Spiralling Skywards: Book Two: Fading (Contradictions Series 2)

by Lesley Jones

  “What do you think of Hermione for a girl?” she casually asked from where she was curled beside me. She managed to keep down more toast, two more cups of tea, and almost an entire packet of ginger biscuits. The food and the soft glow coming from the fire gave a gorgeous flush to her cheeks that just made me want to fuck her.

  “I don’t. Not ever.”

  “That’s a no then.”

  “That’s a fuck no.”

  “Harry?”

  “There’ll be a million of them by the time the poor kid gets to school.”

  “Myrtle?”

  I rolled my eyes and didn’t even bother to answer that one.

  “Matilda or Tilly?”

  “I like Tilly.”

  “Me too. We’ll add that one to the list.”

  “Fitzwilliam?”

  “Another fuck no.”

  “What about William then, or just Wi—”

  I stopped typing and looked over at her with my eyebrows raised. Her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes were wide.

  “Abso-fuckin-lutely not. No way. Not. Ever.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t think.” But I could see her dimple appear, meaning that she was laughing from behind her hand.

  “How about Olivia, or maybe even Melanie.”

  That earned me a dig in the ribs, which led to me tickling her until she screamed for mercy . . . which my dick liked and led to sofa sex, floor sex, and eventually bed sex.

  Upchucking aside, I was beginning to like the effects of pregnancy hormones on my wife.

  I left Sarah sleeping and crept out of the house at five the next morning to drive to Gatwick for my eight o’clock flight. It was delayed because of fog, and my flight didn’t land until almost lunchtime.

  The company I was in talks with sent a driver to pick me up from Edinburgh airport, which was a bonus, and he took me to The George, a hotel in the city where the directors were staying.

  They were already there waiting for me at the table, when I walked into the restaurant and no one wasted time dancing around niceties. Talks went well, but after three hours and four bottles of wine, I still hadn’t closed the deal. Lunch turned into drinks at the bar, and drinks and more negotiating at the bar led to a deal.

  The hotel we were at was fairly up market and Andrew Hamilton, the man who had been breaking my balls all afternoon, insisted that I joined him in a toast.

  “What’s on your top shelf?” he asked the barman. I had stuck to water since we finished lunch, only very casually sipping the scotch I had ordered for appearances. There was no way I was turning down a celebratory drink after closing the deal, though.

  “None of that bourbon crap, either. I want Scottish single malt. What have ya got for me?”

  Ross and Henderson, the other two partners were shaking their heads at Andrew, and I worries that their shared look meant things were about to get messy.

  “I have Royal Salute, A Macallan Estate Reserve, or a Johnny Walker Odyssey, sir.” The barman informed him. It was all over and above me. I preferred the bourbon crap to whiskey, but I was not about to tell that to the man I had just shaken on a multi million pound contract with.

  “Let’s crack open The Hundred Cask. We’ll take the bottle and four glasses. We’ll be over there.” He pointed to seating around the large open fire in the hotel bar, and we all made our way over and each took a seat.

  After a good day and an even better night’s sleep, I was back to feeling like shit. I still had trouble keeping anything down and had spent the morning throwing up, but by four I was comfortably sitting on my couch, sipping water watching The Sweetest Thing. I’d just managed not to gag too hard at the sight of the dry cleaner scratching cum off Jane’s dress before tasting it, when Luke came through the door. He took one look at me, grabbed the bin from the kitchen, and came to kneel in front of me.

  “Fuck me, Sunshine, you look rough. No wonder he didn’t wanna leave ya.”

  I started to sit up but he put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Don’t get up, stay there. You want me to get you anything.”

  I stretched, yawned, and shook my head.

  “Nah. I’m not having a good day. I’ve only been able to keep water down.”

  “I can’t believe how much weight you’ve lost. Can’t they give you something to stop all this?”

  I didn’t have the energy to explain to my brother the reasons why I wouldn’t take the anti-nausea medication my doctor had prescribed, so I just told him no.

  “You want me to build up the fire? It’s freezing out there.”

  “That’d be lovely, thanks.”

  “I’ll go change first.”

  I sat up and tucked my legs under me while my brother changed out of his suit and into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie.

  “You still watching this film?” he asked as he walked back into the room.

  “Only about once every month.”

  He shook his head as he knelt down in front of the fire and started to add logs and newspaper.

  “You spoke to Del?”

  “Only once when he landed. His flight was delayed because of fog and he didn’t get there till lunchtime.”

  He stopped what he was doing and rubbed his hand over the stubble on his jaw for a few seconds before turning around to face me.

  “If he didn’t get there till lunchtime, I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t make it back tonight.”

  “I don’t know why he doesn’t just come back tomorrow anyway. I don’t like the idea of him driving from the airport after such a long day.”

  “He didn’t wanna leave you.”

  “He has no issue with leaving me any other time. It feels like he only comes home to sleep lately. We don’t even eat together these days.”

  Luke looked at me without saying anything for a few seconds before turning back around and lighting the fire. Once it had caught, he came and sat next to me on the sofa.

  “He doesn’t like being away from you, but this is a new business, Sares. We’re the new kids on the block, and we need to work hard to get our name out there. You know the situation, we’ve talked about it before.”

  “I know all of this.”

  “Do ya, though? You make it sound like he chooses to be away from you when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

  “I just don’t see why you both have to work so hard or why you both have to put in such long hours.”

  “Because we’re just getting started. We knew when we first set this thing up that we had between five and seven years of hard work, long hours, and a lot of traveling in front of us. When he agreed to all of that, he hadn’t factored you into the equation.”

  “Well, sorry for existing.” I snapped.

  “Stop being a brat. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “I already feel like I’m last on his list of priorities, and you saying shit like that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  My brother shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh.

  “You,” he pointed his finger at me and then down at my belly, “you and that baby are his number one priorities—don’t you ever be in any doubt about that. He wanted to get Shain to fly to Scotland from Australia for this meeting so that he wouldn’t have to leave you.”

  “So why didn’t he?” I knew it made me sound selfish, but in all honesty, I didn’t care.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? No, I said no to that idea. Me, that was my call. Stop being so precious Sarah, it’s not like you. He’s working his arse off to build this company up. In ten years, we’ll be able to sit back and hopefully reap the rewards, but until then, it is what it is and we just have to put in the hours.”

  I sat back with a huff and folded my arms across my chest. I knew all the reasons why they had to put in the hours, but I was sick, I was tired, and I was full of pregnancy hormones. Most days I was teary but that particular day, I just felt like being a bitch.

  “Well if you’d have got Shai
n over, you would have made me happy because Liam wouldn’t be flying up and down the country while I’m feeling so rough. You would have made Liam happy because he could’ve stayed home and looked after me, and you would’ve made Sasha happy because she would’ve gotten to spend time with her boyfriend.”

  He stared at me for a few seconds with his eyebrows drawn tightly together and his lips pinched into a tight line. I knew that I’d pissed him off but I didn’t care.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? I tell ya, Sunshine, these pregnancy hormones are seriously messing with your head. I’ve never known you to be such a bitch. No wonder Del stays at the office. I wouldn’t wanna be coming home to you either.”

  My mouth actually hung open. My brother had never spoken to me like that before.

  “You’re just pissed off because I mentioned Shain and Sasha. I’ve seen the way you look at her. I know there’s something going on.”

  “You know nothing.” He bit out before getting up and storming into the kitchen. I heard the fridge door open and glass bottles clink.

  Luke stayed in the kitchen for a full five minutes, and before he came back, the fridge opened again and there was more clinking of glass bottles.

  “Finished your little hissy fit, brat?”

  “You gonna tell me what the deal is with Sasha?”

  “There is no deal with Sasha.”

  “You’re a liar. I’ve seen you, Luke.”

  “Seen what exactly?”

  “The way you look at her. You look at her like Liam looks at me. She looks at you like I look at Liam.”

  I didn’t wanna betray my best friend, but surely he must have realised how much she liked him.

  “All of us Luke, everyone, including Sasha, have been waiting for you to make a move. Even now, she doesn’t love Shain, if you finally grew a pair and stopped pussying around she’d drop him for you.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever seen my brother look so angry. Well, at least not since he first found out about me and Liam. He was grinding his teeth and working his jaw as he stared at me.

  “And you know all of this how? Has she told you she doesn’t love Shain?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has she told you she wants to be with me?”

  “No, but she told me that she’s so in love with you that she can’t breathe when your around.”

  He closed his eyes for a few long seconds.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, so, so quietly I barely heard it over the crack of the fire.

  “What’s holding you back? I know you have feelings for her.”

  He closed his eyes again, shook his head, and took a deep breath through his nose. When he opened them and looked at me, I could see a whole world of hurt written all over my brother’s face.

  “I fucked up. I did something really, really stupid a long time ago and it means that me and Sasha can never happen.”

  “But why? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s not something I wanna talk about. If I tell you, then it means I’ll be putting you in a position where you might have to lie for me one day, and I don’t wanna do that.”

  “I’d lie for you any day.”

  “I know you would. I know you would, but I don’t want you to have to, so we’ll just leave things at that.”

  I knew my brother well enough to know that the conversation was over, so I said no more.

  I jumped as my phone vibrated in my hand. Hoping it was Liam, I flipped it open.

  It was a text from Sasha.

  Sash: Hey, fat girl, fancy some company?

  “It’s Sasha, she wants to come over.”

  Luke scratched at his chin and sighed. “Tell her yes. I’ll leave you girls to it.”

  “Why can’t I have both of you here?”

  “I can’t be around her, Sarah. It fucking hurts. You’re right. I do have feelings for her, but it won’t ever happen. It can’t ever happen.”

  “I’ll just tell her no then.”

  “No. Have some girl time. I’m gonna see if I can get on an earlier flight. As long as you’ve got someone here with you, Del will be fine with it.”

  “I love you, you know that, right?”

  “Of course I do. I love you, too. Just hang in there. Take it easy on Del and remember he’s doing all this for you.”

  I nodded.

  “Now, text your crazy mate back and tell her to come look after you.”

  While my brother gathered his stuff from our spare bedroom, I texted Sasha back, all the while wondering what the deal was with Luke.

  As if they coordinated their switch, Sasha arrived to spend the night just ten minutes after Luke left.

  I woke with my head hanging over the side of the bed. There was a sour smell invading my nostrils, and when I opened one eye, I found myself staring down at a pile of my own puke.

  “Fuck.” I groaned and sat up slowly, trying to collect my bearings. Both my watch and the room’s digital clock told me that it was almost eleven. It was light outside, so I assumed that meant it was eleven in the morning, although in Scotland, I couldn’t always tell. I picked up a menu and worked out that I was still at The George, the hotel we were in last night. My laptop, and the small overnight bag I flew with were sitting on the desk, and after scanning the room for my shoes, I realized they were still on my feet. I searched around for my phone and eventually found it in my suit jacket’s pocket, but the battery was dead.

  I used the hotel phone and dialled our home number, but it clicked over to the messaging service. I tried again just in case Sarah couldn’t find the cordless, which was usually the case, but that went to the service, too. I tried to remember Sarah’s mobile number, but I couldn’t—I didn’t think I had ever actually dialled it. It was saved in my contacts and I just pressed call.

  I decided to order room service. I was starving and badly in need of a shower, so I took one while I waited for my food to arrive. For the second time in an hour, I was grateful that I had the foresight to pack a change of clothes, deodorant, and a toothbrush.

  As soon as my food arrived, I poured myself a coffee and dialled Luke, but I got his voice mail. His number I could remember because it was printed on our business cards. Then I tried the office. They would have Sarah’s number on file somewhere, but there was no answer there either. It was the office, my office. How the fuck could there be nobody there? I needed to buy a phone charger.

  I ate as quickly as I could as I typed out emails to Liz and Mel, asking where the fuck they were. If they weren’t in the office, then it was highly unlikely they were logged into their work emails.

  Surprisingly, Mel messaged me straight back:

  I’m at that relocations expo in Docklands.

  I told you I was coming to talk to the Australian building company that are here.

  Why, what’s wrong?

  I tried my home number again from the hotel as I typed out a reply to Mel.

  Where the fuck’s Liz? There’s no one answering the phones in the office!

  I cleaned my teeth and stuffed my suit into my bag, making ready to leave and waiting for Mel’s reply.

  Her nan died. The funeral’s today.

  Shit, I’d forgotten all about that.

  Did we send flowers?

  I forced my work shoes into the small carry-on bag and pulled on my boots.

  We did.

  Was all I got back from Mel.

  I’m still in Scotland. My phone’s dead. Do you have Sarah’s number on you?

  I wanted to leave and get a phone charger, but I waited for Mel’s message to come through.

  No, just your mobile and home number.

  I didn’t bother to reply. I shut my computer down, stuffed it in the bag, and made my way down to the reception. The girl behind the desk wished me a great day, and the valet waved down a cab for me. I managed to get on a flight immediately, leaving no time to buy a charger.

  As soon as I reached my car back at Gatwick, I plugged in my phone and started the en
gine. It took a few seconds for the screen to light up and the service to kick in, and when it did, all fucking hell broke loose. Text messages, missed calls, voice mails . . . my phone continued to buzz and chirp and vibrate. Sarah, Sash, Mai, and Archie.

  My hands shook as I opened the first message from Sarah.

  Pretty Girl: Hey Aussie husband, just letting you know Sash is here with me. Luke had to get an earlier flight or something and said you’d have his balls if he let me stay on my own, so I called Sash. No need to rush back. I don’t know why you don’t just get a flight in the morning. I love you x

  Pretty Girl: Morning, I’ve tried to call, but I’m going straight to voice mail. I’m a little worried, babe. I’ve no idea where you are, where you’re staying, or anything. Call me when you get this plz. X

  Pretty Girl: Okay, so I don’t want you to panic or anything, but I’m not feeling so great, and I’ve just been for a wee and there was blood in it.

  “No. Fuck, shit. No. Fucking no.”

  I put my car into reverse and pulled my car out of its parking spot. My head and my heart were pounding so hard I could feel my entire body vibrate. As I approached the barrier, I realised not only had I not paid my exit fee at the terminal but also the ticket was actually still in my suit jacket’s pocket, in my bag, in the boot of my fucking car.

  I slammed the palm of my hand down on the steering wheel at least three times and said the word “fuck” a whole lot.

  I carried on towards the barrier and pressed the lost ticket button, slid in my credit card, and paid the extortionate maximum rate that could be applied for short-term parking.

  As dangerous as it was, I read the rest of the string of messages from Sarah as I drove.

  Pretty Girl: Sasha’s on the phone with my doctor now, finding out what we should do. I feel okay, just a little warm and really sick, but that’s nothing new, is it?