I’m waiting outside before they pull up. Feel a bit sick about all of it—whatever it is…. That she had a fight, and I wasn’t there. I should have been. Glad that Tom was there though—sort of. But even that makes me feel off. Why was he there when I wasn’t? I only dropped her there a few hours ago, and he went over already?
His car pulls up. It’s not a Bentley.
Not a Rolls, not a Lambo, not a Porsche. It’s a Range Rover and it annoys me that he’s this unpretentious. It’s a grey SVAutobiography, which is a £140,000 car that pretty much looks the same as a £35,000 car. Such a fucking flex to buy a regular-looking car that’s four times the price of the normal kind.
Parks opens the passenger door, jumps out and straight into my arms. I hold her against me, her face in my chest, my hands in her hair, press my mouth down into the top of her head. Tom England stands there by his car, frowning as he watches us. And I feel a pang of bad for him—wish I could tell him he’s not doing anything wrong, that it’s not his fault, we’re just like this.
I don’t know why he brought her to me.
And then I notice the blood. “What the fuck happened?” I grab her hand.
She shakes her head. “Nothing—it’s just a cut.”
“What happened?” I ask louder and clearer as I look from her to Tom. “Your dad did this?” I inspect her hand; it probably doesn’t need more than a few butterfly strips, then I don’t let go of it.
“It was an accident,” she tells me, eyes all heavy and shit. She’d lie to me if it meant I wouldn’t do something stupid, so I look over at Tom, eyebrows up, asking without asking. He nods and walks towards us and honestly? Fuck him. For being this cool, and this smooth, and for bringing his girlfriend to her ex-boyfriend in the middle of a low-grade crisis and not acting like an insecure arsehole even when Parks’ face is buried in my chest like it is right now.
“So what happened, man?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Her dad came in yelling—” He gives me a look. “Really yelling—”
I frown. “Why?”
Tom shrugs with a bit of a grimace. “It’s on the news.”
I pull back and glance down at her in my arms. “Was it you?” She doesn’t say anything but gives me the Bambi eyes…. So, it was her. Hah. Hell hath no fury like a Magnolia Parks scorned. I nudge her in the chin. “My girl.”
Tom shifts on his feet. “You alright?” I nod at him.
He shrugs, dismissive. “Fine, yeah—just a bit of shoving.”
I nod and look back down at Parks. “What’d he say to you?”
Tom shakes his head a little. “Threatened her a bit.”
“No!” I scowl, looking from Tom to Parks. “Harley did?” Tom nods. “What the fuck?” I scowl. “Fuck, I’m glad we’re leaving—”
She pulls back and looks up at me. “About that”—she gives me a quick smile—“Tom’s going to come.”
“Oh,” I say and then tack on a smile at the end, and I swear I see his mouth twitch, amused. “Great. That’s—yeah. Cool.”
“We can take my plane—” he offers.
I shrug. “I have a plane, she has a plane. We all have planes—”
“Yes.” Parks gives me a look. “However, he’s the only one who’s licensed to fly us there himself.”
“Right, then.” I nod casually, cursing the fucking day I didn’t go to pilot school myself.
I could be a pilot if I wanted to be.
Tom backs away towards his car.
“We’ll fly out tomorrow afternoon,” he tells us, that smarmy git. “Farnborough.” He points to me and says something I hate more than anything anyone’s said to me before: “You look after her.”
