Abandoned?

“Can you keep a secret?” he asks as we wait for the train.

Of course I can, I think. I’ve never told anyone about my childhood crush, and how we used to make out behind his shed. I’ve never mentioned the night I came downstairs and saw my mum kissing my father’s brother – mostly because I’m not entirely convinced that was what I saw, but still. But this…

I sigh as I take his hands again. “Yes, and I will if you want me to. But are you sure about this?”

Once again there’s that stupid grin, half-scheming, half-proud, with a faint hint of malice in the glint of his eyes. “Yes. You can’t tell them, not at all. No matter what they say, alright? Promise me?”

“Okay.”

“No.” Now it’s his turn to grab my hands, and he kisses the backs of them before he asks again. “Promise me?”

“I promise,” I say, though it breaks my heart to do so.

And just like that he drops the subject, and starts rattling on about his home-town, and all the daft things he got up to as a teenager. The rest of the journey passes without us mentioning it again, all the hours on the train and in the taxi spent talking about superficial things while my guts churn.

At last we pull up outside his family home, and though he’s warned me the sight still makes me blink. I think back to Nathan’s room back at our university halls. Everything’s tidy and spotless, all his possessions tucked away in their proper place. He irons his shirts as soon as they’ve been washed. The fact he wears shirts to university lectures probably says more about him then I ever could.

The house in front of us is the antithesis of that. A couple of old children’s toys are buried in the calf-high grass, and I desperately try to remember if Nathan has ever mentioned younger siblings, or nieces and nephews. The roof is missing tiles, the odd patches making it look as though the place is balding. Combined with the faintly grimy windows, it’s as though the house is gracelessly succumbing to old age.

I pause just outside the taxi, while Nathan is still paying, and worry that I’ve made a terrible mistake. No. That’s stupid, and materialistic. Since when did I become so shallow that I would turn my back on someone I loved because their house looked a little… abandoned? As soon as I thought that though, another voice, that inner evil bitch that sits in the heart of all of us, chirps up with, ‘A little?!’

“All good?” Nathan asks as he slides an arm round my waist.

“Yeah. It’s nice.”

“You’re a terrible liar. Sure you can do this?” As he chuckles at that he kisses my forehead. “Come on. Better get this over with.” With one last wink – which I know is a reminder of my promise – he lugs his backpack over his shoulder and heads up to the door.

I’d expected nerves, but I’d expected them to be fun. Happy, squirmy butterflies as I meet my potential in-laws, and we awkwardly bond over our mutual love for this boy. Instead I feel utterly terrified, and far too aware of how much my shoes and earrings cost. Why did I dress up for this, damn it? He told me they weren’t rich. What the hell are they going to think of me?

It’s too late to back out now though. Nathan knocks on the door, and I’m still processing the fact that he doesn’t have his own key when it opens.

“Hi Mum.”

“Hello dear.” The woman at the door smiles at him, and there’s a stab of pain through my heart when I see that it isn’t the full, ear-to-ear grin that my own mother would give me. The woman is happy, but her world isn’t complete now that her son is home.

The pair of them have an awkward half-embrace, and I steal the chance to scoot down the path and catch up.

“And who’s this?” Nathan’s mum asks with a frown as she spots me. Bloody hell, Nate, didn’t you even tell them you were bringing me?!

“This is Hannah, Mum. I said I was bringing her, remember? You even asked about allergies and everything. Hannah, this is my mum Sue. Memory like a goldfish.”

Sue’s eyes go wide and she stares at me with an intensity that makes my hands shake a little more.

“Hello,” I said, giving a feeble wave. I half-expect her to say I’m not welcome, and send me packing there and then. Why else is she staring at me like I’m an alien?

“Oh gosh, yes, of course,” Sue blusters. “Hello. God, where are my manners? Come in, come in. Would you like a drink, Hannah? A cup of tea or something? We might have some wine somewhere, if you’d like?”

“Hey, I don’t get offered wine!” Nathan says.

“Hush!” It’s hard for me to tell if the smack to Nathan’s stomach is playful or serious, but either way it makes me more uncomfortable.

“Tea’s fine,” I say. In truth I’m not sure I can drink anything, but at the very least it’ll give me something to do with my hands, and a second alone with Nathan. Or so I’d thought.

“Of course, of course. Nathan, come and help in the kitchen. The living room’s just down that way, Hannah, go and make yourself at home.” And with that Sue waddles off through another door, herding Nathan along in front of her.

Sick though I feel, I remember my manners, and don’t heave the huge sigh of relief that I want to as soon as the kitchen door closes. I do steal a moment to gather myself however, and as I do I eye up the hallway around me.

The inside of the building is a lot better cared for than the outside. It’s clean-ish; I can still see a cobweb in the corner, but the sideboards are clear and dust-free. Not totally neglectful then. Just not bothered about how everyone else sees them. My own parents would rather be seen dead than with a lawn that wasn’t immaculate, but then they don’t have to be the ones to do anything about it. Money shifts the problem on to someone else, and all my parents do is bask in the glow of a job well done. Nathan’s gentle jibes about this during our first year at university together has helped me see that regimental grass isn’t the be-all and end-all of the world, but old habits are hard to kick.

Maybe that’s why he’s brought me here, to break the last of my prejudices. If only he hadn’t made me make that stupid promise though.

I start to make out the hushed conversation next door, and drag myself away down the corridor before my burning ears can pick out any of the words. The living room is far smaller than I’d expected, with most of one wall taken up by a ridiculous flat screen TV. DVDs are scattered around the floor in front of it, and although my fingers twitch I resist the urge to tidy them up. It’s rude to tidy up someone else’s house, my mother always says, though she normally finishes with ‘and the fact they haven’t done it can tell you plenty about them’.

The kettle starts humming from the kitchen, and the voices get a little louder, either to compensate or because the sound covers their noise. It’s still easy to hear the loud curse word however, just before the door in the hallway swings open and Sue power-walks into the living room.

“Alright there, Hannah?” she asks without even looking, instead making a beeline for the scattered DVD cases. With clumsy motions she gathers them all up, before dropping them unceremoniously down the side of the TV cabinet. “Would you like the TV on? Here you are, plenty of channels, feel free to browse. Tea won’t be a minute, alright?”

And just like that, with all the grace of a tornado, she was gone again, and I was left clutching the remote and watching some random trashy channel, far too loud for my liking. The racket blocks out my own thoughts though, and I figure Sue needs the safety blanket just as much as I do.

It’s more than a minute before the tea arrives, but I don’t mind, and there aren’t teacups, just a selection of mismatched mugs, which throws me off more. There's the uncomfortable, typical small talk – how many sugars, milk or not, and the obligatory British discussion on the best way to brew a cuppa – before the front door goes again, accompanied by the bangs and thuds of someone coming home. Although Sue tries to make a hasty get away to intercept the newcomer, the living room door bursts open before she can even get herself out the sofa.

“Hey! Nate!” the man who’d erupted into the room says. “Decided to grace us with your presence at last?” From the age difference this has to be his older brother, Jonathan, and I put my mug down in preparation for the introductions.

“Johnnie, behave yourself,” Sue says sternly, her eyes flicking across to me. “This is Nathan’s girlfriend, Hannah.”

I’m halfway to standing up for a handshake when he swears.

“Bullshit.”

“Johnnie!”

“There’s no way that slob has pulled her. She’s class, and gorgeous. So come on then, who is she really Nate?”

“What, can’t handle the fact I got a babe?” Nate says, his refined accent dropping further and further with each word, until it barely sounds like him at all. On her seat perched at the edge of the sofa, Sue has her head down, and her mug shakes lightly in her hands.

“I could handle it, little brother, I just don’t believe it. What lies did you tell her to hook her then?”

“No lies. Don’t need ‘em. Face it, I’m just awesome.”

No, no lies. Not to me at least. But this, this is a lie.

“Bull-”

“Johnnie! Will you mind your language!?” Poor Sue’s embarrassment overwhelms her, but it does little more than put a minor roadblock in Jonathan’s way. With a shrug he collapses into the last armchair, and steeples his fingers as he watches me.

“I’m sorry about that Hannah,” Sue says. “Now then, why don’t you tell us about yourself. What do your parents do?”

“And do you have any sisters?” Jonathan butts in. When his mother glares at him he shuffles further down into his seat, but keeps the smirk.

As I explain about my family, I do my best to keep our wealth out of the picture, but when your father’s a psychiatrist and your mother’s a lawyer, it’s pretty clear you come from money. I feel ashamed as I watch the blush creep across Sue’s face, and every now and then her eyes dart around the room, as though she’s only just noticing all the imperfections in her home.

“So what are you studying at university?” she asks at last.

Damn it. Too close now. The guilty knot in my stomach gets tighter. “Medicine,” I say, and watch as their eyebrows shoot up and their eyes go wide in admiration. If only you knew, if only I could say-

“Then why the hell are you dating my deadbeat brother? The idiot couldn’t even get through the first year of an art degree at uni, despite all the fuss that was made over him getting in.”

That’s when I catch the look that Sue gives her youngest son, and my heart utterly breaks. It’s a look of disappointment and pain, and I can only imagine how proud she’d been when Nathan had been accepted to such a prestigious place. Then he had flunked first year, and all her dreams of having a successful child, someone who could achieve something greater with his life, were shattered. Yet she still loves him, no matter the pain he caused her.

The pain we’re causing her. I’m in this too now. Because Nathan wasn’t a dropout who’d failed his first year exams; he’d aced them, in medicine no less, not art like he’d told his family he as studying. He was top of the cohort, even now when they were halfway through their second year.

Not only that, but he acts like it’s easy. I’m the only one who knows how much hard work he puts in. Nathan isn’t a natural genius, but he’s hard-working and determined. That’s what I love about him, but it’s the side he refuses to show anyone else. To our year group he finds everything stunningly simple, while to his family he’s an idiot.

And all the while he takes incredible pleasure at knowing something that no-one else does, and being completely unreadable to everyone.

With the same dread that I felt when I saw the state of the house, a creeping thought worms its way into my head. The bitch me is back, although this time I’m not sure she’s the evil one. Why do I love such an arsehole? An abandoned house is one thing. Abandoned morals is something else. What… what am I letting myself in for?

Nathan, with that borderline evil smirk again, just shrugs and winks at me. “I guess I’m just lucky hey? Must have a secret, or something.”