What about you? - 6

Chapter 6

Despite it being a fairly unassuming pub, no sooner had they sat than a young boy who could only have been in his late teens, appeared at their table with a note pad, and glanced at them from under his jet black asymmetrical hair.

                “Can I get you anything?”

Mason smiled, pleased that waiter service prevented them from being separated whilst he ordered drinks, he had the idea that Kate would leave if she got half a chance. “A bottle of red wine, Rioja I think, and food menus?”

The boy nodded and disappeared.

Kate was surprisingly flattered by his ‘alpha male’ approach to ordering. She thought she’d have lashed out, been angry, but it had been a long long time since anyone had taken control and done things for her and she felt for a moment like a princess, protected and cared for, rather than the anger she’d imagined she’d feel.

Sighing she relaxed into the chair and watched Mason as he poured the wine then handed her both a glass and a menu. This was his idea, so she’d leave the conversation to him. Sipping the wine she murmured in appreciation, it was rich and fruity without being too heavy or overpowering, he’d definitely hit home with a Spanish red.

Mason was struggling to concentrate around her, every inch of his body was aware of every inch of hers. The little things she did, her fingers tucking stray hair behind her ear, the way she bit her bottom lip nervously, all dragged up erotic memories of that night weeks ago, the night that had become the bench mark for all others.

He’d been devastated when he woke to an empty room. The empty thud in his chest had remained since that moment. Asleep with her in his arms he’d made so many plans. He’d been in Dubai for years, made more than a success of his life, his mother had been nagging him to come home since her husband had died, and with him the animosity and anger towards Mason. He’d been swayed a little by the sight of his aging mother, and that explosive night with Kate had only added to that. He’d woken so full of optimism, thinking of new times, a change, only to find it crash around his ears within a second.

He’d returned to his home, to the plush lifestyle that he couldn’t imagine leaving until the second he set eyes on her, and it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied.

Seeing her again made him realise that it wasn’t JUST good sex. He’d connected with her in a way he hadn’t before, and as he sat across the table from the silent Kate, he didn’t know how to express how devastating his life was without her in it.

The silence continued as they perused the menu and sipped at the wine. Mason waved the young waiter away as they were still yet to decide, then Mason finally looked at her.

                “Kate, I don’t want this to end now, I want to see you again. I don’t know why you ran away or why you’re so desperate to push me away, but I can’t just roll over and accept that. I know you feel the same!”

He reached for her hand and she flinched snatching it free of him. He wasn’t sure whether she was offended, or as affected by the contact as he was, either way she was anything but immune to him. He took that as a good sign.

As a response she shook her head, “it was fun. You’re a nice guy, but sorry, there’s no life left in this.”

The waiter disturbed the tension and took their orders, Mason couldn’t think of eating anything, but he did choose a steak sandwich, then watched in amazement as Kate ordered fish and chips. He wasn’t sure if it was her appetite in the middle of so much tension that astounded him, or the fact that she actually ate normal food. The women he’d dated albeit briefly in Dubai were about as likely to refuse a gift as they were to actually eat food in front of him.

                “I don’t believe you Kate. I’m sorry. The other night...well it was amazing. And I don’t get into situations like this likely. Can’t we just try a few dates? See how we get along? I’m not suggesting marriage, I’m not a psycho stalker, I just can’t turn my back on something as special as this.” Mason gasped at his own honesty, he was pleading, begging for another chance and he should’ve been embarrassed, but he wanted this too much to care about that.

She was still determined, but he had no idea how difficult it was for her to hang on to the little control she had left. Kate was never more relieved than when the huge plate of fish and chips were deposited in front of her, complete with a huge bowl of what looked like home made tartare sauce, in times of stress she definitely found comfort in food. With a groan of appreciation she reached for a thick wedge of potato and ate it, savouring every moment, it was only then she realised that she hadn’t eaten all day, she’d worked through lunch, hoping that she could get home early for a bath and early night...so much for that. After a few mouthfuls she realised that Mason was sat back observing her, not touching his own food.

                “Not hungry?” she asked, hoping to draw attention from her rapidly emptying plate.

He shrugged, “suddenly I don’t have a great appetite.”

Placing down her knife and fork, she looked at him, “now you’ve made me feel like an insensitive cow!”

With a half sigh he picked at a piece of tomato sat on his place and popped it in his mouth.

After another few mouthfuls she stopped again, this was so awkward, the silence stretched out in front of them and it had now affected Kate’s appetite too.

                “I don’t know what you want me to say!” she announced.

                “All I want is you to agree that there’s more than a night of great sex between us.”

It all came back to him wanting more than she could offer, “you’re fun Mason, and I like you, but I tried to tell you in the hotel, there’s someone else, what happened never should have, and no amount of meals, talking and debating will change that. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I’ve never promised anything more.”

Mason felt the words cut through him like a knife, “I don’t believe that Kate. If you loved someone else you’d not have let anything happen between us. So either you really are a heartless cruel bitch who enjoys leading on as many men as she can, OR you’re lying to me for some reason.”

She smiled at him and he felt the shutters come down on any conversation, “you’re right Mason, I’m a first class bitch and you were just part of my plan! Now it’s a closed chapter. I’m too busy for this.” Pushing away her plate, she stood and pulled on her coat, with a smile that offered regret, then she left.

Mason could have chased after her, but he was too busy trying to decipher his way through all that she’d said and done. He didn’t believe she was the bitch she admitted to being, there was something else happening and he had to get to the bottom of it. He also knew he was risking his own sanity in pursuing her, but it was the only option he could consider.

Leaning back in his seat he thought back to the wedding, the way her mother and brother were with her, even Roger’s speech...there was a sense of pity linked to her and he knew that was what was behind her refusal to contemplate him.  There was nothing else for it; he’d speak to Roger, Paula and Kate’s brother Stuart if he had to. But he would get to the bottom of this.

Kate had left the pub at a run, wanting to put as much distance between her and Mason, it had taken every ounce of her energy to hurt him again, to walk away, but she’d done it. Hopefully she’d never see him again, the temptation would be gone and she could go back to being Kate. Just Kate.

Instead of turning left and heading for the tube station, she turned right, cutting through the London streets until she saw the familiar ornate building in the distance. Wednesday was not her night to come here, and she knew it was guilt that had dragged her there. With heavy feet she approached the doors. Stopping on the raised doorstep she rang the bell and as she waited rifled through her bag. Finding the rather understated diamond ring and sliding it on to her ring finger, she was smiling and transformed as the door opened.

                “Kate!” the smartly dressed woman who opened the door exclaimed. “We didn’t expect you tonight. Peter will be pleased!”

Kate grinned, “I was in the area...you know how it is. How’s he been?”

The woman shrugged, “he was very upset earlier. His mother was due in today but apparently she’s not well, so couldn’t. So he wasn’t pleased. You know how he is with routine.”

Kate’s heart sank, she knew exactly how much routine mattered to Peter. She’d have to phone Clarissa later, if she was ill then Kate would bear the load, as usual. She knew that, and it’d be hard.

Up the stairs and along a corridor she paced the familiar route through Brentfort Residential Home until she came to room 224. Knocking briefly she peered around the door, taking a second to read the situation before an excited ‘KATE!” bellowed across the room.

Peter was sat in bed, a young male carer trying his best to read to him, but she knew how hard a task this could be, he was so hard to please.

                “Shall I take over Peter?”

He nodded, leaning back against the pillows triumphantly, “you can go!” He snarled at the man. “Now!”

                “Don’t be rude Peter!” she chided smiling apologetically at the carer. As he left the room she sat beside him and took over the book. Glancing at the cover, she sighed, he’d read or had read to him every night for six years The Twits by Roald Dahl, and every night he laughed and groaned at the same lines. It should be easy to re read the same book, but unfortunately there was a distinct way he liked it read, and she was by far the best in his eyes. “How far had you got?” she asked, knowing he’d remember the exact word.

                “The birds in the trees Kate, the birds in the trees!”

Smiling she mimicked her version of the voice of Mr Twit and carried on the story.

Half an hour later he was fast asleep, his dark hair falling over his eyes, the angelic look that she’d fallen in love with etched on his face. Stroking his hair, she stooped to kiss his forehead. He’d been such a beautiful man before that day, the day that would forever be ingrained in her mind, it had taken his youth, his vitality, and in a horrendous twist of fate, he now had the mental age of a nine year old. The rest of her life would see her tied to an eternally petulant and childish boy, and there was nothing she could do about it.