by Jenny Frame
The dress dropped and Claudia kicked it away. She turned to face Trent, took her hands and placed them on her hips. “Not bad for a woman in her fifties, eh?”
Even though Trent knew not much was real on Claudia’s body, she still wanted to lose herself in it. Trent pulled Claudia to her and said, “You look great.”
She then kissed her and ran her hands up and down Claudia’s body before unclipping her bra and letting it drop to the floor. The kiss had no passion, no feeling, and tasted of stale cigarettes, so Trent pulled away, but she wanted this, needed this to make her feel better. She cupped Claudia’s breasts and squeezed.
Claudia led her back to the bed and pulled her on top of her. Trent cringed inside. This was a bad idea, but when she closed her eyes, she saw herself walking Becca down the aisle at her wedding. Trent hated dealing with feelings, and she wanted to cover over those feelings, even just for a short time.
She opened her eyes and saw Claudia grinning like the cat who got the cream. “Come on, darling, make me come.”
Trent’s heart started to race. This would make her feel better. She pushed two fingers inside.
Claudia gasped. “More, darling.”
She added a third and then positioned herself on Claudia’s thigh. Trent didn’t draw it out. She thrust until Claudia tightened around her fingers and her own orgasm came with a whimper.
The rush of the muted orgasm was gone in a second, and she looked down at Claudia still groaning and coming down from her orgasm. And in that moment she had never felt so empty and alone.
Chapter Two
Trent attempted to get dressed straight away, but Claudia pulled her back into the bed. She rested her head on Trent’s shoulder and stroked her fingernails across Trent’s stomach. “I’ve always had a thing for alpha females, powerful women, but men I find are much easier to manipulate, and it gets boring. But as soon as I saw you, Trent, I knew I wanted you. There was someone once who I couldn’t dominate, who made me feel like I was not in control, and you reminded me of them.”
Trent said nothing, but her mind was full of thoughts. She lay staring at the ceiling, feeling stressed and uncomfortable. Sleeping with Claudia was not the answer to the echoing sadness inside her. Claudia had pursued her and got her exactly where she wanted.
Trent wasn’t used to that and didn’t like it. She needed to get out of here without offending a very lucrative client. I should never have broken my golden rule.
“You feel tense, darling,” Claudia said and started to pepper kisses on her jaw and cheek. “Let me make you feel better.”
Claudia began to reach her hand under the covers, but Trent sat up quickly. “I’m sorry, Claudia, I—”
“What is it?” Claudia said.
Before she had time to come up with a plausible excuse, Trent’s phone rang on the bedside table. Saved by the bell.
“Excuse me,” Trent said.
Claudia sighed audibly as Trent sat up and got her phone. Trent was surprised by the caller ID. It was her own lawyer—that was strange.
She answered it quickly. “Jasper? Is everything all right?”
Trent could feel Claudia’s fingers stroking her back and so edged forward away from her touch.
“Sorry to phone you so late, Trent, but I have some bad news. Your cousin David was killed in a car accident this evening.”
Trent stood up quickly. “Jesus, David…what happened?”
David and she had played together often when they were children and saw each other at family events, but she hadn’t seen or heard from him since she was godmother to his first child. He had been the black sheep of the family, leaving university and joining a band instead of entering a good solid profession.
Jasper cleared his throat nervously. “Apparently he had gone to pick up his kids from a babysitter after a show. He was in a band, I believe?”
“Yes, that’s right. He has a second child? He never told me,” Trent said.
She saw Claudia get up and put on a silky dressing gown then light a cigarette.
“That’s right, a six-year-old boy, the girl is eleven. They were involved in a head-on collision. David was killed instantly, but the children are okay, apart from bumps and grazes.”
Trent started to pace up and down. “What about his wife?”
“She died three years ago, apparently. The police just contacted me. The hospital couldn’t get a hold of any family, but apparently his solicitor knew about you and got in touch. The mother was estranged from her family since she was a teenager, and as far as David’s legal papers go, you are the next of kin.”
Trent ran her hand through her hair. “What do you need me to do?”
“Identify the body at the St. Giles Hospital. The children are being looked after there by a social worker, if you could speak to her too.”
“Of course. I’ll go straight there,” Trent said.
“Thanks, Trent. I’ll be back in touch about his papers, et cetera,” Jasper said.
Trent ended the call and let out a breath.
“Bad news?” Claudia asked.
Trent started to pull her clothes on quickly. “My cousin David was killed in a car accident yesterday. I’m his nearest relative, so I have to go and identify the body.”
Claudia walked over and slipped her arms around the back of Trent’s waist. “I’m sorry to hear that. Can we meet tomorrow night again? I have more celebrating to do.”
Trent just wanted to get out of there. Now dressed in her shirt and trousers, she pulled away from Claudia and picked up her tie and wallet.
Claudia wasn’t exactly full of sympathy. Maybe her ex-husband and children were right about her. She was cold and heartless.
“I doubt it, I’ll have a funeral to arrange by the looks of it. I’ll call you.” Trent had no intention of calling. “Goodbye, Lady Claudia,” Trent said.
“For now, Trent,” Claudia said as she walked out the door.
* * *
Trent hurried into the A&E department of St. Giles Hospital and found it still full of people, even in the early hours of the morning. She waited in line at the desk, looking at her watch and tapping her foot anxiously.
Finally, she got to the head of the queue and a harassed looking receptionist said, “Yes?”
“I got a call to come and identify the body of my cousin, David Trent. I think he was brought in yesterday.”
“Name?” the receptionist said.
“Trent, Davina Trent,” she said in a quieter voice. Trent had always hated her first name.
The receptionist tapped the keyboard in front of her. As she waited, the noise of the casualty department increased. A young mother tried to calm her crying child, who was obviously in a lot of pain.
The sound triggered a memory in her of having a virus as a child, and even though her mother was very sick by that time, she took Trent in her arms and rocked her all through the night. The next time Trent was ill, her mother was dead, and her father and nanny let her cry all night, never once trying to comfort her. Nanny didn’t believe in mollycoddling, and her father was disinterested.
“Ms. Trent?”
Trent realized she had gotten lost in her thoughts. She shook herself and said, “Sorry?”
“If you take a seat, I’ll have someone take you over to the mortuary.”
Trent didn’t want to take a seat. Her mind was whirling with all sorts of thoughts. She would have to organize the funeral, and there was no other family but her it seemed, so she’d have to find out who his friends were and get the word out, or there would be no one at his funeral except her and his children.
The children, Trent thought, and her stomach twisted into a nervous knot as she remembered attending her own mother’s funeral. It would probably be best if they didn’t come. She didn’t think she would ever forgive her father for forcing her to attend her mother’s burial.
Then there was the guardianship of the children, but she supposed David’s solicitor and social services would sort tha
t out. She was sure David made provisions for them in his will.
A hospital orderly approached and said, “Ms. Trent, I’ll escort you to the mortuary.”
She followed him out of the A&E and walked over to a foreboding dull grey building on the other side of the car park. This building could only be the mortuary.
Trent’s heart started to pound in her chest. She hated everything to do with death. Despite her confident personality, death and funerals made fear strike her heart. It had been her father’s idea that she should see the body of her mother as it lay waiting for the undertakers, claiming to her nanny it would build strength of character. Nothing would ever take the image of her mother’s lifeless body from her brain. She had shaken and shaken her mother’s body, thinking that she would wake up, until she was dragged away in hysterics.
They reached the door and Trent shivered. Stay in control, stay in control.
She was guided to the second floor where a woman with a caring face was waiting for her by a set of double doors.
“Davina Trent?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Trent said.
“My name’s Jane. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Is he in there?” Trent asked.
Jane’s sympathetic look became more serious. “I just want to warn you that Mr. Trent’s car crash was very violent, and it will be distressing to view his body. If you feel you can’t do it, we can contact his doctor—”
“No,” Trent said quickly, “I haven’t seen my cousin for a long time, and I think it’s my duty to do this for him.”
“Okay, then we’ll go in, and I’ll get you to fill in the paperwork. If you’ll follow me.”
Trent’s heartbeat got even faster. She took some deep breaths and followed Jane.
* * *
Trent leaned over a toilet in the ladies’ and tried to calm her stomach. After seeing the condition of her cousin’s body, she’d walked back over to A&E in shock, then felt her stomach starting to churn. To see her childhood playmate in such a state was horrifying. She quickly ran for the ladies’ toilets and got the usual looks, stares, and whispers from the women already in there. Her masculine appearance always made people look at her with accusation in their eyes, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. She burst into the toilet and vomited a few times.
When her stomach started to settle, she took some toilet tissue and cleaned herself up, and swallowed the bitter, acidic taste in her mouth. She leaned her head against the cubicle wall and closed her eyes. This was not like her, reacting so emotionally to difficult times that came up through life.
Trent was always the strong one. She had learned from an early age to keep emotions well under lock and key, or she would receive punishment. That attitude gained her a tough reputation in university and made her a tough negotiator in the law. When Becca Harper had her whole life ripped away from her, she was the white knight coming to rescue her. Trent had handled everything, coolly and calmly, but this was different somehow.
After a few deep breaths she walked out to the sink area, washed her hands, and splashed some water on her face. She wandered out in the waiting area and sat down. Trent just needed to gather her thoughts before she enquired about the children and went home.
“Ms. Trent?”
Trent looked up to find a woman holding a folder. “Yes.” Trent stood up.
“I’m Marjorie Swale, the social worker called out to handle Mr. Trent’s children’s case.”
“Oh yes, pleased to meet you. How are the children?” Trent felt bad that she couldn’t even remember their names.
“Physically it’s just bumps and bruises. It’s an absolute miracle they survived—so the police say.”
Trent nodded. “Yes, I saw Mr. Trent’s body. It is extremely lucky they survived.”
“Yes, the girl, Alice, is in deep shock, not talking, and hiding away inside herself. She had a view of the front seat of the car, whereas the younger boy didn’t.”
After seeing David’s body for herself, she couldn’t imagine a child seeing that. “My lawyer said she was about eleven—is that right? I haven’t seen David in years.”
“Yes, eleven, and the boy Noah is six. He doesn’t understand as yet that his father is gone. Follow me and I’ll take you to them.”
Trent didn’t want this, to get any further involved, but Marjorie set off at a fast walk, so she had no other choice but to follow. They came to a curtained-off area and Marjorie pulled the drape back to reveal a little dark-haired girl with cuts and bruises, on a hospital gurney, hugging her legs. On the floor was a little boy playing with a toy dinosaur with one of the nurses.
“Alice? Noah? This is your cousin Trent,” Marjorie said.
The little girl looked up with haunted eyes. Trent’s mouth dried up, and she could hear the thudding of her heart in her ears. She had seen that haunted look before, in the mirror every day when she was a little girl. Trent panicked. She didn’t want to acknowledge those feelings or let them even an inch out of the place she kept them locked away.
I need to get out of here.
Alice put her head down, but the boy, Noah, walked over to her.
“You look like my daddy,” Noah said.
That was it. She couldn’t handle this, and she turned around and walked away quickly, panic filling her body. When she reached the waiting room she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Ms. Trent? Is everything all right?” Marjorie said.
Trent stopped and took a few breaths, rebuilding the cracks in her walls.
“Ms. Trent, I know it’s been a shock, but those children need you.”
“Need me? Why?” Trent asked.
“You’re their next of kin. The mother had been estranged from her family long before she and David met. I mean, we’ll make enquiries, but we hoped they could go home with you.”
“Me?” Trent squeaked.
“It’s you or they’ll be taken into care, and we try to avoid that whenever we possibly can,” Marjorie said.
“Oh no,” Trent said with firm determination, “that is not happening. I will of course support them financially until their father’s will is sorted out, but it is not possible for them to live with me. I run a busy solicitors’ office and I live in a dockside penthouse, not suitable for young children.”
“You want me to take them into the care system?” Marjorie’s words had a hint of anger.
“It’s the only possibility,” Trent said coldly. “I’ll be in touch about the will and David’s funeral.”
Trent turned around and walked quickly out of the A&E doors into the cool fresh air. Alice’s troubled eyes floated across her mind.
Walk away, Trent told herself, and she did.
Chapter Three
“You’re not applying for this, are you, Dee?”
Wendy was polishing the TV screen for what felt like the fiftieth time in the last few days. She stopped and turned around. Kira was holding the application form she had picked up yesterday from the local supermarket.
“Yeah, I thought I would. I phoned the nanny agency yesterday afternoon, and there’s still no sign of a job.”
Kira came over and sat on the edge of the couch. “But you’ve got savings, haven’t you? This kind of nine-to-five will drive you mad after travelling for so long.”
Wendy sighed and came to sit on the couch. “Yes, I’ve got savings, but I’m so bored when you’re out at work. There’s only so many times I can clean the flat, and it’s months until I can start my uni course.”
Kira looked around the room. “Yeah, my place has never been so clean in all its life, but have some patience—I’m sure a nanny post will turn up.”
“Hmm,” Wendy replied.
Kira snapped her fingers. “I know—why don’t you start that children’s book you always talked about writing? It was always your dream.”
Wendy snorted. “That’s pie in the sky. It’s never going to happen.”
“Well, it won’t if you do
n’t try. Remember the stories you used to make up for the children at the after-school club you worked in at uni?”
Wendy was full of children’s stories. Nearly every cuddly toy she saw conjured up a story in her mind, and in fact the travel blog she had written while she globetrotted was called Travels with My Teddy.
Imagination, making up stories and songs, was the way she’d coped with family life when she was younger. Her parents were distant, unemotional people, and Wendy was the complete opposite. She craved affection, and her imaginary characters gave her comfort.
“I don’t know. I’ve never written them down before. I’d feel silly,” Wendy said.
Kira smiled. “Good, everyone should be silly every so often.”
* * *
Trent pulled into a lay-by a few hundred yards from Becca’s vicarage, in the isolated village of Plumton, and turned off the engine. She wanted to gather her thoughts before arriving at her friend’s house.
She let out a long breath and let her head fall back against the headrest. Since walking away from the children at the hospital, she’d hardly slept or eaten. She was racked with guilt, and every time she closed her eyes she saw Alice’s eyes and recognized the pain in them.
Trent’s brain tried its best to rationalize her decision. She was in no position to look after children. She had work, late nights—but most of all, there was fear. Today’s Sunday lunch at Becca’s was the last thing she needed. To be surrounded with the most loving of families would just remind her of what she was not doing for Alice and Noah, but she couldn’t make any more excuses to Becca.
She scrubbed her face and started the car up. Better to get this over with.
Trent drove along to the entrance to the vicarage and pulled into the driveway. It was like a different house since Dale had fixed it up both on the outside and inside. It had gone from a cheap run-down house to one worth a lot of money. She parked and saw Dale with Jake by her side and little Gracie, the ten-month-old, sitting on her back in a carrier. Dale and Becca had brought chickens, ducks, and goats to the land at the side of the vicarage, and they were in the chicken enclosure giving them food.