|Home > Samantha Young > On Dublin Street Series > Moonlight on Nightingale Way (Page 15)|
|Moonlight on Nightingale Way(On Dublin Street #6)(15) by Samantha Young|
“Your sister?” Maia said, her eyes brightening with curiosity.
Logan groaned and rubbed his hand over his short hair. “I don’t know for certain if you’re my kid.”
I just managed to contain my snort, but he shot me a dirty look anyway, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“How did this happen? Two minutes ago I was just… You can’t stay here, Maia. I have to take you back to your mum, and then I’ll have to talk to her about all of this.”
Maia stood up. “Please. I don’t want to go back. That’s why I’m here. You don’t know what it’s like there.”
Faced with her fear, Logan could only stare at her helplessly.
When the silence stretched between them, turning physically painful to be around, I stood up. “Maia, you can’t stay here with Logan. It isn’t right. He could get in trouble. He’ll have to take you home until this can all be sorted out.”
She bowed her head, her dark hair falling like a curtain and hiding her face. But we both heard her quiet sniffles.
Logan gave me a look as if to say, What the hell else can I do?
I gave him a bolstering smile.
And for my troubles… “You’re coming with us,” Logan said to me.
Oh no. “To Glasgow?” I squeaked. No. Absolutely not. I was exhausted. I did not need to witness an emotional roller coaster on top of my exhaustion.
“No. I…” My refusal trailed off when Maia abruptly looked up at me, her watery eyes begging me.
They both needed a buffer.
“Okay.” I reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m coming with you.”
You know in those old Western movies when they shot scenes of bales of hay blowing down empty main streets of small towns? The wind would whistle in exaggeration, the only sound to break through the silence…
Let’s just say it came to mind as Logan drove us to Glasgow. I didn’t even know he had a car. I didn’t know enough about cars to know exactly what it was. I just knew it was some kind of Volkswagen and it was at least five years old. It was dusty from disuse.
We were twenty minutes into the journey and Logan had informed me it would take about an hour and twenty minutes to get to Maia’s council estate. Someone had to talk. The silence was becoming unbearable.
“You know, I’ve only ever been to Glasgow city center. For shopping. At Christmas. Oh, and I’ve been to the theater and out for drinks. There’s so much going on in the city center, you just forget how big the rest of the city is.”
I got nothing.
“Did you know it used to be the fourth-largest city in Europe?” I rambled on. “That was quite a feat, considering how tiny we are as an island. I think it was the largest after London, Paris, and Berlin, and it was also called the ‘Second City in the British Empire’ in the Victorian era, and of course it’s Scotland’s largest city and the third largest in Britain, so it’s really no wonder I haven’t seen much of it, I suppose, although I lived in London and managed to see quite a bit of that growing up. I could ha—”
“Grace,” Logan interrupted. His eyes were still focused on the road in front of him, but I could see he was struggling not to smile. “We’ve got it. Glasgow’s big.”
I heard a small giggle from the backseat, and instead of feeling embarrassed by my nervous ramblings, I smiled. I’d gotten a giggle out of Maia. Or Logan had. Or we had. It didn’t matter who or what; it just mattered that on an exceptionally trying day, the shy little lost girl in the backseat had laughed.
I turned a little in my seat to look behind me. Maia’s sad eyes stared into mine. “Do you do well in school, Maia?”
She nodded cautiously.
I had a feeling she did. I gave her a smile of encouragement. “What subjects do you enjoy?”
“I like maths and physics. Mum doesn’t get it. She liked art at school.”
“I liked maths and physics,” Logan said quietly. “I was good at maths and physics.”
Maia stared at the back of his head and offered shyly, “I get A’s.”
I watched his face soften. “Good,” he murmured.
That awkward silence began to fall again.
“Well, I’m rubbish at maths and physics,” I said. “I had a tutor.” I made a face. “He was this horrible pretentious boy in the year above me.” I’d hated him. Lawrence Trevelyn. Sebastian had dared Lawrence to put his hand up my skirt and cop a feel during a lesson. I’d felt violated and frightened by the whole thing, and it had taken me a good while to let a boy get near me again.
“You all right, Grace?” Logan suddenly asked.
I caught him glance at me quickly, his brows puckered. Surprised by his perceptiveness I couldn’t say anything for a moment.
“I’m fine.” I turned to Maia and smiled again, brushing the memories off. “Do you like English?”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m not as good at it. I only get B’s.”
“Well, I’ve got a degree in it if you ever need help. I’m a freelance book editor.” I said it without thinking, and I sensed Logan tense beside me.
Maia, however, looked hopeful. “Really? That’s cool. And you’d help me, really?”
Oh bugger. I’d gone and put my foot in it now. Logan had only just met the girl. He had no idea what was going on, what the future held, and here was his silly neighbor attaching herself to his… possible child. Feeling guilty, I had no recourse, however, but to say, “Of course. I’ll give you my number so you can give me a ring if you ever have a question.”