She reached for the phone whilst still trying to kiss Elliott, and must have inadvertently answered a video call from her parents because when she looked at the screen their confused faces were staring back at her while in the tiny box was the image of Elliott kissing her ear. ‘Oh sh... shalom, good morning, Mum. Dad. Just a second.’ She angled the phone down so hopefully all they could see now was the bed covers. She turned to Elliott. ‘I don’t suppose you can speak French,’ she whispered.
‘Mais oui, bien sur, ma cherie.’
‘That’s perfect. Strong on the accent.’
‘Oh, you like that?’
‘Shhhh. French only while I speak to my parents.’
‘What?’ She gave him a look. ‘Quoi?’
She flipped her phone back over. ‘Hi.’ She gave an awkward wave. ‘Sorry about that. I’m just here with—’
‘Bonjour, jem’appelleElliott.’
Maybe this was a bad idea. ‘Anyway, what’s up?’
‘Elliott it would seem,’ said her dad with thunderous eyes. If he hadn’t looked so cross it would have been funny.
‘Oh no, he’s just popped by. He’s going now.’ She shooed a very confused Elliott with a wave of her hand. He responded by throwing back the covers and getting out of bed, and she had to bring the phone closer to her face to avoid him flashing her parents, although they seemed almost as alarmed by her early morning close-up. ‘Are you both okay?’ she asked while watching Elliott leave the room. He had a gorgeous bum.
‘We’re sorry to call so early,’ said her mum. She had a troubled expression, which Darla assumed was not solely down to seeing her daughter being kissed by a random stranger. ‘It is early where you are, isn’t it?’ asked her mum.
‘Yes, very. But that’s okay. What’s wrong?’
Her mum looked to her dad. Darla felt uneasy. ‘There’s no easy way to say this but we thought you ought to hear it from us rather than someone else—’
‘Or on the internet,’ chipped in her mum. ‘I got a message from a friend of Barbara’s who’d had a Facebook thingy from a friend of his mum.’
She loved them but, boy, sometimes they were frustrating. ‘Hear what?’ she asked.
‘Patrick has been arrested,’ said her dad.
His statement threw her. She should probably seem surprised so belatedly she gasped. ‘Oh dear. But he’s nothing to do with me anymore. We split up a long time ago.’ She feared her very bad acting would give her away.
‘He tried to kidnap someone,’ blurted out her mum, her hand rushing to her mouth.
‘No, he... I’m sure he didn’t mean to,’ said Darla.
‘How do you accidentally kidnap someone?’ asked her dad, still looking cross.
‘I don’t know. But it’s nothing to do with me so that’s good.’ What was she saying?
‘We thought we should warn you in case he got in touch,’ said her father.
‘He might go on the run,’ said her mum, who had possibly been watching too many ITV dramas.
‘No, he’s...’ It was hard not to correct the mistakes in the story and fill in the blanks when she knew that the police hadn’t charged him with anything more serious than attempted theft and criminal damage so he was likely only looking at a fine. ‘I’m sure Patrick will apologise and sort everything out.’
‘The man’s a criminal, Darla. He could be capable of anything.’ Her mum leaned in with wide eyes. ‘He could hold you hostage!’
Yep, far too many ITV dramas. ‘Okay. Well, I’ll be sure to keep away from him. If he were to get in touch. Which he won’t. Because why would he?’ She was gabbling so she stopped and pulled the covers up a little higher.
‘Anyway, we thought you should know so we’ll leave you to... whoever.’
‘Okay, thanks. Love you both. Bye.’ Darla had never been so glad to end a call with her parents.
Chapter Thirty-Five
