by Billy London
He sensed it when they finished their meal and Helena tugged on her clothes, asking to see where he created music. It started to get out of control when she asked to hear him sing, and with his insistence, she sang along with him, in perfect harmony. They ignored the ringing phone when Helena proclaimed that After Laughter by Wendy Rene was her favourite song in the world. He had to kiss her for that.
Damaged by thinking he had earned this way of life, he hadn’t ever considered himself worthy of love. But this woman, with those glassy dark eyes, cropped hair that showed off her beautiful shoulders, her laugh, her sharpness… She slowly gave him the belief that maybe he had done enough penance to last several life times.
“Back upstairs?” he asked, when they emerged from the music room. Helena’s arms stole around his neck.
“I don’t know, I didn’t get any dessert,” she teased, giving a giggle when he kissed her.
“Wish granted,” he murmured, lowering her to the stairs, his hand warm and firm on her stomach. There was something utterly addictive in touching her skin, it felt like brushed velvet beneath his fingers.
“That’s good,” she sighed, “I like getting wishes.” He lifted the jumper from her torso and gave pause to admire her, briefly wishing he lived in a time of the Renaissance artists who would have fallen to their knees in gratitude for a muse such as her. They would have been allowed to look, feast their eyes, but never, ever allowed to touch. Only him. His hand slid inside her jeans and he hardened instantly at his discovery. Scalp tingling at the tug she gave on his hair when his fingers slid inside her, he curved them with insistence. His mouth touched her neck, the swell of her breasts and back to her lips. She tasted like ecstasy, he thought, his mouth trailing to her earlobe, biting down as she began to tighten around his soaked fingers.
“Auden,” she gave a gasping cry.
Satisfaction pulsed through his sex at the need in her voice. He wanted her to give herself completely to him, like she had only a few hours ago.
“Auden, stop.” She pushed at his shoulders, her eyes round with surprise, looking just beyond his shoulder as her orgasm took her. With Helena still shaking beneath him, his fingers caught in the grip of her body, he turned his head. His heart froze. Romely stood there, her mouth parted in horror.
“What are you doing?” Romely whispered.
Helena struggled from underneath him and righted her clothing. “What’s going on?”
Auden opened his mouth to speak, and found his throat closed up. Goddamn you, Romely!
She turned to Helena. “Do you know he’s in a relationship? With me? We have been for years.”
Helena looked at Auden, her eyes narrowed. “Is that true?”
No! He wanted to scream. Not a sound emerged from him.
Romely spoke again. “We’re trying to work things out. At least I thought we were. Do you like stealing other women’s men?”
“Wait a minute.” Helena got to her feet. “I didn’t know. I’m not psychic. I didn’t see or hear anything from Auden that you even exist.”
“But I do,” Romely said. “He can’t get away from that simple fact. I do exist. He and I are meant to be together.”
“I’d dump him if I were you,” Helena said harshly. “He obviously didn’t think about you once.” She turned back to Auden, her palm connecting painfully with his cheek, the sound echoing in the hallway. “You don’t seem like a coward. But I know better than anyone how appearances can be deceptive.” She started up the stairs. “I’ll just get my things and leave.”
Romely inclined her head. “I think that’s best. I can give you a lift to the station, if you like.”
Helena’s mouth parted in surprise before she said, “I’ll be all right. Thanks.”
As Helena hit the top step, Romely spoke. “Well, that was really inconsiderate of you.”
“Fuck you, Romely.” Auden blinked the water from his eyes, caused by Helena’s slap. She had a right to be angry; he wished he could correct her. He wanted to change her mind so badly. This was such bullshit.
Romely snorted. “If you had, it’d be a different story now, wouldn’t it?”
Furiously, he got to his feet, fully intending to strangle the life from her.
“Ah ah!” she held up a hand—preventing Auden from moving any closer. “You still don’t understand, do you? Even after all this time. You are mine. Just as I’m yours.”
“I don’t want you!” he shouted.
“I don’t believe you. We can do this dance for eternity, or you can start thinking smart. No more girls like that.” Romely gave a sneer. “She seems scared of her own shadow. Why would you waste your time?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” He sat back down on the step in defeat. “You’re a sith.” Her mouth tightened in disapproval. “We can carry this on as much as you like. I’ll still hate you.”
Her eyes danced with joy. “You know where that comes from, don’t you? It’s only the other side of love.”
He sent her a look he prayed conveyed how fucking stupid he found her. “It comes from the fact you have stolen everything good in my life because I don’t see you as anything more than a spot I could bleach out. You’re strong, but you can’t change our rules. You can’t make me love you.”
“I’m leaving you alone to get there by yourself.” She sighed. “You will. Just, focus.”
“Lift the curse.”
“No, Auden. It’s for your own good.”
“What do you know about what’s good for me?” he asked, perplexed. “That’s the problem, Romely, you don’t know me. You just have this fanciful idea about me that isn’t true.”
“It is! You just won’t admit what you are. I know you deep down. I saw it all those years ago. I saved you from a life of waste.”
“And keeping me a prisoner in my own home isn’t waste of life?”
Romely’s temper flared. “If you weren’t fucking strange women, you’d be meditating on how to make yourself a better man, the man that deserves me!”
“Oh Jesus Christ, no!” he bellowed.
Romely watched him, wide-eyed. He hadn’t displayed that much emotion to her in years. She gave a small shrug. “Then we’re back to the beginning.”
Helena hurtled down the stairs. “I’ll post the clothes back to you,” she said, barely looking at him.
No, don’t leave, please!
“Helena,” he started, before Romely locked his jaw with a single look. Helena murmured an apology to Romely.
“How will you get back to the house?” he ventured.
Still not looking at him, she indicated the door. “I’ve called a cab. It’s waiting outside.” Her gaze lifted, connecting with his own. “Oh… Go to hell.”
There was his salvation, walking away from him. Romely closed the door behind her and turned back to him. “How shall we work through this?” she asked with an expectant smile. “I mean I’m upset, but I forgive you.”
The lights inside the house dimmed, the clouds darkened the sky. Every single piece of furniture in the vicinity rose from the ground and launched toward Romely. With a scream, she held up her hands as the furniture exploded into dust. Covered in powdered wood and grit, she heaved at him, “You did this to yourself!”
“Get out.” Not waiting for further argument, he trudged upstairs to his bedroom and closed the door. His hand tightened on the handle and he slammed the door into the frame again and again and again until the wood splintered and the handle came away from the door altogether. He threw the handle to the carpet and lay down.
Closing his eyes he envisioned Helena, looking like a fairy princess, hunting for rosemary. No. He wouldn’t allow this. There was no way he’d give her up. He’d had the briefest taste of freedom on Helena’s lips, and he wanted it all.
Now was not the right time to defy Romely’s curfew and get up to London. But he absolutely would. Find Helena and try to get around the impossibility of his situation. He had to.
Chapter Ten
“I’m so sorry,” she replied, at last typing the prescription. “Three times a day and keep the drops in the fridge. The infection should go in a few days but stick to glasses for a week until the treatment is complete. Okay?”
“You seem a million miles away.”
I kind of am. “I’m fine—just thinking of having a take-away for dinner.”
The patient looked put out. “Well, thank you.”
As the patient closed the door, Helena dropped her head onto her hands. What was wrong with her? She knew the answer to that—it was all tied up with that scruffy, blond-haired musician. Good God, somewhere, Josh was laughing his head off and claiming it served her right.
With her body still tingling from Auden’s touch, she had walked into her sister’s room at the hotel and walked straight back out again. Ophelia was far too distracted with the ‘posh wanker’ Cameron to notice Helena’s manic pretend joy.
She feigned sleep on the train back while Cameron spent the journey trying to convince Ophelia they could have a relationship that exceeded arguing and “banging.”
Once Helena reached home, she burst into tears and hated herself for wasting them on a man she barely knew. She didn’t cry. Ever! Having sex with him had been a pretty big leap in the book of someone who had no real concept of promiscuity. Oh God, in public. Like a tramp. Again.
Sleeping next to him had been little short of a miracle, and that was where the obsession came from. She’d been at peace enough to fall asleep twice with him. It contradicted the idea that he was a cheating slut.
He deserved the slap. Actually, he deserved worse. No, if he really didn’t have a girlfriend, then he’d be a eunuch and that would be no fun for either of them. She pulled out a pen and paper and started a list, in the hope it would allow her to put things into perspective.
Things about Auden I’m unnaturally obsessed with:
1. He probably has the most beautiful penis on earth.
2. His abs.
3. His hair.
4. His eyes. The world is so much clearer when I look away from them.
5. His tongue.
6. How he can raise each eyebrow independently of the other.
7. His voice—spoken and singing.
8. How normal he seems. Compared to Josh anyway.
9. His self-control—with me.
10. His mouth.
11. How he smiles.
12. How smart he is. No one understands the Israel/Palestine conflict and their origins like he does. I don’t even know how we got on the topic but it was amazing to talk about it. It was like being back at university.
13. How creative he is. He composes music.
14. He is super self-sufficient.
15. I can sleep when I’m with him. Really sleep.
16. He understands me.
17. Whether he could love me or not. Yes it’s been two days but I’m mostly there. Why can’t he be?
18. Why did he sleep with me if he has a girlfriend? A pretty weird one at that. This is linked with 17. Endless circle of destruction.
19. Why he didn’t try to stop me from leaving.
20. If he would let me redesign the reception rooms for him. Or at least alphabetise those vinyls.
Maybe it was the shame of being caught half-naked mid-orgasm. Or that she really didn’t know Auden to have a proper hissy fit. She kept having daydreams were she’d throw her neck around, demanding a real explanation. More it was that she missed him. Really missed him. She’d known him for two lousy days and she missed him. Moreover, it was bliss to be able to sleep. Shame to say it, but she felt safe with him in a way she never had before. Sorry, Dad. How else had she slept so well and through the night if she hadn’t?
She had his number. She could call him and see what the dillyo. No Helena, take back a little self-respect. Leave him alone. There is your sign that you should not play with boys. You are bad with relationships. Bad. Bad. Terrible. It had to be some sort of record. Being dumped by one’s boyfriend only to then get caught having sex with another woman’s man within days. Was there a Guinness World Record for that? World’s Dumbest Decisions?
A glance at the time told her she could go home, there were no more patients to be seen. She switched off the desk light and computer, and tugged on her coat. A take-away would be a great idea and she could stay up till all hours of the night by herself. Again.
Coming out of her room to the reception, her stomach jumped.
Slouched in a plastic seat that was straining under his weight, a dark grey hoodie over his head, was Auden. He got up when he saw her, lifting the hood from his hair. Not looking at all like the devil, he looked like an angel desperately sorry to be before the wrath of God.
“What are you doing here?” she asked on a whisper.
“Came to see you.”
“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” she asked with a sneer that wasn’t even her, but hell, she was angry.
He looked strained. The effort he was putting into trying to speak reminded Helena of a seminar on stammers. What was so traumatising about having a girlfriend? He took a deep breath and said, “Look me up.”
“What difference will that make?”
“All the difference in the world.”
Helena turned back to the room and shrugged off her coat. “I don’t know why I’m giving you the time of day.”
“Because you know this whole situation doesn’t feel right,” he said, following her. “If you caught your boyfriend with his hands inside the jeans of another woman, would you be offering said woman a lift to the station?”
“A civilised human being would.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said with an assurance that would only come from his confidence in her. “You’d throw a fucking fit, Hells. And you’d expect your boyfriend to either start apologising, making excuses or at least giving some sort of explanation.”
“You had a chance, why didn’t you?”
“I can’t.” His voice was low and hurt.
“Really?”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Hells, look me up. Go on Google. Find me. You’ll understand.”
“This is ridiculous,” Helena said with a huff, as she switched her computer back on. “What on earth am I going to find?”
“Type in Auden Garceau and music.”
Why did that surname ring bells? She typed in the name and a whole list of links and images flashed up. Singer/songwriter in overdose shame. Trustees take over fortune of legend’s son. The quiet recovery of talented songwriter Auden Garceau.
Helena didn’t follow gossip magazines or trends, except her love for McQueen but that was it. So he was the son of some ancient rock star. Who cared? That would account for his blatant disrespect for women. As much as she wanted to read the articles in detail, it didn’t really resolve the current problem.
“Try Auden Garceau and girlfriend.”
“But—”
“Try it,” he insisted.
She did so, and images and photos emerged of Auden with models, presenters, actresses and, to Helena’s endless surprise, a photo of them at the retreat, laughing together at the bar.
“Do you see any pictures of that woman who came to my house?”
“No,” she said, confused. Scrolling through the pages of photographs of Auden, there wasn’t a single one with that brunette.
“There’s a picture of you.”
“Isn’t it the first time you’ve been out in—” She halted. Easy enough for there to be a picture of her with him from a single meeting, why wouldn’t there be any of him with his so-called girlfriend, who had been with him for years? “This doesn’t make any sense. What’s her name?”
“Dr. Romely Deans,” he answered.
Frowning, Helena typed in her name on the NHS website, searching her out. “She’s your GP and she’s claiming to have a sexual relationship with you? Why can’t you re
port her?”
He lifted his shoulders. “I’m a guy with addiction problems, who’s spent years in and out of therapy. She’s an upstanding citizen. Who are they going to believe?”
“Me,” Helena said firmly. “They’ll believe my dad too. Where’s your family in all this?”
“They can’t have anything to do with it,” he said, his hair falling into his face as he looked down at his trainered feet. “Goes with the territory.”
“Auden, what’s going on?” she asked, concern shaking her voice.
“I wish you hadn’t left,” he murmured, his mouth brushing over her forehead. He pulled back and cupped her face. “Come back to Kent with me and I’ll try to explain as much as I can.”
“I have a job! I can’t just pick up and leave.”
Auden leaned over and turned off her computer. He tucked her into her coat, and took her hand, leading her back into the reception area, tapping the glass for attention. “Dr. Sarpong just had some really bad news. She won’t be in tomorrow.”
Jenny took in Helena’s facial expression at a single glance. “I’ll…er…I’ll rearrange your appointments for you.”
Auden gave Jenny an apologetic smile before he half carried Helena out of the surgery.
“How’d you find me anyway?”
“You’re a doctor,” he replied as if she was a little bit thick. “You’re supposed to be easy to find.” He glanced up at the sky, looking nervous.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said abruptly, cuddling her closer. “Just need to get back quick.”
“Why?”
He sighed again. “It’s fucking embarrassing, but I’ve got a curfew.”
Of course he does, he’s your dad’s client. “Fast trains go from Kings Cross. We can get there by six. Will that work?”
“That will be awesome.”
She clutched his hand and they hurried across to catch the next bus to Kings Cross Station. Helena’s eyes kept connecting with his. All she really wanted to know was what prompted him to come running after her.
