Trying Not to Love You - Part Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Two

Martha had never been more grateful to get to the restaurant than that morning. Her father had obviously smelt a rat; after all he discovered the spilt tea a couple of hours before she emerged from the utility room. He didn’t ask where she’d been, and she didn’t offer, instead she started on breakfast for everyone. Sonny didn’t appear from the same direction as her, and she was never more relieved to take a long very hot shower, washing the remaining signs of him from her body.

There was another party booked for the following night so Martha had been grateful for the excuse to rush in to the restaurant to meet Tom the chef to discuss the menu and organise the orders. She’d been there half an hour when two police officers walked in.

                “Miss Mansell?”

When she nodded, stopping her recce of the bar fridges, she only had an hour before she needed to call the wholesaler for a delivery that day.

                “I’m DI Chandler; this is my partner Detective Smith.” When she smiled politely the older man Chandler added, “we’ve had the fire inspectors around this morning. Seems your barn fire was started by an accelerant, in the far corner.”

                “Arson?” Martha asked. Though she wasn’t surprised.

The man studied her, “you’re not shocked?”

She shook her head, “we’ve had rather a lot of random ‘accidents’ on the farm the last few months, damage, vandalism.”

                “You’ve not reported it?”

Martha sighed, “what could I prove? There was no real evidence.”

                “Well there could be now...”

Martha thought back to Sonny, he’d tell her never to grass Scott. If the police turned up at his and questioned him he’d start an even greater vengeance against them. Did she still trust Sonny to deal with this?

                “I am inundated by requests to buy my land from property developers. I presume one of them is trying to labour a point.”

Chandler raised his eyebrows, “there’s a big difference in bullying tactics and arson...someone could have been killed.” He studied her for a moment, “your lodger has a record...”

                “GBH!” She snapped, “that’s hardly arson or the attempted murder you talk about. After all why would he try and burn his own home? For an investigator you seem to be barking up lots of wrong trees.”

That caused him to pause, he studied her again for a moment, “we’ll be looking into this.”

SHe nodded, “I would hope that you did. If I think of anything be sure I’ll call.”

Angry at her presumption he nodded to his partner then they both made for the door. As he opened it she added, “please don’t pester my father. He’s been unwell. He doesn’t need the stress.”

Once they left Tom appeared at the office door, “can we check the menus now?”

                “Give me two minutes as I’ve got to restock the bar, otherwise there’ll be no party at all.”

Half an hour later they were engrossed in menu options opposite each other at the desk in the office, Martha was typing away at the computer trying to price the things he requested, and order them.

 A tap at the office door caused them both to look up, and stood there glowering at them was Sonny.

                “Can I have a word Martha?”

Suddenly she was dry mouthed, she couldn’t face this, she wasn’t ready yet. “We’re just sorting out things...can I see you later?”

He shook his head, “I’m working in a couple of hours and I’ve got to run some errands for your father.”

Tom jumped up, “it’s ok. We’re done anyway Martha. I’m going to get home for a few hours.” He looked up at Sonny, “see you at seven?”

Sonny gave more scowl than smile as he watched the other man retreat, then kicked the door closed behind him.

Martha was petrified, Sonny was angry, she could tell, but then she knew he would be, and she’d not anticipated how this would work out. Her eyes darted around trying to look for a way out, but there was no back door to this office. And Sonny was wise to that.

                “You can’t run away now.”

She sighed and he slammed his hand against the desk, “why are you doing this?”

                “Doing what?” She feigned innocence.

                “You’re avoiding me.”

She stood, moving to the back of the office as far away from him as she could, “I’m busy Carter. You know that.”

He came around the desk towards her, reaching out he slid a hand over her cheek to anchor in her hair, “not that busy?”

His head lowered and she knew he was going to kiss her, his fingers were doing enough damage, she had to get away. Ducking she passed him, “last night...it shouldn’t have happened.”

                “I disagree.”

She shook her head, “it won’t happen again.”

The step towards her was predatory, “oh yes it will.”

She got as far as the door before he caught up with her, “Martha STOP.”

Turning, she sighed, “no Carter. It won’t happen again, it was a mistake, I didn’t want it last night and I don’t want to repeat it.”

He laughed, that familiar sardonic laugh, “I didn’t see you beating me off this morning. YOU kissed me, YOU started it, and YOU wanted it as much as I did. So don’t stand there pretending otherwise.”

She shook her head, “I was wound up after the fire, scared. You were there, and I needed some comfort.”

                “So what I’m sort of blanket that you cling to in your hour of need?” She could see how hurt he was, but she didn’t want to feel sympathy, then he added, “seems you were suited to that bastard Oldbury after all!”

Without a second thought she reached out and slapped his face, hard. “Get out! Get out now!”

She turned her back to him, and hoped he listened, the click of the door told her that he’d gone and she almost collapsed with relief.

Sonny stormed out, striding out into the fresh air, gasping like someone who’d been trapped underground for days. It didn’t make any difference. He was due back in work in a few hours, and yet all he wanted was to get wasted.

Pulling out his phone he called Johnny, “you free?”

He laughed, “it’s three o’clock. What you got in mind?”

                “Boar’s Head forty minutes?”

Johnny laughed, “deal.”

As he walked to the bus stop that would take him to Northbury, he sent a quick text message to Martha, ‘Not well. Won’t be in work.’ He didn’t feel the need for niceties. Detouring into the bookies he threw thirty quid on the first race, drinking winnings was far better than drinking your own money. But he lost...not a great moment. With an even darker cloud he left the building and headed for oblivion.

Sonny could barely open his eyes. Everything hurt, not just his head and his eyes. It must have been one hell of a night, not that he could remember it. He rarely forgot things due to drink so he must have gone crazy the night before. But not too crazy that he could forget Martha, her face when she rejected him, and the pain that she alone caused. He’d never been honest, open with anyone but her, and she’d thrown it back in his face. Then there was that time together, every time he thought about her he saw her as she had been writhing beneath him, on top of him, her delightfully erotic body winding him up even in a flashback of memory.

He tried to open an eye, but failed on three occasions, but when he finally managed it, he groaned to see a glimpse of Johnny’s lounge. He was on the sofa, thankfully alone. Closing his eyes he felt tears prick at his eyes. He’d not felt this out of his comfort zone before. Suddenly Martha had disrupted his world and he didn’t know how to get control back.

Was it worse to care that Sonny hadn’t come home or not? She didn’t know. All she knew was she worried about him, she knew that she’d put the darkness back into his eyes, and she hated herself for that. But she couldn’t do this, couldn’t contemplate a relationship with him, Ethan was her priority, and if she got Sonny up to speed in the restaurant, then she could go back to London, and back to her darling boy. No, Sonny was a pawn to be used in her game of life, without him, she was nothing.

None of that meant she didn’t worry about the state that Sonny was in. He had told her he loved her, that was special to him, but then he was a man who hadn’t known love, who was to say he had any clue what the word meant. The fact that he hadn’t come home was more evidence that she was just another notch on his very worn bedpost, something she swore she’d not become.

Martha wanted to cry, everything was such a mess, so instead she went and squirreled herself in her bedroom and called Ethan, he was the only person who could comfort her now. The only one who could ever make things better.

Seven o’clock she was applying lipstick in the small mirror on the kitchen wall when the back door swung open. Looking up she immediately felt terrified, she wasn’t ready to front things out with the man stood there with pain and anger emanating from him in huge waves. He looked like death, there wasn’t a hint of colour in his face, and he staggered slightly, a sign that he might still be drunk.

                “Carter?”

He turned his head away from her, “don’t. Just don’t! I don’t want your sympathy.”

With that he stormed past her and up the stairs to his room.

At least a party at the restaurant kept her busy, stopped her mind from drifting to the mess her home life had become. Tonight was an anniversary party, and Helen, Mandy and Paul were all there. She had been more than a little distant from Helen since they’d had words a few weeks back, and tonight she needed allies more than anything. So once the food was finished and tables cleared to provide a dance floor, she took a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses and made her way across the restaurant to the vacant seat next to her friend.

                “I heard about the fire.” Helen offered as she sat down.

Martha nodded, “latest in a long line of...stresses. Sorry I’ve been absent; who’d have thought a piece of land would cause me so much grief.”

She lifted the bottle of wine, offering it to her friend and finally Helen smiled, “thought you’d never ask.”

It was late when she got home, the house was in darkness, everyone was asleep. It was bittersweet for Martha, she needed to sort things with him, with Sonny, she knew that now. All night she’d been dreading the confrontation, but also knowing that to move on and get past it they had to speak. Now he was in bed. Sighing she crossed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer, then kicked off her shoes, wriggling her toes that had been confined in tight shoes all evening.

She’d brought the books back with her, and with the beer beside her, she calculated the effect the couple of parties they’d had, and it was good. The general economic climate meant that people didn’t spend the same time and money in bars and restaurant as they had. It was a tough time, but these new parties, her own idea really, were already looking to be a huge success. Everything that saw her maintain the restaurant was a step towards getting back to Ethan. That was her mantra now, she’d been away long enough.