Page 80 of From London, With Love

Chapter 33

Carter

My fork is loaded with my last mouthful when my mother speaks. “Should we be concerned that none of you ever bring anyone to family dinners?”

Here we go.

It has been a while since this topic of conversation has come up at one of our dinners, so I really shouldn’t be surprised it's being brought up now. Whatdoessurprise me is Mum waited until the end of the meal; Diana Lawrence doesn’t beat around the bush.

In my siblings and my defence, the last person to bring someone to a family dinner was Teddy, but that was many years ago now and admittedly didn’t end well.

I make a point of saying nothing, intent on enjoying the remaining mouthful of my dinner, when I feel my sister’s eyes on me. Looking up, I see her giving me a pointed look from across the table. “Don’t,” is all I say in response, my voice low in the hopes only Emmy hears. Unfortunately for me, our mother has ears like a bat. Sheperks up, clasping her hands together with a big grin on her face.

“What’s that, my dear?”?

“Nothing Mother, I was just speaking to Emmy.”

“Don’t be shy, Cart,” Emmy interjects, far too pleased with herself.

Our mother’s head swivels between us like she’s watching Wimbledon. I reach a hand across the table, grasping one of hers and giving it a squeeze. “I assure you, if there was someone in the picture, you’d know about it.” I ignore the small twitch in my cheek as I speak, but my mother is far too observant.

“Okay sweetheart, if you say so.” She gives me a wink and pats the hand encasing hers. Her words might say she believes me, but those two gestures say the complete opposite. One look in my father’s direction says he’s thinking exactly what she is: they don’t buy it one bit.?

But he isn’t looking at me; he’s grinning like an idiot at my mother. I turn back to her, and she puts her chin to her shoulder, stifling something like a giggle.What am I missing here??

“Sorry Di, I promise I tried to stay out of it, sweetheart.”

“Oh I doubt that very much, Freddie. You’ve always been a meddler.”?

My father winks in response, and a lightbulb comes to life in my head. I know exactly what he’s referring to: Lara. What the hell has he told Mum about her? Does he have something else up his sleeve? What does he know?

Fuck. Me.

I refuse to have this conversation.

Clearing my throat, I let go of Mum’s hand and raise my wine glass. “I’m going to get a refill. Would anyone else care for one?” My family's responses ring out almost simultaneously.?

“Yes please, darling.”

“Thanks, Son.”?

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll help you, Cart.”

Emmy is out of her chair and on her way to the kitchen before I can decline her offer. She corners me the moment I step foot into the large space.

“It must be so inconvenient having that little cheek twitch when you’re not telling the truth.” I reach for the door to the wine fridge, but Emmy blocks my path with her body. I place my hands on her shoulders and gently push her to the side.

“Why would you get Mum’s hopes up when you know damn well there’s nobody in the picture?”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Her tone is off. The way she throws the words at me like a weapon is so unlike her. Emmy tilts her head to one side and pops that shoulder up, the picture of smugness.

I’m momentarily stumped—didLarasay something?—before the obvious answer smacks me in the face. Undoubtedly, it came from Teddy.Wanker.Normally I can talk to my brother about things and know without a doubt it’ll stay between us, but apparently that sentiment doesn’t extend to conversations about women. Or more specifically,Lara.

“Oh, he’s going to get it.”

“Sounds an awful lot like he’s right.”

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