The Truth About You (3 page)

‘Sorry about that,’ Lainey said, putting the phone down and typing a quick message to herself into the laptop she kept in the kitchen. ‘Is Dad drinking his tea?’

‘Yes, he’s doing very well, aren’t you?’ Stacy replied, guiding the cup Peter was holding back to his mouth.

‘Oh, who’s that now?’ Lainey grumbled as the phone rang again. ‘Hello, Bannerleigh Cross.’

‘Lainey, it’s me, Sarah,’ her middle sister announced sweetly. ‘Is this a good time?’

‘As good as any,’ Lainey told her, turning to Stacy as she went on, ‘What can I do for you, Sarah?’

Stacy’s eyebrows rose.

‘I thought I’d come and see Dad,’ Sarah replied. ‘Would tomorrow be convenient?’

Expressing no surprise, Lainey opened up her calendar, though she had no need to. ‘Actually, he has swimming in the morning,’ she said, ‘but you could always take him, if you’re free.’

Sarah was immediately hesitant. ‘I’m not good with things like that,’ she protested weakly. ‘Perhaps we could do the afternoon?’

‘Friday would be better, if you could manage that,’ Lainey suggested. ‘Why don’t you come for lunch?’

‘OK, if you’re sure it’s no trouble. I’ll be there around twelve. Esther might come too,’ she added, referring to their younger sister. ‘I’ll give her a ring and let you know.’

‘That’ll be lovely,’ Lainey assured her. ‘I haven’t seen either of you for ages, so I’m already looking forward to it.’

Stacy was eyeing her sceptically as she put the phone down. ‘So what pricked her conscience, one has to ask?’ she commented. ‘How long is it since she was last here?’

Lainey shrugged. ‘A couple of months, maybe longer, and knowing her she’ll cancel before Friday anyway.’

With a sigh, Stacy said, ‘You know, what beats me is how they can opt out and let you take everything on yourself, when they’re his
biological
daughters, for God’s sake.’

Lainey’s eyes clouded. She didn’t much like to be reminded that Peter wasn’t her natural father, when no father could ever have loved her more. ‘He adopted me when I was four years old,’ she said quietly, ‘so I’m every bit as duty bound to take care of him as my sisters are. Perhaps more so, considering how much he’s given me over the years.’ It was true, he’d never made her feel as though she mattered any less than the others; in many ways he’d seemed to go out of his way to make her feel the most special of all, which she guessed was a large part of why she and her sisters had never really been close. Of course, her mother hadn’t helped, the way she’d so blatantly favoured the other two. This was very probably why Peter had always given her so much attention, to try and make up for it.

‘I understand how you feel,’ Stacy said softly, ‘but they really ought to do more to help. It’s not as though they live a million miles away, Cheltenham’s only up the road, and they’ve both got cars and . . .’

‘. . . busy lives,’ Lainey came in quickly, ‘and to be honest, I’m quite glad they don’t come more than they do. We always end up in some sort of a row, and as soon as we start laying into each other I swear I can hear my mother cheering them on from the grave.’

‘It would be completely typical of the old bat to do just that,’ Stacy muttered, her dislike of Alessandra being no secret between them. ‘Even though it was you who nursed her the entire time she was ill. You never let her down, not once, you even moved here, bought this house so you could take her for all her treatments, be there to deal with the aftermath, cope with her pain and temper . . .’

‘Stace . . .’

‘And where were your sisters for all that time?’ Stacy pressed on forcefully. ‘Bloody nowhere, that’s where they were. If they managed to visit more than twice a month then it’s more than I ever heard about, and I know they didn’t come, because I was here myself.’

Lainey sighed wearily and came to dab the drool from Peter’s lips. How much of all this was he managing to take in, she wondered? Almost nothing, from the look of him, and though she was thankful for it, she could hardly bear how much she missed him.

Realising she’d probably gone too far, as usual, Stacy said, ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant, and I know things got better between you and your mother towards the end, but honest to God your sisters don’t even begin to understand how much hurt they’ve caused you, and for your mother to have died without telling you . . .’

‘Let’s leave it now,’ Lainey interrupted quietly. ‘We can’t assume Dad doesn’t know what we’re saying, and if he does it’ll only upset him.’

Stacy immediately backed off, and wishing she was better at thinking before speaking, she took Peter’s cup round the bar to the sink.

‘Would you like to stay in the chair for your nap today?’ Lainey asked Peter, holding on to both his hands.

His eyes came to hers and recognising her, he said, ‘Lainey. How are you, my love?’

‘I’m fine,’ she assured him.

‘Where’s your mother?’

‘She’s gone for a little lie-down.’

‘Oh, that’s good. I expect she’s tired after all that . . . business.’

‘Yes, she is. And I expect you are too, so would you like a little zizz now?’

‘Mm, yes I think so. I’m not in your way, am I?’

‘Of course not. You’re never in the way.’

‘Are the children home yet?’

‘No, I’ll be picking them up in a minute. Stacy’s going to stay with you while I’m gone.’

‘Oh, that’s nice. What time are we catching the train?’

‘I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know when I come back.’

Seeming satisfied with that, he squeezed her hands and closed his eyes in a way that showed he’d had enough for now.

‘I guess there’s no train,’ Stacy said, as Lainey came round the bar to join her.

Lainey shook her head. ‘But I do have to pick the kids up, so is it OK to stay with him? I mean, he should be all right on his own, but I’m worried he might try to cook or . . .’

‘Of course I’ll stay,’ Stacy broke in. ‘You don’t even have to ask.’

Lainey smiled. ‘What would I do without you? Oh, I remember, sink without trace!’ Her eyes started to sparkle. ‘Before I go I just have to tell you what I’ve done.’

Mirroring the sparkle, Stacy said, ‘I knew there was something going on with you. So come on, spill.’

‘I’ve actually booked it,’ Lainey declared.

Stacy frowned.

‘The villa,’ Lainey cried laughingly. ‘In Italy. We’ve got it for the entire month, from mid-July to mid-August while I go in search of my roots. The children are going to be so excited when I tell them. They’re dying to go, and now . . .’ She broke off as something smashed out in the hall. Throwing a curious, alarmed look at Stacy, she went to the door and quickly yanked it open.

It was no surprise to find Max standing over the shattered pieces of an antique vase, though she hadn’t expected to find her bag in his hands.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, going to take the bag from him.

‘It was an accident!’ he cried. ‘I was just picking it up. Like there’s a crime in that?’

‘I’ll get a dustpan and brush,’ she said, glancing meaningfully at the bone-china fragments.

‘Don’t tell me, it’s worth a fortune,’ he sneered, clearly trying to mask his concern. ‘It has to be, because everything’s valuable around here in the
capitalist’s
paradise.’

Lainey stared directly into his moody dark eyes. Handsome he might be, but when, she wondered, had he last shaved, or washed his shaggy fair hair? His clothes were hanging limply from his gangly limbs, and the smell of beer and tobacco was all over him. ‘If you don’t like the capitalist’s house,’ she responded smoothly, ‘you don’t have to stay,’ and turning on her heel she started back to the kitchen.

‘I wonder what
Tom
would have to say if I told him you were trying to throw me out,’ he called after her.

I’m not trying to throw you out, I’m just trying to make you grow up
, she wanted to shout back, but she knew better than to get into a tussle with him when he wasn’t quite sober. Instead she rolled her eyes at Stacy as she picked up the dustpan and took it back to him.

‘Dream on,’ he snarled, and turning around he went back through the door he’d emerged from. Apparently his inner demons had laid full claim to his charm today.

After clearing up the mess herself, she emptied the pieces into a bag and stored it under the sink just in case she decided to show it to Tom. She knew she probably wouldn’t, since she hated it when those two went at each other. However, she wasn’t prepared simply to dismiss it right away. Something had to be done about Max’s manner, particularly the way he seemed to have turned his anger on her lately. She’d just have to try and work it out at another time.

‘I don’t know how you put up with him,’ Stacy muttered, as Lainey unhooked her keys from the board next to the back door.

‘Nor do I,’ Lainey responded, ‘but, to be honest, I’ve got other things to worry about right now, like my darling daughter and what sort of mood
she’s
going to be in when I get her. Make yourself at home, or take another look at the villa. You’ll find the link somewhere in my inbox. It’s so gorgeous. We’re going to love it there.’

‘We?’

‘You’re coming too, I hope.’

Visibly brightening, Stacy said, ‘Count me in, provided it’s all right with Tom, of course.’

‘He won’t mind. Anyway, knowing him he’ll write the whole time we’re there, which is the reason I’ve gone for somewhere with a separate apartment that he can have all to himself. Besides, it’s my treat. I’ve been saving up for this so I can spoil you all rotten while I go in search of who I might have been if my mother had stayed in Italy.’

Stacy cocked an eyebrow. ‘So I take it you’ve gone for the villa in . . . what’s the name of the place again?’

‘Tuoro. Actually, it’s just outside the village, up on a hill. Take a look. It’s stunning. Bye Dad, won’t be long. Try to behave while I’m gone.’

Smiling at Peter’s peacefully sleeping face, Stacy wandered over to the computer as Lainey ran out to the car. A few moments later she was clicking through to the villa that overlooked Lake Trasimeno and the village where Lainey’s mother had apparently grown up. Perhaps her real father, too. Members of her family might even still live there. Clearly that was what Lainey was hoping to find out, and Stacy was happy to help, even though, in Stacy’s humble opinion, to go looking for people who’d never expressed a desire to be found might not be a brilliant idea.

However, Tom might disagree with her on that, and she could only presume he did or he surely wouldn’t be supporting the plan.

LAINEY WAS SITTING
in the car at the school gates, getting on with her emails while waiting for Tierney to come surging out with the crowds. Zav had just rung to remind her his football training had been swapped from tomorrow to today, so his friend Alfie’s mother would be bringing him home. Great, this would give her some extra time to pop into the supermarket on the way back, and to pick up the dry cleaning that had been ready for at least a fortnight by now. Remembering she still had to call the caterer with numbers for Saturday night’s dinner, she quickly dialled Tom’s mobile to find out if he’d invited anyone else since they’d last spoken.

‘Hi darling, hope the shoot’s going well,’ she said into his voicemail. ‘Call me back when you can. I need to talk about Saturday.’

Not long after she clicked off, he rang. ‘Hey, it’s me,’ he said, sounding tired and slightly scratchy. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine, but I don’t think you are. Problems your end?’

‘A few. Where are you?’

‘Waiting for Tierney. I had a long chat with Hugo earlier; we can discuss it when you’re back. Did you get my message?’

‘About Saturday? Yes, and apparently Guy can’t make it. He’s stuck in New York until early next week.’

‘But Nadia’s still coming?’ Lainey was fond of Tom’s agent, Nadia Roundtree, and would be sorry if she couldn’t make it just because her husband wasn’t around.

‘She is,’ he confirmed. ‘I said it’d be fine for her to stay the night. Do we have room?’

‘We’d have plenty if Max would find himself a job and move into a place of his own,’ she couldn’t help saying, ‘but I can’t see that happening any time soon.’

Sounding tired again, he said, ‘Definitely not before Saturday, but I’ll talk to him again. Please tell me he hasn’t been giving you a hard time.’

‘On and off, but nothing I can’t cope with. Zav wants to know if you’ll be back in time to watch him play football on Saturday.’

‘Yeah, he texted and I should be.’

‘Are you sure you’re all right? You sound pretty fed up.’

He sighed wearily. ‘I guess I am. It hasn’t been an easy week so far, and there isn’t much sign of it improving.’

‘Are you on the set now?’

‘No, but I ought to get back there. I’ll call again later.’

After he’d rung off Lainey sat watching the girls beginning to trickle, then stream out of the old Victorian schoolhouse, claret-coloured skirts rolled up at their waists as high as they dared, white V-neck shirts popped open at the buttons to reveal lacy bras.

Not quite Essex comes to Gloucestershire, but almost.

Spotting Tierney ambling along with her new best friend, Skye Andrews, all glossy dark hair and electric-blue eyes, Lainey felt her usual pang of concern at how much older than fifteen she looked. True, she was going to be sixteen in a couple of weeks, but her height – she was already as tall as Lainey at five foot eight – her attitude, and the shapeliness of her figure made her seem closer to twenty. Though Lainey felt certain she was still a virgin, she most certainly didn’t look like one, and she didn’t always behave like one either.

There was some small comfort to be taken from the fact that half the girls in year eleven appeared equally sassy, even the weekly boarders, such as Skye, who’d spent a couple of weekends at Bannerleigh Cross over the past month or so. Lainey had to admit she hadn’t particularly enjoyed the experience. Not that Skye was a difficult guest, to the contrary, she was always polite, helped out where she could, and as far as teenage attitude went, if she had one she clearly left it at the door before visiting friends’ homes. It was the way Tierney had showed off in front of her that had grated on Lainey, carrying on as though having a famous dad was a total drag, and that living in a big house was more of an embarrassment than a privilege. Needless to say, she never acted that way around Tom, she wouldn’t dare, and half the time Lainey was convinced she only did it in front of her to try and provoke a reaction. Lainey had learned not to rise to it, especially since discovering that Skye’s family home, in the centre of London, was easily the size of theirs, and was actually only one of several lavish properties her stepfather had dotted around the world.