Oh man, we're back! I know I originally said that this chapter was coming Saturday (tomorrow) but I'm at home nursing tonsilitis so I thought I'd post it early to cheer myself up.
It's been so long and I can't even begin to tell you how much I've missed writing these characters. This chapter is a long one but I figured it was owed given how long this fic has been on hiatus. The next chapter, as the last line hints at, is a big one. As always, if you're here, reading this, then I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. The fact that after all these years, people are still here, reading my stories...it absolutely blows my mind. I'm not above begging for reviews so please leave one if you have a moment, you have no idea how much they mean to me.
Thank you for still being here. Love, Ella xx
Allie Harding cocked her head as she stared into the floor length mirror at the end of her closet. The two ball gowns she held up either side of her body had been the sole focus of her morning - anything that prevented her from worrying about Pete Dunham and where he had disappeared to. Since yesterday afternoon when they had finallyroused themselves from his bed, he had been anywhere but with her. His usually handsome face was clouded with worry, his smiles not even bothering to reach his eyes. He was tortured, that much she knew but she had no idea by what or whom.
A sudden crash from her bedroom ruptured her reverie and she shrieked, grabbing at her dressing gown which had been cast to the floor earlier and wrapping it around her body as she flew into the room, expecting to find Petesat amongst the trinkets from her windowsill which he knocked down every time he entered her bedroom. Disappointment swept through her and she peered at the unruly mess of hair on her bedroom floor, the culprit clambering to their feet and mumbling obscenities under their breath.
"Bov?" she queried.
"Dunham has been doing that every night for seven years?" he snorted. "Christ, he must really be hook, line and fuckin' sinker for you, Harding."
Smirking not just at the comment but at how out of place Bovver looked amongst her pale peach walls, golden fixtures and silk grey bed sheets, Allie jerked her chin towards the chair by her dresser. He made his way to it and sat down, shaking his cigarette pack out of his sleeve.
"Don't even think about it," Allie told him in a sing-song voice as she collected her belongings that he had knocked to the floor. "I do not spend obscene amounts of money on Diptique candles for you to come in and have my bedroom smelling like the Abby in a matter of seconds."
"Yes, your highness," Bovver rolled his eyes, watching as Allie flipped him the finger before plopping down on the sofa at the end of her bed and looking at him expectantly yet softly. "You're wondering why I'm here?"
"Not really," she grinned. "I think over the past seven years, every single one of you has crashed in this room to hide from your folks. It's never happened in daylight hours before though so I'm assuming-"
"Pete said you was havin' a party," he shrugged. "So 'ere I am. What else am I gonna do on a Saturday morning except hang up fairy lights or make canapés or whatever else you posh people do?"
"Did you just say canapés?" Allie giggled, throwing her head back and laughing even harder when he blushed and swore at her. "You're early but we could use help setting up. I think the DJ should be here so-"
"What am I gonna do, Allie?"
At that, she stopped, her heart plummeting as she stared at the young man across from her, his hands wringing around each other and his voice trembling slightly. She had seen Bovver angry, moody, violent even but never...broken.
"Everyone got into uni, everyone but me. So what do I do? I'm gonna be left 'ere on my Todd while you lot go off and live your lives," he gritted his teeth. "I can't even get a job at the Abby, y'know? I applied and they shot me down. Pete and the lads, they're the only family I've ever 'ad. And they're leaving me,"
"Bov," Allie shook her head, fighting to keep the sympathy out of her voice. He would hate that. "They're going to Roehampton - they're not-"
"They're going to uni," he interrupted her. "You reckon between lectures and meeting birds and goin out drinkin', they're gonna want to come back to Barking and hang out with me in a park?"
"I think they're your brothers," she countered, catching the sag in his shoulders and making her voice firmer. "I think they love you and that it doesn't matter where you're working or what they're doing, they'll want to spend time with you. So will I. You not getting into university doesn't change who you are and it definitely doesn't change who any of us are or how we feel about you. Nothing is going to change, Bov."
"You really think so?" he snorted. He wanted to shout at her, to tell her that for once, her eternal optimism wasn't what he needed. He wanted to yell at her for having the life he wanted, he wanted to scream at the boys for doing what he couldn't. He wanted more for himself but he knew he wasn't meant for it.
"Do you know when I first met Pete, all he talked about was you," Allie grinned. "We were playing Golden Eye on the N64 and all he bloody went on about was how much better at it you were."
"He weren't lyin'," Bovver muttered.
"Uh, yes, he was. You all are if you even think I'm not the reigning champion of that game but that's neither here nor there," she batted the thought away with her delicate fingers and roused a real laugh out of him this time. "The point I'm trying to make, Bov is that you think they're going to somehow forget about you and...that's just not going to happen. You're as much of a brother to Pete as Steve is and you can't look me in the eye and honestly tell me you think you're going to drift apart just because he's going to university 10 miles up the road? A bond like yours...it takes more than that to even come near it."
Bovver stared at her for a long moment, wondering how and when his life had taken the turn that lead him to seeking advice from the girl from Sloane Square. Their friendship had been a much slower burn than any of the others, partly down to her being a girl and partly down to the fact they came from different universes. He had held it against her for the longest time, not seeing what Pete and the other's saw. But God help him, he had grown to love her and felt as protective over her as he would have had she been his own sister.
Feeling tears sting his eyes, Bovver swiped at them angrily, hating that he felt so vulnerable and weak.
"So...," Allie's voice jolted him out of his tears and he frowned at her, unsure of what she would say next. He didn't want to sit here and talk about this any longer, he felt stupid enough as it was. But this was Allie Harding, the girl who didn't know when to say when.
"My brothers are currently downstairs making cocktails," she rolled her eyes.
"Rich is coming to the party?" Bovver scoffed, knowing Allie's older brother was something of an acquired taste who didn't even attempt to conceal his hatred of Pete and the boys.
"Christ no," Allie snorted. "Swill has more chance of running the London Marathon,"
Smirking when Bovver let out a real laugh this time, she stood and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, knowing a hug would likely be a step too far but needing to comfort him nonetheless.
"So, unless you want to help me pick out a dress….?"
"I can make cocktails," Bovver stood quickly and shook his head. "I still remember that day you made me go into that fuckin' shoe shop with you for an hour. An hour. A fuckin' hour."
"You weren't complaining when those girls from year 10 came in, if I remember," her green eyes flashed and she pointed at him. "Actually, you owe me for that because you ended up getting one of their numbers."
"Yeah, yeah," Bovver shoved her lightly, making his way towards her bedroom door and turning back briefly to look at her. "Y'know…this…thing with you and Pete," he sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands.
Allie felt her breath hitch; one of the prereqisites of them starting this relationship was that it could never affect their friends. Granted, she knew she didn't have to exactly ask the boys' permissions, but it had crossed her mind more than once that this change in dynamic might have a ripple effect within the group.
"It's the best thing that could have happened to him,"
Allie blinked, somewhat surprised by the raw honesty in Bovver's eyes as he met her own from across the room.
"He changed from the day he met you and you're as responsible as any of us are for the bloke he is today," Bovver cast his eyes to the floor, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm chuffed for you both, is all."
The blonde opened her mouth to offer her thanks but didn't get the chance as in classic Bovver style, he simply turned on his heel and made his way downstairs. Grinning to herself, Allie shook her head, knowing that securing Bovver's blessing for anything was about as good as it got. Her mind immediately snapped back to the man in question and she moved to her bed, reaching for her phone and throwing pride to the wind as she pressed the call button under his name. Her ivy green eyes rolled skyward as it went to voicemail and she wondered whether it would be worth leaving a message when the beep pulled her out of her reverie and she found herself speaking.
"Hey, its me. I, uh…I just wanted to check you were ok." She took a breah and picked at invisible lint on her bedspread. "Just call me back and let me know. I love you."
Flipping the phone shut, she took a deep breath and then headed to her closet, stepping inside and picking up the two dresses she had thrown to the floor before Bovver interrupted her. Green or black. Easy decision. Or at least it would have been if her mind wasn't racing with all the things Pete could be doing, especially if his father was involved. Casting a steely glance into the mirror, she shook the thoughts out of her head. Pete would be fine, he always was. He could call her.
He would be ok.
"Just call me back and let me know. I love you."
Pete closed his eyes, lowering the phone from his ear and stretching out his hand which was red and swollen. Glancing at the wall in front of him, now sporting a Dunham fist shaped hole, he swore under his breath. Since she had left his house yesterday afternoon, Pete had been sitting in his room wondering what the hell his next move was. The details of his discussion with his father the night before still fresh and sharp in his mind, stabbing at any sense of happiness he had. Pat, his uncle, the man he idolised from the time he could walk had lied to him his entire life. Cheated on his wife. Fathered a son with the wife of the head of a rival firm.
"Fuck me," Pete scrubbed his head with his hands and then frowned, forgetting not for the first time that his unruly blonde mop of hair was no more.
"That about sums it up," Steve snorted, walking into the room and leaning against the door frame. Raising an eyebrow at his brothers questioning look, he shrugged. "You weren't answering your phone to anyone and no offence mate, but you ain't exactly stealthy. You've got the whole of London to hide in and you chose your bedroom?"
Pete smirked, stretching his legs out in front of him as Steve took a seat at the battered desk in the corner, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly in front of him.
"You talked to Pat yet?"
Pete spoke so quietly that he almost missed it but a cursory glance upwards at the younger mans tortured eyes let him know what whether he liked it or not, his little brother wasn't going to let this lie.
"And say what, mate?" Steve sighed. "Trust me, our old man's little story time hour was as much of a shock to me as it was to you."
"So, where do we go from 'ere?" Pete frowned. "You ain't seriously suggesting we just chalk this up to water under the bridge and keep our mouths shut?"
Steve closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to work out what to say next. If he told Pete everything, about the firm, about the way it started, about what was happening now, it would change his life forever. Opening his eyes and glancing up at the University acceptance letter pinned to the wall above his brother's bed, he knew there was no way that was an option.
"Leave it with me." He said simply.
"Fuck off, mate," Pete half laughed. "I get there's shit I don't know, alright? About the firm. About you and Pat and what you're doin' but this ain't about that, this is about-"
"Its all connected, Pete," Steve snapped. "And I ain't dragging you into it. Final."
"So what about the match the other night?" Pete stood, adrenaline coursing through his body and making his heart slam against his ribs, the urge to add another hole to the wall rising in his veins. "I was-"
"You were in one little ruck," Steve hissed, standing and jabbing a finger into his shoulder. "And what? You think that makes you part of the firm? You really think you can handle this, Pete? Because it ain't just about match days, this is what we live for. Our reputation, our family name is on the line 'ere."
"Then fuckin' clue me in," he shouted. "Let me help. You're my fuckin' brother and you're stand there saying you can't trust me?"
"Of course I trust you." Steve levelled him with his eyes. "This ain't about trust, its about turning your life on its arse just when its going somewhere good and for what? To stick it to the old man? Pete, Michael Dunham wouldn't be worth pissing on if he was on fire."
"I don't care about Dad," Pete snorted, pacing the room in short, fast strides. "This is about Pat. The man who acted like our father for the past however many years. This is about him lying to us, muggin' us off, not to mention Auntie Nancy."
"Careful, son," Steve snapped. "That's not our fight,"
"Yes it fuckin' is!" Pete screamed, slamming the closet door so hard that it snapped, dangling from the top hinges only, the faint creak the only sound in the room for a long moment.
"He's right, Steve."
Both men turned to the doorway, their eyes wide and glassy as Pat Dunham made his way into the small and already crowded room and took a seat on the end of Steve's bed. His eyes were worn and dark, his shoulders slumped, marking all the signs of a man who hadn't seen sleep in at least 24 hours.
"Sit down." He jerked his chin towards Pete, his mouth set in a grim line. "You want the truth, Pete? You can 'ave it. I don't want to lie to you boys anymore." Taking a deep breath, he fought back the sting of tears in his eyes. "And I know telling you this means I'm probably gonna lose ya. But its time to do what's right. Even if it ain't gonna be easy."
"CANNONBALL!"
Allie gawked at the crowd filling her garden, the huge expanse of land seemingly filled to the very hilt with people, their bodies swaying to the pounding music, laughter and chatter rising high in the balmy summer air.
"Lara," she called, not taking her eyes off of the scene in front of her. "Why did a kid I don't recognise just cannonball into my pool in a penguin onesie?"
Gripping her towel tightly around her body, Lara walked out on the balcony of Allie's bedroom, placing her chin on her friend's shoulder as she took in the scene below.
"That's Gavin McGorman," she shrugged. "We were in summer classes with him, remember?"
"Gavin McGorman?" Allie laughed. "Gavin McGorman from theatre who used to put worms in people's bags and then got sent to a different school when he nearly burned the playground down?...with us in it?"
"Yeah," Lara grinned. "He's going to Cambridge to study astrophysics, can you believe that?"
Glancing down at the boy in question who was now doing laps in the pool making seal noises, Allie grimaced.
"Not really."
Turning back to her room, she stood over her bed, the two dresses she had been debating over since this morning laying side to side and mocking her. The simplest decision in the world and here she was still unable to sway one way or the other. Not that it had anything to do with a dress. It had everything to do with Pete Dunham. Rolling her eyes, she walked past Lara and into her closet, sitting cross legged on the small sofa in the middle and closing her eyes. She didn't want this party, all she wanted was to be with Pete, sitting on her bed, watching movies, to feel his lips against hers. To know he was ok.
"You know if you're falling asleep before the party kicks off, you could always do some cocaine to perk you up."
Allie smirked and opened her eyes, watching as her mother stood at the doorway, one hip jutted out and a large black bag over her shoulder. Ever the Hollywood starlet that never was, Poppy Harding was dressed in a long ivy green gown, the mermaid skirt pooling around her feet as she winked in her daughter's direction.
"How you've never won Parent of the Year is beyond me," Allie laughed.
"Well, if you're going to be a nerd about it," Poppy rolled her eyes and walked into the room, offering her daughter a cup. "Coffee will have to do. Two sugars, extra caramel syrup."
Allie accepted it gratefully, taking a sip of the scalding hot liquid and humming quietly to herself.
"Speaking of things you need," Poppy cocked her head towards the bedroom. "The two dresses on the bed?"
"Please just pick one for me," Allie groaned. "I've been trying to decide since 8am and I'm getting nowhere. Not to mention, a kid in a penguin suit is doing laps in our pool and I still haven't heard from Pete."
Poppy saw her daughter's eyes glass over and felt her heart break. Allie had always been strong, stronger than anyone her age should be. Her girl was a fighter, but when she broke, she broke. It was the price of wearing your heart on your sleeve.
"Well," she smiled softly. "Penguin boy is currently drying off in the living room so you can scratch that one off of your list of concerns." She pulled the black bag she had been carrying behind her back to dangle in front of her daughter. "And as for the dress…I'm here to make matters more complicated."
Reaching down, she found the zipper on the bottom and pulled it with a flourish, watching her daughter's eyes widen and a small gasp escape her lips.
"May I present option three," she smiled, pulling the silk gown from the bag and feeling her heart melt as Allie stood, her eyes wide. The pale yellow silk was almost backless, the loose sweetheart neckline and floor skimming skirt making it look like it should be adorning a red carpet actress, not a 17 year old going to a party in her back garden.
"I saw you drooling at this in the Harvey Nicks window a few weeks back and they only had one left in your size so I figured it was fate," Poppy grinned.
"Oh, Pops," Allie smiled through her tears. "I can't believe that you-"
"Bought my gorgeous daughter the dress she deserves so she could dance under the stars with her boyfriend?" Poppy caught the flash in her daughters eyes and smiled. "Ah yes, nearly forgot. You might want to get dressed quick-sharp. There's a very dapper looking man in my kitchen who insists his name is Tyler Durden."
Allie threw her head back and laughed, relief flooding her system. He was here, he was safe.
"Please don't humour him." Allie begged her mother, placing the gown on the rack in front of her and shrugging out of her dressing gown.
"Would you rather I gave him the 'touch my daughter tonight and I'll murder you', talk?" Poppy grinned wickedly. "Actually, I think your father might enjoy doing that one."
Catching the look in her daughter's eyes, she giggled and made herself busy helping her into the gown, zipping the back and then standing behind her in front of the mirror. Allowing herself a long glance at the young woman, Poppy felt her eyes well. How had the tiny thing she had brought into the world 17 years ago become this Goddess? Her skin glowed beneath the silk, her slightly curled hair swept up with tendrils falling into her sparking green eyes, the softest of smiles on her peachy coloured lips.
"Thank you," Allie told her mother in the mirror, curling her hand up to touch her mothers face when she leaned her head on her shoulder. "Not just for the dress…for all of it."
"Darling girl," Poppy smiled, turning Allie by the shoulders, clasping her face with her hands and ignoring the tear that slipped from her eye. "More than anything else in this world…be happy."
"I am," Allie promised her with a grin. "I am."
Taking a deep and somewhat shuddering breath, Poppy let her hands slip down Allie's arms and squeezed her hands gently before letting her go.
"Well then," she sniffed and shook her head, willing the tears from her eyes. "If that's the case, you have a party to get to."
Pete slid the glass door open which led to their pathetic excuse of a back garden and stopped for a short moment, staring at Pat Dunham who's back was to him, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the world.
"Coffee's ready," Pete nodded, turning on his heel to go back into the house. He wasn't sure he was ready for what Pat had to say, for how it would undoubtedly turn his world upside down.
Pat followed him silently, sliding into one of the chairs around the small kitchen table and nodding his thanks to Steve as he placed a scalding cup of black coffee in front of him.
The two younger men took seats across from him, their bodies ridged with unease. Steve had seen enough of the world to form a poker face but Pete…Pete was looking at him as though he had no idea who he was. Which was why Pat almost jumped in surprise when he was the first to speak.
"How did it happen?" Pete set his mouth in a firm, grim line. "Any of it?"
"The firm started when your dad and I were kids. Well, truth be told, its older that either of us. We just found it, I guess you could say, when we were a little younger than you."
Pat breathed deeply; he had never said any of this aloud. He was certain he would take this to his grave but yet here he was. All because of his monster of a brother who couldn't let things lie.
"Your grandad was a good man, worked his fingers to the bone. But we never saw him. Mum was the same, it wasn't that they didn't love us – christ, they'd 'ave done anything for us. But they weren't there. We spent a lot of time just shit kicking in the streets. We found the firm; small group of lads, nothin' much to look at. But they stood for something and fuck me, when those boys fought…" Pat shuddered. "They were a family. They were bloody, unruly, afraid of nothing. But they never let each other down. It was what we wanted. Y'know, a purpose, a place to belong. Fuck knows we weren't worth shit in school so it was always gonna be a factory job at the end of the day but the Firm…that meant something."
"You're makin' it sound like the fuckin' Brady Bunch," Pete snorted. "I might have only been to one ruck but I know it ain't that."
"It wasn't always that way," Pat snapped at him. "The violence…it didn't used to be the way of life. It wasn't fightin' for the sake of fightin'. But your dad…there's a madness in him. He always wanted it to take it that one step further."
Taking a shuddering breath, Pat clasped his hands in front of him on the table as though in prayer.
"He knew Tommy Hatcher. I never asked how – I'm guessing just round the park or whatever. But they were…mates, I suppose."
"Mates?" Steve cried. "Tommy fuckin' Hatcher is-…"
"A monster that was made," Pat shot him a dark look. "I ain't vouching for the bloke, he's a nasty piece of work but seeing what 'appened to his son-"
"You mean your son?" Pete shot at him.
Pat stared at him, his face twisted in anger and agony. He wasn't ready to talk about this. All the wrong he had done, everything he had lost, laying it bare in front of the two young men in front of him, young men he had helped to raise. It felt like defeat. Like an ending whether he wanted it to be or not.
"Nancy and I tried for years to 'ave a baby," Pat's voice was softer now, almost quivering. "I 'ad to watch her time and time again get taken into hospital, comin' home to a house where we had a pram, a cot, everything she needed. She was a mother without a child. She went into herself for the longest time, there was nothin' I could do to…to reach her. It was like she gave up…"
"So you went running to the first thing you could find to get your rocks off?" Pete snarled, regretting it instantly when Pat slammed his fist on the table.
"I fucked up," he snapped through gritted teeth. "I'll be the first one to admit that, but watch it, son. I'm tryin' my best here but I need you to meet me half way so shut up and listen."
Pete half shrugged, not trusting himself to open his mouth again. His Auntie Nancy was the loveliest woman he knew aside from Poppy and his own mother. She was nurturing without being overbearing, she was kind, soft, she was, as Pat had said, a mother.
"Sarah and I…it weren't just…that," the older man scrubbed his face with his hands, casting an eye at the clock on the wall and willing it to turn quicker, to bring the night so he could put his head to the pillow and pretend none of this was real. "I love Nancy, she is the only woman I've ever loved, right. But Sarah and I…we were the same. Lost, living in the shadow of shit we couldn't control. See Tommy…he used to hit her. I told her I'd put a stop to it but she begged me not to. Said it wasn't worth the bloodshed. And then…then one day she tells me she's pregnant."
"Did I feel like a piece of shit? Of course I did but I can't sit here and tell you I wasn't happy on some level."
"Pat…" Pete frowned, wondering how to go about this. "How did you know-"
"Dylan was born with pulmonary congestion," Pat rubbed his jaw tiredly. "And that shit is rampant on our side of the family. I told Nancy I wanted a DNA test not just to be sure but in case he needed anything…blood, I don't know. He was my son."
"And Tommy never 'ad a clue?" Steve asked.
"No," Pat shook his head. "Not in the beginning, anyway. I told Sarah that I wanted to be a part of his life, y'know, do whatever needed to be done but she wanted nothin' to do with me after that. Said it was too close a call. She couldn't risk Tommy doin' anything to her or Dylan and I understood it. So I stepped back, only saw him when I knew no one else would be there…his football games in the park, little things."
Pat smiled knowingly but there was a sadness to it that made Pete's stomach ache.
"Only spoke to him once," he recalled. "One of his footie matches, he yells at me to kick the ball back onto the pitch, gives me this thumbs up and yells 'cheers, old man.' I never forgot that. It was a week before…"
Tears suddenly welled in Pat's eyes, his voice keening as he spoke.
"I used to follow 'im home from footie, make sure he got there alright because Tommy…the minute it was over, he'd piss off to the pub. I followed 'im that day…I saw 'im cross that road. With those fuckin' headphones on…I shouted, I screamed at 'im to move but he didn't hear me. He couldn't."
A sob escaped him and he stared at the two young men in front of him, his heart thumping wildly inside his chest as his ribs contorted around his lungs, making it hard for him to breathe.
"I saw that boy get eviscerated, I felt his blood on my hands when I tried to hold him up but he was…he was so broken…"
Pete stood sharply, crashing around the side of the table and pulling his uncle into a fierce hug. The older man wept into his shoulder and he felt tears sting his own eyes. He had wanted this situation to be clear cut but he should have known better. There was too much at stake here, too much damage.
"I lost it," Pat cried brokenly. "Every ounce of hatred, of anger, I poured into the Firm. I gave it the reputation it has today and then Michael…he couldn't cope with it. He knew I was more in control than he was and he couldn't hack it. So he did the only thing he could think of to sway the balance."
"He told Hatcher about Dylan?" Pete gasped, every ounce of air leaving his lungs in a whoosh. "He 'ad to have known that-…"
"He was signing my death sentence?" Pat shook his head. "He didn't care. As long as the firm belonged to him, that's all that mattered. I only spoke to Tommy once, after it happened. He told me straight, I keep to my Firm, I stay away from him, from Sarah from anything connected to him…and he'd leave my family alone."
"That fuckin' piece of shit," Pete hissed. "Blood don't mean anything, he's dead to me." He looked over at Steve. "To both of us."
"No," Pat shook his head firmly. "You listen to me, the one thing that matters in this world, is family. Whether it's the Firm, your mum, even your dad…you hold onto that, do you hear me, boys?"
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, fishing a cigarette from his jacket pocket and mumbled in their direction about needing some air before slipping out into the garden and leaving Pete and Pat on their own.
"I let you down, Pete," Pat cupped his hand around the back of his neck and held him hard. "I'm so sorry, boy. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Not like this, I'm so-…"
"It's alright," Pete shook his head, pulling him back into a fierce embrace that caused his bones to ache. "Whatever you need me for, I ain't goin' nowhere. You, me and Steve, we're gonna make this work. We don't need Michael. It's just us three and the Firm. That's all that matters."
It was well over an hour later when Pete felt his phone buzz for the hundredth time and glanced down at it, feeling his stomach clench when he saw it was a message from Dave asking where he was, they were on their way to Allie's.
Shit. He didn't even have anything to wear. Standing and staring into the mirror at the end of Pat's hallway, he smoothed out some of the wrinkles in his t-shirt and frowned at the scuff on his new trainers. He could pass for a waiter, if nothing else.
"I know our girl is laid back and we love her dearly for it," Steve came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. "But I think we need to head out and get you a suit, mate. She will shred your Jacob's to smithereens if you walk in looking like that,"
"Right," Pete snorted. "Let me just call for the car and we'll pop into Armani and grab one on the way."
"It definitely ain't Armani," Steve reached for a box on the floor and handed it to his younger brother. "But it'll do given you'll be throwing up on it in a few hours anyway,"
Pete opened the lid and raised an eyebrow at the brand new suit inside. It was classic black complete with West Ham cufflinks which he brushed his thumb over with a small laugh.
"Those were mum's idea before you start. We saved up, me and her to get you this, figured if you're going to uni or whatever…I don't fuckin' know. You're dating a Sloaner, something tells me you'll be needing a suit at some point."
"Thank you," Pete grinned. "Really, mate, I-…"
"Yeah, yeah, write me a card and send some flowers, we've got to get our arses in gear if we want to make it on time so fuckin' chop chop," he clapped, shoving Pete down the hallway where through the window into the garden, he could see Pat sitting and looking up at the sky, his face almost grey with grief. Turning to Steve, he opened his mouth only stopping when his brother raised his hand to stop him.
"He wants some time, mate. Took a lot out of all of us. Just…give him time."
Nodding his silent understanding, Pete made his way into the bathroom to change into his suit, listening as Steve whistled under his breath in the hallway. It had taken a lot to get through this afternoon, to hear all of it and be at peace with it but he was trying, for Pat's sake. Yanking his t-shirt over his head, he ran the tap until the water was ice cold and then splashed it into his face. Casting a quick glance at himself in the small mirror, he blinked the droplets from his eyes and felt a calm and a purpose envelop him. Pat had been right; through the madness, family meant everything. So he was going to do what his father couldn't – he was going to balance it. He would go to uni and work hard, he would support his mum, lead the Firm as best he could with Pat and Steve but most of all, he was going to make sure that Allie Harding always knew she came first. That he would never, ever hurt her. He would die first.
"So, you're really going to fly airplanes?"
Dave smirked into his whiskey, sending a wink at the petite brunette over the rim of the crystal glass and feeling mighty pleased with himself.
"That's the plan," he nodded. "I''ll start commercial, y'know, just to get some hours under my belt but I'll end up in private piloting. Never know, I might be able to sneak you away with me,"
"Oh my god, I would love that!" the girl squealed, clasping her hands together under her chin. "I could be the Marissa to your Ryan."
"You wanna do what?" Dave frowned, watching as the girl opened her mouth to respond only to be interrupted when Swill appeared from nowhere two huge glasses of fluorescent blue liquid in his hands.
"Fuck being a pilor," he grinned. "I don't know what the hell is in these but Harry made me down one and I tell you what, you'll be flying by the end of the night if you do the same."
He thrust one glass at Dave and the other at the girl who simply looked at it in horror and wrinkled her nose.
"How is it you know Allie?" she asked.
"We're her chimney sweeps," Swill rolled his eyes. "She lets us out of the attic twice a year so we can come to parties and mingle with the crème de la crème such as yourselves."
Dave half spat his drink back into his glass, his eyes watering with tears as the girl snorted and walked away, ignoring the apologetic hand in the air Dave sent her way.
"Mate, these posh birds are hard work," Swill shook his head.
"Or they've just got standards," Bovver snorted, squeezing himself through the crowd to stand next to Dave, his eyes widening in horror as he pointed at one of the drinks. "What the fuck is in that?"
"Booze," Swill shrugged, taking a long sip. "It's a Harry Harding special."
"May God have mercy on your fuckin' soul," Pete grinned as he came up beside them. "Never let that man make you drink anything. I still don't think my eyesight is 20/20 after the shit he made me down last Christmas."
Winking his thanks when Dave handed him a beer, he brought the bottle to his lips, casting his eyes over the crowd and frowning when it suddenly occurred to him that since walking in here 10 minutes ago, there had been one face he'd yet to see.
"Where's Harding?" he cocked his head.
"Depends which one you're after," Poppy's voice broke through the crowd and he turned to look at her, bowled over not for the first time by how amazing she looked. There was no doubt where Allie's genetics came from.
"Richard senior is currently playing whiskey pong," she shook her head and pointed to the living room where her husband was stood sporting a sombrero and yelling at a kid about their elbows being over the line. "Richard junior is doing his best to ensure no one uses the good crystal, Harry is wearing a witches hat and making potions that have so far resulted in two guests vomiting bright blue liquid in my garden and as for the youngest…"
She cocked her head to her left and Pete followed her direction, his chest suddenly clenching to the point of pain when he saw her.
Holy. Fucking. Jesus.
The silk dress she was wearing hugged every curve on her body, her skin almost glowed in the fairy lights draped on every surface and her hair was pulled up in a loose bun, curled tendrils falling out and brushing against the bare skin of her shoulders.
"You look dashing, by the way," Poppy gently patted the lapel of his suit and smirked. "And you know I adore you however…remember the little chat we had the other night when I found you upstairs?"
Pete tried his best not to smirk back at her, instead biting the inside of his cheek as he nodded.
"No grandkids and I get to keep my balls." He pursed his lips.
"Atta boy," Poppy grinned. "Now, boys, pour me something blue, I think its about time we took Richard Harding to school on that beer pong table."
"Aye, aye!" Swill jumped up and down, handing her one of the cocktail glasses and offering her his arm as he, Dave and Bovver made their way into the living room.
Pete was almost aware of them saying something to him as they left but he didn't hear them, he couldn't move. He wasn't even sure he was breathing. He watched as Allie climbed a few of the stairs, allowing her to see out over the crowd; she was chewing her bottom lip nervously, her bright green eyes scanning the crowd for his own.
It only took a second but she found him and instantly her face became a mask of relief. She smiled softly at him, all white teeth, peachy lips and glittering green eyes and he swore in that moment that he had never and would never love anything the way he loved her.
Meandering his way through the crowd, he came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, leaving her on the second step so they were eye to eye. Allie felt her heart skip several beats as she took him in, the black suit he was wearing with a simple white shirt and tie making him look every bit the old movie star. God, she could lose herself in this man.
She opened her mouth to speak, to ask him where he had been, whether he was ok, any of the million questions rushing through her rapidly fogging brain but he interrupted her, catching her off guard with his words.
"Dance with me?"
Smiling, she took his hand and followed him through the foyer and kitchen, out into the garden where people were scattered around the pool, talking and laughing but certainly not dancing. Shooting him an odd look, she felt her stomach flutter when he smirked down at her, wrapping one arm around her waist and taking her hand in his other. As if on some kind of kismet queue, her favourite song "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex started playing and she she followed Pete's gaze to where her brother was standing, iPod clutched in his hand and raising his glass of…
"Jesus Christ, is that a luminous blue cocktail?"
Pete laughed at Allie's mildly horrified stare and began moving with her, swaying her gently and trying to memorise every detail of her in that moment. The way the fairy lights and moonlight bounced off the surface of the water next to them and created a stained glass on her face, her eyes flashing and alive. A gentle smile formed on her features and she raised an eyebrow when out of nowhere, Pete twirled her, catching her as she came out of the spin and holding her close to him.
"You always told me you couldn't dance," she challenged him, feeling butterflies break out in her stomach when he chuckled softly and shook his head. God, he was gorgeous.
"Actually, I said I didn't dance," he corrected her. "See there was only one girl I was ever gonna make a total tit out of myself for."
"Bovver?" Allie jerked her chin towards the house where, true to form, the man in question was stood brooding and looking out into the garden.
"Behave," Pete laughed, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "See, I've been thinking about this moment since I met you. Asking you to dance,"
Allie felt her heart melt when she realised he wasn't toying with her and was being sincere.
"Oh, yeah?" she quirked an eyebrow at him. "So, how does it go, this dream scenario?"
"Depends," Pete smirked. "Do you want the PG version or the over 18's?"
Allie threw her head back and laughed, giggling harder when he spun her again, letting go of her hand when he caught her this time and instead wrapping both arms around her waist. The warmth of her skin radiated through the silk of her dress and he wondered whether the skin beneath it would be even softer.
"I want the version that's happening now," Allie linked her hands behind his neck and took in a shuddering breath when one of his hands swept up the bare skin of her back and tilted her chin up so she was staring into his eyes.
"In this particular version," Pete cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, as though gearing up to take a free kick. "I tell you how fuckin' unbelievable you look in that dress, I swear when I walked in and saw you, I felt like I did the first night I walked in this house." He laughed softly. "Seven fuckin' years ago. You were wearing those ridiculous trousers…they looked like fuckin' pyjamas,"
"My Clueless trousers!" Allie laughed. "Oh my God, I can't believe you remember the-…"
"I remember everything," Pete told her softly. "Every moment of the past seven years is all up here," he tapped his left temple and smiled at her. "Everything. I remember the first time I made you laugh, the first time I saw you cry and thought for sure I was going to commit murder. I remember the first time you let me stay over, falling asleep on your sofa at the end of your bed and realising you talk in your sleep. I remember the first time you kissed my cheek, the first time you fell asleep in my arms…all of it."
"Thing is, when it comes to you, Harding," he traced her cheekbones with his thumbs. "Its never going to be enough. I want everything with you, every time you laugh or cry, I want it to be with me." He shrugged, all of a sudden bashful for some reason as though it hit him that he was laying his heart out in front of her. "You're the only girl I want to dance with. I love you,"
Allie closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her and knowing full well that the goosebumps breaking out over her skin had nothing to do with the gentle evening breeze.
"You know something, Dunham?" she met his eyes and felt her breath catch. "I've always felt lucky, good parents, relatively…stable siblings. But you…knowing you, loving you and having you love me back? There is no one luckier than me on this entire planet,"
Pete noticed at that moment that they had stopped dancing and were just stood, holding each other, the raucous party around them fading into nothing. All there was…was them.
Tangling one hand in her soft hair and cradling her waist with his other, Pete kissed her, liking the way she sighed and melted against him. Her hands came up to rest on his chest and she fought with every cell in her body to keep herself in check as his tongue brushed over her lips, his teeth tugging at her bottom lip slowly.
"Can I take you somewhere?" she whispered it so gently that Pete wasn't sure he'd heard her. Pulling back a hairs breath from her mouth, he smirked. As if she had to ask that question. When the girl kissed like that, she could order him to walk blindfolded across the M25 and he'd do it without asking.
"You mean get out of here, somewhere quiet, just you and me?" Pete smirked. "Lead the way, Harding. Lead the way."
Pretty sure you'll be able to guess one thing that's going to happen in the next chapter...but maybe not the other thing. Update coming your way soon and in the meantime, that little button that says 'review'...feel free ;) xx