He did his best to distract her at those moments.
And she amazed him there, too. When she wasn’t being professional Violet, organising the Benefit almost from the ground up again, or family Violet, taking care of her distraught parents and pregnant sister, or even community Violet, fending off well-meaning locals who came with flowers or food. When she could just be his Violet, alone in the dark, letting him see the heart of her. As if Jez’s death had torn down the last of her barriers and given him a clear path in to the real Violet.
They’d never really had The Talk—the one about their future and what they both expected out of this relationship, if it even was a relationship. But somehow, Tom felt, they didn’t need to. They’d instinctively moved past that, to an understanding that this was what it was—and it was what they both needed right now. They mattered to each other, and the world was easier with each other in it. That was all Tom cared about.
‘Okay, so what’s left?’ Violet asked, tapping her pen against her notepad as she frowned down at her list.
Tom refrained from pointing out that she was the one with the checklist in front of her. Instead, he moved behind her, rubbing her shoulders firmly as he looked down at the lines after lines of her handwriting, all with tiny check boxes beside them.
‘Well, most of the stuff that needed printing—the new signs and programmes and stuff—that’s all taken care of,’ he said, assessing the ticks in the check boxes. ‘And we’ve spoken to every act and sponsor and media partner between us, so they all know the score.’
‘And they’re all on board,’ Violet added, a hint of amazement in her voice. As if she couldn’t believe that she’d actually talked them all into it.
‘With your incredible persuasive sell? Of course they are.’ Tom dug his fingers into a particularly tight knot in her back. ‘The riders for all the acts are sorted—even Olivia’s. And all the technical stuff is more or less unchanged. The new wristbands and such are en route, ready to hand out to the vendors when they arrive, to sell alongside everything else. What else is there?’
Violet’s shoulders stiffened, beyond the power of his fingers to relax them. ‘The headline act.’
‘Apart from that.’ Tom let out a long breath and moved his hands to just rest against Violet’s skin, a reminder that he was there, that he wanted to help. ‘Have you spoken to your dad yet?’
‘Not about this,’ Violet said. ‘About the funeral arrangements, about the good old days, about the clinic, about what he’d have done to help if Jez had just come to him... But not a word on if The Screaming Lemons are planning to perform at the Benefit Concert.’
‘He hasn’t spoken to any of the rest of the band either,’ Tom confirmed. ‘Jonny actually asked me yesterday if I knew what was going on.’
‘I need to ask him.’ Violet put down her pen, obviously not willing to add this action to the list. ‘If he wants to play...we need to get in another guitarist. They’ve worked with some great session musicians over the years...’
‘Actually,’ Tom said, the word out before he’d even completed the thought, let alone decided if it was a good idea, ‘I might know someone. Someone I think your dad would approve of.’
Violet turned in her seat, twisting under his hands until she was almost in his arms. ‘Really? Who?’
Tom shook his head. He didn’t want to get her hopes up if it didn’t work out. ‘Look, you talk to your dad first. If he says he wants to go on...I’ll make some calls.’
‘Okay.’ She gave him the sad half smile he’d grown too used to seeing over the past few days. ‘Thank you, Tom. For everything you’ve done this week. I know this wasn’t exactly what you came to Huntingdon Hall for.’
‘Neither was this.’ He dipped his head to press a kiss against her lips. ‘And I wouldn’t give us up for the world.’
A faint pink blush spread across her cheeks. Was that a step too far? Too close to the ‘talking about things’ line they weren’t crossing? Because if there was one thing Tom had realised over the last couple of days, it was that he wanted to talk about things between them. He wanted to put a name on their relationship.
He wanted to tell her he had fallen in love with her.
But now wasn’t the time. After the Benefit, once things had calmed down, and once Rose was back and her family was a little more stable again. They had time. He just had to pick the right one.
Love, it turned out, was worth waiting for.
‘I mean it, Tom.’ Violet’s expression turned serious. ‘You came here for a tell-all book, the exclusive stories that would make your name. And here you are, in the middle of the biggest story to hit the Lemons in thirty years, and you’re spending all your time telling other reporters “no comment”. I know it can’t be easy for you—you’re a born journalist; we both know that. But you haven’t chased this story, haven’t exposed Dad’s grief. And I really, really appreciate that.’
Tom’s smile felt fake and forced. A born journalist. Was that what he’d always be to her? And, worse, was it true? ‘Of course I wouldn’t. I’m here for you right now—and not as a reporter. When your dad is ready to resume our interviews, fine. But for now...let’s just focus on the Benefit, yeah?’
Violet nodded. ‘Are you still coming with me to the airport to fetch Rose and Will this afternoon?’ The honeymooning pair had ended up having to take three separate flights over thirty-six hours to get home just one day earlier than planned, but Rose had insisted on doing it anyway.
‘I’ll be there,’ Tom promised. ‘I’ll meet you at the front door at two, yeah?’
‘Okay.’ Violet leant up and pressed a kiss to his mouth. ‘And, in the meantime, I need to go talk to Dad.’
‘You do.’ Neither of them were admitting it, but if the Lemons didn’t play at the concert, the Benefit would lose a lot of impact. Yes, people might understand Rick’s reluctance to get back on stage so soon after Jez’s death, might even respect it. But without Rick Cross on stage, the Huntingdon Hall Benefit would just be another concert. And Violet, Tom knew, wanted this year’s Benefit to be much, much more than that. She wanted to use it to change attitudes, to promote the availability of aid—for addicts and their friends and family.
She wanted to make a difference, and Tom honestly believed she might.
Plus, if there was anyone who could talk Rick Cross into anything, it had to be Violet.
‘Wish me luck,’ Violet said.
‘You don’t need it,’ Tom told her, but he kissed her again for luck anyway. Just in case.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
VIOLET JANGLED THE car keys in her hand, barely resisting the urge to tap her foot. Where was he? It was quarter past two and still no sign of Tom. She really had to leave to fetch Rose and Will—unless she wanted them grumpy and fed up after a thirty-six hour flight with no one there to meet them.
‘Any sign?’ Sherry appeared through the kitchen door.
Violet shook her head. ‘You haven’t seen him either?’
‘Afraid not. I checked the study again, and his room.’
‘Did you ask Dad?’ Violet asked, then regretted it when Sherry’s face turned a little grey. Rick hadn’t been in the best mood after Violet’s conversation with him that afternoon.
‘He’s shut himself away in the studio,’ Sherry said. ‘I thought it best to leave him for now.’
‘Yeah, I can understand that.’ Guilt knotted in her gut. She shouldn’t have pushed him, certainly not so soon. It was just that she was so desperate to make this year’s Benefit Concert more of a success than ever. For Uncle Jez.
‘Violet...’ Her mother paused, and Violet felt the knot in her stomach twist tighter.
‘I know what you’re going to say, Mum. Don’t worry. I’m not going to pester him again.’
But Sherry shook her head. ‘It’s not that. Sweetheart...we’re so proud of how you’ve stepped up these past few weeks. Taking over the Benefit, dealing with everything—even Tom being here.’ She gave Violet a sly smi
le. ‘Although I suspect that one wasn’t quite the hardship you imagined, right?’
‘Mum, I—’
‘Darling, I think it’s marvellous. He’s a great guy, and it was past time for you to find something worth coming out of hiding for. No, all I wanted to say was...I’m so proud of what you’re doing, turning this Benefit into a fitting memorial for your Uncle Jez, and a way to help others who might not know where to turn. It’s important work, and I know how much it took for you to do it.’
Violet’s eyes burned. ‘Thanks, Mum.’