Champagne Secrets

by Amanda Brunker

  By 2 a.m. he had made a big impression on all of us, but then he stunned us with his decision to leave the party so I could go to bed and get some beauty sleep. After he’d imparted many manly hugs to the men and compliments to Maura for being such a wonderful hostess, I reluctantly walked him out into the hall, not wanting the fun to end. Looking out the window, I could see it was still snowing heavily, so the two of us settled for a fumble at the bottom of the stairs, and began ravaging each other’s bodies as if we had been starved a thousand years. Rory was just in the middle of telling me, ‘If I don’t have sex with you soon, I might just explode,’ when a voice from the top of the stairs started calling.

  ‘Eva! Eva! It’s Daisy, she’s coughing!’ Jack yelled.

  Startled, Rory looked at me and asked, ‘Who’s Eva?’ before quickly glancing back at little Jack in confusion.

  Not prepared to get into any explanations at this hour, I quickly tidied up my clothes and told him, ‘He sleepwalks. I’ll have to go up and put him back to bed. He doesn’t know where he is. Sorry, you’d better go.’ As the tiny voice at the top of the stairs persisted in calling out my real name, I kissed Rory one last time and pushed him out into the snow, slamming the door behind him. By the time I’d shooed Jack into his own bed and checked on Daisy, she had settled herself back to sleep. Peeking out our window from underneath the blind I could see no sign of Rory, other than some footprints in the snow down the path. Scrambling for my phone, I hurriedly texted him. ‘Sorry. U OK?’ The reply was swift as always. ‘Wonderful@I M fallen 4 U xxx.’ Letting out a tiny squeak of delight that made Daisy stir in her cot, I lay down on my bed and texted back, ‘Ditto xx’, before falling asleep with all my clothes and make-up still on and clutching my phone like it was the most precious gift I owned.

  9

  ‘It’s an eco-friendly clockwork vibrator. Genius, isn’t it?’

  ‘Thank you, Lisa. My, er, Earth Angel is a wonderful Valentine’s present. I’m not sure when or where I’m actually going to get an opportunity to use it, but I thought I’d call to say it was very sweet of you to think of lonely ol’ me.’

  ‘What do you mean “where you can use it”? Take it to bed with you. It can’t be as loud as a kango hammer.’

  ‘Mmmm, nice image there, missus.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Yes I do, and thank you. It’s just that although I could enjoy multiple orgasms without the worry of being hazardous to the environment, I couldn’t live with the guilt of pleasuring myself within inches of my innocent sleeping child. We share a tiny box room, remember? It’s just not right.’

  Slightly miffed at my lack of enthusiasm for her postal gift, the Princess made excuses that she had a skiing lesson to finish off – more likely a skiing instructor to finish off! She hung up the phone on me abruptly. Lisa, as it transpired, was not the only person disappointed in me that morning. By the time I made it into the office, I had scripted an entire argument in my head as to why I didn’t want to go – or why I couldn’t possibly even think of going – back to work at Sir Charlie’s. Of course, by the time I was sitting in front of Bradley in his office, the words coming out of my mouth didn’t seem quite as convincing as those that had swum around my head. ‘I’m sorry, Bradley, but I just can’t go back there. You’ve got the footage on your desk now. I’ve told you what I witnessed. You’ve got enough to make your programme. So I’m out.’

  I was waiting for a big angry reaction, but he didn’t deliver it. Instead, he leaned over his desk and calmly explained, ‘I own you. I own Eva and I own Alice. You’re not going anywhere until this project is completed. Have you got that?’

  ‘But I’ve delivered!’ I pointed at my cameras and prayed that I could convince him to let me walk away. ‘You’ve got druggie WAGs, a famous rap producer actually handing over drugs, violent drug-dealing bouncers – oh, and the tea-leafing staff as well. Surely that all adds up to a fairly impressive count – doesn’t it?’

  Sitting back in his chair, Bradley relaxed and conceded, ‘OK, I’ll give you that. You have done well.’ And then, in a guaranteed Westlife moment, he stood up like a boyband wannabe. As if reaching the climax of a song, he punched the air to declare, ‘But you’re on the cusp of breaking something really huge here. I can’t let you just abandon your post. It’s taken us months to try and infiltrate Sir Charlie’s. If you leave now we might never get anyone else in there. At this point in my career I need to be winning awards. This could be the one to do that for me.’

  ‘But I’m scared, Bradley,’ I explained, while thinking to myself how I was also now scared of him. ‘I know you spoke about danger money before, but it’s not worth it to me any more. I was convinced that Craig had figured me out. I thought he was going to kill me or something.’

  ‘But he didn’t.’

  ‘Well, he hasn’t yet, anyway.’

  ‘Listen, girl, you better hear me loud and clear. You’re going back in: we’ve got a contract. And you’re not coming out until you’ve got Craig or some of the doormen dealing drugs. Got that?’

  Feeling my eyes starting to well up and my lip quiver, I asked, ‘And what if I refuse?’

  He looked like a man who was counting to ten in his head to control his anger, and I waited for him to unleash a tirade of abuse, but instead he settled himself down and said, ‘I’m not going to make threats here, I’m not the bad guy. I’m just the guy trying to expose the bad guys. And you can’t do this to me. I mean, if you pull out now we won’t have a programme. We’ve already got financial problems. This will be the end. Surely you don’t want to be responsible for throwing all these people out of work. Anyway, considering all that you’ve achieved in such a short space of time working nights … well, I believe you can finish this within a matter of weeks.’

  ‘Weeks?’ I shrieked, horrified at the thought.

  ‘OK, maybe days. That’s up to you. But I need management and or doormen dealing on camera. There is no walking away from this until you’ve nailed them. Are we clear?’

  Furious that he’d talked me back into more shifts at Sir Charlie’s, I stood up, grabbing my cameras minus their memory cards, then slammed my chair into his desk and stormed off before I could break down crying in front of him. Feeling like a total girl, I locked myself in the toilet and sobbed my heart out, occasionally muffling my cries as other women came in and out. I knew that I had made a commitment to Bradley and that I had no choice but to honour it. I just wasn’t sure where I was going to find the courage to step back into Sir Charlie’s. Even just the idea of coming across Craig or Trappim again made my skin crawl.

  I was day-dreaming about doing a bunk back to Ireland when two texts beeped through to my phone one after another. Fishing it out of my bag, I accessed my messages to see one from DAD, and the other from RAVISHING RORY. Dad’s read, ‘Great night. Lovely to see U. On way home now. Fine bloke U got. Keep him. Love dad xx,’ which of course brought another tear to my eye. Then I quickly flicked on to Rory’s text, which read, ‘Great night. Missing U sexy kisser. Sore head from that spuddy grog though. Can I see U later? xxxxxxoxxx.’ Unable to stop myself, I allowed the tears to flow again at missing my father, and of course my life back home; but even more so over the exasperation of feeling like a fraud.

  Although I was trying to fight it, the lying was causing knots in my stomach. Firstly, I was lying to my family, including Maura and John, about my real job. I vaguely remembered feeding them some bull that I was recording a lifestyle show that wouldn’t be out till later in the year, and that my waitressing shifts were just to boost my income. But I had also lied to Rory about almost everything, and saw no possible way of telling him the truth without him running a mile. Maybe he could forgive me for lying about my job? But about my name? And, worse still, for not telling him I had a baby? Parker was the only one who knew the full truth, and that felt isolating. OK, so we had spoken to Lisa about it, but that wouldn’t necessarily mean she would actually remember. I felt empty and
alone in my deceit, and utterly petrified at the prospect of putting things to rights. In my moment of weakness I texted back my dad, ‘I love U xx,’ something I haven’t told him sober in many years. And to Rory, ‘Missing U sexy kisser xxx,’ keeping my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t ask to see me again that night.

  With the rest of the house out on a family date to the cinema, Daisy and I enjoyed some quality time snuggling on the couch before her bedtime. Michael had texted to say that the first available appointment for Daisy to see the specialist was in six weeks, but that I wasn’t to fret as it wasn’t an issue unless she was in an accident or cut herself badly. A big part of me wanted to write back, ‘I bet your OTHER child didn’t have to wait six weeks for tests.’ But after rewording the text several times over, I fixed on, ‘OK. Stay in touch,’ and patted myself on the back for being so mature.

  By 8 p.m. I had a glass of white wine that was left over from the night before in my hand, and was settling down to watch The Hangover on Sky Movies. The house was peaceful for a change, and the idea of a night off with a few laughs was just the tonic I needed. All I could handle tonight was fictional drama, which offered a welcome break from my own real sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll lifestyle. I was in the middle of tucking a blanket up under my toes when a text beeped through on my phone. No longer in the mood to converse with anyone, I reluctantly opened the text to see RAVISHING RORY’s name flashing up. Good news in theory, of course, but even though I fancied him like mad, all I wanted at this precise time was to be left alone.

  ‘I want to C U tonight xxx’, read the message. It was sweet and exactly the sort of thing women want to hear from hunky single men, but he got me at a weak moment and all I could muster was, ‘Sorry, I’m tired xx.’ Not willing to go down easy, he quickly texted back, ‘I miss U xx.’ So I tried to let him down gently, and texted back, ‘I miss U 2. But I can’t tonight. I’m 2 hungover. Nite nite xxx.’ As if determined to aggravate me, he came back again, ‘Hey sweet lips. What ya doing? xxx.’ Not knowing what else to say I sent back, ‘I’m watching a movie xx.’ ‘That’s cool … Can I watch it 2?’ And with that, this gorgeous guy who I had been fantasizing over the last couple of weeks started to really piss me off.

  ‘Sure,’ I wrote, while wondering if he would pick up on the sarcasm. ‘If U have Sky Movies … switch it on ’. ‘Wouldn’t it just be easier to watch it with you? xx.’ Now mentally exhausted, I wasn’t able for the texting tennis he had started, so I decided to put a stop to it fast. And in a frenzied rage I drafted up, ‘Not really. Stop messing, I’ve just sat down. I wanna watch this. Haven’t seen it B4. I’ll text U later xx,’ hoping that I didn’t sound too grumpy. Feeling a mini-diva moment coming on, I chose to put my phone on silent and stuff it under a cushion to concentrate on the movie. If I didn’t I was in danger of sending him another, even grumpier, text telling him something stupid like shove off. Reasoning with myself that I would just tell him in the morning that my phone had been on the blink, I was literally seconds into drooling over the lead actor when the front doorbell rang. Then it buzzed again, and again, and then a fourth and a fifth time. Whoever it was, they were persistent and determined to wind me up even further.

  Hoping that my caller would push off, I lowered down the TV to listen, but instead of silence the doorbell buzzed another two times. Scared at the sheer doggedness of the person outside, and annoyed at the idea that if they kept at it they’d wake Daisy up, I sat frozen to the seat. Not knowing what to do I prayed that they wouldn’t start banging on the door. With Daisy upstairs I felt extremely vulnerable, so I scrambled to grab my phone again as some sort of security. Looking at the screen, I noticed a new message on it. RAVISHING RORY again. ‘What now?’ I asked myself.

  ‘It’s me outside,’ read the message. ‘Open up, it’s freezing out here xx.’ No sooner had I opened the message than I heard a muffled voice come through the letter box. ‘Hey, it’s me. Open up. I know you’re in there. Don’t start changing your wardrobe on my account. Let me in.’ My brain froze up as I tried to figure a way out of this mess. After all I couldn’t possibly let him inside. I looked like shit. But not only that, I had Daisy upstairs in her cot. What if she woke up and needed me? I couldn’t take that risk – could I? Not wanting to speak to him, I childishly texted him, ‘I’m in bed. Talk to you in the morning.’ But, unsurprisingly enough, he didn’t quite believe me. ‘This is your final chance,’ came the voice through the letter box. ‘I think my knob is about to fall off with the cold. I know you two aren’t acquainted and all, but I’m kinda attached to him. Is there any chance I could at least come in and warm up for a bit? I promise to leave you alone then if you wish.’

  Rubbing my head in despair, I dragged myself off the couch and worked my way towards the door. Not knowing what I was going to say, I swung it open to discover Rory still bent over the letter box with a cold, dejected look across his face. ‘Did I do something to upset you?’ he asked.

  ‘Noooo,’ I replied while releasing some pent-up stress. ‘It’s just—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Come in.’ I pointed towards the living room. ‘Hurry up, you’re letting all the heat out.’

  As he stepped inside it was obvious from his expression that he felt like he had made a very bad decision. I felt awful for denting his ego, but couldn’t help feeling the way I did. Not wanting to ruin what we had started to build, I dug deep to stifle my own bad mood and apologized for acting like a weirdo. ‘Listen, I’m really sorry, Rory … I just … I just had a bad day and wasn’t feeling very sociable.’ I looked at him warming his bum and hands on the radiator and held my breath while waiting for his answer.

  ‘No, I’m sorry,’ he answered coldly. ‘I forgot how bad you were with surprises. It’s my fault.’ As I searched for a plausible excuse for my erratic behaviour, Rory broke in on my thoughts by asking, ‘Is there something I’m missing here? Last night there were sparks. What happened tonight?’

  Knowing that he deserved an explanation, I hummed and hawed before choosing my words very carefully. ‘Listen, Rory. There’s things that you don’t know about me. Things that I can’t explain to you right now. They’re not necessarily bad things – just things. We all have secrets, I’m just not at liberty to share mine with you right now. Have I lost you yet?’

  ‘No. But if you’re looking to go that route I think you may be going the right way about it.’

  Struggling to find the right thing to say, I did what any other woman would have done in that situation, and kissed him. At first he tried to resist, but putting on my best lip service, I could slowly feel his mouth, then face, then shoulders relax into enjoying the moment. Bringing my hands up to cup his face, the contours of his cheeks and bearded jawline lured me closer. Although I knew better than to be entertaining him in Maura’s house with Daisy upstairs, his distinctive manly smell made me weak. We must have kissed solidly for about five minutes before Rory broke away and asked, ‘Do your secrets involve any other lovers?’ His eyes searched mine to check for sincerity.

  ‘No,’ I answered truthfully.

  ‘Any warrants for your arrest? Any highly contagious diseases? IRA connections? What are we talking here?’ Despite originally being angry, it was clear that with the heat and some endorphins finally running through his system, he was beginning to thaw out physically and psychologically. He might have been interrogating me, but he was now doing so with a quirky smile across his face.

  Sensing a playful moment, I joked, ‘Maybeeee.’ But on seeing his reaction I quickly set him straight by saying, ‘I’m sorry. That’s not funny. The answer is absolutely NO to any of your last suggestions. I’m sorry I can’t divulge any more than that right now. You’re just going to have to trust me that I am a good person – and realize that whatever mysterious veil I might be casting over myself, I fancy you an awful lot.’

  ‘How much?’

  I then did my best to put on a Michael Caine English accent and teased, ‘A lot. Not a lot of peop
le know that,’ and smacked another wet kiss on his lips.

  Not noticing the time slipping past, we must have spent at least an hour locked smooching, and without saying another word we went from kissing up against the radiator to a collapsed state of semi-undress on the floor. Although this wasn’t how I wanted our first time to be, I couldn’t help my urges, and braved pulling off my baggy sweatshirt – I figured the lacy see-through bra underneath was hotter than my outerwear. Appreciating the intention, Rory purred at the sight of my almost naked breasts. ‘You are magnificent,’ he cooed, as he gently brushed his stubbly beard across my chest, down over both my breasts and further south across my tummy. ‘I have to ask, though … where is everyone tonight?’

  ‘A movie. Maura and John have taken the kids. But I’m sure we have at least another half an hour before they make it home. That should be enough time. Shouldn’t it?’ He looked at me as if I had just asked him to leave his grandmother in a cold car overnight, and I backed away from him in a moment of confusion. ‘Did I say something wrong? By the look on your face, you’d think I’d asked you to do something immoral.’

  Looking at me with a seriousness that suggested I had fucked up once again, he asked, ‘Is this really how you would like our first time to be?’

  The best reply I could think of was an honest one. ‘No, but as a woman who feels limited in her options, could I ask you to turn a blind eye to convention and go with the flow?’