One Dirty Scot

by Donna Alam

  ‘I’ve told you, things in my family are fucked up. If Faris decides to make us an issue, you risk your job and your home by being with me.’

  ‘Make an issue—what’s that supposed to mean? You said you’d take care of everything, told me not to worry. You’re a grown man, Kai. You get to make your own choices.’ I find it hard to believe that his father would go to these lengths, let alone have the power.

  ‘I do. Of course I make my own choices.’ He sits suddenly, but I don’t move. ‘But I’ve learned to stay one step ahead of Faris. If you leave the school, he has no power. He won’t be able to interfere. I didn’t want to worry you, but this thing with Arwa, her warning you, that came from him.’

  ‘Do you really expect me to believe that?’

  ‘He knows I’m serious about you, Kate, and you aren’t in his plans.’

  ‘What about your plans? Don’t you get a say?’

  ‘I live as I want and I always have, but I have no power over what goes on at the school. I can’t protect you there. You need to understand, this,’ he waves an indicative finger between us, ‘will interfere with his fucked up plans. Serious he has an issue with, and I’m serious about you.’

  ‘It makes no sense.’

  ‘Why would it?’ He laughs bitterly, one hand rubbing his head, hair standing to attention. ‘Your family is obviously sane. He’s under the impression he’ll choose who I marry, that he’ll find me a wife, though a merger would be a more accurate description.’

  ‘He thinks you should have an arranged marriage?’ I repeat incredulously.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what he wants, I’m not getting married. Ever. Marriage is a one-way street to disaster.’

  I blink back the tears teetering on my eyelids, Niamh’s words rising like a spectre in the room. He won’t marry you. Ridiculous. Just stupid. If he were any other man in any other place in the world, marriage wouldn’t even be on the periphery of my thoughts. I should just be happy with the now. Not happy about right now, the conversation in this bed, but happy that he loves me.

  He. Loves. Me.

  His tone softens as he reaches out to me, hand resting on my thigh. ‘I’ll get my real estate agent onto looking for somewhere suitable. We’ll go car shopping at the weekend.’

  ‘What? Hang on a minute,’ I splutter, my wits returning from love central. ‘I didn’t say any of that was okay and I’ve already got a car, thanks to you.’

  ‘But I’d like to buy you something special, something from me. I’ll get him to line up some suitable properties. We’ll look together.’ Leaning forward, he plants a kiss against my shoulder. ‘Somewhere for us. Where we’re both comfortable being.’

  ‘You aren’t comfortable at my place?’

  ‘I’d prefer you not to be living next door to a man with designs on fucking you. Besides, I’ve had larger closet space than your apartment.’

  ‘It’s bijou and I like it.’ I pull myself to sit, moving the sheet to cover my chest. ‘I’m not living in some apartment like your floozy and you aren’t buying me a car!’ The first one was awkward enough. My voice rises in increments, a mixture of panic and distaste. Look at what happened to Essam’s girlfriend when their relationship was done. Does he expect me to willingly wander down that road? No way.

  Jumping to his feet, his eyes turn almost savage. ‘Are you even listening? What happened to trusting?’

  ‘I’m listening and what I heard was you want to hide me away from your dad. That you want to remove the temptation of Matt. What happened to your trust? I won’t be hidden like some dirty secret. I won’t be managed or handled and I won’t be fucking Matt!’ I tighten my grip on the sheet, modesty suddenly very important in the face of Kai’s naked rage.

  ‘You’re missing the point. If you want to keep your job then we’ll be hiding, skulking around behind my father’s back!’

  I lower my volume but not my tone. ‘I’m not leaving my job, or my home. I love you and I want to be with you, but I won’t give up what I have.’

  He raises his hands in frustration, tugging them through his hair before turning and leaving the room.

  How the hell did we get here from pearls?

  The return car journey is quiet, filled with introspection and an invasive silence. Unlike before, there’s no relaxation in the motion of the car and no conversational ebb and flow. More worryingly, there’s no banter or innuendo. There’s only quiet, interspersed with the most perfunctory of enquiries. Are you cold, comfortable? Should I change the air? Do you want to choose some music to put on?

  The atmosphere is heavy with the unspoken and I’m further suffocated by my thoughts. I feel like I’ve been swept off my feet, dragged to the delirious depths, and my lungs are tight and burning now that I’ve come up for air. He wants me. To keep me. Hurt me. How can I want all of that, too? How can I even begin to understand his life, his expectations? Does he really want to lock me away?

  A cold sweat beads against my skin, fear clawing at my skin, yet Kai is as cool and as unyielding as an ocean, the silence between us growing deafening.

  Eventually, the car pulls to a stop outside of my apartment building, Kai grasping my hands in his larger one, his words a weighty plea. ‘We will make this work. Somehow.’

  ‘Aren’t you coming in?’ I ask as we reach the front door.

  ‘I have some work to do before my flight in the morning.’

  ‘You’re travelling again?

  ‘Work,’ he answers with a shrug. ‘I’ll have my phone. Call me. Please.’ His eyes fall to our hands. My hands in his, fingers entwined. I take a deep breath.

  ‘You going anywhere nice?’

  ‘There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you, but as it is, no. Riyadh again.’

  ‘Oh.’ I don’t want to go inside. I don’t want to leave things as they stand. ‘Listen, I understand you’re worried about your dad, but I don’t see how—’

  My words are halted as he places his lips lightly against mine, lingering in a soft kiss before he speaks.

  ‘I’ve had a lifetime trying to understand him without much success. You don’t see the risks, but I swear to you, Kate, I won’t let him break what we have. When I get back, we’ll talk again. There are other things you should know, things I can’t tell you today, but I promise I’ll explain everything when I return, okay? Until then, no rash decisions. Please.’

  ‘When are you back?’

  ‘Thursday. Can I see you then?’

  ‘That’s the school open evening. I won’t be done until probably gone nine.’

  ‘Can I come over, after? Or I’ll send the car for you to come to me? Say yes, Kate. I need you.’

  I sigh as he pulls me against his chest, kissing my head and wrapping his arms around me tightly. It feels right. I feel right.

  ‘I have to go,’ he murmurs after a moment, but he doesn’t make a move.

  ‘Then go.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Then stay,’ I say softly.

  ‘The having and the wanting aren’t necessarily the same.’

  He sighs protractedly, placing his hands on my shoulders and his lips against mine once more. With the barest of touches, he nudges them open. He smells and tastes so good. We kiss slowly, every touch deliberate, filled with an intensity betraying our fears. Tears tip and trickle across my face as I move to break apart, but he continues to hold me to him, arms at my back, his kisses clinging, reducing to small, soft movements as he refuses to let go. To delay the end. But it comes eventually. We break apart, my tears clinging to his shirt like badges of regret.

  ‘I’ll be back soon.’ One hand strokes my cheek. Are those words consolation for me, or him? ‘Go inside, habibti.’

  Leaning around me, he opens the door and manoeuvres me inside, all without stepping over the threshold.

  ‘I love you,’ I whisper, my disappointment as quiet as the closing door.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘Come on, Kitty. I’ve got news!
’

  I open the front door to a bright-eyed Niamh, her fist raised, ready to knock again. ‘Thank Christ,’ she exclaims, ‘I thought I was going to have to drink this alone!’ One hand grasping a bottle of bubbly by the neck, she brushes past me, heading straight for the kitchen and pulling a couple of glasses from the cupboard.

  ‘Make yourself at home, why don’t you? And what are we celebrating?’

  ‘I popped his Niamh cherry!’

  ‘Woot! I so hoped that was you I could hear coming—quite literally—through the wall last night.’ Her expression is priceless, the wine forgotten in her hand. ‘Who’d have guessed you were a screamer, but do you think you could keep it down a bit from now on? Some of us were sleeping alone.’

  ‘No.’ Her wide eyes move slowly to the wall my apartment shares with Rob’s. ‘You can’t hear, can you?’

  ‘Every. Last. Ounce.’ Then I let her off the hook, holding out open hands. ‘Nah, I haven’t heard a thing. I think that’s just their kitchen on the opposite side of the wall. Ha! Who’s got a face like a slapped arse, now?’

  It’s not often she’s lost for words and I very rarely see her blush. Kate for the win again!

  ‘Thanks be to fuck!’ She laughs with genuine relief. ‘Bad enough that he has a roomie. I thought for a minute I’d have to make him start biting the pillow.’

  ‘Eww, what?’ I grimace. ‘Too much info.’

  ‘You started it. But I hit that! At last!’ Twisting the bottle from the cork—did you know that’s the best way to prevent an explosion of froth and a half-empty bottle?—it opens in a pop.

  ‘Good doing, then, you and Rob?’

  ‘Yeah.’ And then she smiles shyly. This new Niamh is a hoot. Demure has never been in her social vocabulary before.

  ‘How did it come about? Eww, not like that! I meant how did you manage to . . .’

  ‘Deflower him?’ she asks with a dirty laugh. ‘I just put my cards on the table. I said, “Look, stop messing about”. I told him I was sick of waiting for him, of coming alone. Told him if he didn’t pull his finger out and put it in me, it was something he was never going to see.’ Pouring bubbly into two glasses, she adds, ‘Or words to that effect.’

  ‘You sweet talker. How could he have resisted that?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  As the doorbell rings, sixth sense tells me it’s Rob.

  ‘I bet that’s him,’ I say, heading to answer it. ‘Now that you’ve cracked the seal it’ll be gushing!’

  ‘Hey, Kate, is Niamh here?’ And I was right, it’s him.

  Gesturing him inside, Niamh almost jumps as she begins straightening her clothes and hair.

  ‘Hiya, Rob,’ she says shyly. Niamh and shy—what a trip!

  Placing a chaste kiss against her cheek, Rob pulls her in for a quick hug. I feel slightly intrusive even though it’s my apartment, so I walk back to the lounge.

  ‘I thought that was your car downstairs.’

  ‘I just popped around to hang out with Kate, didn’t I?’ She smiles a little manically in my direction. Maybe that’s her signal for me not to congratulate him on finally giving it up?

  ‘Er, yeah. Come in, Rob. Sit down.’ I decide to put the wine in the fridge as Niamh pulls him into the room.

  ‘I see you girls have started the evening early,’ he says, gesturing to the bottle in my hand.

  ‘It’s always wine o’clock somewhere in the world. Would you like a glass, maybe a beer?’

  ‘No, thanks. Matt and I are heading out for dinner. I thought maybe you’d like to come?’

  I bet she’s gagging to.

  ‘That’s a lovely thought, but—’

  ‘Of course, the invitation’s open to you both. Kate, how do burgers and beer sound?’

  Pedestrian and trouble, if I’m honest. I’m pretty sure Kai wouldn’t be pleased to hear I’ve been out for dinner with Matt, especially after his antics at the pool. The exact nature of Kai’s words are a little hazy, maybe deliberately so of certain aspects of that day . . . So while I don’t really want to go, I feel I shouldn’t go, either. But that can’t be healthy, can it?

  Fleeting images and sensations of the day cause me to shiver, my gaze sliding towards Niamh and her silent, pleading eyes. Go out with Niamh. Be around Matt? It can’t really be an issue, especially now that Kai and I have declared our feelings for one and other. Besides, we’re all grown-ups. And if Kai happens to object, I can just tell him; set him straight.

  Or maybe get to repeat the experience from the pool party . . .

  ‘Yeah, why not.’

  The music in this faux-pub is almost as obnoxious as the red-checked tablecloths. Beers and burgers? Try slumming it. All this place is missing is a mechanical bull and some hicks chewing on straw. I can’t wait to go home.

  Standing at the edge of a scuffed wooden dance floor, I start as large hands grasp my hips. My whole body stills as they hold me for a moment before forcibly moving my reluctant form to the music, as I’m puppeteered by an almost familiar touch.

  ‘Kate,’ breathes a familiar voice in my ear.

  I place my hands on the larger ones, instantly reminded of Kai—his height and bearing, his hands—all so similar. Then I pull them away in distaste. ‘Essam, you’ve got to stop doing that. It’s seriously creepy.’

  ‘I called your name twice but it’s so loud in here.’ He grabs my hand. ‘Come, sit. Let me buy you a drink.’

  I try to catch Niamh’s attention, but she has her back to me. Rob has joined her on the dance floor and she’s too preoccupied to notice my dread. So I follow Essam reluctantly, possibly forcibly, my wrist in his hand. We climb several stairs at the edge of the dance floor, heading for a quieter spot.

  On edge, I perch myself on a dark leather sofa in an area worryingly somewhat out of the way. It’s quieter, but by no means quiet, but it’s also dark. As Essam lowers himself next to me, our thighs touch. I draw my legs in tighter and scoot towards the arm.

  ‘Have you spoken to Kais?’ he asks pleasantly. But the tone doesn’t suit him, especially as I know now exactly how unpleasant he is.

  ‘Lots, thanks.’

  ‘Don’t be coy. I mean about Riyadh, habibti.’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ I reply, picking invisible lint from my jeans.

  ‘You don’t like to be called habibti?’ He draws out the word along with his arm, stretching it along the back of the sofa and behind me. ‘I think perhaps you don’t like Essam.’

  ‘I’d like Essam better if he stayed on his side of the chair.’ I move further forward away from his fingers.

  ‘Maybe you’d be more inclined to friendship if I was to tell you exactly what’s going on?’

  ‘I don’t need any new friends, thanks.’

  ‘It’s useful to have friends in high places. Friends who are willing to tell you exactly what you’ve missed.’

  ‘Yeah, I can see that. How embarrassing would it be for me to, like, meet your wife and ask her how your girlfriend is?’

  ‘I’m not the only one with secrets and I’m not the one teaching innocent little girls,’ he retorts, hard-edged. ‘Your job requires discretion. I’m sure the parents of your class would be most distressed to hear their child’s mentor lives such a debauched life. Boyfriends and bars. Fucking the owner’s son for a car.’

  ‘That’s not—’ Then a thought hits me as hard as a fist, making me feel sick to my stomach. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ he answers, discerning my thinking. ‘I mean only to warn. Open your eyes, habibti. You aren’t the only one Kai is fucking with, and while we all have skeletons in our closet, I know for a fact Kais prefers his to wear chains.’

  ‘You’re mad.’ I begin to rise, to get away from his filthy insinuations, but I don’t move far as he lunges across me, pinioning me against the chair by his forearm.

  ‘Listen to me, you little slut,’ he snarls, his head looming over mine. ‘Your precious Kai fucks people over. He won�
�t get away with it this time.’

  ‘Get off me!’

  Struggling against him, an abstract thought drifts across my mind: he’s surprisingly heavy for someone so leanly built. Pinned to the chair by his body, he brushes away the hair that’s fallen onto my face, his eyes angry and . . .

  ‘I don’t normally do plain.’ His breath smells like whiskey, his eyes, I now realise, filled with lust and frightening ideas. ‘Perhaps there is something about you.’

  I turn my head to avoid his hovering mouth, panic swelling as I push hard with my arms. But his mouth fastens to my neck and he bites. I yell out again in frustration, in pain. Another detached thought arises: my connection between pleasure and pain lies only with Kai.

  Fear swells in my throat, the darkness of the area suddenly suffocating. Oh, God, this can’t be happening. Surely someone will see! Someone please step in, intervene?

  We grapple and struggle against one another, his hand on my leg, his fingers clawing at my thighs as he snarls insults. About Kai. About me.

  Then suddenly, I’m free, his body dragged away by hands I can’t see.

  ‘Kate! Kate!’ Niamh shakes me by the shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’

  My face is wet, tears streaming down my face as I shiver uncontrollably. Niamh bodily moves me, pulling me upright and walking me towards the restroom, pushing through crowds who seem to stare. If not for her arms banded across my shoulders, I don’t think I could stand.

  Inside, she settles me into a plush, pink sofa just inside the door.

  ‘It’s okay, they’re calling the police.’ She kneels before me, her hands rubbing and soothing my arms as though I were cold.

  ‘No, don’t!’ I cry grabbing her forearms. ‘I don’t want the police involved.’ Words swirl through my head . . . debauched slut . . . lose my job. Kai.

  ‘Don’t be daft! You have to. The fucker assaulted you!’

  ‘Please, Niamh. I just want to go home.’ Fat, wet tears continue to roll down my face. ‘Please.’ As I put my head in my hands, the door to the restroom opens and a tall, striking blonde walks in.

  ‘Madam, the manager wishes to speak with you. Come, I will take you.’ Her accent is Eastern European, her tone kind.