Silver Lining

by E. J. Shortall

  “Oh, I’m off next week. It’s half term.” He peers over his shoulder at me, and I shrug with a grin on my face.

  “The life of the school teacher, hey?”

  “What can I say? It has its perks.” He pulls me in closer and ushers me into my room, swatting my backside as I pass him.

  ***

  “What does he see in me?” I whisper to myself as I lean over and draw a large circle on the steamed up mirror. I left Craig in the bedroom so I could take a shower. Of course, he wanted to join me, but I said no. At least someone respects that word.

  Although he’s seen the marks on my wrists, I’d prefer he not see those on my breasts. He was angry enough with the bruises he did see, so God only knows how he’d react seeing the other marks, especially there.

  I continue staring at myself in the mirror, wondering what someone like Craig - sexy, handsome, powerful, charismatic, passionate - would see in plain me, especially now.

  I dry off and slather myself in my favourite body lotion before slipping my pale pink satin nightgown over my head. With one last look in the mirror and a deep breath in, I open the door to step back towards my room, to Craig.

  “Just sign the fucking papers… No, there’s nothing to discuss… Oh please, give me a break.” Craig’s angry voice drifts out from within my bedroom, and I stand still, my hand on the door knob, but I don’t go in. “It’s not going to happen, so just do yourself a favour and sign the fucking papers.” I feel guilty standing here listening, but my body is frozen by the icy tone of his voice.

  “Hey, Ambs. Is everything okay?” Becki’s curious voice startles me from my eavesdropping.

  “Um, yeah?... I mean yes, everything’s fine. And don’t scare the shit out of me like that.”

  She lets out a little giggle, and then looks back at my door. “So why are you lurking outside your own bedroom door?”

  “Craig’s on the phone. It sounds heated, so I didn’t want to disturb him.”

  “How is he? Did you tell him?” she asks quietly as she takes my hand and leads me down the hall and away from my door. I nod and stare down at an interesting mark on the floor.

  “Well, I take it, because he’s still here, that he didn’t go apeshit and leave like you thought he would?”

  “No, he’s fine. Well, not fine. He’s pretty pissed off and wants to do severe body damage to David.”

  “Don’t we all?” Becki interrupts venomously. Ignoring her outburst, I continue.

  “But no, he didn’t run off like I thought he would. Once he calmed down, he was actually very sweet and comforting. He’s asked me to go to his cottage in Devon with him for the weekend. Do you mind?”

  “Why would I mind?”

  “Because since you moved in, I’ve hardly seen you. I thought we could have maybe hung out, gone shopping or something, but I really need this break, Bec. With everything that’s happened over the last few months, I feel exhausted.”

  “Oh honey, you deserve a break. Just make sure he treats you right, okay?”

  “I’m sure he wi-”

  We’re suddenly startled by loud shouting coming from my room.

  “Jesus Christ!” Craig roars, “I’m not going to say it again. Just sign the bloody papers. I’ve had it.” A loud thud makes me jump, and I look from the bedroom door back to Becki.

  “I… um… I guess I better go and check that he’s okay,” I mumble and approach the door cautiously.

  “Craig?” I say carefully as I slowly open the door and peer round into the room. Craig is sitting on the end of my bed, knees spread with his elbows resting on them. His head is bowed, and his hands are balled into tight fists. His entire upper body is rising and falling sharply as though he’s trying to calm himself down. Whoever he was talking to has seriously pissed him off.

  I start to walk toward him, but stop when he looks up. What I see on his face scares me shitless. There’s a rage burning so deeply in his green eyes that they look almost black, and his jaw is so tight that I swear he must be cracking teeth. I’ve never seen anyone look so menacing, almost demonic, and I have to admit that it frightens me.

  “Sorry, Amber. Just give me a few minutes, okay?” The words may be apologetic, but the tone is harsh, wild, and angry.

  “I’ll… um… I’ll just be in the kitchen.” Turning on my heels, I walk as quickly as I can without actually running towards the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so angry before. Craig always seems so calm and in control, and this new side of him is pretty scary.

  With a cold glass of water in my hand, I move over to the balcony door and look out. It’s dark outside now, and all I can really see is the reflection of the lit doorway behind me, but I don’t really notice. I’m lost in my own thoughts. Who was Craig talking to, and what would enrage him so ferociously? Does he often get like that? I saw him go into a mood that day at his house, but that was nothing compared to this.

  Holy shit! The last thing I need right now is to get involved with someone who flies of the handle so easily. The look in his eyes was horrifying. It was a look that should come with flashing neon warning signs above his head to stay away. I don’t know Craig yet, not really. Could he be violent? Becki has hinted things about his past before. Is that what she means?

  I hear a door opening and footsteps on the wooden floors. A shiver of unease flitters through me, but I continue with my unseeing gaze out on the street below.

  “Hi,” he says quietly, walking across the living room toward me, but stopping a few feet away. “Are you okay?”

  I take a deep breath in and slowly turn to face him, terrified of what I’ll see. What I find, though, is not rage and danger. It’s sadness and sorrow.

  He takes a few steps closer, his gaze searching mine as he nears. “I’m sorry for that back there. Do you want me to go? I’ll go now if you want. Just let me know.”

  No, I don’t want him to go. I want him here with me, talking to me so I can help him with whatever it is that’s affecting him so much. “No, don’t go. I… I want you here with me, Craig.”

  “Thank you. I want to be with you too.” He reaches a wary hand out to graze along my forearm, and when I don’t flinch or pull away, he pulls me into his arms with his chin resting on top of my head, and his hands rubbing softly up and down my back.

  I lean into him and wrap my arms tightly around his waist, as though by wrapping him up I can keep any ugliness away and protect him. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about.” His hold on me slackens, and I can already tell he’s going to pull away. Whatever the call was about, he really doesn’t want me to know about it.

  “Maybe if you tell me, I can help. I can be your shoulder to cry on.”

  He laughs briefly, but it’s bitter and holds no humour. His face is sombre. “I’m a man, Amber. It’s a well-known fact that men don’t cry. Why would I need a shoulder?”

  “Bullshit, everyone needs a shoulder to cry on, Craig. Everyone needs someone to share their problems with, to sound off to, and you’re no different. I want to be there for you, like you’ve been for me.” I’m almost pleading with him. I need him to understand that I want to support him, however I can.

  “This isn’t your fight, Amber. There’s no need to get you involved. It’s just something that’s taking far too long to get resolved, but I hope it will be soon. Okay?”

  Craig is shutting me out. Brick by brick, he’s building an impenetrable wall around himself, one that I doubt anything will get through. How am I supposed to get to know him, and act on these growing feelings I have for him, when he’s holding so much of himself back?

  “Okay, I understand, but just know I’m willing to listen if or when you’re ready to open up to me.”

  “Thank you,” he says and visibly relaxes.

  “You’re welcome … You know, it took a lot for me to spill my guts about my past and how I feel. I can’t promise I’ll be able to share more if I don’t fee
l the trust is being reciprocated.” I don’t want to bulldoze him into sharing things with me, but he needs to understand how I feel about him keeping me in the dark. I can’t be with someone again who isn’t totally honest with me.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, I’m just trying to make a point. You say you care about me, that you want me to feel loved and cherished. Keeping me in the dark just makes me feel sad and definitely not cherished.” I turn away from him and walk toward the hallway. “I’m sorry, Craig, but I’m really tired. I just want to go to sleep now.”

  “You want me to leave?”

  “I think it’s for the best.”

  “But I was going to stay the night. I’ve missed you the last few nights.” Craig is trying to remain casual, but there’s an undercurrent of tension in his voice.

  This is all too much. I’m emotionally, as well as physically, exhausted and just need to curl up in bed and shut everything off for the night. “I’m sorry, Craig, but I need to be alone right now. This is all too much for me. I feel like I’m drowning.”

  “I wish I could tell you what’s going on, Amber, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” He bends forward and places a kiss on top of my head and steps toward the door. “We’re still going away for the weekend. I’ll come and pick you up around six on Friday.” And then he’s gone, his footsteps echoing off the walls down the corridor as he heads toward the stairs.

  I close the door and wonder how things have become so complicated. Sure, I had no life with David, but at least things seemed simple with the wool over my eyes and the ignorance of his behaviour. But with Craig, it seems to be one uphill struggle after another. Will we ever reach level ground?

  I walk slowly over to the window and look out in time to see Craig crossing the road to his car. He stops before opening his door and looks back up toward me. His body still exudes power and strength under his jeans and jacket, but his face looks concerned and weary. I continue watching as he gets in the car and drives off.

  Maybe one day he’ll feel he can trust me enough to share things with me. I don’t even think that whatever is bothering him is just to do with the phone call. There’s more to it. I’m sure of it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “A watch pot never boils, you know,” a chirpy voice says to me from my bedroom door.

  “Huh?”

  “Stop obsessing with your phone. He said he’ll be here at six, so at six he will be here.” Becki saunters into my room and slumps down on my bed.

  Since Craig walked out on Wednesday night, I haven’t heard a thing from him. The rational side of me thinks he’s just busy, or he’s giving me space. The other side, the self-conscious and nervous side, thinks this whole relationship is all too much for him. I’m too much for him, and he’s done. I don’t think he would leave me hanging like that, I really don’t, but I can’t be sure. I just don’t know him well enough yet.

  I look down at my phone screen again, because in those couple of seconds it took me to look at Becki, all manner of messages could have come through, right? Okay, so I’m obsessing.

  “I’m just nervous, Bec. The way he left here on Wednesday, and the way I was with him... I don’t know. He just looked… resigned, like he’d given up somehow.” I put the phone down on my nightstand and go back to packing the last few things in my small suitcase.

  “If I know anything about Craig, it’s that if he says something, he means it. He’s a no bullshit kind of guy, giving or receiving it, which is why he’s such a good businessman.”

  “Yeah, I know. I guess I’m just scared that whatever it is that’s going on with him, and with how I am over the whole David situation, he might just think he can’t be bothered. You’ve said yourself that he’s a playboy. Playboys want things simple.”

  When Becki doesn’t respond, I look up to see her shaking her head furiously. “I don’t believe that for one second. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I saw the look on his face Wednesday when I found him downstairs. He couldn’t wait to get in here to see you.”

  Looking across at my alarm clock, I see it’s six o’clock. “I guess time will tell, huh?”

  Five minutes later, I’m debating my underwear choices with Becki when the Intercom buzzes. I pull the barely there black babydoll, that I’d won at an Ann Summers party, out of her hands and shove it back in the drawer before running to answer the call.

  “Hello,” I speak nervously into the receiver.

  “Hi, Pingu. It’s me.” I sigh with relief. He’s here, he sounds fine, and he’s using my pet name, so we must be good.

  “Come on up.” I press the button to let him in and unlatch the front door so he can come straight in.

  Becki’s hauling my case off the bed, looking very sheepish, as I walk back in my room.

  “What did you do?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Moi?” She pulls both hands to her chest and bats her eye lashes “I did nothing. Just shut your case to help you out.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure, because your face isn’t screaming “I’m a wicked, wicked girl” at me right now.”

  She busts up laughing and gives me a brief hug as she walks past. “Oh, but you know I am a wicked girl, Ambs.” And with a wink, she saunters out of the room.

  I hear her say ‘hi’ to Craig in the hallway. “Have fun kids, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she shouts before leaving for her evening out with Scott. I’m so glad things seem to be going so well with them. One female drama is quite enough for this place at the moment.

  Craig is laughing softly and shaking his head as he walks into my room. We look at each other at the same time and remain rooted to the spot, each of us taking the other in.

  He looks amazing in a pair of distressed blue jeans that hang low on his hips. The sleeves of his grey jumper are pulled up on his muscular forearms, and the stark white of his t-shirt underneath only accentuates the vibrancy of his beautiful eyes. I unconsciously lick my lips as I take all of him in. When I finally manage to lift my gaze from somewhere below his waist back up to his face, he’s grinning at me.

  “Like what you see, huh?”

  “Of course.” Heat floods my cheeks at being caught ogling him. I turn away quickly to grab the handle on my suitcase.

  Craig quickly takes the couple of strides to reach me and puts his hand out to take the case. “Here, let me... Jeez babe, what have you got in here? We’re only going away for a couple of days, not a month in the outback. You do know that, right?”

  “I wasn’t sure what to pack. I have no idea what we’ll be doing down there.” I grab my phone from the nightstand and peer up at Craig when I notice he’s stopped moving. “What?”

  “Just thinking… You’ll probably need less than half this stuff for what I have in mind.” He wiggles his eyebrows and starts laughing before carrying on into the hallway.

  I double check I have everything I need, and ten minutes later we’re in Craig’s car heading towards the M3 and Craig’s Devon cottage.

  ***

  Craig is driving down a narrow country road. There are creepy looking trees overhanging it, blocking out what’s left of the evening sunlight, and leaving eerie shadows falling across the road. We haven’t seen another building or car for miles, and I’m beginning to wonder where the hell he’s taking us.

  “Oh my God! Why didn’t you warn me we were entering some wacko horror movie scene?”

  Craig laughs softly and reaches over to place his hand on my right thigh. “It’s okay, Pingu. I’ll protect you. And besides, the werewolves, ghosts, ghouls and axe murderers only come out after midnight.”

  “Very reassuring, thanks.” I look out the window again and shiver at some of weird shapes the trees and shadows make.

  “Surely we must nearly be there?” I ask five minutes later, praying he says yes. Seriously, this road seems to be leading nowhere, and it’s really giving me the creeps.

  “Yes,” Craig replies as he suddenly turns the car into a gated entrance on the
left hand side. He opens his window and taps a code into the panel mounted on a stone pillar, and the large wooden gates open. At first there’s nothing to see, just more trees, but as we drive up the long driveway that veers off to the right, the house suddenly comes into view, and my mouth drops open.

  Craig stops the car in a large gravelled area that can only be described as a car park. I kid you not; you could easily park twenty cars there.

  “Well? What do you think?” Craig asks as he turns to face me.

  “Craig, you said you had a cottage.”

  He looks at me confused. “This is a cottage.”

  “I beg to differ. A cottage is a small two or three bedroom, thatched place with rustic features, a quaint little garden and a white picket fence. This,” I spread my arms out, indicating the expanse of land we’re currently parked on. “This is a mansion. Nope, sorry, it’s a country estate, a huge country estate. Maybe even a country.”

  “But it is thatched, and it does only have three bedrooms, and the kitchen is very rustic,” Craig replies chuckling.

  I roll my eyes at him and reach to open my door.

  “Wait. I’ll help you out.” He quickly jumps out of his seat and jogs round the car to open my door for me. As I get out, he grabs my hand and starts walking toward the house.

  “What about our cases?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll come back and get them later.” He leads us through a landscaped, stepped front garden and up to a traditional heavy wooden front door with original wrought iron hinges.

  In the hallway, my mouth drops again. The place is seriously stunning. For some reason I was expecting a dark interior, but instead I find lots of creams and pale greys, not all that dissimilar to the décor in Craig’s London home. To our left is a wooden staircase that circles up to the first floor. Opposite the front door appears to be a large open plan kitchen and living area. Craig points out that two of the bedrooms, along with the family bathroom and a study, are also on the ground floor at the end of the hallway. The master bedroom suite is upstairs.

  I had been wondering what he meant by suite until he lead me up the stairs. We step into another sitting area that’s probably larger than my whole flat. It has a beautiful open fireplace and bookshelves lining one whole wall. On the opposite and adjacent walls are large picture windows, providing perfect views of miles and miles of rolling countryside.