Page 54 of The Allotment on Willow Tree Lane

It was time he told Ceri the truth.

Ceri watched Damon leave the table, worry niggling at her. She had no idea what Mrs Moxley had said to upset him – unless it was talking about his gran.

With one eye on the door leading to the loos, she carried on a desultory conversation with Mrs Moxley, not really listening to what the elderly woman was saying, and when she saw him emerge, she noticed that his jaw was clenched and he looked tense.

When he jerked his head towards the exit, Ceri made her excuses.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as soon as they were outside.

‘We need to talk. Do you mind if we take a walk?’

Someone saying ‘we need to talk’ was never a good sign, especially when those words were uttered by the person you were in a relationship with. Taking hold of his arm, she made him stop and turn to face her. ‘What is it?’

‘Not here.’

The pain in his eyes made her flinch. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

Ceri was so focused on Damon that when a large white SUV slowed to a crawl alongside them, it took her a second to notice.

‘Damon! Over here.Damon!’

His head shot up, a shocked expression on his face. Ceri thought she saw a hint of fear in it, too, but she must have imagined it, because he immediately broke into a beaming grin and headed for the car and the woman who was leaning out of the driver’s window. She had her arms outstretched and was making ‘come here’ gestures.

In three strides, Damon reached the vehicle and the woman’s arms wrapped around his neck. Ceri didn’t think they were actually kissing, but they were certainly pleased to see each other.

Awkwardly, she remained where she was, wondering what to do. Who was this woman, and what was she to Damon? She clearly knew him well, because she had clambered out of the car and was now throwing herself at him again.

In her mid-twenties, with long blond hair tumbling to her waist, she was dressed in grey faded skinny jeans and a cropped black T-shirt with a logo splashed across it which showed off her washboard stomach. One arm sported a full sleeve of tattoos, the other was festooned with black leather straps and armbands. Her makeup was skilfully applied, although heavier and darker than Ceri favoured (if she bothered to wear any at all) and to complete the picture, the woman wore scuffed black calf-length boots, despite the warmth of the evening.

She looked amazing and Ceri felt drab and ordinary in comparison.

Finally they parted, and as Damon stepped back Ceri realised that he must have forgotten all about her, because when he glanced over his shoulder his expression closed in as he noticed her hovering awkwardly on the pavement.

‘Don’t worry, I’m going,’ she muttered, a lump forming in her throat and her eyes stinging. She couldn’t believe she had been so gullible. Ofcoursea man like Damon would have a girlfriend.

The girlfriend was gazing at her curiously. ‘Who’s this?’ she asked him.

‘Er, Ceri.’ It was little more than a mutter. Damon was obviously embarrassed. And so he should be.

‘Ceri? Hi.’ The woman stepped forward and held out her hand.

Ceri stared at it, then good manners kicked in and she shook it.

‘I’m Sadie, Aiden’s sister.’ The woman swallowed and dropped her gaze to the pavement.

Ceri had no idea who Aiden was and neither did she care. But she had a fair idea who Sadie might be, though, and she felt sick to think that he was in a relationship. She shook her head in disbelief, the pain of his betrayal stabbing her in the solar plexus.

Sadie’s eyes shot to Damon, then back to Ceri. ‘Aiden… the bass player in Black Hyacinth?’ She looked at Damon again and said, ‘Don’t tell me she doesn’t know?’

Ceri found her voice. ‘Know what? That you two are an item? I think I’ve managed to work that out for myself.’

Damon glanced at Sadie, before turning back to Ceri. His expression was unreadable. ‘We are not an item.’

Ceri frowned. He sounded so emphatic that she wondered if she’d got it wrong. ‘What, then? What don’t I know?’

Damon caught his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked uncomfortable. ‘That was what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m, um, in a band.’

Sadie interjected, ‘He’s the lead singer in Black Hyacinth.’

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