“Why?” She was genuinely confused why she’d need to get used to anything when she was going home in a matter of days. Her final thought caused a sudden sadness to wash over her.
“Because when you live out here you’ll need to be mobile and as you don’t like to be driven by Mike...”
“Jim, I have no plans to live out here.”
“But you will, baby,” he said with an air of authority in spite of his baby endearment. “So, do you want to drive?”
“Do I have a choice?” She thought there was unlikely to be a choice.
“Depends.” He grinned.
“On what?” Her question was loaded with amusement and intrigue at the prospect of his reply.
“On whether you’re going to submit to it willingly or not. If you are then of course you have a choice, if not, then no, you don’t.”
“I didn’t realise I was going out with Mr Control Freak today.” She grinned before cutting her eyes and pouting.
“Baby, he is always here, listening and watching, ready to take charge. Now stop pouting and get in the car.” He threw his keys towards her and grinned as she caught them.
They had only travelled a couple of miles when she admitted, “This isn’t as bad as I thought. Apart from turning and remembering where everything is.”
“Told you you could do it, didn’t I?” He continued before she answered, “Where’s your phone? Let me listen to what you listen to.”
“It’s in my bag,” she replied. “Purse as you say over here.”
Once it was plugged into the stereo he began to flick through. “Your music makes me feel old. It sounds like Philip’s.”
She laughed. “Good, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the club tonight.”
He set her music to shuffle and sat back as she followed his directions.
“Are you really inclined to dance on tables?”
“Sometimes. I’m twenty-one and when I go out with my friends we drink and dance and have fun. It’s no more than that.” She hoped her words were reassuring.
“I don’t like to think of you putting on a show.”
“It’s not a show, Jim. Really it isn’t. It’s just dancing. I told you, there is only one place, one person I’m coming home to and that’s you. And I will be with Juan and Philip, who captures everything on his phone so you can see our night out.”
Following a muttered response, Jim spoke more clearly. “Just be careful. Don’t leave your drink unattended. Don’t accept drinks from anyone else. Don’t go anywhere on your own and don’t drink too much.”
“Okay,” she replied, somehow resisting the temptation to add a sarcastic Dad at the end.
“I mean it.” His voice took on a gruff tone and sounded more like an overprotective father than before.
“Okay, I know.” She grinned despite his serious tone.
“So, why didn’t you tell me about coming to Broadway?” he asked curtly, swinging conversation to something else he’d been annoyed by the previous night.
“Because it’s only a possibility, a remote one and on the plane Parker asked if I’d been in anything he might have seen and it just came out.” She risked a small, cautious glance in his direction, knowing Howser was still a very sore subject for Jim.
“I don’t want you to talk to other people about stuff before me. It makes me feel uncomfortable when I find things out incidentally. More than that, it pisses me off.”
“I’m beginning to realise, sorry. We really don’t know each other at all, do we?” There was a sad realisation, if they’d had so many misunderstandings in their short time together how on earth would they manage on opposite sides of the Atlantic?
“Not before last Friday, no. Which is why I need to know everything. Why we need to talk, to each other.” He reached across and placed a hand on her knee and gently squeezed it. “Pull over, baby. I’ll drive from here.”
It was about another half an hour before the car turned into a long driveway and Tasha saw a sign:
Maybury’s Vineyard
“Your vineyard?”
“So it would seem. I told you I’d bring you here next time you were in L.A. I am a man of my word.” He chuckled, confusing Tasha until he continued. “So, you, me and Vegas will happen.”
She shook her head and as the next track started on the stereo and she attempted to stop it, but ended up turning the volume up as the words I think I wanna marry you blared out around them.
Jim laughed loudly as she eventually turned the volume down. “What’s it called? I like it.”
“It’s called Marry You by Bruno Mars,” she replied uncomfortably.
“That’s funny. Even your own music library is conspiring against you now, baby. It’s going to happen.”
The car stopped and as Jim offered Tasha his hand to get out a couple of around sixty appeared on the porch of the house.
“Jim, what a lovely surprise,” the lady of the house called as she made her way towards them.
Once beside them and with Tasha standing next to Jim, the man joined them, too. “Hello, son. You should have called.”
“I wanted to surprise you, Dad,” he said before kissing the lady. “Mom, this is...”
“Tasha,” said his dad. “Lizzie has told us all about you and it was all good. Especially the bit where you call him James,” he explained laughing.
As they sat in the farmhouse style kitchen drinking coffee, Tasha discovered Maisie and Jack Maybury lived there and the vineyard had been run by Jack since Jim had bought it after his dad retired, specifically because it was something Jack had wanted to do. They were very sweet and treated Tasha kindly, while it was obvious they both adored Jim.
“So,” said Maisie. “Lizzie says you’re an actress and a model.”
“She called you that recently?” asked Jim with a very wry smile.
“You know Lizzie.” Jack smiled at thoughts of his granddaughter.
“I’m not really a model. I do sometimes model, but I’m an actress back in Britain.” Her explanation was nervous. She really was concerned that the Mayburys might assume she was out to use their son, like Sandra had, maybe still did.
“But she won’t let me make her a star, Mom, what can you do?” Jim, sensed her fears again.
“Jim could help you a great deal,” said Maisie with no judgement or apparent inference.
Tasha nodded. “But I don’t want him to. I like to succeed or fail on my own merits.”
“Very commendable. I like scruples and integrity.” Jack sounded just like Jim.
She smiled and asked, “So what did you do before you retired?”
“I was a history teacher in high school and Maisie was a social worker.”
Tasha smiled at the irony of Lizzie’s feelings towards history in spite of her grandfather’s career.
“You should ask Lizzie if she’d like some extra tuition. She seems to have discovered a love of history.”
Jim’s words made Tasha shake her head at the sheer horror they’d evoke in Lizzie.
“Really?” Jack’s voice was filled with total surprise.
Jim nodded. “She and Tasha had a talk about history and suddenly she loves it.”
“I will call her back later,” smiled Jack as Tasha and Jim exchanged a smile that Lizzie’s love of history may be short lived.
“You are a cruel man,” Tasha whispered to Jim.
“I thought you liked my cruel streak?” he asked with a grin at the idea of his father’s call to Lizzie and for his cruel streak Tasha really did love.
“Will you stay for lunch?” asked Maisie.
“We’d love to.” Jim gave his mother a huge smile. “I was going to give Tasha a guided tour first, though.”
“Well, if you need anything just yell. I’ll be in the office with the accounts.” Jack was already on his feet and preparing to leave the room.
“Dad, I’ve told you, let the accountant do the accounts or give them to me to look at as I’m an accountant.” Jim spoke
to his father with gentleness but also sincerity making Tasha smile at his interaction here as the child.
“Maybe you could have a look. But they look healthy enough to me.”
“I’ll take them home with me later. Tasha is out with Philip and Juan and as I’m not invited I have time on my hands. Now let’s get this tour started, Natasha.” With his hand in hers they stood up.
“Lead the way, James.”
Maisie looked at her husband who began to laugh. “I think you might be in trouble with this one son. James!” Jack laughed again as he and Maisie stood together and watched their son leave the house with the young woman he was clearly smitten with.
Jim began a very detailed and concise tour of the vineyard. He talked about the varieties of grapes and what they went on to become and which of his wines she’d drunk and enjoyed. Tasha enjoyed a little tasting session and drank much of the wine before realising she was supposed to spit it out. He even talked about the scientific processes involved as they stood at the brow of a hill allowing them to see the impressive expanse of the vineyard which went straight over her head. Science had never been something she understood and as he talked about chemical reactions she yawned.
“Am I boring you, Natasha?”
“No, but I am very tired, James.” She smiled.
“Then you should dance less and sleep more.” He grinned and looked very cocky.
“But I prefer to dance with you than sleep,” she told him with an arch of her brows.
“Then you should at least sit down.”
Before she knew it, he had taken her hands and swept her legs from under her, gently lowering her to the ground. He sat down next to her and lay back on the grassy hill where she joined him, resting her head on his chest.
“You smell nice.” She inhaled deeply the combination of shower gel, after shave, washing products and Jim’s unique aroma.
“So do you,” he replied as he buried his nose into her hair.
“Your parents seem lovely.”
“I like them, but I’m biased. You were worried they’d think you’re using me?”
“Yes,” she replied in a near whisper.
“They don’t.” He stroked her hair reassuringly. “My mom would have told you bluntly if she had and my dad is yet another victim of your beauty. He was like putty in your hands, honey.”
“And what about you?” She rubbed her hand along his thigh, allowing her touch to climb higher.
“Oh, baby, I am never like putty in your hands.” He grabbed for her hand and moved it to his groin where there was nothing resembling putty.
She moaned as she began to flex her fingers around the hard length she found there before he took her hand in his.
“But we are going to talk, Tasha, so...”
Her text alert sounded, interrupting him.
“Check your phone first.”
“It can wait.” She attempted to dismiss it, just wanting to get through whatever they had to discuss.
“No. Check it first. I want no distractions.”
She took her phone from her bag and saw the message was off Gerry. “It can wait, it’s only Gerry. Probably replying to the pictures I sent him.”
“Read it now,” he almost barked at her impatiently and then softened his words with a single, “please.”
She opened the message and read it then attempted to throw it back in her bag.
“Is he okay?”
She assumed he meant, what does he want and what did he say? And if you don’t tell me you’re hiding something.
“Fine, he’s just seen my message about the painting.”
“And?” he asked, unconvincing in his attempts to sound nonchalant.
She took a deep breath before responding. “Do you want to read it, Jim?”
“No, I trust you to tell me what it says, if I need to know.” He spoke with apparent calmness, but she knew he wanted to know. He’d already told her, he wanted to know everything.
She got her phone and opened the message, rolling onto her front to face him. “He likes how it looks hung and he would like Lenny’s number and I was correct about its name.”
“You’re lying, Tasha.” A darker tension was developing between them. “Maybe a lie of omission, but still a lie as far as I am concerned.”
“Fine. I will read you the message. Mine to him first.” She felt irritated, but why? Was it because Jim wanted to know so much or because he was spot on in his summing up? She took a deep breath and read back the message she’d sent him the previous evening, word for word.
“Now the reply.” Jim wore an almost black expression on his face.
“Wow, Tash. It looks great. No you look great, Princess. Get you with American friends. Yes, she became ‘Escape’ after you vetoed my first choice of ‘Natasha’ and was very expensive. Send me the number or call me when you get back and give it to me. We could do dinner. I’m sad I screwed up with you, but will try to make things right for my child’s sake. I don’t know if I will be a brilliant dad, but will try for you and her. I would like us to be friends still and I miss you, too. Sorry I wasn’t able to save you sooner. Love you, Tash. Gerry kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.”
“The painting is of you, as I thought. At least I know why I found her so beguiling and strangely familiar.” Jim had gone past irritated and dark and was currently fixed on angry.
She said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. If she was expected to say anything.
As he continued, she realised no comment was the best comment. “I don’t want you to be his friend, and yet I know you do and will. It drives me crazy to think he has seen you like that. That anyone has. I hate when he calls you princess and that he saved you, he rescued you. At least the fucking painting isn’t called ‘Natasha’ because that really would have tipped me over the edge, although I’m pretty close knowing my girlfriend’s naked form is adorning the wall of my ex-wife’s home.”
She stared at him, still unsure whether to speak or laugh and decided saying nothing might still be the best option.
“Say something at least.”
Clearly, nothing wasn’t an option now, meaning she needed to come up with something, so she went with honesty.
“He is my friend and I do love him, as my friend, but no more, Jim. I have known him all of my life and we have a history like you do with Sara and all of the others, but I have no interest in anyone I have known before, not for sex. I know with one word I could be back with Gerry, so why am I here if it’s him I want?” She waited for several long seconds and when he didn’t respond, she continued. “I’ve told you, nobody makes me feel like you do, never have.” She dared to smile. “I didn’t lie about anything, but I knew how you’d feel about it all.”
“I just don’t want to lose you, Tasha. I really, really, really like you, which is why I want to know everything about you, honey.” He pulled her back towards him.
“Okay. Where to start?” she asked herself more than him. “You know about my dad getting my mum pregnant at fifteen and being thrown out because she wouldn’t have an abortion. Well, my dad’s parents took her in for a while, but when I was born they said we had to leave and my dad was working so they got a council house and then a mortgage to buy it, next door to the Solomon family who had a little boy the same age as me, Gerry. Then Dan and Pippa came along, but they were struggling by then, financially, emotionally, and maritally. He was a delivery driver and found lots of bored housewives and she was working in a bar so had no shortage of admirers and that’s how it was. I looked after the two little ones when they went out together and separately. Dad began drinking too much and gambling and was generally unpleasant and Mum was just apathetic and resigned to everything. Anyway, one night they had been out together and were arguing when they returned; she’d been flirting with some guy in the pub and he’d lost the housekeeping money on some horse or something and they started arguing and shouting as soon as they got back and woke me up. I went downstairs to stop them before th
ey woke the little ones up and somehow got caught up in it and got hit.”
She felt his grip tighten as he continued to stroke her hair with his free hand. Although, she was unsure just who he was attempting to comfort.
“I went to school the next day with a black eye and my teacher reported it to social services who got involved and they contacted my grandparents. That’s how they came to be involved with us kids and decided to ensure we could better ourselves with a good education. We would visit them some weekends and they paid for hobbies and clubs and stuff, but they refused to have anything to do with my parents. I was about thirteen when Gerry asked me to be his girlfriend, we were both young and innocent. We kissed and held hands, no more really, but my dad, ironically, had always said I was a slut and was screwing every boy in town and would come back knocked up and that just made me more determined not to. Gerry and I continued to see each other, but maintained the façade of just being friends and neighbours. When I was almost fifteen my dad got into big trouble with money and owed about seven grand and the guy he owed, Liam, came to collect. Unfortunately, Dad was out. Mum told him to search the house if he didn’t believe her and he did, including bursting into the bathroom where I was taking a bath.”
“Christ, Tasha.” Jim sounded as scared as Tasha remembered being at the time, although she feared he might be overthinking what had happened.
“He didn’t touch me. I leapt out of the bath, startled, but he just looked, and then he went. My dad came back later and told me I needed to help him. That he’d found me a boyfriend who would sort out all of our problems, more precisely his debt. He set up a date for the next night with Liam and I knew exactly what was required and it wasn’t up for debate, unless I wanted to be personally responsible for my siblings losing their home and us all going into care and being split up.”
“A date.” Jim spat the words out, barely masking his utter outrage but in complete contrast to that he pulled her chin up and kissed her gently on the nose. “He made you think if all the shit happened it would be your fault?” Jim’s tone was almost disbelieving now.
“Yes, and I believed if I could make things okay it would be worth going on a date with his friend, but then he crudely made it obvious what would be expected of me and I was scared, really scared.”
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