Trying Not to Love You - Part Nine

Chapter Nine

Martha was shattered; this living a double life was both physically and mentally exhausting. Her old friends remained supportive, wanting to help her out, and despite long days dealing with suppliers, rotas and a hormonally challenged chef, and though the constant pressure from random people wanting to buy and develop parts of the farm were more than annoying, she was actually enjoying large parts of her life back in this town, she’d even got used to the horses. But there was still her other home, and she missed that life, the people, more than anything. She'd lost her job, that was inevitable, she'd been back on the farm for six weeks, and that was far longer than she ever anticipated.

Her father was improving, and there was rumour of him coming home in the next few weeks. He’d moved to a rehabilitation unit nearer to home, so that made things a little easier. But the thought of him coming home was great, but also a huge challenge, he wasn’t as mobile as he was, he needed a bedroom downstairs. He still wouldn’t be able to work. She knew that, this gesture of hers was starting to become ridiculous. She’d abandoned everything that she knew to help her Dad, a man she in turn had abandoned years earlier. Her guilt at that was battling her new guilt and she felt as though she was in a whirlpool fighting to keep her head afloat.

                    "Come to the pub, it's Mandy's birthday,” Was all Martha heard down the phone, no hello, no introduction. Smiling she sat down and listened to Helen. “She doesn't want a big fuss, but she needs a few drinks to gee her up." Helen was sympathetic to her sister Mandy who'd been quiet since her husband had left for a Tour in Afghanistan two months earlier.

                    "Ok," Martha was glad of the chance to get out; she was starting to go stir crazy with the lack of time to herself. She'd not ventured to the pub since the almost confrontation with Scott more than a month earlier. But he knew where she lived. Avoiding the place wouldn’t deter him if he wanted to see her.

Back at the farm she spotted a couple of the tenants visiting the field they rented. As there had been more damage, this time to a gate, she had to speak to them. Cutting across the yard she strode towards them, a woman on a time mission. It wasn’t until she heard a noise to the right that she spotted Sonny, bare-chested, and as much as he tried his best to piss her off most of the time, she could acknowledge that it was one hell of a chest, battering ten shades of anger out of the huge punch bag that he brought out on such occasions.,

He paused when he saw her, and she gave him her best irritating grin, "Carter." They’d not spoken much since she’d given him the alibi. He’d told her not to in no uncertain terms, but she hadn’t listened.  She couldn’t believe he was still smarting over it; the man really did need to get over himself. A smug grin was all he deserved, and she could see the anger at that take over him. It was so easy to wind him up; as she carried on walking she had an extra bounce in her stride.

Leaving him with his head dropped, fists flaying, she finished her task with the Willoughby’s, then made for the shower.

                    Smarty Party.

That was what the text message said as she got out of the shower. What did that even mean? Helen informed her that Mandy had "suddenly bought into the birthday thing, and it's going to be party central."

But she was also reassured that they wouldn't be going uptown or on to anywhere else, they were just planning to paint the Royal Oak red, and she was glad of that as she was shattered, a late, late night would be a killer.

After a search of the wardrobes in her room, she realised that she didn't have much "party" wear with her. A ransack of the bag she brought with her revealed a long slinky black top that could double as a very short dress, she didn't mind her legs, they were her best asset, so she found some very thick dark tights, and added the heels that she never envisaged wearing on the farm.

The walk to the pub was a rather dodgy totter, but she made it thus far. With a sigh of relief she burst through the doors of the Oak, into the usual Saturday night chaos.

James was now running the pub as his parents had gone overseas, an extended trip, and he’d gone to town for this event. Banners and streamers adorned every wall, fairy lights sparkled, and the whole place had a magical feel. He gave her a knowing smile as she walked into the building, and she was a little disconcerted that he took a bit too long glancing at her legs.

Helen and Mandy were stood at the bar, and as she approached, they handed her a goldfish bowl glass full of red wine. She took it gratefully, then perched on a stool to watch the night unfold. The two sisters were the life and soul of the party, and she was more than happy to keep away from them, sit on the fringe.

Everyone was there, well everyone who was anyone in the town. Lots of very familiar faces. Most paused to have a chat with her, asking after her father now that they knew he’d be coming home in the next couple of weeks. Since he’d been in the rehab unit more locally the last few weeks he’d made fantastic progress, she told so many people stories of him walking, talking, and laughing that she almost bored herself. And in turn they were all so generous, offering help, equipment, anything she needed. They best bit was that he was now getting visitors at the unit, and that made him happy. Progress all around.

Sonny walked into the pub and immediately his heckles were up, he’d not realised that there was a party happening, but it wasn’t invite only, so he made for the bar, ordered a beer then leaned against the bar perusing the room. It seemed that most of the town was there, and it always amused him to watch how people reacted to each other.

He sensed Martha before he saw her, she’d kept a very low profile the last few weeks, he’d not seen her in here for a while, but she was there tonight. For his part he’d avoided her too. He hated to think what her father would say about the alibi, he was poisoning her life and he needed to give her a wide berth, she was far too good, too pure for him. And Carl, what sort of a way was that to repay him, getting his daughter to lie to the police.

But when his eyes landed on her he felt a jolt of lust hit him in the groin. He couldn’t remember ever having a reaction like that to a woman before, instant erection, instant interest, but she did look amazing. He’d appreciated her from the moment she’d walked into the bar weeks earlier, but tonight, she looked...words failed him.

He looked away, so not happening, for SO many reasons. His eyes landed on Gemma, she was sat across the room battering her eyelashes at him, when he tilted his head in brief acknowledgment she thrust out her chest, those geometrically perfect breasts and blew him a kiss. Sighing he offered a half smile then turned back to the bar.

And headlong into Martha’s gaze. Her eyes were on him from her position further along the bar, studying him for a brief moment before flitting away to something or somewhere else. His mouth was dry, he felt under intense scrutiny, every time she looked at him he felt as though he was underachieving, that he wasn’t good enough, and no one had ever made him feel like that before either.

He was about to leave, go anywhere but there when the door opened and in walked Oldbury.

The whole room quietened to a hushed silence. And it was almost like a movie; Martha sat across the room in direct view of Scott Oldbury, whose eyes were fixed on her. The last time they’d both been there in the pub he’d humiliated her, Shirley in the bookies had been only too happy to fill him in on the details over the last few weeks. And it made Sonny sick. Nodding to the bar maid he ordered another drink, there was no way he was leaving her alone with him. He may not be her favourite person, but he was a hundred percent in her camp, on her side.

Martha felt the hush sweep across the room and tried to ignore the accompanying sense of nausea, lifting her eyes she saw Scott, paused momentarily in the doorway, watching her intently. Time hadn’t been kind. He was a lot thicker around the waist than he had been, gone was the hunky playboy; he looked more like an aging rock star weathered badly from abusing the fine things in life. His thick blonde hair was now thinning, and his cheeks were ruddier than she remembered. But he still had that air of menace about him. She was suddenly glad that this confrontation was happening here, in the busy pub. He couldn’t do anything to hurt her. Not here. She wasn’t scared of him, but she was scared of what he could do, the power he still had. But she would front this out, if he had the slightest sniff of her weaknesses then he’d pounce, he was a wily predator. She knew that first hand.

Scott strode towards her; an intense stare in his eyes, but at the last minute he turned left and leaned against the bar.

                “James! Good to see you.”

James as usual was nauseatingly accommodating, “Scott, where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

He nodded, “business, London. Took far too long.” He gave a purposeful glance along the bar to Martha, then looked back at James, “I’ll have a G and T, and a bottle of your best champagne, there’s a birthday girl here after all.” His eyes continued to peruse the room, only stopping again when they encountered Sonny himself. They’d had several stand offs, but this was the closest they’d actually got to each other.  Eyes locked they fronted things out for a few seconds. Sonny had no intention of losing this battle, and he felt his shoulders stiffen at the prospect of pounding some sense into the man, that was a language that he understood. Then James handed Scott the drinks and he had no choice but to drop his stare, turn to the barman.

The whole room took a collective deep breath, and Sonny felt cheated.

Bastard, Sonny thought, watching the man he’d already hated schmoozing around the room, he wanted to walk over and punch him, hard, but that would serve no purpose. Marcus wanted information on him, the fact that Scott had been in London was a direct link to his ‘boss’ he knew that, he only wish he knew what was truly going on. But Marcus was nothing if not secretive. He had an agenda and Sonny clearly wasn’t party to that.

So instead he had to observe, watch, occasionally taunt this man and his gang of idiots to keep them in check and collect whatever Marcus asked for. He had to stick to the plan, otherwise all this was for nothing. The only thing contradicting that was Martha, she looked petrified, he’d kill Oldbury before he’d let him hurt her again. A verbal humiliation at his hands did not make you that scared. She was hiding something and he owed it to Carl to find out what.

Was it an act of cowardice or merely psychological mind games that meant Scott left after an hour without speaking to Martha? Without even acknowledging her? Sonny was always suspicious, and tonight was no exception. But Martha was equally as annoying, ignoring him, deliberately, avoiding his eye contact.

She was dancing with her friends, finally letting her hair down when Gemma approached him. She’d been making eyes at him all night, but she’d waited until now to attack him. He was a ball of frustration, and the thought of taking that out on her, with her, was better than following Oldbury somewhere and doing something both he and his boss would regret.

                “Take me home?” She whispered in his ear. And Sonny being the selfish and superficial bastard that he was nodded and led her out of the pub.

Martha spotted them leave, and she instantly relaxed. She was tense when he was around. Throwing her arms in the air, she let her inhibitions go and danced wildly with her friends.

                “I’ll walk you home,” James offered. There were very few left in the pub, the party had been wild, but now, at well after midnight, Martha was desperate for her bed.

                “I only live along the path; it takes eight minutes,” she glanced at her feet, “ten in these heels. I’ll be fine.”

He shrugged, “that maybe, but I’m going to walk you home. Ok? Finish your drink and I’ll just check on the back room, toilets. Lock up...”

And it was in those toilets that he found someone almost unconscious through drink. The youngster was someone James knew, and he immediately grabbed the phone and called his parents to pick him up.

                “I’ll walk on my own, honestly. You’re tied to that kid.” She suggested making for the door. “His parents could be fifteen minutes. Thanks anyway.”

James wasn’t happy, but what choice did he have. She could feel his eyes on her from the doorway as she moved away from the building.

                “What sort of gentleman lets a lady walk home alone?” she’d barely rounded the first bend when Sonny fell in to step with her.

                “Fresh from that blonde’s bed are you? Bet you haven’t even showered!” Her nose wrinkled in distaste and she added, “what sort of gentleman screws then walks out?”

That hurt Sonny, because it was true, he’d left Gemma asleep in bed, glad to be free of her. They’d had fun, lots of fun, but he wanted some time alone. The last thing he’d expected to see on his walk home was James pawing at Martha at the pub doorway. Another man up to no good, but fortunately she’d left him in the pub.

                “Jealous Martha? At least I’m getting some action!”

Martha stopped in her path, “am I hearing right? You think I’m jealous of you because you’ll shag anything that’s genetically female and in possession of a pulse?” She shuddered, “so I’m selective. What about it?”

With that she started to march off. Sonny, kicked himself, then trotted off after her, enjoying the last few moments before the street lights ended and the path plunged into darkness watching her hips sway as she strode out in those heels.

Once she stormed into the yard she paused near his door, “just because I’m not ‘getting action’ doesn’t mean I can’t. Maybe you should think about that!”

He thought of a lot of things that night as sleep eluded him, and most if not all of it involved her.