‘No. It’s not that. Truly. Of course my mum was upset when Jess died. But they weren’t close.’ Jess had always said Bea made her nervous and in truth Liam had wondered if Bea had known, had seen that their marriage wasn’t all it should be. After all, she had watched her own marriage disintegrate, perhaps she could see the signs. The idea had made him uncomfortable, had reinforced his decision to let Bea get on with her new life, protected from his problems. And Jess had seemed happy with that, happy for it to be ‘just the two of them’.
‘Then what is going on?’
‘What do you mean?’ He kept his voice even. ‘Nothing is going on.’ He tried to inject finality into his tone, but Ava shook her head.
‘Yes, there is. Otherwise why were you so tense earlier?’
‘I wasn’t. Apart from being a bit nervous—this is the first time we’ve “appeared” in public as a couple.’
‘I’m not buying that. You have nerves of steel.’ She raised her hands up. ‘If you want to tell me to mind my own business do, but don’t lie to me.’
The words caused him to pause, swallow the words of denial that sprang to his lips. Dammit. He was lying. Irritation sparked inside him—this was exactly why he eschewed relationships. They became messy and complicated and he didn’t know the correct responses. But lying didn’t feel right and neither did the unvarnished truth. ‘Fine. I wasn’t nervous. We’re just not close.’
‘Why not?’ The words impacted the air, directed by a force he didn’t fully understand. ‘I don’t get it. Before I met them I thought maybe they weren’t very nice but they are nice. All of them.’
‘I know they are.’
‘Then what’s not to be close to?’ Her face was serious, a wistful look in her amber eyes. ‘You’re lucky. Your mum, John, Max. They are lovely, decent human beings. I don’t understand why you don’t embrace the chance to be part of it. To ask Max to come and do work experience with you. Go have a beer with John. A cocktail with your mum. Celebrate Christmas with them all.’ He heard frustration, almost anger in the vibrancy of her voice and he stopped in his tracks.
Ava stopped too, turned to him and he studied her face. ‘Why does this matter so much to you?’
Now those amber eyes blazed at him. ‘Because I’m angry that you’re being so stupid. That you’re wasting a chance to have a family. When I would do anything to have that opportunity. All my life I wanted siblings, real siblings, not a shadowy, furtive half-family I wasn’t allowed to meet. I wanted a mum who I could be close to, laugh with, shop with, confide in. What I do have now are two half-siblings who won’t even speak to me. And a mum who is furious with me. And you have this lovely family you are refusing to be part of.’
Understanding hit him; he heard the pain that underlaid her words, could see it in the way she turned away from him, tried to hide her expression. ‘I’m sorry.’ The words were wholly inadequate and they both knew it. ‘I didn’t realise.’ Had always assumed the Cassevetis were a close, happy family.
‘There is no reason why you should.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘It doesn’t work like that. You don’t get to hold back and not talk about your family stuff, whilst I discuss mine.’
‘That’s not how I meant it.’ God. He really did suck at this. ‘I just thought talking about it may help.’ He stared at her as the penny dropped. Presumably that was exactly how Ava felt too. She wanted to help him. The idea was startling in its novelty. And suddenly he did get it, knew that he wanted Ava to understand that he wasn’t blithely refusing something she wanted so much. ‘Shall we sit down and I’ll try and explain?’
Ava shook her head. ‘Hell. Now I feel like I’ve forced you into this.’
‘You haven’t. Truly.’ She sat down next to him. ‘You’re right. My mum, John, Max...they are all lovely people and they are a happy family, a happy family unit. They don’t need me to be part of it.’
‘It’s not about need. You could choose to be part of that happy family unit. You would be welcomed in.’
‘It isn’t that clear-cut. There’s history.’ He wanted Ava to know that she wasn’t alone, that the past had thrown its shadow over his family as well. ‘You know that my parents’ marriage disintegrated.’
Ava nodded.
‘Well, at the time I didn’t know or fully understand what was going on, didn’t realise how cruel a thing alcohol abuse is, how it changes a person. All I saw as a child was my mum trying to get my dad to stop drinking—she wanted him to “be a man”, pull himself out of the pit of self-pity he was wallowing in. The problem was, the less sympathetic she was, the more he tried to convince her the blame was all your father’s and the more bitter he got. And as Dolci really took off it got worse and worse. My mum kept telling him to let it go and he just couldn’t.’
Ava’s amber eyes focused on his face and he sensed how intensely she was listening to him. ‘And the more you must have felt in the middle.’
‘I wasn’t as fair as that. I landed on my dad’s side.’
‘Because that way you didn’t have to give up believing in him,’ she said softly. And with such understanding he knew she truly empathised. Knew how hard she had worked at believing in her dad.
‘Yes, but that meant I blamed my mother for not being supportive enough, not being loving or understanding enough.’ He shook his head. ‘What I couldn’t see was everything she was doing. All the extra shifts, all the worries about not being able to pay the bills, and all the while having to deal with the demands of living with an alcoholic. But she always got on with it. There was food on the table, and she still made me do my homework. But my dad, he let me do whatever I wanted.’
‘You were a child—a child doesn’t understand the responsibilities of bills to pay or adult emotions. You just wanted everything to be OK, for your parents to be happy again.’
The sympathy in her eyes shivered discomfort down him. Little did Ava know how instrumental he’d been in his mother’s unhappiness. He rubbed the back of his neck, knew he needed, wanted to tell her. ‘Perhaps. But it didn’t work out like that. Instead my mum met John when I was twelve. They fell in love.’ Ava’s eyes didn’t move from his face, her whole being focused on him. ‘She wanted to take me and leave Dad.’
‘What happened?’