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.