Page 19 of Crashing Into You

She glances at me. “I’m good,” she says, with a smile. “Loving life and all that. Now, are we going on the Railway before we go?”

“Of course we are,” I say. “And then fairyfloss. Just like old times.”

But a short while later, after we’ve rattled around the old track, taking in the view, I can’t deny the curl of apprehension in my chest. I came back because Mum asked me to, because she’s worried about Mil. And despite appearances, I can’t help but feel the same, though I tell myself it’s just a holdover from all we went through. As Mil stands outside the famous grinning park entrance, a stick of pink fluffy fairyfloss in hand, and I take her photo, I wonder whether Mum is just being paranoid. This shining girl, her smile wide, is miles from where she was a year ago. I’m sure everything is fine.

Lunch at Mum’s house is a typical affair. Pies and sausage rolls, sandwiches loaded with meat and salad, caramel tarts and cream for dessert.

“Jesus, Mum, were you expecting more people to join us?” I lean back in my chair, rubbing my full stomach.

“I’m slipping into a food coma,” Millie groans, reaching for another caramel tart. “But these are so nice.”

“You both need to eat,” Mum says, bustling around the bright kitchen diner. The little cottage in Richmond is where Millie and I grew up. Mum bought it years ago after Dad died, moving us from a bigger house nearby. As soon as I had the money, I paid off the mortgage, so she no longer had that worry. It’s the least I could do after all she did for us. Now all she worries about is Millie.

The house still looks the same, apart from the kitchen extension on the back, opening to a small paved courtyard. Mum seems smaller, though, more frail. She’s only in her late fifties, but I suppose the past few years haven’t been easy for her. Again, I feel that pang of guilt for not being there as much as I should have.

Still, as she bustles around in the kitchen, making tea, she’s still the same old Mum. She’s petite and pretty, like Millie– I get my height and build from our dad– and she has the same deep green eyes that Mil and I both have. She’s a powerhouse of a woman, working as a nurse while studying part-time and raising two kids as a single mum. I don’t know how she did it, really. But she did. She made the most of what Dad had left us, making sure Millie and I didn’t want for anything, supporting me when I was starting out on the surf circuit, paying for Millie to go to college.

“If I eat anything else I’ll burst,” I say, pushing my chair back from the table. I take our plates over to the dishwasher, brushing Mum away when she tries to take them from me. I put my hands on her shoulders and steer her towards the table. “You sit, Mum. I’ll sort these dishes.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she says.

“I know,” I say. “But you didn’t bring me up to let everyone else do the work while I sat around, did you?”

“I guess not,” she says, as she sits down. “Well, maybe you can tell me all about this girlfriend of yours while you do the dishes.”

Claire

I sat at the table for a long time after Bryce left, my coffee growing cold as I stared out to sea. It had made so much sense when he’d suggested it, sitting in my kitchen, light catching the flecks of gold in his hair.

How would you feel about being my girlfriend?

I head outside, leaning against the deck railing. Surfers are out at the nearby point, dark shapes bobbing in the waves. I still have no idea how I feel to be honest. But I can’t help remembering how safe Bryce made me feel, first at the pub when he defended me from Simon, then in the surf when he held me. I thought I’d found safety in Simon, but look how that turned out. This is different, though. I can’t really figure out why. But it’s something deep, something real. Like a shield around me.

I’ve had to sign an NDA, though. Jeff, Bryce’s manager, called him immediately after seeing the post on Insta. Bryce put him on speaker, so I could hear what he had to say.

“So it wasn’t bullshit, then? You’ve got a real girlfriend? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“First of all, she can hear you. And second of all, it’s a… a mutual arrangement.” Bryce glanced at me then, almost like an apology. “You need me to sort my shit out and she needs a friend. We’re doing each other a favour. For a month.”

“A month.” Jeff’s tone changed. He almost sounded disappointed. I was too, in a strange way. It had all felt so normal, kissing Bryce at the pub, his arms around me. I had to remember that it wasn’t real.

Bryce picked the phone up, walking to one end of the deck while they discussed things. He hung up a few minutes later, then came back to me, looking even more apologetic.

“I’m really sorry. He wants you to sign an NDA.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I don’t give a shit about that stuff. But my sponsors… Basically, we have to make this look real. Are you okay with that?”

I nodded. It made sense.

“He wants to pay you, as well. For your time. Look, I understand if?—”

“No. Absolutely not.” I didn’t need or want the money. “I’m happy to do this. To help you. And you’re helping me, too.” I didn’t know why the words seemed to stick in my throat. That was the arrangement.

But once Bryce was gone, kissing my cheek and telling me he had to go to Melbourne and see his family, I wasn’t sure what to think. I signed the NDA once Jeff sent it through. All it basically said was that I can’t talk about us or disclose the true nature of the arrangement, either during or once it’s over. Just reading that word “over” made my stomach twist in a strange way.

My phone buzzes. It’s probably Simon, messaging again. The messages started yesterday, before Bryce even left the house. All from burner numbers, as usual. But Bryce had taken my phone from me, written a nice sweary little response, signed his name and sent it back. For the first time, dealing with Simon had made me giggle.

I’m not surprised he’s keen to reach me, though I have zero desire to talk to him. I’ve blocked Simon on all my socials, but as soon as I agreed to the deal, Bryce insisted on us taking a few selfies together. Standing on my deck, the sea and sky behind us, grinning at the camera. Then he’d grabbed my chin and turned my head, planting a quick kiss on my lips. He apologised afterwards, but I was completely fine with it, my heart still pounding, along with a pulse between my legs. That was the photo he posted to his socials, with a single heart emoji underneath. I did the same on mine. Even if Simon can’t see my posts, I’m sure he’s scrolling through Bryce’s, looking for any mention of me. Good. I hope he finally gets the message.

I’m getting messages too, and not just from Simon. They started rolling in as soon as I posted the photo. Not many, to be fair. Joss and Sal, of course. I hesitated, hating lying to them. But in the end, I just said that Bryce and I were getting to know each other. They both screamed, of course. I know there’s a conversation in my future where I’ll have to go over every detail, but at least I have a little time to plan what to say.