Page 37 of A Kiss under the Stars
‘Oh.’ My heart gives a painful squeeze.
‘You know who it’s from?’ Liam looks puzzled by my response.
‘Possibly.’Who else would be writing to me here?
I get up and pick out the letter from the small pile.Recognising the handwriting,I draw in a deep breath and blow it outbitterly. ‘I thought so. It’s another begging letter from my dear departedmother,’ I say bitterly, throwing it onto the sofa and sitting back down. Mymouth is trembling so I clamp my lips together.
Liam puts his coffee mug on the floor. ‘You’ve had lettersfrom her before?’
I nod. ‘Two, to be precise, in the past couple of months.She’s written to Dylan as well, presumably the same old guff about how sorryshe is that she ruined our lives.’
‘I see,’ he murmurs. He looks at the letter lying between uson the sofa. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’
‘No, I’mnotgoing to bloody open it! Why should I?’My eyes flash angrily at him. ‘She buggered off and left us, and it’s totallyher fault that Dylan went off the rails. I canneverforgive her forthat. And now she’s doing it again. Spoiling what was a perfectly nice nightwith another stupid, grovelling letter!’
‘Sorry. If I’d known who it was from...’
‘Oh, it’s not your fault,’ I wail. ‘Ishould be theone saying sorry for jumping down your throat like that. It’s just...’
‘It’s hard. I know,’ he says gently. ‘I mean, Idon’tknow. Not really. I can only imagine.’
I look at him, my eyes burning with tears. ‘I tore up theother two letters but then I rescued them from the bin. I don’t even know why Idid that.’
‘Because you thought you might want to read them again? Oneday when you’re ready?’
‘Maybe. But there’s really nothing in them. Hardly anythingat all, which is weird considering what she did to us. How she left us withoutan explanation.’
‘Perhaps she couldn’t find the right words,’ he says softly.‘Maybe... maybe there are no words in the dictionary that canexplain why a mother would abandon her children?’
I frown at him. ‘You’re not excusing her, are you?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, of course not. No way. I think it’sappalling what happened to you. It’s amazing you’re as together as you are.’
A small smile escapes. ‘It’s clear you don’t know me verywell.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m extremely big on denial. If something bad happens, Ijust keep blocking it out, refusing to give the images any head space at all,until eventually, it’s forgotten altogether. Or it becomes so hazy a memorythat it’s almost bearable.’
He shrugs. ‘Well, that’s your way of coping with the horrorof your situation. It doesn’t mean you’re batshit crazy.’
I chuckle. ‘I suppose. Hey, have you ever thought of being acounsellor? You’d be great.’
He laughs at this. ‘I think counsellors are supposed to havetheir own head in order before they start work on other people.’
‘And you haven’t? Got your head in order?’
‘Well, not quite, but I’m getting there. For a long time Iwanted to be a singer. I applied forTheX Factorwhen I was inmy teens, convinced I’d be a star, and the inevitable rejection crushed mecompletely.’ He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t sing a note for a good five years,and then my Auntie Beth asked me to sing at her wedding. So after muchpersuasion on my mum’s part, I did and it was a real turning point. It feltlike coming home, singing to the crowd on that small hotel stage. And as aresult, I decided to apply to study music and singing.’
‘So you went down well at the wedding?’
He grins. ‘Of course I did. They were all pissed.’
I snort with laughter.
‘I’ve done quite a few weddings since then, all word ofmouth. The good thing about a wedding audience is that everyone’s happy and ina really good mood even before you get on stage. So then it’s a piece of caketo get them on your side. Happy days.’
I nod. ‘Happy days. Until your girlfriend turns up and findsyou in the back of your van with the mother of the bride.’
