by Nikki Ashton
Roman and I tried to keep things professional at work, but it wasn’t unusual for him to call me into his office, slam the door behind me and then kiss me within an inch of my lung capacity. Also, I don’t know how he did it, because we arrived for work at the same time, but every morning there would be something waiting on my desk for me. Sometimes it was simply a Post-it note that said: ‘I love you’—or something much dirtier. Other times, I’d had a cupcake with a marzipan heart on top; a packet of Love Heart sweets and a bunch of wild daisies—my favourite flower. Whenever I thanked Roman he would grin shyly and shrug, and I loved him a little bit more.
If was Friday evening and Roman was having a night off from Ziggy’s. We were walking through town, going for an early dinner as Roman had plans to see an old friend, Marcus, that night. He’d been extremely apologetic when he’d told me of his plans, and I couldn’t understand why. I wasn’t one of those girlfriends that couldn’t bear to be apart from her man. A good night’s sleep in my own bed would do me good anyway, if only because I could starfish across the bed for a change.
‘Have you eaten here before?’ I asked as we walked across the road towards the Italian restaurant where we were having dinner.
‘No, you?’
‘No, but Pippa said it’s lovely.’
My heart sank at the thought of Pippa, who was still living with Jack Abbott. I couldn’t believe how stupid and selfish she was being, and just wanted her to come home.
‘That’s good,’ Roman replied, sounding a little distracted.
Although he was holding my hand and rubbing his thumb along the back of it, his concentration didn’t appear to be on me, but on the cobbled path under our feet. In fact he’d been pretty distracted all day. Okay, maybe not this morning when we were having shower sex: then he’d been totally concentrated.
‘Are you okay?’ I tugged on his hand to get his attention.
Roman looked up at me and gave me a smile.
‘Yeah, fine.’
His gaze shot back down to the floor.
‘Roman, what did we discuss on the side of the road a few days ago?’ I pulled us to a halt, a few steps away from the restaurant. ‘What do you need to tell me?’
‘Sorry,’ Roman replied, ‘still finding it difficult to not worry you.’
‘So,’ I said, tugging on his hand. ‘Spill.’
He sighed heavily and nodded.
‘I’m struggling to get enough sparks for The Palisades. The only electrician I can get is Johnny Mountjoy, and he can only give me a month.’
‘I take it Jack Abbott has got most of them working for him?’
‘Yeah, the tosser has pretty much bagged the lot.’ He rubbed his temple and started us walking again. ‘I’m going to contact a few agencies tomorrow and give a few guys I worked with down South a call. It’ll cost me more money, but I’ll have to do it.’
I leaned into his side, dropping a kiss to his cheek.
‘I’ll do the agency calls for you, it is my job.’
‘I know, and I should have told you.’
Roman halted and pulled me into his arms.
‘I am trying, baby,’ he said, kissing the end of my nose. ‘In fact, I think I’m getting to be quite a good boyfriend, and boss, with your expert tuition.’
I started to giggle. ‘Hey, a few surprises on my desk every morning doesn’t make you a good boyfriend,’ I joked. ‘It helps, but more foot massages and pandering to my every need are still required, to be honest.’
‘Oh is that right?’ Roman said, kissing my neck. ‘What about the amazing orgasms that you get, don’t they add bonus points?’
I shivered as I thought about them and had to agree they were pretty amazing. I bit on my lip and looked up at Roman through my lashes, hoping that I looked sexy and not like a duck with piles.
‘How about we forget dinner, and you take me home and remind me how amazing they really are? Then you can go and see your friend feeling satisfied.’
‘Fuck,’ Roman muttered as his already burgeoning erection pushed against my stomach.
Then, before we had time to turn on our heels and run, a voice behind me shattered my bliss.
‘Hey, sis, fancy seeing you here.’
I groaned and rested my forehead against Roman’s chest. ‘Please tell me that he isn’t really here, and I’m just imagining it,’ I begged.
‘Hi,’ my brother cried, shoving a hand into the small space between my and Roman’s bodies. ‘Great to see you again, Roman.’
Roman took Dylan’s hand and shook it. ‘You too, Dylan, and in better circumstances.’
‘Yeah. I take it that you haven’t heard from her since your visit?’ Dylan asked, his tone tinged with anger.
I shook my head. ‘Nope. She called Mum and Dad again the other day, but she hasn’t responded to any texts that I’ve sent.’
‘She’s totally selfish,’ Dylan replied. ‘Anyway, where are you two off to?’
‘We’re off for an early dinner,’ Roman said and placed a hand on Dylan’s shoulder. ‘You’re welcome to join us?’
I took a sharp intake of breath and poked Roman in his side.
‘I’m sure Dylan is busy, aren’t you, Dyl?’
‘Me, nah. I’ve got a date later, but I was just going to nip to the chippy and get a cod and chips. You know what it’s like living on your own, you never want to cook, so dinner would be great.’
‘Great,’ I said through gritted teeth.
I loved my brother, I really did, but I’d been serious about skipping dinner and heading back for sex before Roman met his friend.
‘Come on, then,’ Roman said. ‘Let’s eat.’
As Dylan walked off in front of us, I pulled Roman back to my side.
‘I was being serious about skipping dinner,’ I hissed.
‘I know, but we can always skip dessert. Don’t worry, we’ll have time.’
‘He can be as inappropriate as your dad, you know,’ I said grimacing.
Roman shrugged. ‘Okay, so then we’re quits.’
‘Come on, you two, what’s the hold-up?’ Dylan asked, turning back to us.
‘I don’t want you to come with us,’ I replied.
‘Summer,’ Roman said with shock. ‘You can’t say that.’
‘Oh she can, Roman. She loves me really, though.’
Dylan grinned, then crossed his eyes and licked out his tongue at me. He knew me well enough to know that I was being truthful, but we also loved each other enough for him not to care.
‘Dylan,’ I hissed as Roman led the way. ‘Please don’t talk about your sex life. I’d really like to eat my dinner without vomiting.’
‘Oh really,’ he groaned looking disappointed. ‘I was going to tell you all about the date that I had with a girl who owns a grey parrot. You should see what she can do with a crochet hook and a bag of grapes. I came harder than I ever have before, but if you don’t want any tips, then I won’t mention it again.’
I had no idea what such sexual activity entailed, and didn’t think I could stomach finding out. As Dylan jogged after Roman, my heart sank, because I knew my brother, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to help but tell us—in extremely graphic detail.
I’d been right about Dylan, so when Roman took me home, taking advantage of my parents’ being out, it took a little while for us to banish the images and stop feeling defiled and have our own sexual shenanigans. I know I wanted to drop my brain into a vat of bleach. I’d seen Dylan naked—admittedly, the last time had been when he was ten—but disturbing images of him and Suki, the parrot owner, were far worse than those of him nude by a mile.
Despite Dylan’s conversation, we’d had a lovely meal, and Roman was much more relaxed. However, I was still worried that he was concerned about finding some more electricians. So, I sat in my bedroom debating whether to text him again or not.
I say ‘again’ because I’d already texted him once. Just a chatty, ‘Hope you’re having a good night with Marcus’ type of text
, but hadn’t received anything in return. That didn’t worry me too much, but Roman always had his phone with him, and never failed to reply to my messages. Apart from this evening.
‘Sod it,’ I muttered and tapped out a text:
Me: Hey, going to bed now. Hope you enjoyed yourself. Missed you and see you in the morning. ILY xx
After ten minutes of staring at my dormant mobile, I decided to do exactly as I’d said and go to bed. I doubted whether I’d sleep well because now I was feeling a little anxious that he hadn’t replied. A thought that he might be ‘occupied’ with Caroline flitted through my brain, because, after all, they were alone in the house together, but then I realised I was being stupid. Roman loved me, he was an honourable man, and it was more probable that he’d let his battery go dead. With a sigh I turned out my light.
I tossed and turned for a while, until eventually I must have dozed off because, just after one in the morning, my phone rang and woke me: like a real sap I still had it clutched in my hand. When I saw who was calling though I didn’t care how sappy I was.
‘Roman.’
‘Hey,’ he whispered on the other end. ‘Sorry it’s so late, and sorry I’ve woken you. I just needed to hear your voice.’
‘It’s okay.’ My words came out fast and breathy; pure happiness that he’d called sent me into a girly tizzy. ‘I missed you too. Did you have a good time with Marcus?’
‘Yeah, it was okay, good to catch up.’ His voice sounded strained and I could swear I could hear him inhale sharply. ‘Did you just chill out?’
‘Yeah, I did,’ I lied. Roman not texting wasn’t conducive with me chilling out. ‘Was a bit boring, to be honest.’
‘Oh sorry I didn’t answer your text, by the way,’ Roman replied. ‘The bloody thing lost power.’
I’d been right, I could understand that happening: he was always talking on the damn thing or emailing from it.
‘That’s okay.’
‘No, it’s not, Summer. I preached to you about not keeping in contact with me when your car broke down, and then miss your text. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I really am.’ Roman’s voice was pleading.
‘Hey, it’s fine, honestly.’
I heard Roman take a quick breath again.
‘Roman, are you okay?’
‘I’m fine, but, like I said, I’m missing you,’ he replied and then stifled a yawn. ‘Oh God, sorry.’
‘You get off to bed,’ I whispered. He didn’t sound right, and maybe he was simply tired, but worry was gnawing at me. ‘I’ll see you later, we’ve got the whole day together.’
‘What do you want to do?’ Roman asked sounding a little lighter.
It was Saturday and we’d agreed that we’d do something together—well, I’d actually told Roman that he wasn’t working because he needed a break. He’d been stressed out about the business, and working so hard that he was looking exhausted and frazzled, hence I’d put my foot down.
‘How about I come over at about eleven and we decide then.’ I smiled to myself, already having decided what we would be doing before we went anywhere.
‘Okay, sounds like a plan.’ Roman yawned again. ‘See you later, and I love you.’
My heart jumped and my smile got wider.
‘Love you too.’
And with a smile on my face, I finally fell into a deep sleep.
I let myself into Roman’s house, fully expecting to find him in his office tapping away at his laptop, but the house was in silence, apart from a light snoring drifting down the stairs.
Caroline must have taken Maisie out because the usual annoying, jolly singing of some guy dressed as a clown wasn’t blasting from the TV.
I gave a contented sigh, thankful that we had the house to ourselves, and that Roman was getting some much needed rest. I decided to make myself useful and cook him his favourite: bacon and egg sandwiches—if he had anything in his fridge, that was.
I went into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door, surprised to see it was full. At the back, nestled amongst bottles of beer, cooked chicken and the eggs that I needed, was a large dish of lasagne with a note on it: ‘Summer’s favourite’—Twinkle had obviously been cooking and shopping for her son. With a huge smile, I found some bacon and took it and the eggs over to the cooker and placed everything down on the countertop. I then went to the sink to wash my hands and stopped dead in my tracks. There were dried droplets of blood along the draining board to the edge of the sink, and in the sink was a bloodied bandage. With my thumb and forefinger, I picked up the edge of the bandage and held it up, studying it. It wasn’t soaked in blood, but there was a band of crimson about four or five inches in length dotted through the centre. I looked around to see whether there was any more blood anywhere else. I wondered if that was where Caroline was—maybe Maisie had cut herself and she’d taken her to A&E? Surely she’d have woken Roman if that was the case? It may even have been Roman. Whoever it was, there didn’t appear to be enough blood for it to be a serious injury, but I still wanted to check on him. I quickly washed and dried my hands and made my way up the stairs to his room.
His bedroom door was slightly ajar and, apart from a thin sliver of light coming through a gap under the blind, the room was in darkness. I crept inside and the first thing to hit me was the smell: the yeasty aroma of alcohol mixed with the faint smell of sweat. Crinkling my nose, I looked over at Roman’s body in the bed. He was lying on his back, one hand resting on his bare stomach, while the other lay on the pillow above his head. The duvet was twisted between his legs and one of his pillows was lying on the floor.
As his chest rose and fell, matching the rhythm of his snores, I noticed that there was a plaster across the knuckles of the hand on his chest. So, that was where the blood had come from? It was Roman’s blood, but what the hell had he been doing? My eyes then wandered to his bedside cabinet where I noticed a bottle: there was the reason for the smell of alcohol.
I moved over to the window and pulled up the blind before reaching to open the window to let in some fresh air. I was about to close the blind again, so that Roman could continue sleeping, when I heard movement behind me.
‘Summer?’ a croaky voice asked.
Stopping what I was doing, I turned towards the bed to see Roman lifting onto his elbow and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.
‘Hey, sleepyhead, seems like you had quite a night,’ I replied sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.
‘Shit, what time is it?’
Roman flopped back against the pillows with a groan. I brushed my hand through his hair, pushing it away from his sticky forehead. He was hot and clammy and didn’t smell too good.
‘It’s almost eleven-thirty and you stink.’
Roman cursed under his breath and rolled on his side towards me.
‘I’m so sorry, I intended to be up and dressed by the time you got here.’ He reached a finger out to stroke my cheek and sighed. ‘God, I missed you.’
‘Well, it appears that you tried to drown the loneliness with alcohol,’ I said nodding towards the almost empty bottle of what I could now see was whisky. ‘And what did you do to your hand?’
Roman looked first at the bottle and then down at his knuckles and cursed again.
‘I had a little argument with a wall,’ he muttered.
‘Why, what on earth happened?’
‘Me,’ Roman hissed. ‘I stupidly revisited the past and didn’t like the memories.’ His eyes darted towards the open wardrobe door. I saw that the framed photographs of Roman boxing, the ones that I’d found previously, were lying haphazardly on the floor.
‘Roman,’ I said softly. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
‘So I’m told by lots of people, but it doesn’t make the pain any less.’
‘I thought things were getting better in there.’ I tapped gently against his head.
‘They are, but sometimes the blackness still likes to visit.’
He rolled onto his back and put an arm over hi
s eyes before inhaling deeply.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to see me like this.’
He was so deep in his turmoil that I knew words weren’t going to be enough to drag him out it, so I gently took his hand in mine and looked down at the plaster stretched across his knuckles. There were little spots of blood on it, and his hand looked a little swollen.
‘Can you move your fingers?’ I asked.
He flexed his fingers. ‘Yep, nothing broken.’
‘And what about the wall, is that broken?’ I said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.
Roman shook his head. ‘No, stupidly I took on an outside wall.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling, when you called me? I would have come over.’
‘I don’t know, I thought I was coping, and then, after speaking to you, I just started drinking whisky and got buried even deeper.’
‘Did Caroline bandage it for you? You didn’t scare Maisie, did you?’ I asked, concerned.
‘They weren’t here,’ he groaned. ‘Left me a note to say she was having some sort of get-together with old friends and staying over, so her parents were having Maisie for the night.’
I felt a breath of relief that Maisie hadn’t had to witness Roman losing it, but realised he probably would have kept a lid on his emotions had she been around.
‘Did something happen while you were out with Marcus to start you thinking about it?’
Roman chewed on his lip and stared up at the ceiling. ‘No, I’ve no idea what triggered it,’ he said finally. ‘But it ended with too much alcohol.’
We sat quietly for a few minutes, Roman with his eyes closed, and me looking down at him, wondering whether I should say anything else and if so what? Eventually, Roman opened his eyes and gave me a beautiful smile before pulling himself into a sitting position.