by Fox Brison
“She saw me naked-”
“She saw you what?” I gasped feeling a little upset.
“Well,” she qualified, “I felt like I was naked. For the first time ever I think I appreciate what it means to be undressed by someone’s eyes.” She shivered.
“Poor baby,” I crooned and pulled her in for a kiss, the parcel momentarily forgotten.
I also forgot about my tray with the coffee on.
“Oh shit,” I jumped up when I saw the beige liquid leisurely dribbling all over the crisp white bedding. “Devon, oh…” I began quickly lifting trays and moving cups and searching for something to mop up the spill.
Devon just stood there laughing!
“A little bit of assistance wouldn’t go amiss!” I said, hands on hips. Devon’s eyes widened. Oh, right, I was naked.
“Mmm,” she began to circle the bed and I grinned. I was loving this totally unexpected playful side to her. “I think I know just how to help you with your wet patch,”
My phone beeped and she stopped. “Do you need to answer that?”
“I’d better, just in case.” Please not another case of phonus interruptus. I checked my messages. “It’s from Jessie, she’s says her and Ruth are having a whale of a time and can she keep her until Sunday.” I chuckled when I looked at the picture she’d attached of her and Ruth pulling faces covered in chocolate. I showed it to Devon and she laughed too. “Oh… she’s sent over something for me.” I immediately panicked. Jessie was a big lover of using accessories, but that box was big.
“Wonder what she sent?” Devon began to rip the brown paper, slowly, and I dived for it.
“I’llopenit, I’llopenit,” I said in a rush. I turned so she couldn’t see and quickly ripped off the paper. “Oh thank god.”
“Rache?” Devon was, quite naturally, bemused by my behaviour.
“It’s some clothes, she thought I might need clean undies, toiletries, make up. Bloody hell, I think she’s packed my whole bathroom and wardrobe.”
“That’s handy, it’ll save you the walk of shame, hey,” she protested when I hit her arm, but she laughed again and kissed me. “Actually…” she rubbed her toe into the carpet, “how about we put that dress of yours to good use. Rachel McTavers, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Devon Williams, I would love to.” I threw the box of clothing to the side and forgot about the damp spot on the duvet hey what’s one more added to the mix and concentrated on making the woman I loved feel every bit as special as she made me feel.
***
“This is a bit, well, I’m not sure, Devon.” I said nervously. She gripped my hand tighter. “I’m not, you know.” I pulled at my dress to straighten it.
Devon gently tugged me to one side. “Do you eat with your hands?”
“Of course not?”
“Slurp your soup?”
“Devon!” I chuckled.
“Talk with your mouth full? Spit food everywhere? Start a food fight?”
“Okay, okay,” I chuckled again.
“The food in here is exactly the same as the café. There are tables and chairs and low and behold, tablecloths. The same as the café.”
“Not quite,” I argued.
“Yes quite. Things just cost a little more. I’m going to spoil you, Rachel, because if anyone deserves a three course dinner with wine and champagne at a Michelin starred restaurant, it’s you.”
“And you,” I said softly.
“That’s a little more debatable. But you make me want to deserve it, and for tonight, that’s all that matters.”
Chapter 27
Devon
Sunday 18th December, 2016
I was on cloud nine. No wait. By now I was on cloud twenty-nine. Waking up next to Rachel? Amazing. Waking up next to Rachel after a night of, quite frankly, the best sex ever? Golden. I climbed out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and pair of joggers and chuckled, silently, so as not to wake her. It was early, still dark outside, but I thought I’d go for a run before taking Rachel home. I was hoping to persuade her to collect Ruth and we’d go skating at the Tower before maybe having pizza somewhere. Kids liked pizza, right? My mind was turning over possibilities as my feet pounded the pavements. I loved this time of the morning in London, especially along the embankment. It didn’t pass my notice how many people were already on the move, and how many people were huddled together to keep warm. My feet faltered for a moment, before picking up the pace. There were so many to help and I found a new respect for those who gave of their time and efforts to do so.
I think I might just have made my New Year’s resolution two weeks early.
In the past, my morning runs were escapes from the horrendous path my life had taken. I turned and headed home. Now I was actually running back to someone who promised me a life I could live with.
Drinking a huge glass of water, I entered my bedroom and smiled. It was a sight I could get used to but would never take for granted. “Good morning,” I whispered as I kissed Rachel’s neck.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “I could get used to this.”
Great minds. “What’s that?” I kissed her again.
“Waking up next to you.” She blushed then whispered, “Too much too soon?”
“No,” and it wasn’t. I didn’t feel the need to rush around finding her clothes, before hurriedly guiding her to the door. I didn’t feel the need to give half-hearted promises of ‘I’ll call you in the week.’ I didn’t feel the need to go home and worship the bottle any more. “No, it’s perfect, just like you.”
She looked at me and realised I was bathed in sweat. “Have you seriously been to the gym already?”
“Not the gym, I went for a run. I’ll have to keep myself fit now I have a toy girl.” I started removing my damp clothes. “I’m going to jump in the shower.”
“Want some company? Balance out that fancy gas guzzler of yours by conserving water?”
“Do you need to ask?” I reached for her and pulled her out of bed.
An hour later and we were dressed with Rachel smelling like a summer morning. My shower gel never smelt so good. “So,” I began hesitantly, “do you and Ruth have any plans for the rest of the day?”
“Nothing exciting,” she replied, “Ruth will be hyper after being with Jessie for two nights, so a quiet day. I might check out our decorations and then go for a walk in the park.” She noticed my slightly downcast look and smiled. “Fancy chilling with us?”
“I’d like nothing more,” I said happily. It wasn’t the fun filled day of skating and fast food I’d envisaged on my run, it sounded far more perfect.
***
Ruth was talking to her mother about the weekend she’d spent with Jessie and Mrs Jessop was eying me as I stood with my hands behind my back. I was waiting for the inquisition but none came, she simply gave Ruth a peck on the cheek and headed back to her flat.
What a nice woman.
“Hey, Devon,” Ruth was bouncing a little.
“Hey, Ruth,” I replied.
“Mummy says ‘cos you’re tall you don’t need a chair.”
“Alright?” I asked bemusedly.
“To lift the decorations down from the cupboard,” Ruth continued to explain.
“After you, milady,” I bowed and Ruth giggled.
“You’re silly, Devon,” she took my hand and pulled me to Rachel’s bedroom. I felt a little weird going in without her, but Ruth didn’t seem to think it mattered. “There, those three with Xmas decs on. That’s short for Christmas decorations. Mum doesn’t like the word Xmas much,” she confided conspiratorially in me. “Because once at school she was helping with reading practise and Mrs Kirkcaldy asked the class whose birthday it was on December 25th and Peter Davidson said it was Batman’s.” I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the first box on Ruth’s head. It’s a good thing Christmas decorations were so light because I don’t think giving her child concussion would have boded well for our relationship.
I retr
ieved the other three boxes which Ruth and I carted back into the living room. “Thanks,” Rachel handed us both a mug of hot chocolate. “We don’t put them up until the last day of school, but I like to check them out and see if any broke and need replacing.”
“When do you decorate your house?” Ruth asked, spooning some marshmallows into her mouth.
“Well, you see Ruth, with it just being me, I don’t usually bother.” The spoon dropped with a clang.
“Don’t you get a tree?” she stared at me suspiciously, like I was an alien here to conquer Earth and the first thing I was going to do was cancel Christmas. I shrugged my answer. “Do your mum and dad have a tree?”
“Several. She likes to have one in the entrance hall and one in the dining and living rooms.”
“They have three trees?” Ruth was agog. “Mummy-“
“No,” Rachel answered with a laugh.
“But-”
“No,” she reiterated.
“Fine,” she turned back to me. “When you were little did you decorate all three? You must have had a lot of boxes of decorations.”
I was beginning to wish Mrs Jessop was back and asking about my intentions. This kid was a master and wouldn’t have been out of place in 1400s Spain. “My parents hired someone to do it. I’ve never put decorations up. I doubt I’d be any good at it.”
I could see Rachel frowning. “You’ve never decorated for Christmas?”
“Not personally, no.” I shrugged again.
“Well, since we have the boxes out, why don’t you help us? If you want that is. We’ll have to go out and get a tree-”
“Mum likes a real one, it’s still in a proper pot so it can be planted afterwards” Ruth interrupted with an explanation.
“If nothing else, Ms McTavers, you’re going to be a wonder for my carbon footprint.”
***
Several hours later we were finished and all sat in a row staring at the Christmas tree. It was absolutely beautiful. The professional decorators charged a fortune, for what I don’t know, because mine, Rachel’s and Ruth’s looked just as good.
“Baaddgggerrrr,” Rachel said with a warning as the cat eyed it eagerly.
The cat ignored her.
Ruth went over and picked up the bauble from the floor. “We have to check every morning because Badger likes to play with the balls. Sometimes he even sleeps in the branches.” She came and sat back between Rachel and I. “Mummy, are we having fish and chips tonight?”
“Oh blooming Nora,” Rachel said. “What with everything… when we decorate the tree, tradition dictates we have a chippy for tea,” she explained to me.
“Sounds lovely. It can’t remember the last time I had fish and chips, not from a real chippy anyway,” I qualified. “Where’s the nearest one?”
“A five minute walk away, I’ll get my coat.”
“Why don’t I go for them? You can relax for a half hour. Ruth can show me where it is, can’t you, sweetie?”
“Yeah, I can show Devon, Mum.”
“Alright then, I’ll lay the table while you’re gone.”
After supper, Ruth pulled out a battered copy of the Grinch and excitedly put it on. It was another of their traditions, traditions I hoped to become a part of. However, the excitement of the weekend, never mind day, must have been too much for her, and ten minutes later she fell asleep on the sofa. Rachel put her down and then came back though. I was putting on my coat. “Enough domestic bliss for one weekend?” she asked with just the hint of apprehension in her voice.
“One weekend will never be enough,” I whispered and kissed her. “I just thought it’s getting late and you have an early start.”
“Why don’t you stay over?” She looked me square in the face, practically daring me to say no. Or yes.
“What about Ruth?”
“She knows her Mummy likes girls, not boys, and I’m sure she’d love to have breakfast with you in the morning. In fact,” she chuckled, “I think she’d prefer to have breakfast with you in the morning.”
“Breakfast with my two most favourite people in the world?” I kissed her again and we returned to the sofa to stare at the lights and cuddle. “Would be the perfect start to my week.”
***
We’d slept in, not for any other reason than the weekend catching up with us. All Rachel and I had done was sleep, but holding her in my arms all night long was just as amazing as making love to her nonstop for a weekend. Ruth was running around trying to find her shoes and Rachel was busy dressing shouting at her daughter to hurry up.
It was a chaotic medley that I was falling in love with.
I was aware that in a couple of hours retribution from an avenging angel called Celeste might fall on my head, but right now I was as happy as a person could be and damn the consequences. I picked up Ruth’s shoe which had somehow found its way under the bookcase and chuckled.
And then I froze.
Shit.
Double shit with a cherry on top.
“Hey, Rache, who’s this?” I held up the photograph of a man and woman holding a baby. It had been taken in a hospital, the new born with a head of fine blonde hair was wrapped in a pink blanket and held by a woman close enough in looks to be Rachel’s twin.
“Oh it’s finally made its way back out from Ruth’s room? That?” She wrapped her arms around my waist and held on tight. “That’s Lou and Tommy.”
“Tommy? Ruth’s dad?” I hoped Rachel couldn’t hear the fear in my voice, nor feel the trembling in my body.
“Yeah, Tommy Flood.”
And there it was. Confirmation my worst nightmare was about to be realised. Thomas Charles Flood, my cousin and son of Marcus Flood, the chairman of Flood and Williams wasn’t living in Australia with his…
Oh God.
Thomas was dead.
“Are you alright, Devon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Rachel teased. Oh if only she knew. We didn’t. Know I mean. About Thomas’ death. Or his daughter. Damn, why didn’t anyone say? Why didn’t Aunt Sophia and Uncle Marcus want to be involved in Ruth’s life? For a fleeting second I considered they didn’t know until Rachel continued. “The Floods… when I told them about the accident, they honestly couldn’t give a shit. I only wanted an acknowledgement Ruth exists.”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” I murmured. “You said that they cut him off. Would they be the sort you’d want in Ruth’s life?”
“No, and Tommy didn’t either. He reached out when Ruth was born and his parents visited the hospital, but that was it. They walked away.” Rachel was angry but calmed when Ruth came running out of the bathroom with one of her school shoes. I handed her the other one in complete silence. I think I was about to faint; thankfully I didn’t. But what the hell was going on?
Could this get any more fucking complicated?
Chapter 28
Devon
Monday 19th December, 2016
After dropping Ruth and Rachel at school then work, I drove straight to Kensington Palace Gardens shaking my head. This couldn’t be happening, surely to God this couldn’t be true. My uncle didn’t arrive at the office until at least eleven on a Monday, so I knew he’d be at home. The last thing I wanted was to go to the corporate headquarters and discuss this issue with him there. I pulled up to the large gates of his home and pressed the intercom buzzer.
“Yes,” Arthur their loyal retainer answered.
“Devon Williams to see Marcus Flood.” There was a slight pause before the gates swung open, agonisingly slowly to my mind. When I reached the front door, my aunt was there waiting.
“Devon, this is unexpected. You know your uncle does not like unannounced visitors. Perhaps you could return after making an appointment.”
“I need to speak to both of you, it’s important.” I entered the house and waited for her in the entrance hall.
“Devon, what’s going on?” She closed the front door and stood in front of me.
“Please, Aunt Sophia, it would be
easier if you were both together.” Being stalled was doing nothing for my mood and I spoke more tersely than I wanted. I couldn’t put her back up before I had my questions answered.
“He’s in his study.” I pushed past her and went directly there.
“This better be important,” Uncle Marcus didn’t look up from the papers he was studying, “you know I don’t take kindly to uninvited guests, especially ones who have betrayed their family.” He was sitting behind his enormous Chippendale desk, a family heirloom. Everything in the Flood and William’s clan had to be bigger and better than everyone else’s.
Maybe he’s overcompensating for something, I thought. “It’s not important,” you sanctimonious little prick, “it’s life changing. Thomas isn’t in Australia, he’s dead.”
Neither said a word nor uttered a gasp in horror, they just looked at each other in that way that said, ‘how do we get rid of this nuisance,’ which was the first puzzle. The second was that neither asked any questions. “And he has a daughter, Ruth. She’s being raised in Seven Sisters by her aunt.” Again total silence met my statement, but it wasn’t shocked silence it was knowing silence.
Shit.
Holy shit, what had I done?
Rachel told me they already knew, and their reaction confirmed it. Why had I acted so impulsively?
Bastards.
“Aren’t you going to ask how she is? Don’t you want to know about Thomas?” I realised the mistake my anger, shock and absolute bewilderment had wrought immediately, but I still failed to grasp how anyone could be so goddamned heartless.
Yeah, right. This is my family, I should have known better.
“You’ve met her?” Uncle Marcus asked.
“Yes I’ve met her. She’s wonderfully intelligent and loving. A credit to Thomas.”
By this point I was angrier with myself for being so completely and utterly stupid than with them, but I couldn’t exactly shout at myself. Or rather I could, but I’d be taken away by men in white coats. My rage didn’t last long, and was quickly replaced with resignation. “She’s your granddaughter for goodness sakes, she’s all you have left of Thomas!” I cried plaintively.