Matilda Wren (21 page)

The urgency in his look manifested itself in his eyes once more. The silence in the room was tangible. Every breath, every blink, could be heard.

It seemed like forever before he spoke. “No, I would never hurt you Rach but I make choices other people don’t.

I have to. It’s the life I lead.”

“When you love someone, you’ll stand by them through thick and thin, forgive them for their mistakes and you’ll never give up on them… no matter what. Everybody gets to have a new life Sean; to start again. Maybe this is your chance. Maybe this is our chance.”

“You can’t change the life you’ve lived, but you can change the life you’re living.” The profundity of Sean’s response surprised her. It wasn’t like him to come out with such a philosophical statement. He half laughed at her and half at himself.

“Someone said it to me once. I never really got what it meant but it’s always stuck in my head. I kind of get it now though.”

“I like it. Who was it?”

Sean shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t too sure on how to answer her. He decided on limited information probably being best.

“Just a wise old man… who tries to keep me on the straight and narrow.”

“Hmmm… I would like to meet him.”

“Maybe… One day”

She leant in and kissed him then, but not the fervent, animalistic kiss that came from passion. It was slow and gentle; it blew him away quite literally. He knew it would always be her for him. No one else could do this to him; no one else could make him see a different life; life without inflicting degradation and mortification.

Feebly, he pulled away from her; as much as he wanted to stay entranced in the kiss, there was so much he still needed her to affirm.

“Our chance? You said maybe it is our chance.”

She had said the words without even thinking about them, a Freudian slip. But she had meant them all the same.

Maybe it was their turn, their chance, their one shot at happiness.

Neither of them had found it being without each other.

Was the answer so obvious? Was it blatantly staring right at them? Neither had been able to forget one another. Both had searched for anything to fill the emptiness that excavated away at them.

She had pushed other suitors away, building barriers between herself and anybody who tried to come near. She knew he had done bad things, Essex was small and Sean’s name was well known.

She had worked in enough pubs, bars and restaurants to have heard the stories. But she was back in his life now and he no longer needed to do the awful things he did.

“If you want it? It’s there…” Her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

This surprised her. She knew, above anything, she needed to be with Sean. Laying her hopes on him was such an enormous gamble.

“More than anything Rach.”

Kissing her, he repeated it over and over.

“More than anything, more than anything, more than anything…”

She had him then; completely, utterly and entirely. Sean Fergus was wholeheartedly and unreservedly enwrapped in her presence and it absolutely terrified him.

* * *

James Porter looked at the time; it was gone seven.

He rubbed his eyes and sat back, in the chair he had been sitting in for the past twelve hours, staring at the computer screen that displayed a spreadsheet of data. It had made sense to him this morning, when he started to analyse it. At lunchtime, it no longer made sense and he had to start from the beginning again.

He had just been promoted to Risk Assessment Manager, at an insurance firm in Kirkdale, a few miles from Liverpool city centre. This was his first major client and he didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

Tiredness and hunger had set in and he wanted to go and get pissed. He was supposed to have a preliminary report compiled by the end of tomorrow for his boss and he wasn’t even through with the data yet, let alone near to producing a comprehensive analysis with recommendations.

Deciding he wasn’t going to get anymore done tonight, he switched off the monitor. He would come in early again tomorrow. The pub was beckoning him and sleep wouldn’t be long after that. Besides, the cleaners had been hovering outside his office for the past half hour, so he took that as his cue to go.

He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the building.

It was dark. It had been dark when he arrived at work, just before 7 am. It occurred to him, he hadn’t actually seen daylight all day. He had sent out for a sandwich at lunchtime and, since he quit smoking, he no longer had the advantage of cigarette breaks.

Crossing the road and heading towards the bus stop, he saw the number 39 bus proceed down the road towards him. The beauty of living in a city was that you never waited longer than a minute for a bus. They were never late. Back in his home town in Essex you could be waiting an hour between buses; sometimes more.

It was strange to suddenly think of home. It wasn’t home anymore. He hadn’t been back there in over eight years.

Kirkdale was home now. He had friends here and his parents and brothers visited quite often. He had bad memories of the last time he was there, sitting in his bedroom with Rachel.

He didn’t ever want to go back. He didn’t want to think about her either. She broke his heart. He really had been in love, although he had never told her. He knew he was the rebound shag to her, but he would have gladly taken any attention she threw his way.

He was scared when they found out she was pregnant; he was the first to admit that. But he would have come round to the idea. He would have been there for her and the baby.

She had frozen him out though, went and had an abortion, without discussing it with him. It was his baby too.

Didn’t he get a say in it? She blanked him out after that.

She wouldn’t return his calls or his texts. So he came back to Liverpool, finished his apprenticeship and had been working for O’Donnell Insurers ever since. He had done well there too. It was just in this new role, he was struggling a bit.

He watched the lights from the shops whiz past from the bus window; their colours hurtling into one another, shattering and exploding into fragments of bright white.

There were still lots of people milling around the streets; dashing along in a hasten mode or dawdling in a sluggish, deliberate manner. A man carrying a billboard, advertising a second hand book sale, smiled at him as the bus sailed past. James didn’t smile back. He ignored him and carried on staring; nothing making an impact, or dragging his attention to anywhere else but here.

All he was thinking about was getting to the bar and sinking a few pints, so when the bus came to a screeching halt, James nearly fell off the seat. He silently cursed as he settled himself again. More passengers got on. An elderly lady sat herself down next to him. The smell of urine was overpowering. It made his eyes water and he instinctively put his hand to his face to try and mask it.

The ammonia nestled into every pore of his nose; how did people get themselves into this state he wondered. He got off the bus two stops early and walked the rest of the way to the pub, no longer able to stand the odour that had permeated the enclosed space. It was a busy night and he had to fight his way through the crowd to reach the bar.

It was one of those places that had recently under gone a refurbishment, so from the outside it looked like a traditional English public house, but when you stepped inside you were bombarded with modernity; laminate flooring, glass display cabinet’s and black and chrome finishing’s.

Mirrored pillars replaced the original dark oak style and big lounger sofa’s were strewn in unorganised fashions; not a bar stool or wobbly table, steadied with beer mats, in sight.

As he waited to be served, he finally caught a glimpse of why he was in such a rush to get there.

She was a mirage as far as he was concerned, a complete fantasy. With long curly hair, the brightest red you had ever seen and florescent green eyes that seemed to sparkle in the glowing light. She was the first woman to have caught his attention since he had moved here. In fact, she was the first woman since Rachel.

Meeting her a few months ago, when she had started working at the pub, was an answer to his prayers; not that he was religious. But if he was, he was certain this girl was it.

James was the sort of person that accepts what life dishes out to him. He didn’t try to change things he wasn’t happy with, or prevent things he didn’t want from happening; preferring to just observe from a distance and accept.

If he was completely honest with himself, he wasn’t happy. He was forlorn in Kirkdale. He was miserable and lost and isolated from his family and friends. It had been his choice, but that didn’t make it any easier. He was too proud or too scared to go back. He wasn’t sure which one and his accepting disposition just made it all the more worse.

They had spoken a bit over those months, the pretty girl with the cardinal, ruby, red hair that emitted passion. It was the colour James thought of when he thought of love. It’s vibrancy, brutal with aspiration and expectation. It had just been general chitchat but lately James began wondering if it could lead to something else. Her name was Jane Fitzgerald and she was originally from Romford in Essex.

James supposed this was why he was initially attracted to her. She was a little bit of home for him, although James no longer thought of Essex as home. But as soon as he had heard her accent, he had to talk to her. He did not know why, just knew that he had to and since that day he had been popping into the pub every night, for a few drinks and to see her.

She smiled as she saw him. Finishing up clearing the table and picking up the empty glasses, she walked towards him, still smiling and still holding his gaze.

“James, you made it!” The exclamation was as if she had been waiting for him to come in. She seemed pleased to see him, he thought, almost excited in fact. This thought made his stomach do somersaults.

“Yeah, eventually. It felt like the bus was never gonna get here though!”

“Well, you are here now and I am glad, because that means I can have a drink with you. I am just about to finish and I have a large glass of wine with my name on it!”

“That’s great… I mean…” James was very aware he suddenly sounded eager. He knew he was grinning like a Cheshire cat but couldn’t stop himself. “I mean…” He faltered.

Jane laughed. “How about you grab that table I just cleared and I’ll bring the drinks over?”

James just nodded and cursed himself silently. Now she was going to think he was some sort of love struck puppy, he thought.

This was, in fact, the exact impression Jane had of him, but in Jane’s eyes it was not a detrimental insult. A love sick puppy was just what she was looking for; someone kind and caring.

She saw that in James. She didn’t know why. She hardly knew him but she would like to get to know him better. He seemed lost somehow, trying to survive in the big bad city.

It is how she felt. It is how she had felt since she had arrived here five years ago; lost, alone and scared.

Blocking out the thoughts in her head was an instant reaction she had learnt, to not let herself think about her life before. That girl no longer existed, Jane told herself. She was dead and buried, keep her that way. It was how she managed to keep living and surviving. It had given her protection over the last few years.

She wasn’t that girl anymore, that girl who did an awful, awful thing. She was somebody else now. She reinvented herself and had almost come to like the new girl. It was the new girl that the nice guy sitting opposite her was interested in and Jane was determined to only ever let him see that one. She knew he would not want to be anywhere near the other girl. She was tainted and damaged and carried an appalling secret around with her. Jane was certain that James would not be smiling at her, like he was right now, laughing and enjoying her company, if he knew who she really was.

“Is everything okay?” He sensed that the atmosphere had changed and the distant look in her eyes had not gone unnoticed either.

Jane smiled at him and looked into his face for a few seconds. “It will be.”

“Is there anything I can do?” The offer was sincere, she knew that and she appreciated it. He really was a lovely man, she thought. She picked up her glass of wine and took a small sip of the cold liquid.

“You’re doing it.” She smiled shyly and her eyes dropped from his gaze.

He thought she was exquisite. Her long red hair fell across her shoulders and partially obscured small but spherical breasts that were squeezed into a low cut, figure hugging blouse, which sported the pub logo; the loose curls that hung over her eyes framed her face perfectly.

“Can I take you out for dinner or something?” James was more shocked and scandalized than anyone when he heard the words come out of his mouth. Where the hell did he find the confidence to ask her out? He was so taken aback that Jane burst out laughing.

“Yes. That would be real y nice.” She managed to compose herself. She finished the glass of wine in front of her in one swift gulp and stood up. Holding her hand out to James. she beckoned him with her green speckled eyes. “Shall we?”

He took her hand and let her lead him out of the pub.

Once they were standing on the pavement outside, she turned to face him. Before he knew what was happening, she leant in and kissed him delicately. It was so slow and attentive; it made his head swim with a sensation of giddiness.

“Promise you won’t hurt me.” She whispered onto his lips. It was so simple yet beseeching and insistent and James plummeted under her feminine wiles there and then. She had captivated and enthralled him with the mystery that surrounded her. Jane Fitzgerald was just what he needed.