Page 28 of The Next Chapter
Before he gets in, he gives Lola another wave.
I feel… I don’t know, angry? Yes, I think it’s that. It’s the fact that, at times, Lola seems so happy and content in a way that feels impossibly alien to me. It’s definitely anger. Irrational or not.
‘Did y’all get everything you need?’
‘Yes.’ It comes out sharp. Lola doesn’t say anything.
I take a breath, relax my shoulders, stamp the anger down because it isn’t helping anyone. ‘I think I got enough for now. Thank you for bringing me.’ I climb back in, balancing the paper bags with all my food in by my feet.
‘I’m cooking for Noah tonight,’ I tell Lola for absolutely no reason. ‘Risotto,’ I finish like an idiot, thinking that if I just keep talking, it’ll stop me from dwelling on the anger.
Lola starts the engine again. ‘I’m sure he’ll appreciate that, Lily, he likes risotto, and did I see y’all running around the loch earlier? Noah has always loved that route.’
I resist the urge to whip my head around in a very dramatic WTF moment.
Noah definitely didn’t say that he’d been around the loch a lot.
In fact, he made out like we were going to figure it out to see if it would work for a fun run.
Though he did know that little infinity pool was there, which should have maybe given him away.
Not the time to be thinking about the infinity pool.
Wait, did he lie as an excuse to spend more time with me?
‘My mum said that when I was a teenager, all I ate was carbs,’ I tell Lola just for something to say and she laughs.
‘Are your mum and dad retired?’ she asks.
I swallow and shake my head. I don’t want to tell Lola that they’ve died. It’s like I’m betraying them to admit it. Though that makes zero sense. Or maybe it feels too close to the painful reality of it all. Skye isn’t real life. Instead, I talk as if they’re still here.
‘Mum’s a piano teacher. Had me in music lessons before I could talk by all accounts,’ I tell her, ‘and Dad works in the local secondary school. He’s a history teacher.
’ The facade is slipping, on my alternate reality.
It’s incredibly hard, talking about your parents as if they’re here when they’re not.
‘They sound like good people,’ she says.
‘They are, the best,’ I tell her.
‘I’m ever so pleased to hear that, Lily.’
We’re both quiet the rest of the journey back.
Me, lost in memories of my parents. Of how different it would be if they were still here.
I wouldn’t be in this car with Lola right now, that’s for sure.
I don’t know what Lola’s thinking, only that she is thinking hard.
She pushes her lips together and tugs at the bottom one with her teeth.
She seems to be driving on autopilot, and by the time the gravel crunches under the truck’s tyres, she looks shocked.
‘Thanks again for the lift,’ I tell her, struggling to balance both the shopping bags in my arms.
‘No problem, Lily. Y’all have a nice evening now. I’ll see you soon.’
‘Yeah, bye Lola.’ I feel a shimmer of unease as I leave down the side of the hotel to the cottages.
Running over what I said in the car. We hardly talked and when we did, I definitely talked about Mum and Dad.
Probably it was just Lola being Lola. It’s like she can be fine, but then she goes all quiet and intense.
I resolve to try to ask Noah about her some more later.
Speaking of Noah, he’s going to be here in an hour. And this risotto isn’t going to cook itself.
‘My arm is killing me!’ I complain to Seb. He’s on speaker, my phone propped on the small kitchen worktop.
‘Risotto is never worth it. All that effort for soggy rice. I don’t know why you bother.’
‘It’s a staple meal!’ I protest, holding my stirring arm up with my other one. ‘It’s exactly the sort of thing you’d make for a business meeting but also to say thanks for stopping me drowning today.’
‘Yes, well, nothing says thank you for saving my life like rice.’
‘I’ve made a salad too.’
‘Never doubted it. Anything else to report from up there?’
‘Not really. I did see Lola with some vet, though. I think they might have a thing.’
‘I can see her with a vet,’ Seb muses. ‘What about Ashton, though?’
‘What about him? If Lola was in love with him, she’s waited long enough.’
‘True. So what’s this business meeting you and Noah are having?’
‘I told you, he wants to try to help Lola out this summer. He’s already writing the article to bring business her way and he has this idea for the fun run. He just wants to chat about some other ideas.’
‘I can’t believe you went up there with the intention of meeting your birth mum and now you’re single-handedly saving her hotel. This could not be more you coded if you tried.’
‘I’m not single-handedly saving the hotel. You’re so dramatic. I’m just helping Noah to help Lola. In secret. Because apparently Lola is too proud to ask for help.’
‘And you’re doing all of this without her knowing who you really are. It’s like a movie… what could possibly go wrong?’
‘It’s not like a movie.’
‘Playing devil’s advocate here: what happens if you just tell her who you are?’
I think while I stir. Seb’s half right. The sensible thing to do here is to tell Lola who I am.
Carrying on the lie is frankly ridiculous.
I can’t see Lola kicking off or being mean about it.
I doubt she’d throw me out. She seems to collect waifs and strays, if anything.
And while I’m neither waif nor stray, as a highly strung orphan, I’d fit the bill.
It’s just I can’t picture myself saying it.
It’s like a cliff I need to jump off for my own good, but I can’t see the bottom.
I don’t know what’ll happen if I jump, but it feels scary and potentially quite messy.
Lola not knowing who I am is safe. I can learn about her.
I can study her. I can hear all about why she did what she did, why she quit the band, in this nice safe little cocoon.
‘It gets messy and awkward,’ I reply, finally. ‘I hate messy and awkward.’
‘When you get therapy, make sure you mention the fact that you dodge confrontation.’
‘I do not appreciate the “when” not “if” in that sentence.’
‘Everyone needs therapy, there’s no shame in it. Now let me sit in my deep-seated need for vicarious pleasure… tell me about the kiss again.’
I groan loudly, already regretting telling Seb.
‘I told you already, it was great, and then I got cramp in my leg and ruined it.’
‘Sounds like you need a do-over.’
‘I do not need a do-over. There is absolutely no future for me and Noah. Continuing down this path would be insanity.’
‘You could jump him after the risotto.’
‘What? Are you listening to me? Even if there was a future with him, and there isn’t, I’ve only known him three days and we’ve kissed once. I made Colin wait a month before we did it.’
‘There is so much I could say about that. But according to you, you don’t have that sort of time with Noah. I vote for jumping him.’
‘Of course you do.’
‘I mean it, you know you like it really.’
Seb’s right. I do like it. It’s like the swearing. It might not be in my MO, but sex takes me out of my own head, just like running.
Good sex, I should say, the sort that distracts me from thoughts of dead relatives watching on.
There’s a knock at the cottage doors.
‘Shit, he’s here. What should I do?!’
‘You’ve been stirring that risotto for decades. Let the poor guy in so you can eat it.’ There’s a pause. ‘And then shag him.’
‘Seb!’
‘Er, just letting you know that I can hear your conversation,’ Noah calls from the outside.
Seb must hear enough of what Noah says to start cackling. I end the call mid-cackle and pull open the door to Noah, my face absolutely on fire.
‘We’re having risotto?’ he asks, half his mouth pulled into a smile.
‘Ohmygod, I’m so sorry that you heard that.
I don’t… I never…’ I draw a blank. Whether through shame or the fact that Noah is wearing a soft grey shirt, I don’t know.
His hair looks wet, and it’s pushed back for once.
He has a notebook in his hand. It’s a good thing that I am mortified, otherwise there’s a chance I really would jump him.
He starts to laugh. ‘Don’t worry about it, Lily.’ He smiles a full smile now. ‘You look nice.’
He’s probably just being polite. I get that. Especially since I don’t feel nice. I feel unravelled, and as predicted, my now dry hair is frizzing up with gusto.
‘Thanks, you look…’ Edible. That’s weird that I think that, right? Luckily, I manage to stop my brain from spouting it out, settling on ‘nice’ too. It’s bland, but also less Armie Hammer.
‘Come in.’ I step aside and let him pass, only doing the shallowest of breaths as he does. I don’t want to know that he smells clean and kind of earth-like. But I can’t be held responsible if I just happen to breathe in some of his smell. We all need to breathe.
‘I hope risotto’s okay?’ I ask, going back to stirring to give me something to do. Seb’s right, this is a lot of effort for wet rice. ‘I made a salad too.’ I’m the embodiment of lame.
‘Great, thanks.’ Noah sits on the sofa. ‘I’ll eat anything.’
I’ve put a bottle of wine on the little glass coffee table that’s now back in front of the sofa since Seb isn’t here anymore. I’m suddenly very, very aware that every single thing I’ve done screams DATE instead of BUSINESS MEETING. Like at all. Oh good god, I lit a candle. I look over at him.
‘You’re panicking again,’ he says.
‘Nooooo.’ I draw it out. ‘I’m not panicking.
Just, er, recalibrating. Like yes, we have wine.
But we don’t have to drink it, you know, because this is about Lola and the hotel.
I have water, obviously. Everyone has water.
Fresh water from the spring… couldn’t be fresher.
Shall we make a point of that, erm, somewhere?
Or some more of that lemonade that Harper hated. We can have whatever you like.’
‘Do you always put so much thought into what you have to drink?’ he asks.