Trust No One

by Lizzy Grey

  “I didn’t mean to be…” she began.

  “I know,” he replied, squeezing her hand. “So let’s enjoy ourselves, yes?”

  After a second double whisky, she could feel herself getting light-headed. It felt pleasant but it was time to go home.

  “Stephen, we should go. It’s getting late.”

  Looking at his watch, he shrugged. “It’s not that late.”

  “I know, but your father needs to get home.”

  Michael Connor smiled at them in the hall as they let themselves into the apartment as quietly as they could so they wouldn’t wake Tommy. “You’re back earlier than I expected.”

  “Is everything okay?” she asked anxiously, wondering why he was standing in the hall.

  “Everything’s fine,” he assured her. “I was just checking on Tommy and he’s grand.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Stephen shrugged off his jacket and hung it up. “I’ll ring for a cab for you.”

  “No, I’ll ring for a cab for me. If they heard your voice, they probably wouldn’t come.”

  “Why not?” Stephen frowned.

  “How many whiskies did you have?” his father asked.

  “I’m not drunk, Dad.”

  “I believe you, son.” Michael Connor gave him a broad wink before going into the living area.

  “Am I drunk, Becca?” Stephen demanded as his father’s voice could be heard ordering a cab.

  “A little bit.”

  “Oh, God.” He groaned, helping her off with her jacket and hanging it up. “I thought I could hold my drink. I’m getting old.”

  “Want me to make some coffee?” she offered.

  “No, thanks, because if this is drunk, then I quite like it.”

  “Fair enough.” She followed him into the living area.

  “Five minutes,” Michael Connor told them before adding. “My cab. It will be here in about five minutes.”

  “Oh right.” Bloody hell, was she more drunk than she realized, too?

  “You had a good time, then?” He smiled.

  “Yes, we did, thanks. I ate my own bodyweight in spaghetti carbonara.”

  “I quite like spaghetti, too, but Mary won’t touch foreign food.” He exhaled a little sigh before turning to Stephen. “Someone rang while you were out and left a message for you. Couldn’t make head nor tail of it myself so I hope you can.”

  “Okay, thanks, Dad.”

  “Becca? I know Stephen hasn’t had much to do yet in bringing Tommy up, but I want you to know that he’s the grandest little lad and I’m so proud to be his grandad.”

  Tears of gratitude stung her eyes. “Thank you, Mr Connor…Michael.”

  “I’ll show the test result to Mary,” he told her. “And we will see you all soon, I promise,” he added firmly.

  “Thank you,” she croaked as the intercom buzzed.

  “That must be my cab.” Michael Connor headed for the hall. “And if you need someone to mind Tommy again, just ask.”

  “Thanks, Michael. Goodnight.”

  “I’ll see you to the cab, Dad,” Stephen followed him out of the living area and she heard the front door open and close.

  Going to Tommy’s room, she went in without turning the light on. He was fast asleep, clutching Bear, and she bent and kissed his forehead before returning to the living area.

  Stephen returned a few minutes later, looking mystified. “Am I really drink?” he asked her.

  “Drink or drunk?” she teased.

  “Eh?”

  “Never mind.” Opening a kitchen cupboard, she took out the bottle of Irish whisky. Nightcap?”

  “Yes, please. Not too much, though, or I really will be drink.”

  Chapter Six

  A colossal hangover hit her the moment she opened her eyes. The living area ceiling spun around and she closed them again. Someone moved under her and sighed. She ran her tongue over her lips and jumped. Just what the hell was going on here? Her lips felt huge and sore. The person moved again and ran the palm of a hand across her front. She winced as the hand reached her nipples. They, too, were hard. And very sore. The pain made her wince and she opened her eyes again. She was on one of the sofas. Her head was resting in Stephen’s lap and he was staring sleepily down at her. She looked at her watch and swore.

  “Stephen? Bloody hell, Stephen. It’s five to nine. I have to get Tommy to school.”

  He stared at her in disbelief then ran his tongue over his lips. He grunted, running a hand through his hair, making it all stand on end.

  “Five to what?” he murmured.

  She tilted her head back to look at him. His lips were red and swollen, his jacket was nowhere to be seen, and his shirt was undone. What the hell had they done to each other? He looks as bad as I feel, she thought. As well as his swollen lips, there were little bruises on his chest and neck. I must have done that to him, she realized. He’s going to think I’m some kind of animal.

  “Nine. God, I have to get Tommy up and out. Are you awake?”

  He glanced at the clock then back at her and she watched his eyes as they travelled down from her lips to her breasts but she could tell that what he saw was not registering with his brain.

  He groaned. “Yes. Sort of. I’d better jump in the shower.” He groaned again. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Ow.” He woke fully and sat up straight, clutching his head. “My head.”

  Struggling out of the depths of the sofa, she clutched her head, then searched for her shoes. Somehow, the red dress was still around her waist. Taking another horrified glance at him, noting that his trousers were undone, she left the living area.

  Hurrying into her bedroom, she went to the mirror. She looked like she had been attacked. The thing was, she couldn’t remember a bloody thing. Now she had to shower and find some clean clothes and somehow get Tommy to school.

  Sliding the dress down her legs, she froze. She wasn’t wearing her tights. Or her panties. She covered her face with her hands. No. Kissing and a lot of groping, yes, considering the state they’d both been in, but had they really been that drunk? Had they gone all the way? For the life of her, she couldn’t remember a bloody thing.

  Going to the bathroom, she managed to shower, dry her hair, and get dressed in the space of fifteen minutes.

  “Tommy?” She opened his bedroom door, went inside, and found him sitting up in bed with a puzzled expression. “I’m really sorry, I overslept. I know you’re late for school but I’ll get you there as quickly as I can. Can you get dressed for me, please?”

  “Okay, Mummy.”

  “Good boy.”

  Outside the living area, she stopped to try and calm herself. Was Stephen still in there? Opening the door slowly, she peered inside. No, the room was empty and she went in. She crawled around the sofa they’d been on three times before swearing. They had woken up on that sofa so where were her bloody panties?

  “Shit. Shit. Shit”

  “What are you doing?” A voice asked calmly.

  She almost jumped out of her skin. Stephen was standing at the door. Open-mouthed, she stared at him in both consternation and curiosity. His face still bore the brunt of her. His lips were still swollen and she raised a hand to her own face in shame. What the hell had they done to each other last night?

  “I, um…”

  “Looking for these?” He reached into his trouser pocket and her tights and panties emerged. Both her hands flew to her mouth. “Here.”

  She took them and stuffed them into her jeans pocket.

  He went to the kitchen, returning with the bottle of whisky.

  “Between us, we drank almost half of this. On top of what we drank at the restaurant and pub. So I can’t remember anything either.” He put the bottle on the coffee table. “What if you’d found the panties? Would you have told me?”

  “Yes, I would,” she replied at once. “But all I wanted to do first was find them and try and remember what we’d done because I honestly can’t remember a thing. I feel cheap, okay? And
now I have to bring Tommy to school and then go to a chemist.”

  “A chemist?” he repeated sharply. “Why?” She hesitated. “Becca, tell me?”

  She cringed. “I’m not on the pill and I couldn’t find any condoms on the floor. Stephen, I need the morning after pill. I honestly don’t know if we did anything but I just can’t take the chance.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. “You’re not cheap. I’m sorry if I made you think that. I’m just angry at myself. If something did happen last night, I didn’t want it to have happened while we were drunk. I’ll drive you and Tommy to school then I’ll bring you to wherever you need to go. You are not going on your own,” he insisted as she opened her mouth to argue. “No excuses. Just let me change my clothes and ring work. I’ll be a couple of minutes.”

  As soon as he went into the hall and she heard a door close, she went to Tommy’s room. “Ready?”

  “Yes, Mummy.”

  “Because we’re very late, Daddy’s driving us,” she explained. “Can you manage to eat a banana in the car?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. Bring your satchel out to the hall and I’ll fetch one for you and an apple for break time.”

  The three of them went down in the lift to the underground car park and got into Stephen’s car. After making sure that Tommy had his seat belt on properly, she passed him the banana.

  “Pass me the skin when you’ve finished.”

  She went into the school with Tommy and apologized to his teacher for him being almost an hour late before kissing him goodbye and returning to the car.

  “You’ll have to give me directions, Becca,” Stephen told her. “I don’t know what chemist’s you want to go to.”

  “There’s a big chemist’s not too far away, I’ll go there. Take the next turn left. There’s a car park on the right. Park in there.” He parked and looked at her. Her cheeks burned again. “You really don’t…”

  “I really do,” he replied firmly but gently. “I’ll wait at the door. Then we’ll go for a coffee.”

  She left the chemist twenty minutes later with the package in her hands. They crossed the street and he followed her into a convenience store.

  “I said we’d go for a coffee,” he said, watching her buy a bottle of water.

  “You really think I’m going to sit in a coffee shop, or café, or whatever and take the pill there?”

  “You want to go back to the car for a few minutes, then?” he offered.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Is that it?” he asked, as she got into the passenger seat, taking the packet out of the paper bag.

  “Yes, and I take the pill now.” Extracting the pill, she put it in her mouth. Taking a big gulp of water from the bottle, she swallowed, but the bloody thing wouldn’t go down. If only he would stop looking at her with such sympathy. Why wasn’t he running a mile, like any normal man would do in this situation? “Bugger it.” She took another gulp of water and nearly choked.

  “Becca?” He began patting her back awkwardly.

  “Harder,” she gasped, and he started thumping. “Okay. Okay. Stop.”

  “It’s gone down?”

  She nodded. “Thanks. I don’t usually choke on tablets.”

  “Do you want to go for that coffee now? I don’t know about you but I really need one.”

  “Yes, please. My head is throbbing. I haven’t had a hangover for years.”

  “Becca.” Getting out of the car, he came around to the passenger side and crouched down. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. I’m usually really responsible with contraception but we were drunk. It seems that neither of us old fogies can hold our drink anymore. Let’s forget about it. I’ll be okay.”

  He nodded then ran a thumb lightly over her swollen lips before giving them a gentle kiss. “Let’s find a café.”

  “Good. I need a lot of caffeine.” She mustered up a smile.

  “Me too.”

  In a nearby coffee shop, they were served two large mugs of strong black coffee and they sat silently at their corner table as they drank.

  “Becca.” He spoke suddenly and she peered up from her mug. “I can’t forget about it. I don’t think you’re cheap, or anything like that. Like you said, we were drunk. I just wish I could remember because I always had this thing in my head that when I did sleep with someone again, it would be with you.”

  “I wish I could remember, too, and I’m angry at myself for not being able to remember.” Reaching out, she touched his still swollen lips with her fingers. “Because I had that thing, as well. That the next time I slept with someone, it would be with you, but I couldn’t while you were keeping things from me.”

  “Is that why you screamed my name when you were with Jack?”

  She shuddered. “Yes, but I don’t want to even think about him.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry.”

  “Do your lips still hurt?” she couldn’t help but ask. “This hot coffee is killing mine, but I need the caffeine.”

  “They’re tingling. And the coffee isn’t helping them one bit but I haven’t had a hangover this bad in years. If we did have sex, it must have been bloody good.”

  “It always was bloody good,” she added, and he laughed.

  “Looking back, I’m surprised that hotel bed in Brighton survived, the abuse it got.”

  “Expensive hotel – tough bed. You ready to go?”

  He swirled the last of his coffee around in his mug before draining it. “Now, I’m ready.”

  They walked a little way back along the street to the car park before she spoke.

  “I’ve always wanted Tommy to have a brother or sister, just not right now. We need to sort ourselves out first.”

  “We won’t rush into anything,” he said softly, and she felt him reaching for and squeezing her hand.

  “No.” She shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. She groaned. Oh, no, her stomach. She wasn’t going to throw up right front of him and bring the pill back up, was she?

  “Are you okay?” he demanded. “Becca?”

  “No, I feel rotten. I think it’s the pill, and I took it on an empty stomach.”

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “More water? Coffee?”

  “No, thanks. If I’m going to throw up then I’m going to throw up. It just won’t be very pleasant for either of us.”

  “Try taking some deep breaths.”

  “Yeah.” She did but it made no difference. “Can we go and sit in that park over there for a bit, until I either throw up or it passes? I’m really sorry about this. You should be at work.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Of course, we can.” Leading her across the street and into the small park, he sat her down on a wooden bench and sat beside her. “You’re as white as a sheet.” Reaching out, he touched her cheeks and forehead. “And boiling hot.”

  “Actually, I’m freezing,” she told him, shivering as if to prove it. “I’m going hot and cold and hot and cold…”

  “Here.” Taking his jacket off, he draped it around her shoulders then sat her on his lap and held her. “Feel a bit better?”

  “Yes, thanks. I don’t think I’m going to disgrace myself by throwing up in public so that’s a bit of a relief. There’s really nothing worse than that.”

  “I know.” Stroking her hair, he kissed her temple. “We can sit here for as long as you like, I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks. Oh, God, I haven’t felt quite so rotten in a long time, so I’m really glad I’m with you. I thought you’d run a mile at the first sign of ‘women’s troubles’,” she admitted. “So thanks for sticking around.”

  “Of course I’m going to stick around,” he chided gently. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He smiled and she rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. He really did love her.

  It took well over half an hour for the feelings of nausea to pass and she returned with him t
o the car.

  “I feel much better now, and I’m okay to pick Tommy up,” she assured him as he dropped her off in the underground car park. “Thank you for coming with me,” she added, kissing his lips. “Go to work and I’ll see you this evening.”

  Managing to get a slice of buttered toast and a mug of tea down her, she went to pick Tommy up from school.

  As he ran out of the school gates towards her, she heard the squealing of tyres on the road behind her and spun around. A large black SUV with tinted windows had stopped right on the school crossing, the lollipop man having to grab his STOP sign and run for the pavement to avoid being hit, and an enormous man got out carrying a cardboard box.

  “Who’s that, Mummy?” Tommy asked as the man approached them, and she grabbed Tommy, pulling him behind her.

  “For you, Becca.” The man dropped the box at her feet. “From the Burns boys.”

  “Leave me alone,” she stammered. “Tell them to leave me alone.”

  The man just gave her an infuriating smile before returning to the SUV. He got inside and it roared away.

  “Mummy?” Tommy whimpered and she turned around and gave him a kiss.

  “It’s all right,” she lied, just managing to keep her voice even.

  “It’s a bomb,” a woman behind her spoke. “Someone call the police.”

  “If it was a bomb, wouldn’t it have gone off when he dropped it?” she snapped.

  “An expert in these things, are you?” the woman retaliated. “Will someone please call the police?”

  Bloody hell, if she didn’t want mass panic, she was going to have to open the box. Crouching down, she scraped at the brown packing tape with her fingernails, before finding an edge and slowly drawing the tape back. Opening the flaps, she stared in disbelief. All five of the photograph albums taken when the flat had been ransacked, plus a red cardboard wallet were packed spine upwards in the box.

  “What’s in it?” the woman demanded.

  “Not a bomb, so keep your hair on.”

  “Nice company you keep,” the woman sneered and Becca heard her walking away.

  “Are you all right?” another female voice asked, and a hand was placed on her shoulder, making her flinch.