by C. A Ellis
“What’s ready?” I ask, never one to give up. Luke looks at me confused, so I continue, “The telephone call—you said if something’s ready, you will go over after work.” “Oh, that,” Luke says, “it’s just some contractual paperwork we’re waiting on. It’s over near Epping Forest somewhere, so I’ll go and get it from the client tonight. I’m far too busy today to do it. Do you want some boiled eggs?” There he goes again, changing the subject. I decide to let it go this time; he’s given me a reasonable explanation, and I have no reason to doubt him.
“Boiled eggs would be great,” I reply as I sit at the breakfast bar. Five minutes later, I’ve got my boiled eggs and soldiers. Luke always cuts my toast up into soldiers and I like it; it reminds me of my childhood, before my mum and dad were taken from me. Why do I always do that? Why do I have to turn a lovely childhood memory into my despair? Luke sees the sadness that’s clearly showing on my face. “Everything okay, Angel?” he enquires as he places a penny in my hand.
I look down into the palm of my hand and smile at him. “Everything’s great,” I say, looking at him cheekily as I dip my soldier into my egg and bite a chunk off. Looks like we’ve both got our secrets this morning, I think to myself. Luke’s voice brings me out of my thoughts. “I’m taking the Bentley to work this morning, so if you want a lift, you’d better get a move on.” I nod, finish my breakfast and run past him so I can grab a quick shower before we leave. He smacks my bottom as I run past, and I giggle like a schoolgirl before dashing up the stairs. I appear downstairs thirty minutes later, ready for my day. Luke’s already in the car waiting, so I grab my bag and rush out the door.
I’ve barely got my seatbelt on before we’ve pulled out on our way to work. It’s handy for us living so close to work. As Luke pulls up outside my office, I lean over to kiss him goodbye, just going in for a quick peck since Luke seems to be in such a rush this morning. My eyes widen as Luke deepens our kiss instead, and I begin to relax into it. Eventually, we pull apart and Luke asks, “I’ve got to go and pick up these contracts and bits tonight, so do you want me to get Daniel to pick you up from work?”
“No, don’t worry. I’ll grab a taxi,” I reply.
“Are you sure, Angel?” he asks, concerned.
“Yes,” I reassure him, “now get off to work, my beautiful man.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. I only call Luke my beautiful man in my head; I’ve never told him, let alone called him it out loud. He looks back down at me, a boyish grin all over his face.
“Is that what you call me?” he asks. I can only nod; I am so flushed and embarrassed. “Your. Beautiful. Man,” he repeats slowly. “I like it, Angel” he says with a beaming smile.
He kisses my head and I get out of the car, still mortified at my slip-up. I turn to wave as I always do before I enter my building, and Luke’s window is open. “Bye, Angel!” he shouts, and I smile and wave at him. Then, thinking he’s funny, he shouts, “Your beautiful man will try not to be too late tonight!” And with that, he grins, blows me a kiss and pulls out into the London traffic.
I enter my building, and although I’m embarrassed, I can’t help giggling to myself and thinking just how much I do love my silly, beautiful man. When I get to my desk, there is a silver envelope waiting for me. I look at it, wondering what on earth it could be as I slowly open it, peaking in for some clue. I pull out a thick, silver card with an angel embossed on it, and I smile because without even opening it, I immediately know whom it’s from. What does surprise me though is what drops out of it—two flight tickets to Verona in Italy, and two tickets to the open-air opera to see La Traviata, my mum’s favourite opera of all time.
I have been to a couple of operas with George—he adores them—and I must admit, I did fall in love with them. Stories told through expression and with such passion are second to none. I’ve always come out of them quite exhausted with all the emotions running through me. It can stay with you for days, but the one I have always wanted to see is La Traviata, to find out why Mum loved it so much. I put the tickets to the side and open up the card, tears already stinging my eyes at the thoughtfulness of my wonderful boyfriend as I read:
Hey Angel,
Wipe those tears away as this is meant to be a happy surprise.
At this, I smile because he knows me so well and continue reading.
I want to take you away to what I think is one of the most romantic cities in the world, especially as it is the home of Romeo and Juliet. I also want to be the one to take you to the opera of your dreams, and not that stuffy, old George.
I smile again, thinking even though the statement is made in jest, Luke is probably a bit jealous I’ve been to an opera with George and not with him.
Only I should be the one to take you to “La Traviata” in your mother’s memory, which I know you hold so dear to your heart and have always wanted to see.
It will help you to find out a little bit more about the mother you loved so dearly, and who loved you back so unconditionally.
A lady that gave this world and me the greatest gift ever…you! Angel, nothing and no one could love you more than I do, so I hope you love this gift and will make me the happiest man alive by accepting this invitation.
Yours always and forever,
Luke X
Tears are now flowing freely down my cheeks, although I’m half-smiling too. How does he do it? To bring so many emotions together in just a few sentences… I have tears because I do miss my mum and dad, and I so desperately wish they could have met Luke, as I think they would have overlooked the age gap once they saw how much we adore each other, and how well he takes care of me. I know he calls me his Angel, but sometimes I wonder if he is mine.
I am also smiling because I’m excited to have a weekend away in such a romantic city, and to be going to the opera. I want to ring him and thank him now. He answers after the first ring, and as he does and upon hearing his voice, all I get out is “Thank you” before the tears start to flow again. Luke chuckles. “It’s meant to be a present, a nice surprise, not make you cry.”
“I know,” I sniffle, “and it is. I love it, and I love you.”
“I love you too, Angel, and this is going to be the best weekend ever,” Luke soothes.
“Okay,” I hiccup, “I’d better go and sort my face out before George sees me and comes to hunt you down to find out what you’ve done to me. I’ll see you tonight, when I can thank you properly without embarrassing myself. Hopefully I will have calmed down by then.” I try to laugh.
“Okay, Angel, I’m glad you like it. I’m in back-to-back meetings today, so I might not be able to speak to you until tonight, but I’ll call you when I am on my way home from the Epping client.”
“All right, see you later, my beautiful man,” I say with a smile.
“Bye, my Angel.” And with that, he’s gone.
I venture off to the ladies room with my make-up bag, and when I see myself in the mirror I laugh. Swollen, puffy, red eyes and a snotty nose—very attractive, I think as I set about sorting my face out and bringing it back to some amount of normality. I can’t wait until this weekend now, and I can’t wait to go home and see Luke tonight; I really miss him when I’m at work.
Uh oh, speaking of work, I had better get back to it. All I need is George on my case all day. So with that thought in mind, I go back to my desk looking and feeling a hell of a lot better than when I left it.
I fire off a quick text to Katy, telling her my plans for this weekend, and when I get her reply, I just laugh because all it says is LUCKY BITCH in shouty capitals. I get on with my work, wishing the day away so I can get home, have a nice bubble bath and cook a nice dinner for the two of us.
I think I’ll cook a lasagne in honour of our Italian weekend, and also because my lasagne is one of Luke’s favourites. I want to please him tonight, so with the thought of a nice dinner, followed by an afters I know he’ll enjoy, I decide to knuckle down and do the pile of paperwork I have on my desk before I get
too carried away with my erotic thoughts.
What a long way I have come!
Chapter Ten – Lucas
As I drive away from dropping Lizzy at work, I’ve got the biggest smile on my face. I drive along to my office, and my head is full of thoughts of her. My first thoughts are of her calling me her beautiful man, and that makes my smile wider. The ‘beautiful man’ bit doesn’t affect me; it’s the ‘my’ part that precedes it I like. The fact she thinks of me as hers is proof of how far we’ve come and how much trust she now has in me. I have never had any doubt in my mind that she is mine, and I will most definitely be eternally hers.
That thought leads me into thinking about how much I love her, and how I would do anything for her. I naively thought I had everything before Lizzy, I now realise I’d had nothing. I suppose there was always a nagging deep down in the pit of my stomach that something was missing from my life, and now I know my existance would be meaningless without this special lady in it.
My last thought is that I have just told my first lie to Lizzy, and even though it’s for her benefit, I hate myself for it. I mean, yes, I have to go over to Epping Forest after work tonight, but it’s not to see a client or pick up any documents. I am, in fact, going to see a friend of mine who designs and makes jewellery. After making a killing in Hatton Garden, Michael Dean now has high-end clients all over the world fighting for his one-off designs, which he can charge thousands for. We have been meeting up at my offices to get the right engagement ring designed for Lizzy. We finally decided on a platinum band with a high, platinum mount, and held within the three claws is the most amazing teardrop diamond I have ever seen.
It is beautiful, just like her, and the teardrop shape is a symbol of the last tear she will ever shed, because with this ring, as well as my promise of marriage, it symbolises the endless devotion and lifetime of happiness I will give to her. I know people will criticise that it’s too soon, but I have no doubt in my mind I want to marry and spend the rest of my life with Lizzy, and I am pretty sure she will feel the same way. So tonight, I will go and pick up the finished ring. Suddenly, I don’t feel so bad about my little white lie, because it’s going to lead to one of the most special days of our lives, starting when I propose to Lizzy in Verona this weekend.
At that thought, my phone rings and it’s her, thanking me for the gift. I can tell she’s been crying, and it makes my heart constrict to think I could ever upset her. I pacify myself knowing they’re tears of joy for the sentiment of the card I wrote, and for the tickets to Verona and the opera I’ve given her. As I bid my Angel farewell until tonight, I pull into the car park of my office building. I sigh as I get out because I have got a manic day of meetings, but then I smile at the thought of picking up that ring tonight, and the fact that Lizzy and I will be starting a whole new chapter.
Hopefully, she will be my fiancée as of this coming Saturday night. We won’t rush our wedding, as I want her to have the most perfect wedding day—one that she will have dreamt about since she was a child. I pray one day we will be lucky enough to have children of our own too. This thought stops me in my tracks; I have never ever thought of having children before—I always thought I was far too selfish.
See, this is what Lizzy has done for me; she has made me see that I can care for someone else other than myself. Unfortunately, she doesn’t realise it, but Lizzy Maynard is one amazing woman—a woman who will someday in the near future be Mrs. Elizabeth Castle—and this brings the last smile to my face before I enter my office and am swept up in a hurricane of meetings and paperwork.
I walk out of work exhausted and a lot later than I wanted to leave, seeing as though I have to head over to Essex, when all I really want to do after the day I’ve had is walk through my front door and into Lizzy’s arms. As I sit in my Bentley, I lean back, close my eyes and rub my hands over my tired face. I exhale a large breath as I put my baby into drive and pull out of the car park, vowing to stop at the nearest drive-through coffee shop for an espresso to liven me up.
The drive over to Essex isn’t half as bad as I thought it would be, and with all the calls I’ve made and taken via my hands-free, it actually went quite quickly. I always have a multitude of calls to make after work, so getting them out of the way during my drive is a bonus. All the calls are complete by the time I pull off of the M11, which is good because once you get into Epping Forest, the reception is often a bit hit and miss.
I relax into my last leg of the drive and listen to some music to chill me out; I immediately start thinking of my Angel, and how I just can’t wait to finally get home to her tonight so I can relax. I’m only ever truly relaxed when I’m with her. I chuckle to myself at how obsessed with Lizzy I sound, and shrug my shoulders in defeat. Who am I kidding? She is my obsession.
As I pull through his metal gates, Michael is waiting for me.
“Nice wheels,” he says, admiring my baby.
“Thank you, but please stop eye-fucking my car like that,” I say, laughing as I walk up and embrace him in a macho man hug, pounding each other’s backs. Michael puts his arm around my shoulder as he pulls me into his home. “Would you like a drink, Lucas? I’ve got a right decent bottle of scotch just waiting to be shared with someone that would appreciate it,” he says smiling. “I’m taking Amber out for dinner, but we’ve got time for one,” he continues.
I pass on the offer. “No, I’m good, thanks. Plus, you know I’ve never been one for drinking and driving, so maybe another time.”
Michael shrugs, and then goes off to retrieve the ring from his safe as I have a look around his lounge. I’m getting really excited to have the ring in my hands and admire the finished article. I had transferred half the money to Michael already, and the rest is due on completion, so I will make the call while I’m here—that is, if the ring is up to my high standards. This ring has to be on Lizzy’s hand for the rest of her life, and although nothing will ever shine as brightly or be as beautiful as her, it has to be something special. I sense someone behind me, and as I turn around, Michael is standing there with a velvet ring box facing me, and smiling, he opens it.
I look inside and actually gasp, and that’s when all the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand to attention. My mouth is still agape as I look up at Michael, who says, “I take it by that look on your face it’s to your liking, Lucas.”
“Michael, what can I say? It’s absolutely fucking amazing.” And it truly is. It is beautiful, stunning and classy—everything my angel deserves. I make the call to transfer the rest of Michael’s money, still relatively in shock. I can’t believe my reaction to Lizzy’s engagement ring. I’m no sap, but it is just perfect for her—simple but gorgeous, and I know she will love it.
I also think this whole situation has gotten to me. I’m a step closer to having the only woman I’ve ever wanted in my life forever. I’m not in the least bit scared or unsure, because that’s exactly where I want her. I bid farewell to Michael as I thank him over and over, promising him I’ll let him know how the proposal goes, and probably over that bottle of scotch. I place the bag with the ring in it on the passenger seat, almost wanting to use the seatbelt to strap it in; as it’s so precious to me. Instead I strap myself in and pull out of Michael’s house, and I drive along the country lanes through Epping Forest.
I try my luck and attempt to call Lizzy to let her know that I am on my way home, but typically, there is no service in this out of town area. The odd intermittent bit of service comes into range, and as I go to make the call, it’s gone again. This is why I live in London, I think to myself. It’s getting dark as I navigate the complicated tight bends in the road, only managing to pick up speed on the straight stretches.
I look over to the passenger seat and smile to myself as I think of how this small box is going to change and shape our future together forever. I check the road and then look back at the ring, chuckling to myself over how I have changed for the better, and how it is all because of one woman.
I s
mile as I think, so there is such a thing as ‘The One’.
As I glance back up at the road, a car appears as if out of nowhere. Epping is renowned for the boy-racers careering around the bends in their pimped-out cars, but this one is fast. It’s too fast and out of control on a bend, and on my side of the road. Instinct makes me turn the wheel to avoid him, but I still hit him as he skids to a halt. I can hear the rubber of his tyres on the road—that awful noise of losing complete control.
After I hit his car, mine flips, and I’m vaguely aware of what’s happening, but I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, because this can’t be happening to me, surely. All I can hear is the crashing and creaking of metal as my baby bounces off the road and turns over, smashing its roof, then smashing its wheels and then finally smashing down on its side as it ploughs into a tree. I hear shouting as it is happening, then I realise it is me shouting for my life. The Bentley finally stops after it hits the tree, but that’s when the most chilling noise is apparent…and that noise is a deafening silence.
It is an eerie silence, only associated with tragedy and death. I lay in the mangled wreckage, unable to move due to limbs being in angles and positions that aren’t natural for a body to be in. Smashed glass is everywhere; blood is everywhere—my blood, and I can taste it too. Car metal and my body are as one, and I know just how bad this is and ultimately the likelihood is I’m not going to survive this.
It is very weird, the thoughts that are travelling through my head at a time like this—my last thoughts. I notice the ring isn’t on the seat next to me anymore and it upsets and saddens me. I can also hear my mobile phone ringing, and I think it’s funny there’s phone reception here in this awful, tragic situation. Then I think of Lizzy, and how badly this will affect her, how distraught she will be at losing me. I am going to do the one thing I’d promised her faithfully I’d never do, and that is hurt her. I thought we’d be together forever. I can’t believe I’m going to lose her, and like this. I don’t want to leave her. She won’t survive this; losing her mum and dad in their tragic circumstance nearly tore her apart. Losing me, the love of her life, her beautiful man? No, she would never, ever recover from this, and it’s entirely my fault.
