The Lies (Luck of the Irish Book 2) Read online

  “That pretty much sums it up. As a goodwill gesture, he kept my job open for me. All I could think was I could go back, work for a year or two to build up some money, then come back and start again with some cash behind me.”

  “That makes sense, but—”

  “But I forgot about what I’d be leaving behind.”

  “That was Aunt Addy,” I say when Blake reappears showered and dressed a while later. “Sinead’s making Sunday lunch for us.”

  “Oh, is she?” he asks, sounding amused.

  “Is that weird?”

  “She thinks the sun shines out of your arse, you know? I bet she’s trying to impress you with her cooking skills.” My heart swells for his beautiful daughter.

  “Well, it does!”

  “I’ll need to have a closer look,” he says with a wink.

  “Hmm, we’ll have to see about that. We need to be there before midday.”

  “That doesn’t give us long,” Blake says, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece that’s surrounded by photos of him, Kayleigh and Sinead.

  I knew Blake had a plan because he put stops on my suggestion of joining him in the shower. Instead, he told me to get ready to go out so I spent the time doing my hair and make up instead of him. “What are we going to do?”

  “I thought we could head back to your new bakery, check it out in the daylight and start to make a plan.” Hearing him call it my bakery starts up a whole new load of butterflies in my belly.

  I want to come across all nonchalant about the idea but when I jump up from the sofa announcing, “Let’s go then,” I don’t think I manage it.

  “I thought I was going to have a fight on my hands here,” Blake admits once we’re on our way.

  “With what?”

  “You accepting the bakery and flat.”

  “I want to argue but I get the feeling it’s not going to get me anywhere, so I figure why bother wasting the energy.”

  “Good, baker girl,” he replies patronisingly, making me turn and stick my tongue out at him like the mature woman that I am.

  I want to say that it looks better in the daylight but I’d be lying. The place is still a shit hole. Nonetheless, it’s a shit hole with possibilities.

  “We can do whatever you want to the place. The counter could stay here, but personally I think it would be better moved to the left. It would give you more space out here for another table. Between Jase and I, we can pretty much do all the work that’s needed.”

  “Jase? By any chance is that Jason Duffy?” I ask, thinking of my first crush when I was in primary school.

  “The one and only. You know him?”

  “Kind of. We didn’t exactly have the same circle of friends,” I admit. I was a good kid; Jason…not so much. He was your stereotypical popular boy who was into all his sports and had all the girls chasing him.

  “He didn’t say he knew you when I said you were back.”

  “I’m not surprised. I just kinda blended into the background at school. Cara and I kept ourselves to ourselves and got on with stuff. I was pretty boring.”

  “I don’t believe that. Anyone as beautiful as you can’t possibly blend into the background.”

  “Ugh, such a smooth talker,” I joke.

  “Anyway, Jase’s a plasterer by trade but he can put his hand to most things like me. I reckon we could have this place turned around pretty quickly.”

  “I’ll help,” I offer, but all I get in response is raised eyebrows. “What? I can do manual labour,” I pout.

  “I’m sure you can, princess,” he says, using the nickname he first gave me when I returned to Ireland.

  “I thought you said you realised I wasn’t a princess.”

  “You’ll always be a princess, baker girl.”

  His words make me even more determined to get stuck in here and create something even more amazing than I’ve imagined all these years.

  “Soooo…” Aunt Addy says to me seconds after walking into her bungalow. I panic for a minute that she’s asking how last night went. I feel heat creep up my neck before she clarifies. “Blake showed you the old café, right?”

  “Oh,” I say in relief, and then laugh to myself that I actually thought she was asking about our night—she should know better than that. “It’s amazing. I still can’t believe it. We’ve just come from there, actually.” We spent the rest of our time measuring and drawing up plans for possible layouts. We didn’t venture upstairs—I think one challenge at a time is enough.

  “Hey, Lil’ bit. Were you good for your nan?” Blake asks when we step into the kitchen to find Sinead stirring something in a saucepan at the hob.

  Her face lights up when she sees us but to my surprise, when she puts the wooden spoon down, it’s me she makes a beeline for.

  “I’m so glad you stayed,” she says into my chest as she hugs me. I keep my arms to my sides, not because I don’t want to hug her but because I really didn’t see that coming. Blake catches my eye and when he nods at me I realise I need to do something so I wrap both my arms around her and give her a gentle squeeze back. “I made you dinner,” she announces before removing herself from me and quickly making her way back over to attend to whatever it is she was stirring.

  “It smells amazing, Sinead, and I’m starving.”

  “Me too,” Blake adds, but she doesn’t seem as excited to tell him about it as she does me. Blake sits himself down at the table while Aunt Addy pours him a beer and Sinead tells me about every single element of her roast dinner.

  “I made an apple crumble at school last week. I told Mrs Taylor that I’d made one before and that it was easy and I wanted to modify the recipe she’d given us to one I used to make with my mum, but she wouldn’t let me. It was nice enough but it wasn’t amazing. This one, though, will be awesome. The filling is apple and blackcurrant with cinnamon, and the topping is made with brown sugar so it goes a little caramely, and I’ve put coconut in it as well. You can have it with custard, ice cream, or cream—or all three if you want, right Nan?”

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” Aunt Addy adds with a smile.

  “I can’t wait, it sounds delicious.”

  Aunt Addy helps Sinead plate everything up before putting full plates down in front of Blake and me a while later.

  “Good job, Lil’ bit,” Blake mumbles around a mouthful of roast dinner. Sinead beams at his praise.

  Both Aunt Addy and I mutter our agreement as we all polish off our dinner.

  We chat away about everything and nothing, and when I look up, I feel like I’m actually part of a real family for the first time in my life. Things were good when it was just Mum and me, but I always felt she was looking for more, and I was right, because when Michael came into the picture, he was her main focus. I never made a big deal out of the fact I was kinda pushed to one side, but I totally was. Then, when I became part of the Chapman-Webb family, I realised that what I had growing up wasn’t all that bad because everything about that family was fake. My mum may not have been perfect but at least I knew she was telling the truth when she told me she loved me.

  “Can I show her now?” Sinead asks Blake, dragging me from my thoughts.

  “Yes,” he answers, sounding frustrated. I can only presume whatever it is she’s about to show me has been going on a while.

  Sinead jumps from her chair and runs into the living room. She’s soon back with a sketchbook in her hands. She stands next to me and places the book down on the table. I move my plate to the side to give her room.

  “So when Dad said about you having a bakery, I started collecting stuff. You said you liked our house and I designed all that soooo…” she says in a rush before opening the book.

  “Oh my God, Sinead, it’s gorgeous,” I gasp, staring down at a double page full of images. It’s a moodboard for what my bakery could look like, and it’s incredible. Everything is natural earth tones with an accent of emerald green. My eyes flick over everything on the page and I reach out to run my fingers o
ver the textured wallpaper and fabric.

  “Aunt Addy said your favourite colour’s green and that you loved her apron, so I used that for inspiration. I thought it needed to look classy so I went with natural, like your logo. Everything is wood or old looking metal. Look at the cake stand there—that’s my favourite. I saved all the websites where I found it all just in case you needed them.”

  “This is incredible,” I whisper, staring down at it as Sinead’s design comes to life in my head. This could really work. “Is this really happening?” I question, and when I look up, Aunt Addy and Blake are staring back at me with smiles on their faces.

  “It is, sweetheart. See, I told you that you couldn’t leave, and everything would be okay.”

  “You knew about this?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve got nowhere near enough money to make this happen. I can sell everything I have in London, all the stuff in the flat, my designer clothes…but that’s going to take time.”

  “I have money, sweetheart. And don’t even think about arguing,” she warns when I open my mouth to do just that. “Consider it a business loan. I know you’ll make a huge success of this so I have no doubt you will pay me back.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, too emotional to speak properly.

  “Right, Lil’ bit, we need to get going. You’ve got school in the morning and no doubt you have homework.”

  “I do,” Sinead admits, earning her the evil eye from Blake. “Can Addison come too?”

  “Uh—” Blake starts.

  “Not tonight. Your dad’s right, it’s a school night and I’m sure he has stuff he needs to do too.” Blake’s face drops but I stand firm because this is a big change for all of us—especially Sinead. We all need time to adjust and to figure out what works for us.

  “Okay, come on then, short stuff.”

  Blake grabs Sinead’s bags and they both head towards the front door after thanking Aunt Addy.

  “I’ll meet you in the van,” Blake says to Sinead, who runs off towards the passenger side before he turns to me. “Are you sure you won’t come?”

  “It’s the right thing to do, Blake. She needs routine, I’m not going to come swooping in and change your lives after one day. We need to take this one step at a time, for her more than us.”

  “Look at you being all maternal and caring,” he says teasingly, but his words unsettle me. My thoughts must be clear as day on my face. “Hey, don’t look so worried about it. I’m glad you’re putting her first. It’s how it should be.”

  “It is,” I agree. “Maybe we can go out to dinner one night this week?”

  “I’ve got a few things on with work. Can I let you know what day?”

  “Of course.”

  We stand awkwardly staring at each other on Aunt Addy’s doorstep, not really knowing how to appropriately say goodbye, when we hear Sinead shout out the van. “Just kiss her, Dad!”

  We both burst out laughing but he does as he’s told and after a quick peck on the lips, he’s off down the driveway to join his daughter.

  I watch them pull away and drive off down the street.

  “Didn’t I tell you to stay in Ireland and not go running back?” Aunt Addy says the second I shut the front door.

  “There’s no need to look so smug, you know.”

  “I like being right. Are you still coming with me to watch Macbeth in a few weeks?”

  “Of course, I’m looking forward to it.”

  After finding my diary, I get in touch with the customers I had to cancel on last minute when I’d decided to go back to London. Thankfully, they all understand my very cut down version of events, and all still want me to make their cakes. At least that’s a little bit of money coming in while I get everything sorted for opening my own bakery.

  My own bakery…who’d have thought it?

  Chapter Three

  I spend the next three days stuck in Aunt Addy’s kitchen baking like a mad woman, trying to fulfil the orders I reinstated on Sunday evening. By Thursday morning, I’m desperate to get out of the house and I’m also dying to go back to what’s going to be my bakery to try to get some idea of everything that needs doing. Mostly, though, I just want to be there so I can imagine what it’s going to be like. It feels like it was all a dream and I want to make sure it wasn’t.

  After raiding Aunt Addy’s garage for some basic tools, I head into town, leaving her behind with her sewing machine. I make a stop in the charity shop next door before letting myself in with the spare key Blake gave me.

  I dump my bags on the counter before taking my charity shop spoils into what was the kitchen at the back to get changed, but to my surprise the place is empty. I look around and every bit of crap and old piece of furniture has been cleared out.

  I don’t have any clothes I’d happily get dirty, so I grabbed a pair of leggings and picked up a man’s shirt from next door for a few quid. Carefully folding my jeans and jumper and placing them in bag to keep them clean, I head back out to make a start on stripping the hideous orange wallpaper that seems to cover every available inch of the place.

  It looks so much bigger with everything gone and it gets me even more excited as I can really begin to imagine what it could look like. I find an electric socket and plug in Aunt Addy’s wallpaper stripper. I leave it to power up while I grab a knife, scraper, my phone and headphones. I set my playlist and pop the buds in my ears before getting started.

  The hours fly by as I make my way around the room, stripping all the old paper off. It’s been years since I did any decorating, I think I was probably about seven when Mum suggested painting my bedroom. We did a fairly good job between us but she was no expert, nor a great teacher.

  I’m totally lost singing away to a song when some movement over in the corner of the room scares the shit out of me. I spin around, one hand instinctively coming up to cover my racing heart, the other frantically pulling at the cords hanging from my ears.

  Two amused faces look back at me and when I look into Blake’s eyes, I start to relax a little—until I focus on the person stood next to him.

  Suddenly I’m nine again and in my primary school classroom, staring at my childhood crush. His dark brown and almost black eyes are exactly as I remember and it seems he hasn’t outgrown his cheeky smile.

  Jason Duffy.

  “Kenny!” he exclaims happily. I, on the other hand, just about manage to contain the groan the reminder of my childhood nickname creates. Blake’s eyebrows draw together and he looks at me questioningly but I shake it off. “Blake said you were back. How’s it hanging?” So apparently I was wrong when I told Blake that he probably wouldn’t remember me.

  “Uh…it’s…uh…good?” I reply, but my childhood nerves get the better of me and it comes out like a question.

  For fuck’s sake, Addison, you’re now a grown woman and Jason Duffy is just another man. So what you fancied the pants off him in school? Yeah, he’s still good looking, but I’ve got Blake now and with the two of them stood side by side, there is no question for me as to who the most attractive is.

  “Anyway,” Blake says, thankfully dragging me back to reality where I’m thirty and about to be a business owner. “My afternoon job got cancelled yesterday so I ripped this place out.”

  “I saw, it looks massive.”

  “That’s what she said,” Jason comments with a giggle. Okay, so I may now be thirty but it seems he may still be nine. Blake and I stare at him with blank expressions before going back to our previous conversation.

  “I wasn’t expecting to find you here doing this,” he says, taking a step towards me and reaching out. I expect him to put his hand on my cheek or my neck so I lean in slightly but when he pulls his hand back, I see a piece of orange wallpaper between his fingers that he just plucked from my hair.

  “I’d finished all the cakes I had to do so I thought I’d come and help. Shouldn’t you be fixing someone’s broken light fitting or something?”

  “I’m done
for the day and I had a few hours to spare before my hot date tonight.”

  “Is that right?”

  Blake doesn’t respond. Instead, he steps into me. I’m forced to step back until I’m against the wall. His lips come down to mine and he kisses me like he hasn’t seen me for days, which of course is the case.

  “Ugh, really? I came here to work, not watch porn,” Jason complains after a minute or two.

  “We were going to strip the wallpaper so Jason could hopefully start skimming the walls soon, but it seems we’re a little late,” Blake says.

  “I’ve just got this little bit by the window and then it’s all done. The kitchen is just paint and so is the bathroom,” I say as I peel myself off the sticky wall.

  “Amazing,” Blake says, sounding stunned.

  “What?”

  “I just wouldn’t have put you down for doing any manual labour.”

  “Will you please get out of your head that I’m some sort of posh city girl. That. Is. Not. Me,” I state, starting to get a little pissed off by how he sees me.

  “That wasn’t how I meant it. You’ve done a great job,” he says, pulling me into a hug. His praise puts a halt to my sulking.

  We all spend the next couple of hours filling the dodgy bits in the walls, discussing plans and generally chatting about life. My nine-year-old self dreamt of spending time with Jason, and if I’m honest, he’s fulfilling that fantasy by acting like a nine-year-old himself.

  “Come on, baker girl, it’s time to go get dressed up,” Blake announces from where he’s up a stepladder filling in some holes in the ceiling.

  “Okay, let me just finish this bit.”

  “I’ll come back tomorrow to start plastering. I’ve got a few free days,” Jason says.

  “That’s brilliant, thank you,” I say sincerely. He may be a fully-grown man-child, but I couldn’t be more grateful for his help.

  I follow Blake’s van back towards our side of town before I pull off towards Aunt Addy’s house. Blake said he’s got a table booked for eight so it doesn’t give me long to get ready; thankfully, he told me to dress smart-casual.