“I know, Mum.” Owen passes back her phone.
But she shakes her head, holding her hands up. “I don’t need it; you keep it until you hear back from your friend.”
“Go to bed, Mum. We’ll still be here in the morning; we aren’t rushing off.”
“We aren’t?” I ask. “I thought we need to get back to London, start to get back to normal.”
“We do, but he usually replies quickly, and then we can go once we know what’s next. We don’t have any other phones right now. I left mine at Andrews’. I bet the media is loving this.”
“It’s been a day, Owen. I’m sure there hasn’t been anything.”
“There hasn’t been much,” Maria pitches in, helping my cause. “Running some more snippets from that awful explosion. I still can’t believe you were there; you are so lucky.”
“It was awful,” I say. “So many innocent people.”
Owen frowns at me.
“I think I’m going to go to sleep myself,” I say.
“You okay to take the sofa?” Maria asks Owen.
Huh?
I honestly just assumed we would be together in the same bed. How ridiculous is that?
I meet Owen’s eyes briefly, and it’s like he’s thinking the same thing.
“Actually, Maria.” He reaches out and grabs my hand, linking our fingers together and bringing my knuckles to his lips.
Realisation slips onto her face, and she lets out a small laugh. “That’s—that’s wonderful.”
Her expression really doesn’t sell it, but I guess when you’ve brought two kids up, who in your eyes are brother and sister, whether it be biological or not, it probably lands slightly different. Like a wet fart.
“If you find it weird, though—” I say, noticing her apprehension.
“No, it’s fine. I mean, I wasn’t completely blind. You both had a very special bond.”
“Yeah, an abusive foster father will bring people together for sure.”
“Lucy,” Owen reprimands me, and a warm flush creeps over my chest.
“Sorry,” I mumble, releasing our hands. “I’ll see you in the morning, Maria.” I leave them to have their mother son moment.
“It’s been a long day, dear. Don’t look at her like that.” Maria’s soft voice follows me, and I stop at the bottom of the stairs, listening.
“Still, she’s such an arsehole sometimes.”
“Aren’t we all?” I can hear the smile in her voice, her tone light.
“Well, she takes it to the next level.”
Maria lets out a small chuckle. “Her whole past has been re-written tonight, and you’ve found out that she was the reason you went to prison—again. You’re both handling it very well. A little too well if I’m honest.”
“I’m reeling,” Owen admits, sighing. “But I don’t blame her. Not one bit. Happenstance is a funny thing. As for Lucy, well, Luce has probably done what she always does. Acknowledged it by popping it back in her box.”
“I thought you talked.”
“Barely. There will be more talking. She will fight it like she usually does, because God forbid she actually has a conversation.”
