‘Please, Harry, don’t push it.’
‘Liv, I’m your friend. You can tell me anything.’
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. It was better for everyone that I took my problems elsewhere.
‘Fine, if that’s how you’re going to be, I don’t suppose there’s much I can do about it. But, Liv?’
I looked up at Harry.
‘I know there’s more to this. You’ll learn soon enough that shutting people out never helps anything.’
Harry was right, of course, but what she didn’t understand was that I had no choice.
Harry stopped at the door and turned back to me. ‘Oh, and Liv? You owe Seb one hell of an explanation.’
Chapter Forty
Bertie was in a bad mood. He wanted his friends to come over and play, but the atmosphere in the farmhouse had been strained since I broke my news, and I had to tell Bertie what was going on. We walked most of the way home in silence, Bertie kicking loose rocks along the path. When we reached the farmhouse, he went to put the TV on in the living room.
‘Not right now, Bertie,’ I said, taking the remote control from his hand. ‘I need to talk to you. Let’s go up to our room.’
‘But I want to watch TV.’
‘And you can, as soon as we’ve had a little talk.’
Bertie grabbed his school bag and stomped up the stairs. Once in our room, he pulled out his iPad and flicked it on to a game. I took the device from his hands, laying it on the bedside table. Bertie frowned and crossed his arms.
‘Bertie, there’s something important I need to tell you. It’s about Dad.’
‘Does he want to see me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Great, can I go at the weekend? He won’t cancel again, will he?’
‘Bertie, this isn’t about a weekend visit. Your dad wants us to be a family again.’
‘You mean, like, live together again?’
‘Yes.’
Bertie blew out air from between his lips. He looked around the bedroom we shared. ‘I can’t imagine Dad here.’
‘No, neither can I. In fact, your dad doesn’t want to live here with us. He wants us to go back to Exeter and live with him there.’
Bertie laughed. ‘We can’t go back there, don’t be silly.’
‘Bertie…’
The smile dropped from Bertie’s face. ‘You haven’t said yes?’
‘It’s the best thing for all of us. You’ll get to spend loads of time with Dad and you’ll get to see your old friends again.’
‘At weekends?’
‘No, at school.’ I was trying hard to make my voice cheery, but it came out more like a doped-up kids’ TV presenter.
Bertie stood up, glaring down at me. ‘You’re not sending me back to my old school. I hated it there.’
