The Debt

by D A Latham

  "You're welcome," he said glibly, a glimpse of the cocky devil coming through. "Now, practicalities. There's a spare dressing room off the bedroom down the hall. It might be better for you to use that rather than squashing your things in with mine. Second, we need to get you a passport. I'll download the forms, if you can get a photo done at Bluewater tomorrow."

  "Why do I need a passport?" I asked, half-knowing the answer.

  "We need a holiday. Also my parents have a place in Puerto Banus. We all go for a week in June. Mum likes it when we're altogether."

  "I've never been abroad," I said, "well, actually I've never really been on holiday as such."

  "Not even the seaside? Or camping?" He was incredulous.

  I shook my head. "We used to get a sunshine coach to Margate, but it was only ever for a day trip. There are a lot of things I've never done."

  "Then I'll enjoy showing you," he said, raising his glass to me. We clinked. "To seeing the world," he murmured.

  I decided not to mention moving out. Given that he didn't want me to look for a job, I figured he'd feel the same way about me searching for a new bedsit. The evening was so happy and celebratory that I didn't want to spoil it.

  We were both a little tipsy walking home. The golf course was too dark, so we walked down to the caves, then back up the hill, laughing like kids at stupid, drunken jokes. It was nearly midnight by the time we got back, and we were both exhausted. "I wanna see your knickers," he blurted out as we climbed the stairs. I stood still for a moment and popped the top button of my jeans. "You're teasing," he said, grabbing my hand and dragging me up. I giggled as he pulled down the zip and yanked my trousers down. "Oh, that was money well spent," he remarked as he exposed my lacy, black thong.

  "I'll let you see my bra too, dirty boy," I taunted. I began a striptease standing on the landing, flashing glimpses of my new bra. Eventually, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder before carrying me to the bedroom. "Put me down," I squealed, laughing at his impatience.

  "With pleasure," he growled, as he plopped me down onto the bed. I watched as he began to unbutton his shirt, my mouth going dry as he revealed his toned, muscular torso. "I," he said, as he unbuttoned his jeans, "am going to make you beg for mercy.”

  As soon as he was naked, he began to take my boots off, flinging them on the floor carelessly. He peeled my jeans down my legs, stroking the skin reverentially as he went. "You have such lovely legs," he murmured, "so slender and long." He kissed his way up to the apex, then buried his nose and inhaled. I began to giggle, the combination of the drink and his naughtiness tipping me over.

  "That's so rude," I spluttered.

  "It makes me really horny," he confessed, a touch sheepishly, before pulling my thong to one side, and stroking me with his tongue. I gasped, throwing my head back, revelling in the sensation.

  "That's what you like, isn't it?" He said, before dragging my knickers off and pinning my legs wide open. I couldn't move. In fact, I couldn't do anything other than try and absorb the pleasure he was inflicting. I was horny too, turned on by his obvious desire as he lapped up my juices and stroked my clit repeatedly.

  I felt the mother of all orgasms building, that fizzing sensation you get when all you want is a big cock inside you to salve the ache. "Please fuck me," I begged. He ignored me, continuing to torment me with his mouth. He thrust his tongue into me, while his nose continued the pressure on my clit. With my legs pinned apart, I had no choice but to come, my body exploding into a mass of convulsions as I writhed, devoid of all control. I felt him slam into me, filling me totally. He fucked me so hard and fast that I came again.

  He cursed as he let go, pressing in deep. Afterwards, he kissed me softly and tenderly, before switching off the light and wrapping his arms around me.

  Monica calling up the stairs the next morning rather abruptly awakened us. "Hello, anyone up yet?"

  "Down in a minute," Andy yelled. I sat up to see the time; it was half-seven, and we'd overslept. I cursed, knowing I needed a shower. My plan had been to get up early and make myself presentable for once.

  I showered in three minutes flat, dried off, and put on the same jeans and jumper I'd been wearing the previous evening. I cringed knowing she'd see that we hadn't even moved the bags out of the kitchen. For some strange reason, it felt as though I was being ungrateful. I braced myself to go downstairs.

  Andy was sitting at the island and sipping a coffee, wearing just his bathrobe when I walked in. Monica handed me mine and smiled as I rummaged through the carrier bags searching for the ponytail bands I'd bought the previous day. "Did you forget your doctor’s appointment?" She asked.

  "No, I think the wine last night went to my head and sent me into too deep a sleep," I confessed. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" I asked Andy.

  "My first meeting is at ten, funny enough it’s with your uncle," he said.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I'm telling you now. I meant to tell you yesterday, but it went out of my head, with all the other stuff going on. He's asked to see me face-to-face, so I'm driving over to his house. Any message you want me to pass on?" I shook my head, mildly annoyed that he'd sprung it on me like that.

  "Come on, we need to go, the traffic in Chislehurst might be bad," his mum urged. I checked my bag to make sure I had my phone and purse, and pulled on my coat.

  "Ring me when you have news," I muttered before kissing him goodbye.

  I decided on an implant at the doctors, much to Monica's approval. I figured it would be one less thing to worry about, given my track record with fuck-uppery. With that job completed, we decided to head straight over to Bluewater to continue where we'd left off the day before, as there was still a huge amount to get. While we were having coffee and waiting for the shops to open, I decided to ask her advice. "Andy asked me not to look for a job for a while. I can understand why, but it makes me feel a bit... useless. I've never not worked. Do you think he was just saying that?"

  She thought about it for a few moments then shook her head. "Andrew never says anything he doesn't mean. If he says you don't need to work, then embrace it. Bill never wanted me to work either. It's a pride thing. It shows the world they're good providers."

  "I wasn't sure if I should start flat hunting or not. I don't want to outstay my welcome." I knew I wouldn't exactly be thrown out onto the street if he got sick of me, but it meant having the whole “how committed are we” conversation, which kind of scared me. It was safer to ask Monica.

  "I thought it was all settled that you'd moved in. At least I believe that’s what Andrew thinks. He's like a different person when you're around. It's lovely to see. Even Bill remarked about how happy he is with you there, and public displays of affection from Andrew have always been unheard of. Unless you particularly want your own place, I wouldn't worry about moving out." She sipped her coffee while I marvelled at what a difference having a mother around could make.

  "I don't want to move out, I like being with Andy. I just don't want anyone to think I'm sponging off him," I said anxiously. She patted my hand and smiled.

  "Nobody at all thinks that. We were just relieved you took him back. He was the most miserable little devil without you. Now, finish your drink, we've got shopping to do."

  Andy called me later that morning. "I've got good news," he said, sounding excited. "Your uncle caved straightaway. Well, I put the proof in front of him, so he couldn't do much else. He knew going to court would cost him even more, so he's agreed the full amount."

  "The whole hundred and twenty thousand?" I was incredulous.

  "No, the whole three hundred and sixty. I went for top whack, so I could come down if needs be, but he agreed on it, especially when I pointed out that what he'd done amounted to fraud. I think he's keen to make that particular accusation go away quietly."

  "He'll have to sell his house though, so it'll take ages," I pointed out.

  "No, here's the thing: he was selling it anyway to move in with
his girlfriend. He's already exchanged contracts, completion next week. We both spoke to the solicitor dealing with it and he's agreed to pay it across to you in full, given I haven't had time to get a charging order on it, which I threatened to do this afternoon. I think he was planning to buy some flats as buy-to-lets, but given the alternative was a prison sentence, he's prepared to rethink things."

  "What if he just runs off with the money again?" I asked, feeling a little faint.

  "He won't. He signed a settlement contract. He knows, because I spelt it out, that if he reneges, not only does he face a fraud charge, but also the high court bailiffs. They don't mess about. He was shitting himself Sal, so don't worry."

  "I'll try not to... Thank you. For everything." I knew I'd have never been able to confront my uncle on my own.

  "All part of the service. Now, go buy more nice lingerie, that's an order."

  "Yes sir," I giggled.

  With nothing to rush back for, we cleared Monica's list, then went “off piste” as she called it, checking out the designer concessions in House of Fraser. By the time we finally left to go home, I was exhausted. Monica was as perky as she'd been at the start. I wondered how she did it. "Poor Lola will be missing me," she said. "I mean she loves her Daddy and all that, but he doesn't brush her coat twice a day, or slip her bits of cheese for good behaviour. He even shouted at her last night for having an accident in the lounge. She was so upset she did a wee in the kitchen, poor little thing."

  Sneaky little thing, I thought, I kept my opinion to myself.

  It took ages to unload the car; if anything we had more bags than the previous day. I surveyed the piles in the kitchen, vowing to spend the evening hanging it all up and putting things away. Andy arrived home about five minutes after we'd unloaded everything, so Monica waved goodbye and hurried home to see to her spoilt dog.

  I concentrated on fixing dinner, determined to fit myself into Andy's life in any way I could. He sat at the island, telling me all about his meeting with my uncle, while I made a stir-fry. I admired his ability to face down people, to confront a wrongdoing, rather than hide away as I'd always done, suffering the consequences of the liars and con-artists of the world. I wondered if he'd been born that way, or if his confidence was the product of his superior education.

  "I talked to your mum today. She's very easy to talk to," I began. He did the McCarthy silence, so I carried on. "I asked her advice as to whether or not I should look for a flat. I don't want to be a nuisance or anything and outstay my welcome..." I trailed off.

  I expected him to ask what Monica had said, but he didn't. "I don't want you to go, I like having you here. It makes me feel more relaxed. I can look after you properly if you're with me." His eyes burned into mine, "Do you want to leave?" I shook my head. "Good, in which case, stay."

  "As easy as that? What if I annoy you?" I'd never lived with just one person before, having gone from the home, where I'd just been a quiet shadow, to living alone in the bedsit. I had no idea if I was one of those people who got on other's nerves or not.

  "I don't think you will," he replied, "but if you do, we'll talk it out like adults. Whatever happens, I'll never throw you out onto the streets, I know it's a fear of yours, and I know I'm asking you to trust me after I've been a selfish dick, but I hope we can get past all that."

  I thought about it for a few moments. I desperately wanted to be with him, which meant trusting him not to throw me out on a whim. Having that money in the bank made the decision easier. It gave me choices. If he slung me out on my ear, I could afford a hotel until I'd found myself a flat. He dangled a set of keys in front of me. "I need to give you this. Mum won't be around tomorrow, so you need to be able to get in and out."

  I took them hesitantly, afraid of the reality of having to let go of the girl I used to be. With those keys in my hand, I was the lawful inhabitant of a beautiful home. I couldn't hide behind my insecurities or my past. I had to face the world as the girl I'd become. As I turned them over in my hand, I marvelled at how quickly fortunes changed, for both good and bad. In only six weeks, I'd gone from the tragic, depressed debtor in the county court to the excited girl holding a set of keys to a lovely life.

  Andy might have been a complex, thoughtless, and rather clueless bloke, but he loved me, I was certain of that. Plus, he seemed to like having me around, which was a bit of a mystery to me, but I refused to question it. Instead, I just dished up his meal, smiled, and said thank you.

  "For what?" He asked, pulling a quizzical face.

  "For the keys," I said glibly.

  After dinner, I set about my unpacking while Andy worked in his study. I pressed everything carefully before hanging it all up. By the time I'd finished, my new wardrobe room was quite respectably full. He came up to find me just as I was peeling the labels off a pair of shoes. "I've got those forms for you to sign, did you remember to get photos done?"

  I nodded towards the dressing table. "On there. They're pretty horrific though. It might have been better to have got up early enough to put some make up on." I watched as he cut one out, and then scribbled something on the back of it.

  "Just verifying your identity," he said. "It's handy being your lawyer." He handed me a pen and showed me where to put my signature, having filled it all out on my behalf. I scanned through it quickly before signing. He already had a stamped, addressed envelope prepared, which tickled me for some reason. For all his bravado and slickness, he was really a Boy Scout at heart. "Rupert called earlier, said the girl you used to work with was trying to contact you. Apparently I'm to tell you that Bessie made it, whatever that means."

  I smiled at the news. "I'll email Maria tomorrow with my number."

  "The cleaner, Janet, and her husband Fred, who does the garden will be in at eleven tomorrow. They've got keys, so you don't need to worry about letting them in. You can have a whole day to yourself."

  I awoke the next morning strangely excited to have a day off in my new home. I was used to a lot of solitude, so being around other people non-stop for a week or so, as nice as it was, had left me craving a bit of time alone. I made Andy some breakfast and waved him off as he drove to the station. The moment I was alone, I allowed myself the luxury of a bouncy happy dance, revelling in the space of the magnificent hallway. With that out of the way, I made myself a latte in the complicated machine, and sat down at the island to fire up my laptop and check my emails.

  Andy had still been sending me a song every day.

  On the Saturday of the ball, he'd sent me a beautiful video of a Russian dancer, performing to Hozier's Take Me to Church.

  "Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your life, I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife."

  "I was born sick, but I love you."

  I played the video four times. It was beyond beautiful in an angsty, painful sort of way.

  The following day, after the ball, while I was lying in the hospital, out cold and unaware, he'd sent me Bruno Mars’, When I Was Your Man, which I thought was rather fitting. I hummed along as I played it, feeling a sense of the regret he must have felt seeing me on Aaron's arm. I was guilty of dismissing his feelings, which had clearly run deeper than I'd been aware. If I had seen a girl on his arm, I'd have probably spent the evening in the loo being a blubbering mess.

  Since our reconciliation, the songs had changed. He'd focussed on love songs, sending me John Legend's All of Me, which was a favourite of mine.

  "Love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections..."

  I clicked on the latest one, which turned out to be Adele's Make You Feel My Love. I swallowed back the lump in my throat while I listened to the lyrics.

  "When the rain is blowing in your face, and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love."

  I wondered why Andy couldn't say the words himself, preferring to let the music communicate how he felt, until it dawned on me that I hadn't exactly been demons
trative either, only telling him I was in love with him twice.

  I quickly emailed Maria my number while I racked my brain as to what to do. In the end, I figured I could take a leaf out of his book and send him a love song, mainly to make him smile at work. I found a few on YouTube, and spent half an hour checking out the lyrics, until I found the perfect one.

  Eva Cassidy could say it for me. Her angelic voice, filled with love and emotion could deliver the lines perfectly.

  "For you, there'll be no crying. For you, the sun will be shining, cos I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright. I know it's right."

  Satisfied, I hit “send.”

  It was great to talk to Maria again. She called whilst on a tea break at her new job. Miss Gadd hadn't exactly sacked her, preferring to make her life so miserable and difficult over the wage issue that Maria had searched for something better. Ironically, she'd gotten the job at the Bromley South surgery that I'd originally gone for. "It's so well-equipped, and they're really nice people," she gushed, "I'm even getting nine pounds an hour, it's fantastic."

  I was really pleased for her, delighted that my own good fortune had created an opening for her to get her dream job. We'd agreed to meet for coffee sometime for a proper catch up, which I'd look forward to, as I kind of missed the camaraderie of surgery life. I'd kept quiet about my own news, assuring her that I'd fill her in when I saw her.

  Janet and Fred arrived later that morning and to my surprise, they seemed a little nervous of me, promising they wouldn't get in my way as they did their work. I was transported back to how Shari had treated us staff at Lakeswood, with her imperious tones and unreasonable demands. Being on the other side of the equation was totally new to me, so I mentally swore I'd never behave like her as I smiled sweetly at Janet and offered to put the kettle on for her, which seemed to break the ice nicely.

  With Janet beavering her way through the upstairs and Fred busy sweeping the drive, I felt a bit of a spare part. I wondered how I'd be expected to fill the days while Andy was at work. Cooking a meal each night wouldn't take more than an hour or so. I wasn't into keeping fit, being naturally skinny, and I'd always been rubbish at sports. I toyed with the idea of volunteering to help in a charity shop and resolved to discuss it with Monica the next time I saw her. My thoughts were interrupted by Andy calling. "I love that song," he began, "cheered me up no end and got me through a difficult decision."