Love Me, Crazy

by Laura Burton

  ‘I love you,’ Jack said, taking my hands in his. My heart started doing leaps in my chest, and my whole face was bursting with pleasure and happiness.

  ‘I think I love you more,’ I replied honestly. Jack laughed and gave me a gentle kiss on the nose.

  ‘That’s not possible,’ he said softly. He got to his feet and pulled me up to stand with him. My legs were stiff and felt numb from sitting on the cold bathroom floor.

  ‘I’m going to do this right,’ Jack said, his eyes serious now.

  ‘When this is over, and Tom is no longer a worry, I’m going to take you by the hand and never let go, but we need to do this right, you’ve been through far too much, I want you to feel safe and have commitment from me, before – before we do anything physical,’ he said, carefully.

  ‘What do you mean? That kiss was pretty physical,’ I said humoured.

  ‘When I saw you with that ring, it made me feel sick,’ he said honestly, his face crestfallen as he spoke.

  ‘I know, but you know why I did it,’ I started, but he put a finger to my lips and silenced me.

  ‘No, it made me sick, because the ring wasn’t from me,’ he said. My breath caught in my chest as I listened.

  ‘I don’t want to be the guy who strings along the girl for years, and then asks her to marry him but only after they’ve had their third child together,’ he said.

  ‘I want to be the guy who dates the girl properly, romancing her, saving her from danger and then going to her father and asking him to marry her,’ he said nervously. I could hardly believe my ears, my cheeks hurt as I beamed at him in response.

  ‘Oh, Jack!’ I cried out, throwing myself into his arms, reaching for another kiss, but he held me back, clutching my shoulders and staring me straight.

  ‘We’re going to do this in the right order,’ he said seriously, ‘First we sort this mess out, alright? Until then, we need to control ourselves,’ I stood, staring at him not quite believing what he was saying.

  ‘Oh, ok,’ I said hesitantly, unsure if I liked the idea. He sighed, his shoulders dropping heavily as he did so. His face was gaunt and like a sheet of ice.

  ‘You should go to bed, get some sleep. I need to shower and pack my bags anyway,’ I said, glancing in the mirror next to me. My hair was messy as it hung below my shoulders and I was still wearing my yoga trousers from the day before. I felt grimy and in desperate need of a good wash. Jack nodded in response.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be ok?’ he asked, yawning at me as he did. I nodded brightly.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I said, giving him a loving hug. He tightened his grip on me for a moment and let go as I turned away. Then he walked out of the bathroom, closing the door as he went and left me standing alone, looking at the bewildered woman staring at me in the mirror.

  I walked over to the shower and turned on the dials, hot water started pouring out of the shower head, and within seconds the bathroom was full of steam. I undressed myself and stepped under the water and sighed at the feeling. The force of the hot water hitting my body was energising and relaxing all in one. I rubbed shampoo into my hair and imagined I was the female in the hair shampoo adverts I’d seen on TV. I felt irresistible and beautiful; Jack made me feel that way. The way he looked at me, even first thing in the morning when my whole appearance was dishevelled and unhinged. He looked at me like I was a queen. Someone he adored, someone he loved.

  I brushed my lips with my fingertips and became giddy with excitement. That kiss was more passionate than the one we shared on College Green. I couldn’t imagine it getting any better than that, but somehow, it did. The chemistry we shared was out of this world. We were like two perfect pieces of a puzzle. I suddenly understood all those cliché sayings that you hear from adults when you are growing up. “He’s my other half,” “I was made for him” and so and so forth. I adored him with every cell in my body, which responded to his voice, his touch and his enticing scent. For the first time since I lost my job, I was feeling ever hopeful for the future, feeling a slight possibility that I had happiness in store for me. The only obstacle in the way was Tom and soon he would be locked up in jail and no cause for concern.

  I stepped out of the shower and gasped as the cold air wrapped around my body. I pulled a towel off the towel rail and started rubbing the water off my body. I stared at the bandage on my arm and padded it dry carefully. A slight throb of pain responded to my touch. Then I secured the towel tightly around me and picked up my toothbrush. As I stood there brushing my teeth, I surveyed my blotchy face from the endless crying I had been doing over the past couple of weeks, and the red burst blood vessels around my eyes. I spat into the sink and wiped my mouth on the flannel on the sink basin and walked over to the door. Then I hesitated, making sure my towel was not going to fall. All of my clothes were in my bedroom, and Jack was possibly in my bed.

  I tiptoed down the hall and peered into my room to see Jack, sprawled out on top of the bedsheets, deep in a troubled sleep. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he frowned as he breathed heavily into one of the pillows. I smiled a little and watched him for a few moments. Then I realised what I was doing, and headed over to the wardrobe, pulling on whatever clothes I could find.

  I took my hairdryer and walked into the lounge with my hair-styling bag and makeup. There was a wall mirror in the lounge by the stairs. I unhooked it from the wall and leaned it next to the TV. Then sat cross-legged on the floor in my jeans and t-shirt and plugged the hairdryer into the socket in the wall.

  It didn’t take too long to style my hair and cover my face in light make up to make myself look more presentable. Thanks to the powers of foundation and concealer, the dark circles under my eyes were nowhere to be seen, and the blotches had evened out on my face. I needed to look normal if I was going to get away with not telling my parents about last night’s events.

  I touched the moist bandage on my arm and wondered how I would explain that away to my mother, who never missed a trick. Perhaps I would say that I caught it on a rose bush while I was walking outside… for no apparent reason. Or that I accidentally cut it with a knife as I was chopping vegetables. Neither were very good excuses, especially as it was placed on my forearm. I reasoned that I could tell part of the truth – I was hoovering and left the vacuum cleaner out, then I tripped on the wire and scraped my arm on the TV cabinet as I fell. That seemed like a perfectly plausible story. It would result in a long lecture about safety and ‘what did I tell you about leaving electrical appliances plugged in and leaving wires across the floor! That’s a death trap, darling!’ and then inevitably rant on something else entirely, as once she got through one lecture, another one rolled in afterwards. I inwardly groaned at the thought.

  I cooked pasta and looked in the fridge for something to go with it. I was not surprised to find it almost empty, the past two weeks left me too tired and distracted to do any food shopping. There was a tiny cube of parmesan cheese, and I noticed a bottle of lemon juice in the door and some tomato puree, a few rotten vegetables sat in the drawers, and a lonely box of eggs sat on one of the bare shelves. I pulled out the lemon juice, cheese, and puree and closed the fridge. The pasta boiled over the hob as I bent down to retrieve a small saucepan out of the bottom cupboard. With the pasta ready, I drained it and let it sit in the pan on the side while I went about making a tomato sauce. I took out a can of chopped tomatoes, my last one sitting by a can of sardines, and opened it, pouring the contents into the small pan. Then I added a tablespoon of tomato puree and a dash of water. I stirred in a small amount of the lemon juice and sprinkled some herbs into the mix. Then I went back to the food cupboard and found a pot of crushed garlic. I added that to the sauce and turned the heat on medium. I stood there, staring at the sauce, sitting in the pan, a lush, thick red mixture of my creation, and remembered to add a teaspoon of olive oil. Once that was done, I took out the cheese grater and grated the cube of cheese into a small bowl.

  I was washing a few dishes when Jack rounded the
corned into the lounge, his face with flushed and his dark hair was stuck on end. He smiled as he eyed the sauce simmering on the hob, a mouth-watering scent wafted around the room.

  ‘That looks good,’ he remarked walking closer. I held out my hand up to his chest to stop him coming any further.

  ‘There’s spare towels in the airing cupboard,’ I said sweetly, my eyes looking pointedly at him. He was rather dishevelled and needed a good wash. Jack blinked a few times as if he was trying to work out in his mind what it was that I was saying. Then the penny dropped, and with a light laugh he turned around and headed for the bathroom.

  The sauce was ready, so I set it on the side to rest while I finished the dishes and cleaned the worktops. I took the wet sponge, dunked it in the hot soapy water and started washing down the small fold out dining table that sat in the far corner of the lounge. It had been so long since I had company, but it didn’t feel like company. It was like Jack, and I were living this alternate reality together, that we always lived together. I wondered if this is what my life would be like if I was living with Jack. I’ll be cooking the dinner while he showers after a long day at work, and we’ll sit down at the table and eat the delicious meal that I prepared for us, and we discuss our days. I smiled at myself at the thought. I could get used to this.

  I set the table and served up the pasta on two deep dishes. Then I poured the sauce over the pasta and sprinkled some parmesan on top. I was impressed with my abilities, considering the serious lack of food I had in my house. I poured two cups of squash and set them down on the table with our meals. Jack appeared in the lounge wearing a towel around his waist. I gawked at him as he entered the room, looking fresh and still wet from the shower. I eyed the drips that ran down his defined torso and blushed.

  ‘You need to put some clothes on!’ I cried, feeling hot. Jack laughed at my reaction.

  ‘Can’t I eat first? I only have the clothes I wore yesterday!’ he said, his eyes glinting as he stared at the two plates of food steaming on the table. I put my hands on my hips and shook my head.

  ‘What is it they say in America?’ I asked humorously, ‘No shirt, no shoes, no service!’

  Jack rolled his eyes and disappeared again down the hall. I took a deep breath and focused on the table, trying not to imagine Jack getting dressed in the other room.

  A few moments later and Jack came back into the lounge, wearing his blue shirt and suit trousers. His hair was slightly gelled, and he came in smelling sweet and like coconut.

  ‘Better?’ he asked, spreading his arms wide for me to survey him. I nodded with approval.

  ‘Come and sit down, the food is getting cold,’ I said, as he sat himself down across from me at the table. He took a gulp of squash and picked up a fork. I tried not to stare at him as he proceeded to shovel in the pasta into his mouth.

  ‘This is amazing,’ he said, his mouth full of food. I grinned. Yes, it was amazing, but what amazed me was not the food. It was the fact that Jack was here in my coach house, sleeping in my bed, using my shower and eating my food. It was like grown-up make believe. Here we were playing house like nothing remotely disturbing happened the night before. I ate silently, thinking about how lovely it would be to run away with Jack and forget about all this drama with Tom. Then Jack looked up and said in a serious tone.

  ‘How do you feel about me staying here while you are at your parents?’ he asked. His question took me back, and I stopped eating for a moment.

  ‘I don’t see a problem with that,’ I replied honestly. The thought of Jack living here, in my home, while I was away made me feel better about things. Perhaps if Tom thought we were living together, he would leave us alone. Perhaps that would tell him that I was serious about not being interested in him anymore. Or would that make me off limits -the forbidden fruit- and drive him to persist even more? But could it get any worse than it already was?

  ‘I like that idea, actually,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘If Tom comes to the house again, he’ll see your car, he’ll know you’re staying here, and that will cause him to draw his own conclusions on that, maybe it will put him off,’ I said. Jack frowned with concentration as he considered it.

  ‘I didn’t think of it like that,’ he said between bites, chewing on the pasta thoughtfully. ‘I wonder how he’ll react, it would make the situation simpler,’ he mused.

  ‘I wouldn’t have to go to my parents at all,’ I offered, hopefully. Jack gave me a look of disapproval.

  ‘We can’t live together yet, not like this,’ he said firmly. ‘We already talked about that,’ he added. I nodded with a light laugh.

  ‘I knew it was a long shot,’ I said, laughing. He broke into a smile, that dimple on his cheek adorned is handsome face. A part of me sighed with admiration. How lovely it would be to see him every day, and I would make it my life’s mission to keep him smiling -just to see that dimple.

  ‘I was thinking that I could drive you to your parents in your car and leave mine here, then I can get the train back to Bristol and catch the bus here.’ He explained his thoughts. It sounded like a plan, at least then I would have a car to get around whilst staying at my parents. I didn’t like the idea of having to stay in my parent's house, limited to walking, public transport and being chauffeured around by my dad. We agreed to leave later that day, as soon as I had packed a bag and called ahead to give my parents some notice that I was going to stay with them for a few days…or the foreseeable future, whichever was applicable according to the Tom situation.

  Jack washed the dishes while I went into my bedroom and got ready to leave. I pulled out the small luggage bag from underneath my bed and opened it. Then I walked over to the chest of drawers standing by the window. The sun was high in the sky, and the trees were in full bloom. Another beautiful summer’s day, I noticed. It would make a nice drive down to Southampton with Jack. I hoped that we could take it nice and slow driving down, what was the rush anyway? Then I realised that it was only Wednesday, he probably had work to do, right? I bit my lip feeling guilty.

  I emptied my wardrobe into my bag and slotted in my make-up bag between the clothes. Then I rushed into the bathroom and stuffed a few toiletries into a small wash bag. Once that was done, I looked about the room, wondering what else I might need. I took the bedsheets off the bed and walked into the kitchenette, stuffing the bedding into the washing machine. Jack was sat with his laptop on the couch and typing away, an intense look of concentration on his face as he worked.

  ‘I’m so sorry to take you away from work, we could wait until tonight to drive down,’ I offered. Jack looked up from the laptop screen and thought about it.

  ‘That would be helpful actually,’ He said, my heart danced with excitement. ‘I’ve got a few urgent tax returns to file, and then a couple of phone calls to make,’ he explained. I nodded happily, grateful for a reason to have him stay longer. I walked back into the bedroom and looked around, searching for something that might need tidying away. Everything was in place, but for a couple of discarded socks underneath the bed. I threw them in the laundry bin and hurried into the bathroom to clean it.

  Once the bathroom was sparkling clean, I headed into the lounge and took the notepad and pen that was on the table. If Jack was going to live here, he would need supplies, and after driving to my parents and back it would be far too late to go food shopping. I made a list of food supplies and stood up, looking around the room for my handbag. It was sat on the floor by the couch; it’s contents spilled out underneath. I got to my knees and reached under the couch, pulling out the pieces of paper and makeup accessories that had fallen out. I scooped everything up and put it in my bag until I noticed a black business card that I did not recognise.

  ‘What’s this?’ I asked aloud. Jack looked at me, pausing his work as I held up the card. It read:

  Tom Malpass

  Managing Director

  National Bank

  The other side of the card had a business address and telephone numbers. I gawped at Jack
and held the card up.

  ‘Now we know where Tom is working,’ I said. I handed him the card, and Jack read it briefly. Then he quickly tapped away on the keyboard.

  ‘Right, he’s working in the Town centre, I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow, once you’re out of harm's way,’ he said.

  ‘Is it really worth the aggravation of taking me all the way to Southampton tonight? We know how to track him down, we’ll talk to his boss, explain everything and-’

  ‘Audrey, that’s not a very good plan,’ Jack interrupted. I stopped short and frowned. No, it wasn’t a good idea, I thought about what happened last time I tried to tell someone that Tom was a fraud. I lost my job. He probably has managed to convince everyone using dodgy paperwork and a friend on the end of the phone that he is someone entirely different to his real personality.

  ‘We’ll keep to the current plan and listen- I don’t want you to be worried about this guy, as far as your concerned, he doesn’t exist. He’s not a problem anymore. I’ll make sure of that,’ he said in a determined manner. I nodded with a small smile in return. There was another well-placed lie. Okay, Audrey, I said to myself firmly, easy girl. Just do as he says, and everything will be fine. At least, that was the hope.