…later that night
As the showcase started to wind down, the playhouse seemed to sigh with relief. Most of the exhibitors had packed up; so had Buddies Café and the bar. All that remained were a few people in the ballroom enjoying a last waltz before the tea dance concluded.
Needing to rest her knee, Becca found a quiet alcove and sat down. She allowed her mind to drift back over the events of the evening. The kids’ ballet routine had been faultless, much to her surprise. They’d exceeded her expectations. The mayhem and distractions that hampered weekly classes had been replaced by nine focused mini prima ballerinas rising to the occasion.
The tappers had been great too. Not perfect, but entertaining. The audience had loved their routine. From the mismatched costumes to the bumping into each other onstage. The audience had laughed along, assuming it was a send-up. Several people had commented on the excellence of the tappers’ comic timing. There was no need to tell them it hadn’t been intentional. The important thing was the tappers had got through the routine and they’d enjoyed themselves.
The evening had been a turning point for her too. Her knee had ached throughout the routine, but it hadn’t felt weak. If anything, the pain had given her strength. From now on, dancing would be purely for pleasure. Like it had been when she was young. No more exhausting shows, demoralising auditions, or late nights in nameless cities. She wanted to lay down some roots and build a home in Brighton.
It was the first time since her career had ended that she’d felt excited about her future. Watching her students had filled her with an acute sense of satisfaction. She’d felt like a proud parent standing in the wings witnessing them overcome their insecurities. Teaching had challenged her. She’d had to develop new skills and overcome adversity, but the rewards were tenfold. Even before Carolyn had tracked her down and offered her co-management of the playhouse, she’d decided that whatever happened next, her future involved teaching.
She watched the dancers circle the ballroom. It’d been lovely to see so many people waltzing around the room. With the fairy lights twinkling and bouncing off the gold décor, the space had glowed.
Live music still hugged the air, the quartet of musicians from the Brighton Music Institution as reluctant to pack up as the players on Titanic. They were a talented bunch, even if they looked like the Marx Brothers in their ill-fitting charity shop tailcoats. It didn’t detract from the beauty of their playing.
A burst of laughter drew her attention to the dance floor. Mrs Busby and Dr Mortimer were enjoying a last dalliance before heading off on their cruise tomorrow. Aunty Ruby was dancing with Eddie, and Carolyn was dancing with her ex-husband. Watching Tom’s parents was a lesson in forgiveness. Carolyn’s illness had driven her husband away, and yet he still wanted to help her. In turn, she’d forgiven him for leaving her. Seeing them smiling and dancing showed that no matter what mistakes had occurred, bridges could be rebuilt.
Of course, the best part of the evening had been watching Jodi dancing with Leon. She’d had to stop herself running over and hugging them both. She couldn’t imagine they would have appreciated the intrusion. Instead, she’d watched from afar as they’d exchanged shy smiles and moved tentatively to the music, shifting from work colleagues to a couple on the brink of romance. Shyness had given way to playfulness, and all awkwardness was soon gone.
Her cousin was currently sitting across the ballroom with Leon. When she got up and left the room, Becca went after her. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Jodi all evening.
She caught up with her by the ice sculptures. ‘Who’d have thought we’d end up running the Starlight Playhouse together?’
Her cousin turned at the sound of Becca’s voice. ‘I know, right? It’s the stuff of dreams.’
They both squealed and rushed towards each other, dancing around like idiots. Becca felt a surge of joy. It’d been so long since she’d felt motivated by what lay ahead, and the best bit was, she was getting to do it with her cousin.
She hugged Jodi. ‘Nobody deserves this more than you. After everything you’ve been through, you’ve stuck at it and won through. I couldn’t be happier for you.’
Jodi hugged her back. ‘And you have a new dream too. Carolyn loves your ideas for making the playhouse more inclusive.’
Becca beamed. ‘We make quite a team, if I do say so myself.’ It was lovely to see her cousin so happy. ‘How do you think the showcase went?’
‘Brilliant. We’ve had loads of positive feedback. Elaine’s interested in hiring the art studio to run weekly pottery classes, and we’ve given out loads of flyers. Oh, and a few people have asked about adult ballet classes too.’
‘I’ll add it to the list.’ Becca was relishing the endless possibilities for expanding the playhouse. Assuming it stayed open. ‘How did the council react?’
Jodi grinned. ‘We won’t hear officially until next week, but they’re happy with the progress we’ve made since their last visit. The grant is safe.’
‘Yes!’ Becca punched the air. ‘Thank God, for that.’ She hooked her arm through Jodi’s. ‘And what about you and a certain bar manager? How are things going with him?’
Jodi blushed. ‘It’s early days, but so far so good. We had a long talk and cleared the air. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that he saved my arse today.’
Becca grinned. ‘You should’ve seen his face when he rushed into the theatre saying he needed help, and my tappers came up with the idea to re-enact the Fame number.’
Jodi laughed. ‘I was too traumatised to find it funny at the time, but that poor copper’s face. I really hope someone videoed it.’
‘Me too.’
The sound of approaching voices distracted them. Eddie and her mum were heading their way. ‘You left your wallet on the table,’ her mum said, handing it to Eddie.
Eddie chuckled. ‘What would I do without you, Ruby?’
Her mum stopped walking. ‘Now you come to mention it, that’s a very good question.’
Becca dragged Jodi behind the icicle statue. ‘I think things are about to get interesting,’ she whispered to a confused-looking Jodi.
When her mum spoke again she sounded hesitant. ‘I was wondering if…you’d like to have lunch sometime?’
Eddie tilted his head to one side. ‘I make it a point to have lunch all the time, Ruby, not just sometime.’
Her mum looked flustered. ‘What I meant was, would you like to have lunch with me sometime…as in a…a date.’
Jodi gasped.
Becca nudged her in the ribs. ‘Shush.’
A brief silence ensued. Eddie said, ‘A date?’
Even hidden behind the ice sculpture, Becca saw her mum roll her eyes. ‘Yes, Eddie, a date. As in two people sharing time together. I’m asking if you’d like to start dating.’
It was Becca’s turn to smother a laugh.
Eddie looked amused. ‘I thought we already were.’
Her mum’s expression was priceless. ‘What on earth made you think that?’
He seemed to consider this. ‘Well, we’re going on a cruise together, aren’t we? And we see each other every day, we have breakfast together, and watch TV.’
‘You call that dating?’ Her mum’s voice had shot up several notches.
Eddie frowned. ‘Don’t you?’
Jodi leant in and whispered, ‘He’s winding her up.’
Becca grinned. ‘I know.’
‘No, Eddie, I do not. That’s called friendship…companionship. It’s not romantic.’
‘Oh, right.’ Eddie scratched his chin. ‘And you think lunch would change that?’
Her mum growled. ‘Men!’
She went to walk off, but Eddie caught her arm. ‘Why are you so mad, Ruby?’
She swung around. ‘I’m mad, because you think we’re dating, and we are most definitely not dating. I mean, it’s not as if you’ve even kissed me.’
Eddie stepped towards her mum. ‘You want me to kiss you?’
‘Yes, Eddie, I want you to—’
Jodi gasped.
Becca was a little shocked herself. Eddie had some moves on him.
She turned to her cousin. ‘I think Mum and Eddie just started dating.’
Jodi mimed fanning her face. ‘I think so too. Are you okay with that?’
‘I won’t lie, it feels a little odd. I’m not used to seeing her with anyone other than my dad. But I want her to be happy, and Eddie’s a great guy. I’m pleased for her.’
Jodi hugged her. ‘How much longer do you think we’re going to have to stay hidden?’
Becca’s phone beeped. Blast!
Her mum jumped away from Eddie. ‘Is someone there?’
They’d been sprung.
Becca emerged from behind the sculpture, dragging her cousin with her. ‘Only us,’ she said, sheepishly. ‘Jodi and I were just admiring this exhibit. It’s a fascinating piece. Almost sensual in its design. Don’t you think, Jodi?’
Jodi nodded. ‘Very sensual. One might even say…intimate. Like two snowflakes kissing in the snow.’
Their collective giggling was met with a steely glare. ‘You’re not too old to be grounded, you know.’ Her mum tried to cover her blush with fake outrage.
Eddie put his arm around her. ‘Look on the bright side, Ruby. You don’t have to break the news to them now that Mummy’s dating.’
She sloshed him. ‘And you can pack it in, too. Don’t think I don’t know you were winding me up.’
Leon appeared from the ballroom. ‘There you are,’ he said, coming over. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to. Everything okay?’ His arm went around Jodi’s shoulders.
Becca looked between her mum and Eddie. And then her cousin and Leon.
‘Everything’s perfect,’ she said. She couldn’t be more pleased that they were all moving forwards with their lives. The pinch in her chest was a result of too much dancing, nothing more.
And then her phone beeped again. Two messages from Tom.
I’m in the treehouse. x
Don’t forget your torch. x
She blinked at her phone. What on earth was Tom doing in the treehouse? She glanced up. ‘Are you guys okay to lock up? There’s someone I need to see.’
Her mum raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this someone six foot with blond hair?’
Becca nodded. There was no point denying it. ‘Are you okay with that?’
Her mum sighed. ‘I suppose it was inevitable.’
Jodi pointed to the exit. ‘What are you waiting for? Go.’
Becca ran for the door, just as the grandfather clock in reception struck twelve. Bloody hell, she felt like Cinderella!
The moment she stepped outside the playhouse, a shower of glitter filled the night sky with a loud bang. The fireworks on the Palace Pier had started. A fitting end to the festival.
As she ran across the courtyard and down the steps leading to the grounds, another explosion lit up the sky. This one was blue and gold. Lights flickered then dispersed, fading into blackness. They seemed closer, as if somehow Becca could reach out and touch them.
As the lights from the playhouse faded, she switched on her torch function. The ground surrounding the treehouse was boggy and impossible to wade through. Trying not to end up face down in the mud when it was daylight was a challenge. In the pitch dark, it was virtually impossible.
She used the series of wooden pathways with rope handles to aid her. They’d been built on top of the muddy ground to make the treehouse more accessible, but they were unstable and precarious.
Another explosion filled the sky. Sprays of silver and purple glittered above.
A faint light appeared in the distance. Tom was standing on the treehouse balcony holding a lantern. She couldn’t imagine he’d summoned her here to discuss business. At least, she hoped not. Still, she wouldn’t get her hopes up.
‘You could have chosen a better meeting place,’ she yelled, trying to centre her balance. ‘Climbing into the attic would’ve been preferable.’
‘Mind your footing,’ he yelled. ‘There are some slats missing.’
‘Oh, great. Like this isn’t difficult enough.’ Thank heavens she had good core stability. ‘I hope you’re going to rescue me if I fall in? I’m wearing a new dress.’
‘The red one with the frilly top and low neckline?’
She grabbed a rope handle. ‘That’s the one. If I’d known I’d be climbing trees tonight, I’d have changed outfits.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t.’
Another firework exploded above.
‘How are you getting on?’
‘Piece of cake,’ she said, and then her feet parted company. Her body flailed as she tried to hold on to the rope handles. She narrowly avoided landing in the mud. ‘Are you laughing?’
‘Of course not.’
Liar.
Another firework crackled and fizzed.
‘My mother tells me you’ve accepted the offer of co-managing the playhouse?’
Her excitement had yet to wear off. ‘I still can’t believe it.’
‘She loved your ideas for expanding the place.’ He waited until she’d stepped onto the last section. ‘I know she says she doesn’t want the stress of running the place, but it would be great if she could still be involved. You know what they say about idle hands.’
‘I’m way ahead of you. How do you think she’d feel about teaching art to people leaving rehab?’
A few seconds passed before he spoke. ‘I think she’d love it. That’s a great idea.’
‘Good.’ She looked up at the balcony. Tom was leaning over the edge holding the lantern. ‘Do I get a sonnet?’
He laughed. ‘No, but you do get a lantern. I’ve left it by the stairwell.’
She pushed open the door. It had been twelve years since she’d been inside the treehouse. Nothing much had changed. The rattan table and chairs remained downstairs, along with a small generator providing electricity for the fridge. There were no lights, only lanterns. Heat came in the form of a log-burner, which was lit. She was grateful. The weather was mild, but it was November nonetheless.
She picked up the lantern and climbed the stairs. ‘The tea dance went well,’ she said, her skirt brushing against the sides of the narrow staircase. ‘It was a shame you missed it.’
‘I hear my parents danced together.’
‘They did. It was lovely.’ She angled the lantern so she could see Tom waiting at the top. His blond hair was messy and he wore a hoodie over his red Starlight T-shirt. ‘How do you feel about them becoming friends again?’
‘Weird. I thought Mum was only doing it to force me into forgiving him. But I realise she’s genuinely okay with what he did. I guess if she’s willing to forgive him, I should too. If only for her sake.’
The stairs creaked beneath her.
Tom offered her his hand. ‘Thanks for having a go at him, by the way. Whatever you said, it worked. He wants to help me set up my law practice in Brighton.’
She took his hand and let him guide her up the last two steps. ‘I’m pleased for you.’
Arguing with Harvey hadn’t been fun, but if it resulted in Tom’s father supporting him, then it had been worth it. She wasn’t a fan of Harvey Elliot, but she knew it would be better for Tom if they could put their differences aside.
She reached the top. ‘I’m not sure which was more surreal, seeing your parents dancing together, or my mum smooching with Eddie.’
Tom looked shocked. ‘They smooched?’
‘Intimately.’ She let go of his hand and looked around. The layout upstairs hadn’t changed either. It was compact with barely enough room for a double bed. Glass doors led onto a balcony, providing the perfect view of the fireworks. The treehouse was basic, but it was a far cry from camping alfresco.
Two bottles of wine were sitting on the floor next to two glasses and a portable stereo. A thick blanket covered the air bed, which was inflated.
She looked at Tom. ‘Expecting company?’
He looked embarrassed.
She moved past him and picked up a bottle of wine. ‘Still, now I’m here it seems a shame to waste a perfectly good bottle of wine.’ She read the label. ‘I say perfectly good.’ She turned to look at him. ‘It’s non-alcoholic. Are you abstaining to help Carolyn?’
He unzipped his hoodie. ‘Not really. She’ll have to get used to being around booze. But if we’re going to run a programme for people leaving rehab then we’ll need a decent selection of soft drinks too.’
‘Fair enough.’ She unscrewed the cap. ‘Maybe we could serve both?’ She poured two glasses. ‘And you never know, it might be delicious.’ She handed him a glass. ‘Here’s to a successful showcase, and winning over the council.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ He clinked glasses with her. ‘Cheers.’
They simultaneously took a sip, grimaced, and then laughed.
‘Or maybe not,’ she said, putting her glass down.
Outside, the fireworks continued.
She walked onto the balcony. ‘It’s such a great view from up here.’
He joined her. ‘When the sky lights up you can see the Palace Pier.’
She strained to see where he was pointing. ‘You’re right, you can.’ She let the moment linger, unwilling to break their relaxed humour too soon. The air was chilly, but she didn’t mind. She was content to breathe in the scent of burning wood below and Tom next to her. He always smelled so good. ‘I think it’s about time you told me how you financed the showcase.’
He took a sip of wine, frowned and placed the glass on the floor. ‘I took out a loan.’
She’d thought as much. ‘That was risky. You could’ve lost the lot.’
He turned to her. ‘I knew how much it meant to you.’ His expression was earnest. ‘And the future of the playhouse means a lot to me too. I realised it was riskier not to try something. You and Jodi were right when you said we couldn’t keep going as we were.’
‘Using your own money was still a big gamble.’
He shrugged. ‘It paid off.’
There was no denying Tom Elliot was a good man.
She broke eye contact and resumed watching the fireworks. It was easier to think without the impact of his intense gaze.
‘I’m sorry I believed you capable of theft all those years ago.’
She turned sharply. ‘What made you bring that up?’
He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. ‘A conversation I had with Jodi tonight. She told me you didn’t steal anything. It was her.’
And there it was. Out in the open. ‘Why would she tell you that?’
He shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask her. But she said she didn’t want there to be a barrier between us anymore.’ He removed his hands from his pockets. ‘I’m sorry I believed you were guilty.’
His words stung, but could she really blame him for thinking she was guilty? She’d never denied it. On the contrary, she’d allowed everyone to believe she was guilty. Even her parents. Tom hadn’t behaved any differently to anyone else. And yet she’d expected more from him. Was that unfair?
‘We all make mistakes,’ she said, stepping away from him.
‘But you were right,’ he said, closing the gap between them. ‘I should’ve trusted my gut and believed in you. I shouldn’t have accepted what my dad said. I should’ve had the decency to talk to you face-to-face.’ He continued moving towards her. ‘And most importantly, I shouldn’t have walked away. I acted appallingly. I’m truly sorry.’
She’d backed into the glass door behind, cutting off any means of escape. ‘Maybe I didn’t do Jodi any favours by taking the blame,’ she admitted. ‘Maybe she would’ve changed her ways earlier if she’d been charged instead of me? At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. Now?’ She shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
His body was almost touching hers, one hand resting on the door behind. ‘You were protecting your cousin. I get that.’
His face was breathtakingly close. She could see the beginnings of blond stubble forming on his jawline. ‘But I lost you in the process.’
Silence descended, broken only by the crackle of another firework. Neither of them moved. Only air separated them. She could see the torment in his eyes. The way his hair lifted in the breeze. His eyes travelled over her face, her shoulders, her chest, absorbing every curve, every blemish. He reached out and stroked her arm. ‘You’re cold.’
She was, but that wasn’t the cause of her shaking. Her clumsiness might be under control, but he still had the ability to derail her. She ducked under his arm and went inside.
He followed, closing the doors behind him.
He crouched down and pressed play on the stereo. Ed Sheeran began singing ‘Perfect’.
‘Fitting,’ he said, standing and offering her his hand. ‘I loved watching you dance tonight. I’d forgotten how mesmerising you are.’
She took his hand, allowing him to pull her close.
‘It reminded me of watching you all those years ago,’ he said, sliding one arm around her waist. ‘I was captivated. I still am.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘You’ve always brought out the best in me, Becca. You stand up to me and challenge me. You never let me settle.’
As she looked at his earnest expression, she realised she’d been so hurt by his betrayal that she’d forgotten what an honourable and decent man he was. Even at eighteen, he’d shown extraordinary kindness and tolerance when dealing with Carolyn, and resilience and stoicism when on the receiving end of Harvey’s rants. Maybe it was time to forgive him?
His gaze hadn’t let up. ‘I love you, Becca Roberts. I think I always have.’
Her breath hitched. It had felt like forever since she’d heard those words. She wanted to savour the way they sounded: soft, sincere and heartfelt.
His blue eyes searched hers, laced with uncertainty, as though everything rested on what happened next. ‘I’m staying in Brighton so I can lead the life I want. I’m tired of keeping people at arm’s length, afraid of letting them close. I was so angry when Dad left, but I behaved no better. I walked away when things got tough, just like he did. But I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ll never give up again. I want us to be together. I want the chance to make amends.’
She held his gaze. ‘Just to clarify…you want us to forget everything that’s happened in the past and pick up where we left off twelve years ago?’
His eyes briefly closed. ‘I’m asking a lot, I know. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—’
‘I love you.’ The words tumbled out before she had the opportunity to assimilate her thoughts. But her shock was short-lived. She’d spoken the truth. She loved him. She’d never loved anyone else. It was time to stop pretending otherwise.
He looked stunned. ‘You love me?’
She reached up on tiptoes to kiss him. The feel of his warm lips against hers filled her with a rush of joy. She ran over to the airbed and jumped on it, making it bounce. ‘Come on, then?’
‘Just like that? No arguments? No making me beg?’
She gave him a playful smile. ‘Well, if you’re having second thoughts—’
‘I’m not.’ He ran over and landed next to her, sending her flying into the air. The sight of his dimples creasing his cheeks made her feel like she was home at last.
They collapsed in a fit of giggles, which turned to heated cuddling, which morphed into frantic fumbling, resulting in them rolling around the bed like two sex-starved teenagers, knocking heads and sending the lantern flying.
The years melted away. They’d gone full circle. Ending up back where they’d started twelve years earlier. Lying on the squeaky mattress in his dad’s treehouse…and snogging.