Twenty Years a Stranger (The Stranger Series Book 1)

by Deborah Twelves

  She consoled herself with the fact that at least she had Dexter. John had turned up with the gorgeous little bundle of fur when he was just three months old, placing him in her arms as he stepped onto the boat one evening. He said he would be able to keep her company on the nights when he couldn’t be with her. Dexter had taken to the canal boat surprisingly well and he was a firm favourite with all the regulars, wandering around on the hunt for treats in his red, doggy life vest. Lorraine knew he was happy to be anywhere so long as he was with her. He was going to love his new home in the country with all that space to explore.

  As soon as they were properly installed, Lorraine was desperate to show off their new home, knowing it symbolised a new stage in their relationship and would finally silence the doubters, namely her brother and her best friend Harriet. John was not a big socialiser and certainly not a fan of parties, so she picked her moment carefully to broach the subject with him.

  ‘Let’s have a bit of a get-together, a sort of house-warming party. Fairly low key. Just Harriet and Keith, Gerald and his family. I’ll ask Mark and Susan as well, but I doubt they’ll be able to make it,’ she began, breezily.

  Lorraine’s younger brother Mark worked in the oil industry and he and his partner lived up in Aberdeen, Scotland so she rarely saw him these days. She looked at John cautiously to gauge his reaction as he replied.

  ‘I suppose so if you want to. I have to say though, they’re not really my kind of people and, to be honest, I didn’t think they were yours either,’ he said, pulling a face. ‘Didn’t you fall out with Harriet after that big row you had a while back?’

  He looked at her questioningly, before adding:

  ‘And I’m sorry, but you have to admit your brother is a pompous arse.’

  ‘Oh come on John, he’s still my brother for God’s sake. I know you both have had your differences, but if you could maybe relax with him and get to know him a bit better, I’m sure you’d like him. He’s just over-protective where I’m concerned, after all the shit I went through with Bernard. Try to get on with him, for my sake. As for Harriet, I’ve known her forever. Anyway, they’ll all have to change their tune now that we’ve got the house together. We’re a proper couple now,’ she finished, brightly.

  ‘As I said, they’re just not my kind of people and I don’t really get the whole ‘family thing’. If you feel you have to do it, then go ahead, but I draw the line at Gerald’s kids. They’re out of control at the best of times and I don’t want them breaking anything. Anyway, I’ve got to go into town for a couple of things now, so I’ll see you a bit later.’

  With that, he kissed her and left, obviously keen to get away and avoid any further discussion on the subject.

  Lorraine was disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm for her party idea, but she was determined to improve their joint social life. She and John had been together now for over seven years and she was devoted to him, but she was aware that she had gradually drifted further apart from her family and even her close friends. John always said he preferred to have her all to himself, but she needed other people when he wasn’t there.

  Despite her enthusiasm, she knew the party would not be without its challenges. Gerald, her over-cautious and over-protective older brother did not approve of her and John buying a house together, making it clear he felt she was stretching herself beyond her means. For some unknown reason, he had taken a dislike to John from day one and, because of that their relationship had become strained. She loved him dearly, but he just couldn’t resist sticking his nose in and trying to spoil things for her. She was certain it was a jealousy thing. Her brother was an accountant, who admittedly made a decent living and had a nice house on the outskirts of Peterborough, but he was never going to set the world on fire or be able to afford the lifestyle that she and John now enjoyed. To put it bluntly, he was Mister Average, with two kids and a primary school teacher for a wife. He drove a Volvo estate and his wife a Ford Fiesta. John always said you could tell a lot about people from the cars they drove, and it was certainly not meant as a compliment in her brother’s case. Gerald, on the other hand, thought John’s Porsche was far too showy, labelling him an arrogant braggart who was not to be trusted. It was clear to Lorraine from the start that they would never be best buddies and she put it all down to envy on her brother’s part.

  Then there was Harriet. Her best friend. Somehow they had fallen out a year or so earlier and things had never been quite the same since. Lorraine still remembered the occasion vividly and cringed at the harsh words they had both hurled at each other. The trouble was that once hurtful things are thrown out there, they can never be taken back and they are rarely truly forgotten.

  She had planned to see John the weekend of the argument, but he rang to cancel at the last minute as there was a major problem at work. ‘The joys of owning your own business,’ he had said, with a troubled sigh. Lorraine wondered how many times she had heard that phrase, but she knew the score and, as usual, he had promised to make it up to her the following weekend by taking her away to her favourite hotel in Kent for a mini-break. Lorraine had hung up, looked miserably at all the food and wine she had bought in for their weekend together and decided to call Harriet on the off chance that she was free. A few hours later they were sitting together with a large glass of Prosecco, just like old times, although there had been a couple of barbed jibes from Harriet about always being the stand-in dinner date.

  She was quick to start quizzing Lorraine on her relationship with John.

  ‘So I take it things are still going well with you and John? I hardly ever see you these days, now you’re all loved up.’

  She laughed as she said it, but there was a hint of awkwardness between them that had never been there before.

  ‘I really love him, Harriet. He makes me happy. He spoils me whenever I see him and between you and me, the sex is out of this world,’ she giggled.

  Lorraine knew she sounded smug, but couldn’t help herself.

  ‘Whoa, too much information thanks. I’m glad for you, I really am, it’s just.…’

  She did not finish the sentence.

  ‘Just what?’ Lorraine snapped, immediately on the defensive.

  ‘Okay, so where is he this time then? Let me guess…another problem at work? I just think…well, he does seem to let you down an awful lot.’

  Harriet stopped and looked at her friend with a concerned expression, but Lorraine leapt to John’s defence as usual.

  ‘Yes actually, it is another problem at work. It’s called owning your own business Harriet, not something you and Keith would understand anything about.’

  Harriet bristled at the condescending tone of her friend but decided to let it go.

  ‘We know plenty about hard work, thank you very much. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. If I’m honest, you’ve been together what…six years now isn’t it? Well then, I don’t get why you haven’t moved in together properly, or why you’ve never met any of his family. You haven’t even been to visit him to see where he lives, have you? Don’t you think that’s weird? He seems to just turn up randomly at your place whenever he feels like sex.’

  Lorraine felt the familiar anger bubbling up inside her.

  ‘That shows how much you know then,’ she retorted. ‘And for your information, we are looking for a place to buy together right now. Why are you always so down on him anyway? You just can’t bring yourself to be happy for me, can you? Do you know what I think? I think you’re jealous. You’ve never really given him a chance. You’ve got a massive chip on your shoulder just because you’re stuck with a boring, predictable husband who’s never likely to make more than forty grand a year if he’s lucky.’

  Lorraine recalled the conversation in the pub a while ago; when John had rather tactlessly said to Harriet that he couldn’t understand how anyone could possibly survive these days on less than a hundred grand a year. She had not been impressed with him at the time and could not believe she had just said such a cras
s thing to Harriet, but there was no taking it back now.

  ‘You snotty bitch!’ her friend retaliated. ‘When did you get to be so up yourself? It wasn’t so long ago you were on the bones of your arse with no idea how you were going to make ends meet and snivelling to me about it. You’ve got a short memory, haven’t you? I’ve always been there for you and always tried to support you, but it seems that I’m surplus to requirements, now you’ve got your precious John. I just hope for your sake he doesn’t drop you from a great height, because the way you’re going, you’ll be left high and dry with no-one to pick up the pieces.’

  ‘Well, that’s fine by me, because I trust him and I know he won’t let me down. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think you prefer it when I’m unhappy and things are going wrong for me. That way you get to play Saint Harriet, don’t you? There’s nothing you enjoy better than a drama at someone else’s expense,’ Lorraine spat, unable to stop herself.

  ‘Oh my God, you’re certainly showing your true colours now, aren’t you? I’ve stood by you and put up with your vile temper and mood swings over the years. And don’t forget I’ve seen what you’re really capable of. I always gave you the benefit of the doubt, but it just goes to show how wrong you can be. Friendship clearly means nothing to you. You’re just out for number one, always have been.’

  ‘Yeah, right. It’s not like I didn’t have to put up with more than my fair share of you whining about your boring marital problems over the years. I think we’re quits on that score, don’t you? Anyway, I think we’d better change the subject and agree to differ before we both say things we regret.’

  ‘I think it’s a bit late for that, don’t you? The pair of you deserve each other.’

  On that note, Harriet stood up, reached for her coat and flounced out, fighting back the tears.

  They had barely seen each other since.

  Lorraine looked around her at her shiny, new kitchen and realised how much she missed her best friend. She regretted the argument and knew it was up to her to bury the hatchet once and for all and get their friendship back on track, before it was too late.

  She sent out messages inviting the select little crowd to dinner, adults-only, of course, to keep John happy. To her delight, Harriet graciously accepted the olive branch. Lorraine made a mental note to remind her not to put anything on Facebook. John hated all social media and refused to engage with any of it, declaring that in his opinion it robbed people of both time and privacy. He liked to keep his social life private and was paranoid about his customers knowing anything about him. Lorraine kind of got that and respected his wishes. She was seldom on Facebook herself these days anyway, but Harriet was a different kettle of fish. She was prolific on social media and regularly posted updates on every insignificant event in her life, including pictures of what she was having for dinner, tagging friends right left and centre. John would do his nut if she put anything on about him or their new house.

  By the time the night of the party arrived, Lorraine had the house looking exactly as she wanted, with scented candles and scatter cushions everywhere, just like she had seen in the magazines she read. She had cooked a Beef Stroganoff in her new Aga, which was one of John’s favourite dishes and also happened to be one of only two things she could pull off with any degree of success. It was just the six of them in the end, and she was pleased to note that John and Gerald seemed to be on their best behaviour with each other. John was an expert at ensuring everyone’s glass was always full, although there was an awkward moment when he picked up the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon Gerald had brought as an offering, he did not attempt to hide his disdain for what he considered to be cheap plonk. She knew he fancied himself as a bit of a wine buff, but she cringed as he raised his eyebrows, shoved it in the cupboard and opened a bottle of Barolo from his own stock in the wine rack. Fortunately, Gerald had already had a fair amount to drink and did not appear to notice.

  Once the meal was finished, everyone retired to the lounge, leaving Lorraine to clear away with the help of Gerald, who was obviously looking for an opportunity to catch her alone.

  ‘The place is lovely. I have to admit, you’ve done a great job of doing it up.’

  He nodded appreciatively as he surveyed his surroundings.

  ‘Thanks so much. I knew you’d love it.’

  Lorraine beamed happily at him, grateful for his approval.

  ‘You must come back soon and bring the kids. They’ll have such fun exploring in the garden.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he murmured, thoughtfully. ‘I’m not so sure John would approve of that idea. Who’s actually paying for all this if you don’t mind me asking?’

  Gerald had changed the subject abruptly, always one for getting straight to the point. Lorraine felt her hackles rise, as she realised where the conversation was heading.

  ‘You know perfectly well the mortgage is in my name for the moment. John intends to pay it off in full just as soon as the money comes in from the job he’s working on.’

  ‘Ah, right,’ Gerald laughed wryly, not one for keeping his thoughts to himself.

  ‘To be honest, Lorraine, I think the man is full of shit. I don’t trust him further than I can throw him.’

  ‘Well I do trust him,’ she hissed. ‘And I’m warning you, I will not have you speaking about John like that in our home. Get back in there with the others and leave me to sort this lot out. You just can’t help yourself, can you?’

  Lorraine was furious with her brother, who had the unfailing ability to make her feel about five years old. What was it with him? Why did he always have to piss on her bonfire? She clattered around in the kitchen for a bit, trying to calm herself down before making coffee and going through to salvage what was left of the evening.

  At least things seemed to be back to normal with Harriet now. She had come into the kitchen earlier to help serve dinner and they had both ended up blurting out how sorry they were at the same time. Prosecco always helped in those situations and after a few tears, they had hugged each other tightly, promising to get together more regularly.

  By the time everyone left, Lorraine felt drained, mainly from having to play peacekeeper most of the night and prevent John from lording it too much over her brother. She sighed and put her arms around his neck.

  ‘See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ he said grudgingly, then suddenly cheered up as he remembered something.

  ‘Did you see your brother’s face when I told him how much the home gym had cost? And when I showed him the pictures of my cars and told him what they were worth, I thought he was going to explode.’

  Lorraine sighed and frowned.

  ‘I just wish you wouldn’t wind him up so much all the time.’

  ‘Sorry, but he deserves it. Now come to bed. I’ve waited long enough to get you all to myself.’

  He thrust himself suggestively against her hip, clearly turned on by the evening’s bragging.

  Later that night Lorraine lay awake in bed, as John snored drunkenly beside her, having fallen asleep before she got anywhere near the bedroom. Gerald’s words had got to her, despite her protestations. She had mortgaged herself up to the hilt, knowing it was only temporary but, if she was being honest, things had not entirely gone to plan. John had told her there were some temporary problems and unforeseen complications with the job in America. They were behind schedule with it, it was still not finished and they were now being sued by the ‘totally unreasonable customers’. John was having to plough more and more of his own money into the company to finance lawyers and keep everything going, but the long and short of it was that he was not in any position to pay off the mortgage or return the money for the canal boat at the moment. John was confident he would win the lawsuit and get substantial damages and costs in the end as the customer was completely in the wrong but, as he pointed out to her, these things have a habit of dragging on before they are finally resolved, sometimes for years.

  No matter. The
y were a team now and her job was to support him through this in any way she could.

  The Acceptance

  When faced with a difficult situation there are only three choices: leave it, change it or accept it.

  Grace

  The red Porsche Boxter in Champney’s car park had its hood down and there was a massive gold bow attached to the windscreen. Daniel had taken me away for the weekend to the luxury spa hotel near London to celebrate my thirty-fifth birthday and the car caught my eye as we walked through the grounds of the hotel on our way to dinner. Daniel said nothing, but as he turned to me he held up a car key attached to a red leather Porsche key ring.

  ‘Oh my God, you are kidding me!’ I shrieked in excitement.

  ‘Nope. It’s all yours.’ He dropped the keys into my hand and grinned at my reaction.

  ‘Happy birthday, Hun.’

  ‘Hun! That’s a bit American, isn’t it?’ I laughed, as I took the keys and ran over to the car, unable to believe it was really mine. Daniel was fond of grand gestures and always seemed to be able to pull something out of the bag when things were a bit sticky between us. It was as if he felt the need to prove how much he loved me by spoiling me with an extravagant present. Or maybe he just wanted to distract me. I already had a dog and a horse. And now I had a brand new sports car.

  What I did not have was a baby.

  I still didn’t understand why Daniel was so against the idea of us starting a family. We had plenty of money most of the time, although admittedly there were a few problems with the business at the moment. Nevertheless, I was sure things would work themselves out and I was certain we could give a child a great life. I had always imagined I would have children and it left a huge void that just couldn’t be filled with anything else. I was also sick of fielding all the questions from friends and family about it and became defensive as soon as the subject was broached. Strangers were just as bad.