The Choices We Made

by Lexie James

  Her voice was so forlorn that Patrick felt her pain, followed, almost immediately by a hot spurt of anger that coursed through his veins, like he had never felt before. He had spent the whole day trying to ensure they spent time together, in the hope it might rekindle their love.

  But if he had known about this, then he would have run him of his property.

  He took a deep breath, attempting to master the urge to pulverise Christos, and tried, instead, to rationalise the behaviour he had watched between the two of them over the course of the day.

  He asked her carefully. “How do you feel about him now?”

  She sighed morosely, “I don’t know. I hate him for what he did that day. Then I remember everything about him that I ever loved. I look at my children and I see him in the way they behave, in their looks, their mannerisms, even in some of the things they say. And I miss him so very much, it makes my insides hurt. When he came storming in last night and said all those horrible things to me, I hated him with a vengeance, and I was sure he hated me to. Now he’s spent the whole day trying to do things to help us. I’m so mixed up I don’t know what I want or think anymore. Do you know, last night he tore into me because he assumed I had had other lovers. Can you believe that? I mean it never even occurred to him that they were his children, and Michael looks so like him. How can he be so blind and so stupid and yet succeed in running a big, successful business?”

  Dejection was apparent in every word she spoke.

  For some reason, that he couldn’t fathom, Patrick found himself, springing to Christos’s defence. “Emme, you must realise that the ability to run a business successfully, does not necessarily mean that that person, and in this case I mean him in particular, has actually got any common sense. Now, what you decide to do next is going to not only affect your life, but also the lives of other people, people whom you hold close to your heart. You owe it to your children, and yourself, to have a good long talk with that young man. No shouting, no recriminations, you need to listen to each other, because I believe you are both still hurting from what happened.”

  Turning in his arms, she pleaded with him. “But what do you think I should do? Dad please will you help me, because I don’t know what to do, what to say to him, and he is just the most stupidest man I have ever had the misfortune to know.”

  Regretfully he replied. “I can’t help you, my darling girl, not this time. This has to be your battle, your decision. Come on, you need a good night’s sleep and then you will be better able to face this out, in the morning.”

  Going into the sitting room he returned with a brandy and insisted she drank it.

  “Now into bed with you.”

  He tucked her in, just as he used to do when she was a child.

  Shutting her bedroom door, he stood outside it, considering all that she had told him. A gun or a bottle of whisky, now which shall I go for? He weighed up the situation, considered his two solutions to the problem and began to leave their flat to have a word with the young man; only to be greeted by Sophia escorting in his two sleepy grandchildren.

  Wordlessly they kissed him goodnight and dragged themselves of to bed.

  He turned to Sophia. “Where is he?”

  Sorrowfully she answered him. “When he saw she wasn’t there, after the fireworks, he dragged himself inside, much like they’ve just done.”

  “Thank you.” He replied. “Then I know where to find him, and he can’t escape me.”

  Sophia started to speak but he interrupted her. “Don’t! Don’t say a word, go away, or stay here, just don’t speak to me. Not at the moment, maybe later, but not now.”

  He glared at her then spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving her in a state of turmoil and worry.

  Grimly he went down to the bar, where he picked up a bottle of whisky, found two large glasses and in a determined manner climbed the stairs to Christos’s room. I’ve been in this situation before he thought bitterly; last time I was sure I was doing the right thing, now I’m not so sure.

  “Come in.” A despondent voice told him, as he knocked loudly.

  Patrick walked in, just as he had found Emme, he found Christos sitting staring out of the window, into the dark space. Silently he poured them both a glassful of whisky.

  Standing before him, he held it out to Christos, but before he released it he spoke to him curtly.

  “Emme has just told me her version of what happened at college. I am hoping against hope, that you can add something to that story that is going to stop me wanting to beat the living daylights out of you.”

  Christos paused in the action of accepting the drink, searched his face and saw an anger that he had not seen all day.

  “What did she tell you happened?”

  Gritting his teeth against saying the words that broke his heart because of the pain they had caused his daughter, Patrick told him.

  “She told me that a crowd of your mates had bet that you would sleep with her, and that you won money for doing just that. Have you got no shame? What were you thinking of? I need you to tell me the truth, because I need to know that the creation of my grandchildren was more than just the result of an attempt to win a bet. “

  Christos’s face drained of any colour and in a shell-shocked voice he began to stutter.

  “It wasn’t like that, Patrick, you have to believe me, it was their idea not mine, by the time that night arrived I had forgotten all about their stupid bets. I spent three years of my life loving her to distraction, and not knowing what to do to get her to love me, then the night of the ball she walked in and wanted to be with me. How can I explain what that meant to me? I don’t know, it was just so right, like my life was whole at last. Then when I realised she was still a virgin, I mean I wasn’t really expecting it.”

  He paused at Patrick’s sharp intake of breath.

  “I’m sorry but in this day and age, it was a shock, when I woke up the next morning and looked at her sleeping so peacefully, she was so beautiful. I was so ashamed of what had happened, ecstatic, but ashamed. I left her a note, said I’d gone to get us both breakfast. In reality I was trying to give myself some distance to work out how to tell her I loved her and wanted to marry her. I was just going back to her when my mates found me and started congratulating me for winning their bets for them. Honestly I’d forgotten all about the bets, and I was feeling guilty enough as it was, without everything else they were saying. When she came in I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t even look at her. She looked at me and I’ll never forget the pain I saw on her face, then she ran away. I threw their money in their faces and dashed after her, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I tried, tried so hard, I spoke to her friends, but they wouldn’t have helped me to crash my car, they were obviously so disgusted with me. I sent her a message via the college office that I had some of her books, I thought that might at least generate me a phone call, I went through so many phone books but I only knew her surname. Do you know, in those three years I’d never even asked her where she lived, what does that say about me? For all that I tried to find her; it was as if she had never existed, as if she had disappeared of the face of the earth. I’ve spent years praying one day, I’d find her and tell her the truth, tell her she’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “Why were you so angry then, when you finally found her? I saw your face; you looked as if you wanted to kill her.” Patrick demanded.

  Christos answered painfully. “When I saw her walk into that room, it was if all those empty years disappeared in an instant, I was back again to that moment in time when I first saw her and knew how wonderful my life was going to be with her. I watched her walking across the room, and I was steeling myself for the moment when she was close enough and I could sweep her into my arms, where she belonged, and try and make up for all that lost time. I watched as Chrissie went over to her, and it hit me like a thunderbolt, why Chrissie was so familiar, why she reminded me so strongly of her. It was because she was her daug
hter. In that instant, all my dreams shattered into a million pieces, all I felt was anger at her betrayal, that she had left me and gone to another man and had his children. Never in a million years did it occur to me that they were my children.”

  Christos kept rolling the glass between his hands, staring blankly at the amber liquor as it swirled around.

  Patrick looked at him dumbfounded. “I thought you were angry because she had the children, and had kept that knowledge from you. It never occurred to me, that you hadn’t realised they were yours. When did you find out?”

  Christos’s eyes swung round to stare at Patrick, self-disgust evident in his voice as he replied. “This morning, Sophia told us a tale about the morning after the college ball, I knew then. As I was listening, I kept on asking myself why she hadn’t made any attempt to find me, after all she knew my surname, it’s reasonably well known. Then I remembered something we had discussed years ago.”

  “And what was that?” Patrick queried.

  “I’d taken her to see a Greek tragedy, Medea, afterwards we were discussing what Medea had done. Well actually we were arguing, not much change there. Arguing seems to be an essential part of our relationship.”

  He paused for a moment, a ghost of a smile played across his face.

  “I couldn’t understand how Medea could have hated Jason so much, that she could find it in herself to kill their children; after all, she was their mother. Emme said she could understand her anger and despair, but she wouldn’t have killed the children. She would have taken them away so that he would never have seen them again. She told me then that love couldn’t survive when it had been betrayed. Emme thinks I betrayed her, doesn’t she?”

  Christos’s voice shattered as he finished speaking.

  Patrick pondered in silence for a while. “Well to tell you the truth, I’m really not sure what she thought because she never told any of us what had happened. I believe though, that you broke her heart then, and then all over last night, when you accused her of having someone else’s children. So now, what do you intend to do to resolve this situation?”

  “I don’t know! What can I do? Where am I meant to start? I’ve done so many things wrong, and I haven’t got the foggiest idea how to start repairing the damage that I’ve done to us.”

  Patrick’s stern voice interrupted him. “Well I suggest you stop feeling sorry for yourself and start deciding what you really, truly want. So tell me, what is it that you want? Do you love my daughter? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her and your children?”

  Christos glared at him resentfully. “Of course I do! But I can’t see how wanting that is going to help me accomplish it, or that’s she ever going to believe anything I say to her. That is, if I can even get her to stand still long enough to let me try and apologise for all the wrong things I’ve done to her. You saw what she was like today, as soon as I got anywhere near her, she scurried away and spent the rest of the time shooting daggers at me, metaphorically speaking. Now you tell me, if I finally get her to listen to what I want to say, what on earth can I then tell the children? How can I explain it all to them and how will they react when they realise that I am their father? I presume she told them what happened.”

  “Well, if you believe that she would tell them that tale, then I’m really not sure that you deserve her.” Patrick angrily told him. “She told them that you both realised you didn’t love each other enough to stay together, so you went away.”

  He paused and thought for a moment. “Actually, even that story is going to alienate them from you. Right we’ve both realised what a difficult job you have ahead of you, however it is one that I expect you to sort out, or I will haunt you to your grave. And let me tell you, the way I’m feeling at the moment, you may very well see your grave very soon. You’re meant to be a clever man, so I expect you to sort it out!”

  So saying, he walked over to the bottle of whisky, picking it up he looked at Christos with steely determination etched in every line of his face.

  “I’ll be taking this with me; you have a lot to sort out tomorrow. You’ll need to be keeping yourself a clear head to allow those little grey cells to work out how you are going to find a solution to this problem.”

  Christos watched him start to walk out of the room. “Patrick, I don’t suppose you’ve got any advice that you would be willing to offer to me?”

  Patrick raised his eyes despairingly to the ceiling.

  What was it with these two that they both thought he’d hand out advice to them? Must be my air of understanding and maturity he eventually decided.

  “I’ll tell you exactly the same as I told my daughter, though I won’t be as polite. Your bloody problem, you bloody sort it out, soon!”

  CHAPTER TWENTYONE

  Christos stared unseeing out of the window.

  The sun had risen a few hours ago but the morning was still early and there was a peace and calm hanging in the air even if it didn’t manage to seep into his soul.

  He hardly remembered the end of the evening, one moment he was sitting alone in his room and the next moment Patrick was there, plying him with whisky, demanding explanations. They had talked and talked until Patrick had finally left. He didn’t believe he had slept more than five minutes since then.

  Every time he tried to close his eyes, more memories of Emme jostled through his thoughts. The way she twirled her hair when she was concentrating, her smile when she was laughing with him, the softness of her hair, the touch of her hand.

  Hundreds of memories that had woven themselves deep into his being, and had insidiously slipped out from the box in which he had buried them. Entwined with his soul, they had captured his thoughts and sleep had been impossible.

  Gradually he became aware of movement in the shadows outside of the window. Squinting, he recognised Michael and Chrissie; they were furtively creeping along hugging the line of the trees and they were carrying a rope. Something about the fact that they were trying to stay hidden, made him feel uneasy, he watched them intently for a moment.

  They were up to mischief; he knew it, he could feel it in his bones, remembering the times when he and Mikolas had crept around in just the self-same way.

  The sight of the rope brought back unwanted memories and his heart began to beat faster as he fought to control the feeling of sickness surged through his stomach, as he recalled the last time Mikolas and he had been together. Even though he was sure he was being ridiculous, he pulled on his clothes and ran down the stairs two at a time. By the time he had emerged from the house the children had disappeared into the woods; he broke into a run, heading towards the place where he had last seen them.

  Even though he couldn’t see them, he could hear them laughing and chattering, and he followed their voices. Feeling suddenly rather foolish at his actions, he slowed down and concentrated instead on their conversation.

  He could hear Michael wheedling. “Go on Chrissie you climb up and tie the rope, I’m heavier than you are, so it’s better if I test it before we use it.”

  Chrissie answered him with a laugh. “You’re only saying that because I’m a better climber than you are.”

  Concerned Christos’s hurried forward but just as he reached the edge of the clearing he heard an ominous crack that was, almost immediately, followed by Chrissie’s rather nervous voice.

  “Michael the branch...”

  Whatever else she was about to say was drowned out by Michael’s anguished cry as he rushed forward, closely followed by Christos. A second crack followed on from the first and, as he watched in slow motion, the branch slowly disengaged itself from the tree, and both it and Chrissie began to plummet to the ground.

  Michael rushed under the tree, trying to break his sister’s fall before Christos could reach him. His actions seemed to slow the branch’s descent to the solid ground, far beneath it. Frantically, Michael went to grab his sister from the tumble of the branch.

  “Don’t!” Christos’s voice shouted out in fear.
“Don’t touch her!”

  In two strides he was beside Chrissie, gently lifting the branch from her as his eyes raked the child lying, unmoving on the ground in front of him. His heart was in his mouth, as memories of his brother’s death crowded in around him. He reached out and gently brushed her hair away from her face. She groaned and tried to move, and he began to breathe again.

  “Lie still.” He told her huskily, as he thanked the heavens that she was moving and trying to speak. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

  “Everywhere, it hurts everywhere.” She moaned and opened her eyes, then stared at him in confusion. “Where’s Michael?”

  Michael peered over Christos’s shoulder. “Chrissie, I’m here, I’m so sorry; it’s my fault you fell. I should have climbed up the tree, not you, Chrissie can you hear me?” She had closed her eyes again and he was obviously scared.

  She opened her eyes slightly, grimacing in pain. “I can hear you, you wally, stop shouting at me. My head hurts.” Tears welled up into her eyes and she began to sob in earnest. “I want Mum.”

  Christos looked up at Michael.

  “Run and tell your mother what has happened. Tell her we need an ambulance but she’s not to worry too much, it’s just a precaution.”

  “I won’t go! She’s my sister, not yours. You go and get Mum.” Michael replied belligerently.

  Fighting to remain calm Christos replied insistently. “No, you go because you will find your mother quicker than I can. This is your home and you will know where to look, I don’t. Now off you go, I am perfectly capable of looking after your sister for a few moments. Here give me your sweatshirt before you go.”

  Turning from Michael, Christos stripped of his own jumper and laid it over Chrissie then using Michael’s sweatshirt as a pillow he settled beside her and held her hand. He was determined to keep her talking, so that he could take her mind of the pain that she had to be feeling.