By lunchtime I know that I need more of a distraction, so I pull out the pile of information and find the number of the agent handling the sale of the store and flat. We chat briefly about my interest, and he offers to come over and do a viewing. Twenty minutes later Rufus is showing me around the store and I am bursting with excitement at the possibilities. When we head upstairs to the flat, I can see in my mind’s eye Taylor’s drawings. I desperately want to buy the property, but until I have the funds in place, there is no way I can do anything about it.
Rufus tells me that he will put forward my interest to the owner. Apparently, money is not so much the issue as the purchaser; the owner knows Andreas’ father and wants to ensure the right person buys the building, so that it doesn’t impact on the bakery business. This makes me smile and gives me hope that maybe he will be prepared to wait for me to get the money together. I feel optimistic that maybe I might just be able to pull this together.
I spend the rest of the afternoon daydreaming in between actually making various calls to place ads for the extra staff we need. I am startled back to reality when I notice how dark it has gotten outside, so I head down to the store to catch up with Bea on the orders for tomorrow. I am just coming through from the kitchen when a voice sends chills through me.
“Where is she? Get her down here at once!” Taylor’s mother is standing imperiously across the counter, tapping her long painted fingernails on the wood. I step forward, not wanting to expose Bea to Taylor’s mother’s rage.
“I am here, Mrs Hudson. What can I do for you?” I ask politely, doing my best to conceal my nerves over her appearance. I glance around, taking note that there are several customers in the shop doing their best not to be seen as eavesdropping.
Gillian whips her head round and, with a look of distaste, slowly runs her eye over me. My skin crawls but I breathe deeply, trying to maintain a calm façade, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of letting her see my discomfort at her presence.
“Well, at least you aren’t showing yet.” I guess my confusion at her statement is shown on my face as Gillian continues, “Still time to get rid of it. I certainly don’t want your little bastard associated with my family’s name. Just tell me your price and then I’ll leave you to get on with disposing of this little, shall we say, inconvenience.”
The malevolence in Gillian’s words shocks me. This is her grandchild after all. My hands unconsciously go to my belly, a gesture of protection against this awful woman, as I summon the courage to speak my mind. But before I have a chance to open my mouth, my mother steps forward from behind a customer, a look of fury across her normally serene features.
“How dare you talk to my daughter in this way!”
Gillian whips her head to see my mother stalking towards her and visibly pales. I can see the recognition spark in her eyes as she realises who my mother is. Given that status and wealth seem to drive Gillian, I am guessing she has always written me off as some kind of nobody. I can see the cogs turning in her head that if a famous model is my mother, then I must have wealth and status too, but it is too late to backpedal as her nasty words are already in the open and there is no way of taking them back.
My mother stops in front of Gillian, towering over her at five foot ten and making her appear small and weak. “My daughter will do no such thing. You have no right to step foot in here and talk to her like this. So I suggest you leave before I make a call to Taylor myself and tell him how his mother has tried to bribe Abby to kill his unborn child.”
I didn’t think that Gillian could have gone any paler, but she is now as white as a sheet and I can detect a faint tremble in her hands. I am so grateful to my mother for sticking up for me, but I know I also need to take charge of the situation. Gone is my politeness as I speak up, my voice cold and steely. “Gillian, I suggest you leave. I have never done anything to make you dislike me, yet you have gone out of your way to try and destroy me. I can certainly see where Richard gets his delightful personality. Thank heavens Taylor is nothing like either of you! You will never have any say in my baby’s future, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you stay out of our lives for good.”
I finish my diatribe and stare at Gillian, daring her to say anything in return. Instead, she turns on her heels and, nose in the air, stalks out through the door. The deathly silence that had descended over the shop is broken as the customers quickly start chatting to cover the awkwardness of the situation. I smile apologetically at everyone and softly excuse myself as the adrenaline that had been fuelling my self-confidence slowly subsides.
A few moments pass as I try to gather my thoughts, the darkened alley offering me some solace. “What a bitch!” My mother’s exclamation startles me; I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear her follow me out. I let out a hollow laugh as she wraps me in her embrace but relax into her arms as she offers warm words in my ear. “I am so proud of you for standing up to her, darling.” These last words finally bring the comfort I so badly need, and I find myself smiling weakly back up at her.
“And thank you for standing up for me too,” I respond, giving my mum a quick squeeze in return. “Do you want to come up to the flat for a cup of tea? I know that I could do with one.”
“Definitely. Plus I have some good news for you, sweetheart.”
“Good news? I could do with some after that.”
We make our way into the kitchen, and I busy myself with getting the kettle on and pulling out some cups. When I glance over at my mother, I can see she can barely contain herself, so I give her a wide smile and tell her to spill the beans.
“We sold the house.”
“What? How? I mean, I didn’t think you had even put it on the market yet.”
“Well, I called my friend Marie, who is an agent, last night, and she said she had a few people who were waiting for properties to come up in the area. Because she had been to the house before, she worked up some rough details and sent them out first thing. By lunchtime she was already doing viewings, and by four your father and I accepted a cash offer that came in.”
“Wow!” I am speechless as I wait for my mother to continue.
“The only proviso is that we have to complete by the end of the week, so everything is going to be moving pretty fast.”
“That’s amazing, Mum. I never knew things could happen that quickly.”
“I know. But this means you can start working on negotiations for the flat and shop next door.”
I give her a grin and fill her in on my afternoon, my enthusiasm evident as I describe the viewing of the property and my ideas. She asks how much I need to secure the sale, and I tell her the figure, my stomach clenched at the thought of taking so much money from my parents. But she doesn’t even bat an eyelid. I have no idea how much a four-bedroom house in Primrose Hill is worth these days, but obviously it is enough for my parents to help finance my dream.
We chat animatedly, completely losing track of time until my father calls to remind my mother about a dinner they are attending. With a flurry of kisses and a promise to talk tomorrow, she hurries out the door into the cold, wintery evening. It is too late to call Rufus, the agent, so I resolve to contain my excitement until I can talk to him in the morning, and head down into the shop to finalise the orders with Bea and Andreas.
.........................
I wake to a delicious aroma filling my senses. My stomach growls in response, and I scramble to find my phone to see what the time is. Eight o’clock. The craziness of the day has taken its toll, and after my mother left, I put my head down for a short nap. Well, that was three hours ago.
I enter the kitchen to find Taylor frying steaks. My mouth waters as I take in creamed spinach on the stove, pink-peppercorn sauce bubbling gently and the crispy fries baking in the oven. Mmm, I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until this moment. I could eat a horse, or given the menu, a cow.
“Yum, that smells good,” I say to Taylor as I wrap my arms around his
waist and lean my head on his back. Slowly he turns in my embrace and plants a soft kiss on my nose.
“I wondered when you were going to wake up. You were snoring like a train,” Taylor says playfully. I swat his arm in defence and pout.
“I don’t snore!” I protest. Just then I notice a huge bunch of white roses on the side, and I raise my eyebrow questioningly.
“A peace offering,” Taylor offers. As usual, my face is an open book when it comes to Taylor, and my confusion prompts him to continue. “I know my mum came to visit, so this is an apology for whatever inappropriate thing she said or did.” Obviously, Taylor doesn’t know the half of it. Do I dare tell him exactly what she said to me? On the one hand, I can’t stand the women and would love to take her down a peg…or ten, but then, no matter what, she is his mother.
“How did you know she had been here?” I ask softly, trying to gauge the situation.
“She rang me in a flap, accusing me of leading her to believe you were some penniless girl of an uncertain background and here you are the daughter of famous models and probably a trust-fund baby. Apparently, she approves of our relationship now, even though you did get my brother arrested. She seems sure there is still a mistake there, of course.” Taylor’s tone is flat and harsh, and I can see the anger rippling beneath the apparent calm.
At the suggestion that she now approves of me, anger pulses through my veins, and before I have a chance to think properly, I blurt out, “Oh, so she doesn’t want to pay me to get rid of our baby now?” My voice drips with sarcasm.
Taylor visibly pales before he whispers, “What do you mean?”
“I…I’m sorry, Taylor. I wasn’t going to say anything. I know she is not the best, but she is still your mother and I don’t want to get between the two of you…” I trail off.
“What did she say? Tell me!” demands Taylor harshly.
“Um, she came into the shop earlier and, in front of everyone, asked how much I wanted to take care of our little ‘inconvenience’. Her words, not mine.” I watch as the fury takes hold of Taylor until it seems to seep out of every pore. In the moment I feel strangely pleased to see him so angry, like he is on my side. Of course, I know that he would always step up to his responsibilities, but a part of me has always wondered what might have been if I hadn’t gotten pregnant. Would he have come back to me?
Silence fills the kitchen, and Taylors takes a moment to draw back on a calm mask. “Why don’t you set the table whilst I get this plated up?” Taylor says. I take that as a request to give him a few minutes to himself, so I nod and head through to the living room, where we have a small table in the corner.
A couple minutes later, Taylors carries through two steaming plates of deliciousness. His body is still rigid with tension, but there is a softness in his eyes when he looks at me, so I know that, at least, he is not angry at me. We make small talk for a few minutes whilst we eat until I remember my fantastic news from earlier.
As I fill Taylor in on my mother’s visit and my viewing earlier that afternoon, the atmosphere in the room lightens and I can sense Taylor’s excitement at the news. “That’s brilliant, Abby! It all seems to be coming together.”
“I know. It seems a little too easy, though.” My subconscious worry that all this seems a little too good to be true seems to be surfacing, bringing with it doubts about my ability to cope with it all.
“Nope, it is all about timing. This is just meant to be.” Taylor offers a reassuring smile, which I return, doing my best to banish the darkness that seems to be seeping back into my thoughts.
“Well, I am going to call the agent tomorrow and put in an offer first thing and see how things progress. I have no idea how long it would take for everything to go through. And then, of course, I need to speak to the Council about permits and stuff. And I guess I need to get this partnership with my parents made official…” I trail off as the amount of work seems far too daunting to contemplate right now.
“Baby steps, Abby. Just take them one step at a time,” Taylor says soothingly. “And get people to help. A lawyer can do a lot of that for you. Why don’t you get in contact with the guy that your Nonna dealt with? He is local and can probably help with a lot of your issues.” Taylor’s suggestion instantly makes sense, and I make a mental note to give Mr Thompson a call tomorrow.
“Thanks, Taylor,” I say with a soft smile on my face. Just then I remember the note on my pillow this morning, and despite not wanting to upset Taylor again, I need to know what is going on. “Taylor,” I say hesitantly, getting his attention, “you left me that note this morning…”
Taylor’s face darkens and I can see the internal debate raging. He sighs softly. “Abby, I think maybe we should just leave this for the moment.”
“No, Taylor. I need to know. No secrets, remember? No protecting Abby because you think she can’t handle it.” My tone is firm and Taylor sees I mean business.
“Okay, okay. When I told Nicola that you had morning sickness, it never occurred to me to tell her that it was a secret. So on Sunday everyone was at Grandmother’s house for lunch, and she accidently let it slip that you were pregnant. My mother of course made a huge scene, and eventually Grandmother had to ask her to leave. It was quite the showdown, especially as she insisted Nicola stay the night.”
I stay quiet and let Taylor continue without interruption, despite the questions bubbling up inside of me.
“That’s where I went after Nicola called. Fortunately, Richard wasn’t there, but I am sure it is only a matter of time before someone tells him. In the meanwhile, Grandmother is keeping an eye on Nicola as who knows where my mother’s head is at, although I guess we have a bit more of an idea after today.” Taylor laughs hollowly, and my heart breaks for him, knowing how difficult it can be when you don’t get on with your parents.
Taylor’s expression softens before he continues, “Grandmother, on the other hand, is delighted. I know she will probably pop by in the next couple of days to talk to you herself.” I smile at the thought. Even though I have only met Genevieve twice, she and I clicked instantly, and her approval means so much to me. Without Nonna, it feels so nice to have someone else championing my cause.
When dinner is finally over, I take myself off for a bath; the tension I have been carrying has made my whole body ache. I shut the bathroom door quietly before filling up the tub. This is the first time I have had a bath since the ‘incident’, preferring instead to shower. Once the bath is filled to the brim, I lean back and start daydreaming about how I am going to decorate the new café, and start running through potential names.
Without warning, images start filling my head. Bloody towels. A body being wheeled into an ambulance. The knife I used to cut my wrists slicing into my skin. I don’t even realise that I am screaming until Taylor has hauled me bodily out of the bath and is wrapping a towel around my shuddering frame. “Shh…shh, Abby. It’s okay.” Taylor pulls me into his lap on the floor and rocks me gently as he waits for me to calm. The screaming eventually subsides and instead turns to hiccupping sobs. All the while Taylor is whispering that he is here for me. With these final words, I fall unconscious, safe in Taylor’s arms.
The Seventh
I wake disorientated. The room is dark, and I am hot, far too hot. It takes me a second to realise that I am trapped under Taylor’s dead weight, and I find myself wriggling in his arms to gain a little space. I sense a change in Taylor as his breathing lightens, and when I roll over to face him, I find myself staring into his serious brown eyes.
“Hey,” he whispers. “You okay? What happened?”
My body trembles at the memories. “I was just lying there daydreaming, and then all of a sudden all those images from the blog started running through my head, and then I was back there in the moment, watching myself cut my wrists.” Tears are sliding down my face, and Taylor brings up his thumb to wipe them softly away.
“What can I do to help?” I can hear the hitch in his voice as if he is as affected
by this as much as I am.
“Make me forget. I close my eyes and it is all I see. I wish I could make it go away.” I hate the weakness in my voice. Every time I think I am getting a handle on things, it seems that there is something around the corner to thwart my efforts.
“I will give you anything you ask. Close your eyes.”
I stare deeply into Taylor’s eyes for a moment, unsure and not wanting to see the images that wait for me. A small nod of his head reassures me, and I acquiesce. The moment I am back in the darkness, the images start to return, but before they can start to take hold, I am distracted by Taylor’s touch.
Slow, long strokes work their way across my body. Lips gently kiss and suckle, starting with my neck and ear and working downwards, paying attention first to my incredibly sensitive nipples and then to my navel. Each touch takes me further away from the darkness of my soul, and instead, images of Taylor run through my head.
I feel Taylor placing soft kisses at the apex of my thighs, slowly working his way down until he is gently suckling on my clit. Sparks of electricity start to shoot through my core, until I am writhing under Taylor’s touch. “Lie still,” Taylor orders, his voice firm but gentle. I do my best to comply, but it seems as if my limbs have a life of their own. My orgasm rockets through me, leaving me breathless, but before I have a chance to regroup, I feel Taylor shift his weight and then he is nudging his cock at my entrance. I rock my hips forward, eager to accept him, but instead he slides his cock through my wet folds across my incredibly sensitive clit. It takes only a couple of strokes and I am falling apart once again.
I open my eyes, but immediately Taylor tells me to close them. I snap them shut, enjoying my sightlessness that seems to make the sensations even more intense. Very slowly Taylor slides into my wetness until he has filled me to the hilt. Slowly Taylor starts to rock his hips gently, a measured rhythm that stokes a fire deep in my core. I reach up to feel Taylor, but immediately he grabs my wrists and pins them gently above my head.
Book Two: Thirty Days, Book 2 Page 5
