Page 56 of The Sound Between Us

“Dinner’s ready, you heathens.”

Damon claps his hands together. “Ah, the sacred Monday roast. Can’t miss Family Day, even if it means eating Sunday dinner on the wrong bloody day.”

We gather around the ridiculously long dining table that has absolutely no business in a house of people who eat most of their meals in dressing gowns. I end up wedged between Kimba and Felix, a fate I probably deserve for some past sin.

Hailey eyes the platter of roast beef as though it’s roadkill.

“Oh, I can’t eat that,” she announces.

Everyone freezes.

“I’m doing this thing where I only eat food that’s been kissed by moonlight and blessed by a Himalayan goat.”

Silence.

“Right.” Felix says. “Well, I’ve got scurvy just listening to that.”

Mrs Martin rolls her eyes and plonks an extra Yorkshire on my plate. “Eat up, love. Someone’s got to absorb the carbs in this family.”

Damon’s grinning, as though all this chaos is his favourite meal.

And then, casually, as though it means nothing: “By the way—Seren’s been writing again.”

Every head turns. I nearly choke on my roast potato.

“It’s nothing.”

“She’s being modest.” Damon leans back, sipping red wine as though it’s truth serum. “You should see what she had on the piano. Gorgeous melody; she’s got the real stuff, this one.”

I stare at my fork; at the mashed remnants of parsnip. Anything but them.

“You should use the studio. Get in there this week; lay down a track.”

“I’m busy.”

“With what?” Felix asks, amused. “Berating teenagers and alphabetising regrets?”

I flick a pea at him. It hits his lapel and bounces off.

“You should do it.” Kimba says sweetly. “Get it out of your system.”

Hailey’s still scrolling. “Honestly, if I had talent, I’d be using it every second of the day. But, well, I don’t. So I just use my face.”

“Truly a feminist icon.” Felix murmurs.

Damon raises a glass. “To creativity; and being a dysfunctional, highly marketable family.”

Everyone toasts. I sip water as though it’s vodka and pretend I’m anywhere else.

Then he drops it. The grenade.

“I’m heading to LA later in the week. You should all come with me.”

I freeze, and everyone’s eyes turn to me as though I’m suddenly the most interesting thing at the table.

Kimba claps her hands together. “Oh, that would be lovely.”

“We’re not doing the Kardashians in LA, are we?” Hailey frowns, looking genuinely concerned.

Felix nudges my shoulder with his elbow. “Sunshine might warm up your soul.”

“Can’t.” I shake my head, stabbing at my carrots. “I’ve got the shop to think about.”

They all snort at this. Dad bangs the table as though I’ve just punch-lined his life.

But all I can think is: Harrison Carter is in LA.

And the only thing worse than being near him... is wanting to be.

I force a smile and stab a carrot. “I’ll think about it.”

Which is code for: absolutely not.

Except... now I am thinking about it.

And that’s the problem. That’s always the bloody problem.