Page 96 of Falling for You
I step past her, immediately hit by the warmth of her home and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla. She gestures for me to sit in the living room, and I opt for the same plush armchair I sat in before.
‘Coffee?’ she offers. ‘Tea?’
I’m about to refuse when I feel a pang of guilt. I don’t want to be rude to her. ‘Coffee would be great, thank you.’
She nods and walks into the kitchen, and I look round the living room. A large framed mirror sits on the mantelpiece above a golden electric fire. The curtains are dark green and a thick, heavy velvet and the ceiling is swirled like the top of a cupcake. I hear footsteps and look up, expecting to see Aunt Tell holding a tray, when instead I see …
‘Remy?’ I gape, getting to my feet. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Hello, bud.’ Remy gives a sheepish smile. ‘How are you doing?’ We slap hands and give each other a quick hug. ‘I’ll get out of your hair,’ he says, looking at the kitchen as Aunt Tell reappears. ‘But let’s go for a pint soon.’
He nods at me and gives Aunt Tell a smile. Before I can ask any more questions, he’s slipped out of the room and I sink back into my armchair. Aunt Tell puts a floral tray down on the coffee table and sits opposite me.
‘He’s a fine man,’ she muses and I try not to frown.
Remy, you old dog.
We sit in silence for a moment and I will myself not to speak. Eventually, Aunt Tell sighs. ‘Well, Nathaniel, I think I owe you an apology.’
I’m about to blurt that she owes Mom an apology, not me, but I stop myself.
‘I did receive your messages, but even before then, I knew your mom wasn’t well. Your dad had reached out to me a few years ago.’
My head dips. She’s known for years?
‘And I am sorry I didn’t reply. That was wrong of me.’ I wait for her to continue, but she stops, taking a sip of her coffee. It seems her apology has finished.
‘Right …’ I say. ‘So, are you going to come back and see Mom?’
She shakes her head. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘Why not?’ I demand. ‘It isn’t like you can’t afford it. Iknow you’re in a show right now, but when it finishes? It doesn’t have to be Christmas. It—’
‘Nate,’ she says softly, ‘I won’t be going to see her.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t want to.’
My coffee cup starts to shake in my hands.
‘I love your mom,’ she says slowly. ‘She’s my best friend, and I’d like to keep her in my mind how she’s always been. Not how she is now.’ My mouth falls open. ‘You may think that’s selfish,’ she continues, reading my mind. ‘But it is my choice.’
‘Even though you know it will make her really happy to see you? Even though she’s asked for you?’ I say, my voice shaking.
She looks out through the window and I feel a wall go up between us. I get to my feet. ‘Right,’ I say. ‘Fine. Sorry I bothered you.’
I walk straight out of the door and back onto the chilly street, the words that have been swirling round my brain now hammering at my heart.
Why did I even bother coming to London?
I push my way into the flat. The icy rain has seeped through my jacket, clinging to my curly hair and running over my face. I’ve been in London for over a month now, and I still don’t remember to take an umbrella anywhere.
‘Hey Nate?’
I hear Stevie’s voice from the living room. We’ve barelyspoken since our fight, but as soon as I see him I am overtaken by a feeling of needing to protect my younger brother. He’s sitting on the sofa, and I wrap my arms around his neck from behind and give him a squeeze. He pats my arm non-committally.
‘You all right?’ he asks. ‘What’s going on?’
