03 Heller's Girlfriend - Heller

by JD Nixon

  Once they also left, the rest of the day passed quickly and I had a good night’s sleep, happily thinking about going home. I patiently waited in bed almost all day and it was evening before the doctor arrived to assess me. I almost held my breath while the doctor supervised as my dressings were changed, checking on the healing process. She hummed and hahed before deciding that perhaps I wouldn’t die if she sent me home today, although I received the distinct impression that she would have preferred to keep me in for longer.

  “Who will be looking after you when you go home?” she asked. “You need someone to change your dressings for you, otherwise you’re staying right here. So who will it be? I need to give them some instructions.”

  “I will,” said Heller from the doorway.

  She spun around and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. She turned back to me. “Lucky you!” she whispered.

  “No, you won’t,” I contradicted him, noticing that he was dressed for going out. “You’re too busy to look after me. Ask Daniel to come here to listen to the doctor.”

  “Matilda,” he remonstrated.

  “Heller,” I insisted. “It’s the truth. You’re out all the time. Ask Daniel, please. I want somebody who will be there for me.”

  We locked eyes for a long moment before he whipped out his mobile, snapping out a peremptory order to Daniel to get himself over to the hospital immediately. He sat down next to my bed, showing some temper.

  Twenty silent minutes later, Daniel and Niq turned up in my room. Daniel willingly agreed to play nursemaid to me for the next week or so. He listened carefully and intelligently to the doctor’s instructions on changing dressings. She then loaded him up with enough materials to get through the next week. As she spoke, a nurse disconnected me from all of the tubes.

  Heller had a date and had to leave, but Daniel and Niq waited with me while all the paperwork for my discharge was completed. I changed into some street clothes, slowly and painfully. I hadn’t had a proper shower since the fire and could still smell smoke on my body and in my hair. I couldn’t wait to get under the water and lather up. The doctor gave me very strict instructions on bathing and moving around, virtually confining me to my bed for another week. I insincerely promised to do what she said.

  She shot me a shrewd glance. “Yeah, yeah, sure you will.” Then she patted me on the shoulder with surprising affection. “I want you to see your own doctor in a week’s time so that they can check your progress. But if there are any problems at all, come back here. Can I trust you to do that at least?”

  I agreed, happily accompanying Daniel and Niq from the hospital. Daniel assisted me into the front passenger seat and I leaned back gratefully, declaring, “I can’t wait to be home again. I’m sick to death of hospitals. I never want to set foot in one again.”

  “Do you want to move in with me for a while so I can look after you?”

  I thought about it for a while – it was a tempting offer. “Thanks anyway, but I want to be back in my little place. I’ve been thinking about it for days.”

  While we drove I rang Will, but was diverted to voicemail yet again. I left an abrupt message, hoping that he’d ring me back tonight. It felt like ages since I’d even spoken to him.

  After we parked in the first basement of the Warehouse, I made slow progress up the stairs to the ground floor.

  “I wish we’d get that lift fixed,” I moaned. “These stairs are too much sometimes.” Niq rushed to prop himself under my armpit, helping me up the stairs.

  We made it to the ground floor.

  “Clive wants a quick word with you, Tilly,” said Daniel, gently taking my hand and leading me to the security section.

  “But I need a shower. I stink,” I complained. “Clive can wait.”

  “Just a quick word he promised,” he insisted and opened the door, stepping in. I followed him in, only to be met with a wall of sound.

  “Welcome home, Tilly!” shouted as many men as the room could hold.

  I stood as still as a statue, shocked beyond any reasonable thought or action for some moments, my eyes huge with astonishment. But then I suddenly relaxed and started laughing and laughing, hand to my mouth. What a wonderful ambush!

  I turned to Niq and hugged him tightly and kissed him. “How did you keep such a surprise, pipsqueak?”

  “It was so hard, but Daniel told me I had to,” he said, justifiably proud of himself.

  I hugged Daniel tightly and kissed him too, then spent the next twenty minutes gently slapping hands, receiving careful hugs and pats on the back, and talking, talking, talking. Clive and Sid were there and so was Farrell, still on his crutches. He even managed a whole half-smile, so I gathered he wasn’t unhappy to see me back in the office.

  Someone shoved a cold glass of wine into my bandaged hand, though looking around I noticed that all the men were drinking beer. How thoughtful was that? The wine was cool and refreshing on my throat, although I was pretty sure it wasn’t in my strict list of instructions from the doctor to indulge in alcoholic beverages while I recovered. One wouldn’t matter, I rationalised to myself. Or three as it ended up becoming.

  Clive completely humiliated both Farrell and me by making us stand in front of our colleagues while he gave a short but pointed speech about the importance of our work and what a difference we can make to people’s lives. For a moment, I optimistically began to think this might herald an important break-through in our relationship. But then he turned his hard, flat eyes on me, reminding all the men that recklessly endangering their lives for the sake of the job was not something Heller or he encouraged or endorsed. Or appreciated.

  A hearty three cheers from the men softened the sting of that unsubtle rebuke. Farrell and I exchanged a wry glance and then the formalities were over and the men applied their attention to some serious beer sinking.

  There was a range of nibblies on offer, none of them healthy. I scoffed down mini sausage rolls and party pies, mini hotdogs, chips, crackers and dips and tiny spring rolls as if I hadn’t eaten for a week. I wondered who’d organised the catering. It surely hadn’t been anyone living with Heller – that was patently obvious. It was probably the men. I would no doubt feel sick afterwards, but I enjoyed the junk food while I ate it.

  Someone turned on the music and the conversational hum increased in volume. A couple of dartboards had been set up on one of the office walls. The men indulged in hotly contested, almost to-the-death darts matches, with serious and highly amusing trash-talking amongst the competitors. They questioned each other’s sexual abilities, the staying power and length of their respective manhoods, and the faithfulness and virtue of each other’s mothers, sisters, wives and girlfriends. I listened in for a while and so did Niq, but I was forced to clap my hands over his ears a few times when the language became a little too colourful or the insults a tad too vulgar. He didn’t appreciate me treating him like a baby and moved away from me so he could listen to the men unobstructed by my unwanted motherliness, reminding me heatedly that he was fourteen, practically a man.

  Daniel and I danced together slowly, out of time with the music, but I wasn’t capable of moving any faster.

  “Did you arrange this?” I said in his ear, my chin resting nicely on his shoulder.

  “Some of it,” he replied softly in my ear. “The alcohol, the dartboards, the music and the coordination. But not the food. Don’t blame me for that! The men wanted to organise that themselves.”

  “I knew it! Thanks, Danny darling. It’s so sweet of you.” I kissed him on the cheek and we wandered off to find some more food. Then I danced with Niq for a while as well. I didn’t dare dance with anybody else and nobody asked, only too aware of Clive’s watchful presence.

  Farrell leaned up against a wall, watching the darts matches, so I joined him, swapping his empty beer bottle for a full one. I leaned on the wall next to him.

  “Thanks, Chalmers. How are you feeling?”

  “Better than I was a few days ago. Did you have a cl
ue about this tonight?”

  “Not a hint. They waylaid me as well.” He looked around at our laughing workmates. “It’s nice though, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It’s nice to be appreciated and I liked what Clive said about making a difference,” I said, conveniently ignoring what he’d said about the folly of risking your life. I yawned, suddenly tired. “I should go to bed. I only just got out of hospital. What time is it?”

  He checked his watch. “Jesus! It’s eleven-thirty!”

  “Shit! I’ve broken about ten of the doctor’s rules already,” I said guiltily. “I better go. I really need a shower. See you later, Farrell.”

  “Later, Chalmers.”

  I slipped out without attracting any attention and promptly ran into Heller making his way up from the basement. He stood on the landing casting his head in puzzlement towards the raucous noise seeping from behind the closed security door.

  “Matilda? What are still you doing up? You should be asleep at this hour,” he reprimanded. “You were just discharged from hospital.”

  “I’m going to bed now.”

  “What’s going on in there?” he asked, indicating the security section.

  “I’m going to bed,” I repeated and walked up the stairs as fast as I could. He could find out what had been happening in his absence by himself. Obviously, nobody had expected him home so early and nobody had told him what was going to take place. He could sort it out with the men.

  I let myself into my flat and headed straight for the shower. I put on the plastic gloves the doctor had given me and the plastic wraps for the bandages on my arms and stood under the water for ages. It felt so good, if just a little bit painful on my still pink skin. I washed my hair free of all the smoke smell and gently rubbed my skin with the expensive handmade scented soap that I preferred. Afterwards I carefully patted myself dry, combed my hair, applied a moisturiser liberally to my poor skin and slipped into some clean, fresh pyjamas. I brushed my teeth, flossed, gargled, rinsed and climbed gratefully into my soft, supportive bed with its crisp sheets and fell asleep immediately.

  A few hours later a noise in my flat woke me up. I listened again, my heart pounding, then relaxed when I realised that I recognised my prowler. A second later Heller walked into my bedroom, dressed in nothing but the boxers he normally wore to bed when I was staying with him.

  “You have to stop doing this, Heller. You woke me up and I’m very tired,” I complained wearily.

  “I’m sorry, my sweet, but I really needed to see you. I only meant to be here for a minute.” He sat on the bed.

  “What? You were going to come in here, look at me, then go away? Why would you bother doing that?”

  “Just to make sure you were okay. I woke up thinking about you and I started worrying. I needed to check on you.” He stroked my hair. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you were staying with me.”

  “It’s not right to do that any more. You have a girlfriend now and I have a boyfriend.”

  “What makes you think she’s my girlfriend? I’ve never said that. And as for your boyfriend, well, what’s happened to him? He didn’t visit you in hospital. Has he even rung you to see if you’re all right?”

  “No,” I said in a small voice. “I couldn’t get hold of him. I left a message. I guess he’s been busy.”

  “What could be more important than you?”

  “You seem to find plenty of things that are,” I retorted with unhidden resentment.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “What is in life, Heller? Now, please, I really need to sleep. Goodnight.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me about what was planned for tonight? I would have liked to have been there. You and Farrell deserve to be publicly recognised by your boss.”

  “I don’t know,” I snapped in frustration. “I didn’t even know it was going to happen. You should ask your men that question. Maybe they didn’t think you’d approve. Maybe they thought you were too busy socialising with the woman who’s not your girlfriend and didn’t have time for anyone else. Now please, can you leave? I need to sleep.”

  He turned and left quietly.

  Chapter 18

  After another few weeks of convalescing, including a check-up with Dr Kincaid where I received the all-clear, Heller deemed me well enough to go back to work. I was mostly recovered, only a few small patches remaining on some of the worst burns, and my skin had returned to normal.

  Heller called Clive and me to his office. We came in and sat down. He smiled at us.

  “I have a new assignment for next week. Very high profile. Yoni Lemere will be in the city for approximately one week from Saturday.”

  Yoni Lemere! She was an ex-pat Hollywood A-lister and this assignment would be my first encounter with a real celebrity, although I’d worked for famous people before. The media would go wild on her return, especially as she had recently, and very acrimoniously, broken up with her second husband, another actor. He’d walked out on her for his sexy young co-star after they’d both strenuously denied any marriage problems for months beforehand. She hadn’t handled the split with great dignity, being filmed by the paparazzi, exceedingly drunk and only half-dressed, yelling abuse at him from the street outside his house in the middle of the night. It had become a YouTube sensation and her creative use and extensive knowledge of curse words had equally amused and shocked the world.

  “She’s here doing publicity for her new movie, including attending its premiere, as well as some charity work. She needs a security team, about six men, with her whenever she’s in public, which will be frequently. She also wants someone with her at all times, so I’m afraid that means another sleep-over job for you, Matilda.”

  “Good,” I blurted out without thinking. His expression was unreadable. There was nothing I would love more than to be safely away from any prospect of having to listen to further long and boring exaltations about Vanessa.

  “Clive, can you work out the roster for the security detail and let me know by tomorrow so we can give the men some advanced warning.”

  “No problems, Boss,” Clive grunted and left. I was about to leave as well, when he shook his head.

  “Stay please, Matilda.” I flopped back in my chair. “Do you want to come on site visits with me today?”

  Normally I’d have loved to do that and would have said yes in a blink. And truth be told, I badly missed being with him. But then I thought about all that time in the car together and remembered the last site visits I’d done with him when he’d talked about Vanessa endlessly.

  I stood up, shaking my head in refusal, and left his office without speaking, returning to my desk. And although it made me miserable to turn him down, I literally just couldn’t keep talking about Vanessa any more. I’d told him what I thought about her, he disagreed, and as far as I was concerned there was nothing more to say on the matter. He wouldn’t listen to me and I didn’t want to listen to him.

  He set off for the day, throwing me a troubled glance on the way out. As I had no assignment, I helped Daniel with the mountains of filing he allowed to accumulate until they formed an enormous paper tower threatening to topple with any breath of wind. He then handed me a stationery-shopping list and, for the first time since our accident, Niq and I drove together.

  He was his usual chatty self, but his eyes darted to the side mirror constantly and he clutched the armrest with a death grip. It was up to me to assume a calm, uncaring demeanour to reassure him, no matter how much my own nerves jangled. And I think I did a credible job helping him relax, but I didn’t seem to be able to stop my eyes from constantly flicking to the rear view mirror. We safely reached the warehouse-sized office supply store and had a disturbingly fun time replenishing the office’s stationery. On our return, I restocked the stationery cupboard, tidied the office area, wiped down the coffee machine, cleared out the fridge, washed up all the cups, plates and cutlery that had amassed in the sink and cleaned the office bathroom.

  I took advanta
ge of Heller’s absence to visit my parents that evening, and craftily arranged it so I was there in time for dinner. It was a happy surprise to find them babysitting my two little nieces that evening. They were all delighted to see me, especially Puddles, Mum’s over-excitable little silky terrier, who showed me just how happy he was to see me by peeing on my shoes.

  After cleaning them for me, with so much tender scolding of the tiny canine that he thought he’d done something good, Mum turned her fussing to me. She exclaimed in horror over my remaining wounds and I had to spend a few awkward moments explaining to them about the fire. Once that whirlpool of worry had been damped down, she started on how thin I was. I assured her it was from exercise, not from starving myself, and demonstrated by polishing off an enormous dinner. Then I played Snap with my nieces, helped them take their baths and read to them, each of them giving me a sweet little kiss and hug as I tucked them into the beds that my brothers had used when they were kids. It tugged at my heart that I didn’t see them more often. My other brother, Sean, and his wife Elise, had yet to become parents, not that I caught up with them much either.

  I spent the rest of the evening sitting on the lounge with my folks, looking at photos from their recent trip to the mountains. There were a lot of photos of mountains. And trees. And then, just to mix it up, mountains with trees on them and trees with mountains in the background. I stifled a yawn and discreetly checked my watch. It was growing quite late so I gladly made my excuses, picking up my handbag from where I’d carelessly tossed it in the foyer on my arrival.

  I checked my phone. Oh dear! I’d missed five phone calls from Heller. I hadn’t even heard my phone ringing from inside my handbag. I rang him back as I walked to my car, carefully watched by Mum and Dad from their porch.

  “Where have you been, Matilda?” He sounded angry and upset. “No one knew where you were. I’ve been ringing you for hours.”