After All - Part Thirty One

Chapter Thirty One

Within a few days Mattie was back in work, despite everything she really needed to be busy. After the first night when Dylan had come home from work, she’d barely seen him. He’d taken to staying at the hotel and giving her ‘space’, not that she needed it. But she was grateful of somewhere to stay, that much was true.

Over the next three weeks the trend continued, he emailed her regularly, but their face-to-face contact was minimal. Mattie wasn’t very good with uncertainty, as the days passed she began to wonder what she’d said or done over that weekend when they were together. Had she revealed things drunk...heaven forbid that she’d been over friendly when she was sleepy and concussed. Something was driving him away and she had no idea what.

But she had other things on her mind, the golf weekend was less than ten days away, and before that her father was coming home. She was looking forward to seeing him. She still wasn’t sure whether it was Dylan reappearing or her recent attack that made her long for her father, but she was, desperately.

Dylan was back in New York for a few days so she felt extra pressure to make sure everything was perfect in the run up to the weekend.

Her phone was ringing nonstop, and she was getting more and more frustrated, with everyone and everything, then she answered with a snippy, “hello?”, only to hear her father’s voice.

                “I’m back!” And it was like heaven to her.

                “I’ll come to yours tonight, as soon as I’ve finished here.”

He sighed with please, “brilliant. Stay? I know you’re busy...”

For the best part of the last six years she’d avoided spending large portions of time with her father, partly because her mother wasn’t there, and that hurt, it really did, but also because she’d been living in a web of lies and she was unsure when she’d slip up, her father had no idea about so many things, things that had happened since her splitting from Dylan. Now that he was back, that her financial issues were easier, she felt ready to rekindle things with her father. She missed him so much.

And as she hung up she was determined to finish the day on schedule. She had a list of things she HAD to do, one for every day, and she smiled enthusiastically every time she ticked something off it. Marching up to the fourth floor she made it to the meeting with the designer in charge of the room renovations, with seconds to spare. Everything was in order, bar one of the showers, but they assured her that would be sorted first thing in the morning.

Rushing back to her office she was about to call Sarah, hand over things to her, but a she reached for her phone a cough from behind her alerted her to Dylan sat in the corner of her office.

                “You look stressed.”

She sighed, “I’m trying to get things sorted...my Dad’s home. I want to go see him, but I need to sort out SO many things. We’re still waiting on the scaffolding company to confirm when they’re setting up the gantries, then there’s been an issue with the size of the brewery order.”

As she bent her head to reach for the reams of paper she’d carried around like a shield all day, Dylan came towards her and took them from her hand, “go home, I’m back now. I’ll deal with all this.” He waved the papers to elaborate the point. “Go get a bottle of champagne from the bar, on me, then go to see Jim; I won’t expect you in before lunchtime tomorrow.”

                “But...”

He held up a hand, “no buts. Sometimes you need to switch off. You need to see your Dad, you need to step away. Ok? If I see you too early tomorrow, then I’ll sack you. You hear?”

Suitably told, she left the hotel with a skip in her step.

It was a ninety minute trip to her father’s home, since her mother had passed away her father had struggled. He still lived in the house she’d been brought up in, though on his own he rattled around like the last sweet in a jar. But as he opened the door and watched her walk down the step, she’d never been so glad to see him.

The hug that followed was longer than normal, and when they finally moved apart her father had tears in his eyes, “you ok darling?”

She gave him a beaming smile, “I am now.”

Holding her at arm’s length he stared at her for a moment, then smiled, leading her into the house.

                “So tell me about Thailand and Gareth’s new home.” She sat in a chair at the kitchen table as her father filled the kettle.

                “Well, it’s in a beautiful place,” Her brother Gareth had loved in Thailand for the last three or four years. He was now about to marry a local woman who he’d employed at the bank he worked in. He’d been in University with Sunti, whose father was a prominent political figure in his home of Thailand. In the years that followed their time in school they’d kept in touch, holidayed together, and when Sunti took on a head role in a Thai bank, he wanted a friend, and supporter running several of the branches for him. Gareth had just split up with his long term girlfriend, their mother had died, he needed something, and this job had been the best thing that happened to him. Though she had barely seen him since, he was happy, and her father got the chance to get away. Just what he needed.

As was proven by the way her father waxed lyrical about the home in the hills, the pool, the five bedrooms, the huge lounge...and the small cottage that was tucked away deep in the grounds. Perfect for him to live in.

                “So you’re going to move out there?”

Her father shrugged, “I’m not about to abandon you.”

That made her chuckle, “I’m thirty in a few months, I hardly need you putting everything on hold for me!”

                “You’re my daughter,” he handed her a mug of tea, “and I care about you...I worry about you.”

That made Mattie smile, “I’m a big girl Dad.”  Suddenly she remembered the champagne, “I forgot my new boss gave me this for tonight.”

She handed him the bottle and he lifted his eyebrows, “wow. You must be a valued employee.”

Mattie said nothing as he put it in the fridge, instead she watched him pull out a pot of casserole, “so who’s been cooking for you?”

He blushed as he placed the pot in the oven, “Mrs Owen is just concerned, that’s all.”

Mattie chuckled at that, her dad had had the adoration of the single women of a certain age in town, and constantly batted off their attention. After more small talk and a little teasing, they sat down to eat at the kitchen table that had seen so many family meals in the past.

                “So work is going well? You seem more settled than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

She’d never been honest with him, not truly on so many levels. Did she change that now?

Mattie sighed, “I’ve got a new boss, Paul my old boss kind of abandoned ship.”

                “So it’s all change. How’s the new guy?” He chewed on the lamb as he watched her.

Leaning back in her seat she contemplated for a moment, then said quietly, “it’s Dylan. He bought the hotel.”

Her father couldn’t have looked anymore stunned, his jaw hung open, his eyes were wide. It took him a little while to formulate a response. “Wow. How does that work?”

She sighed, “it’s been hard, but we’ve kind of called a truce, buried the hatchet. It was all a long time ago.”

That surprised him too. “That’s not what I expected to hear.”

She laughed, “we’ve bitten lumps out of each other, I resigned once, and almost hit him a dozen times. But he has changed, he’s finally grown up.”  

Her father chewed again quite thoughtfully, and it was a while until he spoke again, “and he’s bought the hotel? Finally doing well for himself then? Always knew he would. I don’t like what happened...what it did to you, but I always liked Dylan, you know that. And whatever we think of him, he was always driven to do better, to be something.”

She sighed, “he wanted that success more than he wanted me.”

                “Some people need to prove themselves, maybe the point is why, but I digress.”

Mattie didn’t want to think about justifying Dylan’s behaviour, she wasn’t ready for that, “so yes, he’s got some sort of empire out in the States, we’re a new acquisition...he’s got homes here, New York...doing well.”

                “And that hurts?”

She rubbed at her eyes, wishing she could ease the tension that had settled in her, she hated to sound petty and jealous, “He left me in debt Dad, HUGE debt. I never told you...”

Her father reached out and laid a hand over hers, “I guessed it was something like that, you worked so hard, but you never went anywhere, never had fun...” She could see tears glazing over his eyes, “you were too proud to tell me...or him.”

She nodded, “I was, I am. I worked through it, and it was a real challenge. He never knew, but now...well he’s dealt with what’s left, so I’m living again, finally.”

                “Hence the smile.”

                “It’s a huge relief to have some financial security again, I can’t tell you how hard it’s been. I’ve had a long time to think, and a lot to think over. I have lived with guilt, about mum, you, him...the money. Kind of takes over, but it’s also easy to hide behind, you know? I was too busy hating him and resenting the rest of the world to deal with the fact that I missed my mum; I missed my husband...and never appreciated what I had left. I’ve been the worst kind of daughter Dad.”

He shook his head, “No. I’ll never agree with that. Ever. You have never let me down. You have been through so much, but you never wanted to burden me with it, I get that. I wish you’d dealt with it differently, but you had to do things your way. I get that.”

Mattie smiled, really smiled, “go to Thailand. Go live out there, have fun...you deserve it. And I promise to visit. A lot. I can now. Ok?”

He grinned, “we’ll see.”

They ate more, then her father brought out some apple crumble and custard.

                “Mrs Owen too?”

He laughed, “Mrs Price from the post office, ‘the apples are fresh from my garden’. Your mother would laugh wouldn’t she?”

                “At you being the town’s most eligible bachelor? Oh yes. It’s hilarious.”

                “This is good champagne.” Her father commented as he sipped at it.

When she looked at her he was nodding knowingly. “What?”

He shrugged, “just find it wild that it’s a gift from Dylan. Or that he’s back in your life without you killing him.”

Shaking her head vehemently she protested, “I have almost killed him several times, and he’s not in my life Dad, he’s my boss.”

Leaning back in his chair he sighed, “I’ve never been more worried about you than I have the last few years. But tonight...you’re the old Matilda again. I like that.”

She blushed it was an awkward morning and she wasn’t sure she liked what he was insinuating, “that’s nothing to do with him.”

She stared at his hand as his fingers grabbed hers, “you’re happy, relaxed...ask yourself when you last felt like that, and why.”

And wasn’t that a lot to sleep on that night. Mattie was sick of punching the pillow, of tossing and turning in her bed. When was she last truly happy. Dispute racking her brain she couldn’t come up with anything, anywhere, or anyone...other than Dylan. Until the last year of her marriage she’d been almost deliriously happy, then her world had fallen apart. He was it...he represented her becoming all that she wanted to be, prior to him she’d been shy, introspective, but with his love and attention she’d bloomed into someone confident, happy, determined, ambitious...it had all been due to him.

Climbing out of her bed, she shuffled along the corridor to her Dad’s room and opened the door.

                “I’m awake darling. You ok?”

She could see him sit up in the dark and lowered herself to the edge of his bed, “Dylan.”

He sighed, “no one will think anything if you give things another try. He was perfect for you, and I know he did wrong, HE knows he did wrong. But he was so good for you before that. Nothing in life is easy, and I can’t imagine trusting him would be easy again. But don’t let the past completely shape things. You were good together for a lot longer than it was bad.”

                “You in his fan club these days?”

He laughed, “no. Yours. Look, I have always liked him, he was like a son to me. I trusted him to look after you, and he did for a long time. I found losing him hard too. Part of me would want to slap him for hurting you, but I guarantee he’s suffered enough himself in the past. Losing you can’t have been easy. It isn’t easy dealing with the past, getting beyond things, but if you can, and if he makes you happy then I’m happy..”

                “But all that happened...”

He took her hand, “only you know if you can get past it. Only you know if it’s worth a try.”

With a smile she leaned forward to hug him, there was no one as great as your dad. 

After All - Part Thirty

 Chapter Thirty

A shout, a scream almost pierced the quiet evening. Dylan jumped up from his desk and ran at speed into the lounge. Matilda was half sat up on the sofa, her eyes bewildered.

                “You ok?”

She nodded in a distracted way, “bad dream I presume.”

He watched as her eyes scanned the room, looking for the scene that had haunted her sleep and made her call out.

Crossing towards her, he lowered himself beside her on the sofa, “come here.” He outstretched an arm, and with a sigh she leaned against him.

They sat there for a while, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder, until eventually she spoke.

                “I saw his face...well, his eyes...”

Dylan found himself stroking her hair, murmuring words of encouragement, support. “You’re allowed to be scared, to be worried.”

She laughed, the sensation tingling his neck, “I fought it cos I didn’t want to hear ‘I told you so’!”

Smiling he turned her in his arms, looked down at her, “I’m not interested in cheap point scoring, I genuinely worry about you, ok?”

Matilda nodded and the tears that welled in her eyes tugged at his heart. With a groan he pulled her close once more, his lips settling on to the top of her head, kissing her scalp through her hair, trusting himself to do no more than hold her.

It was a little while later that her breathing became softer, more regular, and he realised she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Reluctantly he lowered her back to the pillows, then lifted her legs so that she was stretched out once more on the sofa.

Standing he stared down at her, the last few hours it had felt as though he’d travelled back six or seven years, to a time when nothing mattered, neither of them were hurt, neither looking to score cheap points. It had seemed so easy then, to love Matilda and trust her, to know that she felt the same way. He sighed, was it greed? Was that what had driven him to leave, to chase a dream that meant he lost her? He couldn’t believe that, there was more to him than just greed, he had to believe that.

He thought back to those times, he wanted to provide for her, he wanted to be everything, and that meant being successful. He dreamed of a home, a family...everything your mother didn’t provide. He sighed, hating that his mother penetrated this moment, but then he knew it was relevant. She had dragged him through life along with her on an constant quest to find better than she had, replacing one husband with the next one who was richer, more successful and more beneficial to her than the last. Was that what he’d done? Tried to be the best, tried to be the man that Matilda would never want to seek to improve.

He laughed out loud, that had worked out SO well.

Looking down at her sleeping he groaned, until a few months ago he had no idea that he’d screwed his life up, but he so obviously had. And that realisation pained him, he was beginning to wonder if he could ever make it right again.

Mattie saw those eyes, staring at her, contempt, hatred. She turned but everywhere she looked were similar half screened faces, she was outside her home but couldn’t reach it.

With a pant and a shout, she sat bolt upright and it took a moment to realise that she wasn’t in the street, that she wasn’t being assaulted...she was in Dylan’s flat, his spare bedroom. It took a moment for her racing heart to calm, and her eyes to get used to the dark. Within seconds the door open spilling light across the room, Dylan silhouetted against it.

                “You ok?”

She nodded, “can’t believe some bloody hooligan kid is giving me nightmares.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gave her hand a squeeze, “you were attacked near your home, the only thing worse would be if they had broken in to your house. It’s a blow to your confidence, but you’ll get it back.”

As he smiled at her she could feel her bottom lip quivering.

                “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, “you’re just not used to feeling so vulnerable, you’ve always been independent and strong that it’s hard, an unusual for you to be on the back foot like this.”

His words were so right, so intuitive that it made her tears flow freely, she could feel them sinking into the t-shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Instead, he held her and stroked her head, letting her fear and anxiety to sweep out.

Eventually she stopped crying but even then he didn’t stop holding her.

When eventually he did try and disentangle their limbs, she shook her head, “don’t go. Will you just...”

He sighed, “you want me to sleep here with you?”

She nodded nervously, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Dylan groaned, how the hell was he meant to sleep in the same bed as her without...he couldn’t think about it, couldn’t. Lowering her, and then himself to the bed, he let her burrow into him, her face almost buried in his neck. Then thought cold harsh thoughts, anything to stop his body responding to the smell that was already permeating his nostrils and the arm around his waist, fingers spanning his hip.

Within seconds she was asleep, her body relaxed, became heavy against him, and it was only then he let himself breathe. Over the last few months he’d started to think that maybe this was possible, that there was a chance of rekindling what was good between them, now that she stopped hating him so furiously. But not like this, not accidental, and NOT when she was vulnerable and needy. When they got together, when he finally got that wish, it would be her coming to him, and her vocalising that it was what she wanted more than anything. He was fed up of being the bad guy, he was not about to take advantage of her. No matter how hard that was.

Mattie woke to sunlight on her face. Taking a moment she suddenly remembered where she was, and turning smiled to see Dylan beside her, fast asleep. He looked relaxed in sleep, signs of the boy she remembered the flawless skin, long eyelashes, the full lips. She was tempted to plant a kiss on his lips, a thank you for looking out for her. If he hadn’t been there so many times in the last eighteen hours, she had no idea how she’d have coped.

Breakfast. That was a safer way of repaying him. If she kissed him...she sighed, that would open a whole can of worms that she wasn’t ready to embrace. It was too difficult, and they were finally getting on, finally back to being friends, and she’d needed that more than anything since she’d been assaulted and robbed.

There was nothing to eat in the kitchen, so she pulled on some clothes. As she was about to walk out the door she realised she had no money, no back cards...nothing. Creeping into Dylan’s empty room she found his wallet on the bedside table, and pulling a twenty pound note out of his wallet, she was glad to find a baseball cap which helped hide her bandaged wound, she skipped out of the apartment.

Dylan rolled over and realised he was alone. He looked for his watch, but remembered it was still in his room, and he’d joined Matilda in the spare room. If he didn’t remember her nightmare, then his body was already primed at the smell of her on the pillow beside him. It had been a hellish night; Matilda had spent the night wriggling up against him, writhing against his thigh, her breasts pushed into him. It had taken all of his willpower and more to not reciprocate. Now she wasn’t there and the room felt empty. Swinging his legs around he pulled himself out of bed, then after a luxurious stretch, left the bedroom. There was no sign of her in the lounge and that surprised him, but he was determined not to panic, instead he entered his room to find his watch and orientate himself. At the doorway he froze, his wallet was on the bed, opened, as though someone had rifled through it. The thought of what may have happened caused him physical pain. Why would Matilda do that?

As he walked bewildered back into the lounge he faced the realisation that she was gone. Groaning he leaned against the wall, wondering what all this meant. And he was frozen in that position when the door swung open.

Mattie smiled at Dylan leaning against the wall.

                “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” He gave a half grimace so she wafted the bag she carried under his nose. “There was NOTHING in the house to eat, so I went to THE nicest cafe around the corner. Bacon and mushroom baguettes! Hope you’re hungry.”

As she moved past him she remembered to add, “oh, and I’m afraid I had to borrow the money for them, I got out the door and realised I haven’t even got a bankcard to use, they were all in my bag.”

The sigh that escaped his lips was like a hiss and she paused to look at him, “what’s wrong?”

He finally shrugged, “I thought you’d gone.”

She frowned, “fortunately for you I have NO where to go. Now can you show me how the hell this coffee machine works? I’m pretty good with the usually...but this one I have NO clue.”

Dylan watched her move confidently around the kitchen finding plates and mugs...she even started on the coffee machine before he had chance to join her. He was feeling so guilty. For that moment...longer than a moment, he thought she’d taken money from him, that she’d abandoned him. Shaking his head he hated that. She was no thief, and despite the way she’d instigated their divorce, she’d not have been underhand. Plus they worked together, she could hardly escape that, and the truth was he’d let her have as much money as she wanted or needed anyway.

                “You gonna share this breakfast or what?”

He looked up and smiled, despite the bandage and the bruising to the side of her head, she looked adorable stood in his kitchen, smiling at him earnestly. With a decisive nod he moved towards her and sat in front of the huge loaded sandwich.

He went for a jog a little later, needing the time to clear his head, but when he came back Matilda was pacing.

                “What’s up?” he asked reaching for a towel and wiping his face.

                “Well...” she mumbled for a moment, “I was going to go to the supermarket, fill the fridge.”

Smiling he added, “but you don’t have a means of paying?”

She nodded, “I called the bank, they’re sending one out, and I can go in and withdraw cash tomorrow.”

Dylan walked towards her, “two things I won’t argue about, firstly you are staying here long term, that’s a given, but secondly, I am taking you to the supermarket in the car. We can stock up for the week. I will be staying at the hotel when I’m sure you’re ok. But until then I’ll stay here.” He turned for the shower before adding, “oh, and you’re not working for at least a few days.”

Smiling at her goldfish expression, mouth opening and closing in confusion, he made for the shower.

                “You know I’m not letting you boss me around don’t you?”

They’d shopped, filled the fridge and were now sat enjoying a glass of wine after a delicious meal...Mattie insisted on at least doing something around the house whilst she was staying there. She’d argue over just how long that was another day, in life you had to lose battles to win a war and she would win that.

His response was a deep chuckle, “from where I’m standing I hold all the cards...for a change.”

                “Make the most of this smug moment,” she smiled, “cos it’s a once in a lifetime experience getting the upper hand. You got that?”

He refilled her glass with a smile, “you are one smug woman, you know that?”

And the grin got even smugger.

Dylan was reluctant to leave her to go to work the next day, but she’d had a trouble free night, her head was healing and she assured him she needed time to herself. Plus she’d been inundated with calls from people wondering where she was. So with him out of the house, she opened up her laptop, logged and Skyped her father. There was nothing more life affirming than seeing that life flash by in a moment. For a heartbeat that could have been the end, but as it was, she was here, and she had a desperate need to speak to her Dad.

After that she called Andy, she knew he’d be most worried. She was still too scared to venture home, the thought made her shake, so she arranged to meet him in Covent Garden. Somewhere she hadn’t been for ages.

                “What the...” he held her at arm’s length and assessed the bruise and the huge dressing at her temple, “if I get my hands on that little scrote...”

She smiled, “it’s with the police, and anyway you’d have to join the queue for that pleasure.”

They ate lunch in a small pub and caught up on things, “so where are you staying?”

                “Dylan’s put me up...it’s just until I feel better.”

He looked at her sceptically, “yeah right, you’re like a lamb to the slaughter, he’ll be on you before you can blink.”

She shook her head, “he’s not interested in me like that, why would he be? I mean we shared a bed and he didn’t lay a finger on me. He’s DEFINITELY not interested in me that way. I can trust him, I’m safe.”

And she hated that the thought of being so safe with him made her sad. 

After All - Part Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine

Dylan’s heart was in his mouth as his taxi raced across town. A policewoman, that’s who’d answered Matilda’s phone, and that scared him beyond belief. All he knew was there was “an incident” and now she was in hospital, ironically a hospital as far away from him as possible. Suddenly his jetlag was a thing of the past, his worry; his fear for Matilda superseded anything else. He had no idea what he was walking into, he had no clue what had happened. For a fleeting moment he worried what would happen if that chancer Andy was there. He of the cheap flowers. He’d not pushed her to find out the nature of their relationship, but for a moment that didn’t matter. As the cab got closer to the hospital he noted the irony that he’d not known where she was for most of the last six years, but today he was more worried about Matilda than he had ever been about anyone else in his life.

Matilda.

He shook his head, so bloody stubborn, always thinking she knew best...and always thinking that he was the bad man. Damn her.

The taxi stopped and he flung a wad of notes at the driver then ran into the casualty unit.

                “I’m looking for Matilda Davies; she was brought in about an hour ago.”

The grey faced receptionist tapped at his computer for a moment, “you family?”

He nodded, crossing his fingers behind his back, “she’s my wife.”

The boy nodded, “end of the corridor, fourth door on your right, she’s being patched up.”

A nurse blocked his route as he approached his destination.

                “I’m looking for Matilda Davies.”

The nurse glanced at the chart in her hand, then nodded, “are you...”

                “Her husband.”

Giving a nod she smiled, “she’s in room six, over there.”

He thanked her then made for the room.

Pushing the door open he groaned. Matilda was sat on a bed, a man in scrubs was cleaning a wound to her head, and she glanced up as the door opened.

                “Shit Matilda...” he rushed across the room as she closed her eyes and bit her lip. She was fighting tears, he could tell. With her eyes closed she was trying to block him out, but he wasn’t having that. He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

                “What are you doing here? How did you know?”

He sighed, watching the man in front of him, the witness to this conversation as he stated to apply iodine to the wound at her hairline. The right side of her face was grotesquely bruised, her cheek and jaw swollen. “You called me when I was coming through customs, so I couldn’t answer, then when I called back, the police answered. You have NO idea how terrifying that was. What happened?”

She sighed, “that’s how they knew my name! You told them. I did wonder.” She swallowed and he could see it was painful for her, so he reached for the glass of water that sat on a table beside her then waited as she sipped at it. “It was a nice day so I decided to walk home. I saw you’d phoned, so I called you back. You didn’t answer...” she was thinking desperately trying to recall. “Then there was a tug at my bag...” She looked up at him, “there was a boy, he had a scarf over his face. I pulled my bag away from him, but there was another one...another boy. He hit me, but I was holding the bag...”

                “So you fell?”

She nodded, “hit my head...and the bastards got my bag.”

Dylan waited as the man finished dressing the stitched wound at her temple.

                “Right, you need those stitches removed in five days. The consultant wants to check your neuro obs in another half an hour.”

                “Can I go then?”

The man shrugged, “you’ve got concussion, as long as you don't go home alone, it’s ok. You need someone keeping an eye on you...just in case.”

                “That won’t be a problem.” Dylan reassured him rather rapidly.

When Matilda groaned he squeezed her hand and glared when she met his eyes. The man...a nurse or doctor he wasn’t sure, left the room, and he hissed under his breath.

                “You want to stay in here? Cos if you don’t come home with me that is EXACTLY what will happen.”

She shook her head “I’m not coming home with you.”

He laughed, “stop being SO bloody stubborn, you are NOT going home alone. THAT is a doctor’s opinion, not mine. SO get over it, ok?”

An hour later, still against every bone in her body, Dylan was leading Matilda out to a waiting taxi. She had nothing but the clothes she had on, no wallet, no house key, no clothes...nothing. But he brushed that off in an instant.

As they sat in the back of the car he sighed.

                “So where’s this Andy chap then? Is he not able to look after you?” He hated that there was bitterness in his voice, but the thought of her with another man wasn’t pleasurable, and the fact that he wasn’t here helping her angered him even more.

Her head snapped up and she stared at him, “he’s my neighbour...he has no commitment or responsibility to me.”

That stunned him, “but the flowers...”

She laughed, “stick your nose where it isn’t welcome and things like this happen. He sent me flowers to say sorry for something. Is that so ridiculous?”

He had no answer, other than “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

                “Don’t. Please. My head feels like it’s caving in, and I don’t have ANY time for this alpha male shit. Ok?”

Nodding he slumped back and was silent as the taxi cut through the London streets.

                “Your key was in your bag?” Suddenly he realised how vulnerable things were. When she nodded he added, “anything with your address?”

She turned slowly, “I didn’t even think of that. I don’t know.”

Nodding he pulled out his phone and called the police officer who’d taken her statement before they’d left hospital. When it became clear that they had no idea if her home had been broken into, he hung up then called a locksmith. After much negotiating, he agreed to meet the locksmith at her apartment in an hour’s time.

When he glanced at her she was smiling gratefully at him, and everything was worthwhile for that moment.

The last time they’d been in his apartment had been when they’d argued when she’d found out he’d bought the hotel. She’d not really had chance to look around at that point, but now as she sank on to the sofa SO appreciatively, she looked around her. The place was so obviously a man’s home. Minimally decorated, neutral colours. 

Dylan had disappeared when they arrived, and now he emerged from a door.

                “Here are some things...” he handed her a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. “Take a shower, have a sleep...whatever. I’m going to go secure your place. Ok?”

                “You sure?”

He nodded, “I’ll bring some clothes, anything else?”

Nodding she couldn’t believe she was giving into this so easily, “my laptop, should be on my bed...phone charger. That should be enough.”

With a grin he disappeared back out the door.

Words failed him as he moved around the room that she classed as an apartment, they’d lived in better when they were young and skint students. He found the bathroom at least and swept the bottles and sundry gathered on the shelf above the sink into a bag along with her toothbrush. Then found underwear, pyjamas in a drawer, then in the only cupboard he found some jeans, a couple of t-shirts. He hoped he had a good selection, but it felt so intrusive to be searching through her belongings.  That said he had no intention of her living here again. She’s hate him, fight it, but he was determined. He could live at the hotel when he was in the country, she could have his apartment, until she sorted out something more permanent.

As he re-entered his home with three large bags, which he dumped in the hall, he shrugged off his jacket and then strolled into the lounge, but the sight there stopped him dead in his tracks, Matilda was clad in his t-shirt, a soft throw over her legs, fast asleep on the sofa. The doctors had told him to keep a check on her, not let her sleep too much until night time, but she looked so comfortable, so relaxed that there was no way that he’d wake her yet. Taking her bags through to the second bedroom in the apartment, he then made for the kitchen. But the cupboards were bare, he’d not expected to be back there, he’d planned on staying at the hotel.

Picking up the phone he called Fortnum and Mason, he’d bought hampers from the food hall before, and once he explained his predicament, the gentleman who’d taken his call promised a delivery of a variety of luxury food within the hour. He would pay for that privilege, but he wanted to have dinner ready when she woke.

He’d showered and changed into jeans and a thin knit sweater, his feet still bare when the doorbell rang. As he moved to answer the intercom, he noticed Matilda stirring. When he returned with the five bags packed full of food, Matilda was sat on the sofa rubbing her eyes.

                “You ok?” He asked pausing in his journey.

She nodded, “how long have I been asleep?”

He glanced at the clock, “well I’ve been back from your home an hour at least.”

She sighed, “my head hurts.”

He laughed, “I am not surprised. You’re due some meds. I bought some juice to wash it down.”

Taking in the bags in his hand, and his position half way to the open plan kitchen, she placed the back of her hand to her forehead and swooned, “is Dylan Wallace...he who can’t boil an egg...about to make me some dinner? I’m not sure my weak disposition can cope with that!”

He gave a grimace, “I can cook a bit...but today I’ve had help from Messers Fortnum and Mason.”

She giggled at his indignation, but as he started up the oven and began to warm a huge Beef Wellington, it looked, and almost immediately smelled amazing. As her pulled cartons of potato, beetroot and corn salads from the bag, Matilda stood and wandered towards him, her nose taking in as many aromas as it could.

                “You hungry?” he asked pulling out a bar stool for her to perch the other side of the work station.

When she nodded he found a pot of olives and slipped them in front of her, “an appetite is a good thing.”

She laughed scooping a plump black olive into her mouth, “I feel a bit unsettled, my stomach is churning, but I presume that’ll ease...I almost feel too hungry, too empty, you know?”

He nodded, “and this...” he pulled out a bottle of sparkling water, “might help settle that stomach.” As she took the glass he poured, he slid two pain killers across the smooth worktop to her. “With these.”

She mock saluted him then took the meds, before resting her elbow on the counter, her chin in her upturned hand, “thanks for looking after me.”

He grinned, but as he opened his mouth to reply he looked serious, so she spoke quickly, silencing him.

                “And for not giving it ‘I told you so’.”

That made him laugh, “you know that’s what I think, really. Will you humour me, please?”

Shrugging she immediately refused to consider anything at that point, she was sore, bruised and her confidence was shattered, she didn’t need to make rash decisions in the midst of all that.

The Beef Wellington was amazing. Dylan had laid up the small table in the corner of the kitchen, and Mattie sat opposite him devouring the food which was amazing. When she looked up Dylan’s eyes were on her.

                “What?”

He sighed, “nothing, just glad to see you eat...that you’re better, you know?”

She ate silently for a moment, then nodded, “it could have been a lot worse I suppose.”

                “you’re not wrong there. You could be in a mortuary. Let your bag go next time, ok?”

Mattie had to nod, “I suppose that’s right.”

                “You can’t stay living there...”

                “I| wasn’t at my home when this happened.”

He shrugged, “it’s not the worst place in the world, but it’s not right for you. Ok? I can’t debate that with you, and if you won’t listen to me...then I’ll make you sleep at the hotel. You KNOW I can do that.”

She was too tired to argue, “we’ll discuss it when I’m feeling up to it. Ok?”

He laughed, “why am I sensing a fight over this?”

                “You LOVE us fighting; you’ve already told me that.”

Taking a piece of the perfect beef on his fork he groaned, “you are too bloody stubborn for your own good, you know that?”

                “You wash dishes too?”

She loved goading him, he could tell. Looking up he grimaced at her, “no, I’m loading the dishwasher. You got a problem with that?”

She was reclining on the sofa with a groan when she heard his retort, “just amazed to see the difference in the boy I met in Uni. Don’t think you even warmed up a quiche when we lived together.”

Again he grimaced, “you took over with the cooking, like you do everything else!”

She shook her head, reminding him of the half dozen times he had shirked his culinary responsibility, and Dylan couldn’t help but lean against the kitchen work surface and appreciate the moment, them talking about the past with humour and  fondness, not the anger and resentment that seemed to rule things until recently.

                “Are you listening to me?” She asked and it made him shake his head instinctively.

                “Sorry was just thinking. You need anything else?”

She was half reclined on the sofa; shaking her head she lowered herself right down, “you mind me having a nap?”

Shaking his head he smiled, “no, but I’m not letting you sleep for too long. I’ve got some work to do.”

But she was already closing her eyes and stretching out.