What about you? - 9

Chapter 9

Thud, thud, thud, Kate realised that the unbearable pulsing pain was her own head. Opening her eyes, she realised she was still on the sofa, flat out in Mason’s apartment. He was sat across the room in a large armchair, his laptop open on his knees and he seemed engrossed. She studied him for a few moments, his dark hair covering his bowed face, he was such a good looking man, strong features, but with a softness that she found so appealing. She could study him for ages and never get bored, then suddenly his eyes flicked up and met hers, and she noticed them flare with surprise.

                “Hey!” His voice was quiet as he lowered the lid on the laptop. “You ok? You’ve got a bit more colour at last.”

                “Did I...?” heat flushed her face as she remembered going woozy, had she fainted?

He nodded, “yep! You fainted. I made sure that was all it was honest.”

                “Was I out for a while?” The fact that she had no recollection was more than a little worrying.

Shaking his head, he leaned forward in the chair, “no, don’t you remember me helping you to get comfortable? You were a bit grumpy, but that’s how I knew you were ok!” His laugh set her nerves on edge.

Responding with a groan, Kate wondered when this perpetual humiliation would end. She was mortified, he’d carried her to bed, mopped her brow, cleaned up after her, fed her...not even her mother had done that much for her since she was in her teens, but then she couldn’t remember ever feeling this ill. Not that that made her feel any easier. This went against everything she was.

                “Do you want a drink?” he asked with a smile, jumping to his feet.  “You must be parched!”

She so wanted to stand up, but her head was too heavy, her body too weak, looking at him she fought to keep the anger and resentment out of her eyes giving a nod of confirmation.

He responded with a grin, “I bet this is torture hey? Having me wait on you...a loyal servant!”

Crossing the room he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice, “OJ ok? Or would you rather apple?”

Kate shrugged with indifference, it really was the least of her concerns, then she realised how ungrateful she seemed, “sorry Mason, this is all just so...”

He merely smiled offering her the glass half filled with juice, “not a problem, quite nice having someone here.”

Slumping back against the sofa she swallowed most of the drink in one go, hating the scrutiny of Mason, hating being in such a vulnerable position...but there was a large part of her that realised that if she’d been home...alone, then she’d have been in a horrible position, sick and alone. As it was he was looking after her, and she had to be grateful for that.

                “You feeling any better?” Mason had sat again in the chair opposite and was watching her intently.

She shrugged, that’s all she seemed to be doing, appearing disinterested like a petulant teenager! Shaking herself mentally, she smiled as best she could, “yes I do. Thanks for this Mason, I do appreciate it, I think I’m ready to go home now.”

He laughed out loud, “will you stop! You’re not Superwoman, you CANNOT do everything. Will you just relax and let me look after you for a minute? You’re ill, weak, prone to faint again. If you go home who’ll find you if you fall? Who’ll get you drinks? Medication? Chicken soup?” he asked with a flourish. “No one is the answer. This is a lucky situation where I have nothing in my diary, you need someone keeping an eye on you...so just go to sleep and get better. I’ll make us some food ok? You havent’ eaten by my reckoning in at least twenty four hours, probably more.”

He didn’t give her time to answer, instead she closed her eyes. It was the first time in years that she’d had nothing to do, that she’d lounged around with no agenda. If she didn’t feel ill she wouldn’t be here, and because she was ill she didn’t fully appreciate the freedom of the moment, but she also knew he was right. She’d struggle to make it to the bathroom alone, never mind the kitchen or back to the bedroom. No for a few more hours she needed his help, she just had to accept that.

Kate could barely keep her eyes open, and it was a while later that she woke to see him once again pottering in the kitchen in a pair of jeans and a vest, bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. For a moment she saw an insight into what? Her future? Mason cooking her dinner as she reclined and watched him, a feeling of contentment washed over her with that thought. This was normal, this was what most people aspired to. Peter would never look after her, but then she’d known that a long time...

He walked towards her, “Food’s ready, I’m really glad you’re awake. Do you need the bathroom? I’ve left some clean clothes on the bed if you want to freshen up.” Then offered a hand to pull her to her feet.

She nodded, “I will,” she took his hand and pulled herself up, then added, “and I’ll go myself.” Then turning back to look at him, she gave him her best smile, he didn’t deserve grouchy Kate.

Every step was a huge physical effort, but she made it there. She was relieved at the neatly folded sweater and joggers that lay on the bed, and in the relative safety of the bathroom, she changed, and did the obvious. A splash of water to her still hot face was like a tonic, and by the time she lumbered back to the lounge, she was exhausted, but slightly more refreshed.

The small table near the kitchen in the open plan room was laid ready for her to eat, and she gratefully lowered into one of the seats. The chicken he’d cooked the previous evening had been shredded and added to some other as yet unnamed yummy items and made into a beautiful soup that despite her fatigue, she managed to wolf down very rapidly.

Sitting back she groaned her hands over her stomach pleasantly full after the last twenty four hours that had passed in a blur. She didn’t even know the time. Glancing up at the clock she saw it was almost six in the evening, normally she’d be leaving work to see Peter...the thought turned her cold. Suddenly that earlier conversation came back to haunt her and she stared at him. How did he know about Peter?

Kate slowly lifted her eyes to Mason’s and she could see his anxiety at the sudden change in mood.

                “What’s wrong Kate?”

                “How do you know about Peter?”

He sat back in his chair with a sigh; he’d known this revelation would only lead to resentment, more anger. But he was ready for it.

                “After you disappeared last week, I spoke to Paula’s parents, they told me the little bit they knew from your brother, that you had a boyfriend who got injured...I hoped you’d fill in the rest.”

He watched the emotions ravage her face as she tried to decide what was the best outcome, how to play this situation.

                “Kate, I like you, you like me, I know that even if you deny it. Can’t we at least be honest with each other?”

                “I loved him more than anything,” the tears still came when she remembered how happy they’d been, how perfect their love had been. “He was everything to me, he still is. Which is why I can’t be here, with you...”

Mason looked for signs of how she really felt, she used the past tense talking about their relationship, he knew that she was lying to herself, he’d heard that Peter was seriously brain damaged, was in permanent residential care. This wasn’t a relationship, but he didn’t know how to make her see that.

He took gentle steps, treading carefully, “sometimes we have to let go Kate, sometimes things come to an end.”

She shook her head vehemently, “you’re just like the rest, everyone thinks they know what’s best for me! I LOVE him Mason, why do you find that so hard to believe?”

His retort slipped out before he registered what he was saying, “because you slept with me, and enjoyed every second of it. And when you look at me I KNOW you’re desperate to do it again, I KNOW that Kate, so what I really want to know is, what the hell are you hiding from?”

Kate wanted to get away, to run, to hide, to lick the painful wounds that the world seemed intent on opening on a regular basis. But she was bloody exhausted, both from being floored by this awful flu, but also the stress and tribulations that her life was on a daily basis. She regretted so much succumbing to even going to her brother’s wedding, if she hadn’t she’d never have met Mason, never have been tempted to sleep with him, and never have given someone else access to her inner life.

She stood, taking a deep breath, “If I could leave here I would, but I don’t think I could really make it to the door. But I’m going to take myself to bed, I know it’s your bed...but I really don’t think I can sit here and justify why I love Peter to you. I made a mistake with you, a big mistake, but please don’t think that you’ve suddenly got some control over my life. You may not ‘do’ one night stands, but I apparently do.”

Mason sighed, watching her stagger out of the room, so much for playing it cool and showing her he understood. As it was he may well have blown it. Clearing the plates, he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, this woman was more than driving him to drink. He desperately needed to either win her over, of get her out of his life.  As much as he hoped it was the former, he feared he’d be returning to Dubai with his tail between his legs all too rapidly.

Before he turned in for the night, or rather laid out on the sofa, his phone rang. It was Brandon, his business partner. His wife had had their baby earlier that day. This meant he was needed back in Dubai, soon, to give the new father some well deserved time off. Looking up to the sky in exasperation, he rued his indecision making with regards to Kate the last week or so, he had to act quickly, but if he told her the whole truth he knew he’d have no chance. Shaking his head he settled down to sleep, tomorrow would bring some big changes.

Quick thank you!

Sorry haven't had chance to thank you all for comments and interest until now. Thank you:)
This is a more complicated story than I'm used to, and as you may notice I am trying to attack slightly different writing styles, and am SO pleased to have feedback as to how things are going, at the end of the day these are still works in progress!!


I kind of don't want to comment too deeply as I don't want to spoil what little suspense there is!!


Samaira T - thanks for reading every chapter you missed AND commenting on everyone! It's so helpful! Don't think Peter will ever recover, but he's still a real complication. Poor him :(


Annie - you too, every episode. Some of you are pretty good at spotting where we're going too!!  


M.C. - love new names, and new perspectives! Thanks!


Lovely - the bad stuff is starting to come out!


nessa - hope you're sticking with it, sorry if it's too complicated.


Pia - you too. Hope the complications don't put you off, I'm hoping it all becomes clearer for you


Anonymous - glad that it's interesting, and yup you're pretty much right...so far!


Lively - Interesting!! You may be right, you may be wrong!!! :)
diya - it IS more emotional, I'm glad that came across!! :)


alisonwonderland - yep, thus far Mason is ticking all the right boxes... :)


Oh and thanks Reena for your comments at the end of Cross the Line - hope you're enjoying this as much!!




Thank you all once again, your comments enlighten me!! :)


MZ

What about you? - 8

Chapter 8

The week rolled around with Kate feeling that she hadn’t had a real break. Work was more hectic than usual, she was in the process of closing a big account so she had a lot of presentations and meetings. She was working late every night, then there was Peter, she headed straight to spend the evening with him afterwards, and then on Tuesday she headed back into the office after that. Coupled with the emotional trauma the last few weeks had evoked, by the time she left work on Wednesday she was dead on her feet.

The thought of the tube ride home caused her pain she was so tired, but she had no real choice. She swore she’d just collapse into bed; she was too exhausted to even think of food. As she paused waiting for a break in traffic to allow her to cross the road, a sleek black coupe pulled level with her, and the window slid down. Glancing in to the car she spotted Mason leaning across to see her.

                “Can I give you a lift? Apologise? You look shattered.” His voice was humble and he genuinely looked concerned.

Kate had a split second to decide what to do. Fight her way home on the tube, or slide in to this warm comfy car and be driven. In her head there was no choice, she trusted Mason, he’d get her home, it was always herself that she worried about.

With a groan at her own weakness, and a snappy and very sarcastic “haven’t you got the greatest timing...yet again!”, she reached for the door and sank into the passenger seat. Unable to look at Mason for a moment, she twiddled her thumbs watching the road as he pulled out into the moving traffic.

He ignored her iciness, “You ok? You look awful.”

She laughed, turning to look at him, “you sure know how to make a gal feel good!”

His smile was dazzling and tinged with more than a little relief. He’d intended to park the car and walk into the building, catch her off guard, but she’d appeared earlier than he’d anticipated. As soon as he’d seen her step onto the pavement from the security of her office he’d been worried. She did look gaunt, and he’d felt an urge of protectiveness wash over him. The devil on his shoulder also could tell that tonight she was too tired to fight him, or any of his advances. Part of him wanted to take advantage of that, but whilst he hadn’t always been, he was now a gentleman, and she deserved better than that.

Mason hated London rush hour traffic, they barely moved, creeping along the main route away from her business. They were silent for a few minutes, and when he turned to her to ask where she lived – though he had a rough idea, he saw she was fast asleep.  In that moment he made the decision to head to the apartment he was renting in central London, she’d probably be mad, but she looked like she needed a meal cooked, a hot drink. Her brother said she lived with a couple of men who weren’t the most domestic. So he swung in the opposite direction and made for his place.

In the underground car park below the apartment block, he pulled into a space, then taking a deep breath headed for the passenger door. Kneeling Mason slid an arm under her knees, the other behind her and pulled her out of the car and into his arms. She was so deeply asleep that she allowed him to lift her, even nuzzling against him for a moment.

Calling the elevator was awkward and it woke her, glaring up at him confusion lifted from her frown with each prolonged second.

                “What are you doing? Where are we?”

Mason took another deep breath, “you were asleep, so I brought you back to mine, thought you’d be glad of a meal, someone to look after you. Plus I didn’t know where you lived.”

She sighed, both loving and hating the proximity to his hard and warm body, “can you put me down?”

He shook his head, “can’t you accept I’m a friend?”

She gulped, “a friend?”

Nodding he moved out of the lift in long strides, “yep, a friend who thinks you need a break! Now please!”

Mason managed to open the apartment door and carry her through to the hallway. Lowering her to the floor, he smiled, “I’ve got a very juicy chicken in the fridge, amongst other things. I reckon I’ll have a meal ready in an hour.” He pointed to a door, “the shower’s through there if you want one, or at least some joggers or a t-shirt for you to relax in. OK?”

She still wasn’t sure, but the thought of heading home to an empty house, a microwave meal for one and Mike and Steve fighting on the Xbox was a poor comparison to this warm, modern and comfortable apartment. “This goes against my better judgement!” she offered, but her reward was a warm smile.

                “Tell me about it!”

With that he made for the kitchen.

The room he’d directed her into was a bedroom, but through it she could see an en suite bathroom. As promised the wardrobe was filled with clothes, and amongst the shirts, jeans and jumpers she found a pair of soft well worn grey lounge pants and a t-shirt. Lifting them to her cheek she appreciated their softness, then taking a sniff she groaned, he should bottle that scent, it’d get her through many a dark night.

A shower was just what the doctor ordered, it was invigorating, but as she dragged on his borrowed clothes, the exhaustion returned.

Mason looked up as the door opened, the chicken was cooking, he’d prepared the veggies, all he needed was to open some wine. Seeing her he froze. Dwarfed by his too large clothes, damp hair scraped back from her face she looked young, vulnerable and very pale. His heart tugged in a protective way, he’d never felt like this about a woman before, never had more than a lustful urge, but in that instant of spotting her all he felt was a compulsion to see her vibrant, bright and happy again.

                “Hey! You ok?”

She smiled, “I’m just a bit cold.”

He came across the room to her, “you should’ve dried your hair.”

                “I’m too tired.” She slumped onto the sofa, “I’ve had a taxing few weeks, it’s obvious taken it out of me!”

He reached for a blanket and tucked it around her, “dinner will be an hour, just have a sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s cooked and then take you home. OK?”

Her eyes were already drifting shut as she nodded.

An hour later he was more than a little concerned. She’d changed from sleeping peacefully to tossing and turning, her face was flushed and her skin hot. He’d tried to wake her, but she’d only groaned.

                “Mum?” It was all he could think of in a crisis. Fortunately she answered on the fourth ring.

He could hear both the surprise and the pleasure in her voice, “Hi Mason!” Once again he felt a twinge of guilt at the way he’d abandoned her over the years. The rift between him and his step father was nothing to do with her, yet he’d blamed her by disappearing for so long. “What’s gone wrong?”

He laughed, “Nothing! Oh ye of little faith! No I’ve got a friend here who’s not very well. Hot, shivering and I can’t really wake her. What should I do?”

                “Sounds like flu. They need plenty of fluid and paracetamol if you can manage it, that’ll help the temperature come down. And rest of course. Do you need a doctor?”

He wasn’t really sure, “I don’t think so, I’m hoping she’ll be a little better soon.”

                “Call me later let me know how this friend is, ok?”

He hated her knowing chuckle as he hung up. He had some paracetamol, part of his usual hangover cure, and filled a large glass with cold water.

                “Hey Kate,” he shook her gently but she barely roused, so he placed the glass to her lips. As soon as the cold water touched them she instinctively drank. After a few mouthfuls she opened her eyes slowly.

To Kate it felt like her head was caving in. Her whole body ached and she was freezing cold, her last thought was having the shower, she was supposed to be just stopping for dinner. Looking up into Mason’s concerned eyes she felt panicked. “What’s happening?” The words were like sandpaper against her throat.

                “I think you’ve got flu,” he stroked the hair from her sweaty brow. “You need to take these pills and finish this water. Then I’m putting you to bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

                “But...” She started to protest, but he silenced her by raising a hand.

                “You’re not really fit enough to get home, and then there’s no one to look after you. So you’re staying here. Not a subject for debate.”

She had Steve and Mike at home but also knew they may well be out, even if they were in they weren’t renowned for their caring attributes. Neither was likely to make her a drink let alone anything else. SO for the second time that evening she succumbed, taking the tablets, the water, and then allowing Mason to carry her to his bed.

Kate didn’t remember much about the night, but she woke tangled in the damp bed sheets feeling a million times better. She looked across the room to the clock and gasped when she saw it was ten on the morning. She had a full diary for today. Lifting her head she tried to sit, but the effort was far too much for her weary body and she slumped back against the pillows panicking all over again.

                “Mason?” her voice was a hoarse rasp but she really couldn’t muster anything else. She could hear movement elsewhere in the apartment, so he hadn’t deserted her. She looked around the room, a modern very neutral room but could see nothing that she could throw, drop or bang to alert his attention.

As she was trying rather feebly to reach for the bedside table, the door opened and Mason’s concerned face peered in. Seeing her struggling he rushed over to the bed.

                “You ok?”

                “I should be in work!” there was panic in her voice, but he smiled.

                “I spoke to your boss at half seven explained you were really not very well. He thought you’d been pushing yourself a bit hard the last few weeks. He wants you to take a few days off, he’ll present to the Light Harmony people...is that right?”

She nodded then slumped back with a groan, “thanks, I may not seem the most grateful person in the World. I just wanted to apologise for being ill like this. I’m so sorry.”

Kate was trying desperately to sit up, but Mason could see she was exhausted; he rushed over and restrained her with a hand to the shoulder, “don’t get up. Look I brought you here, and to be honest I’m glad I did, you were almost delirious in the night, I was worried about you...if you’d been on your own, well I dread to think!”

She shuddered for several reasons, that he’d seen her in such a mess, that she was there at all, and of course the fear of what she may have said in her sleep, after all she seemed to carry several demons around with her. Mason had spotted that look of panic and smiled, “you’re fine. But I do suggest I take you into the other room, fresh bedding on the sofa, then I’ll strip this bed.”

                “You don’t have to ‘take’ me anywhere, and I really do need to go home!”

She swung her legs out of the bed, but the exertion made her breathless, as she tried to stand the room went fuzzy and she almost collapsed back on the bed. But Mason caught her, “you’re only going to wherever I take you, so relax and stop fussing. Ok?”

She felt like crying, but what could she do, she’d never felt so ill, and Mason did speak some truth, if she’d been at home alone she’d have been terrified. So she allowed him to lift her and carry her into the lounge. Laying her onto the blanket that he’d laid over the leather sofa, he pulled a thin quilt over her. Kate groaned so embarrassed at her position, but completely unable to do anything about it.

Mason made short work of remaking the bed with clean linen, and was following the intricate recipe his mother had read out to him over the phone for her special chicken soup when a voice cut through the silence.

                “That smells good.” Her voice was still rough, her throat sore, but she didn’t feel like the whole of her body was in a tight vice.

He grinned across the open plan from room, “it’s my mother’s recipe, she recommended it, and I have no idea how it tastes...yet. You look better.”

She nodded, “Not quite so bad. And I can sit up on my own!” As if to demonstrate, she swung ehrslef into sitting, took a few deep breaths to steady her swirling head, then smiled, “see?”

Shrugging, he poured her a glass of water and came towards her with it and a couple more pills, “sorry but I’m quite enjoying it, and you’d better get used to me carrying you around, you’re going to be stuck here for another day or two at least.”

He watched her flushed face turn paler by the second as she floundered, tried to climb to her feet. Reaching for her shoulders he pushed her back down to the sofa, “You’re not going anywhere Kate. So just relax.”

Kate had never flet this enclosed, restricted and claustrophobic, as she tried to think of how to get out of this, in the end she glared up at him, “I CAN’T stay here, you don’t understand! I have responsibilities!”

He nodded, “yeah, Peter. I know! His mother’s going to visit until you’re feeling better!”

As she took in the words it felt as though her heart had stopped beating and the room got darker and darker, but as she fainted, collapsed, or whatever you wanted to call it, her last thought wasn’t ‘how the hell does he know’, it was relief, that she didn’t have to hide it anymore.

What about you? - 7

Chapter 7

Friday’s were the worst days of the week. After a long day working, she headed to see Peter. Friday was the night she took him out for food. Usually a fast food joint, he had regressed to the appetite of a child, and this Friday was no exception. They’d been to MacDonald’s, and it had been every bit as difficult as normal. Because Peter looked normal, she hated that word, but because externally there were no obvious signs from his accident, people often got offended at his bluntness, childish behaviour or his eating habits. Tonight he’d thrown fries from the upstairs balcony down to the queues waiting to be served. Eventually the manager had come over and she’d had to take him home before he’d had his apple pie. That meant he hadn’t gone to bed without shouting and crying. It was well after ten when Kate finally left the residential home, to make her way to her home. She hated getting the tube after dark, well alone anyway, so she took the bus. It was longer, but without the daily traffic it was less of a trauma than it could’ve been.

She’d barely taken a seat when her phone rang. Looking at the display she smiled to see it was Tilly.

                “Hey Tilly, how are you?”

Her friend chuckled, “good, I wondered how your evening went. How was Peter?”

                “Fine! Though I think we’re banned from yet another MacDonald’s!”

Tilly laughed, “You have the patience of a Saint! Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? Ashton is going to some football game, and there’s a bottle of Sambucca in my fridge just waiting for someone to devour.”

Where did she ever get a friend like Tilly? And what had she done to deserve her? She’d met Tilly on her second day at University; they were instant friends and had barely done anything without consulting the other since. She was the sister Kate had never had and she couldn’t begin to count how many times she’d cried on her shoulder. Sometimes she pitied her for having such a one-sided friend.

At that moment she decided to buy her a gift, and promised to not complain of cry throughout the whole afternoon. She was with Peter on Sunday, so she had to fit in all her weekly chores before going. A squeeze, but she knew she’d enjoy it!

“I’ll be there!”

Tally’s response was a sigh of relief and pleasure.

For the rest of the journey Kate’s mind wandered back to those carefree University days, particularly Tilly’s nineteenth birthday. They’d gone to a party in the University, dancing, drinking well into the early hours. It was as she’d been stood at the bar ordering their umpteenth drink that the most handsome man in the World had appeared beside her, within seconds they were talking and she was mesmerised by him. They were inseparable from that moment on. Peter, the love of her life.

Saturday morning had been a blur of laundry, grocery shopping, and a little investigation for work. Then she bathed, relaxed, pampered herself a little before heading to Tilly’s stunning house.

The smell of some divine creation met her nasal receptors as soon as the door opened. Hugging her friend she groaned, “It should be illegal how good this house smells!” Holding out an 80’s CD and a blue glass vase filled with sunflowers.

“For being such a good friend!” She smiled when she saw the surprise on Tilly’s face.

Laughing she led her friend into the kitchen, a huge room which was definitely the heart of this home. She was continually amazed by how her flighty hippy friend Tilly had morphed into the domestic goddess that she now was. She still worked, an assistant in a designer boutique, something that she loved, but now it was more of a hobby, Ashton was seriously rich, some bank guru. Kate knew relatively little about the world of finance, and wasn’t inclined to investigate further, but Ashton’s long hours and weekends away landed him with a huge salary and a beautiful home in the most exclusive part of London. And Tilly was Lady of that Manor.

                “Champagne?” Tilly opened the fridge then turned to smile at her friend.

Kate shook herself back to the present, she’d spent the last few days dwelling in the past, was that the effect of Mason disturbing her equilibrium? “It depends,” she smiled. “Are we celebrating?”

Tilly bit her lips trying to hide her beaming smile, then nodded, “we’ve set a date!”

It was the most debated topic in the Modern World, Ashton and Tilly agreeing on first a date and then a location for their much awaited nuptials. Ashton had a huge family in Texas, as well as London, Tilly had her parents, who ran a guest house in Cornwall and her friends. They were vastly different and Tilly wanted something comfortable. Many times she’d confided to Kate that she feared her parents would be dwarfed in the size and formality of the wedding that Ashton envisaged, not that they couldn’t scrub up Kate knew that wasn’t the issue, it was more that it wasn’t her scene, or her parents.

                “Oh My GOD!” Kate exclaimed jumping to her feet. “If you’ve agreed then it’s what you want, so I’m thinking understated? Simple...Summer?”

As the two girls embraced excitedly Tilly was nodding, “we’ve booked it, a small but exclusive hotel in Cyprus, it’s easy for everyone to get to, and then we can fly off to Asia for our honeymoon. I’m fancying the Orang-utans in Borneo! Anyway, it’s a gazebo on a beautiful beach, idyllic, and quiet. We’re limiting to immediate family and close friends only, but he can have the biggest party he wants when we get back to London. But we’re not waiting until the summer; we’ve booked for February the tenth!”

Kate was feeling her heart sink with each word, though she tried to hide her disappointment. “February? We’re in November already! You’ve not given us much time to plan!”

Tilly took her hands and squeezed them, “will you come? I know it’ll be hard...”

Kate took a deep breath, “I’ve not left Peter that long. I don’t know how it’ll work...” At that moment she spotted her friend’s face sink and knew that Tilly deserved this, and if she was any type of friend that she’d manage things, somehow. “OFCOURSE I’ll be there! Don’t think I wouldn’t for a second!” As they hugged again Kate tried to think how she’d break this to Peter. Well there was no rush yet, and she’d deal with it when she had to.

The champagne flew down their throats, and at the same time they tucked into the fish pie Tilly had created. It was beautiful, and followed by yet another bottle of champagne. When Ashton returned from his football match, which if Kate knew Ashton was more business than pleasure, they were both more than tiddly, dancing around the kitchen to cheesy eighties music.

                “So you’ve demolished ALL the champagne then?” He asked with a smile, to which they both nodded enthusiastically, grabbing an arm each and catapulting him into their dancing circle.

Tilly shouted, “And we haven’t even reached the Sambucca yet!”

                “But we’re celebrating you setting a date!”

Ashton laughed as he reciprocated their twists and turns.

Later that evening he’d gone to the cellar to select what he’d warned them was the last bottle of wine for the evening when Tilly took Kate’s hand.

                “I hope the wedding doesn’t cause you too much hassle. You know I think that you are too accommodating to Peter. Things changed when he had the accident, pretending you’re still engaged, spending all that time with him...”

Kate smiled, “I know, you think I indulge him. But I owe him that much.”

Shaking her head Tilly leaned towards her, “I was all for it when I thought it was helping his rehabilitation, but the only thing I see now, is you giving your life to a man who gives you nothing in return. I think you need to seriously start breaking away love."

Sighing Kate knew there was an element of truth in what she said, but it still didn’t mean she could just walk away; it wasn’t as easy as that. “I know what you’re saying, but I can’t drop out of things like that, it’s complicated.”

Tilly shook her head again, “if you said ‘I still love him’ then I’d understand, but you haven’t, you don’t!” Her voice was quiet and Kate felt nausea rising as she carried on.  “I don’t want us to fall out over this, but I mean this Mason character, without Peter on the scene he could be The One!”

                “You’ve not met him! You’d be disappointed!”

Tilly nursed her wine glass as she watched her friend squirm like a prisoner being tortured, “I don’t know about that! You’ve not as much as looked at a man in years, then you have sex with him? I’m thinking he must be a special man!”

She pondered her friend’s suggestion for a little while before replying, “He found me, I thought as he lived away I’d never see him again. He was outside my work on Wednesday...”

Tilly jumped up a mix of emotions flooding through her, “he came to find you? What did he say? Are you seeing him again?...Oh shit! Did he disturb your only evening in?”

Kate chuckled, suddenly seeing more humour than she had all week as she answered each of her questions, “Yes...he wants to see me again...I said no...and yes! My evening in became as hectic as the rest of them!”

                “See him again...go on! At least see how it works out!”

                “I can’t!” That was the truth, though she didn’t tell Tilly that she couldn’t bear to see him and know she’d never kiss him, be held by him, or even touch him. Talking was too painful and she had always managed her life to avoid situations that would challenge her resolve, her psyche. Until now. “I’ve told him to leave and not contact me again. It’s for the best!”

Tilly was distraught, “Oh Kate, please! I wish you’d think about it! I worry about you alone...Saying that, if he’s the sort of man who finds you, finds where you work to see you, he isn’t going to give up that easily!” Seeing her friend suddenly pale, she pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, “Oh Kate, please don’t be upset, I just want to see you happy. Here’s me about to get married, and all I want is you to be as happy as me. Nothing else!”

Ashton appeared at that moment with the wine and Kate wondered if he’d been listening to the conversation, choosing a time when he actually wanted to walk into the room.

Sunday was Peter’s day. She spent at least one day each weekend with him. He liked to go bowling, or on the amphibian vehicle City tour, around the London Eye or to picnic on Primrose Hill. Every week was only a slight variation on the previous one, but some days he was quiet, subdued, another time loud, disruptive and hard to manage. He’d never been violent, he was moody and verbally aggressive more than physically, but there was always an underlying risk, so it was never a comfortable trip out, saying that, she had more control over him than anyone else. He listened to her when she chastised him, and more often than not acted on her words.

               “When are we getting married?” he asked swinging her arm elaborately as they walked hands entwined along the path across the park at Primrose Hill. They’d not picnicked as it was cold, but they’d flown a kite and had ice-cream. The poignancy that from a distance they looked like any young couple in love never failed to choke her. Outside of the residential home he was vulnerable, that was why he was so rude or disruptive, but here walking he hung on to her hand through necessity. Half way into each day out, the same question was asked, and he received the same answer.

                “You know you’ve got to finish your treatment, get a job. How else can you buy me nice things and look after me?”

He chuckled, as he always did, “when I do get a job I’ll buy you a bigger ring! A nicer one that this one!” He thumbed her diamond and smiled, “I can’t wait for that, it’s all that keeps me going, you know that don’t you?”

She nodded, knowing of all those things that he said to manipulate and control people, these words were the truth. He saw her as his link to the past, to reality and to some sort of future. Whenever he complained of a headache, Kate knew he was having more memories of how he was before the accident, occasions, places. She couldn’t begin to imagine how confusing and disorientating that was to him, someone without the mental capacity to cope with it. How could she destroy that hope and optimism? How could she let him down?

What about you? - 6

Chapter 6

Despite it being a fairly unassuming pub, no sooner had they sat than a young boy who could only have been in his late teens, appeared at their table with a note pad, and glanced at them from under his jet black asymmetrical hair.

                “Can I get you anything?”

Mason smiled, pleased that waiter service prevented them from being separated whilst he ordered drinks, he had the idea that Kate would leave if she got half a chance. “A bottle of red wine, Rioja I think, and food menus?”

The boy nodded and disappeared.

Kate was surprisingly flattered by his ‘alpha male’ approach to ordering. She thought she’d have lashed out, been angry, but it had been a long long time since anyone had taken control and done things for her and she felt for a moment like a princess, protected and cared for, rather than the anger she’d imagined she’d feel.

Sighing she relaxed into the chair and watched Mason as he poured the wine then handed her both a glass and a menu. This was his idea, so she’d leave the conversation to him. Sipping the wine she murmured in appreciation, it was rich and fruity without being too heavy or overpowering, he’d definitely hit home with a Spanish red.

Mason was struggling to concentrate around her, every inch of his body was aware of every inch of hers. The little things she did, her fingers tucking stray hair behind her ear, the way she bit her bottom lip nervously, all dragged up erotic memories of that night weeks ago, the night that had become the bench mark for all others.

He’d been devastated when he woke to an empty room. The empty thud in his chest had remained since that moment. Asleep with her in his arms he’d made so many plans. He’d been in Dubai for years, made more than a success of his life, his mother had been nagging him to come home since her husband had died, and with him the animosity and anger towards Mason. He’d been swayed a little by the sight of his aging mother, and that explosive night with Kate had only added to that. He’d woken so full of optimism, thinking of new times, a change, only to find it crash around his ears within a second.

He’d returned to his home, to the plush lifestyle that he couldn’t imagine leaving until the second he set eyes on her, and it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied.

Seeing her again made him realise that it wasn’t JUST good sex. He’d connected with her in a way he hadn’t before, and as he sat across the table from the silent Kate, he didn’t know how to express how devastating his life was without her in it.

The silence continued as they perused the menu and sipped at the wine. Mason waved the young waiter away as they were still yet to decide, then Mason finally looked at her.

                “Kate, I don’t want this to end now, I want to see you again. I don’t know why you ran away or why you’re so desperate to push me away, but I can’t just roll over and accept that. I know you feel the same!”

He reached for her hand and she flinched snatching it free of him. He wasn’t sure whether she was offended, or as affected by the contact as he was, either way she was anything but immune to him. He took that as a good sign.

As a response she shook her head, “it was fun. You’re a nice guy, but sorry, there’s no life left in this.”

The waiter disturbed the tension and took their orders, Mason couldn’t think of eating anything, but he did choose a steak sandwich, then watched in amazement as Kate ordered fish and chips. He wasn’t sure if it was her appetite in the middle of so much tension that astounded him, or the fact that she actually ate normal food. The women he’d dated albeit briefly in Dubai were about as likely to refuse a gift as they were to actually eat food in front of him.

                “I don’t believe you Kate. I’m sorry. The other night...well it was amazing. And I don’t get into situations like this likely. Can’t we just try a few dates? See how we get along? I’m not suggesting marriage, I’m not a psycho stalker, I just can’t turn my back on something as special as this.” Mason gasped at his own honesty, he was pleading, begging for another chance and he should’ve been embarrassed, but he wanted this too much to care about that.

She was still determined, but he had no idea how difficult it was for her to hang on to the little control she had left. Kate was never more relieved than when the huge plate of fish and chips were deposited in front of her, complete with a huge bowl of what looked like home made tartare sauce, in times of stress she definitely found comfort in food. With a groan of appreciation she reached for a thick wedge of potato and ate it, savouring every moment, it was only then she realised that she hadn’t eaten all day, she’d worked through lunch, hoping that she could get home early for a bath and early night...so much for that. After a few mouthfuls she realised that Mason was sat back observing her, not touching his own food.

                “Not hungry?” she asked, hoping to draw attention from her rapidly emptying plate.

He shrugged, “suddenly I don’t have a great appetite.”

Placing down her knife and fork, she looked at him, “now you’ve made me feel like an insensitive cow!”

With a half sigh he picked at a piece of tomato sat on his place and popped it in his mouth.

After another few mouthfuls she stopped again, this was so awkward, the silence stretched out in front of them and it had now affected Kate’s appetite too.

                “I don’t know what you want me to say!” she announced.

                “All I want is you to agree that there’s more than a night of great sex between us.”

It all came back to him wanting more than she could offer, “you’re fun Mason, and I like you, but I tried to tell you in the hotel, there’s someone else, what happened never should have, and no amount of meals, talking and debating will change that. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I’ve never promised anything more.”

Mason felt the words cut through him like a knife, “I don’t believe that Kate. If you loved someone else you’d not have let anything happen between us. So either you really are a heartless cruel bitch who enjoys leading on as many men as she can, OR you’re lying to me for some reason.”

She smiled at him and he felt the shutters come down on any conversation, “you’re right Mason, I’m a first class bitch and you were just part of my plan! Now it’s a closed chapter. I’m too busy for this.” Pushing away her plate, she stood and pulled on her coat, with a smile that offered regret, then she left.

Mason could have chased after her, but he was too busy trying to decipher his way through all that she’d said and done. He didn’t believe she was the bitch she admitted to being, there was something else happening and he had to get to the bottom of it. He also knew he was risking his own sanity in pursuing her, but it was the only option he could consider.

Leaning back in his seat he thought back to the wedding, the way her mother and brother were with her, even Roger’s speech...there was a sense of pity linked to her and he knew that was what was behind her refusal to contemplate him.  There was nothing else for it; he’d speak to Roger, Paula and Kate’s brother Stuart if he had to. But he would get to the bottom of this.

Kate had left the pub at a run, wanting to put as much distance between her and Mason, it had taken every ounce of her energy to hurt him again, to walk away, but she’d done it. Hopefully she’d never see him again, the temptation would be gone and she could go back to being Kate. Just Kate.

Instead of turning left and heading for the tube station, she turned right, cutting through the London streets until she saw the familiar ornate building in the distance. Wednesday was not her night to come here, and she knew it was guilt that had dragged her there. With heavy feet she approached the doors. Stopping on the raised doorstep she rang the bell and as she waited rifled through her bag. Finding the rather understated diamond ring and sliding it on to her ring finger, she was smiling and transformed as the door opened.

                “Kate!” the smartly dressed woman who opened the door exclaimed. “We didn’t expect you tonight. Peter will be pleased!”

Kate grinned, “I was in the area...you know how it is. How’s he been?”

The woman shrugged, “he was very upset earlier. His mother was due in today but apparently she’s not well, so couldn’t. So he wasn’t pleased. You know how he is with routine.”

Kate’s heart sank, she knew exactly how much routine mattered to Peter. She’d have to phone Clarissa later, if she was ill then Kate would bear the load, as usual. She knew that, and it’d be hard.

Up the stairs and along a corridor she paced the familiar route through Brentfort Residential Home until she came to room 224. Knocking briefly she peered around the door, taking a second to read the situation before an excited ‘KATE!” bellowed across the room.

Peter was sat in bed, a young male carer trying his best to read to him, but she knew how hard a task this could be, he was so hard to please.

                “Shall I take over Peter?”

He nodded, leaning back against the pillows triumphantly, “you can go!” He snarled at the man. “Now!”

                “Don’t be rude Peter!” she chided smiling apologetically at the carer. As he left the room she sat beside him and took over the book. Glancing at the cover, she sighed, he’d read or had read to him every night for six years The Twits by Roald Dahl, and every night he laughed and groaned at the same lines. It should be easy to re read the same book, but unfortunately there was a distinct way he liked it read, and she was by far the best in his eyes. “How far had you got?” she asked, knowing he’d remember the exact word.

                “The birds in the trees Kate, the birds in the trees!”

Smiling she mimicked her version of the voice of Mr Twit and carried on the story.

Half an hour later he was fast asleep, his dark hair falling over his eyes, the angelic look that she’d fallen in love with etched on his face. Stroking his hair, she stooped to kiss his forehead. He’d been such a beautiful man before that day, the day that would forever be ingrained in her mind, it had taken his youth, his vitality, and in a horrendous twist of fate, he now had the mental age of a nine year old. The rest of her life would see her tied to an eternally petulant and childish boy, and there was nothing she could do about it.