Getting a Life (New City Series Book 4)

by Stefanie Simpson

  “Are you here alone?” he shouted into her ear. He smelt so good. A bit like Arthur. She really couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know many people here, and I’m trying to get over someone.” Saying someone was better than saying something. She started to spin.

  “He got a name?” He gave her a pert glance.

  She thought of Arthur’s face and wanted to go home. She wanted Arthur.

  “You okay?” he asked gently with a hand on her shoulder.

  Rebecca shook her head and apologised. She staggered a little as she went to the ladies, leant against the wall and caught her breath.

  Pulling out her phone, dialled.

  Arthur shouted down the line, but she barely heard him. She hung up, received a text, replied with where she was, and the words I need you. The inevitable feeling about the two of them returned. She went back out and saw him scanning the room.

  She didn’t want this moment to be her crying into his chest, needing pity from him; this was about sex and taking what she wanted. She smiled as his eyes locked with hers and approached.

  Rebecca pulled him by the shirt, and he followed her onto the dancefloor. She danced around him, but he barely moved. Her hands went to his chest, and he closed his eyes.

  She moved her hips in little circles to the beat as he put his hands on them and moved with her. Turning her back to him, she reached up with her arms, put them around his neck, and pulled him down and turned her face back to his. Their lips were close, and the energy built.

  Arthur turned her, hands in her hair, and kissed her with want. Hard lips, yet soft to her, his tongue hot and greedy. Pulling away, she looked at him and nodded. He took her hand and pulled her behind him.

  He drove in silence, and she glanced at him the whole time. She tottered into the house when they finally arrived. He deactivated the alarm and put on the hall light, making her blink at the brightness.

  She didn’t take much of the house in as her vision spun when kicking her shoes off but made a little sound of relief as she wiggled her toes. Arthur stood close and undid her hair. It lay messily as it fell. Holding close, he picked her up in his arms, and she laughed holding onto him. His smell, the feel of him close against her excited and relaxed her all at once.

  They kissed furiously as he fumbled upstairs, clinging tightly. Tearing at his shirt, the need to have it over with was too much. He set her back as he unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the stretchy fabric of her dress down her shoulders, leaning forward and kissing the skin there.

  He lay them down, his body over hers, and erection pressing in. The room spun faster. She felt sick.

  “Wait.” Her words slurred, and he paused.

  “Are you all right? Too fast?”

  “I need to sit up.”

  He knelt back, and she followed, swaying. She steadied herself. He watched her slow blink.

  “You’re drunk.” He frowned.

  “It’s the only way.”

  The blood drained from his face, and his hard-on visibly faded from his crotch. Rebecca stumbled off the bed, and nearly fell, jostling the bedside table as she did.

  Her dress was pulled down and her bra exposed with smeared lipstick on her mouth. She struggled to right herself as he stared at her with revulsion.

  He stood and put her dress right.

  “What’s up? I’m okay.” She held onto his arms.

  “You’re drunk. We can’t do this, look at the state of you.”

  She blinked and straightened her back at his angry tone, and then the words sunk in, the room keeling at an angle.

  Feeling ashamed, she nodded and tried to walk with a little dignity from the room.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” Her voice was flat.

  He buttoned his shirt back up.

  “Don’t. You’re not taking me.” She focused anywhere but him.

  “You can’t walk.”

  She slipped on her shoes when she made it downstairs. “It’s fine.” She picked up her little disco purse with her money, key, lippy and phone in up off the floor, and went out. The night air woke her up, making her feel worse, not that she’d admit it.

  “Please don’t go like this.” He caught her arm. She recoiled, and he let her go.

  Stumbling a little, swearing, she took her shoes off and made down the drive. He followed, making her break into a weaving run to the main road. All the time he was a few paces behind her.

  He caught her again but didn’t let go. “Please, let me at least take you home.”

  “No.” She reeled. “Please leave me be, oh god please.” Her voice was desperate, and he slowly stepped away. She turned, and not looking at him once, she fled.

  She made it to a busy road, two taxis didn’t stop, but the third did. She clambered in, and the driver looked twice at her.

  “All right love?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t know her own voice and didn’t cry but sat in shock. She wondered what she had done wrong, and thought he wanted her, wasn’t that what he wanted? To be with her.

  She didn’t understand. When she saw herself in the mirror of her bathroom after washing her face once home, she understood; she was disgusting. Drunk and dishevelled, she rubbed hard against her lips removing what remained of her lipstick. No better than her stepmother.

  She’d thrown herself at him like a drunken lush. She took a deep breath. How did she get everything so wrong all the time?

  The night kept replaying from start to finish, and the room tilted, until exhausted she fell asleep.

  Arthur watched Rebecca go in shock. He stood on the pavement and waited until she was in a taxi before sluggishly walking back. His feet dragged behind him, and he swallowed his… what did he feel? Anger? Disappointment? No, shame. He was ashamed.

  What he’d nearly done hit with a wallop. She was drunk. How had he not seen it, but he knew why; he was so horny and wanted her so much, he hadn’t noticed or cared. He wanted to take her right then in the hall. Her wide eyes looking up at him in innocence and trust. And she was a virgin, he’d have to be careful with her, and yet, he’d nearly lost control of himself.

  Arthur took a few deep breaths, hands on his knees after shutting his front door.

  He felt sick. What kind of monster was he? To do that to such a sweet person? He sat on the floor, staring off into the distance, lost in thought.

  Arthur didn’t know how to feel, part of him was numb, and a good chunk was angry. His mind kept returning to the moment when he realised she was drunk, and not fully in control. He wouldn’t think of the time before that, when all he wanted was her, finally.

  When he thought about it, he should have realised, she was too keen, too sexual, she was a virgin and afraid of sex, and wasn’t being herself.

  The next day, he went to the gym, pounded the treadmill, and as sweat poured off him, he let it all sink in.

  Clutching his middle, he walked the last mile, and the pain of what he’d nearly done overwhelmed his mind. That she thought it was her fault made it worse. He was falling in love with her, and realised it that night, but feared he’d never really get over what he’d done.

  He sat in his car, keys in the ignition when he left, yet he couldn’t move. He sighed and looked out of the window. He recognised the little red car on the other side of the car park.

  A woman walked out to it, in a short white dress, sports bag in hand. Her hair was perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

  When he first met Victoria, he was five. She was Maddie’s best friend, and they were holding hands skipping in the garden. Maddie took one hand, and Victoria took the other. They sang and went around in a circle. He didn’t care that they were girls because he was in love. She was there for him all through his dad’s illness and the grief that followed, and it cemented the bond between them.

  As he opened his eyes, Vicky wa
s walking towards him. He tensed.

  She got in his car. “I’ve been watching you for five minutes.”

  “What do you want?” He hadn’t meant to be sharp.

  “You.”

  He started the car and reversed. The word and her tone crossed a line in him, all his frustration bubbled over.

  “What are you doing?” Her face flushed in shock. He didn’t speak and sped all the way to his.

  He slammed the car door, and opening hers, pulled her out, rushing inside.

  He watched her swallow as they stood in the hall. His tone was hateful, and he was rigid and angry.

  “Me? You want me? Do you have any idea how much I dislike you? Once, yes, I loved you once, but you,” he pointed, “didn’t, and if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t now. You want position, money, and status. You want the designer children that go with your fucking designer handbags. Social climbing,” he sneered. “You and Maddie are as bad as each other.” He looked her up and down. “I would have done anything to make you happy, and I had no doubts that I would succeed, all I needed was a little time. So, I’m supposed to what? Be grateful?”

  Tears stood in her eyes.

  “What is it exactly do you want from me?”

  She jumped at the volume of his voice. “Anything you’ll give me. I don’t care.”

  “That’s pathetic.”

  “I know, but I can’t help it. What’s happened?”

  “I fucked up. I hurt a person I care about.”

  “The girl? What did you do?”

  Arthur only shook his head. She cautiously stepped towards him like he was a wild animal. “Let me make you feel better.”

  He looked into her eyes and sneered. “You want to fuck?”

  She winced at his tone.

  He grabbed her and held her roughly. “Is that what you want?”

  Arthur could do that, fuck her, hurt her, and take out his anger and frustration on her. He let her go, the thought revolted him, and his anger fled. That wasn’t him, and he’d never do it. He leant over, bracing his hands on his knees.

  Victoria shook as he cried. She knelt and took his face in her hands. “If that’s what you need. I love you.”

  “No. I can’t, all I can think about is her, and what I’ve done.”

  “What have you done?”

  “I did the one thing I swore not to do when she was drunk and vulnerable, I nearly, we…”

  Her face paled. “Did you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “It’s really complicated, but be assured, it was the one thing I should not have done.”

  “Okay, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here for you, whatever you need.” She held him while he cried.

  Vicky stayed in a guest room. He expected her to join him in the middle of the night, but she didn’t, she stayed away from him. He thought that maybe she really had changed.

  Ten

  WEARISOME STEPS

  Rebecca stayed in her slouchy short pyjamas all of Saturday, citing a hangover, and curled up in front of the telly as they watched an old film.

  “Are you unwell?” Alice asked, setting her knitting down.

  Rebecca looked up at Alice. “A little tired.” The more she thought about what happened with Arthur, the more she thought about Mark. She had really tried to move on, but she was starting to realise she was aiming too high, far too high with Arthur, and that Mark would keep her back no matter what. The damage was done.

  Rebecca never wanted to see Arthur again. Her humiliation overwhelmed her in waves, and every time it hit, she crashed.

  On Monday she looked on her phone trying to find somewhere else to go, forming a plan. Not too far, the idea of being far away from him hurt too much, and she thought she might still visit Alice. She never wanted to be near him but couldn’t bear to leave.

  The other side of the city had been farmland until about twenty years ago but had become a suburb of sorts, and new estates spread along it. There was a flat for rent and had enough saved to afford it. She rang temping agencies and applied for jobs.

  Guilt at doing it secretly needled, yet there was no option.

  Tuesday morning, after she cleaned, she sat at Alice’s bureau and wrote out her resignation. She read it over and once sealed in the envelope, felt a little better. The decision was made, and soon she’d be gone.

  She cooked one of Arthur’s favourite meals, and her head buzzed when he arrived.

  He chatted with Alice for a bit and didn’t say one word to Rebecca. Not one.

  Alice was in the cool afternoon air of the living room when she called him in, still click-clacking away at her knitting, and Rebecca breathed again.

  Arthur was civil at dinner, and Alice went to nap while she cleaned up.

  The silence was thick when they were alone.

  Despite the buzzing in her ears, she spoke, pulling the words up from somewhere. Agitation fuelled her. “I need to speak with you.”

  She didn’t wait for him but opened the back door and went into the garden. He followed. At the bottom of the garden on the bench under a tree, Rebecca sat.

  She took a deep breath when he joined her. The envelope in her hands creased slightly, and she tried to smooth it out.

  “What’s that?”

  She passed it to him.

  “You’re leaving.” He turned it over in his hands.

  “I don’t have much choice.”

  “Please don’t, mum will be devastated.”

  Tears hovered in her eyes with no emotion. “Mark is out of prison. It’s made me think about a lot of things.”

  Arthur’s mouth turned down, and he squinted into the blue sky.

  “I never knew my mother. Dad told me she left us and didn’t want me. I always wondered if that was why my life was so difficult. When Tracy moved in, it was better in the beginning, like she was making an effort, but they made each other worse and spiralled. David, my father, became her pimp in exchange for drugs. That was my life. Shame and degradation is hard to wash off.” She shook her head making the tears fall and licked at the salty water that hovered on her lips. “I’d feel Mark watching me, and even then, I knew what he wanted. I felt wrong and soiled by being there. Mark framed me as the thing he wanted, and my wanting that or not made no difference. It was such a toxic place to be, you could feel the tension all the time.

  “He’s three years older than me, and he expected me to be his girlfriend. He’d stand behind me if I were in the kitchen and put his hand around my waist and laugh when I’d hit him and run away. When I got a Saturday job, he come into the shop all the time or follow me to school. He had this tattoo on his neck with my name on it. I was his property. He’d tell me that all the time. I was going to ‘work’ for him, but I’d always be his girlfriend. He tormented me all the time.

  “He is the full extent of my sexual experience – fear of what might be. I left then and hid out with some friends, and I was finally placed in a children’s home. It was scary but safer than dad’s. I want it to be over with. I’m sorry I did what I did because now you know how repulsive I am.

  “It’s my fault, I tried too hard. Maybe it’s not for me. I should accept that.” Her whole body shook; angry, humiliated, and desperate.

  He didn’t speak at first. “I’m sorry about your family. You are not repulsive, and none of what happened is your fault, it’s mine. I am to blame. I should never have tried to take advantage of you. You must hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you, why would I?”

  He looked baffled. “Because I nearly had sex with you when you were so drunk you didn’t know what you were doing. I couldn’t control myself.” His voice started to break. “I did the one thing I swore not to do, and that was to push you. It was unforgivable of me.”

  “You didn’t take advantage of me, Arthur, I knew what I was doing.”

  “You were slurring, a
nd you said you needed to be drunk, and that’s not what I wanted for us, and you’re leaving me, and something has changed.”

  “Something has changed, but it’s not your fault. Are you saying you want a relationship with me?”

  “No, we can’t have that. You would have regretted it if I hadn’t managed to come to my senses, and you would have hated me.”

  Rebecca mirrored his angry tone, her frustration pouring out. “No, I wouldn’t. You’re talking as though I’m incapable of making a choice, I made my choice, and you rejected me.”

  “I didn’t reject you. I wanted you so much, but for you, it was wrong.”

  “Why do you get to decide that?”

  He took a deep breath. “You’re emotionally in a very vulnerable place. You know that, don’t you? You went out to get drunk, so you could shag a stranger and get over what happened to you. That’s not good decision-making. I was so glad that you called me. The idea of you being with someone else…” His posture changed; he paled, jaw set.

  “That’s not what I set out to do. I wanted you though, only you. It’s why I called.” She tried not to sound pleading.

  “You’re not leaving, not because of me. You permanently have one foot out the door, and I’m not having it. Mum needs you and depends on you, so you’ll stay, deal with this, and get over it.”

  “Like you?”

  “Yes,” he said coldly. “I’ll get over it. I think it’s for the best. I don’t want a repeat of what happened. It’s going to haunt me.”

  She looked down, ashamed. “I’m sorry I’ve done this to you. I don’t think I can stay because I can’t keep seeing you here.”

  “I won’t come as often.”

  “No, your mum loves having you here. I’ll make myself scarce.”

  “Fine.” He tore up the resignation letter and put it in his pocket. She sat there for a while until he left, unable to move. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to hold the emotion back, and the hurt would be too painful.

  Arthur came for dinner on Friday, with Victoria in tow. Rebecca had made herself adjust to the new reality; whatever they had was gone, but when she saw Victoria, she felt bile at the back of her throat.