After All - Part Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Eight

The door opened, eventually and Matilda stood there, pale, drawn and with her eyes barely open. She was wearing pyjamas, shorts and a vest top, her hair a mess, her faced still creased from the pillow. He had to swallow his anger, shouting would get him nowhere, instead that protective instinct in him kicked in, “bloody hell. You look worse than I imagined.”

Her eyes snapped open at the voice and she grimaced in pain, “I thought it was...what are you doing here?” Instantly she closed her eyes again and groaned.

Dylan reached for her shoulders and turned her back into her home, he curbed his reaction to the travesty that it was, the hole she was forced to live in. Instead he directed her to bed. She groaned again as she sank to the pillows and as Dylan looked around he was glad that the place was shielded in the darkness of closed curtains.

                “What are you doing here?” She moaned.

He looked at her from the corner that qualified as a kitchen, “I was trying to get hold of you, then Sarah said you had a migraine. I remembered how bad they used to be...so I brought supplies.”

He found a towel and soaked it under the tap, then filled it with ice cubes, wrapping it into a long tube that he laid over her head before she had time to answer.

She gasped for a moment and he wanted to smile, but he was still angry.

                “You remembered?”

That did make him smile, “I’ve never known anyone be so rough with a migraine as you. I imagined they’d be better by now for some reason.”

                “They are...I stopped taking the pill a few years ago, I rarely get them now, it is literally a couple of times a year.”

He leaned against the counter studying her, “so it was due to the Pill?”

She gave a half shrug, “it’s hormonal, that seems to be the agreement. I cope most of the time.” She took a deep breath, “so if you’ve got ice...”

She half opened an eye then smiled as he held up the large bar of chocolate, “see our marriage wasn’t a complete waste of five years.”

That was a little bit awkward, and they both grimaced.

                “Thanks Dyl, I really appreciate this, but haven’t you got a plane to catch?”

Dylan looked at her, already she had a little more colour to her cheeks, and she was watching him from the corner of her eyes. “I can’t leave you HERE, like this.”

                “What do you mean?”

Dylan sighed; he could already sense her rising animosity, “this place. I cannot believe you live here.”

Taking the ice from her forehead she sat up and draped it around her neck, “Dylan, DO not go here, this is none of your business.”

                “But it is!” He leaned forward and stared at her, “it’s like bandit country out there, I fully expect my car to be stolen when I return. I cannot let you live here. It’s ridiculous.”

Her eyes were glaring, “you think? YOU have no claim over what I do. You gave that up when you fucked off to Hong Kong on YET another whim five years ago. WHY THE HELL do I have to KEEP going over this same point? You are my boss, that is IT. When will you learn that there is a line that you KEEP crossing? It’s bloody ridiculous. YOU are ridiculous. Go off to New York when you come back I’ll be well and I’ll pretend this exchange hasn’t happened. Now go.”

His heckles had risen as she got more and more angry, and now he was really riled, “if you think that all this is my fault then it’s my job to sort things out. And that’s what I’m good at.”

She shook her head, “I’m not a problem, I don’t need sorting. I appreciate the ice and the chocolate, I really do, but at no point have I asked for you judgement on my life. Now leave. Please.”

                “You heard the lady. I think you should go.”

The voice from the door caused them both to turn and stare. The last thing that Mattie wanted was Andy starting something here.

                “Thanks Andy, but he’s just leaving. Dylan, I’ll see you in a few days.”

He looked between the two of them, her scantily dressed, him with a key in his hand, a familiarity with her home as well as her.

                “How you can let her live here,” he shook his head then left.

                “Are you ok?” Andy rushed over, “sorry there was a queue at the pharmacy but I’ve got your meds.”

She’d called her neighbour when she woke with a blinding headache, and he’d immediately dropped everything to help her. But she didn’t appreciate the beating of chests and testosterone fuelled way he’d challenged Dylan. Dylan was her problem, no one else’s.

                “I had it covered then...I don’t appreciate you diving in...”

He sighed, “I was outside, I heard raised voices, you’re ill, I worried what was going on. So that’s him? The ex?”

Mattie lay back down, placing the ice on her head, “no, that’s my boss.”

Whilst Mattie was better and back in work the next day, it was a few days before she saw Dylan again. Brandy his assistant had stayed behind and Mattie LOVED her, she was a fun woman who was enthusiastic, supportive and a huge gossip. She reminded Mattie of her mother, she could imagine she gave amazing cuddles. And with her at work she had no need to speak to Dylan, so she didn’t. It meant she had time to get on with her work. The rooms were coming along, another six were complete and further eight were only waiting for the bathrooms to be installed. She was amazed at the diligence of the workers, but then she had promised them a night at the hotel if they completed to schedule. It was obviously a good incentive.

                “I’ve got a meeting in London with the advertising company at three,” she called out to Sarah as she passed. “It’s at the Grosvenor. I’m not coming back, so I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Sarah nodded, “it’s all quiet here. You sure you’re coming in tomorrow? It’s your weekend off, and Dan’s here with me.”

Mattie shrugged, “I was just going to catch up on some stuff here.”

                “Do what you have to over the weekend at home, come in Monday.”

Nodding Mattie agreed, packing her laptop into her bag as well as her files for the meeting, then left for the City.

Zenith Advertising had been in control of several huge campaigns across the city, and she had no need to see their glossy presentation. But it was all part of the schmooze. After all this golf weekend was a huge thing for the hotel and complex. As she was shown into a conference room in the hotel she immediately fought a grimace. Stood there talking to the woman she’d been in close contact with at the agency was the man she’d last seen storming out of her home four days earlier.

                “Ah, Miss Davies, it’s so good to see you here, and that your associate here could join us.” She smiled up at Dylan all wide eyed, “and we’re so glad to hear the ideas you have Mr Wallace.”

Dylan gave a genial smile and Mattie groaned, he was THE most charming man when he wanted...or needed to be.

Following the two into the room she listened to the chatter which was just one step away from flirting, and groaned. Yet another long day in the company of her enigmatic ex husband.

Mattie had fairly concrete ideas of what she wanted advertisement wise, and it was Sophia’s job to make those ideas come to life. Fortunately she’d spent time discussing this with Dylan, so she knew that his discussions with the rather nauseatingly pleasant blonde. Mattie sat back and watched, and it was a while before Dylan noticed that she wasn’t contributing.

                “You ok?”

She nodded, “you’re doing a fine job, I’m just making sure you don’t veer off into psychedelia or five minute TV advertisements.”

He smiled, “I have a cool head!”

Lifting an eyebrow she took the story board of sketches from him, “like that one, that one and maybe that. The others...not interested.”

When she looked up at him he was giving a knowing smile, a kind of proud moment, then turned back to Sophia, “you head the woman, that’s what we want!”

                “Can I buy you a drink somewhere?”

Mattie had gathered her bags and was about to head out of the hotel when she heard him skipping to catch up with her. “Before you say no, think about it. We need to clear the air, and you can bring me up to date on everything I’ve missed.”

Sighing she stared at him, the earnest smile, the strong jaw, the hair struggling to conform to his request, and those lovely eyes. “Do you always get your own way?”

With a shrug he opened the door for her, “with everyone but you. You ever listen when you’re told?”

She shook her head, “not even by my Dad.”

Dylan’s favourite club was less than ten minutes away, the basement of a plush hotel it had a very limited and exclusive guest membership.

                “What’s this a little boys’ club?” She asked with scorn.

He shrugged, “this place makes THE best Mojito in town, and they have the best vintage Krug champagne over anywhere. It’s worth the membership.”

As a man let them in, he led her to the bar and she was surprised to see she recognised people there from work, and meetings. Dylan ordered them a bottle of said champagne, then led her to a table in the corner of the room, hidden away from the rest of the room.

Sitting she watched him as the waiter brought the champagne and poured two glasses. “So,” she said when he left, “what’s this all about?”

He shrugged, “just a catch up.”

                “And we don’t mention Monday?”

Shrugging again he lifted his glass, “it wasn’t the best scene. I won’t back down on my concern at you living there, and I think that’s what is wrong, you’re thinking that I’m judging you. I’m not. You are an attractive business woman; you have as much business being in that neighbourhood as a tramp would here. I worry that you’re a potential victim, that you stand out like a sore thumb, that people are clocking your every move, watching, waiting for the time they know you’re on your way home. People do that. It’s a classic thing.”

                “I’ve lived there years, I know people. Don’t be so snobbish.”

He sighed, “you fit into East London like I fit in at Women’s Institute meeting. Come on woman, surely you can see this?”

Shaking her head she sipped her champagne then couldn’t fight the sigh of pleasure that it caused.

                “Would your neighbour appreciate two hundred pound champagne? Would they? NO. They’re more into cheap multipacks of strong lager. I know I sound judgemental, snobbish...call it what you want. But you are a professional woman, you manage a hotel. You have a role in life, a social level...”

                “Bullshit. I’m from a working class family...”

He laughed, “Your father? He was a teacher. That’s NOT working class. You are a graduate from one of the best business schools in the country. That means something. The laptop in your bag, your clothes...you ooze money and wealth.”

                “I’ve had NO money for years.”

He sighed, “that maybe so, but you look like you do. I’m not being snobby. I’m worried...about you. Ok?”

She watched him refill their glasses then gratefully took a drink, “I don’t need you to worry, and I don’t need you to judge, ok? I need you to just be my boss. That’s all.”

The champagne started to slide rather pleasantly down her throat, and now that they’d ‘discussed’ the issues of earlier in the week, the conversation was light hearted as they planned their project in more depth. They both had quite strong ideas about what they wanted to achieve, and fortunately there was a lot of common ground. By seven they had battled over several major issues, but as Mattie closed the file and slipped it back into her work bag, she was convinced that the next six weeks would go to plan, there was a plan for corporate deals, guest passes and spectator deals, each needed to be finalised, but she felt as though they’d made great progress.

                “I’ll take you home,” he announced standing up.

She smiled, “take a step back. Ok?”

He grimaced, “but...”

She shook her head, “I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.”

Forty minutes later as she got off the tube at her local stop, she looked at the area as she walked back to the tower block that was home, and started to see it through Dylan’s eyes. The rundown buildings and closed shops, the gang of youths in hoodies on bikes on the street corner, the vandalism...but then she saw the pub, Philip one of her new friends waving from the door, the old couple who ran the corner shop, and then Andy waving as he got out of his friend’s car. This was her home, and it wasn’t the worst place in the world.

Two weeks later and the plans for the golf weekend were well underway, Dylan was away again, but since their meeting in London they’d got along...well. Brandy was back in the States too, she’d sorted out all that Dylan needed her to in record time, all the while being an ally of Mattie’s. In fact she called her on several occasions since she’d been back in his New York office to keep her updated.

                “This is my last weekend off for six weeks,” Mattie announced at the end of the Friday staff meeting. “So I’m glad to know that you’re all ok and sorted.”

Sarah laughed, “we can survive without you. You doing anything nice?”

She shook her head, “may bomb down to Brighton if the sun is still shining.” Nobody realised who wonderful it was just to have a weekend with no agenda. After years of running two jobs, working for every possible penny, the thought that she didn’t have to moonlight, AND that she had a reasonable bank balance made her want to smile. She’d never be rich, but she was debt free, and that was still SO liberating.

The others filed out of the meeting room, but Sarah stayed, “I’m going to a new restaurant in Soho on Sunday. I NEVER get into town. Let me know if you’re free.”

Mattie travelled back after a day at the coast and wondered whether to make the trip in the following day, or to do as usual and go to the local pub for lunch with Andy. She did enjoy it, and the thought of travelling into the city on a hot Sunday didn’t exactly inspire her. But Sarah and Steve were fun; she enjoyed their company and hadn’t been out with them for ages.

It was a lovely day, so she decided to get off the train a few stops earlier and walk home, make the most of the weather. As she came up from the platform into the sunlight she saw a message blinking on her phone. A missed call from Dylan. He must be back. She tried his number, but it was engaged. Slotting the phone back in her pocket, she was glancing towards the floor when there was a tug to her bag. Instinctively she snatched herself away from what she presumed was a person, but as she looked up she came face to face with a hooded youth, a paisley scarf covering all but his eyes. He had both hands tight around her bag.

                “Get off!” She shouted trying to snatch it back, but concentrating on the boy in front of her meant she missed the second youth that approached from her right. She didn’t know which one hit her, but a blow to the side of her head sent her flying, as the floor got closer to her face, she realised that her hands were still gripping the bag...there was nothing to save her, to break her fall.

In the split second before the whole world turned black, she saw two sets of feet running away.