“Okay, then what?”
“Then you find a secluded hiding place and talk this out properly, while I ditch her and prowl for men because that would be nice.”
She laughed. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
She turned around. The rain had stopped, and the air was damp and earthy.
Joe took her arm, and inside their targets had vanished. Scouring the foyer and small bar, they found the roof terrace was open and went up. Peeking over the floor halfway up the steps, Joe scouted. “Got them.”
He pulled her along, and they marched over. The view of the farmland beyond rolled away, the heavy rain cloud pushing out to the horizon. Vicky was laughing, clinging onto Arthur as he stared at nothing.
“We were looking for you.” Joe beamed at them.
Vicky’s smile vanished. There were only a few people up there, and she didn’t have to pretend to be decent. “What?”
Rebecca straightened her back. “Arthur. May we talk?”
“You need to leave him alone. Stop messing with his head, can’t you see what you’re doing?”
Joe stepped in front of Rebecca, hands in pockets. “I remember that time when you beat up Katie Simon because she called you out for being the nasty hate trash you are. You’d bullied that girl because she had a second-hand uniform. I remember how you made that girl’s life a nightmare.
“Bullies are bullies, makes no difference to me what gender or class or what-the-fuck-ever you are. You’re mean and cruel. You always have been. Step back.”
Rebecca quietly took Arthur’s arm and heard Joe behind her.
“What you’re thinking of doing, don’t. Walk away from the damage you’ll do.”
His voice trailed off, and Arthur merely followed.
Rebecca looked back to the crowd with the party in full swing. She took Arthur’s hand and led him away. They passed the end of the patio and along the gravel at the back where a few servers were smoking. They left them behind and went down the quiet river path, the sky was clear, only a few clouds passing over, but the rain left the air fresh.
She threaded her arm through his as they slowed their pace.
“What are we doing?”
“Walking.” She smiled up at him.
“You look happy.”
“Happy? I’m trying. Joe has been a good friend, and I’m moving forward. I’ve been trying to make peace with myself if that makes sense. One thing isn’t right, though. That would be you, by the way. You should know that Joe is not my boyfriend. It’s easier for him to have a woman on his arm for certain things, and to have a friend. He’s going through something, and it’s not my place to talk about it. But there has not been, is not, and will never be anything between us, other than a shoulder to cry on and someone to bitch with over wine.
“Also, I cannot believe you think that you assaulted me. Arthur, look at me.”
He turned and gazed down at her, and her stomach dipped.
“If you said kiss me right now, I would. I have never stopped caring about you. I miss you so much. I respect you. I adore you.”
He shook his head, confused. “What I did…”
She held his hands, squeezing them as she spoke. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing happened. There was nothing that happened that I did not want until you said you didn’t want me.”
“Rebecca.” He stepped away from her. “You know I’m with Victoria.”
“Are you? Are you happy? Do you want to be with her?”
He looked confused. “It’s complicated.”
“So are we, but it doesn’t have to be.”
He struggled for a few moments. He kissed her forehead and held her. “I love you.” The whispered words made her smile and squeeze him; no one had ever said those words to her. “But I can’t. We met at the wrong time for you, and this is the wrong time for me. You’re right about Victoria. I have to cut her out of my life. We’re together, but we’re not really. I can’t touch her. I need to sort my head out.”
She nodded. It wasn’t a no, it was not yet.
“Then do what you need to, just as I did. Get help, go on holiday, do something you’ve always wanted to, I’ll wait. I love you too.” She smiled, reached up, and gave him a gentle kiss. He wouldn’t let her go.
“Kiss me,” he murmured into her lips.
She did, and he made a little noise as he gathered her up, kissing her deeply. Relief filled her, and he relaxed as he set her down finally, foreheads touching.
“We’ll do this right,” he said with a nod.
“Only when you’re ready.”
Arthur stood with Rebecca and Joe, propping up the bar. She loved him. He tasted his lips before drinking the single malt in his hand. “Where did Vicky go?”
Joe sipped his drink before answering. “She left.”
“Really?” Rebecca frowned.
“You do not want to know what she said.” Joe gave them both an apologetic nod.
Arthur half-crossed his arms, resting his glass against his chin. “Oh, I do.”
“Slut and man stealer were involved.”
“She didn’t.” Arthur put his drink down. Though, he knew it was probably true. Being near Rebecca again felt like a warm memory. Vicky always made him feel disconnected, and he knew she was toxic for him. Holding Rebecca, the kiss, the sound of her voice melted away the sick tension that ate his sleep and well-being.
“This is the dullest one of these I’ve ever been to.” Joe sighed. “I know, we should ditch this place and go dancing.”
“Dressed like this?” Rebecca beamed.
Arthur watched the play between them, they were close, but something was missing.
“Come on, Rebecca.” He said her name long and low, and she rolled her eyes.
“What do you want to do, Arthur?”
“Get out of here, to be honest.” He’d had enough.
She took his hand, and Joe’s, and pulled them along. “Look at me with two hot guys.”
A middle-aged woman tutted, Joe laughed, and Arthur wanted to crawl up his own arse. He had never seen Rebecca so carefree. He liked it and wanted to be the same and remembered their water fight in the garden. The need to get back to that place bloomed.
A taxi arrived, and they went into town.
“Let’s go to Wards.” Joe beamed.
Rebecca scrunched her face up. “Ugh, no, too many annoying boys.”
“That was my point.” Joe winked.
Arthur frowned. “Am I missing something?”
“I’m not straight, not a man either, Non-binary actually. Kinda into men at the minute, not that I can seem to find one. You didn’t tell him?”
“You’re not out. Not my place.”
He grinned. Arthur had no idea, and a tiny flicker of hope kindled. “I’m glad you’re finding out who you are, are you using he or?”
“Still he for now. Honestly, I’m still figuring this shit out. Where are we going?”
“Passion House? I’ve never been.” Rebecca beamed.
“No,” Joe and Arthur said at the same time.
“That’s not the place for an innocent like yourself.” Joe gave her a pointed look.
“Why?”
“I went once, and believe me, it’s not for you.” He patted her hand.
“I have to go now.” She bounced on the seat, making Arthur smile.
“Tell her Art, come on, do you want to go in there? It’s not my scene.”
“Yeah, I’m not into that.”
“What?” Rebecca asked.
“Bondage and orgies.”
“Get out.” She laughed.
“No, it’s true,” Arthur said, unable to face her.
“Okay then, let’s go to Volts. Loads of cheese for dancing.” Rebecca clapped her hands.
The club was packed when they went in, and everyone looked sideways at them, and as Arthur undid his bowtie, Rebecca stared at his neck.
Arthur we
nt for the drinks, and she and Joe found a spot.
Rebecca sipped her drink when she took it from him and glancing up she looked sweet. The moment strung out in the loud, dark club, but she looked away to the dancers and shimmied her shoulders to the beat.
She finished her drink in one go when the music changed to an outrageous song. Arthur had never heard it, but when he heard the words, his eyes went wide, and he watched her dance to the most overtly sexual tune he’d heard.
She tried to pull the guys onto the dancefloor with her, but they firmly refused, feeling far too self-conscious in their tuxedos. She shrugged, ditched her clutch, and went to the dancefloor.
Rebecca let go and looked free. She bunched her fingers into her hair, unravelling it from her updo, leaving it in messy curls.
Arthur watched, she was so different, he’d seen her dance before, but she looked happy, and it was beautiful.
Joe patted him on the shoulder. “We should help her out.” He grinned and nodded back at Rebecca, someone was dancing close to her and getting closer every moment.
Arthur couldn’t do it. Not yet. It pained him.
“It’s okay, I’ll go, but, so we’re clear, I’m not interested in her like that, at all.” Joe spread his hands and shimmied off to the dancefloor.
Arthur smiled but only watched. She threw her arms around Joe, and he twirled her around. They moved in unison, and the other guy danced away.
He wanted to go to her, but the moment he did, he’d lose control, he knew it. Even though she said she had been willing, she was drunk, and had taken advantage of that, hadn’t he?
Unsure, he sighed.
She looked over at him, her eyes were shining, beautiful and happy, and he took a deep breath, not taking his eye off her, finished his beer, picked up her clutch, and joined them.
She danced between the two of them, they drank, they laughed, and the whole time, he suppressed the overwhelming want of her.
Close to two, they piled into a taxi, dropped Joe off on the way to Nattleton, and pulled up in front of Alice’s home.
“Why don’t you stay? I’m not that tired, and we haven’t really talked that much.”
He was so tempted; to talk, maybe kiss a little, snuggle down with her. He shut down the thought, pushing it away. “I should go home.”
“Okay.” She smiled and hugged him tight as the taxi waited for her to get out. “Come over, call or text me whenever you want. I mean it.”
She pressed a brief kiss to his lips before she got out.
Rebecca, excited on Sunday morning, odd considering how much she’d drank, was looking forward to seeing Arthur.
They had to talk, sober, and impartially.
The smell of roast beef filled the house as Rebecca cooked.
“So?” Alice asked.
“It’s going to be all right, we talked. He’s fragile, but it’s okay.” She nodded with a little smile and hummed along to the radio.
“The thing about Arthur,” Alice said with a frown, putting down her magazine and magnifying glass, “is that he’s very sensitive. Always was, but he hides it very well. Stoic and does the right thing. He can be a little caustic occasionally, as you know, but is hurt very easily.”
Rebecca understood and wanted to love and reassure him. She had hope.
They moved outside as the day warmed with summer back in full swing.
Rebecca crouched over a sizeable lavender bush when Arthur arrived and heard him speak to Alice, but she couldn’t move from her spot.
“What’s she doing?”
“There’s a butterfly. Little blue one. She’s been trying to take a photo of it for ten minutes.”
The butterfly flew off when she stood up, and Arthur was right behind her. The sun was in her eyes, and she was wearing the little blue patterned sundress he liked.
“Look!” It was a nice photo of the little thing. “Anyway, sorry. Wine?” Self-conscious, all she wanted him to do was kiss her.
He helped serve and carve dinner when it was ready, and it felt familiar as if they had been doing it all their lives. She pushed that thought away.
Putting a large apple crumble to warm in the oven, with vanilla cream she whipped, Rebecca felt his gaze on her as he rubbed his stomach. She put a large portion in a plastic clip box for him to take home, along with another box of leftover beef, and a Yorkshire pudding, trying not to feel self-conscious.
It was a pleasant afternoon; a proper Sunday. It was a new yet comfortable feeling and tensed as she tried not to let it go.
They watched TV after, and Arthur napped. It felt good to relax finally. He woke at seven. Alice had gone to bed, and Rebecca struggled to knit. She was unravelling whatever it was she’d been trying to make, sitting cross-legged in her armchair.
“Hey sleepy.” She beamed.
He rubbed his face and shivered, it had gone cool. “Tea?”
“Oh, lovely. Yes please, and there are some chocolate biscuits in the tin with the ducks on.” He came back a few minutes later, with a tray all laid out.
“You made these?” he ate one. “Jesus. You should open a bakery or something, these are amazing.” He stuffed another one in as she laughed.
She took one herself as he was tonguing the chocolate from his teeth. “We should talk, Arthur.”
“I’ll be honest, this is weird for me.”
“Why?” She set aside her poorly wound wool and moved to sit next to him, nibbling a biscuit.
“I want this. Part of me really wants this, but at the same time, I’m worried. I still feel strange, I know what you said, and I see you’re okay, but I don’t know.”
“Tell me what you thought that night. Not what you think now or what you think you thought then. Tell me what happened.”
He frowned. “I realised you were drunk, you were in a bit of a state. I felt terrible. I knew I needed to be careful, and if I did the wrong thing, it would jeopardise what we had. Have.”
“That’s fair. At what point did that change?”
“I just… I don’t know. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like that’s what I’d done.”
She thought for a minute. “Was Victoria always with you?”
Arthur nodded and frowned. “She is powerfully manipulative if she wants you to feel something...”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“No.”
“She hates me because she knows what I am.” She ate another biscuit.
“And that is?”
“Poor. Comprehensive educated, no uni, from a council estate. What I have achieved doesn’t matter, that I pulled myself away from criminality is irrelevant. There’s nothing wrong with coming from poverty, poor isn’t a disease, and not everyone can escape it or wants or needs to. To people like her, the distinction of class is important. Makes people like her feel like they matter.”
“Is that what you think of me?”
“No. I think you’re a rarity. We are from different worlds, and people in your world will mark it. I don’t have anything to do with where I came from.”
“I don’t care. Only we matter in our relationship. Mum loves you.”
She sighed. “It’s still a little strange for me with you being my boss. This is my workplace and my home, and the boundaries are complicated.”
“I know. That is why we aren’t rushing anything. Time will prove to us that this is what we want, for the right reasons, not only lust. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Good.”
“Right then.” They looked at each other. “I should go. Where’s mum?”
“In bed. She’s been a little tired lately. I’ll call the doctor tomorrow.”
“Thanks. If you need anything, let me know.”
She handed him the leftovers at the door. He smiled but didn’t kiss her when he left.
Sighing, she leant against the front door after closing it.
“Well?”
<
br /> Rebecca laughed when Alice popped her head around the landing. “Too soon.”
“Good grief, what is it with the young people these days? Get on with it.”
“Alice, there’s not a war on.” She shouted in feigned indignity.
“I’m not that old, young lady. Well, not quite.” She tutted but laughed.
Rebecca read in bed and left the French windows open in the muggy night. She tried to concentrate, but her mind kept wandering back to Arthur.
She didn’t care anymore that he was her boss; it wasn’t important enough. She loved him and wanted him. It might take him a little while to be okay with her, but he would. She smiled.
It was only ten, she texted him goodnight, and his response was immediate. She attempted to be cool. She was not cool.
Twelve
MARCH ON
Arthur hadn’t hoped to be friends with Rebecca again, never mind anything more. What happened had a profound effect on him; nuanced and difficult. Yet she’d made it easy. The relief that came took a few days to settle, he needed to give it time, and not rush.
His doorbell rang Monday night.
Vicky stood there, unsure but angry. He knew her well, knowing what she’d be like, and he invited her in, pausing before closing the door. He didn’t really want her in his house.
“Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?” She nodded to his glass of wine.
He poured her one without a word.
“Are we okay?”
Arthur sat at the kitchen table and gestured for her to sit. “Vicky, if you have to ask, then the answer is no. There was a time when I’d have done anything for you. I’ve said this before, but that’s the past. I don’t love you, and I’ve tried to be friends, and you seemed to have changed but,” he glanced up at her pained expression and made himself face her, “you’ve made me feel worse, and I don’t know if it was on purpose or not.
“I know how you think, and how you treat people. Do not go after her, in any way. At all, because Vicky, I swear to god, you’ll regret it.”
Her eyes went wide. Pushing the glass away, she stood. “I wish I could go back. I’d slap myself and tell me to hold on. I wish it was different.” Her laugh was a bitter one.
Getting a Life (New City Series Book 4) Page 12
