He shook his head. ‘Cora can cover that. So can Rafael.’
Somehow she had to dissuade him—all she wanted to do now was run. Achieve some space. Get her head together. Enough that she could hold the façade together for a while longer until she could find him a replacement restaurant manager.
‘No. Cora and Rafael are great, but you need to be here. This is your show.’ For a heartbeat she felt the sudden scratch of tears—this would be one of the last times they were together, and emotion bubbled inside her. ‘You’re doing such good here.’
Instinct carried her forward, so close to him that she could smell the oh-so-familiar, oh-so-dizzying woodsy scent of him. One hand reached out and lay on his forearm as she gazed up at him, allowed herself one last touch.
‘Don’t.’ His voice low and guttural.
‘Don’t what? Tell the truth?’
He shook his head, stepped back so that her hand dropped to her side. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Don’t make me a hero. Because I’m not.’
‘I didn’t say you were a hero. But you are a good man, and you do so much good. Why won’t you acknowledge that and accept something good in your life.’
What was she doing? The sane course of action would be to get out of there at speed, but some small unfurling of hope kept her feet adhered to the floor.
‘Whatever you did in the past can’t change that.’
‘You don’t know about my past, Ruby.’
‘Then tell me.’
For a long moment he looked deep into her eyes, and for a second she feared that he could read her thoughts, her emotions, could see the love that she was so desperately trying to veil.
His gaze didn’t falter, though the clench of his jaw and the taut stance of his body betrayed his tension.
‘I told you that even before Tanya died I was beginning to go off the rails—I’d bunk off school every so often... I’d taken up smoking, graffitied the odd wall. But after she died I was so angry; I wanted vengeance on those bullies who’d made her last months on this earth a torment. But what could I do? I couldn’t take them all on myself—they were a group, part of one of the most intimidating gangs on the estate. Mum was falling apart, and I was full of frustration and rage.’
Her lungs constricted as she imagined how the teenaged Ethan must have felt. So helpless, so alone. With a mother prostrate with grief and the sister he’d looked up to driven to take her own life.
‘So it all went downhill. School became ancient history. I took up petty crime—shoplifting. I got into fights. I did dope... I drank. I swaggered around the estate like an idiot. I became everything Tanya would have abhorred.’
‘Tanya would have understood. You were a child full of anger, pain and grief. Didn’t your mum do anything?’
‘She was too immersed in grief to notice.’
There was no rancour to be heard, but it seemed to Ruby that everything he had done must have been in an effort to make his mum notice—step in, do something. She couldn’t bear the fact that he’d judged himself so harshly—that he couldn’t see the plethora of mitigation around his actions.
‘God knows what might have happened, but finally I got caught stealing from one of the high-street clothes stores. I went nuts—went up against the security officer. I lost it completely and they called in the cops. I was arrested, taken down to the police station, and they contacted my mother.’
‘What happened?’
‘As far as she was concerned it proved I’d morphed into my father. Reinforced her fear that history would repeat.’
‘But...but she must have seen that this was different?’
His silence was ample testament to the fact that she hadn’t, and the dark shadow in his eyes was further proof that neither had he. Foreboding rippled through her. ‘What did she do?’
‘Packed my stuff and handed me over to social services.’
Words failed her as anger and compassion intertwined—no wonder Ethan had judged himself as guilty when his own mother had disowned him.
‘Hey. Don’t look like that. For Mum the loss of Tanya was more than a tragedy—it was innately wrong. It should have been me.’
‘Did she say that?’
‘Yes.’
The syllable was spoken as if it was to be expected and Ruby’s heart tore.
‘I get that. She had a point.’
‘No, she did not!’ The words were a shout, but she couldn’t help it.
‘I let her down, Ruby. It is as simple as that. No one made me act that way.’
‘You were her son, Ethan—her child. You were acting out of your own grief and anger.’
Ruby clenched her fists. Why was he being so obdurate? But, of course, she knew the answer. Hope. Why had she persisted in believing in her own parents, long after they had proved they would never change? Same answer. Hope.
‘Have you seen your mum since?’
‘No. She is still on the estate, and every year I send her a cheque and a letter. Every year she doesn’t bank the cheque and she doesn’t answer the letter.’
The unfairness, the tragedy of it, banded her chest. ‘I understand that your mother had her own issues, but they were her issues. Would you ever do to a child what she did to you?’
Something flashed across his eyes and then he rubbed his hand down his face, made a derisive sound in his throat. ‘Jeez. Let’s end this conversation. Okay? I’ve come to terms with it all and it’s no—’
‘If you say it’s no big deal I’ll scream. It’s a huge deal. You told me to fight for justice, that right and wrong matter. This matters, and this is injustice. Ethan, you told me you thought I would be a good parent.’
‘You will be.’
‘Well, a social worker told me once that damaged children like me repeat their parents’ mistakes. I don’t believe that has to be true and neither do you. That’s why you want to help kids like Max and Tara—because you believe they deserve a chance. So do you.’ Ruby hauled in breath. ‘You have judged yourself and you’ve judged wrong. Whether your mum can see it or not, you’re a good man, Ethan Caversham.’
For a second she thought she’d made some sort of impact, but then his broad shoulders lifted.
‘Sure, Ruby. Whatever you want. I’m a good man.’
The self-mockery evident.
‘You are. And you deserve love. Real, proper love.’
It all seemed so clear to her now—exactly why Ethan had his heart under such a guard, his emotions in lockdown. The only person who had loved him was the sister he felt he had let down—a sister he had lost so tragically. The mother who should have loved him had condemned him from birth.
‘You do not have to be alone in that boat, Ethan. All family relationships do not have to end in tragedy. Love doesn’t always have to go wrong.’
Discomfort etched his face, was clear in his stance as he rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets. ‘Leave it, Ruby.’
‘I can’t. You deserve love.’ How could she make him see that? ‘For what it’s worth, I love you.’
His face was leached of colour; blue-grey eyes burned with a light she couldn’t interpret. Eventually he stepped back.
‘It’s not love. It’s what you felt for Hugh, for