Chapter Ten
July 2009
Theo and Lydia had been lucky enough to land jobs soon after graduating. They were up-and-comers apparently, according to Theo’s mum, who was so proud of her boy and his girlfriend. They’d both found jobs in central London and it was the first time they would be officially living together. In their final year at university they’d probably shared a room five nights out of seven, but they’d never formally moved into a place of their own, and the day they’d found the studio apartment in Tower Hill had been exciting, despite its miniscule proportions: one room serving as the bedroom/lounge, a tiny kitchen, and a bathroom that had seen better days.
‘When’s your sister coming to visit?’ Theo asked one morning as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror running the razor up from his jawline to just below his cheeks, then rinsing it off in the sink full of water each time.
Lydia sat on the edge of the bathtub and ran a brush through her hair. ‘Next weekend. You don’t mind being pushed out, do you?’
‘Of my own home?’ He turned to Lydia and grinned. ‘Of course not. I’ll have a night with the boys. Josh and Carl will be up for a night out.’
‘Hmm. Josh and Carl live the high life and spend way too much money.’
‘I can look after myself.’ He grinned, pulled the plug and the water gurgled down the sink.
Lydia knew she’d scored big because she didn’t have to nag her boyfriend about washing away the pieces of hair or making sure the foam residue was all gone.
‘How long’s she staying?’ he asked.
‘Only the one night. I’m not sure my parents trust her in London for longer than that.’
‘She’s fourteen, I can understand their reservations.’ He kissed the top of her head and went through to the main room to find a shirt from the IKEA wardrobe they’d bought when they first moved in. ‘But you’ll look after her, and Sunday we’ll drive her back up to Yorkshire.’
Theo had secured parking near their Tower Hill apartment by renting a private garage, an expense he insisted was necessary. ‘We can get away at weekends, when we need to get out of the city and away from it all,’ he’d said. She’d argued that perhaps they should just hire a car every now and then, but his black Toyota was an over-generous gift from his dad when Theo landed his first job in the world of accounting and how could Lydia argue with that? Theo didn’t have the best relationship with his dad and Lydia still wasn’t totally sure why. There was the divorce, the new woman in his life, the fact he’d emigrated to the other side of the world. But whatever else there was, Theo was reluctant to talk about it. Lydia had finally been introduced to Graham at his going away party held at his home in Cambridge, where she’d first met Theo’s sister, Grace, very much the daddy’s girl but without anywhere near as much baggage about the man as Theo had. The party had gone smoothly, Graham was polite and welcoming and Theo had been cordial throughout, opting to drive them so Lydia could have a few glasses of champagne. On the way home from Cambridge that day, she’d asked Theo if he was upset at his dad leaving but he’d merely shrugged and that had been that. And sitting in the swish car that still smelt new as though it had only just been driven off the forecourt, Lydia knew you couldn’t buy your way into someone’s affections. But from where she was standing, Graham looked to be trying his best to do that.
True to his word, the weekend Imogen visited, Theo made himself scarce and left the girls to it. It didn’t take long for Imogen to lap up her sister’s lifestyle, revelling in her independence for the night, in a London flat away from her parents. And when Theo texted Lydia to say he was at the casino with the boys, Imogen was impressed. ‘It’s just so grown-up,’ she said again on the Sunday morning as they waited for him to come home.
Grown-up was one phrase Lydia could think of, but since they’d moved in here, in the tiniest of flats possible, they’d already discussed getting onto the property ladder as soon as they could, buying a place of their own as an investment, and the casino was never going to help them meet their goal.
Lydia pushed clothes into the washing machine and set the program to start. As the machine filled with water, her mind filled with the frustration that Theo wasn’t taking their goals quite as seriously as she was. Perhaps she’d have to make it one of their New Year’s wishes this year. She’d let him have his fun for now, not put the kibosh on his spending, and then they’d get serious come January.
When Theo arrived home, Imogen’s attention was solely on him and Lydia watched on, amused. Imogen had what she and Theo determined was a sort of fangirl crush. Theo could do no wrong, and treating them all to a slap-up lunch on their way up to Yorkshire that day was the icing on the cake for Lydia’s sister.
‘Have whatever you like,’ Theo told Imogen as the fourteen-year-old perused the menu at an old country hotel.
‘Dessert?’ Imogen looked hopeful.
‘I doubt you’ll fit it in.’ Lydia nodded to the table next to them where main courses had been served. The plates were the size of a tray and the portions more generous than they needed to be.
Each of them settled on the roast dinner choice and Theo, too delicate from last night with the boys, turned down the offer of a beer and for Lydia to drive.
‘What did you play at the casino?’ Imogen’s eyes lit up and Lydia wasn’t sure she liked this particular fascination with her boyfriend. Liking him and admiring his dress sense was one thing, but she didn’t want her to be captivated by the world of gambling.
Theo went through a list of the games they’d played, from blackjack and five-card draw to the roulette wheel.
‘How old do you have to be to get in?’ Imogen’s eyes twinkled with interest.
‘Older than fourteen,’ said Lydia firmly, putting an end to the topic when she asked Imogen about the upcoming Take That concert.
‘I’m so excited.’ Imogen beamed as their roast dinners arrived at the table.
‘Where’s the concert?’ Theo cut into his turkey like a man who was in dire need of a hangover cure and it made Lydia giggle inside.
‘Wembley.’
‘And when is it?’ Theo asked.
‘Two weeks’ time.’
He cut into a roast potato to let the heat escape. ‘Is your mum taking you?’
‘Taking me and picking us up. I’m going with Zara and Siobhan.’
‘How about next time, you give us some warning and I’ll take you all.’
‘Really?’ Her fork froze on its path from plate to mouth. ‘That would be so cool. Going to Wembley in a fancy car with someone who isn’t my mum. No offence, I love mum, but I’m fourteen and it’s a bit embarrassing.’
‘I get it,’ said Theo, winking at Lydia across the table. ‘We’ve all been that age.’
And Imogen did just that. The next time one of her favourite bands was performing, she was onto Theo before she’d even sorted out tickets. And the day he picked her up and ferried her to and from the event had cemented their relationship like a brother and sister, and he’d moved one step closer to Lydia’s family. At the time she’d never imagined it could ever be any other way, she’d never thought he would ever do anything to hurt her.