Bare All

by L M Allen

“Come with me.” Sid grabs my hand and pulls me up. “This is gonna be great. You’ll see.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I know a guy.”

  “Of course you do.”

  ***

  I’m staring at this guy, whose name I didn’t get, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. “Wait! Wait. Do it again!” I demand, and he laughs.

  “Again? Eva, you’re lucky I like you.”

  “Please? One more time.”

  I sit right on the edge of my seat, leaning forward over the table, not even caring that it’s sticky and now I am too, and keep my eyes glued to his hands on the Coke bottle. There’s no way. How? How can someone get a ring through glass without breaking it?

  But he empties Sid’s ring out into his palm again, and seals the bottle with a stopper. And two seconds later, the ring is back inside the bottle, rolling around the bottom, and I’m still none the wiser.

  “Huh. Can you teach me that?” I look up at him hopefully. He smiles and shakes his head, poking out the tip of his tongue.

  “I told ya, didn’t I, Evie?” Sid laughs, his arm moving around my shoulders and pulling me against him.

  “Yeah.” I shrug him off and sit back on my own chair. “Where did you learn it?” I ask the street magician eagerly. His eyes flick from me to Sid. I glance at Sid. “What?”

  “Are you two...?” He makes a connection between us with his finger.

  “No. So...”

  “Yes.” Sid speaks at the same time I do. “Well, I’m tryin’.”

  “Sid. Shut up.” I keep my eyes on the magician. “Can you at least tell me where I can learn it?”

  “Ask Davey, Eva. He knows where,” Sid says, in a low baritone.

  “Does he?” I gasp. I pull out my phone, ready to ask him right now.

  “You know Davey? Davey Adams?”

  “Aha. He’s my brother.” I hit Davey’s name in my contacts, and the guy’s chin hits the table.

  “What?” I mouth, listening to the phone ring out. I drum my fingers, impatiently waiting for him to pick up. “Huh. He must be busy.” I hang up and put the phone back in my bag. “Thank you. That was g...great?” I look from Sid to the other guy. “What?” I demand again, slamming my hand on the table.

  “I’ve heard about you. Blue,” he says, his eyes running over my face in a different way.

  “Funny, he’s never mentioned you.” I know what he’s heard. I can see it from the look in his eyes. Poor little Eva. I direct my attention back to Sid. “Can we go eat? I could eat a scabby donkey and go back for the rider.”

  Sid shrugs and stands. “There’s a smokehouse a few streets away.”

  “Great.”

  “I don’t think they do donkey though. Scabby or otherwise.”

  “Funny.” Sid offers me his arm, and I wrap my hand around his bicep.

  “Thanks, Tony. That was great. We’ll catch up before I go back out.”

  “Sure. Good to meet you, Blue.” I try to smile and not scowl. I hate it when anyone but Davey calls me that. I don’t know why.

  ***

  It’s been the longest week ever known to man. I have to wear the bloody tracker/transmitter thing every waking hour, just in case. Like clockwork, Will calls. He has a restraining order against him now, apparently. He can’t come anywhere near Daryl’s place of work until the court case. I just want to go curl up and die.

  So, I’m really glad when James Worth turns up the following Monday and finds me picking at a sandwich. “Oh, I think we can do better than that.” He wrinkles his nose at the contents of my plate.

  “Hi, James. Is everything okay?”

  “No, it’s not. It looks like my event planner is eating evidence.”

  “Sorry?” I glance at my sandwich, confused.

  “That. Is a crime against taste buds.” He picks it up and marches it over to a bin. I can’t believe he just did that! That was my bloody lunch! “Now, after seeing what you eat when left to your own devices, I insist you accompany me to lunch. Even if just for educational purposes.”

  “Well, since you just chucked my lunch in the bin, I don’t have much choice, do I?” He gives me a smile. I stand and follow him out the door, hoping the person on the other end of the bloody tracker thing is awake and on it.

  “In the interest of a fully rounded education, in the culinary delights of London, are you happy to allow me to suggest a venue?”

  “Sure.” I shrug.

  ***

  “Where have you been?” Sid demands, when I push open my front door that evening.

  “At work,” I tell him dismissively.

  “I came to see you at lunchtime.”

  “Oh! Yeah, I went out for lunch. With a client.” Sid’s eyebrow cocks in the same way his mother’s does when she knows there’s more to it. “I’m going to get changed.”

  “Which client?” Sid asks, dashing after me and catching my elbow before I hit the stairs.

  “James. Worth. You met him.”

  “That guy,” Sid sneers. “He fancies you.”

  “Sid. You think every man who looks at me fancies me.”

  “They do,” he growls. I yank my arm away furiously.

  “What’s it to you if they do! What difference would it make to you if I screwed every bloody one of them!” I yell, and he drops his eyes.

  “None at all,” he mutters, and stomps off to the kitchen.

  I dash up the stairs with adrenaline flying through my veins. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I’m sure Sid is handling everything a lot better than I am. I was never much of an actress. That’s why I took the dance lessons.

  I shower fast and drag on my leggings and hoody before I leave the bathroom. Sid is waiting with an apology cuppa. “I’m sorry, Evie...I was hoping to see you, was all. I wanted to take you for lunch.” I give him a little smile and draw a big breath. Here it comes. “There’s always tomorrow.”

  “Um...actually...I’m going to be out all day tomorrow. We’re going to look at venues.”

  “We?” Sid spits.

  “Yes. We. The client needs to see them too. He’s very hands on.”

  “I bet he fuckin’ is.”

  “Oh, Sid, get your mind out of the gutter.” Sid stalks over to his bedroom and slams the door, taking my tea with him.

  I tilt my face to the ceiling and the camera that’s recording my every move. I hope you’re getting this, people. And I hope you swallow every bloody word. I want my life back. Sid’s door is wrenched open.

  “Do you fancy him?” he growls.

  “What?” I laugh.

  “You heard me. Do you want to sleep with him?”

  “Sid...” I close my eyes, not wanting to say the words I need to speak. But I have to end this.

  “C’mon, Evie. This guy is all over you. He wants in your pants. You going to let him?”

  “Probably. Yes,” I spit, right back at him. And then I screw my face up against the bitter taste that statement leaves in my mouth. Sid does a good job of looking hurt. “Si...great,” I huff, as his door slams again. I walk over to his door and raise my fist to knock, but turn and walk away before I do. It would be a good idea to let him cool down first. If this were a real fight.

  I jog downstairs and into the kitchen, and pick up Sid’s cuppa on the side. I’m about to take a sip when I remember how much sugar he has in his tea, and flick the kettle on again instead. I rub at the tense spot between my eyes as I wait for the water to boil, and go in search of my phone when it rings.

  Bells’s face is lighting up the screen. I can’t. She’ll see right through me. So, I let it go to voicemail but don’t listen to the message she left. When she calls back, I wait for it to ring off and then power it down. I don’t need this. I don’t need any more shit piled on top of this shit.

  I make myself a fresh cuppa and then go get comfy on the sofa. I should probably rest. I should probably get an early night. There are lots of things I should probably
do. I’m aware of the baby growing inside me, and I’m aware I need to appear unconcerned about her. My hands clench into fists as I make them stay at my sides.

  I kick my feet up and close my eyes. Just for a minute. It’s nearly over. He’s nearly free. Will can choose then, what he wants to do. All I can do is hope he chooses me. Even after this.

  When I wake in the morning, it’s in my bed with Sid lying beside me, his arm heavy across my stomach. I wonder briefly if he’s been there all night as I gently lift his arm and roll out of bed. Today, I need to convince James. Convince him that he stands a chance. That I might sleep with him if he were to make a move. The thought of him touching me makes me shiver. Eww!

  “It doesn’t have to be...much. But I need evidence of physical contact, Blue. Anything. But if you can get him into a hotel room or something...even better.”

  The image of Davey’s face as he said those words before I left Mexico will never leave me. Like he didn’t want to ask, but he had to. Because he knew I’d do it, if I... if there was no other choice. He told me there wasn’t.

  I grab some clean clothes and creep out of my bedroom, hoping Sid doesn’t wake, and make my way to the bathroom. James will be picking me up at nine.

  “Morning,” I greet Sid with caution as he strolls into the kitchen in just his boxers.

  “Morning,” he grunts.

  “I’m heading into work in about ten—”

  “I know.” He fills a pint glass with water and downs it.

  “Heavy night?”

  “I thought you were going to work.”

  “I am.” I wait for him to turn around and face me, but he doesn’t. So, I pick up my bag and head for the door. I’ll just hang around at the station. I hate fighting with Sid. Even when it’s just for show.

  He grabs my arm before I can twist the latch. I spin around. “Kiss me. Just once. Kiss me and tell me you don’t want me.”

  “Sid.” I shake my head and try to step away. He follows, backing me up against the door.

  “One time. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Why not?” he whispers back, his hands lifting to my hair, his eyes probing mine. “You worried you’ll like it, Evie? That you won’t make it to work this morning? That you’ll be in my bed tonight?” He leans in closer, talks softer. “Again?”

  “Stop it.” This isn’t part of the plan. He told anyone who’s watching we have already slept together. Even if it was a decade ago.

  “Make me,” he challenges. Holy shit. I don’t know if he’s playing or not. But when his lips get too close to mine, I know I don’t want him to kiss me, even if it is pretend. My knee comes up hard and fast, and I shove his shoulders when he grunts and doubles over, sending him stumbling enough to get the hell out of here.

  I jump into my car and take off like a bat out of hell. What the fuck was that! I’ve never been scared of Sid, but right now, I don’t want to be anywhere near him. And that’s going to be difficult since he’s living in my house. I need to not be there tonight. I need to stay somewhere else. My only option is a hotel. I can’t stay somewhere he’ll check. And I can’t see anyone I know. They’ll ask too many questions. I need to feel like I have somewhere to go tonight, and I also don’t feel like I can go to my own office, since Sid is bound to be right behind me. So I drive.

  I drive right into central London, leave my car in a multistorey car park, and head for the nearest hotel on foot. How the hell does this keep happening to you? my brain sneers, as I practically jog along the street, sticking to the thickest parts of the rush-hour crowds and ducking under the welcoming canopy of the first hotel I see.

  “Hi, I need a room, please,” I call out to the gobsmacked receptionist as I jog towards her. She’s looking at me like I just escaped from an institution. I glance around and realise I’ve picked a pretty exclusive hotel. It’s all uniforms and chandeliers. Fuck it. I smile and stand straighter as I pull out my card.

  “I’m afraid we only have a suite available, madam,” she says, sizing me up.

  “Great. Thanks.” I push the card towards her.

  “That’s one thousand pounds per night.” I nod, and glance over my shoulder, hoping I’m still alone. “How many nights will you be staying, madam?”

  “Umm...how long is it available?”

  “It’s free for the next fifteen nights.”

  “Great. Thanks.” I look around sharply at the bang of the door, but it’s just a doorman. Thank God. I glance back at the receptionist. “So... is that it? Booked?”

  “You’d like to book? For fifteen nights. For fifteen thousand pounds?”

  “Yeeess?” Isn’t that what I said? She slowly reaches for my card and taps in my details. When she slides the key over to me, I take it and follow her directions to my new home.

  Chapter 23

  As soon as I push open the door to my suite, I call James. He doesn’t answer, so I leave a voicemail, asking him to meet me at a coffee shop a few Tube stops away from here. I dump my bag on the plush bed and look around. It’s nice. Is it worth a grand a night? Hell yeah!

  This place is amazing. If I were feeling a little more enthusiastic about life, I’d be thrilled. But I’m not. I could just as well have landed in a hostel. The spa-like bathroom and dream-like bedroom with a four-poster bed are of no consequence to me.

  ***

  When I arrive at the appointed coffee shop, James is already waiting for me. His face lights up when he sees me, but his eyes quickly darken.

  “Eva...”

  “Morning.” His questioning gaze probes mine, but I look away. “Are you done? We should probably go.”

  “You wouldn’t like a drink?”

  “No. Thank you. We need to keep moving. Um...get moving.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “No. Nothing. You ready?” I ask again.

  “You can tell me to mind my own beeswax, but I can see that isn’t true.” He gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m a good listener.”

  “I’m sure you are. I’m not much of a talker.” I’m ready to leave. Right now.

  “No Sid today?” he asks lightly as he stands and tucks his chair under the table.

  “Nope. Just us.”

  James holds open the door, and sweeps his arm in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. I engage my facial muscles in what I hope is a smile and walk past him. He brushes my hand. Oh...fuck. I can’t...

  Will’s face fills my mind. The sound of him screaming my name when the police dragged him away...And I know I have to. I can, and I will do this.

  We walk a little way along the street, and James stops me, his hand on my elbow. “I’ll drive,” he says, his voice so soft the traffic whisks it away. I look at the car that click-clicks when he presses the button on his key fob. Black. Two-seater. Sporty thing. Red interior.

  Yep. I’m starting to get the picture.

  He walks around the car and holds open the passenger door, and I spend a couple of seconds talking my feet into moving.

  “Is this your first?” he asks, nodding at my expanding belly.

  “No.” Speak, Eva! Conversation! “I have two girls already.”

  “Two?” His eyebrow arches, and I nod.

  “Yep. Two.”

  He clunks my door and walks around the front of the car this time, before he takes the driver’s seat and revs the throaty engine. I think I’m supposed to be impressed. I’m really not.

  “How old are your girls?”

  “They’re four.” I don’t want to talk about me. I have to change the focus. “Do you have kids?”

  “No. Sadly, I’ve never met the right woman.” He glances at me sideways.

  “You sound like you want them though?”

  “Yes. I suppose I do, don’t I?”

  “Well, if I were you, I’d make the most of the lie-ins while you can. Babies aren’t conducive to a healthy sleep pattern.”

  “No?” He chuckles. “And yet you’re on number thre
e.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t worth it.”

  “But...you’re...single?”

  “Looks like it.” I shrug and change it back to him. It’s harder than I imagined it would be. Not giving away too much, but getting James to tell me everything about himself. I’m starting to get the hang of it. I find smiling helps.

  By the time we arrive at the first venue, an impressive country estate, I’ve learnt that James was married once but she cheated on him. I’ve learnt that he’s an only child. That he makes more money than he knows what to do with and wants someone to spend it with. And on.

  That last nugget made my skin crawl, but I smiled and assured him the right woman was out there somewhere.

  “This is...impressive,” James says, as we drive along the one-track lane that leads to the estate, sheep grazing and roaming freely on each side.

  “So far, so good.” I smile and lean forward to collect my bag from the footwell. It’s buzzing. I reach in for my phone, and Sid’s name is lighting up the display. I press my lips together and wait for it to stop. When it’s silent and still in my grasp, I note the number fifteen next to his name on my lock screen. He’s called me fifteen times?

  And there are ten messages over various platforms. I tap text messages as James applies the handbrake and releases his seat belt.

  I’m sorry! Call me. Please. x

  I shake my head. No! And turn it off before I throw it back in the bag.

  “Someone’s in the doghouse.” My eyes fly to James, leaning slightly towards me. I know he just read that.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Fifteen missed calls and it’s nothing? Wow. Remind me not to upset you.”

  “In my experience, it’s never a good idea to upset a pregnant woman. It won’t end well.”

  James chuckles. “So, what did he do to upset you?” I take a deep breath and decide no. No, I don’t want to tell him.

  “Are you ready?” I smile and reach for my door handle, leaving him to draw his own conclusions. He’s probably not too far from the truth.

  After I’ve let the manager know we’re onsite, I walk James around the estate, pointing out the features and the number of guests each room can safely hold. And then he says, “How about breakfast?”