Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy (Book 1))

by Palmer, Dee

  “Really Ms Thorne, Mr Stone was quite insistent I drive you.”

  “Maybe on the way here Peter, certainly not on the way back, but thank you. Take care of yourself and,” I swallow my tears, “take care of Mr Stone.” I walk home in a numb trance, still gripping the photo that damns me.

  The restaurant is closed but there are a few of the kitchen porters and Joe still doing the final clean down. I don’t want to be on my own right now so I go into the kitchen and pick up a cloth and start polishing the silverware. “Hey girl, you don’t need to be doing that.” Joe’s heavy arm thumps down on my shoulders and gives me a little shake.

  “Actually Joe,” I can’t help the deep sigh that escapes my lips, “this is exactly what I need to be doing right now.” I continue to mindlessly rub the knives, removing any traces of water marks and making them shine.

  “Let me make you something, you are looking really pale girl.” He doesn’t hide his concern in his voice.

  “I can’t tonight Joe.” I’m struggling with the sadness that’s welling deep but rising fast and I plead. “Please.”

  “Alright girl, whatever you say.” He turns his back and carries on putting ingredients away. It’s after midnight and I must still be running on adrenaline and pain to still be awake after the last twenty-four hours. I lock the door after Joe crushes me in a bear hug and says goodnight.

  I enter my bedroom and see the stack of deliveries of expensive beautiful lingerie that has continued to arrive daily. They make an impressive tower in the corner of my room. My mind flashes eBay, I couldn’t wear anything he bought me without having him with me, inside me and I need to start, stop thinking about him. I crawl into bed it’s too late to call Sofia but I want her to know she doesn’t have to worry anymore and selfishly; I want her to forgive me. I send her a text that she will pick up first thing.

  HEY YOU, ALL SORTED NO MORE WORRIES. I’M SO SORRY SOFS PLEASE FORGIVE ME. XB

  My phone rings moments later.

  “Hey sister.” I greet her with our usual greeting. I just hope we can be normal again. “I didn’t want to call you so late but I wanted you to know you’re safe, Paul’s safe.” I’m silent while this sinks in but I need her so much I have to ask. “Can you ever forgive me Sofs, I’m so sorry . . . I. .” I am sobbing quietly, I am desolate.

  “Shhh sweetheart, shhh there’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t actually believe the crazy bitch so I’m just as much to blame for not taking her threat seriously.” I can hear her own regret.

  “But none of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for me. I think maybe, maybe I should move just to make sure, you know.” This came to me tonight while I was polishing, that they would all be safer if I wasn’t around. If I moved to another city.

  “Oh there you go, flight instinct kicked in quick this time, No! I am not losing you. She’s got what she wants, that will be it. Won’t it?” I can hear the uncertainty in her voice so I try to reassure her.

  “Yes that will be it, really she was very clear. She just wants Daniel and now she’s created enough of a reason to disown me, she won’t rear her ugly head again. I know he was keen on a big family reunion but I don’t think that’s the case anymore.” My feeble laugh falls flat. “So other than my last lecture with him next week I won’t be seeing either of them again.” I am saying this to reassure her but I think it’s the truth.

  “Back to normal then eh?” She sounds relieved.

  “Yes, normal.” I’m not touching that one. I am a long way from normal.

  “What happened, why would she disown you now?”

  “You know it’s not important.” I try to sound disinterested.

  “Bets I’m sorry too, I’m sorry you had to choose, it’s fucked up. This whole thing is fucked up.” She is sounding more like Sofia the angrier she gets.

  “It was never a choice Sofs, he’s been in my life five minutes; you guys . . . you are my life.” My chest hurts and I press my fists hard against it to relieve the pain.

  “But it only takes a minute though, doesn’t it?” Her voice is soft.

  “Yes,” I sniff back a few stray tears that are tickling my nose, “yes it only takes a minute but it doesn’t change a thing.”

  IT’S BEEN ONE week, one tortuous week. I haven’t heard from Daniel and a sad reflection of my current state of esteem, means I am not surprised at this. My brave face is more a passive neutral mask but luckily the only people that would probe to see beneath are either at the hospital or in the case of Marco, taken some time off to visit some old school friends who are working a ski season in the Alps. I had one text from Kit the day after which said;

  YOU’RE WELCOME XXK

  But I have heard nothing else, at least her apathy toward me means I am not going to get petty updates or gloating.

  I picked my shifts back up at the restaurant and I have reverted to my pre-Daniel timetable. I have spoken to Sofia every night this week and I know Paul is much better; he is being discharged tomorrow. Marco flew in early this morning and may come over with Sofia later. I’m feeling a little apprehensive as the last time we were together like this seems a lifetime ago and not just in the sense of time but in what has changed too. I open a large bag of chocolate buttons and pour them in a communal bowl on my coffee table, grab a couple of glasses and start to open the wine. I hear the back door open and the sound of Marco and Sofia laughing as they climb the stairs. I instantly relax, maybe we’re not so changed, they burst through my door.

  “Hey Boo!” Marco rushes and squeezes me tight lifting my feet clean off the floor and I yelp as the wine bottle almost slips from my hands, almost. He plants an aggressively affectionate kiss on my cheek and slumps on to my sofa. Sofia’s embrace is a little more sedate but just as loving. I put the wine on the table and go to fetch another glass.

  “What is this you’re listening to?” Sofia’s tone accusatory and she raises her judging brow. “No wait, I think I have this album is it volume one or two of ‘Music to hang yourself by’?”

  “Ha ha, you are so funny. It’s just a playlist, with a slightly morbid bias I admit, but it just fits my mood of late and I find it strangely comforting.” I defend.

  “Well, wallowing is definitely better than running?” She quips but her tone is almost a warning.

  “Who’s running? Why would you be running, this isn’t about Daniel the Dick now is it?” Marco pours his wine and grabs a handful of chocolate.

  “I’m not running-” I’m interrupted.

  “Damn right you’re not!” Marco and Sofia chorus with the exact intonation, it’s spooky.

  “I’m not running, I might be wallowing . . . a little and he’s not a dick, well he might be for believing her shit, but I can’t really blame him.” I walk over to my desk and pull the crumpled photo from the draw and throw it on the table next to the wine. Marco sits instantly and shoots his mouthful of wine all down his front, hitting the table and the bowl of chocolate.

  “Oh gross Marco, I was going to eat those.” Sofia reprimands her brother because she hasn’t yet noticed what caused his reaction. He wipes his mouth and the droplets from his shirt and jeans before he leans to pick up the photo.

  “Bets?” He looks shocked and confused.

  “What the fuck!” Sofia grabs the photo from Marco’s hand and studies the image. Marco is looking at me and then back to the photo.

  “Bets, what is that?, No wait, why do you have that . . . no wait just explain all of it?” They both look at me. Their eyes are identical but Marco’s are confused while Sofia’s are all concern.

  “It’s one of a set, but this one was Daniel’s favourite and he wanted me to have it.” I say with exaggerated affection. I explain the sequence of the other photos, the train wreck that followed and sit dejectedly in my armchair. Sofia squeezes next to me, it’s a tight fit and I laugh because I don’t think she realised it would be this cosy; we are practically nose to nose.

  “You know that’s not you right?” Marco’s ridicul
ous observation makes us both bark out with laughter.

  “Yes I’m pretty sure I know that’s not me.” This tragedy momentarily morphing into a comedy.

  “That’s Rose, but I don’t understand. She has a massive tattoo on her arse, I mean it’s massive. A massive rose tattoo.” He repeats dazed. “She’s the right build and her hair kind of looks the same as yours, so yeah she looks a little like you.” He catches my eyes I’m still chuckling, “and don’t get freaked I’m not harbouring any latent desires for a round two, sorry a round one with you Bets. Rose is really into me, she’s fit and feisty in the sack.” He holds up the photo. “Exhibit A, I believe; but that doesn’t explain her disappearing tattoo?”

  “No but Photoshop would.” Sofia adds.

  “He believed this?” Marco’s voice is sterner and I can see his jaw start to grind.

  “He believed what he saw.” I sigh sadly remembering his exact words.

  “He’s a fucking idiot and she . . . she is a fucking bitch.” He is openly angry now and I tense. “Why the fuck are you letting her get away with this?” I feel Sofia tense beside me.

  “I have nothing, other than her birth certificate, which I doctored to get my place at Uni. I have nothing that proves she is anything other than what she pretends to be. She has completely and successful rewritten her life and I now have the starring role of ‘villain.’ She destroyed everything from her life before, I remember the bonfire in the garden, her fresh start. Everything went, photos, school reports, diaries, clothes. She left with the clothes on her back and a big fat cheque.” My voice has been slowly rising so I take a calming breath. “I think she did me a favour with the photos; he was so quick to believe her. I think . . . no, I know he didn’t love me, not like . . .” I feel a rush of tears that I hold in my lids and a tingle in my nose. I let out small puffs of air to prevent my free fall and Sofia puts her arm around my shoulders awkwardly pulling my head into her neck. We are just too close for this to be comfortable but I take comfort from the gesture. This is just bearable believing Daniel didn’t love me and it will mean that Marco won’t need to be fighting my corner anytime soon.

  “Look I have nothing to gain from trying to expose her, it might be different if . . .” I hesitate, it wouldn’t be different because she is clinically insane but if Marco knew about her threat, well I physically shudder at that thought. “If he loved me.” Is a perfectly plausible reason to let it go and Marco seems appeased with my reasoning. Sofia doesn’t say anything but she holds a well of sadness in her face. She still has this misguided romantic world view where she truly believed Daniel loved me and for that she is a little heartbroken but for her I will be made of stronger stuff. I kiss her cheek and whisper, “I’m happy with my ‘no-more’ Sofs and I want you to be too.”

  “Yeah you sound happy.” She nods toward my iPod speaker and I laugh.

  “God Bets, Sofia is right, I’m on a freaking high from an awesome holiday and even I want to hang myself!” Marco moans.

  “Alright, alright I’ll change the tunes.” I lever myself from the armchair and pick up my iPod and start to scroll. “If you’re looking for upbeat I can offer you a whole play list of Disney Film soundtracks?”

  “What are you, seven?” Marco grabs my IPod and throws it on the sofa promptly replacing it with his and is a mix of Killers, Arctic Monkeys and Muse. Perfect. “So are you going to ask me about my trip or is it all about you girls tonight?” He pouts and pours another glass.

  This is the last of Daniels’ lectures and I am again sat high toward the back of the theatre with Mike and Sam either side. I am all nerves and excitement, which is really stupid. I haven’t been eating too well either but made sure I had at least consumed a granola bar and some juice. I won’t be fainting again no matter what stunt he might pull. The room falls instantly silent as his powerful presence emanates across the room. My body responds like the traitor it is with a flush of prickles covering my skin and an increase in my heart beat. I only brave fleeting glances toward the stage but each time it is clear Daniel’s focus is on his notes and the screen. His lecture is brilliant and there is only one moment when his eyes meet mine. The bright dark blue eyes reflect no recognition, no acknowledgment of any prior intimacy and I am consumed by an excruciating pain in my chest at his obvious indifference to me now.

  “Looks like you’re off the hook this week Mrs.” Mike nudges me and smiles.

  “It would appear so.” I offer quietly. I look at my empty page, I have taken no notes despite the rich material offered and Sam looks at my page.

  “Not like you nerd?” He nods to my page with the query across his brow.

  “Oh don’t worry it’s all in here.” I tap my temple and start to pack my bag. Everyone around me has started to shuffle and make their way to the exit but I decide to sit until the room is clear and then wait a bit longer. I can fool myself that he might not have seen me in the room full as it was; but an up close and personal encounter, I know I won’t fare so well. I have to wait a while for the room to clear as Daniel takes his time with the overly keen students vying for his attention. I rest my head in my arms and close my eyes, a huge mistake. I am woken; and I don’t know how much later but there is definitely a little drool in the corner of my mouth, by the kind face of my course leader. He is gently shaking my shoulder as I re-orientate. I discretely wipe my mouth and smile, wow I am embarrassed.

  “Sorry Mr Wilson, it’s very warm in here and I must have been a lot more tired than I thought, sorry. I didn’t fall asleep in the lecture.” I add quickly hoping he wouldn’t think me that rude and he laughs.

  “Well it wouldn’t be the first time a student has my dear, but I believe you. I was just coming to lock up and saw you. Lucky I did or you might’ve been here all night.” He laughs again. Really I’m so exhausted I probably wouldn’t have woken before morning anyway.

  “You lock up the rooms?” That didn’t seem right, surely that is more a job for security than for a Head of Department.

  “When I’m asked to.” He still hasn’t moved to allow me to get up. “Bethany, I wanted to check how you are doing? You seem a little pale and well, you just don’t seem yourself, some of the Lecturers’ have commented and I wanted to make sure you are Ok?”

  My face flushes red with this level of concern; again I think this is outside his remit as course leader. “Oh, that is very kind, I’m fine, really I’m fine. I love the course but I have been working a few extra shifts and I just think it’s taken it out of me, but nothing to worry about.” I insist. “I’m fine.” I smile but my stern tone I hope will field further personal questions. I go to move, but he still makes no indication that he is about to join me in leaving the theatre.

  “You don’t seem fine.” Ok, so maybe I need to work on my stern ‘don’t ask me any more questions tone,’ but he looks so sincere and kind there is no way I can get cross at his insistence.

  “My mother died recently.” I know it was mean to use this excuse and make him uncomfortable in the process but it does have the desired effect.

  “Oh, oh I am sorry Bethany.” He reaches for my entwined hands and squeezes. “I had no idea.I understand how traumatic that must be . . . if you need anything from me, you know you only have to ask.” He pushes himself up out of the seat and I follow him along the row. “We better get a move on or we will both get locked in and that will have tongues wagging.” He gives me a cheeky wink, any awkwardness vanishes and we both laugh.

  It is dark across the Quad and there are only a few students left. I decide to walk home. I know it will take me a good hour but I am in no hurry to be alone in my apartment. Besides, I love London at night this time of year. The Christmas decorations are up and the luxury arcades along Piccadilly look spectacular, festive and magical. The window display in Fortnum and Mason is decadent and luxurious, with mountains of mouth-watering Christmas Fayre arranged in a feat of gravity defying art; glossy glazed fruits, rich dark chocolates and cinder toffee; thick mince pies and
delicately iced Christmas cakes. My tummy rumbles as I step my first foot on the Piccadilly road in anticipation of passing these windows.

  I reach the corner of the street just after Fortnums’ when I notice Daniel’s driver standing at the back of his car, he waves me over. I look around, I don’t know who would be following me but I still want to check I don’t recognise anyone.

  “Hey Peter.” I greet him cheerily. “Christmas shopping on the clock?” I quip. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the boss, us ‘staff’ have to stick together.” I snort.

  “You were never staff Ms Thorne.” He tells me quietly.

  “I think you’ll find I was.” I’m still smiling, it might hurt like fuck but there is no reason for everyone else to know that. “Anyway, how you doing?”

  “I am well Ms Thorne and you? Are you keeping well?” His voice is tinged with concern and I wonder how much he knows, probably more than I would want but his eyes are kind.

  “Really Peter, Bethany is fine, actually Bets would be much better and yes I’m fine.” I wonder if I am using that description more because I know how much Daniel hated it, I smile at this. “I’m fine, anyway it’s freezing so I’ll maybe see you around.” I turn to leave.

  “May I please drive you home, as you say it is cold and it is still some distance from here?”

  “Oh I don’t think that would be a good idea.” I say in a gravely humorous tone, “if you’re not in trouble for Christmas shopping you’d probably get the sack for giving me a lift, not worth the risk my friend.” I laugh. “It’s not that far through Green Park.”

  “I can’t let you walk through the park Ms . . . Bethany.” Bless him, he is struggling with the informality.

  “Don’t sweat it and no offence Peter but it’s not your call. Thank you all the same, see you.” I turn and head off at a brisk walk. I decide not to go through the park, the streets are busy and the roads are gridlocked but when I turn to cross the road I notice Peter is slowly following me in Daniels’ Bentley. The traffic is moving no quicker than my walking pace so he is pretty much on my heel the whole way to Knightsbridge. We even pass one another several times and I wave, he looks exasperated at my stubbornness but he’d not thank me if he got the sack just before Christmas. I remember painfully that I was escorted from Daniel’s building; he would throw a shit-fit if I was using his personal driver for my own convenience.