Distraction

Chapter Thirty-One

He nodded.

'Why's she so sad?'

Patrick explained, never taking his eyes off Libby's mournful face.

'You like her?' his mum asked.

He took a deep breath, folding his arms. 'Maybe.'

'Well, she's nae but trouble.' His father stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets.

'Dad, she's not like that. She's a really nice girl.'

'She could be the next Mother Theresa, but if you're seen with her, getting up to no good, you'll be on the front page of the paper.'

'But dad-'

'We have an agreement and if she's such a nice girl, she'll wait 'til June. Or you'll deal with the repercussions.'

'Mum?' Patrick implored her. Be reasonable.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

'Fine. You can keep the painting and just so you know I'm going out tomorrow night. Drinking. But I've taken Monday off, swapped with Fergus. I take it that's within the rules?'

He strode out, pushing past his dad. Why couldn't they see that he'd changed? He slumped against the front door, resenting them. Sod it. He'd just do what he liked. He'd go out with Libby and to hell with their bloody rules.

'No, Elizabeth.' His dad's voice carried through the ancient single-glazed windows. 'The boy hasn't learned a damned thing. He can't always have his own way-'

Patrick climbed in his car. I've never been so ashamed to call you my son. Did he really want to risk seeing that look in his mum's eye again, even for... even for what? Would he risk everything, his mum's respect, for a few months with Libby? She wanted to get married, have kids. It'd never work.

Well, it might. Could he risk everything on might?

*

As birthdays went, Libby's twenty-fifth didn't hold much hope for being the most exciting. Zoe had buggered off to see her parents in an attempt to avoid Jonathon's incessant visits to apologise. Robbie had insisted she had the day off, but aside from a leisurely run with Xander, she had nothing planned.

She lay on the floor, stretching in preparation for her run and smiled at the sunlight streaming through the window. On a beautiful day like this, she could potter around gardening. With the rest of the house finished, Zoe's mission was to make the back garden an outdoor living environment. For the house to achieve its maximum value, Zoe had said, it needed wicker sofas and decking, not crazy paving and dope plants.

Maybe Patrick would want the plants. He'd be out on his usual Sunday morning bike ride. If she hung out in the garden, he might pass by and come in for coffee. He did most Sundays. They did little more than read the papers, but Libby adored the company. Maybe this week she could ask him to stay for dinner. Okay, it wouldn't be a Zoe extravaganza of lamb with red wine jus, but there was a chicken in the fridge and who didn't like roast chicken?

The doorbell ringing almost brought her back to reality, but still daydreaming of kissing Patrick over roast potatoes had Libby answering the door, smiling like a loon.

Xander stood leaning against the porch. 'Happy birthday, Wilde.'

The sight of him in baggy shorts and a bike helmet tempered her smile. 'You're cancelling on me?'

'Slight change of plan,' Xander said. 'We're going for a bike ride.'

Libby shook her head. 'I don't like bikes.'