Falling For Fin (Falling Book 5)

by Tracy Lorraine

  “Yes, everything looks fine.”

  “It was just a shock for him to find out that way. He probably just needs some fresh air and thinking space. He’ll be back,” Ruben says with confidence. I know differently, though. I would put money on him never walking back through the doors again.

  It’s another hour before I’m allowed to leave. Ruben stayed with me the whole time, although he was the other side of the room when they started putting needles in me to get blood - wimp!

  We’re almost home and not a word has been spoken. I must have looked rough, because he point-blank refused to let me drive home myself, instead insisting that he’d arrange for my car to be picked up later. He can obviously sense that I need some quiet time. I’ve been sat staring at my scan picture, totally lost in my own little world, so when he does speak, he scares the shit out of me.

  “I’m really sorry, Con. I thought he needed to know and to be there. I didn’t expect…that.”

  “It’s fine. I think the real reason I hadn’t told him before was because I was scared of his reaction. Something told me he wouldn’t take it well. He’s always been so secretive about his family that I guess it made worry about what he would think of having one of his own.”

  “I wish he’d let us in. It frustrates the fuck out of me that he won’t let us help with whatever it is.”

  “Same,” I mutter. “I’ll give him some time, then I’ll go and find him. I can’t just leave it at that.”

  “Are you going to be okay, or do you need me to stay?” Ruben asks when he pulls up in front of our house.

  “No, I’m fine. I’m just going to go back to bed for a bit.”

  I lie straight down on my bed the second I get into my room. It’s only eleven o’clock in the morning, but I’m exhausted. All the excitement that today has already given out is obviously too much for me these days. I put my head down on my pillow and continue to stare at the scan picture while placing my other hand on my belly. I feel myself tear up again the longer I stare at it.

  That’s our baby.

  I make a promise there and then that, no matter what happens with his daddy, I will make sure I love him enough for the both of us. Yes, I think it’s a boy - no idea why, but I have this really strong feeling that my tiny bump is on team blue. A little blond haired, blue eyed version of his dad. A tear drops at that thought. I don’t want to do this alone; I want Fin by my side and holding my hand. That might be out of the question, though.

  When I show my face at the coffee shop later that afternoon, I find Mum behind the counter as expected, but what I don’t expect to see is a tall, slim blonde with her.

  “Lilly, what are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Emma, but she hasn’t got home from work yet, so I came here. Your mum was run off her feet, so I said I’d help out.”

  Lilly and I got talking at Emma and Ruben’s engagement party, and we instantly hit it off. We’ve kept in touch ever since. She may be a couple of years younger than me, but it hasn’t stopped her checking to see if I was okay after all the drama that kicked off that day. She’s a real sweetie.

  “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

  “Are you feeling better?” I feel awful about not telling Mum about my appointment, but it felt like the right thing to do. She doesn’t need any more reason to worry about me.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I’ve actually been to the hospital - look,” I say, passing over my scan picture.

  “Oh my God,” Mum gasps as she rips the picture from my hand and stares at it with tears in her eyes. “Oh, my first grandchild!” she says all soft and lovingly, causing my tears to start up again. Fucking hormones.

  Once she’s over the shock, or excitement, the questions start. “Why did you have to go to the hospital? Is everything okay? Why didn’t you ask me to go with you? You had better not have gone alone.” There are more, but I stop listening!

  “Everything is fine. I was getting a bit of pain so the doctor thought it best to check it out, but everything is okay,” I say again to reassure her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t want to worry you. I was pretty sure everything was okay. I did go alone, but at the last minute, Ruben turned up, because Emma told him about the appointment, with Fin in tow.”

  “Oh, well that’s…good?” she says as a question when she sees the look on my face.

  “No, it wasn’t good,” I say, then go on to explain all of what happened.

  Both Mum and I decide that Fin should have had long enough by the time we close up the coffee shop that evening. Plus, he should be home from work by now - that’s if he went after all that.

  I jump in my car, that Ruben had delivered as promised, and head towards his house.

  I haven’t been here for years. Fin always comes to us and makes excuses as to why we shouldn’t come here. I have vague memories of the place. It’s a big manor house looking building with loads of windows and huge grounds. I’m not sure how they ended up in such a big place, because Fin’s family have never really had money. I can only presume it was handed down.

  Standing here on the gravel driveway, I understand maybe why Fin hasn’t wanted us to come. The place is a complete mess. Everything is overgrown, the house has crumbling render everywhere, and is in serious need of a lick of paint. The front door is peeling its former royal blue paint, and looks really drab. The whole place just looks unkempt and unloved, which surprises me because that isn’t how I would imagine Fin to live.

  His van is here, so I swallow down my nerves and walk up to the front door. I can’t see a doorbell, just an old-fashioned knocker, so I reach up and knock it a couple of times. After a few seconds, I hear movement inside, but no one answers the door. I stand there longer, waiting and hoping. Well, that is until I hear an almighty crash and a loud shout. Without thinking, I reach for the handle and let myself in. The entryway is huge, with amazing chunky oak sideboards and large mirrors on the walls. The once stunning, I would imagine, parquet flooring is dark and drab, and the walls and ceilings are in need of some serious freshening up.

  Another moan sounds out, and it reminds me of what I’m doing. I walk forward, through one of the many doorways, and into a huge farmhouse style kitchen. At first I don’t see him, but something moving behind the island catches my eye. I quickly walk around to see what’s going on.

  There, laid out on the floor with smashed crockery and glasses all around him is Fin’s dad, Fred. I hardly recognise him, mind you. Gone is the stocky, muscular man I remember from my childhood. Instead, the man in front of me looks like a frail old man. I know him and May had Fin later in life, but he must look at least ten years older than he actually is. His skin is grey and a little translucent looking, his eyes are dark and sullen, his cheeks hollow, and lips thin. He is so skinny that I can see from here how much his trousers are bunched up with a belt to hold them up.

  I bend down to assess the damage. He’s cut his eyebrow. I can see a little pool of blood appearing on the limestone tile below him. His hands both have cuts all over them, but most worryingly, he seems to be out cold.

  “Fred,” I say gently. “Can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  I try again and am just about to grab my phone to call an ambulance when I hear him groan. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he opens his eyes, and after a few moments they focus and I see life enter them when he looks at me.

  “May? Oh, May, darlin’, it’s so good to see you, it’s been so long. I knew you’d come back to me.”

  Eh?

  “No, Fred, it’s Connie. Elizabeth and Nigel’s daughter. Are you okay to sit up?”

  He stares at me like I’ve just tried to convince him I’m am alien from another planet. I put that to one side, in favour of making sure he’s okay first. I manage to get him up off the floor and on to the window seat that overlooks the forest of a garden. When I’m confident he’s relatively stable, I ask him where I might find a first aid box. But when he starts asking me what I’m coo
king for dinner, I give up and go hunting myself.

  I eventually find some stuff I can use in a bathroom cabinet. It doesn’t look like it’s been touched for decades, but it’s all I’ve got, so it will have to do. My hunt revealed old and dirty room after room. I saw two bedrooms that look lived in, along with the living room. Everything else looks like a dusty shrine to the 1980’s.

  I begin cleaning him up and try to ensure all the glass is out of the cuts on his hands while he chats about where we should go on our summer holiday this year.

  “I enjoyed that caravan in Paignton last year, but I think we should splash out and stay in a hotel this year. Finley and William will love it.”

  I think I’m beginning to understand what Fin has been hiding all these years. My heart bleeds for him, dealing with this all alone.

  “DAD,” I hear him shout in panic.

  “In the kitchen,” I shout back as he comes running into the room, looking harassed and panicked. “He’s okay, just cut his eyebrow and hands. I think I’ve got all the glass out,” I say in what I hope is a calm and soothing voice.

  “Dad, are you okay?”

  “Yes, Stevie, I’m fine. My May looked after me,” Fred says, and grabs my hand for emphasis.

  I look at Fin and see pure horror fill his face, and I know exactly what is coming next. I can read him like a book.

  “You need to leave,” he says coldly, looking straight past me and to his dad.

  “Fin, don’t. I want to help.”

  “NO,” he snaps, “Just go. Please,” he adds, sounding totally defeated.

  “Don’t send my May away,” Fred says sternly, and grips my hand even harder. “We’re going to have dinner as a family. Where’s Finley and William?”

  I see Fin look to the heavens out of the corner of my eye. He runs his hands through his hair and tugs so hard that I’m worried it’s going to come out.

  “You’ll stay, won’t you, Stevie?” Fred asks Fin, but he doesn’t respond. He just walks silently over to the sink, places his hands on the edge, and hangs his head between his shoulders.

  “Fred, let’s go and get you sat in front of the TV while dinner cooks.” I give him a gentle tug and he follows me towards the living room. I get him sat in what I presume is his chair, and put a quiz show on the TV. I leave the remote with him in case he wants to change it.

  I’m just about to leave the room when he stops me.

  “May, I really have missed you. Can we have my favourite for dinner to celebrate?”

  “Of course, Fred, whatever you want,” I state confidently, even though I have no clue what his favourite food is.

  When I return to the kitchen, Fin is exactly where I left him. It causes me actual pain to see him hurting so much, and I hate that I had no clue. I should have pushed harder to find out what was going on. He should not be doing this alone.

  “Fin,” I say, and place my hand on his back.

  He doesn’t say anything, he just flinches away from my touch. I try really hard not to let that affect me, but the tears come anyway. For him, for Fred, for our baby, I don’t know - but I end up crying again.

  I just about manage to keep them as silent tears, and I move over to the smashed glass on the floor to start picking it all up.

  I’ve got a few of the bigger bits in my hand when he booming voice stops me.

  “STOP.”

  Fin

  I eventually pull myself together enough to call a taxi and get home from the hospital. I should go back to work, but my head is not in the right place for that. Instead, after paying the driver, I head inside to make sure Dad is okay, then I walk out to my favourite place.

  I haven’t been out here in forever, and I have to fight with the overgrown plants and weeds to get there, but eventually, I find the tree. The tree that got hit with lightening when I was a kid. It basically split in half and it left a nice place to make dens and hideaways - all that kind of stuff kids do. Now, though, it is where I come to get away from everything, just sit and look over the countryside beyond in the quiet.

  I think back over the last couple of months and Connie not feeling her best. Well, I guess that makes sense now. She must have known. Why didn’t she tell me? Maybe for the same reasons I’ve never wanted kids. Maybe she doesn’t want kids with me, doesn’t think I’ll be good enough. I couldn’t argue with her if that’s the case. I’m pretty sure I won’t be any good at the dad thing. I can only just about look after myself and my dad; that is nothing compared to a helpless baby.

  Although I understand, I’m still pretty pissed off that she didn’t tell me. I did half the work of making it. Wait, here I am presuming it’s mine. No, it’s mine, it’s got to be. The woman said eleven weeks. I grab my phone and look at the calendar. No, it’s got to be mine. Connie said she wasn’t with anyone else after we started sleeping together after her birthday night.

  Thinking that it could be someone else’s actually makes me panic more than the prospect of it being mine. I mean, I love Connie, I know I probably don’t have the best way of showing it, but I do, and I want to have a normal life with her more than anything. Do all those things that couples do: move in together, get engaged, get married, and have a couple of kids. I can’t do those things, though. I won’t pile my baggage on to her. She’s better off finding a decent guy who can focus all his energy on her, not split it between her and his disastrous life.

  I think about the little black and white image on the computer screen. I may have only looked at it for a few seconds, but the image is burned to my memory. My baby.

  I realise in that moment that I need to get my life under control so that I can be there for my baby in whatever capacity it will be.

  I glance back at the house.

  Dad.

  As much as I hate to admit it, I need to get something sorted for him. We can’t continue like this. I’m going to have to admit that he’s fallen apart, and I’m going to have to ask for help. No matter how much I hate the thought of it. It’s for the best.

  Hours go by while I’m sat there contemplating what the fuck I’m gonna do. I have no idea what time it is, as I left my phone at the house, but I can see the sun starting to drop in the sky. I guess I’d better head back, get some dinner made and see what Dad might have broken today.

  The second I look up and see the front door open, I panic and start running. Although Dad isn’t with it more often than not these days, he’s never attempted to leave the house. It’s actually the opposite, which I am grateful for, because at least I know I’m always going to find him somewhere in the house. It looks like my luck might be up there. If he’s wandered off, he could be anywhere. I think about all the fast country roads that surround the village. I shake the thought from my head; worrying about the what ifs isn’t going to help anyone.

  “DAD,” I shout as I run into the house, hoping like fuck that he’s going to respond. Fuck, if he’s gone, then it’s all my fault. If he’s hurt, fuck. This only makes it more obvious that I can’t do this alone anymore. He’s getting too bad and I’m beginning not to trust him alone in the house.

  I get an answer, but it isn’t the voice I was expecting. Instead of my dad’s male voice, there is a soft female one that sends shivers down my spine the second it hits my ears.

  “Fuck,” I mutter as I head towards said voice. I guess people finding out about what’s been going on is going to happen sooner than I expected.

  My heart melts when I walk into the kitchen. There she is, stood over my dad, and it looks like she is cleaning him up. I glance around the room quickly to see that I’m right: there are smashed plates and glasses all over the floor. What the fuck has he done this time?

  Connie tries to reassure me that Dad is fine, but the second he opens his mouth and calls me Stevie like he always does when he’s lost, I panic. I hate that people are going to look at me with sympathy and pity.

  Before she gets a chance to say any more, I tell her to leave. Really, it’s the last thing I want
, but I can’t deal with the look that I know is going to be in her eyes.

  She fights me, like I knew she would. But when Dad tells me not to send his May away, I crumble. May was my mum, and whenever he gets lost like this, he seems to go back in time and expects her to come home any minute. Connie doesn’t look like my mum, but there are some similarities with their hair cut and size. I can’t send her away; my dad looks so happy. I know it’s not true, but it’s kind of like all his dreams have come true - or at least he thinks they have. I can’t take that away from him.

  I walk over to the sink to try to pull myself together. Having her see this leaves me feeling like I’ve been ripped open. She just unknowingly walked into everything I have been trying to keep hidden from everyone.

  I listen to her talk to my dad in the softest voice, and it actually chokes me up a little. I breathe a sigh of relief when they both leave the room, but I know my time is dwindling. She’ll be back any minute, and she’s going to expect me to talk.

  I hear her footsteps on the tiles and I expect her to say something, but she surprises me by silently starting to tidy up. I felt awful when I flinched away from her touch, but the heat of her hand felt like it burnt. I’m too raw for contact yet.

  “STOP,” I demand, way louder than I intended.

  “Fin…I…” she begins, but I know that I’m the one that needs to talk.

  I reach my hand out and when she grabs it, I pull her up from her kneeling position on the floor. Our eyes connect for a few seconds, but neither of us says anything. She goes to move her hand, but I grip a little tighter, before pulling her out of the room, up the stairs and into my bedroom.

  I’ve imagined her with me here in my room millions of times. Every night I fall asleep wishing she was here. Every morning I wake up, hoping to see her face, but I’ve not allowed anyone to the house in years. I think it’s kind of obvious why.

  I move opposite to where she’s sat on my bed, and lean back against my chest of drawers.