She grabs my hand and begins to tug me towards the house. “Hurry! Your daddy is making me pancakes with smiley faces!”
“Ooh, that’s his speciality!” I say, unable to hide the huge grin on my face, even though my mind is very confused. I follow her up the steps and into the house.
Standing in the door to our living room is the elegant silhouette of Sadie Lee, Noah’s grandmother. As she hears me approach, she turns round and beams with her warm smile. “Penny! It’s so good to see you, honey. You’re looking well.” She embraces me with two kisses on the cheek. Her previously long grey hair has been cut into a chic bob. With her high cheekbones and sparkling eyes, she’s the most sophisticated grandmother I’ve ever met.
“It’s so good to see you too! Wow! Is . . .” The next words get stuck in my throat. Is Noah here? is what I want to ask, but I don’t want to seem ungrateful about seeing her and Bella.
“Unfortunately, no,” says Sadie Lee, guessing my question and tilting her head in apology.
“Oh,” I say. I can’t help the disappointment that settles on my shoulders.
“I take it you haven’t heard from him either?”
I shake my head.
She sighs. “That boy . . . He’ll get in touch when he’s ready.”
When I realize she means that they haven’t heard from him either, fear grips my heart. “Is he OK?” I ask.
She nods. “He left a message with his new management giving an emergency contact number if anything really terrible happens, along with a request to respect his wish for a creative break. Noah’s always been a free spirit, able to sort things out on his own, and he needs his privacy. I know him too well—if we go hunting for him, or keep checking up on him with messages and emails, he’ll run further from the situation, whatever situation that may be. Giving him space is exactly what he needs, so we need to give it to him. Still . . . I’m glad that we get to see each other.”
“Me too.”
Mum waltzes in from the kitchen with an “Oh good, you’re back! Surprise, Penny darling!”
“It’s the best surprise ever!”
Then Mum turns to Sadie Lee. “Have you had a chance to tell her yet?”
“Tell me what?” I ask, instantly intrigued.
Sadie Lee laughs. “Not yet! But there’s no time like the present. Our visit isn’t just a vacation to see you and your family, nice though that is. Your mom and I have decided to do another event together.”
“Oh really?” I clap my hands together in delight. “Is it down here in Brighton?”
Mum shakes her head. “Not this time. It’s even better. Remember that wedding up in Scotland?”
“The one over half-term?” I ask. It’s the biggest budget event that Mum has been asked to do so far this year—almost as big as the last-minute New York wedding at Christmas where I first met Noah. Because it’s over half-term, Elliot, Alex, and I are here to join in as helping hands. It’s going to be my first time in Scotland, and already Elliot is picking out the perfect outfits for us to wear at the evening ball—with a touch of tartan, natch.
“Exactly. Sadie Lee has agreed to do the catering, so she and Bella are going to join us!”
My eyes dart from Mum to Sadie Lee. “That’s amazing news!” I say. Sadie Lee is a world-class caterer, who’s made her name particularly with her incredible pastries. (But even her grilled cheese sandwiches are the best—there’s nothing she can’t make super tasty.) Combined with Mum’s awesome party-planning skills, the two of them together are a force to be reckoned with.
“But, we have a lot to prepare, so I’m going to be sweeping Sadie Lee off to the shop straight after breakfast. Can you look after Bella this afternoon?”
“Yay! Yay! Yay!” Bella jumps up and down, tugging on my dungarees in time to each word.
“Of course!” I say with a big smile. “We’ll have a great time, won’t we, Bells?”
Dad’s voice interrupts before Bella can answer. “Who’s ready for pancakes?”
“Me!” she squeals, and rushes off towards the kitchen. It’s only when Bella’s left the room that it really hits me. They’re actually here ! My heart feels so full, it’s about to explode. As if breaking up with Noah wasn’t bad enough, it also hurt not to see his family either. I’d grown to love them too. Bella and Noah have the same warm, deep brown eyes, and having Bella here is a huge reminder that Noah isn’t. Even though it makes my heart ache a little, I’m glad they still feel comfortable enough to remain friends with us.
Thinking of friends makes my mind jump suddenly to my bestie.
“Mum, do you mind if I go see Elliot? He’ll have been cooped up with his parents while I’ve been away because Alex is out of town . . .” And I have to fill him in on my crazy Saturday. He will absolutely fall to pieces when he finds out about Callum. I hope he will be proud of me for taking a step in the direction away from Brooklyn Boy.
“Have you eaten already?”
“Yup! I had a sandwich on the train.”
“Then sure! Just be back before eleven. Your dad can look after Bella until then.”
I give her a kiss on the cheek and then hug Sadie Lee tightly. I head back out of the front door and jump across the steps to the front of Elliot’s house.
“. . . Maybe if you listened a bit more!”
“Me? Listen? You don’t even let me get a word in EDGEWAYS!”
My finger hovers over the bell as the angry words drift through the door towards me. I cringe. Elliot’s mum and dad are fighting again. I take a step back and look up at the highest window to see if I can signal to Elliot somehow, without interrupting his parents.
It turns out I don’t have to. The door swings open and a red-faced Elliot barrels out, almost knocking me back. “Elliot!” I cry. His head shoots up, then—when he sees it’s me—he throws his arms round me.
“Get me out of here?” he whispers in my ear.
I grab his hand and together we hurry down the steps. I know exactly where to go.
Chapter Nine
Inside Starbucks, hands wrapped round a pumpkin spice latte, Elliot is a torrent of emotion. Tears flood his cheeks, and the poor barista who serves us gives him a free extra shot of syrup to help cheer him up.
“I just can’t take it anymore, Pen. They’ve been fighting from Friday night, all yesterday and they’ve started up again this morning. And do you know what they started fighting about?”
I don’t even want to ask, but he goes ahead and tells me anyway.
“The colour of Dad’s tie. Apparently he went to work wearing one tie and came back wearing another. Mum wanted to know why. Dad gave some lame excuse about spilling soup down it at lunch or something.”
“Well . . . that could’ve happened.”
“It could have. But it doesn’t matter because Mum doesn’t believe him. So they just shout and shout until I make the mistake of coming downstairs to make myself avocado on toast before I starve to death. Mum corners me and asks me what I think.” He takes an extra-large gulp of his coffee.
“Oh man, what did you say?” I ask.
“I didn’t have to say anything! Dad screamed something about ‘Why ask him for relationship advice when his relationship is not welcome in this house?’ and then Mum screamed at him not to be so homophobic, then she switched tactics and asked me what colour his tie was on Friday morning and I said I didn’t know because I was at Alex’s. Then Mum burst into tears and said I cared more about Alex than about them and I wasn’t allowed to spend anymore nights there. At which point, I stormed out and—here we are.”
“Oh, Elliot. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s just so frustrating. It went from, like, my parents being the ultimate stoic, silent, bottle-your-feelings-up-until-you-explode couple to them constantly letting rip in these epic fighting matches. It’s like twenty years of pent-up anger blowing its top. I can’t handle it. The tension in the air is so thick, I feel like I need to shower every time I walk inside.” He shivers. “A
lex is my only escape, so there’s no way I’m giving up nights there—even if I can’t go back home ever again.”
“You don’t mean that,” I say.
His blue eyes glisten with tears behind his bottle-green glasses. “Maybe not. Maybe I do. My Great Escape Card is getting topped up every time Mum feels guilty and gives me money for fighting all the time. You don’t understand what it’s like there anymore. It’s hell on earth.”
I know it must be serious if he’s talking about his Great Escape Card. Elliot’s always full of wild plans, often starting with “Let’s run away to . . .” and ending with some glamorous place like “Paris!” or “L.A.!” or once even “the circus!” (“but not any old circus—it’d have to be Cirque du Soleil”). Even me pointing out that I couldn’t do so much as a cartwheel didn’t deter him. At some point he realized he’d need money if he was ever going to make any of those plans a reality, hence the card—a debit card for his “just in case” savings. Something I’ve always been wildly jealous of, but never quite been sensible enough with my own money to create. I reach out and grab his hand, squeezing it tightly. He squeezes back, giving me a small smile.
“So, distract me,” he says. “Tell me about your day with Mega-Nasty.”
“Aw, she’s not that bad, Wiki. Her school is really cool. I’ve honestly never seen anything like it . . . it’s like something out of a TV show. Still . . .” Elliot leans forward, sensing the juicy gossip. I don’t want to break my promise to Megan and tell him how bad she’s found it, but I also need Elliot’s advice on Posey. I take a deep breath and continue. “I had a little panic attack and had to go outside, where I met this girl who’s also in Megan’s class. She’s this amazing singer, but she has really terrible stage fright and she’s just been cast in the lead role of West Side Story.”
“Wait, but I thought Megan had the lead role?”
I shake my head. “She’s the understudy.”
“What? So she’s lying on Facebook?”
“Well . . . if this girl can’t perform, then Megan does get the lead role. So now I feel torn—I really want to help this girl, but if Megan finds out, she’s going to kill me.”
“Well, well, well,” says Elliot, rocking back in his chair. “The Mega-star is a Mega-fake.”
“Elliot . . .”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”
“There is something else too, that might change your mind about her. It’s something you guys actually agree on.”
“I doubt it, but do tell.”
“Well, in the common room there was this guy and she gave him my number.”
Now Elliot leans forward again, his palms flat on the table. “STOP! I need details. How tall? Eye colour? Hot? Name? Occupation? Spill everything, Penny Porter.”
I laugh. “His name’s Callum and he’s Scottish.”
“I love him already,” says Elliot, faking a swoon.
“He’s a photography student at Madame Laplage and he’s super tall with these amazing green eyes and short, wavy blond hair . . . I guess he’s a little bit gorgeous!”
“A smoking-hot photography geek? Are you sure you didn’t just dream this guy up?”
I feel a blush rising in my cheeks as I talk about Callum. “No, but it was weird meeting someone I had so much in common with. At least, on the surface anyway.”
“That’s why you have to go on a date with him, Penny. To find out if there’s anything more than skin deep!” He winks. “And I take it he has a hot Scottish brrrrrogue?”
“A what-now?”
“An accent. Och aye the noo, lassie, ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and all that?”
I grimace at his terrible Scottish impersonation. “Not like that, but yes, sometimes I had to listen a few times before I understood what he was saying! It sounds like he’s speaking another language sometimes, but I like it.”
“Oh, it’s so romantic!”
“Don’t jump the gun—he hasn’t actually called or messaged me yet.”
“He will.”
“How do you know?”
“I just have this gut feeling. Aw, Pen, I’m super happy for you.”
I nod. “Don’t talk about it once we get back to my house, though.”
“Why not? I bet your mum and dad would be happy too that you’ve met someone else and won’t be moping around anymore.”
“OK, one—this is hardly a relationship—he just asked for my number! And two—Sadie Lee and Bella are at my house.”
“What? Why? Is—”
“He’s not back,” I say quickly. “Sadie Lee’s going to be doing the catering for the Scottish wedding in a couple of weeks.”
“And are you happy with that?” he asks, immediately able to read me like an open book.
“Of course I am! I love Sadie Lee and Bella!”
“But . . .”
I sigh. “But . . . it just makes me think of him even more. And worry about him. And wonder what he’s up to . . .”
“I know. But now you have Project Callum and Project Drama Student to keep you focused.”
“I can only hope. When is Alex back?”
“Should be later this morning, thank goodness!”
“Want to invite him over? You guys can help me babysit Bella.”
“Sounds good. Although we’ll probably hear my parents’ screaming match through your walls. Might have to blare out that cheesy nineties album you keep next to your bed.”
“Hey, nobody can resist a bit of Spice Girls on a dreary autumn evening. Don’t worry, I have an idea for something we can do later that’ll get us out of the house again.”
Elliot nods, but suddenly he looks so miserable again. I bite my bottom lip. “Oh, Elliot, what are you going to do?”
He shrugs. “It’s not up to me. It’s up to them. I’m just on a countdown until I can get out of there for real.”
• • •
We end up back at the house just before eleven, where we’re in time for Elliot to have his own reunion with Sadie Lee.
“Oh, honey, we’ll have to have a proper catch-up soon—you need to tell me all about your internship. Maybe one day you can come out to New York? You’ll always have a room at my house.”
Elliot’s eyes sparkle—but this time with tears of joy rather than sorrow. “Really? New York is, like, the DREAM. I’ll be like Heidi Klum on Project Runway—auf Wiedersehen !”
“Perfect! Now, we’ve got to fly. Ready, Rob? OK, Dahlia?” she asks my mum and dad. “It’s down to business for Dahlia and me, but we’ll have lots of time very soon.” Mum and Sadie Lee leave in a whirlwind of kisses and hugs, Dad lugging his golf clubs in tow for his weekend game.
When everyone has gone, I lean down on my knees. “So, Bella, do you want to see where dragons live in Brighton?”
Chapter Ten
“I can’t believe I’ve lived in Brighton all my life and never been here!” exclaims Elliot, his neck tilted up to the ceiling.
We’ve come to the Brighton Pavilion, a beautiful—but strange—former royal residence in the heart of Brighton and one of the most interesting buildings in the entire city. I remember visiting with my parents when I was a child, so I thought it would be the perfect place to take Bella, but I’d forgotten just how awe-inspiring it was. I used to call it the Mr. Whippy palace, because its white domes reminded me of ice cream.
It’s so strange how you can become oblivious to the amazing places that exist in your own backyard. Brighton has always been my home, and there is so much about it that I take for granted. I make a silent vow to appreciate my hometown more often.
“Did you know this used to be a military hospital in the First World War for Indian soldiers?” says Elliot.
Alex throws his arm round Elliot’s neck and kisses him on the cheek. “My little nerd! Such a know-it-all,” he announces.
“Yeah, but you love it,” Elliot throws back.
“You know it’s true, though,” Alex says with a wink.
I
grin at the two of them. “At least someone now appreciates all of Elliot’s knowledge.”
“And did you know that Queen Victoria sold this place to the town for the measly sum of about fifty thousand pounds because she didn’t like Brighton? I don’t know what her problem was . . .”
Elliot and Alex walk on ahead, hand-in-hand, following the chain of velvet ropes that line the visitors’ route through the Pavilion. I’m so glad Elliot decided to forgive Alex for being indecisive last year—and that Alex chose to step up to the plate. With all the turmoil and upheaval that is going on in Elliot’s life right now, he needs Alex’s constant, reassuring love. All of the tension that had been gathering in Elliot’s shoulders disappeared the moment we saw Alex. Even I don’t have that effect on him anymore. If there’s ever a couple that is in it for the long haul, it’s Alexiot.
We move through the different rooms and into the kitchen, where huge great copper pots hang on the wall. I can’t help but think of all the wonders Sadie Lee could pull off in a kitchen like this.
Then, as we step into the Banqueting Hall, I can only dream of the events Sadie Lee and Mum could host here together if they ever got the opportunity. Maybe I should suggest it to them . . .
“Penny, look!” Bella grabs the edge of my cardigan and tugs. I follow the line of her chubby finger, which is pointing up at a stunning gold chandelier with a serpentine Chinese dragon twisting round the chain.
I grin widely. “See, I told you there were dragons in Brighton!”
“Wow . . .” she whispers, and steps closer to my leg.
I give her a tight squeeze. “Don’t worry, they’re only for decoration.” I’m itching to take photos, but I’m not allowed to in here. My camera stays buried in the bag at my side.
Alex is staring at the beautifully laid-out banquet table, where not a single fork is out of place. “This guy—who was he again?”
“Prince George, before he became George IV,” replies Elliot, fount of all knowledge.
“He had interesting taste, that’s for sure,” Alex finishes.