I walk back over to the kitchen, fill a glass with water and find some Nurofen – he’s definitely going to need it – and head back over to him.
Tristan picks up another pizza slice, although how he’s managing it I don't know. I watch it sway in the air as he tries to guide it towards his mouth, I almost reach out to help, but he finally manages it. He demolishes the second slice then smiles apologetically at me.
“You...” he whispers. “Always you...forever...” He breathes, his eyes barely open now.
“Tristan?” I tap his cheek, he sleepily opens one eye. “Take these,” I say, he smiles goofily at me and tries to sit up, but it doesn’t happen.
Wow, he really is drunk!
I climb onto the sofa, and kneel next to him. “Tristan! Open your mouth.” He pops his mouth open then smiles drunkenly at me – This is funny! – But not working!
“Tristan, push out your tongue,” I say, trying not to laugh. He pops his tongue out so I pop the tablets on. “Here, take a sip.” I put the glass to his lips, he takes a good couple of gulps, his head swaying, his eyes barely open. “Ok?” I ask, taking the glass off him.
“The room is spinning!” He says, trying to focus on me.
“I know baby it’s ok. I'm here, sleep now,” I soothe, stroking his hair. And just like that, his head hits the back of the sofa and he’s out cold. Oh boy!
I get to my feet and silently tip-toe up the stairs. Grabbing the quilt from the spare bedroom, I carefully head back down the stairs, so I don't fall over – that would not help!
Reaching Tristan, I throw the quilt on the floor and step over to him. I lift up his legs, swinging him round as I do, and prop them up on the sofa. His upper body has moved in the process, but it doesn’t look very comfortable, so I take his inner arm and pull, so that he’s lying in the recovery position. Placing a pillow under his head, I lean down, stroke his hair, softly kiss his temple, and place the quilt on top of him.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” I whisper to him. Then shaking my head at him, I head into the kitchen to clean up the mess...
IT’S EARLY, 8AM TO BE PRECISE. Rob is going to be here in two hours with Carlos and his team of people. The house is being decorated today for the wedding – what Rob has in mind I do not know – Tristan and I have strict instructions not to be here when it all starts this afternoon.
Apparently, I am only allowed back in the house later tonight as long as I’m downstairs on the ground floor, or up in our bedroom. The same applies to tomorrow morning. I have to stay upstairs all morning until it is time. If I want anything, I have to use my mobile and call down to Edith. Ridiculous!
Tristan is not staying with me tonight. Rob’s one condition for doing this, he said ‘break all other traditions, but the groom does not spend the night before with you, or see you until you walk down the aisle’. I rolled my eyes at him, but agreed.
Apparently, Tristan’s staying at Joyce’s, and Rob and Carlos are staying here with me, or at their place, whichever I decide. As per Rob’s instructions, this morning will be my pre-wedding try out. Once I’ve tried the dress and shoes on, and Carlos has styled my hair, and done my make-up, Tristan and I are practically being frogmarched out of our own home!
Rob has given his spare keys to me though, so at least Tristan and I have somewhere to hang out today – That’s if he wants to see me?
I sigh inwardly and take a sip of coffee. Will he still be mad with me?I’m mad with him, he has a lot of explaining to do. I just don't get why he blew up like that? Maybe he has wedding nerves? It’s supposed to affect men more than women, or maybe not! I just don't know.
I stare at his beautiful face and take another sip of coffee. He’s going to have a very sore head today. I wonder if Stuart can get him up to our room without waking him? I really don't want anyone to see him like this, and I know Rob will ask questions, which in all honesty, I won't have the answers to.
Is the wedding still on?
I have no idea.
Did Tristan stay out all night deciding our fate?
Again I have no idea.
Does he really feel as though I don't trust him?
Because I do, with my life.
Is he really doubting us?
I truly hope not!
I take another sip of coffee. I know he said a lot of lovey-dovey stuff last night – and I’m pleased as punch that he’s a happy drunk – but that doesn’t mean he’s changed his mind, people say all kinds of crap when they’re drunk. I guess I’m not going to get any answers until he’s awake, and if we both decide to end it, there’s no point in any wedding preparations because there won't be any wedding to go to!
I feel really pissed with myself again. I should have just told him I was going to see Susannah. If I had, we wouldn’t be in this situation. I shudder slightly remembering what she did. Then I sigh inwardly. If Rob thinks I’m having seconds thoughts, he’ll call the whole thing off – I know he will! Damn it!
I walk over to Stuart. He’s sat at the breakfast bar, quietly reading a newspaper and sipping his coffee. He turns and smiles at me.
“Stuart, would you be able to carry Tristan up to our bedroom?” I ask. “I don't want anyone seeing him like this,” I add my eyes downcast, my fingers twisting against one another – I am so anxious!
“It’s no problem,” Stuart says. He gets to his feet, then taking me by surprise he squeezes my left arm. “You alright?” I glance up at him, nod once then look down at the floor, trying to hide how I’m really feeling. “Ok, let’s get him upstairs.”
I head up the stairs, Stuart following with Tristan. When I reach our bedroom, I yank the door open as wide as it will go so Stuart can get through. Walking over to the bed, he places Tristan down, nods once to me then leaves.
With a heavy heart, I place his glass of water on the side, along with some Nurofen, and my cup of coffee. Then I pull the curtains across, leaving just a small gap so it’s not pitch black, then I get Tristan into a comfortable position, and scribble a simple note for him.
I’m sorry X
I leave it next to the water, and stare down at his face while he sleeps, drinking him in. This maybe the last time I ever get to do this. I want to kiss him, kiss his warm cheek, but that just feels like I’m prolonging the agony of what may come – No, better to cut myself off now, than make it any worse. I take one last look at him, pick up my cup, then turn away.
I decide I can't let anyone know what’s going on, I am going to have to be brave, suck it up and be like I used to be, act as though nothing bothers me, but the fear of us ending grips me again, and I choke back the tears. Someone taps on the bedroom door, making me jump – Shit!
I dash the tears away and quietly open the door, so as not to wake Tristan.
“Coral,” Edith whispers. “Your mobile’s been ringing,” she adds, her tone soft as she takes in my pitiful expression.
“Thanks.” I take it off her.
“Can I get you some breakfast lass?” I shake my head at her. “Ok.” She reaches up, squeezes my arm then heads down the stairs.
I un-lock my mobile and see I have two missed calls from Joyce, one from Malcolm and a text from Debs.
I open the text first – Are you ok?
Why would Deb’s text me that? I send her one back.
Yes I’m fine – It’s all I can muster.
Then I take one more look at Tristan, feeling torn in two. Part of me is still pissed at him, but the other part is terrified that he may wake up and say that everything he said last night was true, that he does feel that way. I know there’s nothing I can do about it, if that’s his decision, but the thought of not having him in my life is making me feel that empty, hollow ache I used to have – And I don't ever want to feel like that again!
I take deep steadying breath and head out the bedroom, softly closing the door behind me.
Back downstairs, I head over to the kitchen and pour myself another coffee. I didn’t sleep a wink last night,
I literally watched the sunrise as I sat next to Tristan, wondering the whole time what today will bring – I choke back tears again.
Oh God, please don't leave me Tristan!
Trying to get myself together I pick up my coffee, head down the stairs and walk out into the garden. It is yet, another beautiful, blue skied, sunshiny day. It is not reflecting my melancholy, slightly pissed mood at all. Sitting, cross legged, in the middle of the lawn, I put on my sunglasses and return Joyce’s call first.
“Hello sweetheart.”
“Hey Joyce.” I go for upbeat, but sound morose.
“I thought I would give you the heads up,” Joyce says, sounding worried. My heart instantly plummets to the bottom of my stomach, my cup of coffee starts shaking so badly in my hand that I have to put it down.
“Coral?” Joyce prompts.
“Heads up?” I croak.
“Gladys is on the warpath!” Joyce says. Huh? I instantly feel brighter as this isn’t about Tristan.
“Sorry?” I ask, bemused.
“Darling, she knows about Susannah’ – “How?” I gasp.
“It was in The Argus darling.” Jeez, bad news really does travel fast!
“Oh crap!” I groan, holding my head in my hand. “What does it say?” I ask.
“That you were there when it happened. And Gladys, well you know what she’s like, she’s on her way over to you.”
“What?” I screech. “No! Joyce, I can't...I can't handle this right now!” I stop, gritting my teeth and trying to choke back the stupid ass tears.
“Why Coral? Whatever’s the matter?” Joyce asks her tone soft.
“I...” I can't speak. And I’m not even sure I want to share either.
“Darling would you like me to come over?” She softly adds.
“Please Joyce, that would be...” I stop again and take a deep breath.
“I’ll see you in five,” she says and hangs up.
God damn it! – I cannot have Gladys over here now. I need to call her, calm her down. Feeling beyond tired, I pick up my coffee and take a quick sip, then I call Malcolm’s number, but I already know I’m too late, I can hear Gladys shouting upstairs.
“Hello Coral,” he says. I swear he’s rolling his eyes.
“I’m in the garden,” I tell him. “And can you please ask Mom to keep her voice down! Tristan was working late, he’s still sleeping,” I hiss.
“No problem Coral.” Malcolm hangs up and the shouting quickly stops – Thank god!
I sigh, curl my hands around my coffee cup and sit sipping it. I see Gladys appear in my peripheral vision, she makes me laugh when she’s mad; especially when she is walking fast and wobbling all over the place.
Stopping in front of me, her face like thunder, her hands on her hips, she opens her mouth to begin, but I quickly cut in – “Mom!” I shout, holding my hand up to stop her.
“I know you’re upset, but it was my choice to go and see Susannah, no-one else’s. I am a grown woman who will do what she wants, when she wants to do it. You gave me a chance at a good life, a wholesome life. Can't you understand that I wanted the same for Susannah? She lost her baby, and her husband died in Iraq; he was the love of her life Gladys. Your husband only left you, but I’m guessing it still devastated you?” I question.
“Well, yes of course it did’ – “Imagine he hadn’t left, and like John, he suddenly died. Try to imagine what that would have felt like. Because I’m guessing it would have felt a trillion times worse. I wanted to help Susannah, give her a second chance. You taught me that, that people screw up and you have to forgive them and give them another chance.”
Hmm, maybe that’s what I should do with Tristan?
“Coral Stevens! That has nothing to do with this. Joyce hasn’t gone postal because John died has she?” She screeches.
I shake my head in exasperation. I don't need this right now!
Gladys continues. “She was unstable Coral! Can't you understand that I didn’t want you anywhere near her? What if she tried to...to do something to you when she killed herself, what if she attacked you? She tried it once before, almost killed you for goodness sake! And if she’d have succeeded, then no, absolutely not, I would not have given her a second chance. Do you think rapists and murderers deserve second chances?”
I wince at her words. “No!” I bite.
“Well then!” She huffs, puffing her cheeks out.
Malcolm appears with two cups in his hand. “Good morning Coral.” He smiles apologetically at me as he passes Gladys her coffee.
I try to smile at him. “Mom, apart from coming over here to shout at me, is there anything else you are here for? – Because I have a hell of a lot going on today!” I say, trying not to shout.
“Oh well...no,” she says, sipping her drink. “Well, apart from wanting to see you, make sure you’re alright.”
I grit my teeth and stare straight ahead.
“So are you alright?” She asks.
“Fine! Thanks for asking,” I bite sarcastically.
“Oh Coral, I’m sorry,” she says, softening a little. “Did she really...you know...in front of you?”
God damn it!
“Darling, I don't think that’s something Coral wishes to recall.” Malcolm softly says.
I half smile at him – Thank you Malcolm!
“No....well...I suppose not,” Gladys says. “Are you alright though darling?” She asks again in her soft, mothering tone.
I almost crumble. “Yes Mom, I’m fine,” I sigh. “And I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
“Well, I’m sorry for shouting....” Malcolm seems to be prompting her. “And well, for not listening before judging,” she adds, taking another sip. Whoa!
“It’s ok, I understand your point of view,” I tell her, trying not to sound too gloomy.
Maybe I should just go and wake Tristan up. I hate not knowing what’s going to happen between us!
“Darling, we must be going,” Malcolm says. “Off to collect the family, I’ve put them up at the Hilton, didn’t want them being late tomorrow,” he explains, his eyes twinkling brightly.
Right – tomorrow!
“I’ll see you out,” I say getting to my feet – I need more coffee!
At the door, I say my goodbyes and leave it open as I see Joyce arriving in her car, they both beep their horns and wave as they pass one another. Joyce smiles warmly at me as she pulls up and steps out of her car, I try to smile back at her.
As usual she looks like she’s just stepped out of the salon, perfect nails, hair and make-up. She’s wearing a fine, cream silk trousers suit, that just makes her look – wow! How does she do that?
“Darling,” she says walking towards me, arms open wide. I fall into them and manage, somehow, to keep the tears at bay. Joyce goes to pull back, but I grip her tighter, not wanting to let go. I suddenly realise that between Joyce and Gladys leaving (although Gladys isn’t now) it’s Joyce who I’ll miss the most, much more than Gladys.
I try to understand why that is? Gladys is my mother, Joyce my aunty, and I love them both, unconditionally. Then it hits me, Joyce is my inspiration. She is a headstrong business woman; a woman I have always admired, and I will always feel indebted to her. Joyce gave me a job, a vocation, and she may not realise it, but her no nonsense attitude is what kept me on the straight and narrow.
“Come along now, you’re made of tougher stuff!” Joyce says, squeezing me one more time. Then she pulls back so she can assess me. “I see I was too late,” she says, gesturing to Gladys and Malcolm.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah...but it’s her way of showing she cares,” I say.
“Yes, she does.” Joyce smiles.
“Would you like a drink? I ask, trying for upbeat and failing miserably.
“Tea please Coral.” I smile, feels like I’m back at work. Joyce follows me into the kitchen and sits on one of the breakfast stools. “Now,” she says in a very business-like manner. “Let’s talk.”
I quickly
whip my head round to her and silently shake my head. I don't want anyone to overhear our conversation Then I mouth ‘downstairs’ to her. Joyce nods once, understanding.
When I’ve made her pot of tea, and placed all the essentials onto a tray, I add my coffee cup and we head out into the bright, sunlit day. We sit on the large outdoor sofa, the same one George and I sat on.
“So, I guess you know that Tristan and I had a fight last night?” I ask, taking a sip.
“Yes.” Joyce says, sipping her tea.
I grit my teeth in frustration. “I think we’re through,” I say.
“Nonsense!” Joyce quips.
I turn and look at her, feeling surprised. “He said so Joyce! And to be quite honest, I don't think I want to be with him either, not after the way he shouted at me!”
“Coral, we all say things we don't mean in the heat of the moment. Goodness, John and I...we had some terrible fights, but we always knew that the love would still be there, no matter how bad the fight was, or what we said, or how hurt we were; we always came back to one another.”
I frown at the floor. “So he told you what happened?”
“Briefly.”
“I can't believe he stayed out so late – and got so drunk!” I add.
“Late?” Joyce questions.
“Um yeah...he didn’t get back till gone three and he was really drunk,” I scoff.
“Three?” Joyce gasps.
“Wasn’t he with you?” I ask my eyes wide with fear. If he wasn’t then who was he with?
“Coral, you always think the worst!” Joyce says a little exasperated. “He came over at around eight-ish and left after midnight, but I’m sure he was alone for the rest of the night. Probably avoiding coming home to you because he’d walked out on you, he did say he wasn’t feeling too good about doing that.”
“Oh!” I look down at my cup again.
“Darling girl, you have to start learning to trust, and not worry so much. Yes, he was angry that you didn’t tell him what your plans were, especially as it involved Susannah, but I think you’ll find that he was much more upset with the fact that you were there, alone when she...” Joyce trails off.
Darkest Fears Trilogy: Fallen For Him / Freed By Him / Forever With Him Page 135