Trying Not to Love You - Part Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Despite the late finish, Martha was up early. She did the rounds with Eamonn and Bill as she did every day, feeding the horses, the dogs and the chickens. They were the newest addition to the farm, and Martha’s pet project. She was hoping that her father would start with them, a gentle reintroduction to things, until then it was another responsibility for her.

She was making porridge for Lucy and pancakes for her father when the kitchen door opened.

Sonny stood there a sleepy smile accompanying his bed hair, though how such short hair could be so unruly confused her, and his bare chest was more than a little disconcerting for first thing in the morning. Yep, Sonny was a dreadful distraction, since that night...she shook her head, clearing those images while she still could. Since that night he’d been challenging her every resolve.

                “Sleep well?”

He nodded, “like a log.” And that was the truth. The nightmares were a long way away at the moment, he’d not been so settled in as long as he could remember. “Better than you?” As he lowered himself onto one of the kitchen chairs, Tinker the half wild cat that Martha had only seen less than half a dozen times the last three months jumped onto his lap and started to pound his joggers, settling down to sleep.

She shrugged as she watched the animal in amazement, “I’m always up early. Got a few things to do, so always glad of the extra hours. Wow Mr Charisma, every wild female in these parts seems to love you, hey? I have never managed to touch Tinker.”

Shrugging he scratched the cat’s head and was rewarded with a purr of satisfaction, “us unruly types stick together.”

Martha smiled in amazement, “What you up to today?”

                “Well I’m going to go in and clear up the restaurant before the cleaners arrive, restock...then I’m heading to Northfield, meet a mate. You sure you don’t need me to work tonight?”

                “No, I’ve got it covered, you are allowed a night off. So you won’t be here for dinner?”

He smiled, “great. No, I’ll be out all day, that’s cool. Ok, I’m just going to go for a run. Appreciate the early morning and all that.”

                “I’m making pancakes; I’ll leave you some in the fridge?”

After feeding time at the zoo, and cleaning up all the puddles created by Mickey the not quite house trained puppy and sorting through the laundry, it was mid morning. She was desperate to catch Michael Oldbury and beg him to help her. So without revealing too much she climbed into Herman and hit the road.

The Oldburys lived in a huge stately home a few miles outside town. Growing up it had seemed like a palace, everyone in school had been jealous, the minions in town. Now as she drove along the driveway she couldn’t help but notice how austere it seemed, how unwelcoming with its rows of immaculate windows and pillared entrances. Slowing the car on the gravel driveway, she climbed out of it and walked purposefully up to the front door.

She remembered Turner, the housekeeper from her time dating Scott, “Miss Mansell. Come in. Mr Oldbury is in the library.”

She followed the elderly man along the corridor, then stepped into the vast library. Michael was sat at a desk at the far end. He was seventy or more but had never really retired from his job, how could you when work was your life? That was what he always said. And he had lots of businesses, from the estate to a string of nightclubs in the Midlands and a whole lot in between.

For seventy he’d aged well, salt and pepper hair, angled face, in fact thought Martha; he’d aged better than his own son.

                “Martha...” he stood to his full height and smiled at her, “it’s great to see you.” He came around the desk and strode towards her, pulling her into an embrace. “You look well.”

Martha sighed, “I’m not unwell, but being here is a bit stressful.”

                “How’s the boy?” he asked, but not before looking around nervously.

                “He’s good, but I’m in town because of my Dad...”

                “I heard he’s ill.”

She nodded, “I’ve left my son at home, in London, and things aren’t getting any better here. I miss him.”

                “I can’t imagine how that feels. What do you want from me?”

She sighed, “help? Scott came around. Threatened me...I can’t bring my son to meet my dad, to meet you through fear. Surely there’s something you can do?”

Michael started to pace, and suddenly the vast room seemed small.

                “Don’t you think if I could control him I would?”

Sighing she lowered herself into a seat, “you’re my only hope. I can’t...” She dropped her head for a moment, “three months I’ve been without my baby, purely because your son is an animal. There must be SOMETHING you can do!”

Michael punched the desk in frustration, “look Martha, I do my best. I pay you the equivalent of a decent salary so that you can bring your son, MY grandson up safely. We all make sacrifices, I’d love to meet him, get to know him, but I can’t.”

Martha was fighting tears, “but I can’t do this anymore.”

                “He’s your priority; your father is big enough and ugly enough to look after himself.”

She stood, “he’s at rock bottom recovering from a stroke, he doesn’t know he has a grandchild, and he has had to live without me for the last five years. So don’t stand there and tell ME what to do.”

Michael was as angry as her, but he kept that under control, “as I say, we’re all making sacrifices, and I wish we could do things differently, but I have no plan B.”

Back at the house Martha was glad to find out that Lucy was shopping and Eamonn had taken her father to a nearby market, they used to go every month before his illness eying up the livestock. With the house to herself Martha started to clean, the tears rolling down her face as she scrubbed showers and toilets and loaded the washing machine time and time again, not seeing any end to the torment that had become her life.

Sonny was pacing the yard, he was angry, worried, livid, all rolled in to one. The last thing he’d expected to see when he was jogging along the main road was a certain green MG pulling onto the estate of the Oldbury family. He’d told her to avoid Scott at all costs, the man was dangerous. Now after disappearing for ten days, then being evasive, she was driving up to the house. And she was there for ages. He knew that because he’d run laps waiting until he saw her leave.

She was in the farmhouse now, but she couldn’t bear the thought of confronting her, learning what the hell was going on. She’d dated him once, Oldbury, what if she’d made a deal with him, a business deal...or worse, a personal one. He couldn’t go out now; he needed to get to the bottom of things.

Pulling out the punch bag he spent an exhausting hour hitting seven bells out of it.  It was mid afternoon when he finally threw open the kitchen door, and he was greeted by a sad Martha, face puffy hinting that she’d been crying, her eyes dull. She was cleaning, some of the kitchen cupboards were empty, the contents spewed out across the large kitchen table.

She looked up when he closed the door, and suddenly his anger at her consorting with that bastard ended, he was instead worried.

                “What’s wrong?” He marched across to her.

Martha pulled herself into standing, “I’m just having a hormonal day, a bit of pain, you know?” She offered, normally the hint of periods and PMT made men change the subject rather radically. She should have known that Sonny would be different.

              “Can I help? Do you need some painkillers? A hot water bottle?”

She sighed, “no, I’m fine. I’m just not very good company at the moment.”

He walked to the fridge and pulled out the milk, filling a glass before he spoke again, “were you good company for Oldbury?”

That was greeted with silence. He watched her, seeing her try to form a reason, a story, an excuse.

                “You want me to help, you want me to try and look after this place, then the first opportunity you march off to evil Scott Oldbury’s lair. What’s that all about?”

She peeled the rubber gloves that she’d worn to attack the kitchen and threw them at the bucket of detergent, then looked up at him, “I asked you to help, and in return I’ve given you a job and shelter, that does not give you carte blanche to interfere in my life. What I do in my own time is my business. Ok?”

                “You KNOW he’s dangerous, he hurt you once, the only reason I didn’t kill him with my bare hands is that you begged me to leave it, to let it go. If I’d known that you’d run around there...”

Martha saw red, who the hell was he to begin to question her judgement? He was uninformed and wrong. “I’m fully aware of what he is, I know him better than most. Just because you live in this house does not make you my father or my brother!”

He leaned forward his face a few inches from hers and shouted, “there are many things I want to be to you, but your BROTHER is the furthest from it.”

                “Don’t talk like that!”

He laughed, a wry sound, all the time his eyes never leaving hers, the intensity of that gaze freezing her to the spot. “Talk? I don’t want to talk either, but it seems I have to jump through more hoops than ever with you...” Moving to stand over her, he was almost threatening with his posture. Martha’s heart was racing; she had never felt so scared, yet so desperate for him to do something as she had in that moment. He let out a sigh, and it seemed to break the spell.

Taking that chance she grabbed a coat from the back of the door and stormed out. Leaving Sonny looking at nothing. With a groan he kicked off his shoes and made for the shower, a long cold shower, because as much as she’d walked away, he wasn’t hearing any rejection and he couldn’t get the desire for more of her out of his mind.

She still hadn’t returned at meal time, though the large pot of casserole on the hob needed little instruction.

                “Where is she?” Carl asked tucking into his food, he was self professed as ‘starving’ after his physio session.

                “She went out about three, haven’t seen her since.” Sonny was still smarting at her disappearance that afternoon.

                “Was she ok?”

He shrugged, “who knows? She seemed it.” He didn’t want to hurt Carl by telling him what he’d seen, and even less so the chaos that ensued afterwards.

                “I thought you were going out tonight.”

Sonny sighed; he’d lost all interest in partying at ten am this morning as he watched that car drive up a certain driveway. “Couldn’t be bothered. Too much effort.”

Carl smiled, “Can we go to the pub tonight then? She won’t let me, without her...well I’ll get the chance to catch up.”

Sonny groaned, “really? You know she’ll kill me. There’s no way you’d get there on your own.”

Carl leaned across the table, “look, you were meant to be off partying, and for some reason you’re here, at a loose end. We can both go mad, or we can get out. Have a little fun. Come on.”

It was against everything Sonny felt, but he was nothing if not very persuasive. He was a man in his sixties and if he wanted to go to the pub, then he deserved that treat, didn’t he?

An hour later they entered the Royal Oak, and Carl was greeted like a hero. He knew everyone in there, and deposited on a stool by the bar he was treated like royalty.

                “Game of pool?”

Sonny looked up from his pint to see the rather delectable Jade, her long blonde hair hung like a sheet, and she wore a skin tight strappy top that her breasts were struggling not to fall out of. His eyes studied her pointedly for a moment, from those creamy breasts down to her long booted legs. She really was something to behold.

                “Pool?” He eyed her suspiciously, “you some sort of hustler?”

She laughed, a girly peal of laughter, “No, I’m just a gal who wants to challenge a guy. Anything wrong with that?”

He shrugged, then tossed her a coin, “go rack them up; I’ll get us a drink.”

Half an hour later he wasn’t sure whether she was really poor at the game, or whether the whole ploy had been to end up as they were, her holding the cue, him curled over her trying to guide her into potting a ball. When she pushed her hips back into him, pressing her backside into his groin, he realised that it was the latter; this was exactly what she’d been planning.

                “Excuse me Miss. Is this the way to behave in front of your older and disproving brother?”

She turned in the closeness of their position and purred at him, “didn’t think you were the kind of guy who cared what he thought.”

He laughed, “I’m not, I’m not bothered about anyone, but you should be. I’m hardly the sort of boy you want to take home to meet your parents.”

She placed a hand on his chest, her voice still a purr, “you are anything BUT a boy!”

For a moment a voice warned him, this wasn’t what he wanted, this was retaliation at the way that Martha had once again snubbed him, but it was only a moment. Whilst they didn’t start kissing in the pub, the intention was there; he bought another round of drinks, checked on Carl, then made for the quieter side of the pub where Jade sat waiting for him.

                “What the FUCK are you playing at?”

When both faces looked up at her, Martha gave an awkward “sorry Jade,” then glared at Sonny.

                “What now?” He asked ignoring Jade who was draped across him, and standing to confront her equally.

                “My father!” She nodded towards the bar. “He’s wrecked. How long have you been here?”

He shrugged, “an hour, maybe two. He’s a big boy. Cut him some slack.”

                “He’s been out of hospital three weeks. He’s not supposed to drink. He’s unsteady on his feet sober...the list goes on.”

Groaning at her anger he offered, “just relax, he’s fine. He deserves to let his hair down.”

She shook her head poking him in the chest, “I trusted you! I KNEW you’d let me down. You are exactly what everyone says, selfish, mindless and a complete slut.” She glanced at Jade again hoping that pain at seeing the two of them draped around each other wasn’t too evident on her face, and added, “I’d run away now, whilst you can.”

Then with an arrogant and derogatory shake of the head, she walked back to her father.

                “What’s upset her?” Jade asked as he slumped angrily back into his seat. Sonny shook his head, frustration meaning he was both fuming, and frustrated. Yet again he’d been both put in his place by Martha, but also had his libido deflated like a burst balloon. That woman was going to be the death of him.