What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)
Page 72
‘Ditto, Grace.’
Lisa opens the door looking tired but incredibly happy. ‘Hey, you.’ She looks over my shoulder at Ben. ‘And hey you, too!’
I hug her. ‘How are you? Can I see the baby? Did it go OK? How was the birth? Was it painful?’ I babble on.
Ben shuts the door as Lisa pulls me down the hallway into the lounge. Sleeping in a car seat is the most gorgeous little bundle, with puffy pink cheeks and long blonde eyelashes.
‘She’s beautiful.’ I bend down and stare at her perfect face.
‘She is, but she’s a screamer. Already!’ She grins at me. ‘She must get that from Jack. It’s definitely not from me.’
Ben kneels next to me to admire her. ‘She’s got your nose, Lisa.’
Lisa touches her nose. ‘Do you think so?’
‘Uh-huh.’
Leila wakes up then, sees two strangers practically in her face, and screams.
‘See, I told you.’ Lisa picks her up and cradles her. ‘Shh.’ She rests her lips on the baby’s fine hair and whispers to her. ‘She’s hungry, another thing she takes after Jack with.’ Lisa bottle-feeds Leila as Ben slips off to the toilet. ‘Oh my God. Tell me everything, quick, before he comes back!’ Lisa gives me a knowing look.
‘What?’ I fake ignorance.
‘You. Him. You’re together, right?’
I can’t hold back the beaming smile. ‘Yep.’
‘I knew it. I could see it before you could even see it yourself.’ She grins. ‘I’m jealous.’
‘How can you be jealous?’ I laugh. ‘You’ve got Jack and this gorgeous girl.’
She waves a hand through the air. ‘OK, I’m not jealous. Ben’s so loved up, I can see it a mile off.’
‘Really? You think?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ She raises her eyebrows and studies me. ‘So are you. The way you look at each other is like fireworks are about to go off. I think he’s a really great guy.’ Her face turns serious for a second. ‘He’s a keeper, Grace.’
Ben comes back into the room, and it’s probably obvious we’ve been talking about him since my face flushes with a thousand volts.
When Leila’s had enough milk, Lisa sits her up and burps her.
‘Can I hold her?’ Ben asks.
‘Of course. Just make sure you support her head.’ Lisa shows him how to carry Leila and slides her into Ben’s arms. He walks round the room, cooing at Leila, kissing her head. It’s so gentle, so adorable, and so utterly sexy seeing him like that. It makes me dare to dream of a future now.
Our future.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Ben
‘Well done, ladies. You should all be really proud of yourselves. You’ve finished the self-defence course, and I hope it’s taught you some great strategies to use if you’re ever in danger.’ I smile at the group of women in front of me at the Women’s Centre.
They clap, looking elated and more confident in being able to deal with a possible threat. They give me a chorus of ‘Thanks’ and hug each other.
‘If you have time, I have some feedback questionnaires you can fill in about the course.’ I wave a stack of forms in the air and put them on the table at the back of the room.
Kate, the director of the Women’s Centre, opens the door and pokes her head round. She’s in her late fifties with short grey hair and a calm, professional, and capable air about her, but she’s not standoffish in any way. She’s kind and caring and always has a smile for everyone. From what I’ve seen of her, she’s a champion for the women who come here. Seeing we’ve finished, she makes her way over, chatting to some people on the way.
‘I wanted to have a word with you. Is now a good time?’ she asks.
Kate knows about my past. When my parole officer was helping me set up the voluntary courses here, he obviously disclosed it to her. Usually, people see I’ve got a criminal record and that’s it. Doors closed. Amazingly, though, she thought my MMA background would make me better at teaching the classes and was prepared to take a chance on me. She’s one of the few people I’ve come across who thinks like that.
But tonight she looks serious. I’m worried she’s going to pull the plug on the courses, and I think they’ve been going really well.
Inside my guts churn, but I cover my nervousness with a smile. ‘Yes, of course.’
She tilts her head at the doorway. ‘Come into my office.’
I follow her out, and some of the women thank me again.
She sits at her desk and swings round in her chair to face me. ‘Shut the door, please.’
I do what she says and sit opposite her.
‘The feedback you’ve been getting from the self-defence course has been good. The women feel really comfortable with you.’
‘Thanks, I’m just glad I can do something constructive for them.’ I wait for the big ‘but’ to come. There’s always a ‘but’.
‘You’ve also finished your counselling accreditation now, haven’t you?’
‘Yes. I’ve been applying for some full time jobs, but nothing so far.’ I give her a small shrug.
She steeples her fingers then rests them against her lips, studying me for a moment. ‘Why did you want to be a counsellor, Ben?’
‘Pardon?’ The question surprises me.
‘I’m just interested in what got you to this point.’
I adjust myself in my seat. ‘Well…I wanted to become a counsellor because it gives me the strength and purpose to go on with my own life, I suppose.’
She nods slowly, and I don’t know if that’s a good answer or a bad one. It’s the only answer I have, because it’s the truth.
‘A while back your parole officer mentioned you wanted to specialize in rape counselling’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘I’d like to know why you chose this area in particular, because the majority of rape counsellors are female. I’m guessing there’s a story behind it.’
My mouth goes dry. ‘Yes, there is.’
‘We have an opening coming up, and I think you could be a suitable candidate.’
‘That’s fantastic.’
‘But I wanted to find out what that story was first.’
Sweat pricks on my palms. I wipe them down the front of my jogging bottoms.
‘Maybe I should start by telling you my own story,’ she says.
I swallow through the tight lump in my throat, trying to bring some moisture back.
She studies me for a moment before dropping something on me I wasn’t expecting. ‘When I was eighteen, I was convicted of shoplifting.’
As a counsellor, my job isn’t to judge people. I’m there to give them the tools to help them cope, heal, and move on with their lives in a positive way. And not much surprises me anymore. Take thousands of men, mix them together in a prison, take the time to study human nature, and you’ll see everything and anything. Every trait, emotion, or personal history you can possibly imagine. But this. This does surprise me, and yet it shouldn’t, really. Everyone has a story to tell.
‘What? I don’t seem like a shoplifter?’ She tilts her head, a brief smile in place. ‘Did you think I was born a fifty-six-year-old counsellor?’
‘Well…no.’
‘I ran away from home when I was fifteen because of abuse, and I lived on the streets for a while, sleeping rough, stealing food where I could.’
I shake my head sadly. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you.’
‘It was a long time ago.’ She shrugs. ‘I turned to alcohol and became an alcoholic before I was sixteen.’ She swivels in her chair. ‘The conviction saved my life, really. The court ordered me to go into an AA programme. The man who ran it, Bob, was an ex-alcoholic who’d lost everything because of his addiction—his wife, his job as a city stock broker, his home, everything. He was one of the most amazing people I’ve met in my life. He pulled his life back together, and he taught me and so many others to do the same.’
‘He sounds like a great guy.’
‘He was. My point is
, I know things aren’t always black and white. Circumstances make people do things they wouldn’t normally do, but people can change and turn their lives around. I do believe in second chances, unlike many people. If I hadn’t had a second chance, I have no doubt I’d be dead now. And yet here I am.’ She lifts her hands in the air, palms up, in a simple gesture. ‘I’m doing something worthwhile. Doing something that helps other women get back on their feet again. And one powerful lesson I learnt along the way is the thing that makes someone like Bob or I good at our jobs is that we’ve been where those people are, and we’ve survived. Sometimes you have to go there to come back.’
My eyes water, and I blink.
‘I think what makes the difference between a good counsellor and a brilliant one is someone who’s hit the ground, waded through the crap, and fought back. And I see that in you, Ben. In fact, you remind me a lot of myself.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But I need to be sure about things, because this centre deals with vulnerable women.’ She pauses for a second. ‘I know about your conviction and spoke to your parole officer on many occasions when he was liaising with me to set up your self-defence classes. I also read the court transcripts. But I want to hear the story from you, because I think there’s more to it than what I know so far.’
I’m speechless for a moment. This is the last thing I was expecting. My chance to finally move forward is hanging in the balance. Maybe my only chance, because I’ve never met someone with such open-mindedness about my conviction.
I take a deep breath. She’s the first person I tell everything to. The whole story, not just part of it.
The story I never told my lawyer, the judge, or my parents, because I made a promise to Mia. But I have my own demons, and I need to tell someone, even if it means blowing every chance I have of getting this job. Maybe ‘need’ is the wrong word. I have to tell her. Holding it all inside is tearing me apart.
As I talk, she nods but doesn’t interrupt me. Her eyes water a few times, and she blinks rapidly to clear them.
When I finish, she swivels in her chair, fingers steepled together again. ‘Did you ever talk to anyone about this? The prison counsellor?’
‘I talked to them about the conviction, but not the circumstances that led up to it.’
‘It could’ve got you a reduced sentence if you’d told the police.’
‘Maybe, but I made a promise to my sister. She didn’t want anyone to know, and I couldn’t betray her.’
‘I’m sensing you still feel guilty about it.’
I take a deep breath. Look up at the ceiling. ‘Of course I do. How could I not?’
‘You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel guilty, Ben. But you have to begin to forgive yourself. As a counsellor, you must know that. You know forgiving yourself isn’t the same as saying what happened is OK, but it gives you the power to move on and heal from it.’
I run a hand over my hair. ‘I know.’
‘Shall I tell you what I see?’
I don’t answer because I know it’s rhetorical, and she’s going to tell me anyway. I close my eyes for a second. My future is riding on this, and I don’t think I want to hear what she’s going to say.
‘I see a man who loved his sister deeply and was devastated by what happened. I see someone who put her ahead of himself, even when it could’ve saved him. I see a man who was provoked and caught up in a tragic accident. Someone who has taken their experience and turned it into something positive that will help other people. I see someone who’s fought hard to change his life. Someone with considerable strength and courage. You’re bigger than what happened to you, Ben, and you’re stronger and more compassionate because of it. You’ve hit the ground, crawled through that crap, and come out the other side. So, yes, my gut feelings were right about you, and I really, really hate to be wrong.’ She gives me a warm smile.
I exhale the breath I’ve been holding.
She slides a form across the desk. ‘I want you to fill in the application form.’
I’m speechless with the things she’s just said and stare at her with disbelief.
‘You can say something if you want.’ She laughs.
‘Er…thank you. I don’t really know what to say.’
‘Then don’t say anything. But if you ever want to talk in depth about it, my door’s always open.’
‘Thank you again.’
She stands up and shakes my hand. As I head out the door, my heart and head race. I’m one step closer to everything I wanted, but I still don’t know if I deserve it.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Grace
A few weeks later, I wake up to an empty bed. Ben has left me to sleep in while he teaches his Sunday self-defence class. I smile as I shower and change, thinking about how all the right pieces are slipping into place for both of us. The possibility of his new job is so exciting, and surely, the only way is up. If only I could completely let go of my fears and finally have sex with him, life would be perfect.
But it will happen. Soon. I know it will.
It has to.
It’s as if he’s slowly, gently chasing away the ghosts and demons locked in my head as he worships my body with his tongue and his mouth, his hands and his words. It’s unhurried, gentle, as if we’re the only two people in the world. I’m learning to let myself relax and do the same for him. Learning what he wants and needs. Even though I’m inexperienced, I want to give him the same pleasure he gives me.
I love how his eyes roll back as he orgasms. How he calls my name, tells me how beautiful I am, tells me he loves me. At night we fall asleep locked in each other’s arms, naked, his breath against my skin. Knowing I can reach out and touch him in the middle of the night is like heaven. Having him there, holding me, chases the nightmares away. But he never tries to push me to the next level. Full intimacy is still just out of my reach. I’m not ready yet. But I’m the one who decides what I do with my body now, and every day I’m a little step closer. I’m in control and I know that, which makes me love him even more.
The bistro is busy with the Sunday lunchtime crowd. It’s become our favourite place to hang out and have lunch after Ben teaches his self-defence class. As we wait for Lisa, Jack, and Leila to arrive, I flick through a tabloid while Ben reads the serious paper.
‘OK, here’s a good one.’ He glances up from the paper, giving me a lazy smile before reading out the words. ‘“Elephant Urine in Muffin Recipes Makes for Better Cakes”.’
I laugh. ‘You just made that up, didn’t you?’
‘I did not!’ He tries to sound indignant, but it’s not working. He slides the paper round to me. ‘See for yourself.’
‘Hmm.’ I pick up my paper and look for a good one. ‘How about this, then? “Baked Beans in Transsexual Row”. I think transsexual baked beans trumps elephant wee any day. Or, how about this…“Condom Lorry Spills Load”.’
We both burst out laughing.
‘“Old Aged Pensioner Baffles Scientists with Two Metre Marrows”.’ He waggles his eyebrows at me.
Determined not to be beaten, I scan the paper hard. ‘“Dirty Protest at Sewage Plant”.’
He shakes his head with a smile on his face. ‘OK, you might just beat me. Again.’ He leans over and kisses me.
‘Hey, break it up you two!’ a female voice says.
We look up and Lisa and Jack are standing there. Leila, cute and cozy in her car seat, is asleep. I hug Lisa as Jack and Ben do a male back-patting thing.
Lisa shrugs off her jacket across the back of the chair. ‘So, what’s new?’
‘Nothing much. Ben’s got an interview tomorrow.’ I smile proudly at him.
‘That’s great,’ Jack says. ‘Where?’
‘The Cambridge Women’s Centre,’ Ben says. ‘They’re looking for another counsellor.’
‘Fantastic. Can you give Jack a few tips on women?’ Lisa says, elbowing Jack in the ribs.
My face drops for a moment at her joke. I haven’t told her
about the impending rape trial. Maybe one day I will. If she knew about Mia and me, she wouldn’t joke about Ben’s job.
‘Well, now you’ve got two women in the house, we’re definitely going to win any arguments,’ Lisa jokes. ‘Hey, you OK?’ she says when she notices my expression.
I summon a smile. I don’t want to think about the trial. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’
A waiter brings round menus and takes our drink orders.
‘How’s she doing, then?’ I smile down at Leila and stroke her face. I can’t resist those chubby cheeks.
‘She’s surprisingly good,’ Jack says.
‘That’s because you’re always at work and you mostly see her when she’s asleep,’ Lisa says. ‘No, honestly, though, she couldn’t be more well-behaved.’
Ben takes my hand and places it on his knee under the table, making soft circular motions on my palm as he chats with Jack about cars. I’m instantly warm inside and have to concentrate on what Lisa’s saying, because even this simple touch has me groaning with pleasure inside.
After lunch, we all walk along the river with Ben carrying Leila in his arms. It looks so adorable and protective as his large hands cradle her tiny head. When the guys walk ahead of us, Ben looks at me over his shoulder, grinning, like a secret message he’s sending me that one day he wants this to be ours—the marriage, the baby, or even a whole brood of them.
‘So, any plans?’ Lisa raises her eyebrows at me.
‘What do you mean?’ I know exactly what she means.
‘You know.’ She elbows me. ‘He’s obviously great with babies. Look at him carrying Leila and talking baby talk to her! And he’s great with you, too.’
‘I’m not thinking about any of that.’ Yeah, it’s a total lie. I am thinking about the future with Ben. I’m thinking about it a lot.
‘Uh-huh.’ Her tone clearly says she doesn’t believe me. ‘Do you love him?’
‘Yes.’ I don’t even hesitate.
‘Have you told him?’
‘Nope.’
‘Why not?’ She gawks at me.