‘And I couldn’t talk to Dad about it, because it might have made him fight for full custody, and no way did I want to live with him and his younger girlfriend. I’d then have to watch him acting like a born-again teenager with her every day instead of only the occasional weekend. And I didn’t want to worry Ronan because he was having enough trouble dealing with his own issues. I’m sure he would have come out about his sexuality a whole lot sooner if it hadn’t been for my parents breaking up and carrying on the way they did.’
Louis squeezed both her hands. ‘You’ve both done an amazing job of surviving what was and still is a difficult time. Parents can be so annoying when they let us down. But we let them down too, I guess. And those of us who choose to be parents will one day do the same to their children.’
Ivy tilted her head at him. ‘Have you ever been unfaithful to a partner?’
‘I’m never with them long enough to think of straying.’
‘But would you, if you were?’
‘No.’ There was a firm edge of finality about his tone. ‘An affair hurts everyone in the end. No one wins. I admire people who can move on from it but I’m not sure I could.’
‘Nor me. It’s a deal breaker for me. One of my flatmates, Zoey, was cheated on by a long-term boyfriend over a year ago. She’s still not over it.’
Louis picked up their bags from where he’d left them on the floor. ‘I’ll take these upstairs. Have you got to be somewhere by a certain time?’
‘This afternoon I have to meet with the daughter of the man who died at the villa in Montmartre, where the deceased estate is being housed. Mr Thornley wants me to check the quality and authenticity of the Victorian china before we commit to buying anything.’
‘Have you got time for a quick lunch?’
Ivy glanced at her watch. ‘Sure. But don’t you have meetings too?’
‘They can wait.’
A short time later, Louis took Ivy to one of the cafés nearby. He watched her work her way through a crispy baguette and soft, creamy cheese, marinated olives and a glass of white wine, her enjoyment obvious with the little ‘Mmm’ sounds she made. She caught him looking at her and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. ‘Why are you looking at me like that? Haven’t you seen a woman eat before?’
Louis smiled and reached for his barely touched wine. ‘It is indeed a rare occurrence for me to be with a woman who really enjoys her food.’
‘That’ll teach you for dating supermodels all the time.’ She picked up another olive and popped it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then added, ‘I forgot to ask you how your mother’s birthday dinner went.’
He took a slow sip of wine before answering. ‘It was...bearable.’ He put his glass back on the table and leaned back in his seat. ‘At least they didn’t bicker the whole time I was there.’
Ivy grimaced. ‘If they’re so unhappy, why do they stay together? Surely it would be better to call it quits or get counselling or something?’
‘They were happy once.’ Louis leaned forward to take a couple of olives off the plate between them. He put them on his side plate and then wiped his fingers on his napkin. Talking about his parents always ruined his appetite. ‘But my mother’s disappointment at not being able to give my father the large family he wanted ate away at that happiness.’
‘That’s so sad. But at least your dad didn’t trade your mum in for someone who could give him what he wanted. That’s something to be grateful for, I guess.’
Louis’ mind flashed back to his mother’s blank face and deadened personality while she’d been in the mental health clinic. His gut—even after all this time—tightened into hard knots and his skin went ice-cold. ‘Yes, that’s true.’
Ivy leaned forward across the table and placed her hand on his wrist. ‘What’s wrong?’
Louis rearranged his features into a blank mask. ‘Nothing, why?’
She leaned back and sighed. ‘I don’t know...it just looked like you were really upset about something but trying not to show it.’
He must be slipping. He had no idea he had become so transparent. Another good reason only to spend this week with her before she got even further under his guard. ‘Talking about my parents isn’t my favourite pastime.’
She looked at him for a long moment. ‘You care about them, don’t you? Even though they are difficult and annoying, deep down you love them, otherwise you wouldn’t make time for your mother’s birthday.’
Louis picked up his wine glass again. ‘You’re becoming quite the little psychologist, aren’t you?’ He kept his tone playful and accompanied it with an indolent smile.
She twitched her nose in her cute bunny way. ‘I’m always banging on about my parents, but I really love Mum. Dad, not so much. I guess I’ve taught myself not to care any more about him. It’s less painful.’
Louis waited a beat before responding, ‘My father suggested separating to my mother when I was ten years old, but she had a mental health crisis as a result. A serious one. She ended up in a clinic for months. He has never mentioned the words separation or divorce since in case she took another overdose.’
Ivy blinked at him in shock. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. How terribly distressing.’
Louis flicked a baguette crumb off the table with his fingers. ‘I used to hate going to see her at the clinic. I don’t know if it was the heavy drugs the doctors gave her, or whether she had completely shut down, but she was blank and motionless, just a body lying on the bed. She didn’t talk, she didn’t smile, she didn’t even seem to know who I was most days.’
Ivy reached forward again and grasped his hand. ‘Oh, Louis, how frightened and confused you must have been. Does Ronan know about this? He’s never said anything.’
‘No, I didn’t tell him. It’s not something I ever talk about with anyone.’ He gave a rueful twist of his mouth. ‘It happened a long time ago. I’ve almost forgotten about it now.’ Almost. But every now and again his mother would get a vacant look in her eyes and a wave of dread would swamp him. Was it happening again? Was she thinking of taking another overdose? The torturous thoughts circled his brain for hours as he remembered the anguish he’d felt and his utter powerlessness at being unable to do anything to help her.
‘I’m not sure anyone could forget such a harrowing time,’ Ivy said, softly stroking the back of his hand. ‘Has she ever had a relapse?’
‘Thankfully, no.’
‘But you must be living in dread of it anyway.’ Her insight was spot on, which shouldn’t have surprised him. But he wasn’t used to being close enough to a person for them to see the structural cracks in his façade. His childhood foundation had been compromised like a building that had suffered a destabilising earthquake tremor. He had reinforced where he could but there were still hairline cracks if you looked close enough. And he had a feeling Ivy was looking very closely indeed. Too close for comfort.