by Orla Bailey
He needed me? “But you got engaged to Amanda.” It doesn’t make sense. Is he lying to me? Lying to himself? “When, exactly, did you give up on us?”
“Never.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to hurt you, Tabby, with details that have no importance now.”
“I need to know. I deserve to know. It seems you know everything there is to know about me.” Exactly how much is only just beginning to dawn.
He nods. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“If what you’re telling me is true, I must have hurt you,” I presume. “I even managed to find a man who was happy to take my virginity.” Was that when he turned to Amanda? Was it my fault?
His eyes darken.
My words are a low blow and I see them connect. Hard. “You thought I would wait for you?”
I can see, by the ticking of the muscles in his jaw that he probably did. Hoped.
I try to soften his pain but fail miserably. “We both had lovers.” Me? Not that many. Who could possibly have equalled my fantasies of Jack? And not a single one of them long enough to begin to cast their superior from my mind or my soul. I see him clench his fists. God, did he know about them anyway? It wasn’t my fault. “If you cared about me, how could you have let someone else have me? Was Amanda payback?”
“Payback? No. Whatever you think about the reasons I watched out for you, it wasn’t my place to stop you living whatever life you wanted. Making your own choices. But I’m only a man, Tabitha. I sought solace too. Women. Casual affairs. Perhaps too many. I needed some sort of distraction. But it was sex. Totally physical.” Is he trying to justify it to me or to himself?
“And Amanda?” It’s not like the thought of all the others doesn’t gnaw at me but she is the one I most need to understand. She can’t have been entirely physical. You don’t ask a woman to marry you unless your emotions are engaged too. Jack asked her and he still keeps her around. There must be something deeper, more enduring, between them. Just the same as there is between us. The thought makes me grow so cold, I shiver.
“I’m not discussing this here,” he says.
His desire to guard their precious relationship angers me. “Still keeping your dirty little secrets? Playing mind games with me? Keeping control.”
“When that… episode in the hotel transpired, any control I thought I had – needed – was ripped away from me. I didn’t like what that did to me. It was the past come to haunt me all over. Like you’d gone again. You want me to believe what you say happened? Well I’m operating on blind faith here and that’s not easy for me to do. Take my word for it. Nothing about what I’m dealing with inside, after finding you in that hotel room, is easy. First I need to get my own feelings back under control. How I choose to do that is not open to discussion.”
“Jack –”
“I didn’t think there was any way I could get past all this.” He halts, breathing in and out as if wrestling some deep emotional demon.
I stay silent. I understand he’s baring his soul here.
Jack stares at me. “Then you came into my office and I was torn in two. Part of me wanted to take you in my arms and hold you forever but part of me wanted to turn from this heartache and never set eyes on you again, both at the same time. Punish you for making me relive the past. Punish me for thinking I could change a damn thing. There’s this epic battle raging inside me and it isn’t over.
“When you offered me an amendment to our deal I grabbed it. I recognise a chance when I see it. Maybe the only chance for us to move beyond this. But Amanda stays and you’re going to have to trust me, the way I’m having to trust you. It’s non-negotiable.”
I try to speak but he holds up his hand. “Not another word.”
“Fine.” Actually I’m too stunned to frame my muddled thoughts coherently. Half-formed judgements tumble round my brain like pebbles in a cement mixer, clattering and drowning out my ability to reason. I realise just how close we’ve come to losing each other for ever.
He glares at me through narrowed eyes. “That was another word, Tabitha.”
“It doesn’t count if I’m agreeing with you,” I add hastily. He’s still internally negotiating his way to forgive and exonerate me. And it seems I have plenty I have to absolve him of too. But this moment is far too important. I can’t screw it up with injured pride.
I face the front, my mind occupied with everything I’ve heard, as he sends the call through to Blackstock to return.
Neither Jack nor I speak again beyond a reminder the car will return for me at six. I suppose we both need time and space to come to terms with the past. The present. To decide if we can ever heal.
Chapter Nine
Inside CaidCo, Libby is standing in the hallway looking like she’s about to explode. She’s arguing with a couple of guys in boiler suits.
“What’s going on?”
“Tabitha. Thank heavens you’re here. I’ve been trying to contact you all morning.”
“Sorry. Busy.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Besides Jack still had her phone.
“These gentlemen claim to be completing an order to fit new security at CaidCo today. They were already in the building when I got here this morning. Did you order it?”
“Definitely not. I would have discussed it with you.” There must be a mix up.
“Well someone gave them admittance. I knew it was a mistake.” Her frown deepens. “But how did they gain entry?”
I run my eyes round the space seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
“Well?” I ask the older of the two.
“State of the art technology.” He explains the hidden cameras. “Completely concealed. You won’t even know they’re there.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Brent?” Libby queries, her eyes widening in horror at the thought he could still be causing trouble.
“Not Brent.”
State of the art surveillance? Discrete security. The answer is obvious. Jack Keogh. This isn’t about my protection. It’s about his need to know. To control. But he’s gone too far this time. I march into my office and slam the door behind me. No wonder Jack didn’t worry about any lover phoning me here. And he must have deleted Libby’s texts and calls this morning before handing over the replacement cell phone. I hustle it – Jack’s so called gift – from my bag and fire off an irate text of my own.
Remove your shit!
I hurl the phone at the door so hard it shatters. No doubt he’s already witnessed it in real time on some remote monitor. I sink into my chair in utter disbelief that he never said a word. Apparently he’s not done playing guardian angel. Since my assault, his idea of protecting me is to become increasingly absolute and intolerant.
Libby pops her head round the door, glancing at all the little pieces of shattered plastic beneath her feet. “They’ve gone.” She holds up her own cell phone. “And I have a text message from Jack Keogh, meant for you. Do you want to read it?”
How the hell did he get Libby’s personal number? I laugh. Stupid question. The contacts on my old phone. No doubt he’s logged the lot. And he knows I’m not likely to smash Libby’s property against any door.
Reluctantly, I hold my hand out. “Thanks.”
If Amanda or anyone else is a threat to you I need to know about it.
I have to laugh at that one, considering. “Can I make free with your phone?”
“Be my guest.” Her shoe crunches on the broken technology as she turns to leave.
If that’s your clumsy way of saying you believe me, spy on her! Leave me alone.
Deal breaker. Trust me.
Screw you.
As soon as we get home. We’ll talk after.
He’s insufferable. I return Libby her cell phone. “If Jack texts again, delete it. I don’t want to know.” One way or another he’ll get the message that his control doesn’t extend into every corner of my life.
And who am I trying to kid?
I catch up on my late start, consigni
ng the security intrusion for when I get a moment to decide what to do about it. A client conference has been scheduled but I’m so self-conscious about being observed by Jack I think about shifting all the rest of my week’s meetings to a small local hotel.
His idea of security makes me feel more vulnerable, not less, and I’m not going to stand for it. I never agreed to follow such autocratic rules in my workplace yet suddenly the parameters are shifting.
Where is the trust if he does something like this? I can’t believe he went ahead and arranged surveillance in my business without asking me. I’m so angry, I decide to leave early, avoid the Bentley and take a bus home instead just to show him. Let him see how useless his security is then. If Jack wants to scheme, I can too. It’s annoying. Every time I think I’m making headway, something spoils things. Perhaps our destiny is to remain locked in an eternal knot of misery and mistrust.
There is some good news though. I get confirmation by four o’clock that we’ve broken the curse and landed out first new account since implementing our new business model. It’s a small Kent farmers’ co-operative start-up, producing fresh, organic juices in exciting fruit and vegetable combinations and exactly the type of young, dynamic business I want the new division of my company – CaidCo Innovative – to become synonymous with helping to grow.
I gather the team who will be working on the account into the boardroom for a briefing and confirm a team leader from one of my younger members of staff. We taste the juices, socialise and brainstorm, bringing in a target-market focus group to hash out next steps for a presentation to our client.
I pull Libby aside for a quiet conversation. “Put the new interns straight into the team when they start tomorrow. Let’s take advantage of their talents while they’re learning the ropes.”
“Sure thing. By the way, a courier delivered this for you.”
I open the package to find an identical replacement to the phone I smashed, complete with all contacts uploaded.
“Jack’s throwing his weight around.”
His text comes through immediately.
Smash this and I’ll send a 3rd. And a 100th. Congrats on new account btw.
I roll my eyes then notice the time. It’s nearly five thirty. I place the phone super-carefully into my bag, performing for his hidden cameras. I can almost hear Jack’s laughter. Well let’s see if he’s still laughing a few minutes from now.
I make my announcement to the empty office. “I’m leaving early. Tell Jack I claim a little independence.” I hope he’s listening – did they mention hidden microphones? – and getting totally ticked off. He’s completely crossed the line on this one. What he’s done makes any agreement to follow his rules, null and void.
I drag Libby to the Ladies bathroom and into a cubicle to get away from being spied on. Even Jack wouldn’t go that far.
“Are you sure? Isn’t the Bentley coming to meet you?” The look on Libby’s face suggests she thinks I might be insane to deliberately provoke him but I have to take a stand sometime. I’m a boss too and I’ll have Jack on equal terms or not at all.
“Positive.” He can’t dictate my whole life, no matter what we’re trying to work through personally. “If I don’t put my foot down, there’s no knowing where this will end. Next he’ll be assigning me a bodyguard. Or keeping me chained to the railings. It’s about time he realises I’m not eighteen anymore. Nor a complete idiot.” Getting played by Amanda, the one exception. And I am capable of learning from my mistakes.
“He’s so used to being in charge he probably finds it impossible to let go.”
“That’s fine in his own workplace, Libby, but in our personal relationship, it’s like diving, head first, off a cliff top onto the rocks below.”
“Listen to you, all wised up and everything. You’re not giving up on him then?”
“I want Jack. I’ve always wanted him, but I’m beginning to realise some things have a high price. Jack’s changed.” I hear his own words and start to understand them. “He needs to realise I’ve changed too.”
She gives me a rueful smile. “Yeah, he has to accept things are different if he doesn’t want to lose you.”
“It’s not his fault. Our relationship never took a natural course for either of us. Being forced apart altered the way we think about ourselves and each other; I’m only just beginning to understand that. We have to find a new way to coexist.” A new destiny. “If we’re able to.”
“And you’re going to start by pushing his buttons?” She grins, clearly delighted with the idea of a few fireworks in a relationship.
I wonder if Blackstock knows he’s in for one hell of a bumpy ride. “I’ve been doing that already, without even realising it.”
“My dad always says you have to steer off-course if you want to find a better route home. Mind you, it’s usually when he’s just got us hopelessly lost and is talking his way out of it,” she admits.
I smile at her fond family memory. “There’s sense in that.” It must have been nice to have had parents growing up. Would my own mother have understood the way I feel about Jack? He will always be the Pole Star that guides me, but I need to travel other waters if I want to find my way back to him. Perhaps Harry was right after all. “Sorry about leaving you to face his wrath alone.”
“John will protect me from things that go bump in the night.” She offers me a meaningful look.
I laugh. “Things going well between you two then?”
“Early days, but I’d say things are going great. He says he’s got the entire weekend off and wants to spend it away with me.” Her face glows. The expression of a woman in the first flush of a new romance.
“He said he wants to have it away with you?” I tease, adopting an appearance of mock shock.
She smirks. “I hope so. I bought new underwear and everything.”
We laugh.
Their plans set me thinking. Blackstock is usually on call weekends. I remember the wager Jack and I had only this morning. Has Jack planned something already? I guess a successful CEO doesn’t let the grass grow. Will my act of defiance jeopardised things? I suppose I’ll find out soon enough but I’m not backing down.
I decide to leave before it’s too late. “See you tomorrow, Libby. We’ll go hunting for hidden cameras.”
“I’ll bring spray paint to cover the lenses.”
I drag poor Libby back into the hall and perform for the cameras. “Being watched is creepy. If Jack doesn’t have the damn things removed, I will. He’s probably spying on us right now. Urgh.” I give a mock shiver. “They’re useless anyway. I’m leaving and he’ll never get here in time to stop me. Still he can enjoy watching the re-runs.” I take a bow.
Libby’s jaw drops. I picture Jack seething but I’m so mad at him for doing this without discussing it first, I could spit.
I exit the building knowing I’m cutting it fine but all the better. Somehow I think Jack just missing me will annoy him even more and drive my point home. Halfway across the car park, something large looms out of the shadow of the surrounding wall. It makes me jump before I recognise him.
“What a fright, Phil!” My hand tries to contain my leaping heart. “You must stop doing that.” I laugh weakly. For a moment I thought it might have been Jack.
“My apologies, ma’am.” He stands a little to one side searching around us as if expecting an attack to come at any moment. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just looking out for trouble.”
“I’m fine.” My galloping heart starts to slow immediately at the familiar, unshaven face. Phil might look a little wild and dangerous but I saw beneath that war-torn surface long ago. He may have fallen on hard times and be living rough on the streets but this ex-soldier would no more hurt me than fly. I reach into my purse, take out a ready fold of bank notes and tuck them into his pocket without acknowledgement on either side, as is our way.
“How have things been going, Phil?” I wonder if he’s with us in the real world today or if his mind has taken h
im back on one of those awful active-service experiences which fractured him so badly.
“Walking point.”
I have my answer.
“Quiet enough today though, isn’t it?” He doesn’t seem too agitated. I’ve known him worse. “No trouble.”
“That’s when you got to be extra careful, ma’am.” He searches up and down the empty street and seems to be holding an imaginary rifle.
“I will be.” I wonder how he manages to cope when the streets are heaving with people.
He takes hold of my elbow. “Come this way, ma’am.”
“I’m going home, Phil.” I keep calm. It’s not like he frightens me exactly, he’s always been respectful and gentle. It’s more a case of me not wishing to frighten him. There’s no knowing how deep his darkness runs and what might trigger him to react.
“I’ll get you there safely, ma’am. You stick with me.”
“Shall we go inside first? Perhaps we should eat before we walk?” Usually the thought of a cup of hot coffee and a bite to eat is enough to distract him. He can’t get the chance to eat regularly with life on the streets, surely?
One thing that reassures me about Phil is he doesn’t drink. I offered him wine once and he refused it in order to keep a clear head for his duty and I’ve never smelled drink on him either. I’m amazed he manages to keep as clean and neat as he does. Army habits instilled early and maintained for a long time, I presume.
I’ve gleaned bits of his history over the years since he first turned up in this neighbourhood. In more lucid moments he’s quite forthcoming. He needs a friendly face to talk to every now and then but he’s fiercely proud; stands on his own two feet. He must have been quite a formidable soldier once. He positions himself in front of me, tall and imposing. The nature of his life-style makes him seem harder, tougher somehow, though I’ve never seen any real meanness in him. Yet I can’t imagine anyone going out of their way to mess with a guy that looks quite like he does either.
“No time, ma’am. Seen strangers round your building this morning. Laying explosives. I watched ’em with wires and detonators. Figured you needed a safe escort.”