* * *
An hourlater we stood on Simone’s doorstep, Lauren hammering down the overlarge door knocker, me holding her case and my small overnight bag.
Simone appeared looking pale and tired. And then slightly stunned.
“I didn’t want you to stay on your own tonight and Lauren wants to become BFF’s with your bathtub.”
She looked at the suitcase. “I assume that’s Lauren’s?”
Lauren nodded. “I prepared for everything. I thought that was quite organised.”
“You realise I do have towels.”
Lauren looked confused. “Towels?”
Simone looked at me and shook her head. “If you’re thinking it, don’t say it. I was not like that at fifteen. My overnight bags consisted of my dance kits.”
Lauren harrumphed herself in to the house. “This is my dance kit. And a few other outfits. Just in case.”
I remembered her request to attend a party this weekend, one where I knew a few boys from the college would be.
“You mean for your quiet, studious Saturday night in?”
I felt daggers leave her eyes and stab me.
Simone laughed quietly, a sound that sent waves of relief through my chest. When she’d replied to my messages, she’d sounded quiet, subdued. Unlike her.
“Choose a room, Lauren.”
“Seriously? Even the big one on the top floor?” My daughter scampered upstairs, suitcase and hopefully party, forgotten.
“You didn’t need to come.” She turned round to look at me. “Killian and Nick have upped the security.”
“That isn’t the point.”
Her eyes widened.
“I know your head will be busy right now and being on your own isn’t the healthiest of things.”
She nodded.
“And you don’t leave someone you’re in love with on their own at times like this.”
“Oh.”
It was like she’d only just understood what I’d said earlier.
“Is it not too much disruption to Lauren?”
“I think she’d rather be here than at home. This place has rooms she can take selfies in and add extra hashtags. And it might distract her from this party.” She was in my arms now, her head resting against my chest.
“Toad Hall is opening as planned.”
“Damn right. The restaurant manager you appointed will make sure of that.”
Monica LaFayette had stopped by with her CV on the right day. She was a single mother of two with a father who was wheelchair bound. She had a ton of restaurant experience and had worked her way up rather than having gone to college. She was both motherly and shit scary at the same time. And organised. So fucking organised. Simone hired her on the spot.
“But I have someone who doesn’t seem to want it to be opened.”
