A Brit on the Side (Castle Calder Book 1) (12 page)

Scarlett stops like that’s the end of the story, but I have to ask. I have to know. “What happened? Did she…?”

“Die? No. They said it was a miracle.” Scarlett spits the word out like it’s a curse. “But she broke both of her legs and, last I heard, she still walks with a cane. Not that I would know, of course, because we don’t speak. I tried to see her, email, phone, text, anything and she refused to respond. Because even though I didn’t physically put her behind the wheel of that car, I didn’t stop her either. I put my jealousy before my best friend’s wellbeing.”

“Scarlett, I --”

“You know what the worst part is? I blamed Jaz more than I blamed myself at first. He loved Sam in his way, but he was always going to uni, untethered and without distractions, which left no room for a girlfriend, regardless of how he felt about her. But he went out with her anyway and when she wanted a future, it was her problem. If he hadn’t made her believe they had something long-term, she would have never been in that accident. But for all Jaz’s faults, I was still the one who left her in the end.”

“It’s not your fault.” My voice is louder than it needs to be and I lower it as I continue. “And it’s not his fault either. I can’t imagine what that was like for you, but neither one of you is to blame. She made the choice, not you.”

“That’s what my therapist said. And I get it on an intellectual level, but seven years on, you can clearly see the St Juliens take blame very seriously.”

“So that’s what Jasper’s drinking is about?” I feel my face scrunch up.

“Gin and tonic is his drink of choice to get pissed whenever he’s feeling particularly sorry for himself. Inevitably it’s related to some girl whom he’s fucked things up with.” The look Scarlett gives me makes me think for a second she knows about Jasper and me. But then she shakes her head and sighs. “I know he’s being an asshole and I don’t expect you to put up with it, but I figured you should know why.”

I nod slowly. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this before?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Scarlett’s voice drops. “And look at how spectacularly I let down my last best friend.”

“Oh my God, Scarlett.” I step closer put my hand on her bare arm. Her skin is cool to the touch. “How can you even say that?”

“Experience is a bitch.” Scarlett shakes her head quickly and then forces a smile. “But now you know, and I promise I’ve always got your back. I know I’m not always the easiest person to deal with, but that’s a promise I’ll take to my grave.”

“I believe you.” I feel like I should make a promise in return, but the words stick in my throat.

“Good.” Scarlett nods and reaches for the door. “Now, let’s forget my wayward brother and get back to it, shall we?”

It’s my turn to force a smile as Jasper’s drunken leer pops into my head and I take a breath. As long as he keeps acting like he has been, I’ll forget him happily. Easily. God help us both if he doesn’t.

F
or the next two hours
, Claire and Scarlett take turns babysitting Jasper. Ed and Will make an occasional appearance, but they seem to have decided Jasper’s not their problem and spend most of their time trying to hook up. And Jasper, for his part, remains rooted to his stool, nursing a gin and tonic. He doesn’t say much and I’d forget he was here altogether if his eyes didn’t follow me everywhere I go.

For my part, I have a million questions, but nothing I feel like I can ask. Instead I follow Scarlett’s lead, staying on the dance floor ten times longer than I normally would. I dance most of the night and while I’m not sure I’d say it’s fun, it serves its purpose. I get lost in the music and manage to avoid another confrontation-slash-conversation with Jasper. I also manage to somehow work my way around to feeling sorry for him, which isn’t something I want or need, but it’s there nonetheless. Knowing about Sam makes so many things click into place – the push me/pull me dance we’ve been doing, Jasper’s inability to keep this casual. My instinct to keep things between us private.

Not that there’s anything between Jasper and me besides a long-ago weekend and a couple of stolen kisses.

Scarlett throws her arm around my shoulders as we leave the dance floor and get back to the table. “So? Final stats, please? How many guys did you give your number to?”

Jasper raises his eyebrows. He looks a lot more sober than he did a couple of hours ago, but it doesn’t make him any nicer. His tone is just as brusque when he says, “Giving out your number, Bea? And you skipped me? Am I not worthy?”

I muster up the most saccharine smile I can. “You don’t need my number, Jasper. You know where I live.” I turn to Scarlett and say, “And to answer your question, two. I gave my number to two guys, like we agreed.”

“How about the guy in the orange shirt?” Scarlett asks. “He was quite keen.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure it was you he was keen on.” I shake my head. “Plus, he’s too Theo-like.”

“Theo of ex-fiancé fame?” Jasper asks. “You’ve never said. Is Theo your ex because you broke it off? Or was it him?”

I slide my eyes over Jasper’s face. It’s arranged in a careful mask. The only hint his question isn’t as offhand as he makes it sound is the way the corner of his mouth turns down. Like he’s trying not to frown but can’t quite manage it. I work to keep my tone casual. “I broke things off. Not that it matters.”

Jasper shrugs. “I think it matters a great deal.”

The familiar frustration rises in my chest, but before I can give in to it, Scarlett laughs and says, “What matters is Bea getting back on the horse. Now the next thing we have to do is convince her to actually go on a date with one of these guys when they call.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal. I never agreed I’d actually go out with anyone. I said I’d play the numbers game.” I keep my voice even because if I’m not careful, I’m going to direct my irritation at Jasper onto Scarlett.

“Well, you can’t win if you don’t play,” Scarlett says. She wraps an arm around my shoulders. “But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I’m ready to take this knees up somewhere else.”

I glance at my watch. It’s ten after midnight. “Somewhere else? Oh my God, I’m so tired.”

Until I say it, I don’t realize how true it really is. But a wave of exhaustion crashes over me and I know I’m going to dig my heels in if Scarlett insists. But before she can say anything, Jasper butts in. “I’ll go back with you. I obviously needed to call it a night an hour ago at least.”

Crap. The prospect of sharing a cab with Jasper is almost worse than staying out. Scarlett’s eyes dart between the two of us and finally she says, “Seriously. We finally get a night out and we’re not even going to make last call.” She looks over her shoulder. “Where’s Claire? Let’s see what she’s up for.”

I look around too, but it’s Jasper who points to the far corner where Claire’s talking to a dark-haired guy with glasses. She looks deep in conversation and, if I had to guess, I’d say she’s not ready to go and won’t be for quite a while. Jasper seems to reach the same conclusion, saying, “She looks like she’s up for more. You two should stay and I’ll go back with Bea.”

“Bea should stay.” Scarlett sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. “All those times you ditched me early in Atlanta, I was patient. You had work, Theo, whatever. But tomorrow is a free day. There’s no reason on the planet why you need to bail right now.”

“Besides the fact I’m tired and want to go home?” I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not like you. When I’m done, I’m done, and it has nothing to do with Theo or work or what’s on the calendar tomorrow. Or you. If you want to stay, stay. I’m not asking you not to.”

Somewhere along the way, I’ve put my hands on my hips and Scarlett does the same. She shakes her head and lets her hands drop. “Fine. Go. I’m not mad, I just want you to change your mind.”

I won’t. Even though I haven’t forgotten leaving now means going back with Jasper. Unfortunately, he hasn’t forgotten either. “Well, then, if that’s settled, shall we? Unlike you both, I have a lot of work to get to tomorrow.”

A flurry of cheek kisses follow and I trail behind Jasper out of the club. We don’t exchange a word. In fact, we don’t say anything until we’re both buckled into the back of a black cab, winding our way up the main street of Windermere. Jasper breaks the silence. “I warned you.”

I straighten, pressing my back against the rigid bench seat. Jasper’s far enough away from me there’s room for a small child between us, but I angle my legs away from him anyway. “Warned me about what?”

“I apparently only know one way to do this.” He pauses. “Badly.”

“Do what?” There are so many things he could be talking about.

“Talk to you. Be with you. Watch you flirt with other guys. Pretend I don’t realize I’m being a total arsehole. Take your pick.”

“Why pick just one?” I let myself smile a little.

Jasper lets out a low chuckle. “Exactly my point.”

I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. As the cab makes its way out of the town center, the streetlights get further and further apart until they disappear completely. The only light is the red light below the partition, indicating the driver can’t hear us speak. The darkness wraps itself around me like a shawl. I peer out the window. “It’s really clear, but there’s no moon tonight.”

“It’s the new moon. If you came home with Scarlett, you might see it.”

I let a beat of silence drop between us. Then another. When I speak, my voice is soft. “She told me about Sam.”

“I know.” Jasper’s voice is as low as mine.

“Did she tell you?” I furrow my brow, trying to remember if I even saw Scarlett and Jasper speak after she told me.

“No, but it was pretty apparent. You were a lot nicer after you started feeling sorry for me.” Jasper’s voice holds overtones of that superiority I despise.

One step forward, ten steps back. I take a deep breath, but I sound angry anyway. “I don’t feel sorry for you. What happened to Sam sucks, but you and Scarlett blaming yourselves sucks, too.”

“There are times I forget about it completely, believe it or not.” Jasper shakes his head. “It’s reared its ugly head again for obvious reasons.”

This time I don’t try to temper my tone. “Because I’ll take to drinking away my sorrows? Or is it simply because I’m Scarlett’s friend?”

“You’re being solipsistic; it’s not about you.” Jasper’s voice softens. Finally. “You were right the other night. I’ve jumped to conclusions. Scarlett mentions you in passing and I’ve constructed your entire history based on a series of suppositions. Since you’ve been here, I can’t seem to find a middle ground between ignoring you completely and being wildly attracted to you.”

Wildly
attracted? It takes effort, but I manage to temper my reaction by focusing on the rest of his sentence. “Do you want to find a middle ground? Are you trying?”

“I haven’t been.” Jasper laughs and shifts in his seat. I’m glad for the dark, especially when he says, “But if tonight proved anything to me, it proved I don’t want to watch you flirt with other guys and compare stats with my sister about how many got your number.”

My mouth feels dry suddenly, but I manage to choke out, “What do you want then?”

“To start over?” Jasper’s words tumble out. “The weekend we had in Atlanta was incredible, but picking up where we left off puts us in the middle of something intense, and I’m obviously not ready for that.”

“Look, Jasper, I just got out of a relationship. I was engaged, for God’s sake. Intense is the last thing I need.”

“I know, but I can’t play by your rules either.” He lets out a sigh. “I told you. Casual hook-ups do my head in. I know you were probably over it in five minutes, but it’s embarrassing how long it took me to get over the weekend we spent together.”

“Okay, is this you trying to be a dick again?” My hackles rise, but I manage to keep my tone light.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, no. See? This is exactly what I mean. I’m barely fit for a civil conversation with you, let alone anything more.” Jasper lets out another sigh and for a minute I think he’s going to say forget it, throw the towel in on the whole conversation and wherever it was leading. But he continues. “Do you think we could start over? I’d like to get to know you like we never shagged.”

My loud laugh echoes in the space between us. “Get-to-know-you-like-we-never-shagged? That’s quite specific.”

I hear Jasper’s smile rather than see it. “It is, isn’t it? But it’s my description and I’m sticking with it.”

“And what does that entail, exactly?”

“Conversations that aren’t sizzling with tension or on the brink of hostile all the time, to start. I’d like to walk into a room where you are and not feel like I have to brace myself.” Jasper pauses. “And it would be ace not to feel like I’m putting my foot in it every time we speak.”

I smile and shake my head, even though he can’t really see me. “I think those are good goals. I hate feeling like we end up arguing every other time we see each other.”

“Exactly. Maybe we could aim for one in five as a general goal?”

“Are you going to start keeping an official tally?”

“Oh, yes. Complete with a scientific analysis and break down of individual components,” Jasper says.

“You write the analysis and I’ll do the math.” My smile feels a lot more genuine than it has all night.

“Excuse me, that’s maths. You’re in England now.”

“Of course.” I purse my lips and put on my best accent. “I will adjust accordingly.”

Jasper doesn’t say anything at first. When he does speak, his voice is low. “Me too, Bea. And thank you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

“Like we never shagged,” I add, keeping my voice gentle too.

“Yes.” Jasper nods as the cab turns into the drive to Castle Calder. “Exactly like that.”

E
ven though we
don’t have a lot of guests in, the next few days are unexpectedly busy at Castle Calder. There’s a wedding on Friday, which has been booked in last minute, throwing Hannah into a frenzy. When I walk into the kitchen early Tuesday afternoon, she’s bent over a notebook, writing furiously and shaking her head.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this,” Hannah says without looking up. “The marquee is going to ruin the garden. Plus, now we’ll have to put on the extra catering Friday night too.”

Lou stands in front of the open refrigerator. “It’s party food and a buffet, so the catering will be nothing to worry about.”

“But then we have to make sure to get the chairs and I can only get them from George in Manchester on such short notice. Jasper can go over to get them today, but Paul’s in London and it’s a two-person job.” She looks up at me as if I’ve asked a question. “The place we rent from is a family-run business and the gentleman had heart surgery not long ago. His wife’s not much better off. She has chronic fatigue. But neither one of them can help load the van.”

“Why doesn’t Bea go?” Lou asks, looking at me as she closes the fridge. “You can lift some chairs, can’t you?”

“Um…” I can and I will if absolutely necessary, but I’d rather not. Because even though Jasper and I have been easier with each other since Saturday night, I wouldn’t call our interactions comfortable. “What about dinner prep?”

“I can help out. It’s Tuesday, so we just have prep to do,” Hannah says. “Scarlett’s meeting with the bride this afternoon to go over the color scheme and Claire’s teaching tennis, but both of them will be free tonight if we have any catching up to do.”

“You should go,” Lou says. “See Manchester while you’re there.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Lou was trying to throw Jasper and me together. I raise my eyebrows at her. “Scarlett says the only good thing about Manchester is the airport because you’re on your way out of town when you get there.”

Lou lets out a low laugh. “She’s not wrong, but you should see for yourself as part of your great British summer.”

“Every little helps,” Hannah adds.

They both laugh and I smile a little. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s an old advert for one of the supermarket chains. It’s probably not funny to you,” Lou says.

“I need to watch more TV. Pop culture references go right over my head.” I smile. “To be fair, American pop culture references go right over my head too, though.”

“Which is a travesty,” Scarlett says as the door swings open. “You know it’s bad when I’m the one explaining
America’s Next Top Model
.”

“Where’s Brigid, darling?” Hannah asks.

“She’s popped to the loo and I said I’d get us a drink and some cake. This bridal business is hard work,” Scarlett says. She glances at me. “There but for the grace of God and all of that. Seriously, I don’t think you want to do this.”

“Too many conversations about the food matching the flowers?” I ask.

“For this whole wedding being a last-minute arrangement, Brigid has an awful lot of opinions is all I’m saying.” Scarlett goes over to the counter where the bread and cake are lined up. “What can I have from over here, Lou? Whatever you’ve got is fine, but I’d love some chocolate.”

“Take the Malteser cake.” Lou doesn’t even look up from the pile of vegetables in front of her. “And the water’s hot for a pot of tea. We probably even have some finger sandwiches if you want some proper food.”

“I should. We’re going to be at it awhile.” Scarlett sighs, then says to me, “If you’re not busy, feel free to join us. Maybe the voice of experience will help?”

Technically I didn’t get very far with my wedding planning. My mother, on the other hand, was gung ho. That right there probably should have been a sign. I shake my head. “I’m actually going to Manchester with Jasper to get the chairs.”

“Oh, make him take you to San Carlo for dinner,” Scarlett says. “It’s amazing and right downtown, so you’ll get to see the city, too.”

“I thought you hated Manchester?” I feel my face scrunch up as I ask the question.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see it. It’s got a lot of history and Jaz knows it all. He’s a wealth of useless information, but in this case you’ll probably learn something interesting,” Scarlett says. She grabs a tray from a shelf and I reach for cups and saucers.

As I fill a teapot with water from the industrial size kettle, Lou says, “Manchester’s the second largest city in England and was key to the Industrial Revolution. It’s still the major employment hub in the north.”

“See?” Scarlett says, placing a ceramic jug of milk on the tray. “You’re learning interesting things already.”

I laugh. “I have high hopes then for the rest of the day.”

An hour later as Jasper and I careen down a winding country road in the Castle Calder white utility van, my only hope is I won’t puke all over the floorboards. The manual shift combined with a fair amount of sudden braking has made me so nauseous, I have to hang my face out of the window. I don’t even care that my hair is a rat’s nest and I’ve got drool on my chin.

“We’ll be on the motorway in less than five minutes,” Jasper says. “This van doesn’t have the best suspension.”

I nod, but I don’t speak until we’re done merging onto the highway. “Okay, I have to tell you, if you drive like that on the way back, I will throw up on you.”

“What? My driving is fine.” Jasper’s voice rises an octave. I can’t tell if it’s in surprise or disagreement.

“I’m here to tell you that no, it really is not.” I comb my fingers through my hair to pull it back into a messy ponytail. “Bad suspension or not, you need to cool it on those turns.”

He laughs. “Cool it on those turns? Is that technical advice?”

“If you learned to drive with my mother, it is. And since I learned to drive with my mother, well…” Now that I feel less pukey, I even manage a small smile.

“And I suppose she taught you the intricacies of the thingamajig and doohickey as well?”

“My mother’s method of driver’s education was a combination of reciting from the manual of our Toyota Camry and blind panic when I actually took the wheel. She actually made me read the entire owner’s manual cover to cover before she let me in the driver’s seat. Then she’d choose a section to review aloud before every driving session.” I roll my eyes. “However, her knowledge seemed to disappear in direct correlation to my speed. By the time we hit I-75 to practice driving on the highway, she could only manage things like, ‘Cool it on those turns.’”

Jasper laughs, the sound deep and rich. “Sounds like a great experience for you both.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. She still hates driving with me. I don’t think she can help seeing sixteen-year-old me behind the wheel and it terrifies her. Who taught you to drive?”

“My dad. He was pretty relaxed about it, though.”

“Yeah. I can tell.”

Jasper laughs again and our whole trip to Manchester is like this. We take turns telling inane stories and our conversation is punctuated by laughter. It brings up memories of Atlanta Jasper, but I quickly shove those down. Remembering Atlanta Jasper hasn’t worked very well so far and this is honestly the most comfortable I’ve felt with him the whole summer. If this is getting to know each other like we never shagged, I’ll take it.

“So, are you hungry or should we collect the chairs first?” Jasper asks as we follow the directions on the GPS to take the exit.

“Food. I’m starving. Plus, it gives me more time to digest in anticipation of the return trip.” I grin.

“I’m going to ignore your comment, thank you very much. But I agree. I’m starving, too. How about we park by George’s and walk? It’s a little far, but we’ll see more of the city.”

“I hear you’re full of fun facts about Manchester,” I say.

Jasper glances at me and wriggles his eyebrows. “I’m full of fun facts about everything.”

If we hadn’t made our agreement, I’d call his tone flirtatious. Instead, I ignore it and say, “Okay, hit me. What’s the coolest thing you know about Manchester?”

Jasper doesn’t even hesitate. “The coolest scientific thing I know is the atom was first split by Ernest Rutherford in Manchester in 1919. In fact, over twenty Nobel Prize winners have studied at the University of Manchester, which is incredible. The coolest general thing I know is Charles Dickens’ novel,
Hard Times
, is supposedly based on Manchester.”

“Wow, it’s three for the price of one fact day.” I can’t help smiling. “Scarlett’s fun fact was it rains at least half the year here.”

“Also true.” Jasper eases the white van over to the curb in front of a seventies-style apartment building. “The blue skies you see now will likely be gone soon, so make sure you’re appreciating them.”

“I’ve learned to appreciate the sun more this summer than I ever have.” I unbuckle my seatbelt as Jasper turns off the ignition. “We’re here, I presume?”

He nods. “We’ll go knock and tell George we’ll be back later.”

He hops out of the van and I do the same, following him through the glass door of the building. The hallway is dim, but Jasper doesn’t hesitate, striding down until he gives a sharp knock on a wooden door to the left. It’s opened a few seconds later by a short gray-haired woman who throws her arms around Jasper’s chest and says, “Well, shine a light, it really is you.”

“Hiya, Rose. You’re looking lovely, as always.” Jasper kisses her cheek and then waves me forward. “This is Bea. She’s a friend of Scarlett’s who’s helping out this summer.”

Rose squints at me and smiles. “Hannah said you were coming. Pleasure to meet you. Come in, come in. We’ll have a cuppa.”

Jasper holds his hand up. “Actually, Bea and I are going to walk downtown and grab a bite before we load up, so maybe we could have a cup of tea and a proper chat when we come back? Bea’s never been to Manchester before, so I promised to show her the sights and regale her with fascinating facts.”

Rose squints at me a little harder. “That’s right. You’re American, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m from Atlanta.” My voice slips into a southern drawl. Where the hell did that come from?

Jasper glances at me like he’s wondering the same thing and says to Rose, “If we come back in a few hours or so, is that okay?”

Rose nods. “Of course, of course. Take your time. Are you sure you don’t want a lift over? It’s a fair walk, you know.”

“It will be good to stretch our legs.” Jasper takes a step back. “I’ll text you when we start walking back and we can catch up then.”

Rose promises some sort of biscuits as well as tea and then Jasper and I are on our way. Once we’re back out on the sidewalk he says, “We can cab it if you want. I didn’t want Rose to feel like she had to take us.”

“I’m okay to walk. How do you know her?” Because she seems a lot more familiar than a vendor/supplier normally would.

“Rose and George used to live in the village and Rose helped out in the kitchen sometimes back when Mum and Dad first bought the place. George had an events supply company, everything from marquee to tables and chairs to those huge stands companies rent out for exhibitions. About five years ago, they decided they wanted to be closer to their grandchildren, so they moved over to Manchester. They’ve kept the rentals business on the side, but most of their inventory has been sold off,” Jasper says.

“So your parents give them some business every once in a while?”

“Don’t let the apartment fool you. They have a gorgeous place in Mallorca where they spend at least half the year.” Jasper points and we turn right. “They were kind of like my surrogate grandparents when I was a kid. Rose, especially.”

“Where are your real grandparents? Scarlett never mentions them.” I don’t realize until I hear myself say it that this is true. In all the years I’ve known Scarlett, I’ve only heard her mention a dead grandmother.

“My mum’s parents are dead. They’re the ones who left my mum their estate that basically enabled my parents to buy Castle Calder.” Jasper pauses. “And my dad’s parents are who knows where. We don’t see them and he doesn’t keep in touch.”

“Why not?” I blurt the question out without thinking and then wince. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

Jasper shrugs. “They fell out because my dad was engaged to marry someone else when he met Mum. Apparently the other woman was wealthy and gorgeous and perfect in every way except one. My dad didn’t love her enough not fall in love with someone else.”

“Wow. And they thought he was making a mistake?”

“The way Dad puts it, they didn’t support his choice. He thought they’d come around, but when he formally ended his engagement, apparently they had a huge row and stopped speaking to him. He and Mum invited them to the wedding, but they sent their regrets and that’s the last he’s ever heard from them.” Jasper’s tone is matter-of-fact, the sound of someone unaffected.

But mine is astonished with tinges of angry. “That’s completely screwed up. They don’t get to have a say in who their son wants to spend his life with. It’s his life.”

“Says the girl whose mother doesn’t think she should have ended her own engagement?” Jasper’s arm winds around my shoulders to steer me down a street on the left. I expect him to drop it immediately, but we take ten more steps before he does, shoving his hands in his pockets and saying, “Are you ever going to tell me about that?”

I shove my hands in my own pockets. “About what? My mother or my engagement?”

“Either.” Jasper bites his lip. “Both.”

A week ago, I would’ve clammed up, sure Jasper would somehow use my past as ammunition, but now… Maybe it’s the sun. Maybe it’s the easy banter we’ve had all day. Hell, it could be the alignment of the stars. But all I know is my words tumble out like I have to tell him. “There’s not much to tell on either front. My mom’s great, but she’s really enthusiastic. About everything. Which can get kind of overwhelming. My dad took off pretty early on, so it’s been only the two of us for ages. I don’t like hurting her feelings, so I’m not firm enough about setting boundaries. The end result is we have a lot of non-conversations because she wants to know everything about my life and I don’t want to tell her because I can’t deal with her eagerness. She’d probably know a lot more if she could muster up some thinly veiled disinterest every once in a while.”