Picture Perfect

Chapter Five: Tyler

Every time I write this book, I feel all warm and glowy. There's just something about these characters that make me smile.

Chapter Five: Tyler

I get a glimpse of a new life

The next morning, I called Siobhan. "Hypothetically speaking, if I was moving to England, how much drama would that create, legally?"

Siobhan replied drily, "I did hear Sorcha was back in town. What's she done this time?"

My sister and Sorcha had been together for a wild six months many years prior, and had split in a very public, dramatic fashion that ended with Sorcha throwing her drink in Siobhan's face. I had spent a further six months very awkwardly in the middle of their spats. These days they maintained a cool tolerance of each other for my sake.

"She's buying an art gallery and wants me to help run art classes from it," I explained. "I'm just weighing my options."

"Well, if it's an option you're weighing, you'll need to speak to Colin," she said, sounding doubtful. "You can't go through your custody arrangement knowing it's a possibility and keep it from him."

"I know, I just..." I winced. "Not a great conversation to have."

"Still," she replied. "It's got to be done."

"You're being very calm about all of this," I said suspiciously.

I heard a snort of derision, and her tone was equally unimpressed. "Because it's not going to happen. First of all, where on earth would Sorcha get the money to buy property? She's spent the last ten years doing sod all."

"Christ, Awny, tell us what you really think," I rolled my eyes, bracing myself for another Sorcha-Is-Too-Irresponsible lecture. She usually averaged at two a year, but sometimes we got a bonus one if Sorcha posted something considerably silly on Instagram.

"And what, she's finally decided she wants to retire her party life and open a small business?" Siobhan scoffed. "I'm sure she's really thought every angle through and this isn't just another one of her ridiculous schemes."

I decided I didn't have half an hour to listen to Siobhan tire herself out, and quickly interjected, "Annie died."

Siobhan fell silent for a few moments. "Annie's dead?" she asked faintly.

"Yeah," I confirmed.

There was more silence. After a while, Siobhan asked, "How's she taking it?"

I thought to my conversation with Sorcha the night before. "It happened weeks ago and she didn't tell anyone back here. Sorted everything out herself, held the funeral with Annie's friends in Wales. She only told me last night. She's not ready to talk."

"Sounds like her," Siobhan said, unable to resist getting one last stab in. She sounded guilty when she said, "Sorry, that wasn't fair. Annie was a good person. I'm sorry Sorcha has lost her."

"Me too," I said, letting the spiteful comment go. "Listen, I've got to go, Sorcha and I are dropping Saskie off with Colin and Andrew, and then we're going to fly out to look at the property."

"There's an actual place?" my sister asked, surprised.

"Bye!" I resorted to the ancient art of just straight-up leaving when you didn't want to be involved in something.

*****

Andrew's house was... big. It already sucked to see your husband leave you for someone else. Leaving you for a model was worse. Leaving you for a model who's face you saw on adverts all over social media was way worse. The part that really got me, though, was that he was so damn nice about it all. His house was big, but it wasn't ostentatious. His car was nice, but it was chosen for functionality over flair. He clearly took care of himself, but he wasn't flashy or arrogant.