For Taylor, though, I think it really hit home the first time he felt her kick at the wedding. I guess for guys it must be weird watching their partner expand with this little life inside of them but until he experienced the feeling of her moving first-hand, I think it was all a bit abstract to him. Like he knew she was in there but he didn’t really ‘know’. But the moment her foot connected with his hand, he lit up like a star on top of the Christmas tree and since then he can’t help but cop a feel of my belly every time he comes near me.
I feel a smile stretching across my face as Bean starts to jiggle inside of me as if she knows that I am thinking about her. “Do you want to feel?” I ask Nicola, gesturing to my belly.
An excited grin lights up her face. “Really? Can I?”
“Of course,” I respond, gently grabbing her wrist and guiding her hand to my belly. The expression on her face is indescribable, a combination of excitement, awe and something else, as she feels Bean respond to her voice.
“Wow!” It barely comes out above a whisper.
“Cool, huh?” I say as she removes her hand.
“That’s amazing, Abs! I still can’t quite get over the fact that you have a living, breathing human being inside of you…” Nicola trails off looking slightly embarrassed.
“I know what you mean. It is a little weird…kind of like having an alien inside of you, but hopefully a better ending than all those sci-fi movies,” I joke.
A customer walks in and Nicola quickly hurries off to serve him. From my corner, I munch slowly on my panini, watching as the lunchtime crowd swells and then dissipates like the tide over the course of a couple of hours. Nicola is efficient and courteous to the customers and seems to get on well with all the staff which makes me happy. I had no doubt in my mind that she would be a good fit, but I didn’t want the other members of staff feeling like I was playing favourites because she is my sister-in-law.
My thoughts are interrupted when suddenly there is a loud thud from above my head. Startled, I look up and see several customers looking around confused. I had thought that most of the heavy work in the flat upstairs had been completed so I am slightly worried about what could have made that noise. Bea catches my eye as she sees my expression and wanders over.
“They are delivering the sofa today,” she says in explanation.
“Bloody hell, Bea. I didn’t think it was big enough to make that kind of noise,” I say, making Bea chuckle at my startled expression.
“I guess one of the guys must have dropped it. Do you want me to pop up and check everything is okay?” Bea asks me kindly.
“Would you mind?” I ask softly and she nods, understanding my reticence about venturing upstairs before the place is finished.
Mum has promised me that the place will be unrecognisable when I see it. Like a shiny penny, everything will be brand new, including the entrance, layout and furnishings so that I can pretend like nothing ever happened up there. My new bedroom will also be above Cake, rather than Bread, so in essence it will be like being in a brand new flat. I can’t help but be grateful for all my mum and dad’s hard work in trying to erase this nightmare from my life, but I have a sneaking suspicion that no matter what anyone does, no matter how much we try to disguise it, the pink elephant will remain in the room as long as Richard is out there.
I let out a breath and try to distract myself from falling into the dark hole of negativity that always seems to follow thoughts of Taylor’s crazy twin brother. I couldn’t even begin to define him; psycho, sociopath or just plain nuts, I am not sure we will ever have any answer to why he is the way he is. All I know is that his deep-rooted, twisted belief that he should be the only person in Taylor’s life means that none of us, including Bean, are safe until he is locked up behind bars, or dead. I know it is truly awful of me to think it, but six feet under is the only way that I am ever going to feel truly free of this bubble of terror I currently find myself living in.
My phone rings, startling me out of my reverie and I make a grab for it when I see it is one of our suppliers. I quickly get lost in my work and it is not until late afternoon that I surface for a break. Nicola has just brought me a latte —blasted decaf because I am not supposed to be having too much caffeine these days— when Taylor comes striding through the door with a grin on his face.
“Hey,” I say as he bends down to give me a soft kiss on the cheek, “What are you doing here?”
“This,” Taylor exclaims holding up a copy of today’s Metro newspaper, the free paper that gets distributed all over London every morning.
“Okay?” I ask curiously wondering what on earth any of this has to do with me.
“I couldn’t wait to show you this, Abs. You guys made it!” Taylor exclaims loudly getting a few inquiring stares. Most of the regulars know who he is and are obviously wondering what is going on. Taylor rifles noisily through the pages before finding the one he is looking for. “Here.”
I stare at the article which seems to about Brighton as a great day out, but the page is dominated by a picture of Bread & Cake and in a boxed section is a glowing five-star review of the shop. I actually start to feel a little faint at the sight of the words which rave on about our artisan breads, the cakes and even the art on the walls of the café. “Wow,” I whisper. “This is amazing. To get a write-up like this…I mean…” I am speechless. An article like this is worth its weight in gold. We are already doing so well just from word-of-mouth and the local press, but this is out of this world.
“Right, we are celebrating tonight, all of us!” Taylor says excitedly and I find myself grinning as the energy radiating out of him seems to be infectious. “I am going to go show this to the rest of the gang and tell them that their presence is required this evening.” I sit there in shock as Taylor wanders off.
.........................
Champagne corks are being popped and glasses poured as everyone talks excitedly about the newspaper article. Taylor called in a few favours and tonight’s evening is being catered by one of Brighton’s top Michelin-starred restaurants. Everyone has had a busy day so instead of going out, once all the customers had left, we cleared up and had the spread brought in.
I watch as everyone sits around the tables chatting, sipping champagne and eating the mini beef wellingtons, burger sliders, mini fish and chips and all the other delicious food that is spread out across the tables. Mum wanders over with a broad smile and clinks her glass of fizz against my tall glass of ginger beer. “Abby, this is fabulous, darling.”
“I know, right?” I respond. “I think I need to send the journalist a great big box of goodies for that write-up.”
“Definitely,” Mum responds. “Always good to keep the press sweet.” I let out a laugh at her words, not sure if she had intended on the double meaning, but as soon as she realises what she has just said she joins in with a good-natured giggle.
The rest of the evening slips by in a haze of banter. It is only when someone exclaims loudly that it is midnight and some people will need to be back to work in five hours that the impromptu party breaks up. My feet are killing me and I am so glad that at least tonight I get Taylor to drive me rather than having to catch the train back to London.
Once we have said our final goodbyes, I climb into Taylor’s car and settle back into my seat as the engine roars to life. I can’t help myself as my eyes begin to close, the soft leather warming beneath me as the vibrations from the engine seep into my body. A hand reaches behind my neck and I feel Taylor rubbing the kinks gently as I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
The Third
My life appears to be all about journeys at the moment; if I am not in a car, a bus or a train at some point in the day, my life feels too static. But I guess there is also the metaphorical journey I seem to be on at the moment; trying to move forward from everything that has happened feels like wading through treacle. This morning I have woken up furious. My dreams were dominated by Hannah and Richard and the feelings of hopelessness tha
t they have elicited have made me feel out of control and that in turn has made me angry. You would have thought that after such a fantastic day yesterday I would have woken up feeling great, but in the end the opposite is true.
I close my eyes and plug in my MP3 player, losing myself in Limp Bizkit’s Break Stuff, the perfect accompaniment to my foul mood. As he shouts out about wanting to rip someone’s head off I have a clear picture in my mind of who I would like that to be. All I can say is that people don’t want to mess with me today.
By the time I have walked through the door of Bread & Cake, my mood is only marginally better. But my mum always says you’ve got to fake it to make it, so I plaster on my cheeriest smile and sing out my usual greetings as I make my way through to the table I keep reserved as my mini-office. I catch Ben’s eye, one of the guys on today’s security detail and see his slight grin as his takes in my personality transformation. I swear these guys probably know me better than I know myself since they watch every move I make from dawn ‘til dusk. At first it drove me bonkers having them follow me everywhere but now I barely notice them anymore. I guess from their point of view at least one of them gets to sit in the warmth of the café each day rather than having to hover outside. I am willing to bet half our regular customers have a file on them in Henry’s command centre.
I must have one of those looks on my face today, so despite doing my best to conceal the irritation I am feeling about every little thing, for the most part, everyone leaves me alone. I am not normally so sullen, but I think today is just going to be one of those days.
I am startled when I hear a loud bang at the front of the shop. Ben is immediately on his feet striding with purpose through to Bread, his frame tense and his hands clenched into fists. Heads are turning as a loud voice cuts across the general noise and I quickly get to my feet to see what is going on. Ben is not supposed make his presence known unless I am in immediate danger but when I get into that section of the shop I see exactly why he has reacted the way he has.
Nicola is standing cowering against one of the bread racks as Richard stands over her screaming obscenities. Her eyes are screwed up tight and every muscle is taut as if she is waiting for him to hit her. I can see a couple of the regulars attempting to get Richard to back off, but it's making absolutely no difference. I push through the crowd, determined to get him away from her.
“Back the fuck off, Richard,” I say loud enough for him to hear me. I see him stiffen slightly so I know he has heard my words, but he ignores me and continues to growl at Nicola though his voice is too low for me to make out what he is saying. “I said, get the fuck away from her!” I repeat my warning louder this time. My fists are bunched at my sides, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making me feel like a badass ready to take on the world.
Richard spins around and pins me with his gaze. “This is nothing to do with you, bitch!” he hisses.
“Like hell it is. This is my shop. I will not allow you to come in here and harass my staff,” I respond with malice in my voice. I refuse to be cowed no matter how scary Richard comes across, not when Nicola is at risk.
“I will do what I like. That’s my sister,” Richard shouts pointing at a visibly shaken Nicola.
“I don’t give a crap. You get out of here and never come back. I have the police on speed dial and if you so much as walk past the shop again I will get them here so fast your head will spin.” I am breathing heavily, my heart pounding as the adrenaline continues to flood my system. Goddammit, I am so ready for a fight today.
“You won’t do anything, you silly little girl. You are weak! Weak just like all the fucking sheep in here. Weak like my darling baby sister here.” Richard’s voice drips with venom as he continues, “My dear little sister who will do exactly what I tell her because she knows the consequences if she doesn’t.” His tone holds such menace that I don’t doubt his words for a second. But that doesn’t mean I should stand here and let him get away with it.
I glance at Nicola and see that she is trembling violently and do the only thing I can think of; I insert myself between her and Richard forcing him to take several steps backwards. I am confident that he won’t hit me here, there are far too many witnesses and I can even see a few of the regulars moving in to come to our aid.
“You are a bully, Richard. Pure and simple. And I don’t tolerate bullies. So you will walk out of here now or I and some of my friends will help you out.” I sweep my hand around behind me, even more grateful when I see Andreas poking his head around the kitchen door with a dark scowl on his face.
I watch as I literally see the cogs turning in Richard’s mind as he makes his decision. The vein in his temple is pulsing and I can see the red creeping up his collar. It still astounds me that this man who is identical to Taylor in looks can be so different in personality. I know Taylor has his own darkness inside, but Richard is like a black hole that sucks the life out of everything good. As I look closer at Richard, I see that he has a few days’ worth of stubble growth and his clothes appear rumpled as if he has been sleeping in them. Curious, I think, but I can’t let myself be distracted from the present situation.
“You have thirty seconds, Richard, before I call the police,” I warn, grabbing out my phone and waving it in his face. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ben edging closer and closer, making his way around the room in a wide arc so as not to alert Richard to his presence. I hold Richard’s intense stare, determined that he will not see an ounce of weakness. Bullies like him prey on those who can’t defend themselves and I am resolute that I won’t be one of them; I just have too much at stake these days.
“Fine,” Richard growls as he takes a step back, his Adam’s apple bobbing several times in his throat. This is a man who is not used to being challenged and suddenly he is being faced with a room full of people who will protect me and Nicola no matter what. I feel a triumphant smile stretching across my face. The rational side of me is telling me not to poke the bear, but another part of me is just feeling bloody ecstatic about having Richard on the wrong foot for once. It is clear he came in here expecting to intimidate Nicola into something, but he hasn’t got what he wanted for a change, no matter how vile he has behaved.
“Ten seconds,” I remind Richard as he stares around the room wildly. Hostile looks come from every corner and that seems to make his mind up. “This isn’t over,” he states flatly, but some of his usual bravado and menace is missing. Richard quickly turns on his heels and stalks out of the shop leaving the room so silent you could hear a pin drop.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I mutter, glancing over at Ben, who is speaking urgently into his phone. I know I am going to have Taylor blasting up my phone in less than a minute but right now my priority is Nicola, who is standing frozen to the spot, her face deathly pale. I turn and envelop her in my arms, gradually feeling her body loosen as the tears start to flow.
Slowly the noise picks up again; all those people who were ready to come to our aid politely returning to their seats to give us some privacy. You have got to love the British; ready to rise to the occasion and then happy to politely pretend like it never happened. Moments later I feel a large arm come around the both of us and guide us into the reassuring warmth of the kitchen which is now empty, apart from Andreas’ hulking frame. A moment later Bea bustles in and hands us each a mug of sweet tea which she urges us to drink in that motherly tone of hers that she reserves for the people she loves.
Nicola and I sip our tea in silence as the reality of the situation sinks in. What could be so important that Richard would risk walking into Bread & Cake to scare the crap out of his baby sister? He must realise by now how much surveillance is around the place; seriously I am pretty sure Fort Knox doesn’t even have this much security.
My phone starts to ring and sure enough it is Taylor. I know if I don’t answer it he will freak so I hit the accept button and let him know that we are all okay. After several minutes of reassuring him that we are all safe and
that he doesn’t need to drive down, something I know he will probably ignore because he is stubborn like that, I hand the phone across to Nicola who at least has gained some colour back in her face.
“He wanted the access codes to Mum and Dad’s,” Nicola says quietly, piquing my interest. I didn’t realise that Richard no longer had access to their parent’s house. “No, I didn’t give them to him, Tay,” Nicola responds to the obvious question and I find myself letting out a small sigh of relief. Finally, we have had a minor victory over Richard.
Nicola chats quietly to Taylor for a couple more minutes before handing the phone back to me. The poor girl looks exhausted, physically and emotionally, and I can’t help but want to protect this sweet girl who had the misfortune to be born into the craziest family ever.
“I guess the last place you want to go is home, Stix?” I ask and it comes as no surprise when she nods her head in response. “Fine,” I say already searching through my contacts for my mum’s number. “I am calling my mum,” I explain when Nicola looks at me questioningly. “You need to get out of here and be looked after…” I trail off as my mum answers with a cheerful hello. I quickly explain the situation and she assures me that she will be here in twenty minutes so I hang up knowing that, for now at least, Nicola will be in safe hands.
“I don’t need babysitting,” Nicola mutters a little petulantly under her breath and I find myself grinning, relieved that some of her spunk has returned.
“I know you don’t need a babysitter, Stix. But you have had a hell of a scare and could do with a distraction from the fruit-and-nut bar that is your brother. And my mum is excellent at providing distractions.”
“But I am supposed to be working,” Nicola responds quietly.
“Well, I am the boss and, given the circumstances, I am giving you the rest of the day off. Okay?” I say, the tone of my voice letting Nicola know that I won’t tolerate any argument.
Book Three: Thirty Days, Book 3 Page 3
