Authors: Kate Charles

False Tongues (40 page)

Was she angry at Sebastian, for disrupting her carefully constructed life? Or angry at herself?

Had she felt, on some level, that she bore a share of the responsibility for her son's death? Yes, someone else had struck the fatal blow. But she had failed him. If she'd taken the time and made the effort to know her son better, he might have been a happier, better adjusted person. He might never have become a bully. He might have been comfortable with his own sexuality, rather than torturing himself in private. He might never have gone to Paddington Green that nightâ¦

Miranda realised that she was crying, silent tears streaming down her face. Tears for Sebastianâthe one she'd thought she knew, and the real one she'd never known. Tears for her marriage: was it too late to save it?

Tears for herself.

***

Callie climbed the steps to her flat above the church hall with mixed emotions. Part of her was still with Marco, from whom she'd parted at King's Cross as he went to his flat to shower and change his clothes. He would join her here later, probably with food to cook for their supper. And possibly with an overnight bag as wellâ¦

Her main emotion, though, was the sheer joy of homecoming, tinged with apprehension. Would Peter have trashed the place? Would he break his promise to leave, and be ensconced for another prolonged stay?

She needn't have worried, she realised as she pushed the door open. Yes, there were a few tell-tale signs of his occupancy, but by and large he seemed to have made an effort to tidy up. And his bag, stuffed full and zipped up, was by the door.

Callie sighed with relief as a black and white bundle of fur cannoned into her legs, ecstatic at her return. She went down on her knees to hug Bella and receive her welcoming kisses.

Peter appeared from the kitchen. âI've just made myself a coffee. Would you like one?' He'd given her the fancy capsule-based coffee machine the last time he'd been to stay, and he was the only one who used it. Callie usually preferred tea, and Marco made his coffee the old-fashioned Italian way, on the hob.

âNo, thanks.'

âWell, I'll just drink this, then I'll be off.'

Overwhelmed with gratitude that he was really leaving, she said, âThanks so much for looking after everything. Bella's been okay?'

âShe's been a darling. As usual. Though of course she's missed you.'

âAnd I've missed
you
,' she addressed her dog, kissing the top of her head and scratching behind her floppy ears. Bella rolled over on her back, legs in the air.

âShameless, isn't she?' Peter said cheerfully.

âTakes one to know one.'

âOoooh!' he went, in his best Kenneth Williams voice. âGet you!' He put his coffee cup down and grabbed the strap of his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

âDo you have somewhere to go, then?' Callie didn't want to ask, but in all good conscience she couldn't put him out on the street without making sure.

âI told you, Sis. I had a flat lined up. I signed the papers yesterday, and moved most of my stuff in this morning. So I'm sorted. But thanks for asking,' he added with a grin. âVery noble, I'm sure. Though I'm not going to ask what you would have done if I'd said no.'

What
would
she have done? Fortunately, she wasn't being put to the test.

Callie got up from the floor. âMaybe we can have lunch one day next week, and catch up.' She put her hand on his arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

âSis!' He grabbed her hand. âWhat is
this
?'

âI believe it's commonly known as an engagement ring,' she said smugly.

âThat's fantastic! Good old Mark popped the question, did he?'

âHe did.' She wasn't about to tell him anything more than that, so she just smiled.

âWe'll definitely have lunch,' Peter promised. âI want to hear all about it.'

With a wave he was gone. Callie closed the door behind him and leaned her back against it.

The only sound was Bella's tail, thumping on the floor.

Callie opened her arms wide, symbolically embracing her flat. âThere's no place like home,' she said aloud.