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Anthony must have a guy in the Border Force. That had to be it. There was no way he could have found out what time Colin landed in Heathrow.
He didn’t tell anyone about his itinerary because all he wanted to do was get home - no, find a sandwich, then go home, sleep, and take the train to Kent for his mum’s birthday dinner tomorrow.
He hadn’t even taken a third bite when he received a text from his older brother.
As a rule, Colin only replied to messages from Anthony after 45 minutes, unless it was an emergency. He cleared his phone screen, thumb swiping quickly, when he realised there might have been something in Ant’s message about Pen. At least he thought he spotted her name. Colin mumbled about his brother’s spies in border control operations as he opened the latest text.
AB: Trust you had a good flight. Welcome home.
“Hello to you too, business acquaintance.” Colin smirked at his brother’s peculiar but standard greeting.
AB: I know you’ll need to rest, but I’d appreciate it if you can let me know right away. There’s been a last-minute change of plans, Daph can’t drive El and Penelope to mum’s. Can you do it? Please pick them up tomorrow, 8-ish should be fine. Thanks. - A
Colin decided to finish his sandwich before replying. Not like it was a question of whether he could or would do it. When it came to requests from Anthony, the expected response was “Yes, your message came through Lord Bridgerton.”
He gave his brother grief about being a stiff upper lip aristocrat, but the boys knew someone had to take on the role, and it was never going to be Colin Bridgerton.
And thank heavens for that, he thought before taking another big bite of his sandwich. He sat outside Caffe Nero in Terminal 2, enjoying his sandwich while people-watching. Friday evenings tend to be busy with more people taking late flights to get a jumpstart on their weekend.
He liked observing people coming and going, giving them a backstory based on their gait or the number of suitcases they carried. Some well-dressed travelers trudged through security with a lost look, like they’d rather be somewhere else. Some looked like they just rolled out of bed and stuffed their backpack with random items, and happily took their scarves and hats off as they chatted with screeners.
Colin’s been on enough trips to know there are different kinds of journeys, all sorts of people - and that luggage tags and misplaced passports can only tell you so much about them.
He reached for the journal in his bag and scribbled a line on a fresh page. He might have a place for that sentence in the novel. Colin bit his pen, trying to figure out what was wrong with the sentence and suddenly his stomach lurched. He remembered the meeting with editors on Monday. He pressed a hand on his side, willing his body to calm down, reminding himself he was prepared for the meeting.
Colin made plans this Sunday to see a friend who used to work at Random House publishing, to get pointers for the meeting. He wrote notes and questions. He read the article Pen sent him months ago about self-publishing. She didn’t really say how or why she’s interested in the topic. He didn’t pry.
Two years ago he might have teased her until she explained why she’s googling “the art of publishing.”
Two years ago, the answer would probably have been something along the lines of “because we talked about you writing a book.”
It was a thing he had with Pen.
Pen sent him book and song recommendations. He’d be cleaning mud-streaked boots after a day’s hike out in Cardiff, while listening to her playlist of Welsh artists. She’d convinced him to pick up books at the airport based on the quality of the review, and not on the review itself.
He forwarded articles by his favorite writers. He should probably send Pen more of those than the ridiculous memes (mainly supplied by Greg) that make him giggle inexplicably for hours, but she says she doesn’t mind. From what Colin gathered, Eloise doesn’t find memes hilarious. She understood what makes them funny, but will she find herself laughing about Scumbag Steve hours later? No.
It used to be a thing.
They don’t interact much these days apart from the occasional travel photo he’d send. Nothing scandalous, but something he won’t post online or show his Mum because 90% of the time it will involve things like someone’s nunchucks and weapons collection or what his tent looks like after a snowstorm the night before. Three weeks ago she told him about a podcast on electronic music composition she’d gotten into, and while he did not know the first thing about writing music, he found himself listening to a few episodes on a particularly lonely evening, thinking about Pen and electronic music.
Colin folded the sandwich carton and napkins neatly into a pile before chucking them into the bin. It would be good to see what everyone was up to during the weekend. With a family as big as his, there was always someone who’s up to something. Driving down with the duo (Pen and El came as a package deal) would be a good way to ease into a weekend surrounded by family. Eloise would find a way to shift the conversation from Hyacinth’s dates to his travel plans, and Pen would shrug and give him a helpless smile, as if to say “I don’t control your sister” from the back of the car. It’ll be good.
He headed for the trains going to central London. While waiting at the station, he replied to Anthony and added a question about how his brother knew he’d already arrived.
AB: Thanks. I’ll talk to E tomorrow morning.
AB: If you want to keep your comings and goings a secret from this family, you should probably stop flirting with the cafe lady in T2 mate.
That made Colin laugh, surprising the people around him. He didn’t mind. It's these things that remind him how much he loved his brother - and their entire brood, to be honest.
CB: If I want to ask how Rebecca’s grandkids are doing I bloody will
CB: btw one of them is top of his class, do you need an intern in the office?
AB: No.
CB: Well you do now
***
“I thought you got in last night?” Eloise asked the next morning. Colin arrived at her apartment a little after eight.
“I did.” He accepted the suitcase she handed him with a grunt. “I thought it was an overnight stay at Mum’s?” Colin only brought a toothbrush and clothes for the party. He assumed he had old shirts stashed somewhere in the house.
“It is.” His sister mumbled as she checked her phone. “You look like razors haven’t been invented yet.”
Colin decided against commenting on the size of his sister’s suitcase. “Not all of us can look as good as you do at half-past eight in the morning alright?” He opened the passenger side door for his sister before plopping the suitcase in the boot.
Eloise grinned. “We should go. Pen’s waiting.” She rattled off directions as he got in the car.
“I know where she lives, thank you.” Sometimes his siblings treat him like he didn’t grow up in London, like being away for a couple of months made him a foreigner. He was good at remembering places and addresses. It was a pretty handy skill for someone in his line of work.
He glanced at himself in the mirror. Now that Eloise pointed it out, maybe he should have done something about the facial hair. It didn’t seem that bad yesterday, but then again he was at a sunny coastal town yesterday morning. The number of complaints he got about his face seemed to increase the closer he got to his childhood home. “Does she know we’re picking her up?”
His sister nodded absent-mindedly as he eased the car out of her street.
“Well?”
“I’ll tell her when we get there.”
The last time he’d been to Pen’s was to pick Eloise up. It must have been less than two years ago. Pen called him, explaining his sister’s drunken state, and that El can’t stay overnight because she had to leave the house early tomorrow morning. He remembered the conversation because of the way Pen glossed over the details of her trip.
He showed up at her flat but she didn’t invite him in. Pen ushered an unusually quiet Eloise through the door.
“Hold her by the arm. It was half a bottle of tequila. Bad day in the office.” Pen then reached out to grab his arm. “Hang on.” She disappeared inside the flat and returned with a handbag.
“Does my sister get drunk when I’m out of town?” Colin asked as they escorted Eloise down the hall.
Pen laughed. “No, we only go drinking when we know you’re around to pick us up.” She looked cosy in flannel pajamas, her hair pulled up at the top of her head. “She’s had about two glasses of water but it wouldn’t hurt to get her to drink a couple more glasses when she gets home.”
She brushed the hair out of Eloise’s face. “And whatever you do, don’t mention -” she looked at him and mouthed the name of El’s boss. “Because we don’t want this lady getting worked up again.”
“No.” He agreed. They joked about El’s famous temper while making their way to the car. Pen giggled as he recounted the time his sister subscribed to a psychic hotline using her brothers’ email addresses, to get back at them for excluding her from their “brothers only” activities.
“If Greg gets to go, you probably should’ve taken El too,” she added.
“You might have a point there.” He turned to her. “Personally, I don’t mind if El beats me at target practice because I’m the cool brother.”
“Of course. Everyone’s favorite,” she quipped with a deadpan expression. “But Greg, that guy is going to break so many hearts the moment he gets out of this youngest brother phase.”
“Hate to tell you this Pen, but that guy will always be the baby brother.”
Their laughter echoed in the quiet parking lot.
“In you go Ellie.” He placed a hand on top of his sister’s head, as she hopped in the car. “Mmm?” He thought he heard her mumbling while he strapped her in.
“You’re making her laugh. Don’t.” Eloise poked his cheek twice before sliding down the seat with her eyes closed.
“She’s ok?” Pen asked behind him.
Colin glanced at his sister, wondering if she had just passed out or was possibly eavesdropping. “Yeah, she’s good.” He closed the door. “So. What’s in Brighton tomorrow?” He knew she'd been invited by a guy she's dating. Eloise had not been forthcoming with that detail but there was always some other sibling who would talk.
“Wedding.”
“Not yours I hope.” He winked.
“No, not that I know of,” she fired back with a smug grin.
It was supposed to be funny, but the joke implied she could come back married.
It shouldn’t bug him, but it did. Colin changed the subject. “So do I get an apartment tour when you get back?”
***
All he knew about Pen’s flat was that it had a door and decent parking. He never had a reason to drop by her place again until his mother’s birthday. Maybe El’s alcohol tolerance had improved. He’d been travelling a lot in the past few months anyway. Colin hadn’t thought about that night in a while.
Not that he spent a lot of time analysing Pen's and his sister’s drinking habits. That would be weird.
Eloise spent the entire drive to Pen’s syncing her phone with the car speakers.
“You’re picking the music?” He asked.
The look she gave him said “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Fine.” Colin kept his eyes on the road. Pen’s building was right around the corner. “Do I need to park?”
“No, parking around here sucks now; they’ve limited access to residents. We can wait outside.” Eloise frowned at him. “Use a brush sometimes, Colin,” she said before looking out of the window. “There she is.”
He saw Pen waiting by the building door, her striking red hair unmissable from the distance. He could always pick her out from a crowd in seconds. Not as handy as being good with maps, but he liked knowing he could do it anyway. He killed the engine and Eloise stepped out to greet her friend.
Colin ran a hand through his hair, just in case Eloise wasn’t pulling his leg. He can’t do much about his face or the state of his hair now. After a minute, he stepped out of the car to stretch his legs. The ladies were laughing as they approached the car.
“What’s so funny?”
Both of them stopped laughing, although Pen greeted him with a shy smile. She looked good in a white t-shirt and jeans. She always dressed comfortably, favoring classic pieces over flashy prints or colors. It was like she knew she turned heads anyway so she didn’t have to do much else.
“Let me get that for you Pen.” He stepped forward to get her bag, accidentally grabbing her hand during the exchange. It wasn’t like they’ve never had physical contact. He used to greet her with hugs when she was still in school. They’d nudge each other under the table during parties.
It wasn’t supposed to be weird and yet he found himself needing to get them over that blink and you’ll miss it awkward moment, by bringing up Hyacinth’s party. Pen wasn’t at the birthday dinner a month ago. He never got a clear answer from anyone about where she was that day either. Was it guitar lessons? El told him about classes that Pen had been taking.
He’d seen her play once - she sounded pretty good already, he wondered if she’d been taking advanced classes then? He’d cornered her during Sophie’s party and got her to play the baby guitar. She gave him a funny look before asking if he meant the ukulele.
Something about the way she carried the instrument told him she knew how to play it. Could be her fingers fiddling with the strings as she looked at photos of Ben and Sophie in the sitting room. She appeared to be tuning the guitar almost unconsciously because she wasn't even looking at it as she adjusted the strings. Obviously, he wasn’t letting her out of the room until he got a song from her.
“What do I get for playing a song for you?” She arched her brow.
He was not expecting that response. It was almost a taunt - her gaze was warm, but there was something in the slick tone and the barely-there pout that caught Colin off-guard. He’d admit to flirting with her sometimes because he liked the way she smiled and he knew he’d get her attention by telling a joke - Pen had the good sense to find them funny, unlike the rest of his family.
Now, Penelope Featherington flirting with him, that’s not something one sees frequently.
He kind of liked it.
She started playing a song and Pen was even better than he anticipated. Colin racked his brain, trying to recall if she ever told him about playing any musical instrument before. Surely he’d remember something like this?
She smiled self-consciously as she played, urging him to sing along. Colin watched her swaying with the ukulele, head bobbing to the beat. It struck him that playing the guitar made her happy. She wasn’t used to playing for an audience, that part made her timid, but he bet she loved sitting at home, playing music for herself.
It wasn’t too long before her performance lured the rest of his family to the room. Colin observed everyone being enthralled by the relaxing music and the way Pen coaxed people into dancing and singing along. He waltzed to the beat with his nephews, enjoying the lighthearted atmosphere in the room.
She surprised him that day.
As he stowed her bag next to El's massive suitcase, Colin brought up the baby guitar again, just to see how Pen would react. She blushed and he waited for her to tell him what grown-ups actually called the instrument, but she didn’t. Instead, she was all mumbles and shrugs, and before he could ask another question, she’d gotten inside the car.
It wasn’t like he was going to ask her to play another song again, he was simply making small talk. He took a quick look at Pen through the rear windshield and wondered if she was avoiding him.
No. Pen was the only person who was going to be at the family dinner who didn’t think he was insufferable. Why would she avoid him?
She gave him that smile when she walked over only a few minutes ago; it was the same smile she always had for him, small and contained, like she was on the verge of laughing, but her eyes said otherwise. She looked at him like he had just told her a funny story and only the two of them were in on the joke.
She smiled at him and he’d smile back. It was a thing they’d been doing for years.
Why the heck would he think she’s avoiding him now?