Getting a Life (New City Series Book 1)

by Simpson, Stefanie

  “We’ll do this right.”

  “Only when you’re ready.”

  Victoria watched them as they walked back up the river path. The upstairs deck was open, it was quiet up there, and people lounged about chatting, away from the band.

  Her heart hardened. Weeks of trying to win him back, and she was getting close, and the little nobody upstart undoes it all.

  She turned to see Joe behind her. “They look happy don’t they?”

  “Don’t pretend you’re happy about your little girlfriend slut stealing my man.”

  “Vicky, when did you become such a bitch?”

  She turned back. Joe put his hand on her back. “Look, you need to accept this, and move on. Arthur isn’t the only man. All you’re going to do is make all of you unhappy, and if you loved him, not just wanted to possess him, you’d let him go. You can see she is what he wants. The man looks like he’s dying with you, look at him now. Look.” People turned at the volume of his voice.

  She looked angry and mean.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, don’t. It won’t work in the end. They’ll always find each other.”

  Victoria stormed off, it would be a long time before Rebecca saw her again.

  Nine. Wearisome steps

  “This is the dullest one of these I’ve ever been to.” Joe sighed. “I know, we should ditch this place and go dancing.”

  “Dressed like this?” Arthur watched the play between them, they were close, but there was something missing.

  “Come on Rebecca.” He said her name long and low and she rolled her eyes.

  “What do you want to do Arthur?”

  “Get out of here to be honest.”

  She took his hand, and Joe’s, and pulled them along. “Look at me with two hot guys.”

  A middle-aged woman tutted, Joe laughed, and Arthur wanted to crawl up his own arse. He had never seen Rebecca so carefree. He liked it, and wished he could do the same.

  The taxi arrived finally and they went into town.

  “Let’s go to Wards.” Joe beamed.

  “Ugh, no, too many annoying boys.”

  “That was my point.”

  Arthur frowned. “Am I missing something?”

  “I’m gay. You didn’t tell him?”

  “You’re not out. Not my place sweetie.”

  He grinned.

  “Ooh, let’s go to Volts. Loads of cheese for dancing.” Rebecca beamed.

  They club was packed when they went in, everyone looked sideways at them, and as Arthur undid his bowtie, Rebecca smiled at the image. She’d store that for later. He looked so good.

  Arthur went for the drinks and she and Joe looked at each other.

  “When you want me to go, I’m out.”

  “Thanks, but there’s no need. Besides, you promised me a good time.”

  Arthur came over. Rebecca sipped her drink, glancing up at Arthur, he still looked grim, not as sick as he had, but grim.

  She shimmied her shoulders to the beat.

  She finished her drink in one go when the music changed. It was an outrageous song that she secretly loved. She began to muse that her love of music was something of an outlet for her repression.

  She tried to pull the guys onto the dancefloor with her, but they firmly refused, feeling far too self-conscious in their tuxedos. She shrugged, ditched her bag, and went to the dancefloor.

  Arthur had never heard the song, but when he heard the words, his eyes went wide as he watched her dance to the most overtly sexual number he could imagine. Rebecca just let go, it was easier to do now, she was learning who she was and how to be her, and she was loving it. She bunched her fingers into her hair, unravelling it from her up do, leaving it in messy curls.

  Arthur watched, she was so different, he’d seen her dance before, but she looked freer, happy, and it was beautiful.

  Joe patted him on the shoulder.

  “We should help her out.” He grinned and nodded back at her, someone was dancing close to her, getting closer every moment.

  Arthur couldn’t do it. Not yet. He looked pained.

  “It’s okay, I’ll go, but, just so we’re clear, I’m gay.”

  Arthur smiled, but could only watch. She threw her arms around Joe, and he twirled her round. They moved in unison, and the other guy danced away.

  He wanted to go to her, but the moment he did, he’d lose control, he knew it. Even if she said she had been willing, she was drunk, and had taken advantage of that, hadn’t he?

  He sighed, he wasn’t sure anymore. It seemed what had happened had become worse in his mind over time, perhaps it wasn’t as he remembered it, it certainly wasn’t from her point of view.

  She looked over to him, her eyes were shining, she looked so beautiful, he took a deep breath, not taking his eye off her, finished his beer, picked up her clutch, and joined them.

  She danced between the two of them, they drank, they laughed, and the whole time, he suppressed the overwhelming want of her.

  Close to two, they piled in a taxi, dropped Joe off on the way to Nattleton. They pulled up in front of Alice’s home.

  “Why don’t you stay? I’m not that tired, and we haven’t really talked that much.”

  He was so tempted, to talk, maybe kiss a little, snuggle down with her. He shuttered the thought.

  “I should go home.”

  “Okay.” She smiled, and hugged him tight as the taxi waited for her to get out##. “Come over whenever you want, call or text me whenever you want. I mean it.”

  She pressed a brief kiss to his lips before she got out.

  All the next day he thought about her. What he wanted, what she wanted.

  He hadn’t even hoped to be friends with her again, never mind anything more. For himself, he couldn’t rush this. What had happened had a profound effect on him. It was nuanced and difficult. He needed to talk to someone, but the person he wanted to turn to, was the person involved.

  They had to talk, sober, impartially.

  He turned up for Sunday dinner. Rebecca had text Arthur on Saturday, after telling Alice that they had made up their differences and they were friends again, Alice had only smiled.

  The smell of roast beef assaulted him as he went in.

  It was warmer that day, he was casually dressed, and he went into the kitchen to find it empty, he could hear Rebecca’s little radio, and he found his mum under the shade of the umbrella at the table in the garden, already with a glass of wine. Rebecca was crouched over a large lavender bush.

  “What’s she doing?”

  “There’s a butterfly. Little blue one. She’s been trying to take a photo of it for ten minutes.” He grinned and crept up on her.

  The butterfly flew off when she stood up. The sun was in her eyes and she was wearing the little blue patterned sundress he liked. She looked so sweet.

  “Look!” It was a nice photo of the little thing. “Anyway, sorry. Wine?” she looked self-conscious, and all he wanted to do was kiss her. This was killing him already.

  How she could bear to cook a massive roast dinner on such a warm day was beyond him, but it was delicious. They went in as the sun crept round, and sat in the kitchen. They chatted, but he just wanted to watch her. He helped serve and carve; it felt oddly familiar, as if they had been doing it all their lives.

  She put a large apple crumble to warm in the oven, with vanilla cream she had whipped herself. It was the best thing he had ever eaten.

  She put a large portion in a plastic clip box for him to take home, along with another box of left over beef, and a Yorkshire pudding. She’d even made them.

  He’d have to go for a long run to work it off, and the tension he felt every time he looked at her.

  They watched TV after, and he napped. It felt good to relax finally. He woke at seven, his mother absent, Rebecca struggling to knit. She was unravelling whatever it was she had been trying to make as she sat cross legged in her armchair.

  “Hey sleepy.” She beamed.


  He rubbed his face. “Tea?”

  “Oh lovely. Yes please, and there are some chocolate biscuits in the tin with the ducks on.” He came back a few minutes later, with a tray all laid out.

  “You made these?” he ate one. “Jesus. You should open a bakery or something, these are amazing.” He stuffed another one in as she laughed.

  She took one herself. He was tonguing the chocolate from his teeth. “We should talk, Arthur.”

  “Look. I’ll be honest, this is weird for me.”

  “Why?”

  “I want this. Part of me really wants this, but at the same time, I’m worried. I still feel strange, I know what you said, and I see you’re okay, but…I don’t know.”

  “Tell me what you thought that night. Not what you think now, or what you think you thought then, tell me what happened.”

  He frowned. “I realised you were drunk, you were in a bit of a state. I felt terrible. I knew I needed to be careful, I knew that if I did the wrong thing it would jeopardise what we had. Have.”

  “That’s fair. At what point did you think you had almost attacked me?”

  “I just…I don’t know. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like that’s what I’d done.”

  She thought for a minute. “Was Victoria always with you?”

  Arthur nodded and frowned. “She is powerfully manipulative, if she wants you to feel something...”

  “You feel it. Have you spoken to her?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “She hates me because she knows what I am.” She ate another biscuit.

  “And that is?”

  “Poor. Comprehensive educated, no uni, from a council estate. What I have achieved doesn’t matter, that I pulled myself out of poverty, and away from criminality is irrelevant. To people like her, the distinction of class is important. Makes people like her feel like they matter.”

  “Is that what you think of me?”

  “No. I think you’re a rarity. We are from different worlds though, and people in your world will mark it. I don’t have anything to do with where I came from.”

  “I don’t care, only we matter in our relationship. Mum loves you.”

  She sighed. “It’s still a little strange for me, you being my boss. This is my workplace and my home, the boundaries are complicated.”

  “I know. That is why we aren’t rushing anything. Time will prove to us that this what we want, for the right reasons, not just lust. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  “Good.”

  “Right then.” They looked at each other. “I should go. Where’s mum?”

  “In bed. She’s been a little tired lately. I’ll call the doctor tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. If you need anything let me know.” She handed him the leftovers at the door. He smiled, but didn’t kiss her when he left.

  She leant against the front door and sighed.

  “Well?” Rebecca laughed when Alice popped her head round the landing.

  “Too soon.”

  “Good grief, what it is it with the young people these days? Get on with it.”

  “Alice, there’s not a war on.” She shouted in feigned indignity.

  “I’m not that old, young lady. Well, not quite.” She tutted but laughed.

  Rebecca read in bed, she left the French windows open in the muggy night. She tried to read, but her mind kept wandering back to Arthur.

  She didn’t care anymore that he was her boss, it wasn’t important enough, she loved him, and wanted him. It might take him a little while to be okay with her, but he would, he loved her too. She smiled.

  It was only ten, she text him goodnight, his response was immediate. She attempted to be cool. She was not cool.

  For a few weeks, they flirted, held off, a little light sexting, but no dates, and no kissing.

  Summer seemed to go on forever, September was nearly on them, and Rebecca attempted to knit an actual scarf, and she almost made one, but it still looked like someone had knitted it with their eyes closed and with no needles. Alice would laugh, while Rebecca threw her wool in a fit of pique, only to unravel, reroll, and cast off once more.

  Arthur came for dinner four times a week. He looked better, he was eating more, but working hard. All the sadness had gone, but he was worn to the bone.

  Rebecca fed him, and made the warm evenings comfortable and happy. She was however, becoming frustrated. The nights when he’d had a couple of glasses of wine and fell asleep were the worst. She just wanted to climb into bed with him, but she didn’t fear him kicking her out, she couldn’t have explain why she was reluctant to move forward. Perhaps she was afraid he would reject her again, or that it just wasn’t the right time, it felt wrong to move forward while she was looking after his mother, for a wage.

  Arthur, on the other hand was tired, he wasn’t sleeping, and the only time he could sleep was at his mum’s. It was ridiculous. He knew he wanted to be near Rebecca, he wanted her, but he couldn’t just take her back to his for the night.

  When Rebecca had taken Alice to the doctors, she underwent a number of tests, her heart was weak, her blood pressure was high, and about ten other things were found out. He could see her ailing, her eyes were a little duller, she moved with difficulty. She’d hold her knitting but barely move the needles.

  He loved how Rebecca made her feel better by getting Alice to help her instead. She was so kind, and was needed more than ever. It just didn’t feel right to take her away from Alice, to be selfish. He’d rather spend the time he could with them both, a cosy little household.

  He was tempted though, how many times did he want to go to her at night, or to snuggle down with her on the settee. But that was a dangerous road, and he didn’t know how much he could take before things went too far.

  Yet he’d rather endure it, rather than the alternative.

  The Practice nurse came out to the house to check on Alice, as she’d been unwell for a few days, and Rebecca didn’t want to risk taking her to the doctors.

  Yet she was herself as ever, kind and sweet, her face crinkling in mirth when she spoke, always teasing her about Arthur.

  She went to lie down after taking a little soup, and Rebecca cleaned. Her phone rang mid-vacuum.

  “I won’t be able to make dinner.” He sounded worn.

  “Don’t worry, your mum is in bed, she feels a bit crap still.”

  “Do you want to get the doctor out?”

  “If she’s like this tomorrow I will. I wonder if it’s the medication she’s on. Is everything all right? You sound tired again, you work too hard.”

  “Thank you, I’m okay. Better for talking to you.”

  “That’s sweet.” He could hear the smile in her voice and he sat back in his office chair and sighed.

  “We’ve been working on this massive contract, it’s a really big deal for us. If I can get it sorted and hand it off, I can delegate more and step back. I might have to go to London tomorrow and stay overnight, but I’ll be back on Saturday, and hopefully by then I can relax a bit.”

  “Well, good luck. Remember, if you need me, you know where I am.”

  He paused. “I do need you.”

  “Thank you.” She felt a little awkward, having fifty things she wanted to say, but was completely unable to say them.

  The doctor didn’t seem overly concerned and Rebecca was a little happier. For a few days, everything seemed fine.

  Arthur arrived, a little lighter after his meeting. He seemed relieved but thoughtful. They sat in the kitchen as normal, while Rebecca iced a cake.

  “What’s the occasion?” Arthur dipped his finger into the buttercream, and Rebecca smacked his hand. Alice laughed.

  “You two are like children.” Alice was still smiling, and when Rebecca looked back at her, she saw contentment there, she saw love in her eyes. Arthur stayed close to Rebecca, he couldn’t move away. She smelt of vanilla and cake, and the perfume he bought her. He watched her spread the frosting.

  H
is hand brushed hers as she was tidying up, he didn’t move from the sink, and she ended up standing with him right at her side. It was complete torture, and utterly wonderful at the same time. Rebecca listened to Arthur chat with his mum, and smiled when she laughed.

  It was a good day. He left, almost reluctantly, and she handed him a little box of muffins to take home.

  “You’re going to make me fat.”

  “I’d love you anyway.” He sobered and looked at her, she blushed and squirmed.

  He cupped her face gently. He touched her forehead with his, and let himself feel it, he dropped his lips to hers, and pressed the lightest kiss there. Her hand held his wrist, desperate to keep him there.

  “You could stay.”

  “I can’t, not here.” She nodded and let him go. He was right, but he saying no to her at every turn was wearing her down.

  Rebecca got up Monday morning, wondering if Arthur would be happier at work today. She pottered in her fluffy robe, yawning as she made tea for Alice. She sipped her coffee and wondered at the bright morning.

  As normal, she went up with Alice’s pretty teacup and knocked on her door.

  “Morning.” Rebecca opened the curtains, the weak dawn filled the room. “Alice do you need help sitting up?”

  Silence.

  Rebecca turned to the bed and looked at Alice, her mouth was open, sheets barely disturbed, her eyes were closed, and she looked asleep. It took a few seconds for Rebecca to realise what was wrong. She was utterly still, Alice wasn’t breathing.

  “Alice?” she moved slowly to the bed and touched her hand. She was cold. She couldn’t move. Alice was gone. Just like that.

  She stood for a few minutes in shock. She swallowed her emotion, and made herself walk out of the room, taking the cup of tea with her. She closed the door and sat on the top stair.

  She sat there for ages, looking into nothing. The hall clock ticked, she didn’t think, she was so shocked she couldn’t do anything. The tea was cold when she came to herself. Arthur. His face came to her mind. She went and grabbed her phone, wondering what she would say. It was only seven.

  He answered on the third ring, not quite awake.

  “Good morning.” He sounded happy.