The Socialite's Secret Read online

  ‘Are you up to going out for a walk?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘My parents are dropping by about four. I’ll be home before then but I need something...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Biscuits.’

  Scarlet frowned.

  ‘Biscuits?’ she checked, because where she was from you ate them for breakfast and with gravy. ‘You’re going to give them biscuits?’

  And then Luke remembered there were so many differences between them.

  ‘Cookies.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because they’ll want a cup of tea. We’re polite like that,’ Luke said with an edge.

  ‘You want me to buy cookies for their anniversary?’

  ‘If you’ve got time.’

  ‘Ha-ha.’

  ‘Do you have any money?’ Luke asked.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Because there’s some in the drawer by my...’ Luke hesitated. There were some other things he didn’t want her to see in the drawer by his bed. It was too late for that, though.

  ‘I’ve already found them,’ Scarlet said. ‘I snooped the first day I was here.’

  ‘Well, beside them is some cash.’

  ‘I’ll treat you,’ Scarlet said and, suddenly too angry for words, she rang off.

  Luke called back.

  ‘Did you just hang up on me?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Good for you.’

  He liked it that she could argue, that she was starting to find her voice.

  ‘I’ve got a present for you,’ Luke said.

  ‘Really?’ Scarlet frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘Go and open my wardrobe.’

  Scarlet got up and Luke sat there hearing her swear at how cold it was, even thought he’d left the heater on high, and trying not to imagine her streaking naked across his bedroom.

  ‘Where?’ she asked.

  ‘There’s a bag at the bottom.’

  Scarlet peeled it open with delight and pulled out all the lovely knickers and bras. ‘Are these for me?’

  ‘Scarlet, if I’m hiding a bag of ladies’ underwear in my wardrobe for myself, then we really do have a lot to discuss. Enjoy.’

  ‘Talk to me,’ Scarlet said. She was already pulling some knickers on.

  ‘I’ve got to go, I really am busy.’

  A running commentary about underwear with Scarlet he really did not need!

  * * *

  It felt odd to be out in the village. Scarlet had found a scarf and wrapped it around her head. Not so much to hide, but she didn’t get why everyone was saying it was mild for November. She’d never felt more frozen in her life.

  One thing the English did very well, though, Scarlet decided as she walked through the store, was cookies! Then she saw a recipe card for coffee-and-walnut cake and decided that she’d make that and bought the necessary ingredients. Happy with her purchases, she headed out of the shop but then caught sight of her reflection.

  She looked like the Matchstick Girl in the clothes Luke had bought her so she walked into a small boutique and smiled at a woman behind the counter.

  ‘Hi,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘Hello!’

  She started to look through the racks of clothing. ‘Are you looking for something special?’ the woman asked.

  ‘I’m looking for something not too special.’ Scarlet sighed. ‘I’m staying with a friend and I don’t have much with me.’

  Her name was Margaret and she was lovely and a happy hour was spent trying on various pieces of clothing. Scarlet had soon amassed quite a collection.

  ‘Ooh, I haven’t seen this one,’ Margaret said, as Scarlet handed over her card to pay.

  That card and the money on it was Scarlet’s biggest achievement, not that Margaret could know. It had taken a year to get to this point. A year of squirrelling away cash, pretending she wanted to know what it felt like to go into a restaurant and pay. Setting up an account on an auction sight and selling signed photos. Just putting a little away with a dream in mind.

  And maybe that dream had been a cottage on the beach to clear her head before she again faced Luke, but that hadn’t quite worked out. Still, it felt brilliant to choose and buy her own clothes.

  It was a very different house that Luke came home to—the scent of cake hit him as he came in and there was Scarlet looking like a Scarlet he had never seen.

  Gone the celebrity, gone too the Matchstick Girl clothes he had inadvertently bought her.

  She was wearing a huge chunky nutmeg jumper and thick black stockings and black velvet stilettos and, possibly, a skirt, but the jumper was a bit too big to tell.

  ‘Wow,’ Luke said.

  ‘I know.’ Scarlet grinned as she spread icing. ‘It’s my first cake.’

  He wasn’t talking about the cake but he made the right noises, even if it did look like she was icing two burnt pancakes.

  ‘How’s Mom?’

  ‘They’re going to try and take off the ventilator later on today.’

  ‘Should I be there?’

  ‘She’s going to be drowsy at first...’

  ‘Luke, please, tell me what to do.’

  ‘Whatever it is that you want to do,’ Luke said. ‘Scarlet...’ He wanted her away from that woman, and to never have to see her again.

  But it wasn’t his place to say that.

  She busied herself icing her cake.

  ‘Coffee and walnut,’ Scarlet explained.

  They were pecan nuts but he chose not to say anything.

  He put a finger in the icing mix and it was butter and not much else.

  ‘It doesn’t look like the picture.’ Scarlet sighed.

  ‘They never do.’

  ‘I hope they like it.’

  ‘Who?’ Luke said, and then realised she had made it for his parents’ visit. He’d actually forgotten they were coming. The whole drive home he’d been thinking about Scarlet and her mother, interspersed with Scarlet and what knickers she was wearing.

  ‘Look, I know my being here might make things awkward for you, so if you don’t want to have to explain me I can go for a walk.’

  ‘I don’t explain myself to my parents,’ Luke said. ‘The same way they don’t have to explain themselves to me.’

  ‘I just don’t want to create tension.’

  ‘Oh, there’ll be tension,’ Luke assured her, ‘but I promise it has nothing to do with you. There’s no need to be nervous.’

  ‘Easy for you to say. Do they know about us, about...?’

  Luke shook his head and gave a tense shrug. ‘A bit.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Just that I met you a couple of years ago. Marcus wouldn’t stop going on about it. They don’t know the other stuff.’

  ‘Do they work?’

  Luke nodded. ‘My father’s a professor in cardiology.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘She’s a curator.’

  He looked at her and could see she was daunted, so he came over and wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘Just be yourself.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Scarlet...’ He looked right into her navy eyes and, yes, he loathed sharing but he loathed her unease with herself even more, so he said what he could to help her relax. ‘My father screws around like you wouldn’t believe. He has affair after affair. Some casual, which my mother ignores. Sometimes they get serious and my mother hits the gin when it does.’

  Scarlet just looked at Luke as he gave a weary sigh and told her some more.

  ‘Then he stops seeing his mistress, my mother stops drinking, everyone’s happy and the cycle repeats itself. It’s like living in the laundromat.’

  Scarlet laughed. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘It’s obvious. Well, it is to me but, with that said, Marcus and Emma don’t have a clue...’

  ‘Emma?’

  ‘My sister.’

  ‘Oh, I thought she was a lady friend.’

  ‘You’re my lady friend,’ Luke said, a
nd then he changed tack because his hands were moving southwards. ‘Anyway, this weekend they’re going to be celebrating thirty-two years of dysfunction, but I’m not allowed to say that.’

  She frowned.

  ‘I’ll raise a cup of tea and we’ll have some walnut cake that you very nicely made and they’ll carry on their way. And no doubt by Sunday he’ll be out with his latest and my mother will be passed out on the sofa.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because I don’t want you to feel intimated.’ Luke let out a breath and Scarlet looked at this very deep man.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For?’

  ‘Telling me,’ Scarlet said, and then she smiled. ‘Some of it.’

  He smiled back and then he stopped smiling as tears filled her eyes.

  ‘I’m scared about my mom...’

  ‘I know. Look, I’ve taken tomorrow off—’ Luke started, then groaned when he heard a car in his driveway. ‘They’re here.’

  Oh, they were, and they were also very taken aback to find Scarlet in situ.

  Thankfully, though, it would seem they cared less about the famous Anya than they did about their son. His mother ran a very disapproving eye over Scarlet’s stockinged legs and the questionable presence of a skirt, and his father simply looked her up and down.

  Oh, my God, Scarlet realised, James Edwards was seriously checking her out.

  Scarlet actually wanted to laugh as she saw Luke’s eyes briefly shutter.

  ‘You made cake!’ Rose Edwards spoke as if Scarlet had just come in from the fields and mastered the appliances.

  Which she sort of had!

  ‘Not too much,’ Rose said, as Scarlet cut a very generous piece.

  ‘So, do you work at the Royal?’ James asked her legs as she handed him a plate.

  ‘No.’ Scarlet smiled. ‘I’m taking a break at the moment.’

  ‘Studying?’ Rose checked.

  ‘No.’ Scarlet gave Luke a slice. ‘I’m just—’

  ‘Scarlet’s just taking some time out,’ Luke said, and watched his mother pull a noncomprehending face and give a little shrug in a way only Rose could.

  ‘Luke didn’t mention anything,’ Rose said, and then she frowned. ‘Scarlet? Weren’t you two...?’

  ‘Scarlet and I go back a couple of years.’ Luke gave nothing away with his response. ‘She’s over from LA and has come to stay for a few days.’

  The cake really was amazing! Burnt and unrisen and the butter cream was almost pure butter.

  ‘You’re not having any?’ Rose said to Scarlet as they all chewed through hell.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Scarlet screwed up her nose. ‘Full of carbs!’

  Luke actually laughed and never had he been more grateful for poor cooking skills because when Scarlet went to offer more, his mother pointed out they had to be in London by seven.

  ‘Can’t count on the traffic,’ James said.

  Scarlet said her goodbyes but stayed in the kitchen because Rose was making frantic eye gestures to Luke to have a word outside.

  ‘Has she moved in?’ Rose demanded.

  ‘Temporarily, yes,’ Luke replied.

  ‘Luke, she’s...’ Rose was all pursed lips. ‘Just watch yourself.’

  Luke stood as they drove off and his father took another brick out of his wall. He walked inside.

  ‘Is that American hussy after your money?’ Scarlet was sitting on the kitchen bench and grinned as he walked back into the kitchen.

  ‘It would seem so.’

  ‘Your father!’ Scarlet started laughing. ‘He spoke to my thighs.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say about that.’ What could he say? ‘Never let him give you a tour of the library.’

  ‘Well, if I ever do get to see your home I’ll bear that in mind.’

  He came over and she wrapped her arms around his neck, and she could just feel his tension. She just looked at him and smiled.

  ‘Are you adopted?’ she teased, only because Luke was a younger version of his father but their personalities could not be more different.

  ‘I wish.’

  ‘Is he like that with all your...?’ She hesitated. She wasn’t really a girlfriend, she was just the hot mess that had landed at his door.

  ‘Yep,’ Luke said. ‘So don’t take it as a compliment.’

  ‘I shan’t.’

  He looked at her and usually he found family occasions, particularly if there was a girlfriend present, excruciating, but this one had almost ended with a smile.

  His father’s actions reflected no more on him with Scarlet than Anya’s did on her. Still, he was cross with them.

  ‘I can’t stand how she doesn’t notice what he’s up to, or pretends not to,’ Luke said. ‘And yet she nitpicks and judges everyone, what they wear, how they talk...’

  ‘How they cook...’ Scarlet smiled. ‘Poor Luke, having to eat that awful cake!’

  ‘I like it,’ Luke said.

  ‘Good, because it’s dinner.’

  Now she did make him smile. What he had said before about Scarlet clearing his head was true. It was as if the rest of the world was crazy when it was just the two of them.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Luke said.

  ‘I went shopping.’

  ‘I can see.’

  ‘And I love my presents.’

  ‘I want to see.’ He ran a hand over her bottom as she sat on the bench and they kissed. A kiss that both had been waiting for. Her hands pressed into his hair and Luke moved in between her thighs and she wrapped them around his waist.

  His kiss deepened, as if making up for two years of none. A slow, deep kiss that she didn’t want to end but it did.

  Luke remembered how upset she had been just before his parents had arrived.

  He didn’t want this to be about distraction. Both knew that at any moment the phone would go and there would be news about her mother. And, though he wanted more than anything to take her up to bed, or even on the kitchen table, there was so much to sort out first.

  ‘Do you want to go and visit your mum?’

  ‘You don’t want to drive all that way again...’

  ‘Do you want to go in?’ he offered again.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘That’s an answer,’ Luke said. ‘It’s okay not to know.’

  They went through to the lounge and it was like waiting for a bomb to go off. Scarlet sat cross-legged, tapping one foot, and then came over and lay on the coach, in her favourite spot—her head on his lap.

  ‘I can take you in tomorrow and I can stay with you while you speak with her.’

  ‘There’s no need for that.’ Scarlet shook her head. ‘I know you think she’s awful but she’s not all bad...’

  ‘No one is,’ Luke said. ‘It would be so much easier if that were the case.’

  ‘She can be so nice. I don’t know how to tell her I’m leaving after she’s been so ill.’

  ‘Leaving’s hard,’ Luke said. ‘Even when there’s no real reason to. Especially when there’s no real reason.’ And he told her a bit about the demise of his relationships prior to her. ‘It’s hard to admit something’s not working when there’s nothing really wrong, but sometimes...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, you should want to stay,’ Luke offered, not just to Scarlet but to himself as he thought of the demise of too many okay-ish relationships. ‘Not have to come up with reasons to.’

  He picked up his phone to glance at the time and Scarlet took it as a sign he was about to get up so she turned in his lap. ‘Don’t go...’ She ran a hand over him and her lips did the same. Luke took her hand as she went for his zipper.

  ‘I wasn’t going anywhere,’ Luke said.

  ‘Just making sure...’

  ‘Scarlet, I don’t need a blow job to stay on the couch with you.’

  He watched her face redden and tears fill her eyes, but he wasn’t shaming her, more those who had taught her that was the way to make someone stay
.

  ‘You don’t want me.’

  ‘I want you.’

  ‘And I want you to hold me.’

  Finally!

  He lay down beside her and showed her how nice it was to be held for no reason other than that.

  ‘You’re hard,’ Scarlet said a little while later.

  ‘It’ll pass.’ Luke grinned. He was as turned on as hell but there was a reason he wasn’t tearing her clothes off now and he stopped smiling. ‘Is that how you get your affection, Scarlet?’

  He’d guessed as much but it hurt when she nodded.

  They needed to start from the beginning, and that was why they lay there, half talking then dozing, and he wished they could stay there, but time moved quickly when you didn’t want it to and just as Scarlet dozed off he heard the buzz of his phone.

  He took the phone call and then sat there quietly for a moment and looked down at Scarlet. He did not want to invade her peace.

  But he had to.

  ‘Scarlet...’

  ‘Mmm...’

  ‘That was Craig, the anaesthetist working this evening. It’s okay...’ He felt her tense. ‘Your mum’s doing better.’

  ‘Is she asking for me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He could feel her rapid breathing.

  ‘It wasn’t an accident...’

  ‘It was,’ Scarlet said. ‘She just took too much.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It was.’ She started to cry and Luke just sat there, thinking that her intense pain would stop soon because very soon it would be made to.

  An accident.

  Whoops.

  But that just dulled the pain, it wouldn’t take it away.

  ‘I need to see her.’

  ‘She’s very angry and upset,’ he warned, but Scarlet was already pulling on her shoes and he had this awful feeling that back to her world she was going. Especially when she went upstairs and started filling her bag with her flats and the scarf she had pinched from him.

  He stood in the doorway, watching her, and told himself that they had, from the moment they had met, been temporary.

  ‘Can I have my clothes,’ Scarlet said, ‘and my phone?’

  ‘Are you coming back here?’ Luke asked.

  She just looked at him. ‘I don’t know!’

  Her honest answer felt like she’d thrown a knife.

  * * *

  Luke’s eyes felt as if he’d been swimming underwater as he drove back in to work.