‘Where’ve you been?’ Ella yelled, as she ran down the stairs.
‘I’ve got your bag,’ Lou called out, turning straight into the kitchen.
‘I know!’ Ella said. She followed Lou into the kitchen. ‘I really need my phone.’
Lou had put Ella’s bag down on the breakfast island and Ella immediately started rooting through it for her phone. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘I went for a drink after work. What’s up with you?’
Ella pulled her phone out, half hoping for a message from Nick, but at the same time scared of what it would say. There was nothing.
‘Fuck,’ she muttered.
Lou was drinking milk straight from the bottle.
‘We need to talk about that,’ Ella said, pointing. ‘But I need to tell you some other stuff first.’
‘What?’ Lou wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
‘OK,’ Ella said, taking a breath. ‘OK. So.’
‘Is it something bad?’ Lou asked, frowning.
‘Not … bad. But. Basically I didn’t tell you something. And now I need to tell you. And you’re probably going to be pissed off that I didn’t tell you. But I had a good reason and –’
‘Just tell me!’ Lou said. ‘You’re stressing me out.’
‘OK. OK.’ Ella fiddled with her phone, then put it face-down on the table. ‘OK.’
‘Ella!’
‘Sorry. OK. So Dylan Jewell is my brother.’ She wrinkled her nose. She really hadn’t wanted to just blurt it out.
Lou burst out laughing. ‘Fuck off.’
‘No. I’m serious. He’s my brother. I know I should’ve told you. I wanted to. Loads of times. But I just … I didn’t want to be Dylan Jewell’s sister here. I wanted people to get to know me. So I’m sorry that I lied, but –’
‘Why are you telling me now?’ Lou said. She still looked incredulous.
‘Oh, right. Yeah. Because he’s upstairs.’
‘Fuck off,’ Lou said again. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah. He’s kind of going through some stuff and he wanted to get away. I didn’t know he was coming.’
‘Is he staying?’ Lou said, heading for the door.
‘Just tonight.’
‘I’m still expecting this to be a joke, OK?’ Lou said, as she walked up the stairs. ‘I want you to know that even though I’m going up to have a look, I don’t actually believe you. I haven’t fallen for it. OK?’
‘Noted,’ Ella said, smiling.
‘Holy shit,’ Lou said, stopping in the doorway to the lounge.
Dylan turned round on the sofa and smiled at her. ‘Hi. I’m Dylan. You must be Lou.’
‘Holy shit,’ Lou said again. She crossed the room and held out her hand. Dylan shook it.
‘Good to meet you,’ he said. ‘Ella talks about you a lot.’
‘I need a cig,’ Lou said. ‘Do you smoke?’
Dylan shook his head. ‘No. Not really. Sometimes. I –’
‘Want one?’ Lou said, holding the pack of Marlboro Lights out to him.
He looked over at Ella.
‘Fucksake, Dyl, you’re a grown man. If you want a fag, have a fag.’
Dylan stood up and followed Lou out onto the terrace, the door squeaking obnoxiously as she slid it open.
‘I’m totally telling Mum though,’ Ella said, under her breath.
Paige grinned at her. ‘He’s nice. Your brother.’
‘No,’ Ella said.
‘What?’
‘He’s my brother. He’s in a band. He’s got a tattoo. He was on a reality show.’
‘Holy shit,’ Issey whispered, eyes wide. ‘He’s the holy grail.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Ella said. ‘Out of bounds.’
‘Hey, Els,’ Dylan called from the terrace. ‘Remember when you were going out with Oliver Hall and I said I was going to tell him to keep his hands to himself and you said it wasn’t up to me to …’ He did air quotes. ‘“Police your sexuality”?’
‘Not the same,’ Ella said.
‘Exactly the same,’ Dylan said.
‘It does seem fairly similar,’ Paige said.
‘Shut up, all of you.’ Ella stood up. ‘I need to go and phone Nick.’ She turned and looked at Dylan. ‘Will you be OK?’
‘God,’ Dylan said, cigarette still in his mouth. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Don’t worry, Ella,’ Liane said. ‘We’ll look after your brother.’
‘Your hot, tattooed, brother-in-a-band,’ Paige added.
‘I hate all of you,’ Ella said.
Nick’s phone went straight to voicemail. Ella hung up. And then pressed redial. She should just leave a message telling him it was her brother and – She hung up again. There was too much to say to leave a message. He probably wouldn’t believe Dylan was her brother anyway. Or that the boy in her room had been her brother. She wouldn’t believe it if the situation was reversed. If Nick had phoned and said ‘Hey, guess what, my brother’s the singer in one of the most famous bands on the planet’, she’d think it was a wind-up. She definitely needed to actually talk to him. She opened her texts. The last one from Nick said: ‘Bored. Miss you. Wish you were here. You could help with the shelf-stacking. Not a euphemism. (Or is it?)’ She read it in his voice. His voice was so clear in her head. He always sounded like he was smiling. It was one of the things she liked the most about him. God, she hated picturing him unhappy, it just seemed wrong.
She tried ringing again. And then went back to texts. But she had no idea what to say. ‘It’s not what you think’ was ridiculous. Clichéd. Like something from EastEnders. ‘We need to talk’ sounded too ominous. Same for ‘I need to see you’. But she wanted to know if his phone was on. If it was off, she might as well give up for now and go and see him in the morning. Although she hated the idea of him being upset overnight. Fuck.
She typed ‘Nick’ and sent it before she could change her mind.
Underneath it said ‘Delivered’ but it didn’t change to ‘Read’.
Muttering ‘shit shit shit’ to herself, she went back upstairs to the lounge.