he slobbered over her before turning to Lucy.
“Umm . . . good doggy.” Lucy patted him on his head. Apparently this was enough to win the Lab’s devotion, because he threw himself onto the floor, his chunky body draped over her feet as he offered his tummy to be scratched.
Bella rose and kicked off her clunky boots, adding them to the jumble on the floor. “You don’t have to stay,” she said again, and Lucy couldn’t tell from her tone whether she wanted her to.
She should just take herself off, she supposed. Check in at school before heading back to Tarn House. Juliet’s warm and cozy kitchen was a sight more enticing than the cold darkness of Alex’s house.
Alex’s house felt unlived in, unloved. The kind of house that felt empty even when there were people in it. Bella had slouchedinto the kitchen, and Charlie scrambled to his feet and trotted after her. After a moment Lucy followed.
The kitchen was even more of a disaster than the hall; breakfast dishes littered the circular table by the window, the bowls half-filled with milk and soggy cereal. A cereal box lay on its side, trailing bits of granola. A single cup of coffee, only half-drunk, had been left by the sink, along with a pint of milk, which was now probably sour.
Lucy wasn’t particularly tidy, but she had a mad urge to clean everything up and make some nourishing meal for Alex and Poppy to come home to. To turn this cold, dark, depressing house into a place that was cozy and comfortable, warm and welcoming.
Not your problem,she reminded herself. Even so, she put the milk back in the fridge.
Bella let Charlie out into the back garden and then turned to face Lucy belligerently. “Why are you still here?” she asked, not bothering to disguise her hostility, and Lucy blinked before shaking her head slowly, her hand still on the door of the fridge.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, and took a step towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Your dad will be home soon, I’m sure.”
Bella shrugged, but Lucy thought she saw disappointment or even hurt in the girl’s eyes.
No, she was being fanciful. Wishing Bella needed her, wanted her, when really the girl didn’t.
“Okay, then,” she said, and with Bella giving her the death stare of indifference, she turned around and headed for the hall.
Stupid to care,she told herself.Stupid to feel hurt. You barely know these people.She wrenched open the front door and stepped out, only to collide with what felt like a brick wall but was, she realized almost instantly, Alex Kincaid’s chest.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her still for a second, before he thrust her away from him so hard and fast she nearly fell over.
“Lucy.” He stared at her, his expression unreadable and yet also strangely fierce. “You’re back,” he said, and Lucy nodded.
“Yes, I dropped Bella off. I was just leaving. Mission accomplished, so . . .”
“Thank you,” he said, and she could tell he really meant it. “But you can’t just run off. . . .”
“She could stay for dinner,” Poppy offered, ducking out from behind him to offer Lucy a wide smile. “Are we having sausages again?”
“No—,” Alex began, and Lucy blinked at the blatant rejection.
“No, of course not, I don’t want to intrude,” she said quickly, practically tripping over her words. She sidled past Alex, trying not to touch him again, and stepped out onto the front stoop. “I was just seeing Bella home, and I’ll see you tomorrow at school. You too, Poppy.” She waved, a bit frantically, and then stilled in shock when Alex put his hand on her shoulder.
“I didn’t mean no to you staying for supper,” he said. “I meant no to sausages. We’ve had them two nights in a row and I’m sick of them. And in any case, we don’t have any more. I can’t promise a stellar meal, but it—it would be nice if you stayed for supper.”
Lucy just kept her jaw from dropping. She blinked at him instead. Was this just a thank-you for buying the bra, or . . .
No, best not to think about motives. “Well . . . ,” she began, her gaze sliding to Bella, who was standing in the hallway, her arms folded, definitely not looking thrilled by the prospect.
