Book Three: Thirty Days, Book 3

by Bibi Paterson

  “Okay,” she whispers. “But your mum…surely she has better things to do than distract me?”

  “You are my family and by extension hers so believe me when I say that she will be more than happy to distract you,” I say with a laugh. My relationship with my mother may have been rocky for many years but with our issues resolved we are now closer than we have ever been, something I thank my lucky stars for every day. Life is far too short to hold onto grievances no matter how large or petty they may seem; if you don’t deal with them then they will fester in your soul until you end up being someone like Richard, fuelled by rage and vitriol and bitterness.

  I concentrate on distracting Nicola, asking questions about her boyfriend, Chris, and chatting about the latest chick flick at the cinema until I hear my mum’s distinctive voice carry through from the shop. “Come on you,” I say to Nicola with a grin, “I am sure my mum has all sorts planned!”

  .........................

  By the time I finally make it into bed I am fit to drop. Not only did my mum spend the afternoon ‘distracting’ Nicola but she insisted dragging me out as well. We piled into her sporty little car, singing along to the radio as we zoomed into London. Everything my mum does in life is at full pelt and her driving style is exactly the same. I might be used to it, but poor Nicola looked a little green by the time we pulled up outside the grand Regency building that houses Harvey Nichols.

  In typical mum-fashion, she whisked us up to the fourth floor and into the salon where she set us up for manicures and pedicures. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, she regaled Nicola with funny stories from her shoots that kept the mood light. By the time the sun began to set, we could no longer avoid going home so Nicola and I caught the tube to the apartment while Mum headed back down to Brighton where she had dinner plans with her best friend, Kiki.

  I was pleased that I had managed to rescue the day and that Stix was in a much better mood, but as we made our way up to the apartment I could sense the change in her as reality began to seep in. A loud voice greeted us as we entered the apartment and I found Taylor pacing the kitchen in agitation as he carried out a heated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the phone. Within moments, it became apparent that Taylor was talking to, or rather arguing with his mother.

  I watched as Stix’s frame became rigid and tension filled the air. I could tell that she was wondering what the outcome of this little conversation would be. Taylor always has his little sister’s back, but I could tell that this time he really was furious.

  “I will drop her back at the house tomorrow, Mother. But if there is even a hint that Richard has been back to harass Stix, my men will have her out of there so fast your head will swim…I don’t care if you are her mother, it is not like she can even rely on you to keep her safe when you invite the monster inside your doors!” I watched as Taylor listened to whatever response his mother screeched at him, his body radiating anger.

  “This conversation is over, Mother,” Taylor said as a final response before ending the call.

  A soft sound escaped Stix alerting Taylor to our presence and he had whirled around with a stricken look on his face. “Sorry Stix, I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” Taylor said softly.

  “It’s okay, Tay,” Stix had murmured walking across to her brother and letting him fold her up into an all-encompassing hug.

  As I lie here listening to Taylor snoring lightly beside me I contemplate my options. Bean has been dancing in my belly for the last hour giving me plenty of opportunity to watch my husband sleeping. He seems relaxed, the lines of worry that seem to be permanently etched across his features these days smoothed by his slumber, but I know that this is all but a short reprieve; a precious few hours when he is able to push his concerns to one side.

  Bean seems to be slowing down her movements. I sometimes yearn for the early days when she was simply a sensation of butterflies fluttering in my stomach rather than the hard kicks she seems to be landing, but I have to remind myself that this is good. It means she is healthy and strong.

  I try to push away all of my own worries knowing that there are only a couple of hours before the sun will begin to rise and my day will start all over again. I am in desperate need of sleep and when at last Bean stills I am grateful when I feel myself beginning to drift off.

  .

  The Fourth

  Dr Grohl sits in his usual seat, his ever-present notebook perched on his lap, a Mont Blanc pen tapping against his upper lip as I describe how I stood up to Richard in the shop yesterday.

  “I know if it had been just me and him things would have probably been different,” I explain. “But knowing that I had a whole roomful of people behind me made me feel like, for once, I had the power. Richard couldn’t intimidate me and, for the first time ever, I got to be the rescuer rather than needing to be rescued.”

  David nods his head but doesn’t speak, indicating that I should continue with a wave of his fingers. “I sometimes feel like I live in this constant state of near panic like he’s the bogeyman and I am always looking over my shoulder wondering when he is going to next jump out at me. And I can’t even escape him when I sleep,” I say with a shrug.

  “Are you still having the nightmares?” David asks, looking concerned.

  “Like clockwork,” I say with a sigh. “If it’s not Richard then it’s Hannah stalking me in my dreams. Rationally, I know that it is just my subconscious trying to work through everything that has happened over the last six months but it just feels like I can’t get a moment’s peace. And now with the trial coming up, I feel like I have this constant knot of anxiety in my stomach. I just know that it can’t be good for Bean for me to be feeling like this all the time.”

  “Are you still taking your tablets?” David asks with a frown as he flicks back through some pages of his notebook until he seems to find what he is looking for.

  “Yeah,” I respond. “I mean, I don’t have that horrible dark and hopeless feeling anymore like I did before I…you know…um, tried to kill myself. I just feel constantly unsettled, like that feeling when you are going up the first incline on a roller-coaster; you know what is coming, but the anticipation just builds and builds until finally you get to that point where you just have to hang on for dear life and hope that you get to the end in one piece.” David nods his head and I can see the compassion in his eyes.

  “Have you been trying those relaxation techniques we discussed before bed?” I can see that David is trying to be helpful but I feel like nothing he is suggesting will have any kind of effect these days.

  “Yeah, but they don’t seem to make much of a difference,” I reply with a sigh as I rub my belly distractedly, wishing once again that there was some kind of magic cure.

  We chat for a bit longer, but I am conscious that I have already overrun my session and that David probably has some other wounded soul waiting for him, so I make my excuses of needing to get back to the shop and leave.

  As I step out the clinic, I breathe in the fresh air. Spring has come early and I can see the bright yellow and cream daffodils bobbing their heads in the light breeze, their cheery colour bringing a smile to my face. It has been unseasonably warm for this time of year making me glad that I only put on a light maternity dress this morning. I turn my face up to the sun, closing my eyes briefly as I let the rays warm my skin. I can hear the birds chirping in the trees and, for the briefest of moments, I am able to let go of all my fears and worries and just enjoy the sounds of nature. For a rare moment, I feel at peace.

  A crunch on the gravel brings me back to reality. I shake my head and slip on sunglasses before walking to my car, silently contemplating playing hooky for the rest of the day. It is not like I have anything urgent to do for the shop, certainly nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow, so I make my mind up that today I will be skiving. But the biggest decision is where shall I go?

  .........................

  There is something fabulous about an impromptu day
out at the seaside. Yeah, I know Brighton has its own seafront, but there is nothing like sinking your feet into gorgeous golden sands rather than pebbles to actually make you feel like you have escaped on holiday. Instinct had driven me when I had climbed behind the wheel of my little beast and somehow I had ended up in Bournemouth, a gorgeous seaside town on the Dorset coastline.

  Nonna and I had often gone there on day trips when I was young enough that a bucket and spade could amuse me all day long. Driving along the seafront I had experienced a swell of nostalgia that had brought back happy memories of ice-creams melting into sand and fish-and-chip suppers before climbing into Nonna’s tiny little car where I would inevitably fall asleep on the drive back to Brighton.

  It was still mid-morning by the time I parked up near the pier. I was under no impression that I was alone, I was certain my security was somewhere reporting back, but I tapped out messages to everyone who needed to know where I was anyway so I knew that they wouldn’t worry. I smiled as I typed out that I was having a mental-health day, if you could call a day trip to the seaside that, chuckling a little over my choice of phrases.

  Grabbing my bag, I ambled slowly towards the sand taking in the sights and sounds around me. Being mid-week and still early on in the season the beach was not particularly busy so it still felt like I had it all to myself. With no particular preference for direction, I headed west towards Boscombe, slipping my pumps off and enjoying the sensation as I plodded through the soft, dry sand.

  An hour later I was standing in front of a row of restaurants and shops. The distance I had walked had not been particularly far but I had taken my time by wandering down to the shoreline and dipping my toes in the frigid water, collecting shells and generally just staring out the sailboats on the horizon.

  Grabbing a table on the edge of the aptly named Urban Reef’s deck I had settled in for the long haul. Over the last couple of hours, I have spent my time munching on gorgeous food, people-watching and eventually immersing myself in an e-book while the sun has shone down on me. Thank heavens though for the large umbrellas otherwise my usually pale skin would be bright pink by now. A shadow falls across me and I glance up expecting the waiter who I had asked to bring over my bill but instead I let out a squeak of surprise at the familiar silhouette.

  “Do you mind if I gate-crash your mental health day?” Taylor asks with a smile.

  “With pleasure,” I respond smiling widely back at my husband.

  Taylor bends to plant a soft kiss on my cheek before pulling out a chair next to me and falling into it with a sigh. I take in the shadows under his eyes and the tight pull of his mouth before asking, “I guess you could probably do with a mental health day yourself, Taylor?”

  “Something like that,” he murmurs as he closes his eyes and basks in the soft sunlight that is slipping through the cracks of the umbrella. We are both silent for several minutes as we listen to the sounds of the gulls squawking above the cliffs and the small but nonetheless powerful waves crashing onto the shore. Finally, Taylor lets out a soft sigh before stretching his arms above his head and moving his neck from side to side as he shakes the tension from his frame. With that, he opens his eyes and at last the haunted look that seems ever-present in his eyes these days appears to have receded a little.

  “Mmm, this was a good idea, Abs. Skiving by the seaside. I like your idea of a day out.” Taylor says with a smile.

  I let out a soft laugh. “The perfect day for a trip to the beach. I didn’t even really know where I was going when I got in the car and then I ended up here.” I say waving my hand at the foreshore. “Nonna used to bring me here when I was growing up. Of course, it was a bit different back then but this place still has the same vibe. When I was walking along the beach, it was almost like I could feel her next to me.”

  Taylor gives me a soft smile before lacing his fingers through mine and bringing them up to his mouth where he kisses my knuckles one by one. “I missed you today, Abs.” His words bring a smile to my face as I see the love shining out of his eyes. I am sometimes amazed at how much a person can say without words. If anyone were to be listening to our conversation they would find it utterly mundane, yet we are so in sync that beneath the actual words are a thousand more being spoken in a language of touches, glances and sighs.

  “This was a lovely surprise, Tay. How did you escape?” I ask.

  “I got Patricia to rearrange a couple of meetings. With all the drama of yesterday, I didn’t want to leave you alone for too long. I know you, Abs. You like to stew…” Taylor trails off with a laugh.

  “To be honest, I kind of deliberately put that all out of my mind today. I just wanted to chill out and forget the rest of the world existed. With the exception of you, of course,” I tease.

  “Of course,” Taylor replies mockingly. “I thought we could stay the cottage tonight if you fancy it?”

  “That would be great. I was kind of dreading getting stuck in the traffic back to London,” I say with a sigh of relief. “Um, wait, I don’t have any clothes at the cottage that will fit,” I add, my smile falling.

  “I packed you a bag,” Taylor responds smugly.

  “Oh, my hero…You do think of everything!” I mock-swoon secretly relieved that our plans haven’t been scuppered by something as silly as lack of wardrobe. Did you want to head back now?” Taylor asks spying the bill that has suddenly appeared at the table without either of us realising.

  “Yeah, that would be nice,” I say contentedly.

  “I’ll get Adam to drive your car over so that you have it for tomorrow morning,” Taylor says as he taps out a quick message on his phone. A moment later he pops some bills down on the table and holds out his hand to help me up.

  “Let’s walk down by the sand,” I suggest to Taylor, who looks down at his suit and then shrugs. He kicks off his shoes and socks and rolls up his trousers before slinging his jacket over his shoulder. He lets out a groan when he sinks his feet into the soft sand. “So good, right?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “So good,” he agrees with a nod of his head. As we amble back towards the car, we chat about everything and nothing, light-hearted topics that fit the occasion. By the time we finally walk through the front door of the cottage, we are both feeling decidedly more relaxed than either of us have felt in months.

  The cottage has a slight musty air as we haven’t been down for some time. Taylor’s housekeeper comes in weekly, but it is not enough to get rid of that somewhat abandoned feeling about it. The first thing I do is head to the back of the cottage and pull back the enormous bi-fold doors until the entire room is exposed to the garden. I sniff the air appreciatively as the scent of freshly mown grass permeates the surrounds. I am just stepping out onto the patio when Taylor calls to me to ask if I fancy a barbeque tonight and when I respond that it sounds great he lets me know that he is popping out to the village store to get some meat and other bits and pieces.

  I briefly contemplate heading out with him but then decide what I really need is a shower. I have just emerged from the cubicle when I notice Taylor sitting on the lid of the toilet watching me. I hadn’t even heard him come in and now feel slightly embarrassed that he had caught me singing very off-key.

  “You could have warned me you were here,” I say to Taylor grumpily.

  “Ah, but then I wouldn’t have been treated to your dulcet tones,” Taylor jokes with a smirk.

  “You are such an arse,” I say, swatting his shoulder with my damp hand. I reach over and grab one of the large fluffy towels hanging on the heated towel rail, draping it around me as I begin to dry off. Taylor hands me a smaller towel which I use to dry my hair, letting out a little laugh when I remove it and my hair is left standing on end like I have been electrocuted.

  Suddenly Taylor is standing behind me, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror as his fingers tug at the edge of the towel which I had folded over to secure it in place. A moment later the towel has dropped to my feet and I can feel Taylor pressing his body into
the back of mine. “Do you remember the last time we were stood here, like this?” Taylor murmurs into my ear.

  I feel myself flushing with desire as I remember how Taylor strummed my clit with his fingers while trying to get me to see myself as he saw me. When he told me that I was beautiful it was like I truly saw myself for the first time; not the awkward, chubby ginger girl that I was used to seeing when I stared at my reflection in the mirror, but a sensual, fiery woman who knew what she wanted.

  I stare at my body, noting the changes and the things that have remained the same. My eyes are still green, yet something else shines out of them now. I am no longer that innocent girl but rather a woman; to say I have grown up over the last seven months is somewhat of an understatement. As my eyes trail downwards I see that my breasts are plump and firm, my pregnancy have made them virtually double in size and, while my belly has become round and full, the skin is still firm and unblemished making me think of a peach.

  I watch in fascination as Taylor’s fingers begin to wander over my soft skin as he brings his lips to my neck. He nips at the sensitive skin behind my ear causing shivers to run down my spine and arousal begins to pool in my belly. My breath catches. “I remember your hands here,” I murmur as I run my fingers over the soft swell of my breasts. I tug on a nipple letting out a gasp and feel Taylor’s cock hardening in his pants behind me.

  “I remember your fingers sliding between the wet lips of my pussy and teasing me until I came on your hand,” I whisper as I slide my hand down, mirroring my words with my actions. Sparks fill my belly as I watch Taylor’s expression morph from lust to blatant arousal. I wrap my other arm around the back of Taylor’s neck trying to steady myself and my hips buck against my own hand as I rub my clit faster and faster.

  My breaths are coming out light and fast as my own arousal ramps up. “Fuck, Abs. You have no idea how hot this is making me right now,” Taylor hisses into my ear. I can feel how tense his frame has become from trying to restrain himself from touching me.