Chapter 6
Eliza
It’s a pretty decent round of applause, all things considered. I smile at the crowd of predominantly pot-bellied baldies and give them a little bow, before taking off my guitar strap and hopping down from the tiny platform that they like to call a stage.
‘The usual?’ Bob asks from behind the counter. I tend to stick around for one drink, but only because the manager is paying.
‘Sure.’ I give him a curt nod and prop my guitar up against the bar, tensing as I notice a certain someone approaching out of the corner of my eye.
‘That was good,’ Angus says.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask with shock.
He shrugs, amused. ‘I said I’d come.’
‘How did you know where I was playing?’
‘I got the details from your mum after you nicked off without telling me. Don’t you do any of your own songs any more?’
Bob plonks my half pint of beer down on the bar top and raises his chin at Angus.
‘Same, please,’ Angus says amiably. ‘Actually, make mine a pint.’
‘I’m not sticking around for long,’ I’m quick to point out, as Bob waddles off.
‘I’ll drink fast,’ he replies, shoving his hair back off his forehead. It won’t stay in that position for long.
‘So, why only covers?’ he asks of my set list.
‘It’s what they asked for,’ I reply with a shrug.
He nods thoughtfully and drops the subject. ‘Did you come by Metro?’
‘Yes,’ I reply.
‘I’ll give you a ride home,’ he says.
I raise one eyebrow. ‘In your shitmobile?’
He shrugs. ‘It’s a classic.’
This makes me snigger. The two of us have been known to go on and on like this.
‘So, Liza...’ he starts, resting one elbow on the bar top and staring at me with his freakishly beautiful eyes. My heart contracts. I wish he wouldn’t call me that. I love it when he calls me that. ‘What’s this crap about you leaving Manchester?’
I groan and look away.
‘Phoebe will be gutted,’ he says seriously.
‘Yeah, well, it’s not all about Phoebe.’
‘You’re the main reason I got her to move back here,’ he continues, unfazed by my comment. ‘She misses you. She wants to spend more time with you.’
‘She’ll get over it,’ I reply.
He leans in closer. ‘You know you’re her favourite, right?’
‘Bullshit.’ I can’t help but smile because this comment is ridiculous and he knows it. If anything, Phoebe is closer to Rose these days, not that she’d ever pick favourites. He returns my smile.
‘I thought you loved it here,’ he says gently.
My lips tug down at the corners. ‘I do.’ I feel downhearted, but the emotion morphs smoothly into annoyance. ‘Is this the only reason you came here, to pester me about doing what’s best for Phoebe?’
Angus looks wounded. ‘No, I came to see your gig. I haven’t seen you play for ages.’
I humph and turn back to the bar.
‘I’m only teasing.’ He elbows me in my ribs. ‘It’s up to you where you want to live.’
‘Good. Glad we’re agreed on that.’ I take a gulp of my drink.
Later, I stare out of the car window as Angus takes me back to Sale. I’ve lived in Greater Manchester for most of my life. I’ve never gone anywhere else or done anything of interest. I’m twenty-seven and I’ve got nothing to show for it. I am going to move to London, I think determinedly. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow and start flat hunting. I know Phoebe will be hurt. She’s been encouraging me for years to move to the Big Smoke to be near to her and Rose, but I couldn’t. And I can’t be near her now, either. Damn Angus for driving this wedge between us! This wedge that she doesn’t even know exists.
‘What is it?’ Angus asks, sensing the change in atmosphere. I’m angry, and he has always had an uncanny way of noticing, even when he’s not looking at me.
‘Nothing,’ I snap.
‘Liza...’
‘Don’t call me that!’
That shuts him up. Stupid man.
We ride the last few minutes in stressed silence. He pulls up on his driveway, cutting off the engine and turning to face me.
‘Thanks for the lift.’ I unclick my seatbelt and reach for the door handle.
‘Wait,’ he says with frustration.
I glare at him. ‘You know I’ve broken up with Dave, right?’
He swallows. ‘No, I didn’t.’ He shakes his head.
‘Well, it was a total nightmare.’ I’m overstating it. Dave was my boyfriend for about four months, but I was the one who ended it – he just clung on a little too hard. ‘I need a break from this place, alright? Get over it.’
‘Stop,’ he says, his no-nonsense tone making my mouth go dry.
A shiver runs down my spine as he gives me a hard stare.
‘Gah!’ I erupt, pulling myself together and getting out of the car.
He does the same, going around to the boot to retrieve my guitar case. I don’t meet his eyes as he hands it over.
‘I’m sorry about Dave,’ he says.
‘You thought he was a dickhead,’ I point out, looking up at him. They met a couple of months ago at Easter.
‘He was a dickhead.’ He nods definitively. ‘I hope you find someone nicer.’
‘Oh, piss off, Angus,’ I mutter.
‘Hey!’ He grabs my arm as I turn away. ‘I mean it.’
‘And I mean it, too. Piss off.’ I shake my arm free before thinking to glance quickly at my house. Rose’s bedroom light is off, I notice with relief.
‘Liza,’ he says gently, stepping towards me. I stare up at him, scared that if he hugs me, I’ll crumble. He makes a move to do just that, but a split-second before his arms come around my back, I stiffen my resolve and push him away.
‘Fine,’ he says flatly. ‘Have it your way.’
I stalk off to the sound of him locking his car and our feet crunching across the gravel towards our respective front doors.
But this is not having it my way. If I had it my way, we never would have met.
I don’t know what it was about Angus that drew all three of us to him. There was clearly something in his chemical make-up that was like a drug to us. If only there had been three of him, like there were three of us. Rose has swooned over him from the word go and she probably still fancies the pants off him. But deep down, I know that the reason I’ve grown less patient of my eldest triplet over the years is because I can see myself in her.
Screw Angus, and screw chemistry.
I go inside and only just manage to stop myself from slamming the front door behind me.