Page 15 of The Version You Hide

“Please,” I almost plead. “I’m missing out on serious Netflix time.”

“Thanks again, girls,” Pamela says as she throws an arm around each of us. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mum,” Kristen replies, giving her mother a peck on the cheek.

“Have fun doing yoga,” I add awkwardly, offering a stiff wave.

I turn on my heel, caught off guard as Pamela’s arms reach around my shoulders, drawing me into her warmth. I’ve never been much of a hugger, but the scent of her floral perfume infiltrates my senses and I relax into her fleetingly.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she whispers. “You’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks.” I offer a small smile as I pull away and turn to follow Kristen down the front porch steps to her brand-new VW Golf.

When I say brand-new, I mean literally brand spanking new. As in, it still has plastic film over the dash. She only picked it up last week.

After her car had pretty much died a few months back, she’d been sharing Henley’s ute. But now that she has a fully-fledged job in a psychologist clinic, she was able to take out a loan.

Ben had of course gone along with her to the car yard to ensure she got a good deal and a safe car. He’d told me that when the time comes for me to get a new car, he’d offer me the same gesture. I’ve started saving, but at this rate I’ll be fifty-five by the time I can afford one. Lucky for me, this town is so small that all the places I need to go are in walking distance from each other. Maybe I could settle for a bike.

I know I told Kristen I wanted to get home to watch Netflix. The latest season of Outer Banks has just dropped, and I can’t wait to watch it, but after the week I’ve had, I suddenly feel that I need a different kind of release. I can almost hear my sketchbook calling out to me from here.

I climb into the passenger seat and fasten my seatbelt, staring out the windscreen ahead. I wait for Kristen to do the same, noticing the items Pamela discarded sitting on the front porch in my line of sight. The canvas and boxed easel stick up from the top of the pile and a thought crosses my mind.

I’ve only ever sketched with pencils and graphite, but maybe it’s time to broaden my horizons and experiment with paint. I unclick the seatbelt and open the door.

“What are you doing?” Kristen asks in surprise. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll just be a second,” I tell her. “Pop the boot.”

She squints in confusion but does what I say.

I march over to the stack and pull the canvas and easel out. I have to dig a little to find the paints and paintbrushes, but I get there in the end.

Maybe I’ll take these after all.

Chapter 5

DYLAN

“Hello, father.” I cradle my phone between my cheek and shoulder as I use one hand to open the skip bin and the other to throw in the bag of empty glass bottles. I glance around the tavern’s unoccupied courtyard, ensuring I’m alone.

This was the fourth time my dad had tried calling me this morning, and talking to him is really the last thing I want to be doing, but I know if I continue to ignore him, he’ll continue to call. I figured at some point I’d have to listen to his criticism. May as well just get it over with now.

“Dylan.” My father’s voice echoes sternly across the line. “How are things?”

I scoff under my breath and shake my head, knowing my father could care less about what I’m up to these days. “Things are great, Dad. How are things for you?”

“Why don’t we just cut through all the pleasantries,” he suggests curtly.

“Of course,” I say. “I’m sure you don’t want this conversation to take any longer than necessary. You are a busy man after all.”

I hear his exasperated sigh and I picture a hand coming up to his forehead, his fingers smoothing out the frown lines that have accumulated there from… well, too much frowning. “When are you going to come home?”

“I told you already, Dad. I am home.”

I’ve lost count now of how many times we’ve had this conversation. This push and pull routine is getting old.

He clears his throat loudly, a sign he’s becoming agitated. “We both know this is just another one of your little projects. It’s a phase. I don’t want you making decisions you’re just going to regret later.”

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