The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “It was a week before my eighteenth birthday. There’d been some event up at the Base—my first big formal. I’d loved all the dressing up—it seemed so glamorous to me.” I took a deep breath. “We did it on the passenger seat of his car. It was … unpleasant. It hurt.”

  “Have you…?” He bit his lip, unable to finish the question.

  “Have I what?”

  “I know I have no right to ask, Caro, but since … since me and you … have you … slept … with him?”

  I could tell this was a question he’d wanted to ask me for a while.

  “No, tesoro. I haven’t let him touch me since our first night together.”

  I didn’t think he needed to hear that I’d jerked David off instead.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, tesoro. It’s only since I’ve met you that I’ve known what it’s like to make love; really make love.”

  And I kissed him, desperately, passionately, to show him that I meant every word. He held me to him, our mouths locked together, breathing each other in.

  “Don’t go back to him tonight, Caro, please.”

  “I have to, Sebastian. After I drop you off at the club, I’m going to check out those rooms. I’m sure one of them will do. I’ll put down a deposit and move my stuff in tomorrow. Then, when I’ve got somewhere to go, I’ll tell him that I want a divorce—tomorrow evening. I’ll be able to go straight away.”

  “I don’t like leaving you with that asshole! You don’t know what he’ll do! He could hurt you again!”

  Sebastian’s body filled with tension and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

  “He won’t hurt me. Yesterday evening was an accident. Yes, he’s a bastard, but he’s not like that.”

  It was clear that he didn’t believe me. Perhaps he needed David to be as big a bastard as his father.

  “I can come over tomorrow morning and help you pack,” he offered, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

  “There won’t be much—just my clothes and a few bits and pieces.”

  “I want to help.”

  “It’s probably best if I do it myself after he’s gone to work tomorrow. I’ll meet you after I’ve moved into the new place.”

  He scowled, unhappy with my plan.

  “Sebastian, I have to do this by myself. It’s my mess—I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

  “If he lays one finger on you, I’ll fucking crucify him!”

  “He won’t. I promise. I’ll be fine.” I glanced at my watch. “Look, we should go now. You have to be at work in half an hour.”

  “I mean it, Caro, I’ll rip his fucking arms off!”

  I didn’t think there was any point replying so I picked up my empty bottle and Sebastian’s can and shoved them in my purse, and waited for him to get off the picnic blanket so I could fold it.

  He stood up and pulled his t-shirt on but his expression was still angry.

  “Hey, come here!”

  I dropped my bag on the floor and wrapped my arms around him, willing his tension and anger away.

  “We’ve just got one more day to get through and then I’ll be free of him. One more day, tesoro. Just one more day. We can do it.”

  After that we walked back to the car in silence but I could tell his mind was still mulling over everything I’d told him. I hoped it would be busy at the club to help distract him.

  As I drove, my right foot started to feel very sore. I glanced down and noticed that the dressing was wet. Damn. The blister must have burst. I really needed to re-do it before I started traipsing around the city or it would be a lot worse. I decided to ask at the club’s reception to see if they’d let me use their First Aid Kit, once I’d dropped Sebastian at the parking lot. I really didn’t want to give him another reason to imagine doing violence to David.

  “Can I see you tonight?” he said, his eyes already knowing my answer.

  “No, I need to pack and sort out a few things. I’ll text you tomorrow when … I’ve moved.”

  He sighed and got out of the car, then stood, waiting for me to leave.

  “I … have to go and check up on something in reception,” I said. “I’ll text you later.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  He walked away, his hands jammed in his pockets. I could tell he felt miserable from the set of his shoulders—and because I felt exactly the same way.

  I waited for him to disappear out of sight, then headed to reception where I explained my predicament.

  “Of course, ma’am,” said the helpful receptionist. “I’ll just send for one of our first aiders.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary, I can do it myself.”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” she said, not sounding at all sorry. “I have to call it in.”

  She made a call and a few moments later Ches came striding over, a look of surprise on his face when he saw me.

  “Hi, Caroline. How are you?”

  “Good thanks, Ches. You?”

  “I got a call that someone needed first aid?”

  “Yes, this lady here needs some help,” said the receptionist, obviously having one ear tuned to our conversation.

  “It’s nothing, really,” I said hastily.

  “I’ll take Mrs. Wilson to the med room, Nancy,” said Ches, to the receptionist.

  She nodded and returned to her computer screen, having already lost interest.

  Reluctantly, I followed him. If I’d known what a fuss was going to be made, I’d have waited until I could have gotten to a pharmacy in town.

  It felt awkward being alone in the small room with Ches. He looked uncomfortable, too, shifting around from foot to foot. Maybe he thought I was going to leap on him.

  “I just need to change a dressing on my foot,” I said quietly. “Do you have some gauze and tape?”

  “Sure. You want me to do that?”

  “No, that’s fine, thank you, Ches. I’ll be fine.”

  I sat down on the low hospital bed and rolled up my pants leg to my ankle, then tugged gently on the gauze. It was stuck fast. I was going to have to yank it off—and it was going to hurt.

  I took a deep breath and pulled hard—a huge flap of skin came away with the gauze. My foot looked like raw meat.

  “Wow! That looks bad,” said Ches, his eyes anxious. “I think maybe a doctor should see that.”

  Then he blushed, remembering that I was married to a doctor.

  We heard voices outside and Sebastian burst in, a worried looking Nancy hot on his heels.

  “Caro! Are you okay?”

  Damn it! Hadn’t he listened when I’d told him to be more discreet?

  “I’m fine, thank you,” I said as calmly as possible. “Ches is looking after me.”

  Perhaps noting my chilly reception, or Ches’s panicked look, Sebastian took the hint and closed the door in the face of the nosey Nancy.

  “Dude, that looks pretty bad to me,” Ches said quietly to Sebastian, pointing at my foot.

  “I’m fine,” I repeated, not at all happy to be the subject of their combined attention. It was like being a particularly ugly zoo exhibit.

  “What happened?” said Ches.

  “Just a silly accident.”

  “It wasn’t an accident,” snarled Sebastian. “Her bastard husband did that to her. Show him the rest of your burns!”

  He yanked up my pants leg and Ches’s eyes scrunched up in horror.

  “It was an accident,” I whispered again, pushing his hands away.

  I couldn’t take the pity I saw on Ches’s face and the anger on Sebastian’s.

  To the accompaniment of their silent stares, I cleaned the wound with some saline, applied a thick layer of antibiotic cream and covered it up again. Sebastian’s eyes watched every move I made. Ches was desperately ill at ease; I decided to help him out—and reduce the excess of tension in the room.

  “Ches, could you give us a moment, please?”

  “Sure, sure. Seb,
I’ll see you later, man.”

  Sebastian nodded but didn’t look at Ches as he ducked out of the room.

  “I want to kill him!” he said between gritted teeth.

  “Sebastian, please don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” he snarled.

  “Make things harder for me.”

  He blinked, his expression changing from fury to hurt.

  “How am I making things harder? I just want to help. I love you!”

  “I know that, but right now what I need is for you to be calm and in control. If you keep charging in on your white horse to save me, people will start to notice.” If they haven’t already. “And the last thing, the last thing I need right now is for anyone to see you treating me as anything other than just another member here. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I understand—I’m not a fucking idiot!”

  “Good. Then please tell me why you’re here, making a scene in front of that receptionist, when Ches was looking after me?”

  Every emotion was transparent as it scrolled across his face: surprise, anger, hurt—again—and then understanding and shame.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just … I go a little a crazy when I think you’re hurt.”

  “I know, tesoro. I understand, but can you see how that makes things harder for me?”

  “Yeah, I get it. Sorry.”

  “Okay. Then just hold me.”

  He pulled our bodies together and we stood in silence, feeling the tension ebb and flow.

  “Okay?” I asked, stroking his cheek.

  He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  He didn’t look fine: he looked stressed out and worried.

  “Okay. I’ll text you later—hopefully to tell you that I’ve found a room.”

  He sketched a smile.

  “Stay out of trouble till then?” I said, softly.

  “I’ll try,” he said, forcing a grin, “but I’m not making any promises.”

  I kissed him gently and walked back through the lobby, avoiding the over-curious eyes of Nancy.

  I was so distracted that I narrowly avoided walking smack bang into Brenda as she sashayed through the main doors.

  “Hi, Barbara!” I called cheerfully as I walked down the steps.

  “It’s Brenda!” she snarled.

  It really is the little things in life that matter.

  CHAPTER 17

  The first room to rent was a shithole that I wouldn’t even have let David sleep in. Well, probably not.

  Apart from the fact that the landlord answered the door in a knit undershirt that looked like it had last month’s breakfast down it, and talked to my cleavage rather than my face, the room he showed me smelled of cabbage and cat wee, and the carpet was tacky under my shoes. I didn’t even want to think about the stains on the bare mattress that was introduced to me as the bed but in fact was nearer to something that had been plucked from a landfill site sometime during the last year.

  The second room in a hip part of downtown was perfect—small but clean, in a house shared with two mature law students, Phyl and Beth. I put down a $60 retainer and drove away two parts happy, promising I’d be back tomorrow.

  They hadn’t probed too hard into why I was looking for a room, but they were bright women and I was sure they’d put two and two together during our brief conversation.

  When I got home (and I wouldn’t be using that word for much longer), I was surprised to see that David had been back—the evidence being dishes in the sink and a full basket of his dirty clothes next to the washing machine. He’d obviously waited until I’d gone out to make a stealthy return. That made two of us then. Two cowards locked in a loveless marriage.

  But not for much longer.

  I ignored the washing, faintly amused to think he’d have to learn how to wash his own damn clothes, or continue living in some hotel, as I guessed he must be doing.

  I filled my suitcase with all the clothes I could squeeze into it and shoved everything else into black garbage bags. What I removed from the house made almost no difference—it was only if David looked in my closet that he’d notice any major changes. That my 11 years with David had made such a small indentation was a sobering thought. I hadn’t been a bad wife, but I hadn’t been a companion to him either. Although it seemed doubtful that he’d ever wanted one. Still, it was a lonely way to live—for both of us.

  Six o’clock came and went—still no sign of David. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to tell him I was leaving him if he wasn’t even around himself: leave a note, send a text message, call his office, or even … drop by in person? None of them seemed particularly palatable. When I’d imagined telling him, I’d always assumed it would be in the privacy of our own front room.

  Just after 10 pm I got a text from Sebastian.

  * How’s it going? Did u get a room?

  Is the a*hole there? *

  I knew if I told Sebastian that David was AWOL, he’d want to come over. But without knowing where David was, or his intentions, it was risky. The smart thing was to wait another 24 hours. But being smart and being in love, well, that was oil and water.

  * By myself. Can Ches drop you downtown?

  Need to get out of here. *

  He replied immediately, as I knew he would.

  * 30 mins, jazz plaza. r u ok? *

  I didn’t know how to reply so I just sent a quick text agreeing to meet him where we’d seen the jazz band earlier in the day.

  The city felt very different at night. Once the sun had disappeared the laidback aura was tinged with a frisson of excitement, and an intangible air of possibilities. I was so close to being free, so close to restarting my life—it was a heady feeling. I was dizzy with unaccustomed recklessness—and I was going to see Sebastian.

  We had three more months before we could escape to New York—it was going to be a time of austerity, not that I cared about that, but I thought we deserved one night to really celebrate. So when I found myself outside a low- to medium-priced hotel, I hesitated less than the length of a heartbeat, booked a room, paid cash and put the keycard in my purse with a sense of abandonment.

  My impulsive decision made me slightly late getting to the plaza. My phone started ringing just as I spotted him scanning the crowds and running a hand through his hair.

  I watched him from a distance, enjoying that moment of seeing before touching. Dressed simply in washed-out denim and a plain, black t-shirt that emphasized his strong, slim build, he was a still point of light, surrounded by the swirling crowds.

  “Hi!” I said into my cell phone.

  “Where are you?” he said, sounding worried.

  “On my way,” I said, softly as I snuck up behind him and ran my hand over his toned ass.

  He jumped and turned around with a scowl on his face which broke into a huge, sexy smile when he saw me.

  “I’ve got to go now,” he breathed into the phone, “a beautiful woman is feeling me up.”

  “Is that right?”

  Hidden by the crowd I ran my hand up the front of his jeans.

  “Yeah,” he said into his cell phone, “I don’t know what she wants.”

  “She hasn’t given you a clue?” I asked, rubbing my hand over him again and feeling his body respond.

  “I think I’ll have to call you back,” he said, and snapped his phone shut.

  We stood staring at each other as I slowly lowered my cell phone.

  He took a pace forward so our bodies were nearly touching then he ran his hands lightly over my arms and rested his mouth on mine. I felt his warm breath wash over my face and his lips parted.

  It was hard to remember we were in a public place as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. Tasting him, touching him, losing myself in him—the world fell away. Eventually I pulled back, aware that there was a time and a place—and tonight we had both.

  “God, Caro!” he whispered and closed his eyes, just holding me to his chest.

  “Come on,”
I said, after a long moment, “let’s go for a walk.”

  He frowned, looking puzzled. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure, why?”

  He shrugged. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. I mean, I’m glad you’re here, but…”

  “Well, I’ve got everything packed up in my car. I … I just need to tell David. I was going to do it in the morning, but, well, he didn’t come home. And I wanted to see you.”

  “Good,” he said happily.

  I smiled up at him.

  “Are you hungry or is that a dumb question?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I could definitely eat something.”

  “Let’s head to Little Italy.”

  “Yeah! We can pretend we’ve got that motorcycle and we’re on our road trip!”

  We didn’t get quite that far before we found a small Sicilian café serving couscous al pesce, one of my favorite dishes—I was finding it hard to walk on by.

  “I don’t know, Caro,” said Sebastian, scanning the menu hanging up outside, “it’s not that cheap.”

  “I know it’s not, but tonight I don’t care—tonight I start my life over. Thanks to you.”

  He smiled down at me and his eyes glowed with love.

  “Really?”

  “Truly. We’re celebrating … and I’ve got another surprise. But that’s for later.”

  I tried to tug him into the café but he resisted. “Tell me!” he said his voice suddenly husky.

  I shook my head and smiled. “No, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

  “Caro, you’re driving me nuts! Please!”

  “Well, okay, as I don’t want to be the cause of your insanity … I’ve booked a hotel for us.”

  His breath hitched in his throat and his eyes widened. “A hotel?”

  I nodded and had to swallow when I saw his expression change from love to lust.

  “Let’s go now,” he said, pulling on my hand.

  “No, I want to eat—and you said yourself that you’re starving.”

  “We’ll get take-out!” he growled, tugging me down the street.

  I planted my feet and tugged back. “Sebastian, no!”

  He stopped, staring at me in hurt surprise.

  “Why not?”