Three

 

Despite the makeover Seph and Ben had given the converted warehouse they called home, it still clung onto its industrial roots. It had dust-prone exposed brick walls, heavy pipes that ran across the ceiling and was nowhere near as trendy or luxurious as other conversions she’d seen on Pinterest. But it felt like home. It felt safe. At least, it did when Ben was around. Right now, the air around her was still and stale, undisturbed for the best part of a week, and felt about as welcoming as the house she’d just ran away from. If only she could’ve walked through the door to hear the music blaring from Ben’s editing suite as he worked instead of coming back to silence. She missed him. Especially on a day where she badly needed a hug, followed by a glass of wine and someone to talk things over with.

Seph sighed and picked up the pile of mail. Bills, pizza delivery leaflets and yet more bills. She dropped them onto the windowsill without a second glance. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything other than the revelation that had just knocked her sideways. Everything was a lie. Her mum, her dad. Everything. And what was worse, was that they were the ones who’d always gone on and on about the importance of honesty. The whole thing made her feel sick. Physically, stomach-achingly sick. It felt like some twisted dream that she couldn’t wake herself up from.

She stood with her hands on her hips, looking around for something to do to suppress the fury bubbling under her skin. Maybe she should go out and meet with some friends. It had to be better than sitting here alone all night with all this madness going around and around in her head, but then again, she wasn’t in the mood to talk or pretend that everything was okay. She didn’t have the strength for it. In fact, all she really felt capable of doing was passing out and forgetting this whole day had ever happened.

She grabbed a corkscrew and a bottle of wine from the fridge before heading into the bedroom, ignoring the black and white photographs hanging on the walls as she went. Laurel had taken so many over the years, and Seph had selected a few of her favourites to be reprinted. She’d always loved her mum’s photographs - a mixture of family memories and holiday snaps that wouldn’t look out of place in a National Geographic magazine.

Seph slammed the bedroom door behind her, climbed into bed fully clothed and tugged off the band holding her hair up in its trademark scruffy bun. The room was warm, but she pulled the duvet up around herself before snuggling down into its comfort. It was no substitute for the warmth of Ben’s body, but it would have to do. The glass bottle was deliciously cold and inviting in her hands, and promised to give her exactly what she wanted. She only had to drink half and she’d be able to forget about her mum and dad and Nico.

She uncorked the wine and stopped for a second. The only thing she’d eaten that day was a croissant at Avignon airport. She ought to get some of the cheese she’d brought back from France. She’d salivated over them in the market, including one that was beautifully stinky and blue. There were crackers in the cupboard and it would do the wine justice. It would also make her look less sad and alcoholic. Seph shrugged and put the bottle to her lips, taking a long swig. She was alone. Who cared what she looked like? The wine was tasty, and she savoured its sharpness as an alternative to picking up her phone again. What good would looking at the photo Nico had sent do, anyway? She’d already spent the entire journey home staring at it, non-stop.

Seph had always thought she’d inherited certain traits from Tony, not the strange guy looking back at her from a photo taken years ago. She’d had no reason to think otherwise. She was just as olive-skinned as Tony was, and they had the same almond-shaped, slightly upturned brown eyes. Not to mention the little fingers that seemed just that tiny bit too small in comparison to the rest. Or so she’d thought. Now she knew it couldn’t possibly be true. The similarities she’d thought they shared could only have existed in her imagination.

Seph shook her head and took another long slug of wine. It had been an absolute car-crash of a day, and all she wanted was for it to be over.

 

*

 

Early the next morning, she jolted awake and snapped her eyes open. Light streamed in through the blinds she’d left open last night and she squinted against it with her heart beating wildly in her chest from a dream she couldn’t remember. She rolled onto her back and puffed out a sigh, rubbing her hands across her face. The wine had gone down a little too easily and, somewhat predictably, she felt awful. Seph frowned at the sound of a door closing in the warehouse and strained her ears for a second. She sat up, wincing at the pain in her head. Ben’s battered boots on the floor. Even without their owner wearing them, they somehow embodied his character - stylishly scruffy, dependable and snug. He was back. She smiled to herself before quickly remembering the empty bottle of wine, but before she could grope around under the covers to find it, the bedroom door opened.

‘You’re up.’ Ben grinned, standing there completely naked and rubbing a towel in his hair.

His time in Tangiers had given his conker-brown skin a glowing tan and droplets of water still clung to him from the shower. Seph was hit by a mixture of desire, followed by a sense of self-disgust. There he was, all fresh and clean, while she was sweaty from sleeping in her clothes with unmistakably bad wine breath. Still, he didn’t seem to notice or care when he slung his towel onto the floor and leapt onto the bed, pinning her down.

‘You’re all wet,’ she squealed as tiny droplets of cold water fell onto her skin.

Ben laughed, shaking his curly afro in her face and even though she protested, Seph was filled with relief. He was home and she was no longer alone. His being back didn’t change the drama that made her drink herself to sleep, but he had an ever-effervescent energy and the ability to make a molehill out of a mountain. Just having him there made the sting from Nico’s email a little easier to bear.

He looked down at her, his brown eyes shining with mischief, and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. ‘Hey, you.’

His lips were soft and reassuring and, as they pressed the space between her eyebrows, Seph’s throat tightened. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging onto him tightly.

Ben laughed again as she held him close. ‘I should go away more often.’ He manoeuvred himself so his face was only centimetres away from hers. ‘What’s going on? You okay?’

Seph went to open her mouth before remembering her hung-over morning breath. She rolled onto her side, releasing him from her grip. ‘I’ll just go quickly brush my teeth.’

In the bathroom, she berated herself for getting so drunk last night. After all, it had done nothing to help except making her pass out. She hadn’t wanted to be hung-over for when Ben returned, or the meeting with her mentor at lunchtime. She brushed her teeth quickly, vowing not to do it again. Things were stressful enough as it was without having to deal with the internal shakiness that always came with hangovers too.

With fresh breath, she went back to the bedroom, automatically picking up Ben’s towel from the floor and hung it over the door. It was one of his more annoying habits and she could never understand why he couldn’t just hang it up to dry like a normal person. But then again, he always went around collecting the half-drunk cups of coffee she’d make and then forget about. They made a good team.

‘Heavy night?’ he asked, holding up the empty bottle of wine. He looked distinctly unimpressed, but she couldn’t really blame him. She felt the same way.

Seph groaned and climbed across the bed to sit next to him. She laid her head against his shoulder. ‘You have no idea. How was Tangiers?’

‘Hot and dusty.’ He took her hand and held it in his lap. ‘We had two tiny camper vans for the seven of us, one of which broke down twice. It’s good to be home.’ He yawned loudly. ‘How was France? Are you cured, now?’

He didn’t know about her panic attack in Bicester Village, so why would he ask a question like that?

Seph frowned, looking up at him. ‘Cured from what?’

‘Whatever it is that’s been making you stomp around like the devil for the last few weeks.’

Her jaw slacked open. ‘I have not.’

‘I think you’ll find you have. I mean, I’ve heard of artists being moody and everything but…’ He laughed, easing the sting of his words. ‘You’ve been the poster girl for it lately.’

‘Have I?’

‘You have.’ He smiled matter-of-factly but dropped a kiss onto her shoulder.

Had she really been that bad? She’d thought she’d done a good job of hiding how stressed out she’d felt.

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I think I’m just feeling the pressure to get this series done.’

‘You’ll be finished soon.’

‘I suppose,’ she replied with a small sigh.

‘Good. And you’d better believe I’m going to start spending my brownie points when the exhibition starts and things get back to normal.’

He grinned, but she couldn’t return it. The weight of yesterday’s revelations was still too heavy in her mind and she knew she’d need to bring it up eventually.

‘Whatever normal even means anymore.’ She grimaced. ‘I got some news yesterday.’

‘Good or bad?’

Seph reached across him to get her phone from the bedside table. ‘It’s easier if you just read it yourself.’

‘Read what?’

She didn’t reply. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, so she handed the phone to him instead.

‘Bloody hell,’ he said after quickly scanning it.

‘I know,’ she replied, her voice as flat as she felt inside.

‘Seph, this is…’ He shook his head and took her hand, linking her fingers through his. ‘You found this out yesterday?’

‘Yep. Right before we were about to start the dinner Mum cooked for my birthday.’

‘Is this why you sank a bottle of wine last night?’

Seph flicked her eyes down into her lap.

‘You should have called,’ he continued.

‘You were at work.’

‘So?’ He unthreaded his fingers from hers and lifted his arm, creating a space for her to snuggle into his shoulder. ‘I’d rather you do that than be here alone, drinking yourself to sleep.’

The sound of his heart steadily drumming and the weight of his arm across her shoulders were reassuring, just as she’d known they would be.

Seph sighed heavily. ‘I can’t believe they lied, and for so long.’

‘They must have had their reasons.’

‘Dad knew about it, too. Tony, I mean.’ She frowned, suddenly confused about what to call the man who’d raised her. ‘He adopted me when I was a baby. Mum said they hadn’t meant to lie about it. That it just happened that way.’

The now familiar burn of anger scraped at her throat. Lying to your child about their true parentage wasn’t something that could just happen, not in her eyes. No matter which way she thought about it, Seph came to the conclusion that it would’ve been easier to tell the truth instead of keeping up a lie every single day.

‘That’s not all,’ she continued.

‘There’s more?’

Seph couldn’t help but crack a smile at his tone of voice. Even in the middle of a crisis, he managed to keep things light.

‘He’s got bipolar disorder. Which, according to Mum means I shouldn’t trust a word he says.’

‘Yeah, but that kind of thing can be fixed with meds, right?’ Ben asked. ‘My cousin had an ex with that years ago.’

Seph shrugged, playing with the covers draped across their legs. ‘That’s what I said. But Mum said he’d ruin my life, and that’s why she’s kept him out of it.’

He whistled the air out of his mouth. ‘That’s some heavy stuff, Seph. Are you going to reply to him?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied, lifting his arm from her shoulders so that she could sit upright again, resting her back against the wall. ‘I don’t even know how to deal with Mum and Dad right now, let alone him. What if I hate him? Or if Mum and Dad hate me if I do decide to meet him?’

‘They’re your parents, they’re going to love you no matter what you do. Plus, you don’t owe this guy anything. Nobody says you even have to like him, let alone meet with him.’

‘I know, but what if I do? What if we meet up and really get on, like a proper father and daughter? What then?’

‘Well, then you’ll have two dads who love you instead of just one, which is more than most people get.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’ She sighed.

Was she being ungrateful? Ben made it sound like it could be something good, having an extra parent around, but the news still made her stomach turn, and it didn’t take away the strong feeling of betrayal.

‘Since we’re sharing family secrets,’ Ben said, ‘did I ever tell you about my great-granddad?’

Seph shook her head.

‘Years ago, my mum decided to start researching our ancestry. Turns out that my great-granddad had a whole other family back in Barbados that nobody knew about. He’d left them behind to sail to England and find his fortune.’

‘And did he?’

Ben laughed. ‘No. He found my great-grandma instead and never left.’

‘Didn’t your mum want to try to contact the family he’d left behind?’

‘She thought about it, but in the end she decided not to. They’re technically our family too but who wants to deliver news like that? They probably thought he died or something. Maybe it was better to let them think that instead of destroying their memories of him with the truth.’ He looked at Seph and squeezed her hand. ‘I know it’s not nearly the same as what you’ve got going on with your dad, but every family has their secrets. That’s life.’

Seph nodded. ‘You never know what goes on behind closed doors. That’s what Mum always used to say.’

‘And she’s right. Between that and my cousin Selina, I reckon we’re almost as messed up as yours.’

Seph whacked his arm, smiling. She knew all about his infamous cousin who’d found herself at the centre of a social media revenge porn scandal. Seph followed her travel blog, but had yet to meet her in person.

‘I’m so glad you’re home,’ she said, threading her arm through Ben’s.

‘Me too.’ He smiled.

She was so grateful for him, with every fibre of her being. She’d never lived with a boyfriend before. She’d always been protective of her independence. It was crucial, especially when she was working on a series and her working hours became erratic, but life with Ben seemed to be perfectly in sync. After meeting almost over a year ago, they’d moved in together. Three months in, and Seph had no complaints. They both worked from home and went about their days, weaving around each other like a pair of dancers who’d already spent a lifetime rehearsing together. It didn’t matter if they were in a group of friends on a night out, snuggled on the sofa or in the park behind their home, reading in companionable silence. Things always seemed just that bit more manageable with him around.

‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ she said, looking at him. ‘Turns out I’m half-Greek.’

Ben looked back at her with raised eyebrows. ‘Well that I wasn’t expecting.’

‘Me neither.’

‘Explains the name, though. You’re the only Persephone I know.’

Seph smiled ironically. ‘Daughter of Zeus, wife of Hades. Talk about a life fated for drama.’

Ben turned and searched her face with his eyes. They were like scanners and always managed to cut through to the truth of things.

‘Not that I’m wishing for any more earth shattering news but, no more secrets, okay?’ Ben creased his eyebrows. ‘I’m serious. And no more drinking yourself to sleep. It bugs me that you did that instead of just calling me.’

She hadn’t thought it would be such a big issue. It wasn’t as if it was something she did all the time. Seph looked at him, taking in every detail as if she were drawing a picture of him in her mind. She traced his face with her eyes, letting them follow the path from his smooth forehead, down over his nose and the edges of his lips. He brought the tip of his nose to nudge against hers and she smiled, bringing her lips to his. His breath was warm and minty fresh, and the light rushing sensation of it sent a shiver up the back of her neck.

‘Deal?’ He prompted, tucking a finger under her chin and bringing her face even closer.

She nodded. ‘Deal.’

Her lips brushed across his and for the first time since yesterday, Seph pushed all thoughts of her parents and Nico from her mind.