Redemption

by Jessica Ashe

  “He’s not interested in me,” Maisie said. “He made that pretty clear.”

  “You two looked close when Oliver and I came in. I saw he had his arm around you on the sofa before the two of you darted apart when we walked in.”

  Maisie smiled, although she was still crying. “You saw that?”

  “Why do you think I sat in between you?”

  “Yeah, you kind of cramped my style there.”

  “That was exactly the intent. So what went wrong?”

  “I really don’t want to talk about this with my sister.”

  “You’d rather talk about it with Mom?” I asked. “Despite what you sometimes say, I do not have a heart of stone. I’ve had boy troubles in the past too.”

  “Yeah, but now you’ve got the perfect man.”

  “Oliver’s not perfect,” I replied.

  “Name one thing that’s not perfect about Oliver,” Maisie said. “Oh, does he have a really small—”

  “No,” I replied immediately. “Definitely not. In fact, maybe his flaw is that it’s… you know what, never mind. How about the fact that he lives in another country? That’s going to be a problem at some point. Plus, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re technically related.”

  “Oh man, I can’t wait until you have that conversation with Dad. You have to let me be there.”

  “Only if you tell me what happened tonight,” I replied. I wanted Maisie there when I told Dad anyway. He might not get so mad if she was there. It’s not like we were close anyway. I still hadn’t seen him once on this trip and there was a good chance I’d go home without seeing him. That was just fine with me.

  “I kissed him,” Maisie said, looking down at her lap as she spoke. “Or at least I tried to. It was just going to be a little kiss goodbye. It’s not like we were going to start making out with you and Oliver just around the corner. That would be weird.”

  “Uh, yeah, that wouldn’t be right,” I said, relieved that at least Maisie had no idea what Oliver and I had been doing at that exact moment. We’d only kissed for a few moments, but it never took long for me to get excited, and I’d felt a few signs of Oliver’s eagerness pressing against me.

  “He ran away when I got close,” Maisie said. “I’m sure you saw that part.”

  “Shaun’s a nice kid, Maisie, but he’s also shy and quiet. He’s not as forward as you. He was probably just scared. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never kissed a girl before.”

  “That wasn’t it. I saw the look on his face as I moved closer to him. He cringed.” Maisie’s voice was shaking and the tears were coming faster now than they had done all night.

  I’d never seen her this upset before. Not since she first saw her face after the attack. I put my arm around her, but it felt woefully inadequate.

  “He saw my scars,” Maisie sobbed, “and then he ran.”

  “I’m sure that’s not what—”

  “That’s exactly what happened,” Maisie yelled. “Don’t you think I’ve seen that look a hundred times before? I know what it looks like when people are disgusted by my face. I know I pretend that I don’t care, but I do. I hate how ugly I am. I hate it.”

  I couldn’t bear to look at Maisie right now. I couldn’t handle seeing her cry like this, but the last thing she’d want is for me to look away from her.

  My own tears started falling down my cheeks. I don’t know if it was guilt or seeing her upset, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be strong for her, but once again I had failed miserably.

  “Anyone who thinks you’re ugly doesn’t deserve you,” I said softly in her ear. “I think this is all a misunderstanding, but if it isn’t then you can just move on and forget about Shaun.”

  “I can’t forget about him,” Maisie said. “I’m his aunt.” She laughed and pulled away from me to wipe the tears from her eyes.

  “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” I asked. “I can crash on the sofa. These rooms are far too big for one person anyway.”

  “No, I’m fine. Honestly, I am. I just need some time to myself. Can you do me a favor though?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “When you tell Oliver about this, can you leave out all the crying? Pretend I was just angry, and not upset.”

  “Will do.” I stood up and slipped my shoes back on. Maisie did look a bit better now. I knew from experience that sometimes a decent crying session did a world of good, but I also knew that sometimes it wasn’t enough. It never had been for me when Oliver had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me.

  I’d been a bit older than Maisie was now, but not by a lot. Fourteen was plenty old enough to have your heart broken, especially with everything Maisie has gone through in her life.

  “Maybe Oliver and I should spend less time together from now on,” I suggested. “It’s not fair to you.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Maisie said. “You’re so much more chilled out now, and you’re always buzzing after you’ve had one of your dirty afternoons. No, I like this version of you.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, me too. Night, sis.” I kissed Maisie on the cheek and headed back up to my room.

  Maisie had been right; I’d changed since Oliver and I had started dating. I still acted a bit “mom-like” around Maisie, but it took a lot more effort to do it. I wasn’t so tightly wound anymore, I slept better, and I kept smiling without knowing why.

  Things were good for me, I just wished Maisie had things as easy. Before bed a message came through from Oliver.

  Spoke to Shaun. Everything will be fine. Will explain later. Pub tomorrow night?

  Thank God for that. Teenagers could get into fights over nothing, but fortunately they could make up just as easily. It had taken Oliver and I eight years to get together after our fight. Now we were with each other every spare second; we had a lot of time to make up for.

  I’d always thought that once Michelle and I put the past to one side and admitted how we felt, things would be simple. Easy. Fun. I hadn’t imagined Shaun and Maisie would make things so bloody complicated. They weren’t doing it on purpose of course, but teenagers had a habit of getting in the way.

  I knocked on Shaun’s door and walked in. I let him keep a lock on his door, so him leaving it unlocked was a subtle way of letting me know I could come inside. He wasn’t crying, but then Shaun wasn’t really the crying type. He probably got that from me.

  “What happened back there, mate?” I asked. At times like this, I always tried to act like a brother or friend. I only pulled the father card out when things got really serious, which was rare with a kid like Shaun. “Am I going to get an earful from Michelle?”

  “She tried to kiss me,” Shaun said. He couldn’t look at me as he spoke, but that was fine. It’s not like I’d ever been all that open about girls with my mum.

  “I kind of gathered that. You didn’t want to kiss her? I thought you two were getting along well.”

  Shaun nodded his vigorously. “We are. I did want to, but her scars… on her face…”

  Maybe I was being biased, but I couldn’t imagine anyone not thinking Maisie was beautiful. Her smile was only rivalled by Michelle’s, and that was something different entirely. I knew boys were obsessed with looks, but I thought Shaun was different.

  “I raised you better than that, Shaun. She can’t help her scars.”

  “I know,” he said quickly. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I’m not supposed to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “How Maisie got her scars. But I do know.”

  Shit. I’d done my best to keep negative stories about his father secret, but the information was out there if you looked for it. There were rumours in dark corners of the Internet, but someone was bound to have found it and told Shaun. Either that or he had overheard my conversations with solicitors and the police.

  “What do you know?” I asked. I didn’t want to lie to the kid, but if I had a chance to redeem his father�
�s image then I was damn sure going to take it.

  “I know Dad was into some bad stuff before he died. Don’t try to say otherwise, because I’ll know you’re lying.”

  “Your Dad made some mistakes,” I admitted, “but they don’t have anything to do with Maisie.”

  “My Dad’s the reason they were attacked.”

  “Why do you think that?” As far as I knew, no-one had directly connected Gary to Maisie’s attack, so I had no idea where Shaun got that idea from.

  “Winston told me.”

  “Winston’s been talking to you?” I asked angrily. How fucking dare he come near Shaun. Shaun was a minor who lost his only parent. There had to be laws against a detective approaching him without my permission. That piece of shit, dirty cop would pay at some point. I’d make sure of it.

  Shaun nodded. “He said Dad was involved in a criminal enterprise and that you were as well. That’s why Maisie was attacked.”

  Jesus. He implicated me as well. If Winston was dirty, he might be trying to pin the blame on me and make me look like a bad witness. Bringing him down as going to be nigh on impossible.

  “Listen, Shaun. Your father is not responsible for what happened to Maisie. I am. I think about it every day. It haunts me when I close my eyes. But whatever the case, her injuries are nothing to do with you. Nothing. You do not need to feel guilty in any way. Do you understand?”

  Shaun paused for a few seconds and nodded. “I should apologize to her. She looked pretty upset.”

  “Fortunately for you, I’ve got a lot of experience in the area of upsetting and then apologising to women, so you’re in good hands.”

  Shaun smiled and let me put my arm around his shoulder. “Does Maisie know?” he asked. “About your involvement?”

  Now it was my turn to feel like shit. “No,” I replied. “She doesn’t. I didn’t tell her back then because I wanted to deal with the situation myself. And because I was a coward. Now, I just don’t want her to hate me.”

  “She won’t hate you,” Shaun said. “She’s kind of awesome. And she thinks the world of you, so I can’t imagine she would ever hate you. Unless you mess with her sister.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, that would definitely put me in her bad books. Fortunately, her sister’s kind of awesome too.”

  I let Shaun play some video games before bed, and sent a quick text to Michelle, before disappearing to my workout room to make a phone call.

  “Hello, West London Police Station. How can I help?”

  “Can you put me through to Chief Superintendent Hodgson, please?” I asked. “Tell him it’s Oliver Cornish.”

  “Oh, certainly Mr. Cornish,” said the sweet female voice on the other end of the line who clearly recognized my name.

  “Oliver, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Hodgson said when she picked up the phone.

  “Hey, officer, sorry to bother you so late. Wasn’t sure you’d still be there.”

  “Yeah, my schedule’s all over the place these days. What can I do for you?”

  “It’s Winston.”

  “Shit, what’s he done now?”

  “He’s been speaking to Shaun without my permission.”

  “Fuck’s sake. He’s getting desperate, I suppose.”

  “Is there anything you can do at your end to rein him in?” I asked. “I don’t mind the police investigating me, and I’ve always fully cooperated, but it has to stop at some point. This has been going on for years.”

  “I’ll do my best. I’m not technically his boss, but I go drinking with the man who is. I’ll have a word.”

  “Thanks, detective.”

  “Was there something else?” Hodgson asked, noticing that I hadn’t ended the call.

  “It looks like I’m back in the England team,” I said. “Might be playing at the World Cup.”

  “Yeah, so I heard. I was just waiting for the right time to try and bum some tickets off you actually. You don’t sound too happy at the prospect though.”

  “Am I taking a stupid risk?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. By playing in a high-profile tournament. The last time I did that I attracted the attention of those scum who attacked Maisie.”

  “They’re all behind bars now,” Hodgson insisted. “And they ain’t going anywhere.”

  “There could be more out there.”

  “We got them all, I promise. The first few we arrested blabbed like little babies and the rest came crumbling down. You’re perfectly safe to play in the tournament.”

  “It’s not my safety I’m worried about.”

  “You should be. Because if you don’t play and, more importantly, don’t get me tickets, I will come down on you like a tonne of bricks. Winston will be the least of your problems.”

  I laughed. “Okay, I take your point.”

  The last time I played for England in a World Cup, I’d put those I loved at risk. If I thought there was any chance of them being harmed again, I would pull out of the squad immediately.

  I knew my fears were ungrounded. The betting ring had been shut down years ago. If only my guilt had disappeared with it. Maybe if I righted the wrongs of 2007 I could finally learn to live with myself. Whether Maisie and Michelle would ever learn to forgive me was another matter entirely.

  Oliver convinced me to go back to the same pub where I had burst into tears in front of everyone. I recognized a few of the bar staff and customers, but if they had any idea who I was, they didn’t bother showing it. Even Oliver got largely ignored; probably because he was wearing that God-awful Chargers hat.

  We ordered a few drinks, but there were no tables so we just hung around by one of the gambling machines. I’d never been one for gambling and after putting £10 into the machine and getting nothing in return, I decided my original instincts had been correct.

  “Are we being a little naive leaving Maisie and Shaun alone again?” I asked. “I know what happens when couples have a fight and then make up again.”

  Oliver smiled. “Yeah, there’s nothing like make-up sex. We need to have a good old fashioned fight sometime, and then make up.”

  “Are you already getting bored of the sex we have?” I asked.

  Oliver raised his eyebrows. “I think we both know there is nothing boring about the sex we have. I can barely keep up. Anyway, you don’t need to worry about the kids. They’re not alone.”

  “That’s not all that comforting. Now it sounds like a party.”

  “There are a load of strange men in the house as well.”

  “Not sounding any better, Oliver.”

  “Builders,” he said, smiling. “I’ve hired some builders to make a few alterations to one of the spare room.”

  “Dare I even ask what kind of monstrosity you’re building in there now? An indoor sauna perhaps?”

  “I’m converting the room with the pool table into a bedroom. That way Maisie can stay over and, by extension, so can you.”

  “Oh,” I exclaimed, a bit surprised by the news. “So we can be together every night now?”

  “Yep. I even made sure that the bedroom is the one furthest from ours. So, for example, should you ever feel the need to make a lot of noise you can do so without being overheard.”

  I gave Oliver a gentle slap on the arm, but touching his skin just made me want to finish our drinks and go straight home or back to the hotel. I started running my fingers up his forearm, and brushed my leg against his.

  I usually never got turned on in public, but right now I was ready for the taking. I was already damp between my thighs and Oliver knew it. I’d opened up to him so completely that Oliver could now read me just by looking into my eyes. He knew I wanted him right now, but he just stared at me as he slowly drank his beer.

  We were in full view of everyone in the pub, so there wasn’t much more I could do without attracting attention, but I squeezed his firm forearm and bit my lip as I did so, letting out a barely audible gasp.

  Oliver
finished his drink, so I drunk the rest of my cocktail and picked up my purse assuming we were about to leave. Instead Oliver ordered another round of drinks.

  “What are you doing?” I asked impatiently. “I’m ready to leave.”

  “I can see that,” Oliver replied. He paid for the drinks and handed me another cocktail. I stared at it incredulously as if the drink could explain what the hell was going on.

  “We would have more fun outside the pub,” I said pointedly. “If you get my meaning. Hint, hint.”

  “I get your meaning,” Oliver replied. “I know exactly what you want.” Oliver pulled me close to him and deftly reached his hand up between my legs, touching my wet panties, and then just as quickly moved his hand away again. “But it strikes me that you always get what you want. You need to learn a little patience and discipline.”

  “Oh, I’m all for discipline,” I said, grabbing hold of his wrist. “Why don’t we leave and you can discipline me at the hotel?”

  “Maybe later,” Oliver replied casually, as if I’d asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee.

  The angrier I got, the more I wanted him. That argument Oliver wanted might be a lot closer than he’d realized.

  “What do I have to do to convince you?” I asked. “You want to hear what I thought about last time I touched myself?” Oliver liked it when I told him my fantasies, and I was only to happy to oblige, because he insisted on making them come true.

  “Yes,” Oliver said. “But first, open your blouse.”

  My heart raced in my chest as I nervously opened a button on my blouse. I wasn’t revealing that much skin compared to some of the women in this place, but by my standards it was a lot.

  “Another one,” Oliver commanded.

  Okay, now I was showing a lot of skin. I opened another button, but kept my arm up to hopefully block most onlookers from seeing as much as Oliver could. I wanted to grab his head and thrust them between my breasts. Why the fuck was he doing this to me in a place where I couldn’t actually act out my fantasies?

  “Now go take off your panties,” Oliver said, before taking another sip of his beer. “Go to the toilets, take them off, and then come back and put them in my pocket.”