Just Between Us Page 3

  My parents had separated mutually, but I had an idea that it had a lot to do with a woman that worked at my dad’s shop. He owned a party shop that sold balloons, banners, cakes, cake decorations, and everything you could possibly need for a party. He did well, and he worked long hours, and we were happy, or so I thought. Next thing I knew Dad, Winston King, had then moved out and into a small two-bed house around the corner.

  He was contented and didn’t seem to be dating anyone, but Mum had screamed the name Sheila at him a few times during the final weeks, which happened to be the name of his assistant at work. She was young, busty, and friendly enough. Mum dealt with everything with grace though, and the night they told me it was over, she took me for a ride in the country, and we sped down the tiny roads as she burned off steam. She turned the music up really loud, lots of Tina Turner and Cher.

  “Don’t ever depend on a man Sophie, always be you,” she had said.

  We learned to live as a twosome, and we took to it very well. I saw my dad a few nights a week, and he took me to dinner and the cinema on weekends, but I was too old for sleepovers. I liked my own bed and my own home, so I saw as much of him as he wanted, but he didn’t decorate a room at his house for me or anything like that. I didn’t need it.

  After six months of dating Mick took Mum and me out for dinner to a swanky restaurant, he talked a lot and Mum watched him adoringly. I hated it, he was exactly as I imagined Kyle’s father to be. He was flashy, loud with a huge ego, and extremely proud of his wealth. I told my mum such after that meal and she was hurt, I told her that he seemed like a womanising show-off, and she should watch out. She didn’t scream or shout or try to change my mind.

  “Just give him a chance, Sophie, I’m a good judge of character. Trust me.” She smiled.

  As the months progressed Mick actually became bearable, perhaps the night we first met he was nervous and trying to impress me. He never took us anywhere flashy again after that. We went out for something simple like burgers or pizza, or the pub where they’d have a few drinks, and I would drink coke and play on my hand-held Nintendo. He wasn’t as loud as first impressions had implied, and I began to like the little thoughtful gifts he’d buy my mum and even me. He made Mum happy, and that was all that mattered. He paid her attention and snuggled into her, something my dad never ever did. I began to accept this new man into my life. Mick Hanson was larger than life, standing 6 feet tall, beer belly bursting out of tailored shirts, always laughing and joking, and he knew everyone wherever we went.

  He and Kyle weren’t close. He had split from Kyle’s mum when Kyle was nine and had since been single, dating a few women until my beautiful mother just stuck. When he saw Kyle, Mum and I spent our weekends doing other things, and of course I saw my dad or my friends. After a year, Mick suggested that we go out as a foursome, and I was horrified. We both knew that our parents were dating, but because it was never once acknowledged at school I knew it would be awkward. He never gave me a knowing glance or even spoke to me. He was up there with the popular crowd, and I was a geek with frizzy, blonde hair. His hair was like black silk, and his skin always seemed to hold a slight tan. He was beautiful, unattainable, and I was definitely not worthy of his attention.

  Mick took us to an Italian restaurant. He picked Mum and me up from home in his black, BMW 5 Series. Kyle was already in the front, and so Mum and I climbed in the back. That set a precedent for the rest of the night where Kyle would behave like a spoilt brat, and his Dad would pander to his every whim. Both Mum and I were shocked, Kyle didn’t join in any of the conversation, he just sat with a surly look on his face and stared out of the window.

  “Kyle,” Mick ventured halfway through the meal, “please try and behave yourself.”

  “Why bother, you’ll have a new chick this time next month.”

  Mum almost choked on her wine, and I looked to my food. Mick was ready to explode.

  “Outside now,” he stormed off, and Kyle followed for a telling off outside the restaurant

  “Told you he was a brat,” I said as I continued to pick at my pizza. I had tried my best to tame my wayward blonde curls tonight and applied some make up sparingly.

  When they re-entered, Kyle was even quieter, and Mick huffed his way through the rest of the meal.

  They married shortly after this incident. It was a small, simple ceremony in the Lake District with a few friends, and of course Kyle and myself. He barely acknowledged me then, and we still didn’t speak at school. We were fifteen, I was awkward, and he was an arrogant arse. He didn’t tell my mum that she looked pretty or even buy them a card to celebrate, he was so used to being privileged that he lacked any humility.

  My mum was wealthy in her own right through her family textile business, her brother Colin was a banker in New York with no interest in the family business, and consequently she had inherited it and ran it seamlessly. She and Mick together were very well off and bought the big house in Lytham where I moved with them. Kyle visited every other weekend. His dad always took him out on weekends, golfing, go-carting or watching football at Old Trafford. Mick kept him away from us as he was so hostile. Still, it didn’t really help matters.

  When Kyle’s mum decided to move to Spain, he was devastated. I saw it in his eyes when he came to live with us, as Mick moved his stuff into his room.

  “Why do I have to share a bathroom?” he moaned as he unpacked.

  “Because the other rooms are taken.”

  “What that stupid gym? You don’t use it, fatty,” he spat.

  “Watch your mouth Kyle, that attitude better change or you can get to Spain with your bloody mother.” I knew Kyle wouldn’t want to leave. He was the hero at our school and had more followers than he could shake a stick at. However, from the outside it would appear that he had a fantastic life. He had wealthy parents lavishing his every whim, but I started to notice then that his parents weren’t that great. His mother had buggered off abroad, and Mick was giving up before he’d even started. Part of me started feeling sorry for him.

  Still, Kyle and I didn’t become friends, we didn’t speak at school, the most we did was share a lift in Mick’s shiny, black BMW. In the end it was my mother who started to make the difference. She brought some stability and routine to Kyle’s life, his mum had always had her own agenda, the gym, lunches with her friends, and drinks out. Kyle was last on her priority list. My mum listened to him, cared for him, and enjoyed it. She was interested in what he did and with whom he did it with, and she made sure that he always had clean clothes and good food. At home he remained quiet and surly, but I could tell pretty quickly that Mags had stolen his heart.

  We quickly settled into a pseudo-family routine. Kyle spent holidays with his mum at first, but he liked it there less and less, especially as we entered sixth form, and his social life really took off. I had two best friends, Ashley and Kathryn. We had been friends for years and had a group of our own that we partied with. They certainly weren’t the popular crowd that Kyle mixed with, but we had our fun. We experimented with make up, tarty dresses, hair straighteners, alcohol and boys, lots of them. I learned that my hair could be tamed, and that I wasn’t such a bad kisser. I didn’t have too bad a body and could rock a pretty mean Lycra dress when it was called for.

  Kyle and I had it pretty good, with our brand new cars, credit cards, clothes allowances and a fair amount of freedom. We had an amazing house, the party room was a great meeting place for our friends, which we used separately. Our parents didn’t mention that we weren’t friends or try to make us friends. They simply accepted us as we were. Separate entities. Kyle was still arrogant, but he seemed happier, and he even hugged my mum and Mick when the mood took him. He asked for their help when required, and he allowed them to look after him, a huge shift as far as they were concerned.

  The Easter before our final summer at home, before we left for University, Mick and Mum surprised us. We had finished most of our exams and only had a few to study for, and so they booked a t
en-day break in Cancun, Mexico. Kyle wasn’t visiting his mum until summer and for only two weeks, as he wanted to have a blast the last summer after school with his friends. I knew everything about him from mum as I’m sure he did about me, but we didn’t talk. We weren’t close, but I did garner the odd smile from him, and we did conspiratorially laugh at our parents sometimes.

  I often wondered if he didn’t consider me worthy of his friendship, or if, in fact, he hated me because he actually hated our situation. Mum had stolen his father and replaced his mother in his life, and I was happy with everything, whereas he couldn’t have been less content. He was angry with life and rightly so as his two parents didn’t seem to care very much how he felt

  Four – Just speaking

  Now

  “And what exactly can Kyle do down there that I can’t do here?” My mum whined as I nursed a hangover and packed my bags.

  “I need a change of scenery, Mum. Everything here reminds me of heartache, and my life here makes me miserable.”

  “Oh charming,” she huffed, sitting on the edge of my bed.

  “Look it’s not you or Mick or anything like that, it’s me, my life, and you two are better off without your crazy daughter moving home. You can go out to your hearts desire and not worry about me.”

  “I always worry about you, whether you’re living here or not, mothers always do.” She placed her hand on mine as I packed, and I let her lay it there.

  “It’s only for the summer. I’ll be back when school starts, and hopefully I’ll be better and refreshed, and I can bump into people who know us both without bursting into tears.”

  “What about your friends?”

  “Oh they’re all in couples, and I’ll be doing them a favour as well. No one wants to party like you’re single when you’re not.”

  “Sophie,” she said in a low voice. “You can’t run away from your problems and your life, you need to face up to it, make a new life for yourself here, without … him.”

  “You can say his name, Mum, Simon.” My eyes misted as I said it, but I turned to get more clothes. “I’m not running away. I’m taking a sabbatical that’s all.”

  “A sabbatical from your life? Is that possible?”

  “I think it’ll do me good.”

  “I’m not sure Kyle’s lifestyle is what you need right now.”

  “What … constant parties? Maid service and a pool in my building? Sounds like hell,” Kyle said, walking into the room.

  “She needs to heal Kyle, not replace misery with alcohol.” Mum sighed.

  “Good God, Mags what kind of life do you think I lead? I’m not Hugh Heffner! I work hard, I attend work parties to network with colleagues and clients, and I spend my days in the studio, at the gym, and in my office.”

  “Look, I’ve decided to get out of the house which should make you happy, Mum, and I’m willing to try and enjoy a summer in London. Can you both stop going on just in case I burst into tears and fall back into my bed?” I shook my head and closed my case.

  “Fine,” Mum said, springing up from the bed and plastering a fake smile on her face. “You two enjoy yourselves, and if you need me to, I can come and get you.”

  “I’m twenty eight and can get the train home, but I appreciate the offer.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Well you’ve been like my baby again this past month, it’s hard to keep up.”

  I smiled at her. I could see how this must appear. Kyle comes home and suddenly I’m a new woman. The month after Simon dumped me I was moping, wishing the time away so I could wallow in my bed watching movies and eating rubbish. However something had changed now that Kyle was back, it wasn’t him or even me, I still felt miserable, it was just hope. He’d dangled a carrot for me to leave the house, leave the embarrassment, and I had decided to take it. I may not enjoy myself, I may cry every day, but at least I wouldn’t be in my teenage bedroom wondering where it all went terribly wrong.

  Kyle saw the cases that I had already packed. He wore a snug T shirt and jeans, his sunglasses were on his head, pushed into his dark hair, and he smiled at me, which made me smile. He always managed to win everyone over with that God-damn smile. Maybe Kyle was exactly what I needed. He always had a knack of making you feel like the only person in the room when he wanted to, and if he could use his charm on me to make me feel better then I would let him. He picked up two cases with strong arms.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have much stuff.”

  “I don’t,” I shrugged, “this is nothing.”

  “Remind me not to offer to move the rest of it out of Dick Head’s house.” It was too soon for the joke, but he wasn’t to know. The pain of my things in that house and Simon still there struck me like a lightning bolt, but I smiled through it. My eyes felt misty, but I was determined not to cry. This had to be a new Sophie who was strong and could face new people in London who had no idea about her situation.

  I lugged the final case down the stairs and stopped to look at myself in the hallway mirror. I wore a light sundress that was covered in pink and yellow flowers. It hung off me. I was always slim, I had curves, but I wasn’t overweight, and now I looked gaunt. My bras were a little bit too big, and this dress seemed to drown me where last year it clung to me nicely. My hair that had been smooth yesterday was now tied messily on top of my head, my brown eyes looked sad, and I tried to lift them with a smile, but it didn’t work. I was sad. I still felt hung over, but that pain was manageable, and it helped to dull the pain of my broken heart, my broken life.

  “Come on,” Kyle said, bursting through the door and letting in the sunshine. “We need to get moving. I’ll treat you to a Maccy’s burger on our way out.”

  “Right.” I snapped out of my trance and went to find Mum. She was sitting on the patio with Mick. Mick looked up from his paper.

  “Now take care of her, son. She’s in a delicate condition.” He stood up to shake hands with Kyle and hug him.

  “I’m not pregnant or dying Mick, I’m not in any condition. I’m in mourning.”

  “Right,” He looked to Mum, and she plastered a smile on her face, widening her eyes for dramatic effect.

  “Well mourn away and try to get Simon out of your head so you can be my happy girl again.” She moved in to hug me, and then she hugged Kyle.

  “Right we better go and beat the traffic,” Kyle said.

  “Okay bye.” Mum hugged me again and squeezed me a little tighter.

  “I’m always at the other end of the phone.”

  “I know.” I nodded.

  We made our way out to Kyle’s black, convertible BMW M5. There wasn’t anymore room in the boot for my bags, so I had to squeeze one between my knees.

  “Still driving a Beemer then?” I asked.

  “They’re the best.” He winked at me.

  Old Times

  Mum and I were really excited for the holiday in Mexico, she took me shopping for new clothes, and we excitedly decided what trips we would go on when we got there. We bought books that we could share for the time away. Mick had organised for us to use a yacht that belonged to a friend of his for the day, and so we imagined how beautiful it would be out in the ocean, and that we would snorkel off the side.

  We started packing a week before we were due to leave, and Mick indulged us by counting down the days. Kyle was out a lot. He only had one exam left for when we got home and that was General Studies so he was no longer revising. Instead, he and his best friend, David Tripp, were cruising all over in Kyle’s car looking for parties and trouble. Mum wasn’t a fan of David and neither was I. Whenever he was in the house he always made a point of talking to me and trying to embarrass me, and Kyle would roll his eyes.

  “Leave the step alone,” he’d sigh, “come on Dave, let’s get out of here.”

  Kyle didn’t hide his disdain for me or our house. He acted as if he couldn’t wait to leave whereas for me it was my haven. Mick was a wonderful step-dad to me, and I wondered what Kyle found so insufferable about
him.

  We left for Mexico on a cold April day. We were all chatting excitedly in the taxi at four am, whereas Kyle sat brooding.

  “Leaving a girl behind?” Mick chuckled jokingly. “You need to cheer up; we’re off to paradise.”

  “Hardly.” Kyle sniffed and continued to stare out of the window.

  The ten-hour flight was manageable, there were plenty of films to watch, food to eat, and Mum and I got started on some of our books. I sat by the window. Mum was next to me, and Kyle sat in the row behind with Mick. Halfway through the flight I offered to swap so Mum and Mick could sit together and Mum asked was I sure, I nodded in agreement, and so we moved.

  Kyle turned away from me and fell asleep, so I got engrossed in a romantic comedy that I hadn’t seen before. When he woke we were almost there, so I smiled to him.

  “Nearly there.”

  He looked at me and noticed how close he had moved to me during his sleep. “If you wanted a cuddle you only had to ask,” he spat. I turned bright red and looked away from him. He really was an absolute idiot and this holiday was going to be ruined by his behaviour.

  We arrived at our amazing, five-star, all-inclusive resort. We were led from a huge marble entrance lobby to our rooms, on the same floor, but all separate. Mum and Mick first and Kyle and me on the end. I had a huge king-sized bed, mini fridge, and large en-suite bathroom to myself. The floors were an expanse of cream tiles and the walls decorated indulgently in cream and white swirls. It was beautiful and decadent and I was awestruck. At dinner-time we decided to eat and then stay up as long as we could so that the jet lag didn’t catch up with us straight away. We had agreed to meet in half an hour, and so I got a coke from the fridge and went out to the balcony with my book. Kyle’s balcony was next to mine, and he sat there, too.