Читать книгу The Neighbours: A gripping, addictive novel with a twist that will leave you breathless - Hannah McKinnon Mary - Страница 19

NOW ABBY

AFTER CLOSING THE front door behind me I cast a surreptitious glance toward Liam’s house, hoping he was outside and I’d catch a glimpse. Seconds later I cursed myself for thinking about him again and got in Nate’s car before easing it out of the driveway, forcing myself to keep my eyes—and all of my thoughts—away from Liam and on the road.

A few minutes into my trip to the Funky Bombay restaurant my shoulders dropped. I switched on the radio and hummed along to a tune that sounded suspiciously like what once had been Sarah’s favorite boy band, but whose name I could never remember. I grinned and thought I’d better not tell her or she’d make fun of me until Christmas, chastising me for never knowing what was and, more important, what wasn’t trendy.

The band had lost its prime position on Sarah’s bedroom wall years ago, replaced by some young actor who sported a curly mop of long, dark hair and a sullen expression. I told Sarah I thought he was smokin’, and she’d looked at me with wide eyes until I’d laughed, saying at her age I used to think my mum was dead from the neck down. Although in my mother’s case it might actually have been true.

Sarah and I had been getting along far better the past couple of days, especially after she’d let slip what she thought of Zac.

“Honestly, Mum,” she said Monday after school, “he’s an idiot. You should have seen the way he looked at me on Saturday. Really, he’s, like, a total douche.”

Normally I might have said, “So is he like a total douche or is he a total douche?” But instead of making a snide remark about her grammar I tried not to punch the air. “Sounds like you weren’t impressed.” I crossed my fingers and hoped she’d keep talking.

She did. “I mean, he’s okay-looking...”

My heart sank a little. “Even with the fluffy brown hair and caramel highlights?”

“I know.” She tutted. “Highlights, but they looked good. And I’m pretty sure every single supermodel in the world would kill for his cheekbones, and that he can stuff his face with five slices of pizza and be that fit.”

“Five?”

“Uh-huh. I counted. God, if I ate that much my bum would be bigger than Wales.” She exhaled deeply. “Anyway, so he’s, like, on his third slice already and I comment on his T-shirt. He had that Call of Duty one, you know?” I shook my head and Sarah continued, “Anyway, I said it was cool...”

“Let me guess, he didn’t like the compliment?”

“Hah. Worse. He goes, Yeah, it’s a game. Like, duh. So I roll my eyes and say, I know. I play loads of games. And do you know what he said? He said he meant video games. Not board games. Can you believe it? God, like I bet he was picturing me playing Detective Barbie or Clue or something. And he made wide eyes at me, too.”

I tried not to laugh. “So, what did you say?”

She sniffed. “That being a girl and liking fashion and video games aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Good comeback.”

“I know, right? I said Dad practically raised me on Tomb Raider. Told him I dressed up as Lara Croft for years.” She laughed. “Remember the rucksack I filled with Medipacks we made from empty toilet rolls? I spent hours with that thing strapped to my back upside down, running around the garden with water pistols.”

I smiled as I recalled the memory, a time when things had been so much easier between us. “And you won best Halloween costume at school.”

“Twice.” Her smile disappeared all too quickly and was replaced with a frown. “Seriously, Zac’s such an idiot.”

“He definitely sounds arrogant,” I said, making sure to tread carefully. “And just because he lives next door doesn’t mean you have to have anything to do with him.”

She crossed her arms. “I couldn’t care less if I never see him again. Him living next door will have nugatory effects on my life.”

“Nugatory?”

“It means trifling, inconsequential,” she said proudly. “I got it from that Word of the Day calendar you gave me.”

After that, she asked me for advice on her homework. And when she read her presentation out to me, her eyes and voice eager for praise, I gave it to her by the bucket load. She was probably wondering about the source of my continually sprightly mood, and, knowing the somewhat cynical view of the world I’d bestowed on my daughter, she maybe even speculated I had a bag full of uppers.

I sighed. Now that I’d driven far away enough from home I could admit the truth to myself. The past few days had been hell. At first I’d been in a state of panic after seeing Liam on Saturday, then it had given way to curiosity, which was worse because everyone knows the saying about what it did to the cat.

For the past three mornings, I’d either left even earlier than usual, or made sure Liam’s car was gone before I ventured outside. As soon as I got home Monday evening, I’d tidied up the garage so I could park my car in there, avoiding a chance encounter. When I saw him again it had to be on my terms. I wanted—no, needed—to be prepared.

Of course, I knew my attempt of grabbing the upper hand was window dressing. I reasoned if I was able to control my actions, then maybe I’d become master of my thoughts, too. I’d hardly stopped thinking about him. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he thinking about me? About us? What would he say the next time I saw him? Because, inevitably, there would be a next time.

At night I lay in bed awake, wondering if he was making love to Nancy, and it made my stomach churn. I imagined his lips and fingers gliding over her skin and her silky soft curves, the memory of me a transparent ghost floating somewhere at the back of his mind, whispering to him, demanding attention yet remaining entirely ignored. Then again, maybe while he was thrusting into her he imagined she was me. Like I did when I was with Nate.

The surprised expression on my husband’s face when I’d walked down the stairs in my new underwear a while earlier had quickly given way to a look of utter devotion. It almost made me rush back to the bedroom and pull my clothes on. But it wasn’t cheating, not technically. And I wanted...well, not Nate, not exactly, but I needed to feel his desire for me, both physical and otherwise, so I could keep pretending it was enough.

That it had ever been enough.