by T E kessler
He grinned at her. ‘Both.’ He placed slices of cake on plates, then took over a plate to Alison. ‘Here you go, love. I’ll see if I can fathom out the telly in a moment.’
Alison took the offered cake, glanced at it, and then resumed looking at the blank TV.
‘How’s Mum?’ she asked her dad. ‘She seems quiet. Is she worried?’ Beth looked at Harry, saying, ‘She’s shy of new people and places, and takes ages to come around. Renia, our neighbour, was an exception.’
Harry flopped in a chair. ‘She’ll love it here. There’s so much more for her to do, and Renia can visit anytime she wants. This will be your home, Beth, to have whoever you want here.’
‘It’s amazing,’ agreed Steven.
Both men turned to Beth.
‘Well?’ asked Harry. ‘Like it?’
‘Like it? It’s wonderful, Harry.’ She turned to walk around the vast lounge, looking out of the window, running her fingers over the material of the thick curtains and then finally moving over towards the bookshelves and looking at the array of books. ‘Doesn’t any of this belong to the previous manager?’
‘No, it’s all yours. So, what do you think? Are you saying yes?’
She turned and looked straight into his eyes. ‘Yes!’
Steven whooped and began to pour the coffee.
Beth looked at Harry. ‘I accept the position of manager—but until…’
‘I understand. The elephant in the room.’
She nodded. ‘Until then, between you and me, it’s purely business.’
FORTY-ONE
During the week that followed, Beth terminated her contract with Clean Easy and with the Dog and Gun. Colin was overjoyed with her decision and immediately ran to open a bottle of Chardonnay in celebration. He told her later that he’d spent sleepless nights worrying about what she was going to do after he left. He was also pleased that Lara was safe and well—another bottle opened!
Lara phoned daily if Steven or Beth didn’t call her first. She was ecstatic that Beth was back with Harry, and even more thrilled when Beth told her about her new job and their new home. Cheekily, she asked for a job when her contract with her current employer had finished; laughing, Beth replied, ‘Anytime, little sis.’
But at the back of Beth’s mind was Yash. Each time she had a text or her phone rang, her heart seemed to short-circuit, but he never contacted her. The following week came and went, and still nothing from Yash.
Moving into the Rabbit Warren happened faster than Beth had anticipated. They moved out of their little house, said a tearful goodbye to Renia and Waldemar, and moved into their new home precisely three weeks after Beth accepted Harry’s offer.
It was still unclear how Beth and her dad would care for Alison, but for now, she’d live in the pub with Beth. Steven was living there temporarily until he could find somewhere for both him and Alison. He didn’t mention Sarah—she was still a sore subject, but Beth was determined not to speak ill of her. There was evidence he regularly saw her—woman’s perfume on his clothes—so whether she liked it or not, Beth knew she’d have to come to terms with her dad’s new ‘friendship’. But despite what Beth thought, Sarah was good for her dad. She’d put him in touch with a rehab clinic where he could attend sessions several days a week, and she’d also told him he had to tell his doctor about his drink habit. She didn’t give him any choice on that one, asking Beth for the name and phone number of his doctor, which Beth had happily supplied.
Lara came back for a week in mid-October. The leaves were just turning orange and there was a nip in the air. It was a homecoming like no other and a double celebration because Lara had turned eighteen. She wasn’t little Lara anymore. She seemed different, more worldly-wise. She told them all her news and promised them she’d be back for good at Christmas, and then she was gone again.
But it was different this time. It was great. Life was great.
Rob, the old manager of the Rabbit Warren, had joined his family in America; Beth was the sole manager of the pub and she thrived. She loved her new-found leadership skills. Harry often stayed around and regularly dropped hints to move in, but Beth couldn’t commit. Not yet. Not until Yash was well and truly out of the picture. She was almost tempted to text him, wanting to get it finished, but common sense prevailed.
By the end of October, she was beginning to relax. She’d not heard from him since Wandle bridge.
Steven began to spend more time with Sarah, saying he found the smells and the noise of the pub too much to handle, then he started to drop hints that he should move in with Sarah until Sarah suggested he move into a small flat of his own. Beth liked Sarah more after that; it showed she was a strong woman and wouldn’t tolerate any of Steven’s wheedling to have it all his way. And he needed that.
But, one day, Beth asked her dad the question, ‘Are you going to divorce Mum?’
‘Absolutely not! Our marriage is for life. In sickness and in health and all that.’
‘Maybe you feel like that now, but what about the future? Wouldn’t you and Sarah want to marry? Another chance to walk down the aisle?’
‘We’re friends, Beth, that is all.’
He caught the smirk on her face.
‘Okay, so Sarah and I both want to give us a chance. But we’re taking things slowly. And your mum will always be my Ali.’
‘I just want honesty, that’s all, Dad.’
He looked at her levelly. ‘I’ve truly not thought of divorcing your mum. Sarah and I…’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘It’s complicated. Sarah doesn’t want to rush into anything, whereas you know me, I rush in full of impulsiveness.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘I want your mum to have the best of everything. The best care. Everything.’
He still felt guilty for the car crash.
Beth didn’t say anything.
‘Lara likes Sarah,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘I know. And Sarah likes both of you, very much.’
‘Mum wouldn’t want you to put your life on hold,’ Beth said, repeating the words he’d said to her a month ago. She hadn’t believed him then. ‘You have my blessing, you know.’
They hugged.
‘Thanks, love,’ he said.
◆◆◆
A month later and there was still no word from Yash. The Rabbit Warren was getting ready for the Christmas season even though Guy Fawkes night was in full swing. Beth did have a firework party in the farmer’s field: fireworks, a bonfire, a stall selling toffee apples and other sticky, sugar-filled sweets for the local children, plus she’d managed to set up a barbecue corner and settled two of the kitchen staff cooking burgers.
Steven had found a small bachelor pad just a short journey away from Beth; it was just somewhere to ‘lay his head’—his words, if he wasn’t working, he spent most of his time either with Beth and Alison or with Sarah. It was as if he didn’t like to be alone.
It was an adjustment for all of them, really. A nice adjustment.
Towards the middle of November, Beth was beginning to wonder if Yash would ever call. And when Harry asked, again, if he could move in, she said yes.
But then, one dreary December day, she had a text:
Instalment due. Meet as before. Saturday 7 p.m.
It happened as she’d just locked up and the staff had gone home for the day. She stared at her phone, feeling bile rise in her chest. Unable to stop it, she rushed into the customer toilets and retched into a toilet bowl.
She knelt there, head over the toilet, retching and crying. Finally, she sat back and wiped a hand across her face. She stood up, flushed the toilet clean, and shakily walked over to a sink where she splashed water over her face.
She stared at her face in the mirror. She was ashen.
‘Hey, honey, where are you?’ She heard Harry calling her from outside. She listened to the bleep of the alarm as he set it. ‘Alison’s in bed. Honey?’
She looked down at her hands, clutching the edge of the sink. Her knuckles were white. Should she tel
l Harry about the text or keep it to herself? He hardly mentioned Yash, and it was as if that part of her life was over. She could easily keep it to herself, secretly see Yash, and then revert to her life with Harry. He’d be none the wiser.
Wouldn’t that be better than have him worry about her?
Yet part of this nightmare was that she would feel she was being unfaithful to Harry. They were a unit now, and her body was for his eyes only. She was an old-fashioned woman and dreamed of getting married and having children one day, and then growing old together with her husband.
‘Beth? Where are you? Are you in the cellar? Your dad’s gone to work. We have the place to ourselves—well, almost. Honey?’
His voice faded as he moved away. Beth looked at her reflection again. She’d keep the text to herself, she decided, pay her debt to Yash, then forget about it and move on. She nodded to herself. The worst part, surely, was Harry imagining her with Yash. She’d still not told him all that had gone on between them—she was still too ashamed—but he never asked her anyway, not since she begged him to drop the conversation.
Her phone rang, causing her to jump. She ignored it, but its ring was piercingly loud in the tiled bathroom. When it stopped, she took it out and looked at the caller. The call was from Harry.
Unexpectedly, her chin trembled and a fresh sob built up inside her. And then another. She couldn’t stop the flood, and she knew she’d have to tell Harry the truth. She wasn’t strong enough to lie anymore.
‘There you are… Hey, hey.’ Harry’s arms came around her, making her jump. She hadn’t heard him enter the bathroom. He forced her to turn until she was facing his chest. He hugged her long and hard as she cried. He didn’t speak. Finally, when her sobs quietened, Harry let her go and took her hand. ‘Come on, let’s take this upstairs. Alison’s in bed, and I’ve made us hot chocolate topped with cream and marshmallow.’
He led her out of the ladies’ room and across the bar. He stopped and grabbed two glasses and reached for a bottle of whisky from behind the bar. Holding the bottle by the neck and the glasses pinched between two fingers, he took Beth’s hand and led her upstairs to their living room.
On the large coffee table, Harry had set out hot chocolate, which was becoming the norm for Beth after working a late shift. The fire was on and roaring. He put the whisky and glasses on the table.
Beth sat on one of the fireside chairs.
‘No,’ he said, and grabbing her hand, hauled her up and sat her on the settee. He handed her a glass of whisky and sat next to her. He put his arm around her and pulled her close against him. ‘I take it Yash has called.’
Beth nodded.
His arm pulled her closer.
Beth sipped the whisky, its burn not vanquishing any of the sickness she felt. They sat in silence a while until Harry said, ‘What did he say?’
‘He wants what he thinks is owed.’
Harry made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat.
‘If I don’t do as he says, he’ll go after Mum or Lara. I know it,’ she said. The whisky was almost gone in her glass. ‘I can live with what he does to me, but I couldn’t live with what he’ll do to Mum or Lara.’
‘Let me see his text?’ Harry asked.
Beth dipped into her pocket and took out her phone. She found the text and showed Harry.
‘“Meet as before”? Where did you meet him?’
‘The Ranch carpark in East Finchley.’
‘And does he mean this Saturday?
‘I guess so.’
He gave her the phone back with a grunt. He stood up, grabbed a glass, and filled it with whisky. He tossed it down his throat in one. ‘I need more on Yash. I’m going to speak to James.’
She stood up almost violently. ‘No! You can’t involve him. He’ll kill you both!’ She hadn’t forgotten how easily Yash had killed the man in the cellar, all that time ago. His attack had been silent, and so fast she hadn’t noticed until the man had dropped. ‘And then there’s the thought of people knowing what I did with Yash. It horrifies me. I’m so ashamed.’
‘It’s not “what you did”, it’s “what he did to you”. You’re the victim. You have nothing to feel ashamed about.’
‘But Harry… you don’t know what h-he did… what I allowed him to do—an-and enjoyed!’
Harry stared at her, his shock at her words slowly spreading over his face.
‘I’m scared I’m going to like it again,’ Beth said. She brushed a hand over her face. ‘I felt… I felt drugged, even though I hadn’t taken anything,’ she added quickly, as Harry began to say, she guessed, that maybe she had been drugged. ‘I was so scared in the beginning. So, so scared, but after a while he… it… wasn’t so bad.’
‘What did he do?’ he half-whispered.
Beth knew that her admission that she’d enjoyed the experience with Yash had shocked Harry. She shouldn’t have been so honest. She should have kept that to herself, but she didn’t want Harry to play any heroics on her behalf. You couldn’t win against a Jelvia. It’d get Harry killed.
‘Beth, what did he do?’
‘He had me over a table. He lifted my skirt, and he beat me with his belt. H-he stroked me after each lash. It sounds painful, and it did hurt, but after a while, it stopped hurting. Then he put me across his knee and spanked me with his hand.’ She lowered her head. Somehow, that part humiliated her more. She didn’t, and couldn’t, reveal how Yash had spanked her between her legs or how she’d climaxed over his knee. ‘He called it “subspace”. And I’ve Googled it since and found it means many things, but the one thing that I think had relevance to me was BDSM. I was the submissive and Yash was the Dominant.’
There was too much room between her and Harry. She took a step towards him but he stepped backwards.
‘But you liked it with him?’ he asked, as if he couldn’t believe what she’d admitted. He looked as if she’d struck him.
‘I was confused. Afterwards, I thought I was in love with him—that’s how confused I was! It wasn’t like what I feel for you. I felt almost hypnotised. I think he realised and shut me down quickly, so the love d-didn’t last long.’
Harry turned and walked across the other side of the room towards the fire. ‘So you liked what he did, and you fell in love with him?’
‘Harry! You’re twisting my words.’
‘I’m twisting your words? Jesus fucking Christ, Beth. I’ve barely spoken tonight!’ He snatched up the whisky and drank from the bottle. He stared into the flickering fire, his back to Beth.
‘Harry, I’m telling you this because I want you to know that you’ve nothing to worry about. I’ll be okay with Yash—’
‘Nothing to worry about!’ he yelled, turning towards her violently and causing her to step backwards. ‘You’ve just admitted to me that you had a fun sexual experience with another man when all this time I’ve been thinking you’d been abused or raped!’
‘It wasn’t fun! I was scared.’
‘So much so you fell in love with him?’
Her mouth trembled again, and she felt the tears fall from her eyes. ‘It wasn’t like that. And you weren’t back in my life then,’ she added.
‘Oh, oh, right. So that’s all right then, is it?’ He took another swig. He pointed at her with the top of the bottle, sloshing whisky over his hand. ‘Tell me, Beth, what’s the real reason you dumped me the first time?’
‘I don’t know what you mean—’
‘You dumped me for another man, remember. Although you claimed it was a lie.’
‘It was a lie! You know that! I didn’t sleep with another man. I swear, Harry!’
‘Really?’ Harry’s top lip curled back as he spoke. He didn’t believe her.
‘I lied purposely back then, and you know why! It was because I was holding you back b-because my life was too complicated. You were going places—have gone places! You’d have stayed by my side and stagnated like me if we hadn’t had parted.’
‘You dumped me because yo
u thought you knew what was best for me?’
‘Yes!’
Harry snorted and turned his back again.
‘Harry?’
He turned back. His eyes were dark flints. They seemed to spark with rage as he glowered at her. She’d never seen anyone so angry. ‘Tell me this, Beth, did you fuck Yash or not?’ he demanded.
‘No!’
‘But you indulged in other sexual activities that you enjoyed!’
He smashed the bottle down on the wooden coffee table so hard the wood cracked, and the hot chocolate was knocked over and splashed over the table. Then Harry was gone from the room, the door shuddering in his wake.
It took Beth a moment before she could run after him. He was already at the bottom of the stairs as Beth raced down. ‘Harry, please. Wait.’
He didn’t reply, and Beth was too slow. He was out the door and inside his car before Beth was near him. Then he was gone. His Mercedes, skidding slightly on the gravel, raced out of the carpark and disappeared into the night.
FORTY-TWO
Beth ran back upstairs. Her phone was on the settee in the lounge where she left it. She grabbed it and phoned Harry, knowing he had hands-free in his car. It connected and began to ring. A millisecond later, she heard Harry’s ring tone.
She whipped around and saw Harry’s phone on top of the piano at the back of the room. Staring at it, she clicked off and dropped her phone back on the settee. She sat slowly, her hands covering her face, and allowed self-pity to invade her.
Pulling herself together, she stood up and began to pace.
She could call his parents, but she’d never got on with his mum, and when she’d met his dad again before taking over the Rabbit, his open appraisal of her told her he still didn’t have a high opinion of her. If she called him to ask if Harry had gone home, he’d gloat, she knew he would. He wouldn’t tell her if his son was there or not, either.
Maybe Harry would come back once he’d calmed down. She worried because he’d had a drink—albeit not proper whisky-in-a-glass gulp but sips from the bottle—and he’d been in a state. She wrung her hands together. Needing to do something, she cleaned up the mess caused by the whisky bottle.