wanted to trust him but she’d been let down too many times in the past. ‘I have trouble with trust.’
‘The ride is nearly over.’ His voice was quiet and sure. ‘You’re okay. You’re safe.’
The ride slowed and the music ceased and the building came back into focus. Abi looked around. She was safe, she could see no immediate threats, but she needed to get outside; needed to escape these four walls. She stood up, eager to get off the carousel. Her legs were shaky but Damien kept hold of her hand, steadying her.
Summer was already down off her horse. ‘Can I have another turn?’ she asked, but Abi barely heard her.
‘Not right now.’
Abi was itching to make a run for it but Damien hadn’t let go of her hand. She tried taking some deep breaths, focusing on the connection with Damien. Letting his strength anchor her, allowing him to stop her from taking flight. She had Jonty’s lead in one hand, Damien in the other. She should be okay.
‘But I want to ride on the bunny rabbit,’ Summer insisted.
‘Jonty needs some fresh air,’ Damien told her, and that was the end of the discussion. Summer didn’t bother to argue further. At the moment, whatever Jonty needed he got. He was Summer’s number-one priority. Abi forced her legs to move towards the exit as she wondered if she should suggest that Damien get Summer a dog of her own. It would be good company for her if she was destined to be an only child. Abi knew how much Jonty’s company had come to mean to her and she could imagine how much she would have loved a dog growing up. She saw a lot of similarities between her own childhood and Summer’s situation, though with one big difference. Summer had a father who adored her but that didn’t necessarily mean he had the time to devote to her. A dog would be a distraction, a responsibility and a companion for her.
Summer skipped ahead of them and if she noticed Damien and Abi holding hands she didn’t comment. Abi pulled her hand from Damien’s as they followed Summer outside. As nice as it felt, it also made her feel uncomfortable.
Summer was heading towards the Beach Bounce, a trampoline and bungee harness contraption that allowed children, or adults, to jump and twist and turn without the danger of falling. ‘What about this?’ she asked. ‘Can I try it?’
Damien turned to Abi. ‘Will you be okay here?’ he asked.
Abi needed to be where she could keep an eye on the situation, where she would be able to see what was coming her way. The Beach Bounce was on the edge of the pier. She could stand on the far side of the trampoline so that her back was to the water as she faced the pier. No one could come up behind her. She nodded and made her way around the trampoline.
Damien paid for Summer’s ticket, put her into the queue and then came to stand with Abi.
‘Shouldn’t you wait with Summer?’ Abi asked. Her anxiety was still in hyper-drive.
‘I can watch her from here. It will be her turn in a few minutes.’
Abi kept her back to the water and let her eyes roam over the pier. Jonty sat on her right and Damien stood to her left. He was turned slightly sideways, shielding her a little, his posture protective, and she felt quite safe.
‘She hasn’t been on this before?’ Abi asked as she watched Summer, who had been strapped into the harness and was now turning somersaults and bouncing higher and higher as her confidence built.
‘No. I don’t remember this being here last time we came to the pier or perhaps she was too small. Lots of the rides have a height restriction.’
‘Why are you spending your Sundays out exploring LA?’ she asked.
‘I’m from San Francisco originally but we moved here two years ago. Brooke pushed for the move to further her career. I admit I resisted the idea but when it became clear that she would go with or without me I realised I had to move, for Summer’s sake.’
So he had moved for his family, for Brooke, and now she had taken off again, this time to New York. Abi wondered whether he would follow Brooke again, for Summer’s sake. She would do well to remember that he was a man who came with baggage.
‘Do you miss San Francisco?’
Damien nodded. ‘I do. It’s taken me a while to feel like I belong here, I’m still not sure that I do. I love working at The Hills but LA is a completely different type of city and we’re still finding our feet. What about you? Where did you grow up?’
‘Here.’
‘Here? You’re a native?’
‘We do exist, you know.’
‘I know, it’s just that almost everyone I’ve met has moved here from somewhere else.’
‘That’s the movie business, no doubt.’
‘I guess so. So you’d be the perfect tour guide for me and Summer, then. You could show us all your favourite childhood haunts.’
‘I think my childhood might have been different from the one you’re imagining. It would certainly be different from the one you’d be dreaming of for Summer.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
Abi wasn’t sure how to answer. She found it odd that Damien wanted to know about her. She wasn’t used to talking about herself—in fact, she usually tried to avoid it unless it was in a controlled environment, like with her therapist.
‘I didn’t have the idyllic childhood you might be picturing. I never knew my father, he abandoned us shortly after I was born, and my mother...’ Abi paused. Even after thirty years she always hesitated when it came to describing her mother. She’d loved Abi in the best way she’d known how but she’d suffered from depression, which had manifested into substance abuse, mostly alcohol, and there had been plenty of times when Abi had just had to manage as best she could. Despite Summer’s mother’s failing in the child-raising department, she doubted it would match those of her own mother. ‘Let’s say she struggled to cope with raising me on her own. We didn’t spend weekends at the pier or at theme parks.’ Abi had spent a lot of her childhood alone.
‘Is your mum still in LA?’
Abi shook her head. ‘She’s dead.’
‘I’m sorry. Was it recent?’
‘No. She died in a car accident just after I turned eighteen.’ Abi had been alone for almost half her life. Long enough to be used to it, and to know she didn’t like it, but not long enough to get over the guilt.
She had left home at seventeen to join the army. She’d been unable to continue to live with her mother, she couldn’t be responsible for her any more, but she had always blamed herself a bit for the accident. She wondered if it would have made a difference if she hadn’t left but she’d known she’d had to get away. Her home life had been toxic. She had never known whether her mother had suffered from depression before her father had left them. She could have had post-natal depression which had perhaps been exacerbated by Abi’s father’s abandonment, but, whatever the cause or the reason, her mother had turned to alcohol as her crutch and one day she had crashed her car into a tree. Abi had wondered if it had been suicide but had never been sure. She’d just been so relieved that no one else had been hurt.
She still carried the guilt. For her mother’s death, among other things. Her therapist had told her time and again that she was not responsible for her mother’s accident or her father’s abandonment or Mark’s death, but Abi found it difficult to move on. She had carried so much guilt for so long that she didn’t know how to let it go.
Caroline had also told her she needed to talk about these things, that it didn’t help to bottle things up and let them fester. She had suggested that if she talked about them she took away the power they had to hurt her, that it would make the problems smaller, but Abi didn’t know how to do that.
Summer’s turn on the Beach Bounce