Getting a Life (New City Series Book 1)

by Simpson, Stefanie

  “Don’t you even think about it.”

  “Think about what?” she grinned and bit her lip, she pulled on the trigger, and hit his chest with a short blast of water.

  There was a sharp intake of breath. He looked murderous, but there was a hint of a smile. She was laughing, slowly backing away from him.

  “Now, now, you deserved it.”

  “Deserved it? Right.”

  He lunged for her and she squealed then dodged. He chased her round the lawn as she screamed, hose pipe flaying about in her wake. He caught her round the waist, and spun her round, she reached her arm out trying to keep hold of the hose. He took it when he tickled her side. She bounced up and down in his grip. She felt so good there.

  He let off the trigger catching her with cold water as he let her go.

  She fought against him, laughing as she did, managing to turn the trigger in his hands, spraying him as well. They were both soaked. Water dripped off their faces, their clothes were plastered to them, and they were watching each other, panting hard. She was still laughing, but he looked serious.

  The tension between them was electric, she couldn’t be near him without needing to touch him. It was as though they were pulled to each other.

  He was going to kiss her, she could feel it. “We shouldn’t.”

  “I know.” Her eye fell down over him, she could see the outline of his body under the wet t-shirt. He grinned at her look and set off the water again, she caught her breath as he did. “Then don’t look at me like that.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  He shook his head, and kissed her cheek as he passed her, winding up the hose as he went.

  They went in after shaking off the worst of the water.

  “I’ll get some towels.”

  “What on earth have you been up to?” Alice looked between them.

  “Water fight.”

  “Good grief Arthur, how old are you?” Alice smiled. When Rebecca returned with two fluffy towels, she stopped short as Arthur took off his t-shirt. There was a light amount of hair across his chest, and a small trail down under his belly button. He was defined and muscular, but not overly so. He looked gorgeous. She wiped her face and held out the other towel, and he rubbed his hair, oh God, she couldn’t look at him.

  She vanished. He knew what he was doing the bugger.

  More appropriately attired, she started dinner. She was scraping the new potatoes at the sink when Arthur came back in, he wore a different t-shirt and shorts.

  “You look so different when you don’t wear a suit.”

  “Do I? Good or bad?”

  “More relaxed, so I suppose that’s good.”

  She was more relaxed, still nervous of him, but in a good way. She felt herself softening, but still she didn’t want an affair with her boss. It felt so seedy. He left her as she cooked.

  She fell asleep in the comfy chair that was now hers right after dinner. Arthur could have watched her for hours.

  His mother kept looking at him.

  He sighed at her look and said goodnight, it was going to be harder than he thought to keep his distance.

  Thursday was thundery. Rebecca watched the rain patter down as she looked out her window. She stretched as she yawned. Her phone went and she frowned. It buzzed on the bedside table and as she picked it up, her blood ran cold.

  She answered.

  DI Edwards’ voice was one she never wanted to hear again.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d thought you’d want to hear this from me, not the court liaison officer.”

  “Okay.” Her voice was flat, her body tensed, bracing for impact.

  “Mark Crest is out.”

  “I’d almost forgotten.”

  “Well, with what happened in February, I thought you would need to know. Now remember, Danny didn’t know your address, only your place of work. There is an injunction banning Mark from leaving town, and being within a hundred meters of you, or your home.”

  “I suppose if he disappears someone will let me know. I mean, it’ll be a matter of time.”

  “Let’s hope he learned some sense.”

  “I won’t hold my breath.”

  “I’ve spoken with the sergeant that dealt with your case in Feb. They’re aware of the risk to you. Someone might be in touch. Okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you for calling me. I’m glad you told me.”

  “You’ve been through a lot, and I know you’ve been through the mill. You deserve someone on your side. How are things?”

  “Good. I’m somewhere good. Good people.”

  “That’s great, and remember, you can ring me if you need to.”

  “Thanks.”

  She sighed and looked back to the rain outside. She felt disconcerted, the ease of her mind evaporated and she was lost again. She thought of Arthur. She wanted to be normal, she wanted something with him, she looked at her phone with the urge to call him, to hear his voice and tell him what was wrong.

  He’d want her to, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t open up to him. She was demeaned and lowered, and nothing. She had to remember that. With him, there were glimpses of what could be, but her past would always haunt her, those closest to her would always be at risk.

  She loved Alice, and Arthur. That realisation was scary. She couldn’t stay, not with Mark on the loose. She hadn’t really thought how she would deal with it when he did get out. Now she had to.

  If she could get over her fears, she might be able to deal with Mark better. Her fear of sex was not winning any wars for her.

  She should go and do it. It made her feel a little sick. If it were with Arthur on the other hand, now that would be perfect. Yet using him to get over herself was not a good idea, if she couldn’t do it, if she ended up hating him for it, if it was mistake, she couldn’t bear it. She should go out, get pissed, and take then someone to bed.

  She could do it. She needed to.

  She said nothing to Alice yet, she needed a little time to figure it out, how to leave. She wouldn’t disappear again, but she couldn’t stay.

  Maybe she should take her chance with Arthur and be done with it, she might not have another opportunity.

  She was a little quiet that day, but made an effort, suddenly all the time with Alice was precious.

  On Friday morning, the weather was nicer, and they went for their daily walk.

  “You’re quiet.”

  “I think, and don’t take offence, but I need a night out, to let off some steam.”

  “Oh, my dear, you are cooped up all day with me, I forget you’re young.”

  “I’m not cooped up…but sometimes I think I’ll look back and see myself as too timid and afraid. I need to push myself.”

  “Considering everything you’ve been through…”

  “That’s exactly why I need to do it.”

  “What do you have planned?”

  “Well, I’d thought I’d go dancing.”

  “On your own?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Arthur won’t like it.”

  “I work for Arthur, I'm not an indentured servant.”

  “I never said that.”

  She sighed. “I know, it’s just…”

  “You want to do your own thing? You know how he feels about you.”

  “Yeah, something like that. This is about me, something I need. I don’t want to drag him into it.”

  “Maybe he wants to be dragged into it.”

  She looked through her clothes, she decided on a short red dress. It had been ten quid in the sale. It was a bit too short, and a bit tight, but it was the only sexy thing she owned. She bought it on impulse. Foolishly.

  Arthur and Alice were still the kitchen. When she mentioned she was going out, he offered to join her, but she declined. There was a flash of hurt, but he masked it well.

  He finally convinced her to let him drive her into the city centre. She’d decided on the main club street, full of pubs, restaurants, and clubs. It would
be busy on a Friday night.

  Arthur had gone back to work, and he was sat in cuffed sleeves and suit trousers. He did look good in a suit.

  His jaw dropped when he saw her. Her hair was curled prettily, and in a casual up do. His eye followed her figure downward and stopped at the high tan heels. She had picked up a light glow of a tan. She wore red lipstick, and all he wanted to do was kiss her.

  “Ready?” he barely made the sound. Alice gave Rebecca a point look when he stood and turned. Rebecca poked her tongue out.

  “Have a nice time dear.”

  “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

  “Yes, I’m much better now dear.”

  Arthur was in his little flash car. He started it, but didn’t move.

  “What are you doing?” he didn’t look at her when he asked.

  “Getting over myself.”

  He shook his head. He drove slowly, almost unwillingly. He pulled up to a loading space at the end of Town Hill. When people went out, they went up Town Hill, it ran the length of the top of a hill where the market used to be, and the old part of the city gradually sloped down, blending into the new on the plane at the bottom.

  Going up Town Hill was the thing to do. At the far end was a large building, an old cinema that was now an event venue, a few strip clubs, even one for women. It was full of Hen and Stag dos, birthdays, and large crowds. It was only nine, and most places hadn’t gotten started yet, but it was already busy.

  “Listen. I don’t understand this, but whatever you need, I can help you, I want to be there for you. If anything happens, if you’re afraid, lost, stuck, lonely, unhappy, or just want my company, call me. Promise me.”

  She smiled. “I promise.”

  He didn’t want her to go, at least not without him.

  He nearly got out and followed her. “Rebecca!” She turned and leant through the window as he lowered it. He leant forward, close to her. “I wish this could be different. I feel like we’ve met at the wrong time.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Tell me it’s hard not being with me.” He gave her a little smirk, but it was sad.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more.” With that, she left him, he watched the unconscious sway of her body as she disappeared into the crowd. He text her a few minutes later. He told her he’d be in the pub, not far away, not for any purpose, but so that she knew that he was there if she needed him.

  She smiled at the message.

  The first club would do. She didn’t queue, it wasn’t late enough, and she managed to beat a little crowd that looked like they were heading that way.

  The beat was good, the drinks too pricy, but doubles were the price of a single before eleven. She necked two vodkas, and looked to the dancefloor.

  She remembered dancing with Arthur, he felt good next to her. The thought of anyone else dancing with her like that made her itch.

  She threw herself into the melee, not caring she was alone. She danced and moved, someone sidled up, and a few minutes later, they sidled away. She had two more drinks.

  She made a circuit, looking at the men. None of them appealed, none of them were him.

  She sighed, and had one more drink. She danced again, two men joined her, flirting a little, mostly just dancing. One wasn’t tall, but was toned and lithe, with dark skin and short dreads. His friend, who appeared to be holding back a little, was taller, handsome with short hair, he had the most beautiful teeth. She considered the shorter man, he had a nice face, kissable lips.

  “Are you here alone?” he shouted into her ear. He smelt so good. A bit like Arthur. She really couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know many people here, and I’m trying to get over someone.” Saying someone was better than saying something. She was pretty drunk, more than she had been in a very long time.

  “He got a name?” he gave her a pert look.

  She looked impossibly sad as she thought of Arthur’s face. She couldn’t do it. She wanted to go home, she wanted Arthur.

  “You okay?” she shook her head, and apologised. She staggered a little as she went to the ladies. She leant against the wall, and caught her breath.

  She pulled out her phone and dialled.

  Arthur shouted down the line, but she could barely hear him. She hung up, and she received a text. She replied with where she was, and the words ‘I need you’ she couldn’t do it anymore, she couldn’t be without him. There was a feeling of the inevitable. Now was as good a time as any. He wasn’t cruel or demanding, he’d be kind, and loving. She went to the loo, and ran cold water under her wrists. She went back out, and saw him scanning the room.

  She didn’t want this moment to be her crying into his chest, needing pity from him, this was about sex. She smiled as his eyes locked with hers. It was like he was hypnotised.

  She pulled him by the shirt and he followed her onto the dancefloor, she danced round him, but he barely moved. Her hands went to his chest and he closed his eyes.

  He couldn’t take much more, he needed her, completely. His want of her was consuming, and seeing her make the decision to come to him was thrilling.

  She moved her hips in little circles to the beat, he put his hands on her hips and moved with her. Her back was to him, she reached back with her arms, and put them round his neck, she pulled him down to her, and she turned her head to him. He kissed her, soft at first, barely touching.

  He turned her to him, hands in her hair, and kissed her with all the want he felt. She pulled away and looked at him. She nodded. He took her hand and pulled her behind him.

  He’d sat in the pub down the road and thought about her for the past two hours, while he was dying inside. Now she chose him, she’d not done what he feared, but come to him. His heart pounded, the weight of what was happening sat between them, and neither spoke.

  He drove in silence. She tottered behind him into the house when they finally arrived. He deactivated the alarm and put on the lights.

  She didn’t take much of the house in, her vision spun a little. She kicked her shoes off, making a little sound. She wiggled her toes. Arthur stood before her. He undid her hair. It lay messily as it fell. He put his arm around her and picked her up in his arms. He carried her upstairs, her eyes on him.

  She kissed him furiously before he’d even set her down, she tore at his shirt, the need for it to be done with, for it to be over overtook her. He set her back as he unbuttoned his shirt, he pushed the stretchy fabric of her dress down her shoulders, leaning forward and kissing it the skin there.

  He lay them down, his body over hers, his erection pressing in. The room spun faster. She felt sick.

  “Wait.” Her words were slurred, and he paused.

  “Are you all right? Too fast?”

  “I need to sit up.” He knelt back, and she followed, swaying. She steadied herself. He watched her slow blink.

  “Are you drunk?” he frowned.

  “It’s the only way.” He was mortified. The blood drained from his face and his hard on faded. She stumbled off the bed, and nearly fell, jostling the bedside table as she did.

  He hadn’t realised, he hadn’t wanted to, he was caught up in the moment and didn’t see how pissed she was.

  He was disgusted with himself, he was doing the one thing he promised he would not. She would hate him for this. How could he take advantage of her? They had been so close to it, a few more minutes and it would have been too late.

  Her dress was pulled down and her bra exposed, her lipstick was smeared. She struggled to right herself, and he swallowed his revulsion, he’d ruined everything.

  He stood, and put her dress right.

  “What’s up? I’m okay.”

  “You’re drunk. We can’t do this, look at the state of you.” She blinked and straightened at his angry tone, and then the words sunk in. The room spun at an angle.

  She felt shamed. She only nodded, and tried to walk with a little dig
nity from the room.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” Her voice was flat.

  He started buttoning his shirt back up.

  “Don’t. You’re not taking me.” She didn’t look at him, she couldn’t.

  “You can’t walk.” He saw her retreating.

  She slipped on her shoes. “It’s fine.” She picked up her little disco purse with her money, key, lippy, and phone in up off the floor, and went out.

  “Please, don’t go like this.” He caught her arm. She recoiled and he let her go.

  She stumbled a little, and swearing, took her shoes off and made down the drive. He followed, she broke into a run to the main road. All the time he was a few paces behind her, unable to let her go.

  He caught her again, but didn’t let go. “Please, let me at least take you home.”

  “No.” She reeled. “Please leave me be, oh God please.” Her voice was desperate, and he managed to step away. She turned, and not looking at him once, she fled.

  She made it to a busy road, two taxis didn’t stop, the third did. She clambered in, the driver looked twice at her.

  “All right love?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t know her own voice. She didn’t cry, but sat in shock. She wondered what she had done wrong, she thought he wanted her, wasn’t that what he wanted? To be with her.

  She didn’t understand. When she saw herself in the mirror of her bathroom when she washed her face, she understood, she was disgusting. Drunk, dishevelled, she rubbed hard against her lips removing what remained of her lipstick. She was no better than her mother.

  She’d thrown herself at him like a drunken lush. She took a deep breath. How did she get everything so wrong all the time?

  The night kept replaying from start to finish all night, the room tilted and spun, until exhausted she fell asleep.

  “Are you unwell?” Rebecca looked up. She was pale, and her large sunglasses covered her face, but there was an odd look about her, it made Alice worry.

  She’d stayed in her slouchy short pyjamas all of Saturday, and Alice thought it was just a hangover, but she was no better Monday.

  “Just a little tired.” The more she thought about what happened, the more she thought about Mark. She had really tried, but she was starting to realise she was aiming too high, far too high.