“What’s the matter, Abs?” Taylor asks concern etched into his features.
“Bean just gave me an almighty kick. I think I am getting her worked up,” I say trying to slow my breathing down and focus on anything other than the argument we have just been having.
“Roll onto your back,” Taylor instructs and I do as he says. Pushing up my vest he begins to run his palm over my belly in long, soothing strokes. He places his head next to my stomach and starts to sing softly to Bean. I recognise the lyrics to Creed’s With Arms Wide Open as he sings about tears streaming down his face and not being ready to be the man he has to be. The fact that he chose that song gives me a glimpse into Taylor’s very real insecurities. Bean begins to slow down her acrobatics in my belly, Taylor’s voice having the effect intended and by the time the song ends I can see very real tears glistening in Taylor’s eyes.
I grab one of Taylor’s hands and pull him up so that his forehead is resting against mine. “You are going to be the most amazing father,” I say softly. “Don’t ever doubt that. Bean is going to love her daddy so much, just you wait and see.” I watch as Taylor swallows hard before nodding gently. We lay like that for ages, hands gently stroking each other interrupted only by the occasional soft kiss, until, finally, we both slip into an unexpectedly peaceful slumber.
The Twenty-Third
It is still really early; the sun hasn’t even made it above the horizon and Taylor is already freshly showered and picking out a suit in our walk-in wardrobe. I am watching him lazily, marvelling at the sight of his delicious body as I imagine taking him in my mouth. I shake my head…what the hell is the going on with me? I am horny, so very horny, and I can only partially blame my pregnancy hormones. I debate for a moment before slipping out of bed and walking across to where Taylor is standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie.
Without a word, I walk in front of him, slipping down to my knees on the plush carpet. “What are you doing, Abs?” Taylor asks curiously and I just shake my head and place a finger on my lips. My nimble fingers make quick work of Taylor’s belt and trousers and a moment later they, along with his pants, are pooled around his ankles. I reach forward and caress Taylor’s semi-hard cock. I work my mouth over the tip, my tongue flicking across the sensitive end while I wrap my hand around the base and begin pumping it up and down slowly.
“Argh,” Taylor moans loudly as his hands disappear into my hair, gripping on the wavy strands tightly. I suck on him hard, his dick growing in my mouth as I take him deeper and deeper until he is touching the back of my throat. I still for a moment to catch my breath and then Taylor begins to pump slowly into my mouth, holding my head immobile and letting me know who is ultimately in charge. I taste the salty musk of Taylor’s pre-cum on my tongue so I increase the pressure and pump my fist harder, simultaneously adjusting my grip for added stimulation while using my other hand to grasp Taylor’s arse.
“I am going to come, Abs,” Taylor hisses through his teeth so I suck hard and then nip the end of his cock with my teeth before taking him once more deep in my throat. White hot spurts of his seed hit the back of my throat and I take it all as Taylor grunts above me with his release. A couple moments later I feel Taylor’s grip loosen on my head and when I slip his still semi-erect cock from my mouth I see him looking down at me with a self-satisfied smirk. Wordlessly, I pull up his clothes and fasten his belt before standing up and sashaying back into the bedroom.
I am just reaching to pull my gown off its hook on the back of the door when I suddenly feel Taylor pressed up behind me. “And that is just one of the many reasons that I love you,” Taylor murmurs, nipping at my ear with his teeth while he slips one of his hands into my pyjama bottoms. “So wet,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers between my damp folds. He finds my clit and begins to tease it with a light swirling motion that has me leaning back against Taylor’s hard frame as I attempt to stay upright. I let out a groan as Taylor’s touch sends sparks through every nerve-ending in my body. All it takes is the slightest pinch to my sensitive bud and I come hard, the explosion sending white hot sparks through my core and leaving me breathless.
We stay like that for a few moments, Taylor supporting me until my legs stop feeling like they are made of jelly. He spins me around, planting a fierce kiss on my lips that steals my breath away once again. What this man does to me is indescribable and a surge of love runs through me. Taylor pulls away and gives me a broad smile. “Have a great day, Mrs Hudson,” he murmurs before planting a soft kiss on my cheek and rubbing a hand over my belly.
“You too, Mr Hudson. Love you.” I whisper my heart feeling like it is about to burst with the amount of love that has swamped me.
“Love you too, Abs. I’ll see you tonight,” Taylor continues before kissing me on the nose and walking out the door.
I can’t help the grin that is plastered on my face as I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower.
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What is it about Mondays that make them all about playing catch up? It is not long before I am lost in routine, ordering supplies, doing the banking, paying the staff and another million other little jobs that never seem to end. It is the last week of the holidays so Stix is downstairs helping out today in Cake. The staff have loved having her around and the extra pair of hands has been very welcome as well, so I find myself needing to consider if it will be necessary to take on another member of staff when she heads back to school. Decisions, decisions.
I finally take a breather late in the afternoon and head downstairs to grab a coffee and a catch-up with Bea and Andreas. We grab one of the back tables situated out of the way for our impromptu mini staff meeting and when we are settled, I ask their thoughts about getting another member of staff on board. I think we are all a bit nervous about getting someone new in but given that the tourist season has started the shop and café are only going to get busier. Bea suggests seeing if Alison and Emma have any friends they could recommend, at least that way wouldn’t be letting a complete stranger into our midst. It is clear that Hannah’s betrayal is still fresh in everyone’s mind, not just mine when Andreas vehemently agrees.
A sudden commotion catches my attention as a deluge of chattering mums with buggies suddenly enter the café. One little boy, a real cutie who looks to be about three or four years old, spies Stix and runs across to her with a grin on his face. “Nic Nic, are you going to read to us again?”
“Um, I’m not sure sweetie,” Stix says looking around and when she spots me she sends me a questioning look. I give her a thumbs up; there is nothing going on that Alison and Emma can’t handle and smile when a few more kids run across to her, each shouting out loudly which book they want her to read from the shelf running along the wall.
Meeting over, Bea and Andreas head back to their stations and I take a sip of my coffee while watching Stix interacting with the kids. She is a natural and somehow manages corral them all into a corner, find a book that they all seem to want to listen to and begins to read. For twenty minutes, even the youngest of the children remains engrossed as she does funny voices and actions. When the story ends, they beg her for another. But some of the mums are calling their children back and eventually they are all reunited with their parents who seem incredibly grateful to have just had a short reprieve. I notice that everyone who came in has bought at least a drink and a piece of cake, as well as bits and pieces for the kids so an idea strikes; this is something we should do more regularly. If we plan it properly, we could fill some of the quieter times in the café and do some kind of promotion so that the mums could get a discount or something along those lines.
I am pondering the idea, remembering all the other things I had planned to set up when the café first opened that I never got around to implementing. Life just got in the way and the café kind of just took off without us have to try very much. I am so lost in thought that I don’t even notice when one of the mums approaches me, “Um, hi, you are Abby, right? The owner?” she
asks.
“Hiya, that’s right,” I say giving her a broad smile, curious as to why she is approaching me.
“I just wanted to let you know that we love your café. And the storytelling is just a fab idea. Tristan has been begging me every day to come past and see if Nicola was doing another session. She is so great, he loved her when we popped in last week,” the mum gushes.
“She is brilliant. I am so glad Tristan enjoyed it. It is not something we have set up formally…” I say before being interrupted.
“Oh please set up a schedule or something. I know the mums around here would love to pop in and be able to have ten minutes of peace while they grab a coffee, if you know what I mean,” she says looking at my belly.
“If you think it would be popular I’ll get something set up. Check out our website, I’ll post something up there in the next few days.” I respond smiling at her enthusiasm.
“That would be amazing. Thanks so much. We love the cakes here so for us mums it's a dream come true to find a place that doesn’t look down on having a bunch of kids in the here.”
“Thanks, I am so glad you guys like it. I will see what I can organise,” I respond cheerfully. She thanks me and then heads back to her group while I start plotting.
.........................
The sun has gone down when I emerge from my office only to find Stix munching on a piece of toast while she pours over some notes. “Sorry Stix, I am a bit late getting dinner sorted. I’ll get it on now,” I say.
“That’s no worries, Abs. I was just a bit peckish and wasn’t sure when Taylor was going to be back.” Stix responds.
“What you working on?” I ask curiously.
“Just my notes on Tess of the d'Urbervilles. My Lit exam is the first one I’ve got and I am not the biggest Hardy fan so I am just trying to wrap my head around it all because it is a while since I actually read the book.”
I let out a laugh. “I love reading, but I never was much good with the classics,” I say to Stix. “I think the only way I got through my exams was by watching the BBC adaptations; some of them are actually quite good.”
“Abs, you are a genius. I never thought about that!” Stix exclaims.
“You should see what Taylor has on his box. He has some totally random things on there so you never know.” I say with a laugh. “Why don’t you clear up and give me a hand making some lasagne. I’ll teach you how to make a béchamel sauce,” I suggest as I begin pulling the ingredients out of the cupboard.
The Twenty-Fourth
Today is the day; Hannah is going to be on the witness stand. My stomach churns every time I think of it. Taylor tried to dissuade me from attending, but I put my foot down this time. I need to look Hannah in the eye when she gets up and lies in court.
I was so nervous the first time I walked into the courtroom to testify that I hadn’t taken much notice of my surroundings. But as I find my seat behind the large bench of barristers and solicitors for the Prosecution I take a good look around me. A large coat of arms sits above the judge’s chair which along with the dark wooden panelling gives the room an austere feel. We are still waiting for the judge to arrive, but I guess that it won’t be long as I see the far door open and the jurors are led in.
It all feels a little surreal, like I am watching an episode of Law & Order: UK, as the judge enters and then finally Hannah is brought to the witness stand. I watch as she stands and makes her oath to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and I can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine when my eyes meet her startlingly blue ones for the briefest of moments. She and I are the only people who truly understand what went down the night she tried to kill me and I am betting anything that what she says on the stand today will be the farthest thing from the truth.
The Defence gets the questions under way and Hannah is doing an excellent job at painting herself as the victim of mine and Taylor’s dastardly deeds. She is wearing a smart blue suit today and her hair and make-up is flawless; I can see she is all out to impress the jury and it is definitely working as I watch the twelve people staring across at her. I find myself growing more and more despondent, even to the point where I start wanting to believe her. Shaking my head, I give myself a mental pep-talk and force the negative thoughts from my head. Emelia promised me that she will be taking her down today, fighting talk that I really hope she can back up with actual action.
It is late in the morning when Hannah finishes answering the Defence’s questions so the judge suggests breaking for lunch before beginning with the Prosecution. The jury are led back out and then the courtroom becomes a babble of noise. Emelia comes over to me, looking regal in her wig and gown, “It’s going to be okay, Abby,” she says to me softly. “I know it seems like Hannah has everything sewn up but I promise you that we will expose her lies and by the end of the day the jury will be walking out of here with no doubt as to what actually happened that night. You just need to hang in there, okay? Trust me,” she implores earnestly.
“Okay,” I say knowing that there is nothing I can do apart from have faith that Emelia will get up and do her job. I am feeling tired and my stomach is grumbling so I know I need to head out in search of some lunch. The moment I turn my phone on outside it rings and I feel relieved when I see that it’s Taylor; I really need to hear a friendly voice right now.
“Turn around,” Taylor instructs after I greet him. I do as I am told and when I look down the street, I catch a glimpse of Taylor pushing his way through the crowds.
“You made it,” I say launching myself into his arms gratefully.
“Sorry, Abs. The meeting just took forever,” Taylor says. “Was it that bad?” Taylor asks taking in my expression.
“Worse,” I mumble. “But Emelia assures me that everything will be fine.” I really wish I could believe that but as ever the doubts start creeping back in and I know Taylor can read me like a book.
“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Taylor replies quietly, clearly having the same doubts as me. “Look, I thought you would be hungry so I got us some lunch. As the weather is nice, let’s escape those reporters,” Taylor suggests as he spots a couple of members of the press making their way over to us. “I thought we could have a picnic.”
“Sounds good to me,” I say as I let Taylor bundle me into a taxi.
Less than three minutes later, though, we are standing at the entrance to Postman’s Park, just off St Martin’s Le-Grand. “I am not sure the taxi was necessary,” I say to Taylor, poking him in the ribs. “I could have walked. I’m not an invalid, you know?”
“Yeah, but this way the press won’t even consider looking for us and we can have our lunch in peace,” Taylor says with a smug grin, apparently impressed with his plan.
“True,” I concede and let Taylor lead me into the small little park, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of the city. We find a spare bench and Taylor begins unpacking our impromptu picnic while I sit back and close my eyes for a moment, letting the sun warm my face. I can hear the gentle trickle of a fountain and when I glance around I spot it along with a sundial and all manner of brightly coloured plants in the beds. The garden is at once tranquil and spectacular and I would have never guessed something like this would be tucked away off such a busy street.
“This place is amazing,” I say to Taylor as I take the chicken salad wrap he hands me.
“I know,” he replies with a smile. “I discovered it a few years back. I was late for a meeting in Paternoster Square and I took a wrong turn and ended up stumbling on this little gem.”
We eat our lunch in companionable silence and it is only once I finish up the fruit salad that Taylor brought me that I begin to fill him on how this morning went.
“They are lapping it up, Taylor,” I say despondently, my mood dipping the moment I start to recall the morning’s proceedings. “I can see by the looks some of the jurors are giving me that they think that I am making it all up, that Hannah is the victim in all of this.�
�� I can feel the tears of frustration pricking behind my eyes.
“You can’t let this get to you, Abs. No matter what happens, everything is going to be okay,” Taylor tries to reassure me.
“How do you know that, Taylor? I mean no one can guarantee that Hannah will get locked away and I am so sick of having all of this hanging over our heads.” The anger in my voice is palpable and, while I know Taylor is trying to be helpful and stay positive, at this point I just can’t help but wonder when life is ever going to ease up on us.
“Come on, we’d better get going,” Taylor says packing our rubbish back into the bag and putting it in the nearest bin. “The judge only said an hour for lunch and it’s about a ten-minute stroll back.”
I let out a sigh, slip my hand into Taylor’s and send out a silent prayer to whoever is out there that Emelia comes through for us this afternoon.
By the time we slip back into our seats in the courtroom, the jury is just being led back in. Taylor wraps an arm around my shoulders, a comforting gesture that makes me relax a little. I watch as Emelia makes some notes as Hannah is led back into the witness box. For the first time, Hannah looks slightly nervous but when she spots Taylor and me, her gaze turns bitter.
Emelia stands up and I find my heart beginning to race, almost as if I am the one getting up to question Hannah myself. “Miss Fisher, would you agree that you have spent the entire morning telling a pack of lies to the courtroom?” Emelia asks, her tone pleasant and light as if she had just asked her whether or not she had enjoyed her lunch.
“Absolutely not,” Hannah replies, her tone aggressive. I watch as the tension radiates off her body, her unease written all over her face.
Emelia begins by going over Hannah’s testimony that stated that she had no knowledge of Taylor until they met in Costa Rica and that she never knew Taylor had a brother until they returned to London. I listen to Emelia’s words and her clever phrasing which I can see is now designed to trip Hannah up and expose her lies.
Book Three: Thirty Days, Book 3 Page 13