‘Happy birthday, Dad,’ Lissa says, rising on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She hands over her present – a card with gift vouchers inside, dinner for two at a fancy restaurant-slash-wine bar in Bath.
‘This is wonderful!’ he exclaims. ‘Let me know when you’re free and I’ll book it in.’
It takes Lissa a moment to realise what he’s getting at – he thinks it’s supposed to be a meal out withher. ‘Well actually,’ she begins, but the rest of her sentence –it’s for you and Nicole– gets swallowed up by the way he’s beaming at her.
‘David!’ someone calls from next to the smoking barbecue. ‘How burnt do you want these sausages?’
Her dad leaves them with a promise to catch up later, and Lissa and Ash find a spot on the garden steps, next to a bed of tulips and peonies. Lissa sees Elsie down the end of the garden with her friend Jess and waves. She considers it a win when Elsie waves back. She wondered what the fallout was from their unauthorised trip into Bath – no one ever called her about it, so she figured it couldn’t have beenthatbad.
She shifts on the step, the concrete warm against her calves. Her knee knocks against Ash’s as she does so. Neither of them moves away. She glances up at him, finds him watching her.
‘So how’s your dad doing?’ she asks.
‘He’s okay. Not great, but okay. The doctors have him on new medication, which seems to be helping.’ Lissa nods, and Ash sighs. ‘I’m thinking I might need to move in with him for a bit, actually. He keeps telling me not to, but …’ He trails off, but she gets it. She found it hard to move out of her mum’s house, even when space was definitely what they both needed.
‘How’s your mum?’ he asks, and she frowns. Is he reading her thoughts now? He shrugs in explanation. ‘You don’t talk about her much, so I’m reading between the lines a bit here.’
‘She’s … It’s complicated.’
‘Complicated how?’
She chews her lip, thinking of how to explain. ‘So on the one hand I think she might struggle a bit with depression, or a version of it.’ She never really voices this thought out loud, but seeing Ash with his dad makes it easier. ‘And on the … well, on the same hand, I guess, we don’t have the best relationship.’ She looks away from him, towards the stepping stones making their way down a perfectly mown lawn towards a decorative fountain. ‘She sort of blames me for what happened,’ she admits. ‘To Chloe.’
She wonders if he’ll say that he’s sure she doesn’t – everyone says that, quick to jump in and offer reassurance. Only it’s not reassuring, because they don’t know, do they? But he doesn’t. Instead he takes a moment, then says slowly, ‘I imagine something like that … it can either tear you apart or bring you together.’
She lets out a low exhale. ‘Right. Exactly that.’
She can feel his gaze on the side of her face. ‘You ever think maybe she blames herself, too?’
She frowns at that. On some level, she supposes it must be there, but it is always eclipsed by the blame placed on Lissa.
‘So how did the interview go?’ Ash asks, changing the subject. Which is good, because her dad’s birthday barbecue is not the time for an in-depth conversation about her mother. ‘Marketing for Mind, right?’
She smiles. ‘It went well, I think.’ The interviewer remembered her name, Lissa had a genuine answer for why she wanted to work there, and she didn’t feel like she’d babbledtoomuch. ‘I find out if I make it to second interview next week.’
‘That’s great. Well, fingers crossed and all that. I’m sure you impressed them.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Because you were spying on me in the interview?’
‘Yep,’ he says easily. ‘Got you bugged, hope that’s okay.’
She laughs and shifts as subtly as she can to try to put space between their thighs. She’s too aware of how close they are. It’s distracting.
He gives her a friendly nudge with his shoulder. ‘I’m sure because you’re impressive.’
The compliment is given so easily, she doesn’t really know how to take it. She glances at him, finds his eyes right there, waiting for her. She can’t help her gaze being drawn to his lower lip. They’ve not talked about it – the fact they’ve kissed not once, but twice now. Thatshekissed him. Things seem easy between them, the same as always. But there is an awareness humming around her body, a kind ofwhat if. What if he kisses her, this time? What if hedoesn’t?
She realises what she’s doing and looks away, taking a swallowed breath. She glances at him again, and he smiles – easy, natural.
She drums her fingers on her thigh, over her playsuit. ‘Ash?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Do you believe in past lives?’
He raises his eyebrows. ‘I suppose I’ve never really thought about it.’
‘If you did think about it, though,’ she presses, ‘would you believe in it?’
