by Rachel Dove
‘Douchebag? How dare you!’
James let go of her hand and walked forward slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. Darcy shuffled back before he could get hold of himself, but then puffed his chest out in response.
‘Go on then, make me leave. I dare you!’
James took another step, then looked back at her.
‘Maria?’ he asked, and she looked at him wide-eyed. ‘Do you want him to go?’
Maria heard footsteps behind her and saw Lynn coming into the room. Maria looked back at Darcy, at James. What did she want? She was going to have to tell him it wasn’t his, but in front of James?
She really didn’t want to tell him the one-night stand story. She had to tell Darcy, of course. Leaving out the fact of who the one-night stand actually was. James hadn’t asked about the father. Had he just assumed it was Darcy?
‘I… er… er…’
‘See?’ Darcy jumped in. ‘She doesn’t want me to leave, so give us a minute, would you? I’m sure you have a light bulb to fit somewhere.’ Darcy flicked his manicured finger at James’s hoody, which was emblazoned with his company name. James flinched, and Lynn came to stand at her other side, pulling her gently to the chair.
‘Sit down, hun,’ she said softly. ‘It’s okay.’
Maria felt pathetic. She couldn’t get the words out! Her worlds were colliding, and she didn’t know how to make it stop. She wanted to stop and get off the carousel that was her life now.
‘Listen, posh boy.’ James’s voice was like something she had never heard before from him. It was as though his whole body was vibrating with tension, his words a throaty rumble from deep within his chest. No, his core. He looked and sounded a little like Wolverine. ‘I won’t tell you again. Leave, now.’
Darcy stepped forward, pushing his hair back with one hand, his cufflink glinting in the light of the shop. Maria knew it well; it was part of a set from her. A present one birthday, their initials entwined on the face of each. She had wanted him to wear them for the wedding, but his mother had insisted he would be wearing a pair of his father’s. Family tradition apparently, which was fair enough. Maria understood the importance of family, if nothing else. She’d never got the chance to follow many traditions in her family, so she didn’t want to mess with his, cause any trouble. She had only ever wanted his love, and to be a part of his family.
‘I don’t think so. We have things to discuss, and I don’t understand why you’re still here, arguing with me about something that doesn’t involve you one iota.’
‘I could say the same to you, young man,’ Lynn said, stepping forward. ‘You should just go. I’m sure Maria will call you if she wants to. But if she did, she would have done it by now, don’t you see that?’
Maria sighed. Now even Lynn was sticking up for her. She really needed to put an end to this. Once and for all. Before the whole thing came tumbling out.
‘Yes, please, Darcy, just leave. I don’t want to talk to you.’
She looked at him for the first time, properly, in the face, and was shocked when she felt it. She had thought about him so much since the day he had humiliated her, but now he was there, she wished him away. She felt nothing, nothing but shame. Looking at him had her straight back in that wedding dress, climbing out of the window of the side room to avoid her guests. Crying over her fries in the burger bar, her friend trying to pick up the dropped stitches of her ripped-apart life.
‘You heard her.’ James took this as carte blanche to turn into some kind of enforcer and folded his arms in front of Darcy. It was quite comical, James being a good foot taller than Darcy, but Mr Burgess wasn’t used to being dismissed in such a manner.
He leaned to one side, looking at her with pleading eyes.
‘Maria, we have to talk, I need to explain, and…’
He took a step forward and James reached out with one arm and placed his open palm square on the front of Darcy’s head. Darcy tried to take another step forward, but James never budged and he was jerked back.
Darcy lost it then and, bending in half, emitted a strange ‘weeeehhhh’ sound and tried to slam into James’s torso. James let go of his head and, catching him in his arms with an ‘ooof’, went straight in and tried to tackle him back. James’s shove propelled the pair nearer the door, and then he was like a prop forward in a rugby scrum, lifting Darcy half off the floor and towards the door. Darcy started punching James in the ribs, the kidneys, but James slapped him on the behind hard and Darcy screamed. Actually screamed. Lynn was by now flapping her arms, running around the pair, saying, ‘Stop it, stop it now, boys!’ Maria was too scared to get close, in case a flying arm caught her. She was already feeling pretty off balance. One shove and she would be straight back in hospital. James kept flicking his gaze to her, as though checking she was okay, out of the way.
‘Darcy, stop it!’ she shouted, just as James roared and reared back, clutching his arm.
‘You bit me?!’ he said, looking at Darcy like he wanted to drop kick him through the shop window. ‘You bloody bit me, you snobby wanker! What are you, a flipping toddler?’
‘You can talk, you knuckle-dragging buffoon! What the hell are you even doing here?’
He turned to Maria then, realisation crossing his features. Maria steeled herself. This was it. Truth time.
‘Are you shagging this gorilla?’ he demanded. ‘What is it, a bit of rough to get back at me? Classy move, Maria, I must say. I shan’t have it!’
That was it. That was the moment she flipped.
‘Have what? My life is nothing to do with you, Darcy! YOU LEFT ME ALONE!’ she screamed at him, a howl of pure pain in her words. ‘I was all alone! Get out, now! I don’t have to answer to you! Go back to your bloody mother!’
Lynn came to her side, standing close to her and folding her arms sternly.
James went to push him again, but he held up his hands.
‘Okay, I know, I know. I’ll go, but we need to talk. You must realise that. We’ll have to talk at some point. We have so much to talk about!’
Maria shook her head. ‘No, we don’t. I don’t want to talk to you ever again. Just go. Don’t come back, Darcy, I mean it. There’s nothing here for you.’
He hung his head, and she took him in. His shirt was hanging out, one side torn, and his normally flashy hairstyle was a bird’s nest on top of his head. She could see he was sweating, and she glanced at James. His back to her, his stance rigid, he didn’t even look out of breath. The only evidence of a fight was the red teeth marks on his now uncovered arm, his sleeve pulled up to show the damage. She felt a pang of guilt. She had to tell Darcy Burgess the truth about the baby. He’d said ‘ours’ for a reason. This was bad. She had to get rid of him. Once and for all. What was it they said? Oh yes. The truth will set you free. And get rid of the posh git who left you at the altar to please his mummy-kins. The sad thing was, it also put paid to dashing rescuers as well.
‘I’ll call,’ he said, turning to the door. ‘And you will answer.’
James took slow steps forward, punctuating his exit.
‘Do me a favour, though,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Stop acting like a common slut, at least when you’re carrying my child.’
Maria heard a bang, followed by a thud, and it took a good three or four seconds before her brain was able to process what her eyes had just seen. Without saying a word, James had taken a step forward, and then Darcy was on the floor, knocked clean off his feet. James had swung his right arm, and that was it. Hit-the-deck time.
James leant forward, right into Darcy’s bewildered face.
‘Don’t you ever speak to her like that again, you hear me?’
‘Do you know who I am?’ Darcy spluttered through his rapidly swelling face. James laughed, an easy, carefree laugh. One Maria had heard many times before. It was at odds with his gait, which was coiled tight. The man was mad, she could see it.
‘I don’t care who you are. You will never, ever, speak to her like that aga
in. Right?’
Darcy looked as though he might have trouble remembering his own name, let alone the horrible one he had just uttered, and he nodded reluctantly. James hauled him to his feet and out the door, leaving the two women standing there in silence.
‘Well,’ Lynn said, rubbing her hands together as though shaking off the dust of Darcy. ‘Shall I make a pot of tea?’
***
Outside, Darcy was trying, very unsuccessfully, to keep his dignity, and his feet on the ground, while James marched him to his car.
‘This yours, is it?’ he said, pointing to the rather flash white Porsche. His weekend car. He nodded, trying to wriggle out of James’s rock-hard grasp and gain some purchase on the pavement with his Italian leather shoes. James suddenly let go, and Darcy windmilled his limbs to stay on his feet.
‘Bye,’ James said, turning away to go back into the shop. He needed to check everyone was all right.
‘Tell me something first.’ Darcy’s voice stopped him in his tracks. ‘Is she… are they okay?’
James closed his eyes, sighing deeply. When he opened them again, he could see Lynn and Maria talking, Maria sipping from a mug, one hand on her growing bump. He felt a huge surge of feeling slam into his chest once more, just as when Darcy had called her that name. He was in this, whatever it was, and he didn’t know how, or in what way exactly. It was nothing he could put into words. He just knew he wanted to be there.
‘They’re fine,’ he said, turning to look at Darcy, who was inspecting his rather swollen face in the wing mirror of his car. Priorities, eh, Darce? Pretty boy.
He turned to look at him then, jutting out his glass chin.
‘I’m not going to go away, you know. I’m here to stay.’
James shook his head and went to walk back inside.
‘Yeah, well, so am I. And I never left, either.’
Maria was just drinking a warming cup of herbal tea when James walked back in. She heard the roar of Darcy’s car driving away. His weekend Porsche, obviously. She’d always hated that thing. It was like being careened across the road in a low toboggan, but he loved it.
James came straight over and sat next to her. Lynn was working in the back, singing along to Nina Simone on the radio.
‘You didn’t need to do that, James,’ Maria said, looking at him coldly.
‘I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it in all honesty. I just reacted so I apologise for my part, but no one speaks to you like that.’
‘Why not? Why am I so special? He’s mad, I get it.’ She looked down at her lap, her hand stroking her tummy.
‘He’s mad? Why do you care how he feels? The man is a louse, Mar, pure and simple.’
Mar. Not many people called her that, and now James was one of them. She thought of the scene Darcy had walked in on. Them together, over her bump like that. So blissfully domestic. She didn’t know what Darcy knew, but he’d obviously picked up on something Maria herself had been trying to ignore.
‘James, you need to go too, I think.’
James’s eyes widened in shock, and he reached for her hand, covering it with his over her bump.
‘I really am sorry, I just lost my temper. You have to know, that’s not me.’
‘It’s not that… it’s not just that, anyway.’ She picked up his hand and, after a moment, placed it on his own leg. He looked down at it, but said nothing. ‘You’ve been so good to me, with the wedding and the shop and everything, but I really… I just need to get used to doing things on my own now.’
James frowned. ‘Why, when I’m here?’
‘I can’t rely on you, James.’ She stood up, stretching out her back and suddenly feeling very tired.
‘What makes you think that? When have I ever let you down?’ He looked so confused, aghast. She tried to summon up an occasion to strengthen her non-existent case, but of course nothing came to mind. He had always been there, her rock.
‘Listen…’ She looked at him kindly. ‘I love your company, but you have a business to run. Surely you have things to do, besides bailing me out of my misery and being a bouncer. I just think maybe we should have a break from each other. We have all this wedding stuff to do together anyway, so it’s not like we won’t see each other.’
Maria noticed that the radio in the back room was noticeably quieter, and she knew Lynn would probably have something to say to her later.
He didn’t say anything at first, and the look he gave her broke her heart a little. His hair was doing the tufty thing she liked, which meant he had probably jumped straight out of bed, and just wanged a comb through his dark locks. He always looked so eager in the morning. She imagined him jumping straight out of bed at first light, eager to get the day going.
‘That’s not an answer. So now, because of Darcy, in the space of a few weeks, we’ve gone from possibly living together to being strangers?’ He stood and looked down at her. She caught a waft of his aftershave and had to fight the urge to tuck herself into his big arms. ‘I don’t want to do this. I’m sorry if I overstepped today, but that man…’ He jabbed at the window and clenched his fists at his sides.
He fixed his gaze on her, and she looked away.
‘He just gets me mad. He doesn’t know what he had. He never deserved it in the first place, and he still threw it away.’
‘He did know, and he left. That’s the point, James. I need to concentrate on my baby and the business, and that’s it. I can’t deal with anything else right now. I need to move on.’
‘I’m not asking for anything! I thought we were friends? Why do you need to move on from me?’
‘We are friends, James, but I have Cassie and Lynn. I’m fine.’
She looked to the door, and she could feel her whole body shaking. ‘I’ll let you know when the next appointment is, okay? For the wedding, I mean. I need to go sit down for a bit.’
James clenched his jaw and strode to the door.
‘I don’t want to stress you out, so I’ll go. Tell Lynn I said bye.’ He slammed the door behind him, and the radio sang a sad song in the background. One she used to love, about true love and perfect partners. What a crock of utter crap.
Chapter 15
‘Mr Atwood, one more outburst and you shall be taken from this courtroom! The case has been decided, any appeals should be discussed with your solicitor.’ Judge Rothwell banged his gavel again and eyed the irate defendant over the glasses perched on the end of his nose. Judge Alexander Rothwell was one of the nicer judges at Harrogate County Court, but Cassie could tell that the slimeball ex of her client, a very mousy and kind woman called Joanne, was testing his limits.
‘I don’t give a rat’s arse what you do with your little ‘ammer, I ain’t paying her nowt. She sat on her arse all day, while I grafted my arse off at work!’
Grafted meaning running a very successful engineering firm and banging any female he could, while his long-suffering wife raised his three children, did his books and cooked and cleaned for him. Not much sitting on your bottom with all that and three children under three, surely?
Cassie thanked the judge and was just ushering a very delighted and embarrassed Joanne outside when she felt her arm being grabbed roughly, pulling her off kilter. She felt another set of hands on hers as the solicitor for the other side tried to wrestle his client off her.
‘Get off me now, Mr Atwood,’ she said as nicely as she could. She wanted to rip his arm off and beat him with it, but it wasn’t really the done thing. Not in the courtroom anyway. Had they been in the car park, she might have had an answer using her car door. It seemed she was a dab hand with one of those. Mr Atwood sneered at her, called her a ‘feminist tramp’ and, rearing back, went to spit at her. A hocking great loogy of a spit too. Cassie pushed her client back, spinning out of the way, and the huge wad of sputum landed squarely in the face of Mr Atwood’s solicitor. A rather weakly but razor-sharp law-minded man who looked at this moment like he wanted to throw up.
Joanne shouted, ‘Stop it,
Michael! You owe me!’ and passed the poor solicitor a pack of baby wipes from her oversized handbag.
Court security came and hauled Michael off, Cass waving and giving him her best ‘eat shit and die’ grin, which only inflamed him more and caused him to catch the poor guard, John, in the testicles with a flailing leg. He was still screaming about bra burners and his lack of money when they took him down to the cells to cool off. Cassie hugged Joanne, making sure she was okay.
‘I can’t believe it’s over. I can buy a place of my own now, me and the kids.’ Joanne looked elated, and Cassie felt elated for her. Another client happy, able to move on from a bloke who couldn’t keep it in his pants and expected a woman to just take it without a grumble.
‘Well, you earned it too, don’t forget. I’m really happy for you and the children. I’ll get everything signed off and be in touch, okay?’
She looked to the doors through which darling ex-hubby dearest had just departed.
‘He’ll be down for a while, but will you be okay tonight?’
Joanne waved her away. ‘He’s not that type. He’ll just moan for a while. But he’s a good dad, believe it or not. When he shows.’
Cassie nodded, satisfied. ‘Well, any problems, you know where I am, okay? Call the police if he gives you any trouble.’
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she went to take it as she waved Joanne off.
Her house phone number came up on the screen, and she smiled.
‘Have you not got a phone yet, Mr Tucker?’ she teased.
‘I’m waiting for it to be repaired in the shop, remember?’ Tucker’s laughing voice came over the phone, warming Cassie’s cheeks. ‘Some psychotic legal eagle tried to crush it into my hipbone. How did the case go?’
‘Good,’ she said, making her way out of the court building to the nearby car park. ‘We won. It didn’t go down too well, but I’ll tell you about it later.’
The line went quiet. ‘Ah well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think I’m ready to get back to work, and my flat.’
Cassie reached her car, but instead of getting in, she sagged against it.
