CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1)

by Delaney, Clair

  A strange, horrible, aching feeling fills my stomach – What is that? I look down at the floor trying to work it out. Why do I feel like this? Why do I feel so void of all things, even myself? You know why....My knees buckle and I fall to the floor, one hand gripping my stomach, the other my chest where my heart is, trying to stop nauseous feeling that is washing over me, wave after wave.

  I stare back at the door, and I know in that instant all I want is Tristan back in my arms, holding me close, protecting me, loving me – Tristan!...

  SOMETHING STRANGE IS HAPPENING TO ME. I have spent the last hour staring blankly at the wall. The only thing that has pulled me out of it is my mobile buzzing in my handbag next to me. I wonder if it’s Tristan calling me? The moment I think that, my heart slams against my chest and triples its beats. My stomach fills with butterflies, and I feel an odd ache somewhere between my heart and my abdomen. I place my hand against my chest and try to calm my racing heart. Then I reach over and pull my mobile out of my bag. Crap! It’s not Tristan, it’s not anybody, it’s my reminder for my appointment with George tonight. I groan inwardly.

  I have two hours to go until I see him, and for some reason I can't quiet fathom, I decide I have to see Gladys before I see the good doctor. I want to know what Joyce has said to her. Maybe I can find out what she’s told Tristan about me? Plus, I want to know if Joyce will be back in tomorrow, and if she’s ok. And I think, just maybe, I might ask her opinion on what I should do about Tristan, see him or not see him? I keep thinking it’s just the fact that he’s going to be my boss that’s holding me back, but in truth, I know it’s not – that’s not what’s really stopping me.

  I jump up from the sofa and scramble as quickly as I can up the stairs, removing my clothes as I go. Pulling on my robe, I run back down the stairs, go straight into the bathroom and turn on the shower – Five minutes later I’m done.

  With my skin creamed, I wrap my robe around me and run back up the stairs to dress. I pull on my grey combats, my white support vest and my flip-flops. As I’m dashing about I catch myself in the mirror, and for a fleeting moment I don’t recognise the woman staring back at me, she looks...happy?

  I shake my head, turn away from the mirror and dash back down the stairs. Grabbing my bag and my keys, I stop for a moment wondering if I should leave the air conditioner on. I decide not to, I can always cool it back down when I return.

  Wondering over to it, I press the off button. That was such a sweet thing for Tristan to have done. Tracing my fingertips across the machine, I see Tristan standing before it, I see his hypnotic eyes gazing back at me, his beautiful smile. And for a moment, I’m mesmerised again...I have to shake my head to snap myself out of it!

  Pulling the patio door shut behind me and locking it, I make my way up to the gym. I’m hoping that there will be a few taxis waiting; otherwise I won’t make it from Gladys to George’s in time.

  Good fortune seems to be on my side. As I reach the car park, I see there’s a taxi waiting, and he’s free. As I scramble inside, I have a flashback from the previous night’s escapades – Rob and I drunkenly trying to remember the words to the song Tequila that was done in the nineties (I think the group was Terrorvision) while we waited for Carlos to come and collect us.

  I can't help chuckling, feeling my mood lighten a little. Spending time with Rob will do that to a person, he’s so much fun.

  “Where to love?” I hadn’t even noticed the taxi wasn’t moving.

  “Oh...um 78 waldegrave road please.” I smile sweetly at the driver who is eyeing me speculatively. I suppose most people don’t get into a taxi and stare blankly ahead.

  As we pull out into traffic, I’m drawn to the music playing. James Morrison is crooning away singing You Give Me Something, the words matching my feelings for Tristan, literally line for line.

  I shake my head and bite my lip, how ironic. It really seems so poignant that it’s playing right now, I almost laugh out loud at the perfect timing of it all.

  Maybe the universe is playing a joke on me? I frown at that thought. What if Tristan isn’t real? What if none of this is and I’m dreaming it all? I pull my right hand up to my left arm and pinch myself. Yep, definitely felt that! Then Tristan must be real…My lips curl up into a smile and it doesn’t leave me the whole way there...

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  TEN MINUTES LATER, I am walking up the front steps of the three bedroom Victorian house that I grew up in. Gladys bought this house with her husband forty years ago, before Brighton really became what it is now. Gladys and her husband had only been living in it for five years when she came home and found a letter telling her that he’d fallen for his secretary, and had already left her.

  With no job and no money to support herself Gladys went a little crazy for a while, until Joyce suggested renting the spare bedrooms out. So she did, it helped pay the bills and she made some really good friends, but she dreamed of having a family of her own. So Joyce was the one that suggested adoption, and went with Gladys to get her signed up. Two years later she had Debbie, then ten years later, she got me – poor woman!

  I put my key into the lock and turn it. Stepping through the front door I immediately know something is different, I can smell spicy food. Gladys doesn’t eat anything spicy, as far as she’s concerned a Chicken Korma is hot and foreign, she really has no idea at all.

  I can also hear some strange guitar music playing, it sounds like what you would hear the street buskers playing if you were in Spain, and it’s loud, really loud - I hesitantly pull my key out the door and shout hello, to which there is no reply.

  I close the door behind me and make my way down the long hallway past the living room, the dining room, and stop when I reach the swinging door that leads into the kitchen. I put my ear to the door, trying to see if I can hear anything unusual and when I don’t I push the door and it swings open, and what I see before me is enough to make anyone’s toes curl.

  Gladys is sitting on the kitchen table half naked, her silk dressing gown is falling down her back, a man’s head is nuzzled between her breasts licking what I think is squirty cream off her, and she is moaning and giggling loudly...What the...?

  “Oh my god!” I gasp in shock and spin around so I can't see anymore. I have absolutely no idea where to put myself.

  “Coral!” Gladys screams. I hear them both burst into fits of giggles. I want to run away, but my feet seem frozen to the floor. In the next second the Spanish music is switched off and there’s lots of banging and cluttering going on with lots of muffled sniggering. Jesus Christ if I’d have known I never would have used my key!

  “Coral,” Gladys sniggers. “What are you doing here?” she asks breathlessly, still chortling.

  I slowly turn to her, peeking with my one eye first to make sure she is covered up and thankfully she is, so I turn and face her. The man who was in the kitchen with her seems to have disappeared.

  Picking up my handbag that I dropped to the floor in shock, I glumly answer her back. “I thought I would come by and see you, ask how Joyce was.” I say not knowing where to look.

  I can't quite believe I have just caught Gladys in a passionate clinch, with a man I didn’t even know she was seeing! In-fact I don’t even know if she is seeing him, or if he’s just a bit of fun? I scratch that thought away immediately. I don’t even want to go there.

  “You look shocked.” She chuckles then hiccups. I think she’s a little drunk? Her cheeks are bright red from all the extracurricular activities and she’s swaying slightly. As I take a closer look at her, I see her eyes are all red and bloodshot.

  I narrow my eyes at her, then I notice it, a strange smell, not spices but something else, something herby...then I clock it – A half smoked joint is lying in a saucer on the draining board! – You have got to be kidding me!

  “Come meet Malcolm.” She says all buzzy and lightheaded, still giggling. As I look back at her all I can see is the image I just walked in on – Oh God I wish I hadn’t come! I�
�ll never get that image out of my mind!

  “Um...no thanks, I think I’ll take a rain check.” I say humourlessly.

  “I’m sorry darling I didn’t know’ – I put my hand up to stop her.

  “Don’t apologise for...” I stop not wanting to say the word. “This is your house Gladys you should do what you want...” I stop again feeling myself cringe, I can see Gladys is finding the whole situation amusing, and is trying her best not to laugh.

  After a few seconds, I finally see the funny side of it and start chuckling too, but then I think it may have something to do with the weed that’s floating around the kitchen, giving me a hit.

  Gladys totally looses it and almost falls over she’s laughing so hard. “Oh your face....” She roars, laughing even harder.

  I instantly lose my sense of humour. “Glad your finding this all so amusing.” I bite. I almost go to bollock her about smoking weed, especially with all the grief she gave me about not taking drugs when I was a teenager. But then I think, what harm can a little joint do every now and then? She looks like she’s having a whale of a time. I sigh heavily and walk over to her, giving her a big hug and a kiss.

  She finally composes herself enough to talk to me. “Please, come and meet Malcolm.”

  I shake my head. She knows how I am about meeting new people – especially men. “Another time,” I offer, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

  “He’s important to me.” She says all traces of humour gone. And I know I can't let her down if that’s the case, and if he is, I have to ask why she hasn’t told me about him? She knows I hate secrets; it destroys trust and wreaks havoc in relationships.

  I follow Gladys through the conservatory and out into the patio garden area, where I immediately spy a tall white haired male. He’s got to be at least 6ft 2ins and is only wearing a pair of what I think is boxer shorts and has the body of a fit forty year old, with a small amount of love handles around his waist.

  “Malcolm this is Coral, Coral meet Malcolm.” I take his outstretched hand and shake it quickly. I’m not sure who’s more embarrassed him or me.

  As I take in his features, I immediately see my guesstimate was wrong. This guy has got to be in his sixties maybe seventies, judging by the amount of wrinkles on his face. Looking closer I see he has kind blue eyes with lots of laughter lines around them, his face is long and weather worn, his nose long, his lips thin and when he smiles he shows a pair of dazzling whities.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Coral, I’ve heard so much about you,” he says in a slight South London twang. I immediately tense up. What has Gladys told him? “Although I have to say,” he chuckles. “It would have been nicer to meet under different circumstances,” he adds laughing some more. I look away still too shocked to say anything. I have never, ever seen a man in this house. “Drink darling?” Gladys asks.

  “No thanks I’m good.” I state a little bitterly.

  Malcolm looks from me to Gladys who nods at him. “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” he says, discreetly taking himself back inside.

  I turn and stare at Gladys in shock. “Gladys, who the hell is that?” I hiss, keeping my voice low.

  “He’s Malcolm...” she shrugs.

  “Gladys!” I scold.

  “He’s from the golf club,” she says artlessly.

  “The golf club?” I repeat in shock.

  “Yes.” She sniggers. Why is it that I’m feeling like the adult and Gladys is the child?

  I sigh heavily. “So…you’re seeing this guy?” I ask.

  Gladys nods once. “I’m sorry darling, I should have told you about him, but I didn’t want to until I really knew myself...” Gladys drifts off and stares and the potted plants with a dreamy look spread across her face.

  “He’s important to you?” I repeat her words back to her.

  “Yes sweetheart he really is. I never thought anything like this would happen to me, well not at my age anyway.” She says and I notice she’s holding her hands behind her back.

  “What would happen to you?” I question cocking my head to the side, feeling my world fall away from under my feet.

  “Well...he’s...Malcolm’s just proposed!” She squeals, shoving her left hand underneath my nose so I can see the huge diamond ring on her finger. Jesus age Christ, this guy must be minted!

  “Oh my god!” I gasp, taking her hand and inspecting the ring.

  “Don’t say anything yet darling, we want to announce it after Lily’s party and have a little get together to celebrate.” I look up at her in wonder. How the hell can this be? How is it I don’t know any of this?

  “I...I don’t know what to say.” I whisper.

  “Be happy for me darling.” Gladys says taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.

  “I am...of course I am. I’m just shocked...I wish you would have told me you were seeing him, that you were happy with him. At least I would have been warned – and I wouldn’t have walked in on you today.” I add, still feeling sour.

  “I know I’m sorry about that. I don’t know who’s more embarrassed you or Malcolm?”

  “Oh I think it’s me.” I answer dryly.

  “He likes you.” Gladys says, staring at the patio door where she last saw him – she’s acting like a love struck teenager.

  “So you’re in love?” I say in disbelief.

  “Yes!” She beams. “I know this is a shock Coral, but it is for me too. I never expected anything like this to happen to me.” I nod silently listening to her words. This is going to change everything. And although I am truly happy for Gladys, I always kind of expected her to be on her own, always available to me. I know deep down that sounds selfish, but she’s my rock, my shoulder to lean on when it all gets a bit much, and if this new man is always going to be here, then I won’t have that anymore...

  “Coral,” Gladys whispers and lifts my chin so I have to look at her. “Tell me what you’re thinking darling.” I shake my head, unable, yet again, to get out what I really want to say. “You’re unhappy about this?” She questions forlornly. “You don't want me to see him?”

  “No Gladys, no that’s not it.”

  “Then what darling, you can tell me.”

  I sigh inwardly. “It’s just...you’ve always been here whenever I needed you and’ – “That won’t change,” she interrupts, her voice firm. “Malcolm knows how important you and Debbie are to me, I’ll never turn you away Coral.”

  “It won’t be the same.” I whisper.

  “I know,” she agrees. “But if I told you I’ve been lonely for a long time and I am happier with Malcolm, would it make you look at things differently?”

  “You’re lonely?” I gasp.

  “Yes I was.” She says, her eyes glistening over.

  “Gladys, why didn’t you tell me?” I ask feeling concerned. How long has she felt like this?

  “What’s the point in that darling? You can’t magic a partner out of thin air for me; the only one that could do anything about it was me.” I continue to listen in a daze as Gladys tells me all about Joyce helping her join a dating agency, the awful dates she has had. Making some friends out of the dates that went ok, but there was no spark, to finally ditching the dating agency and joining the golf club. So that’s why she did that, not to get fit, to find a man?

  I chuckle slightly and shake my head. I must admit, it’s brave for her to do that – especially for a woman in her sixties. She continues telling me all about Malcolm, apparently he’s a property developer and a successful one too (that explains the rock on her finger) and is divorced with two grown girls, who are twins. And I know from what Gladys is telling me he seems really nice, but a deep dark part of me is already worrying.

  What if he turns out to be a bastard and treats Gladys badly? What if he leaves her or breaks her heart? What if he seems like he’s really nice and turns out to be evil just like – No, don't think that, don't go there. Either way, I don’t think I would be able to keep my hands off him if he hurt her,
in anyway – So I decide to question it all.

  “How long have you known him?” I ask feeling like the parent.

  “A year.” She tells me.

  “Really, that long?” I squeak.

  “Oh, we were just friends at first,” she clarifies. “Malcolm was very hurt when his wife left him, she told him she was in love with another man, and had been for the past ten years and the only reason she stayed was the twins. It devastated him, and he lost all trust in women, he’s been on his own for twelve years now. And as for me...well it almost crushed me when my husband left, he was the apple of my eye. I believed he was the only one for me, and I spent many years waiting for him to come back through the door...of course he never did,” she smiles hiding the pain in her eyes. “So when we met and told each other our stories, we decided to take it slow, start as friends. We both knew there was a deep attraction there, and that sometimes it just takes a little longer for trust to build. Shortly after six months we went away for the weekend’ – “I remember that,” I gasp interrupting her. Gladys lied to me? “You told me you were going away with Joyce and John for the weekend.” I say. I remember Joyce talking to me about it the following Monday, making it up as she went along no doubt!

  “Joyce did go away with John,” she clarifies, reading my mind. “And she hated lying to you, but she was doing my bidding. I didn’t want you getting upset about what was beginning to feel like such a big change, if it wasn’t going to work out.”

  “But it has.” I grumble moodily.

  “Yes,” Gladys beams. I can see how happy she really is.

  “But a year isn’t that long to know somebody,” I tell her. “What if her turns out to be an ogre and is horrible to you? Or hurts you, or breaks your heart? What then?” Gladys chuckles slightly.

  “Oh darling, it shows how much you care about me to be thinking the worst already. But try to put your mind at rest. Do you really think I’m the type of woman who would allow a man to treat me badly? I would not stand for any kind of abuse; mental, emotional or physical. He’d have his bags packed and out the door before you could say, how long does it take to pickle onions.” Huh? I have no idea how long it takes to pickle onions. “Besides,” she continues. “I knew the moment our eyes met and so did he.” Shit that sounds like me and Tristan.