A Different Class - 23

Chapter 23

Rebecca was settled into hotel life as well as anyone could expect, they were a lively bunch in the office, arranging lots of activities outside of work at least once a week. It had been a few weeks since her positive test, and she knew she had to see a doctor. Whilst she was sure of her plans, she could no longer bury her head in the sand.

She registered with a local GP. The doctor was a young woman, and she was very positive. She organised a scan and midwife appointment, as she had no definite dates as yet and whilst she felt she was probably six weeks pregnant, an ultrasound the following week confirmed she was fifteen weeks along, the baby would be due the following summer. As she walked home she was beaming, the photos of her baby in an envelope tucked inside her jacket pocket.

Patrick gasped as he finally spotted her, it had taken three days of camping out in this ridiculous coffee shop before he saw the reason for this stake out. Rebecca Taylor. He struggled to contain the smug grin of satisfaction that seeing her caused. She looked tired, and almost as stressed out as Nate. He took that as a good sign. 

Pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket, he searched for Nate's number. The desperation in his friend's voice as he answered the phone, the hope, anxiety...Patrick felt like the greatest friend in the world. Suddenly he had an insight into why people did charity work...it felt so great doing something for someone else. 

"I found her. Check your phone, I've just sent you a photo..." 

There was a pause whilst Nate checked his hand set,then came back on the line with a groan, "Jordan I have no idea how I can repay you!"

Patrick laughed, "just invite me to the wedding!"

For Nate the end of the week couldn't come quick enough. He was distracted, and didn't let his body have time for jetlag. Landing at the airport, he hired a car and drove the two hours straight to Bristol. Patrick had given him directions and even booked a room at the same hotel for him, and he'd never been more grateful for a shower, clean clothes or the friend who co-ordinated it all. In jeans and a t-shirt, he made for the reception and his search for Rebecca. 

The receptionist refused to tell him the room that she was in, it was against the hotel's principles. There must've been something enduring and sad about him, as she leaned over and said. 

"She normally returns to the hotel at five."

He glanced at his watch, half four. Thanking her, he headed outside for some fresh air.

Nate was sat with a pint of beer watching the road from the comfort of a pub when he spotted her, rather than walking she was climbing out of a taxi, and his heart lurched. It had been six weeks since he'd last seen her, and it felt like a lifetime. He was frozen mid sip, glass still at mouth as he drank in every inch of her. Then she disappeared into the hotel. Realising his error, the receptionist wouldn't reveal her room number he had to follow her or catch up with her, he soon dropped everything and ran out of the bar.

The foyer was empty and he groaned, who knew if she'd some back out this evening. Slumping to land with his elbows on the reception desk he groaned.

"I don't know why, but I feel sorry for you!" The receptionist spoke. "She took the left hand lift."

Nate looked up and glanced to the lifts. The display above the left hand one counted up then paused on three. It was worth taking the stairs. Giving an ecstatic smile to the receptionist who blushed, he dived for the stairs and climbed them two at a time.

The third floor opened onto a long corridor, and as he looked left to right to the empty hallway and closed door, he spotted a door, half a dozen along to his right click shut. It was as good as any. Stopping to support his weight, hands on thighs, he took a few steadying breaths, he wasn't use to explosive activities like his stair run. but his eyes never left the room. 

In the comfort of her room, Rebecca suddenly felt tired, so she ordered a pizza from room service and settled in the bath. The new lavender scented bath oil was having the relaxing affect that it promised on the label and her eyes were almost closing when she pulled herself out of the water.

She was just towel drying her hair when there was a knock at the door.

Rushing over, suddenly very hungry and craving pepperoni pizza, she swung the door open, “that was quick! How did you know I was so hungry?”

But it wasn't the room service waiter stood at the door, it was an exhausted and emotionally ravaged Nathaniel Groves. Pain and fear swept over her as she met his angry, wide-eyed and bewildered gaze.

“Nate!” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

His face was filled with fear, relief and a hundred other emotions and he struggled to form words. Eventually he managed, "I could not let you go Rebecca, not like this.” All of a sudden he seemed to regain his composure, and pushed past her into the room.

She let the door close then turned slowly towards him, leaning against the solidity of the door for support. 

“You can’t do this to us," he continued looking at her in a beseeching manner. "I won’t let you. I know about my father, and my sister. It’s over, I’ve moved everything from Wiseworth. Even Sovereign. Even if you choose to end this that stands. Their behaviour to my independence has precipitated that, not you. It wasn't the choice you seem to think it is.”

“I’ve never wanted to make you choose....”

He shook his head, “that's what I'm saying. This is about my family interfering, about them betraying me. About them not upholding my choices. It’s not you! I hate how they've treated you, but I'm not choosing you, I'm rejecting them, whatever happens they've gone. I swear.”

Her response was a whimper, so he reached out, took her hands in his, and she trembled as warmth swept through her at the intense grip on her wrists.

“Damned if you do, and damned if you don’t!” He stared at her intently. “Rebecca, tell me what this is about? We aren’t your parents, running scared and broke. We are in a different league to them, we’re independent, worldly, not naive and innocent. I won’t let you walk away without some form of fight. I love you, and I've NEVER felt like this before.”

She averted her eyes, not wanting to meet his insistent gaze, “this is over Nate, why can’t you understand that?”

“Understand?” he dropped her hands and placed one of his on his forehead. “Do you know what I did in New York? Whilst you were packing up your life and running away from me?” he asked.

When she shook her head he rooted around in his pocket and pulled out a small box. She instantly spotted the “Tiffany” logo.

“I’d spent the whole week trying to work out how and where I was going to ask you to marry me. It's all I could think about, all I wanted, and yet you want to walk away because of my father?” He was shouting, and she flinched at his anger.

“I can’t put up with the animosity....”

He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure, “I’ve told you I don’t care. We'll never visit Wiseworth, not see my family ever again. I want us to be together. I know you love me Bec, so I just want to know why you want to end this?”

She shrugged, unable to answer him, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She walked across the room to sit on a chair, her hands covering her face for a moment. the last few weeks her whole life had flashed before her, she was full of hatred, anger, resentment. None of it was pretty, but all of it was her. She'd spent so many nights thinking of how she'd react to this version of Nate. Desperate, devoted and wanting.

“Since the age of seven I have had to rely on self preservation, that has been the only thing that has got me to where I am now. I have no one to push away, no one to look out for me. Do you have any idea how hard my life has been?” It wasn't even scratching the surface of how she felt, but it was a start.

He squatted in front of her, taking her hands, “I can’t imagine no, but this is the chance for that to change. I want to be the one to look after you, the one who is there for you. But you have to let me in, you have to trust me! You asked me once if I'd be there forever and I wasn't sure then, I couldn't promise that, but I can now. That it what I want.”

It would be so easy to concede, to accept all that he offered, but there was the threats his father had made, the phone call - her cousin the threat that he was. And of course, the baby, their baby.

“What is it?” The change in her expression, the fear, the pain, caused him to panic, reaching out he cupped her cheek, forcing her eyes to meet his. “You have to trust me, you have to let me in Bec if there’s a chance of this working.” 

He hit the floor with his hand at the lack of response from her, “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go, I’ll walk away.”

Nate stood looking down at her for what seemed like an age, she kept staring at a spot on the floor. Eventually he turned and started to walk to the door, and out of her life.

Bec's body ached for him, her only thought the safety of his arms around her, the huge sleigh bed back in his apartment that was her oasis, a place she felt so safe and protected. Would she ever feel that way again?

Nate threw the door open, and as she glanced up, he was looking back at her.

“Don’t go!” It was little more than a whisper, but enough for him to freeze.

“I need more than this,” his voice was raspy with emotion. "You have to let me in! Tell me what's going on!"

The nod of her head was almost imperceptible, but seeing it, he started to cross the room, the heavy door slamming shut, locking them in, she stood and ran to him, his arms welcoming her into a tight embrace, where neither could let the other go. For an age he buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, the same smell that had emanated off his pillows arousing his senses and helping sleep to elude him every night since she'd left.

Tilting her face up to look at him, his mouth claimed hers in an instantly passionate yet desperate possession, tongues, lips and teeth crashed against each other as his hands slid inside the robe she was wearing. Pulling him on to the bed with her, they dived under the duvet, and it was a long time later that he retrieved the now cold pizza from outside the bedroom door.

Satiated in every sense, he cradled her head against his shoulder, “so are you going to talk to me?”

She smiled at him, the warmth of his arms around her giving her the strength to say, "I've been so scared...I'm pregnant."