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Rebellion of a Chalet Girl: (A Novella) (Ski Season, Book 5)

Page 7

by Lorraine Wilson


  Some people weren’t lucky enough to be born into privilege and for whatever reason failed to rise to the top for lack of opportunity. But with a little help and someone to believe in them…

  Tash needs me to believe in her. But she’s clearly damaged. Can she really cope with a short fling? What if I end up damaging her even more? Perhaps sleeping with her was selfish.

  The whispered thoughts troubled him. If he said he hadn’t time to deal with anything complicated, wasn’t he being hypocritical? What was the point of writing the bloody book to help all these hypothetical people if he wasn’t prepared to help an actual person who needed him?

  Because the one thing he was sure of was that Tash did need him.

  Nate opened the Word document again and began to write.

  “Didn’t take Nate long to avail himself of the facilities on offer, did it?”

  Tash paused in the kitchen doorway with a full rubbish sack in her hand when she heard someone talking.

  That’s Madeleine’s voice.

  She hesitated when the comment was followed by laughter. Listening at doors wasn’t really her thing. Usually if she heard anyone talking about her she’d walk straight up to confront them, verbal attack being the best form of defence. But this time, being direct wasn’t going to get her what she wanted - information.

  “He’s hardly going to take her to a Downing Street reception as his plus one, is he? Can you imagine?”

  A male voice replied. “Perhaps she’s going to be one of his projects.”

  Tash wasn’t sure who the second voice belonged to, but then it hardly mattered whether it was Robert or Greg. The comment stung. A familiar hardness crept into her heart and her features stiffened.

  “Well she’s not exactly going to be his girlfriend,” Madeleine said scornfully. “Can you imagine? Highly unsuitable.”

  Teeth clenched, she entered the main living area to find Madeleine, Robert and Greg lingering over coffee at the table, laptops and BlackBerries strewn across the table.

  “Hi guys, have you got everything you need?” Tash asked them briskly in an over-bright tone, forcing a smile to her lips.

  They nodded, but only Greg had the grace to look abashed. Madeleine looked at Tash like she ought to be putting herself into the rubbish sack too.

  Bastards.

  “Great, well I’ll just get on with taking out the rubbish then,” Tash responded, making sure to hold her head high. She avoided the temptation to rearrange her fingers into a V sign on the rubbish sack. It was difficult to control her instincts but Holly and Scott came first.

  They’re right you know…

  The whispered thought wouldn’t go away.

  They’re right. They’re right. They’re right…

  Tash gulped a deep breath of fresh mountain air at the back door. She didn’t bother with a coat as the winter sun felt warm against her skin and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She walked towards the area’s communal rubbish collection point; what looked like a normal sized bin on the surface but in fact disguised a cavernous underground container.

  She hurled the bag down into the bin, trying to throw her anger in along with it, attempting to prevent the old feelings of worthlessness from resurfacing from the dark pit she’d consigned them to.

  Her chest heaved as she tried to get her breathing back under control. She slammed the lid shut but still the familiar anger buzzed through her veins. Rage rose like a fist inside her, grabbing her throat and squeezing it.

  Not good enough. I’ll never be good enough. Never…

  She was going to be left behind again.

  Always left behind. Never special enough to be wanted for good, like Holly and Sophie and Amelia and sodding everyone else.

  Tash bit her lip hard, tasting salty blood. Her fingers curled into fists, her nails dug hard into her palms in an attempt to stop herself crying. She’d used the method countless times. When they’d told her mum was dead, when they’d told her that her foster sister Julie was being adopted but that Tash was being moved on to yet another foster family, when they said they’d couldn’t locate her dad…Oh, so many times she’d needed something to stop her from crying in front of them, officials in uniforms, officials in suits…

  The nail thing always worked, the physical pain in her palms concentrated her mind somehow, as though leaking a little of the emotional pain somehow stopped a full-on breach of the dam.

  It was all too close to the surface lately with Sophie leaving, Holly pregnant, Amelia engaged. That left behind, never good enough feeling had been resurrected with a vengeance.

  This thing with Nate had just knocked the lid off of it all. But as far as he was concerned she’d known this would never be a long-term thing, hadn’t she? So why was she so bothered? He was only out here for a month and she was an easy source of sex for him, that was all. He hadn’t even had to go out looking to get lucky.

  She was convenient, that was all.

  That’s not all it is, it can’t be.

  Tash repressed the softer thoughts with as much, if not more savagery than she’d dealt with the cruel thoughts. She wasn’t like Rebecca; she understood how the world worked. She was tough. She stood outside the chalet, her face tilted up to the sun with her eyes squeezed tightly, painfully shut.

  “Tash.”

  At Holly’s voice Tash snapped her eyes open, jumping.

  “Oh. Hi,” Tash replied but didn’t meet Holly’s eyes.

  She’d been quiet coming back into Chalet Repos last night but there’d been no keeping Rebecca quiet about the fact Tash and Nate had disappeared together.

  Everyone knew.

  “Nice night out?” Holly raised an eyebrow.

  “Not bad.” Tash did meet Holly’s gaze now. Holly looked pale, her eyes bloodshot and tired. “Do you mind?”

  “No…but…” Holly frowned. “Be careful, yeah?”

  Be careful of what? Getting hurt? Making a fool of myself? Ruining the potential deal between Scott and Nate?

  “Sure, of course I will,” Tash replied, faking nonchalance. “You know me.”

  “And you’re…okay?” Holly asked, forehead crinkling.

  “Yep, and you? How’s the morning sickness today?” Tash headed into the chalet, knowing Holly wouldn’t interrogate her in front of other people. It wasn’t fair to dump all her problems on Holly, she had enough to deal with at the moment.

  “Not great.” Holly sighed. “Anyway I wanted to find you. It turns out we can’t do the mountain cabin trip next week as Mr Campbell, er, Nate, needs to go to Geneva early on Monday.”

  “Oh?” Tash liked the idea of being in the cabin with Nate but of course there would be Rebecca and the others around too. That could be really awkward after what she’d overheard this morning.

  “So I’ve spoken to Jake and Emily and they can take you on Friday instead.” Holly followed her down the corridor.

  “Are we all going to fit in the cabin?” Tash asked doubtfully.

  “Jake’s found a second cabin nearby and made arrangements with the farmer who owns it. Emily has promised to make sure it’s habitable and clean.”

  “Oh?” Tash repeated. Her imagination went into overdrive, thinking about her and Nate, lying naked in front of a crackling fire in the wood-burner. But would Rebecca really be willing to leave them alone together?

  Stop it. Stop thinking like this.

  “You can tell me you know.” Holly laid a hand on Tash’s arm, the diamond on her ring finger flashing, seeming to taunt Tash. “If there’s anything you need to talk about.”

  “I’m fine.” The automatic response slipped out of Tash’s mouth before she’d had time to think about it. “But thanks anyway.”

  She slipped away as quickly as she could, feeling distinctly odd. Her chest felt tight, the breath caught in her throat. The urge to talk to Holly, to tell her everything, burned inside her.

  I don’t do talking about the past. There’s absolutely no point, it doesn’t help anything. God
knows they made me do it enough when I was growing up. Or tried to at least.

  Talking about past events just brought it into the present. Repression was underrated. As a strategy it had kept Tash sane. As far as she was concerned life began at eighteen when she went travelling with her first sort-of boyfriend.

  Went travelling and never stopped. Until now.

  Tash bumped into Rebecca in the dorm room. Rebecca flashed her a wounded look, gleaming blonde ponytail swishing. Tash was reminded of an angry horse flicking its tail.

  She sighed. There was so much going on in her head right now, she could do without this. She went to her locker for her make-up and then pulled out the rucksack stashed under Rebecca’s bunk. She packed the few things she’d need for the trip on Friday into her rucksack. Turning she noticed Rebecca still glaring at her.

  “What’s your problem Rebecca?” Tash sighed and sank down onto the floor cross-legged.

  Might as well get this over with.

  “You couldn’t help yourself could you?” Rebecca scowled. “You knew I liked him.”

  “We’re not teenagers Rebecca,” Tash replied, exasperated. “You don’t get first dibs on a man just because you say so. If you’d been in love with him for years or he was an ex of yours then fine, but we met him at the same time.”

  “But you can get pretty much any guy you want. It’s easy for you, it’s not easy for me,” Rebecca hissed.

  Everything else is pretty easy for you though, isn’t it?

  Tash took a deep breath. “I like him, a lot, okay? He’s different and I kind of think it’s up to him who he sees anyway.”

  “Why don’t you like me Tash? Ever since I got here I’ve had the feeling you’ve got it in for me.” Rebecca started to cry, big fat tears rolling down her perfectly tanned cheeks.

  Tash stared at her, horrified, then she edged closer, awkwardly patting Rebecca on the leg. “Hey, I don’t not like you. It’s…complicated. I was really close to Sophie you know.”

  “It’s hardly my fault I’m not Sophie.” Rebecca sniffed and stared suspiciously, not mollified.

  Oh crap, I’m going to have to give her more, really make her understand.

  “If you want the truth I’m…well I’m…jealous of you,” Tash admitted, sighing again. Today was turning into an emotional roller coaster.

  “Why on earth would you be jealous of me?” Rebecca widened her eyes. “You’re so popular.”

  I am?

  Tash paused, a bizarre desire to tell Rebecca the truth squeezing the air out of her lungs, swelling inside her and making her throat constrict. She wanted to reassure Rebecca this was an issue that had nothing to do with her personally.

  It was as though Nate had removed the stopper from her memories, broken some spell of silence and now she couldn’t stop them tumbling out. The urge to tell the truth, to be understood, won out.

  “You have a home back in England, a family who care about you, a safety net. I’ll bet they paid for you to go to uni too?” Tash looked up at Rebecca.

  Rebecca nodded. “Well yes…but…”

  “You have a family, you’ve been protected by money,” Tash cut her off, trying to speak calmly. Why did so many people with families never appreciate what they had? She had no patience for ‘poor little rich girl’ routines.

  “I suppose,” Rebecca replied quietly.

  “Well I don’t know if Holly has told you that I grew up in care?” Tash asked.

  Rebecca shook her head.

  Of course Holly wouldn’t have told anyone.

  “I…lost my family and I was brought up in foster homes, lots of them.” Tash took the plunge, the urge to make Rebecca understand driving her ever deeper into the emotional quagmire.

  “Oh?” Rebecca sniffed and stirred uneasily on her bunk but a spark of understanding in her eyes gave Tash the courage to continue. Just as well, as Tash wasn’t sure she could stop now.

  What does it matter? It’s only words, just vibrations on the air. It means nothing really.

  A familiar numbness crept over her as it always did when she was feeling too much. It allowed her to take a step back from herself. She stared at the bunk bed opposite, not sure what to say next.

  “Couldn’t you get adopted?”

  Rebecca’s innocent question felt like a body blow.

  “More than anything I wanted a family, a proper home, to feel normal. But back when I was in the care system once you reached the age of nine, your adoption prospects were pretty much over. Think about that, by ten you were finished. I wasn’t especially cute, or all that well behaved. Plus I came with a lot of baggage.” Tash stared down at the strap on her rucksack, unable to look at Rebecca now. She picked at a loose thread. “I’ve heard it’s even worse now, once a child reaches six their chances of adoption go down the toilet.”

  “That’s very sad,” Rebecca replied.

  “Yes, it is. Sad.” Tash blinked hard. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel…unwelcome here. I’m just going through a bad time at the moment. I do like you and I’m sorry if I let my…stuff affect our relationship. Shall we try and start again?”

  Only now did she look back up at Rebecca, she flinched at the sympathy she found there but made herself keep looking, punishing herself.

  “Of course,” Rebecca said. “And I’m not surprised Nathaniel Campbell prefers you.”

  She sighed and Tash wasn’t sure how to reply. She lightly patted Rebecca’s denim clad knee. “You’ll find someone, you’re really pretty. And…nice. And you have really great hair. I’m jealous, I’ve always wanted swishy hair.”

  “Thanks.” Rebecca smiled, self-consciously fingering her ponytail.

  Who her parents are isn’t her fault. And she is nice.

  “Anyway,” Tash added. “I bet I’m just a diversion for him, it’s not like I’m going to be his girlfriend or anything.”

  Please disagree with me. Please.

  “Hmm,” Rebecca replied absent-mindedly, reaching into her bag for her Chanel compact and not commenting.

  Tash’s heart sank a little bit further.

  Get real Tash, it means nothing. It’s just sex, very good sex but sex nonetheless.

  But it had felt like more. Sex didn’t normally touch her in this way, or affect her this deeply. She remembered Nate kissing the scars on her arm and had to suppress the desire to lie on the floor and howl.

  Was he thinking about her? Was it just a one off for him? Tash had chalked up her fair share of one-night stands but they had been different, they felt different. She wanted more of Nate. Not just sex but his attention, his focus. It made her feel…

  Shaken. Stirred.

  Like life was really full of possibilities, even for her.

  That’s tosh you know. Get real. You’re a disposable shag, a nobody.

  A familiar pain rose up in her, choking her, weighing her down. She closed her eyes briefly then rose and slipped into the bathroom, locking the door. She stood, resting her forehead on the cool mosaic wall tiles.

  I am not a nobody.

  The fierce rebuttal didn’t soothe the pain. She didn’t believe it. She’d been acting the part of the confident, chatty, bit of a laugh Tash for so long. But Tash was an invention. Natasha had been scared, miserable, desperate…Natasha had been swamped by pain, overwhelmed by it and convinced of her own worthlessness.

  Dying her hair had given her confidence to act the part of a new ‘her.’ Being good at sex had been a tool to win popularity.

  Who the hell am I?

  She gritted her teeth, suppressing the urge to smash her forehead into the tiles. This was Nate’s fault. If he hadn’t noticed, hadn’t prised the lid off her emotions she wouldn’t be in this state.

  If I’ll never be good enough to be his girlfriend then I need to find some self-respect and refuse to be his convenient shag. I just…can’t…cope with this.

  She swung round and turned on the taps, splashing cold water over her face. She hadn’t even noticed the te
ars sliding down her cheeks. Grabbing some loo roll she fiercely patted them away. She needed to repair her eye make up. Natasha might well be a mess but Tash didn’t do getting dumped on. Nor did she do puffy red eyes.

  Screw anyone who tries to put me down. Screw them all.

  Chapter 6

  Tash headed towards the kitchen; she needed a drink of water..

  I don’t do complicated…I haven’t got time for complicated.

  Nate’s words echoed in Tash’s head as she turned the corner only to bump into Greg.

  “Madeleine is busy, can you take some coffee through to Nate?” He asked, typing into his Blackberry without even looking at her. “Only don’t disturb him, he’s working on his book and waiting for an important conference call. He hasn’t got time to…chat.”

  Then he did look up, pushing his glasses further up his nose while his lips contorted into a smirk.

  Patronising git.

  “Message received loud and clear,” Tash replied breezily, heading off to the kitchen before she lost her temper and said something she couldn’t take back. She was certainly being tested this week.

  Maybe he fancies Nate himself and is jealous?

  Or perhaps he was warning her, being kind?

  Yeah, right.

  He hadn’t sounded kind earlier, when he was talking to Madeleine. And there’d been nothing kind in his expression, it was gloating pure and simple. Well probably not pure but…Emotions swirled inside Tash, threatening to rise and burst the banks. While waiting for the coffee machine she glanced at the scars visible on her wrist. In some ways it felt like another lifetime when she’d been desperate enough to do that. Yet today the young Natasha felt very much alive and kicking inside her.

  Mostly kicking.

  She’d been kicking and hitting out for years, at anyone she felt deserved it. Now that behaviour felt immature and unsophisticated. Survival had been all she’d thought about for so long but what exactly was she surviving for? And when would she start living?

  She bit her lip and carried the tray with coffee and cake to Nate’s room, her heart pounding wildly and her chest tight again. Had last night meant anything to him? The morning after disconnected sex was awkward enough.

 

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