I shakily lift up a hand to wave hello and she does the same before turning back to say something to her friend. They pick up their drinks and head in the direction of the front rooms. I reach for my glass and take a sip, forcing the bubbles down my throat.
‘Hey,’ Becky says with concern.
I glance over at the bar again. George is watching me intently.
‘You okay?’ he mouths.
‘Leah?’ Becky prompts, demanding an explanation.
‘That was Katy, the babysitter—’
‘Oh shit.’ She exhales heavily.
I don’t even need to finish my sentence.
George comes out from behind the bar and strides over, crouching at my side.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks again, placing his hand on my knee.
I jerk violently and he removes his hand, flustered. I know the gesture was meant to be comforting, yet it was anything but.
‘That was the babysitter Theo went after,’ Becky explains, and I wince, hearing his name said out loud.
Our waitress comes over. ‘Everything all right?’ she asks brightly, with a puzzled glance in George’s direction.
He nods and stands up.
‘What are we thinking about for dessert?’ she asks breezily.
‘Give us a couple of minutes, will you?’ Becky says sharply.
I inwardly flinch and force a smile at the waitress.
‘Of course.’ She gives George another querying look before leaving us to it.
‘I’m okay,’ I tell him. ‘Thanks. It was a shock, that’s all. I haven’t seen her since.’
‘Can I get you another bottle?’ He picks up the empty one, along with the ice bucket.
I shake my head, feeling too unsettled to consider it. ‘But don’t you stop,’ I say to Becky.
‘I’m all right for now.’ Becky nods at George to let him know he can leave us too.
‘How are you getting home?’ he asks me, not moving an inch.
‘Taxi.’
‘I’ll drive you.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘I want to. Let me know when you’re ready. It’s not that busy tonight.’
I find myself nodding in quiet acceptance. George gives us a curt nod and returns to the bar.
For a long time afterwards, I’m aware of the heat from his palm on my skin.
Chapter 14 Then
The day after Preston leaves, my parents decide to take us to Fountains Abbey for an outing. They think the family time will do us good, but Joanne is having none of it. She wanted to go shopping in Harrogate with her friends, not visit ‘a fucking pile of old rocks’.
‘They’re ancient ruins,’ my dad tells her calmly.
Mum is driving and Nia is beside her in the car seat. Dad is sitting on one of the rear parallel bench seats running along each side of the vehicle, opposite me and between Ashlee and George.
‘It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site,’ he adds.
‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ Joanne asks crossly from beside me.
‘Oh, shoosh,’ Dad says mildly. ‘Not in front of the little ones, please.’
‘Sod the little ones,’ she snaps, not even looking at Ashlee, who is right across from her. ‘When are they leaving?’
‘Shut your face, now,’ George says angrily, and all of us look at him with alarm, including Ashlee, who peers with trepidation around Dad.
‘It’s okay, son, it’s okay,’ Dad says soothingly, patting George’s knee.
I stare at George, watching his shoulders rise and fall with obvious agitation as he glares at Joanne. On my left, Jamie is rigid. On my right, Joanne sinks down in her seat, huddling in on herself with her head bowed.
‘Sorry,’ George mutters, turning to stare out of the rear window.
‘We’re almost there,’ Dad says with another conciliatory pat on George’s knee.
Beside me, Jamie relaxes. I remain tense for the rest of the journey.
* * *
When we get there, we go straight to the playground.
‘Can I walk on ahead with George?’ I ask Dad, who nods. ‘Meet you back here in two hours if you don’t catch us up,’ I add.
‘Okay, love.’
I can’t imagine Ashlee wanting to leave the playground anytime soon.
Jamie is standing nearby, giving Joanne a pep talk. He’s good with her, better than I am, in any case. I want to leave them to it.
‘Let’s go,’ I say to George.
So much for a family outing.
We walk along the winding path in silence. I can tell George is still brooding about what happened in the car.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ I bump his arm.
‘I don’t like losing my temper.’
‘It’s the first time I’ve seen you lose your temper. Come on, you’re going to grind your teeth out if you don’t relax. Take a deep breath.’
He does, letting the air out of his lungs with a long exhale.
The abbey ruins come into view, stretching across acres of green grass. The hollow shells of the stone buildings are mostly without roofs, but the tower stands tall and many of the walls still contain large arched windows, including the breathtakingly big one at the Chapel of Nine Altars.
I take George straight there, leading him along the length of the abbey to the very end.
George gazes up at the enormous arched window. It’s open to the elements, framing the mottled sky beyond.
‘Wow,’ he says.
‘Awe-inspiring, hey?’
He nods.
I’m glad this is his reaction. It was Jamie’s reaction too, the first time he came here. I was only about ten and more interested in climbing the walls and finding the hidden spiral staircases, but I remember him standing and looking up at this window with a look of wonder on his face. He’d never been outside the city until he came to live with us. And in the days after he arrived, he would fidget uncontrollably. He was always on his feet, bouncing and jumpy and full of pent-up energy. But that day he just stood calmly and stared.
‘Henry VIII has a lot to answer for,’ George says as he studies a decorative detail carved into the stone.
He’s been reading the leaflet we were given at the entrance. The abbey was destroyed in 1539 when the King ordered the dissolution of the monasteries.
‘Are you interested in history?’ I ask.
‘A bit.’
George is quiet at school, but he takes everything in. Last week our English teacher asked him a question and it took him ages to answer. A couple of the girls near me started sniggering, but then he gave a softly-spoken, involved explanation that shut everyone up. That’s the thing. He thinks before he speaks. And his voice is measured rather than slow. He’s bright.
We wander aimlessly. The cellarium still blows me away: a 300-foot-long span of room with a gorgeous vaulted ceiling that somehow survived when so much else was destroyed.
Birds circle over our heads as we come out into the open air. Grasses, ferns and flowers grow out of cracks in the walls, and occasionally the sun hits us through a break in the clouds and the stone glistens in the damp air.
I spot Joanne and Jamie coming down the hill and gesture towards the river, wanting to move on before they catch us up.