‘Fuckety fuckety fuck,’ Kieran said, through gritted teeth, then laughed until his sides ached. And wished Beth was with him to share the moment.
Chapter Forty-Three
The pub was never truly silent. Even at two in the morning, when Ed and Angela had long gone upstairs and the beer taps gleamed in the half-dark, The Jekyll and Hyde retained a heartbeat. Old beams settled, pipes creaked. The ghost of a thousand conversations clung to the walls like mist.
Beth tiptoed across the wooden floor, her footsteps careful, as though she might wake the building itself. The only light came from the green glow of the emergency-exit sign, casting long shadows that made the room look bigger, or emptier. She wasn’t sure which.
Her gaze drifted to the pinball machine. The Wish Master, although Beth hadn’t mastered the art of making wishes. She still couldn’t believe that Gigi’s own wish, to be centre stage in the pub, had been granted.
Now, in the hush of near darkness, the machine looked dormant, the brass trim catching faint glimmers of light. The genie on the back glass looked half-mocking, half-inviting.
Beth swallowed. ‘I must be mad,’ she whispered.
‘You say that as if it’s a bad thing.’
Gigi’s voice floated out of the shadows moments before he shimmered into existence, perched cross-legged on top of the machine like a disco Buddha. Tonight, his waistcoat was magenta sequins, his trousers a violent electric blue. He sparkled like a feverish dream.
‘Sweetheart,’ he said, ‘you could at least knock.’
‘I wasn’t expecting you’ – Beth gestured helplessly at him – ‘to appear when it’s unplugged.’
‘Unplugged?’ Gigi scoffed. ‘Please. Don’t you remember our early encounters? Anyway, technology is a suggestion, not a boundary.’
She sighed, rubbing her temples. ‘I can’t sleep.’
‘Oh, lucky me.’ Gigi fluttered his eyelashes. ‘Tell Uncle Gigi everything.’
‘I’m not calling you Uncle anything,’ Beth muttered. ‘And I’m not here for therapy.’
‘Darling, I’m the only therapist you can see at two in the morning without an appointment and a three-month wait. Start talking.’
Beth took a seat at one of the empty tables. The silence pressed in around her, heavy and familiar. She steadied her breathing. ‘I think I’m falling for someone,’ she said. The words felt foreign and frightening in her mouth.
Gigi’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my. Progress. Character development!’
‘Don’t start.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ He pretended to zip his lips, then immediately unzipped them. ‘Actually, I absolutely would, but continue.’
Beth’s heart kicked against her ribs. ‘It’s Kieran.’
Gigi clutched his chest. ‘The techie with the soulful eyes and tragic wallpaper? Thought so. Continue.’
‘No. This is serious.’
‘So am I. Occasionally.’ He softened. ‘What’s the problem, sweetheart?’
Beth stared at the floor. ‘I can’t let this happen.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’ll break him. Or he’ll break me. And I can’t handle any more … loss.’ Her voice thinned around the last word.
Gigi nodded, his expression gentler than she’d ever seen. ‘Luke.’
The name sat between them like a ghost.
Beth’s throat tightened. ‘We tried so hard. Everything we did – the routines, the diets, the appointments, the endless injections and scans and hopes – it all fell apart. And he walked away. He walked away because he couldn’t cope and… I can’t blame him. I couldn’t cope, either.’
