At that moment, Mum came into the kitchen asking me silently with her eyes whether I’d been able to talk any sense into him. I gave her a short shake of my head and felt my heart constrict when I saw tears welling in her eyes.
“Eli, sweetheart,” she soothed, moving over to wrap an arm around his shoulder. “Why don’t you let me make you something to eat? I think I’ve got a homemade chicken pie in the freezer, it wouldn’t take long to heat it up.”
“I don’t want your fucking pie,” he growled, shaking off her touch.
“Right,” I snapped, snatching the beer from his hands. “You don’t get to speak to Mum like that and be a total wanker to her at the same time.”
I emptied the contents into the sink and slammed the bottle onto the draining board before turning back to my brother.
“Can’t tell me what to do,” he said, glaring at me. “Neither can she and why isn’t she on one of her fucking crusades?”
Mum whimpered beside me and I reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
“Because she’s looking after your sorry arse.” I grabbed him with my hand around his bicep and pulled him toward the door into the hallway. “You’re getting some sleep then you’re going to get a shower and eat something, because if you want her back, you’re going the wrong way about it. As if she’d want to come back to you in this state?”
Elijah tried to pull away from me as he swung a hand in my direction, but I dodged it and he stumbled.
“Oh god,” Mum whispered.
“It’s okay,” I told her over my shoulder. “You get the pie out and when he’s had a couple of hours of sleep, he’ll be ready for it.”
She flattened her lips together and nodded, leaving me to deal with my broken brother.
* * *
Dad came back into the lounge with a grim look on his face, rubbing a hand over his thick thatch of dark hair. For a man of fifty-seven, he was still in good shape and looked a lot younger than his years, but the past few weeks had aged both my parents.
“Nope,” he said. “They won’t tell me. All Lee said was that she’d moved away for a while and Elijah would be hearing from her solicitor. I tried to tell him that Elijah had no idea what happened until he spoke to Rachel later that night, but he says Amy is adamant what she saw.”
“Alcohol,” Mum snapped. “Bloody alcohol, it’s damned evil at times. I know my son and I know how much he loves that girl, he would never do that to her if he was sober.”
“He says he didn’t do it at all, Mum. When he woke up all that was missing was his t-shirt, he even had his boots on. Luke has vouched for that, but she won’t listen.”
“Well if he hadn’t been in that state, that stupid Lauren girl couldn’t have taken advantage of him, and what the hell is Amy thinking, just running away like that. Twenty whole minutes she gave him to talk, after being together for six years.”
“Hey, Yvetta, come on,” Dad said, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “She saw what she saw and she’s in an emotional state of mind. She’s still grieving love, we have to remember that. I agree she should try and think more logically about it all and listen to Elijah, but we have no idea what her mental state is like at the moment.”
I thought back to my conversation with Amy in the kitchen at the party, and she was definitely still struggling with losing their baby, especially as it was coming up to her due date.
“This is why I don’t do damn girlfriends,” I muttered, as my phone call to let Maisie down ran through my head.
During our night together, I could imagine myself falling for her, wanting to make it something more than a hook-up that was for sure, but Elijah’s current fucking shit storm had soon put an end to that. I needed to be there for him, he was struggling, and even though Luke and Alex tried to help at times, they were about as much use as a one-legged man in an arse kicking competition. They had no idea what to do with him, except help him get plastered. It had also shown me that even the best of relationships could turn fucking toxic and I did not want to go there. I’d had my heart ripped out once, and it was once too often. No, Maisie West was best finding some nice bloke who took her out three nights a week, rang her every lunchtime, told her he loved her after a month, and then proposed after six, only to marry her a year later. She was pretty, funny, and sweet and she did not need me and my black heart fucking her life up because I couldn’t commit.
“Oh,” Mum said, gasping and putting a hand to her cheek. “I totally forgot, a pretty blonde girl called here for you earlier. Said she needed to speak to you, but has lost your number and didn’t have the address of your flat.”
My heart gave an extra beat. “Did she give her name?” I asked, wondering if by huge coincidence it was Maisie. Although there’d been a few pretty blondes in my life, Maisie was the only one I’d ever brought to Mum and Dad’s house.
“She didn’t say, but she left you a note. I’m so sorry love, it went clear out of my head with Elijah coming home in that state.”
“It’s fine Mum.”
That was another thing worrying me – when was my brother actually going to go back to the flat and continue to live his life. He couldn’t stay at Mum and Dad’s forever, and call me a fucking shithead, but I couldn’t afford it on my own, especially as I was saving like mad to have enough to offer to my boss to buy the recruitment agency I worked for.
Mum’s hand came into my view as she handed me a piece of paper. I unfolded it and read the neat handwriting.
Sam, I’m really sorry that Elijah is having a bad time and I know you explained why you can’t see me anymore, but I need to talk to you. Do you think you could give me a call on my new number 07783 098451. Thanks, Maisie.
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly feeling dry, as my lungs began to work extra hard. There were a couple of reasons why a girl wrote you a note like that, and seeing as I’d worn a condom that night, both those reasons didn’t seem possible – so why was my fucking heart hammering at one hundred miles an hour?
