Retribution (Sebastian Trilogy Book 3)

by Rosen, Janey

  “You know you have my support, Beth. Whatever you decide to do, I will back you.” We clink glasses as we used to do in more carefree times, and recite our mantra, “Here’s to us, and down the rest of the buggers.” Our cappuccinos arrive and conversation turns to my relationship with Sebastian.

  “Do you miss him?” Ruth asks.

  “Yes. I really do.” I sigh. “He’s the man I’ve been dreaming of all my adult life, if that doesn’t sound too corny?”

  “Not at all. I see how you are together and, mostly, you’re good. Really good.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Well, you can both be fiery and hot-headed.” She giggles. “If Scarlett went…I mean, when she goes, I think you two will be just fine. I do want to ask you about the kinky stuff, though. Oh. My. God. What the hell is that room in the basement?” She licks her bottom lip, awaiting my reply. I know that look. That’s the look that tells me she will not accept anything other than the full lowdown on our sex life.

  “He’s dominant, Ruth, as you know. He’s a Dominant,” I say. She cocks her head to one side, smirking shamelessly.

  “Yes, yes, which means he gets to tie you up and beat the shit out of you?”

  “No, Ruth. Well, not as such. It’s not abuse if that’s what you mean. His mantra is ‘safe, consensual, and sane,’ so everything we do is based on mutual trust and agreement.”

  “Hold on, lady.” She replaces her coffee cup in its saucer and folds her arms. “You consent to him horse whipping you, or whatever it is you two do down there? And what about the ‘sane’ part? Can that really be said of you?” She laughs and I punch her arm playfully across the table.

  “Seriously, Ruth. He’s opened my eyes to a whole new way of having sex and…I kind of like the way he takes the lead. I find myself needing that from him more and more.”

  “I get that.” Ruth nods, sipping her coffee. “Doesn’t it hurt, though?”

  “It’s hard to explain. It’s good pain, if that makes sense. Because it’s so erotic, I get carried away and the pain becomes pleasurable. For example, when he shoved the butt plug in me—”

  Ruth spits her coffee, showering us both in warm brown specks. I still love to shock her.

  “For fuck’s sake, Beth!” She’s laughing so hard that it’s infectious. We cackle and giggle, unaware of those around us. We don’t notice the man standing to my left until he coughs loudly.

  “Hello, Beth.” The man fidgets nervously. Still laughing, I turn to apologise for our raucous behaviour, looking up at his face.

  “Mike. Oh my God. Mike Breeze.” Best man to Alan and I, his closest friend and…witness to Alan and Scarlett’s affair? Mike indicates to the chair beside me and I nod for him to join us. He leans forward and kisses my cheek and then Ruth’s. “How have you been, Mike?”

  “I’ve been okay. It’s been tough, without my mate Alan…but life goes on.” He orders a double espresso. “I thought you were living in Cornwall now?”

  “Yes. No. We’re back for Bella’s birthday. It’s her eighteenth on Thursday. She wanted to go out with some of her old school friends. So, here we are.”

  “Can’t believe she’s nearly eighteen.” He sighs. “Where does the time go, eh?”

  “Indeed,” I reply, feeling awkward and unsure what to talk to Mike about. Ruth makes small talk until his coffee arrives. This is a prime opportunity to quiz Mike about Scarlett. At Alan’s funeral, Mike indicated that my late husband had been dating a girl who fitted Scarlett’s description. Scarlett herself hinted that she had been seeing Alan. There will never be a better opportunity than this to ask Mike about his recollections. “Mike. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but there’s been something on my mind for some time and I’d like to ask you about it.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “At the funeral, you mentioned that Alan had been seeing someone.”

  He drains his coffee and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowed and suspicious. “What’s this about? It won’t do any good to go over old ground now, Beth. What’s done is done. By all accounts you’re still seeing that bloke from Cornwall, anyway.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” I acquiesce. “I’m not blaming Alan. God knows he had a crap life with me in the end…not that it was all my fault, you understand. However, I have reason to believe that the woman he was seeing is Sebastian’s maid, Scarlett.” In a moment of inspiration, I retrieve my mobile phone and open the camera application. Scrolling through the photographs I find one of Scarlett taken at Christmas. “Would you recognise her again?”

  Mike nods. “She was a looker. Not the sort easily forgotten, although it was some months ago.” He looks at the screen with no hint of recognition.

  “Is that the woman Alan was seeing?” My breath catches as Mike squints at the small image. Ruth shuffles nervously in her seat. He takes his reading glasses from his pocket and slips them onto the bridge of his nose, moving the screen away slightly until his vision is sharp enough to focus on the image. It is evident that the woman is familiar to him; my heart skips a beat. This could be the lead I need to see Scarlett condemned. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

  Chapter 9

  Mike hesitates before speaking. “I…I can’t be certain, Beth, but it looks like the woman. She’s thinner than she was, but then so are you. You bloody women are always changing your hairstyle, losing weight…but yes. I’m fairly certain that’s the woman Alan saw. Does she have a four-by-four car?”

  My hand trembles as I slip the phone in my handbag. “Yes, Mike. She has access to Sebastian’s Land Rover. When he’s in London or on the estate, Scarlett uses his car to run errands. She could very well have driven to Dorset if she was alone for the day. Even overnight.” Overnight—did Alan spend nights with Scarlett? After despising sex with me for bloody years. The way that Mike avoids my questioning stare confirms my husband’s infidelity. Suddenly I feel sick. I need air. Pushing my chair back abruptly, I mutter an excuse and swiftly exit the wine bar. Standing on the pavement, oblivious to people passing me by, the tears fall. A gentle hand on my arm focuses my attention back to Mike.

  “Beth. Shit, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He runs a hand through his hair, reminding me of Sebastian. How I miss him. How I need his strong arms around me right now, telling me everything is okay. I feel lightheaded, a cloying grey fog inside my mind darkening my thoughts. “I didn’t think you’d react that way after…well, you were seeing other men, love. It’s not like Alan cheated first.”

  I deserved those words. As time passes, so my guilt becomes more profound. “If I’m honest, Mike, I need to find out what really happened to Alan and Joe, because it’s something I can do for them. To right the terrible wrong that I did.” He hands me a tissue from his pocket to dry my eyes. “How often did he sleep with her?”

  He shifts his weight from foot to foot, apparently uncomfortable at my question. “A few times. Not overnight. Okay, once at my place. He told me they’d been to a hotel in Somerset a couple of times.” His eyes meet mine, my pain reflected in his. “I’m not trying to hurt you, love. You asked.”

  Ruth joins us outside, clutching my bag. “You okay, Beth?” I nod. “I’ve paid the bill, let’s get you home.”

  “One last thing, Mike.”

  He arches an eyebrow, hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets.

  “Did Alan seem okay to you towards the end?”

  “Beth, he was fucked up. To answer your question, no. He didn’t seem all right.”

  “In what way? I saw him so little, with Christmas and all. Did he seem at all…drugged? Weird? Hallucinations?”

  Mike considers my questions, then sighs deeply. “I don’t know what you mean by drugged. He was weird, yes. I remember one night, we were having take-away, and he’d seen her that afternoon. He looked at me and said the weirdest thing. He said the walls of my living room were running with blood. Your blood.”

  “Oh my God. So he hallucinated? Or do you mean…he wanted it to
be my blood?” The thought that Alan could have considered any real harm coming to me is abhorrent and unbelievable. For all his faults he was a gentle man, rarely cursing or wishing harm on others who wronged him.

  “No, love. He really believed he could see blood on the walls. He got weird towards the end, but then he was drinking a lot…more than usual. I put it down to the stress of your separation. It took its toll on him, you know.”

  “Yes, I know,” I whisper, ashamed.

  Ruth rests a hand on my arm. “Come on, lovely. Let's get you home. Mike, you’re welcome to pop in for a cuppa?” Mike shrugs and makes an excuse. It’s clear that he’s uncomfortable. We say goodbye, giving each other a perfunctory kiss before parting. Driving home, Ruth and I discuss the revelations of the afternoon. Ruth considers Alan to have been suffering from stress and alcoholism, but, to me, Mike’s disclosure is confirmation of Scarlett’s involvement in his demise.

  ***

  A chicken is roasting in the oven. It’s the first meal I’ve cooked for a long time and the normality of such a domestic task calms my nerves. Bella peels potatoes and Ruth pours me a second glass of red wine. My mobile phone rings just as I remove the tray of sizzling chicken from the oven to baste. Ignoring the familiar ringtone, I spoon hot fat onto the crispy bird and replace the tray, slamming the oven door shut with my foot. The phone rings once more. Sebastian’s photograph smiles from the phone display as I toss aside the oven glove and answer the call.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “Sebastian. Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” he says curtly. “You said you’d call when you reached Dorset. I know the roads can be bad but I’m guessing the journey didn’t take over twenty-four hours?”

  “Sorry. I meant to call you yesterday but I’ve had a lot to do, getting ready for Bella’s birthday.” I’m thankful he can’t see my flushed cheeks.

  “I see. I’ll drive up tomorrow. I wouldn’t miss my girl’s birthday for the world.” My girl. His fondness towards Bella warms my heart. “I hope you’re not overdoing it? The idea is that you rest, Elizabeth. It doesn’t sound as if that is the case.”

  “Oh. I’ve been resting too. Anyway, how are things at Penmorrow? Are you missing me?” I try to change the subject tactfully.

  “Yes, of course I miss you. Are you feeling any better?” His voice is clipped and a little cool.

  “You don’t sound as if you’re missing me. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is wonderful, darling. Unless of course you mean in spite of my girlfriend going nuts, running off to Dorset, my maid sulking and you not taking my calls.”

  “I see.” Ouch. That hurts. “It’s only for a short while, Sebastian. We agreed that I needed this space to get well.”

  “And are you getting well? Are you taking your medication?

  “Yes, of course. I’m feeling more clearheaded. Maybe you were right about this being grief.”

  “Yes, darling. I do think I’m right.”

  There is a long awkward silence. I break it. “Why is Scarlett sulking?”

  “I have no idea what goes through any woman’s head, Elizabeth, least of all hers.”

  “Has she mentioned a moving date? Has she found somewhere to go?”

  “No, she hasn’t. She kindly offered to stay on while you are away to look after the house.”

  I just bet the bitch has.

  “To look after you, you mean.” I can’t hide the bitterness in my voice, and he sighs deeply.

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s not forever. It makes sense that she stays until you return. It gives her more time to find another position and a place to live. I need the help too. Try to be reasonable.”

  “Reasonable?” I repeat, trying to curb the venom. “I think I’ve been very reasonable, given the fact that she has made it totally untenable for me to live with the man I love.” He sighs deeply but I’m unable to stop myself. “Furthermore, Sebastian, it seems remarkable to me that I’m feeling better now I’ve left Penmorrow. Now that I’m not eating her cooking, which incidentally is even more poisonous than anything that comes out of her mouth, and that’s saying something.”

  “Have you finished?” he asks nonchalantly. “I can’t do this any more, Elizabeth. I’m tired of arguing with you about Scarlett. I think, on reflection, it would be best if you stayed in Dorset, for the time being at least.”

  This was not what I’d expected. I’m shocked to my core, ice coursing through my veins. “Why? Don’t you love me?”

  Another long silence is followed by one more sigh and my sense of panic increases. “You know I do. With all my heart,” he says quietly.

  “But?”

  “But we’ve both been through so much and neither seems happy. Scarlett is a recurring topic for you, and I have to tell you that from my perspective, she is the one who has been my constant. I don’t think you can get over your jealousy, or whatever it is you feel toward her, and I know that her help here is invaluable. So, you see it’s a stalemate.”

  Jealousy? Are you kidding me?

  “But the things Scarlett does, I want to do for you, Sebastian. It’s bound to be difficult with two women living in the house, one whom loves you and one who’s crazy and besotted with you.”

  “And which are you?” he asks.

  “I love you. For fuck’s sake, you know that. Don’t you see what she’s doing to me? To us?”

  “Watch your mouth, Elizabeth.”

  “I won’t watch my fucking mouth. You’re ending our relationship because you choose a manipulative, dangerous whore over me.”

  “Then there’s really nothing more to say, is there?”

  “No. I guess there isn’t.” Tears flow down my face and I want to scream at him that I love him, not to do this to us. Instead I cut the call, my stubborn pride exceeding my desire to beg him not to leave me. This could be the biggest mistake of my life.

  Chapter 10

  The alarm wakes me from a fitful sleep filled with erotic dreams of Sebastian. For the past six hours, since I finally drifted off, he has chained me, whipped me and declared his undying love while I lay helpless and bound in Penmorrow’s inner sanctum. Now the early morning sun scatters its rays across my bed through hastily drawn curtains, as the final vestiges of sleep ebb away.

  Bella loves her sleep. She would happily languish beneath her duvet for a full twenty-four hours I’m sure, if it weren’t for the distractions of mobile phones, Twitter and Facebook. This morning, as I watch her silently from the doorway to her bedroom, it is hard to imagine that once this young woman was a babe in my arms. Her tousled hair spills over her pillow, remnants of yesterday’s mascara smudged beneath her closed eyelids, her chest gently rising and falling. Eighteen today, my daughter is now a woman. When did that happen? It seems not five minutes since Bella was playing with dolls and cooing over her baby brother. Closing the door quietly, I pull my dressing gown tightly around me against the morning chill and pad down to the kitchen to cook Bella’s favourite breakfast of bacon, eggs, and hash brown potatoes.

  Ruth, who has been sleeping each night on the sofa, is stirring. In the kitchen I fill the kettle and flick on the switch. My mobile phone is on the kitchen table, where I left it last night after consuming the best part of a bottle of red wine. A dull headache endorses the notion that red wine and I are not well suited. As the kettle noisily bubbles I wake the phone and note with dismay the absence of any missed calls or text messages from Sebastian. Just one from my mother asking that I call her to confirm what time she may come and give Bella her presents.

  “Did I hear the kettle boil?” Ruth enters the kitchen in a pair of red polka-dot oversized pyjamas, rubbing her eyes with her fists and yawning, her hair a mess of wild unruly curls.

  “You did, indeed. Tea coming right up.”

  Taking a seat at the kitchen table, Ruth looks at my phone. “Has he called?” She nods at the mobile, and I shake my head. “Men. They’re s
o bloody moody.” She tries to rake her fingers through her tangled mop but it proves an impossible task. She accepts the mug of tea gratefully, blowing on the steaming brew. “Tell me again what the plan is today for Bella’s birthday.”

  “She has a couple of friends coming over this afternoon. They’re going into town to spend the birthday money she hopes to receive. Then to a nightclub tonight.” I join Ruth at the table and sip my coffee.

  “Is he coming up?”

  “By ‘he’ I presume you mean Sebastian?” Even the sound of his name as it trips off my tongue is painful. My stubborn pride prevents me from picking up the phone and apologising. There is nowhere to go so it’s fruitless. He won’t kick Scarlett out and I won’t return while she’s there. “Yes, he is coming up for Bella’s birthday, as far as I’m aware,” I add.

  “He adores her, Beth. Don’t push him out today. Let him come if he wants to.” Ruth ignores my petulant sigh. “Talk to him. Look at you, you’re a mess.”

  “What’s the point? I’ve given him so many ultimatums and he’s chosen her so there’s no way past this for us. In fact I may as well file the restraining order on her, as I’m not going back while she’s there. At least then the police doctor could do the blood test, although it may be too late now. It’s been three days. Scarlett cooked me breakfast on Monday and since then I’ve been here. It’s now Thursday, so the test may not show any trace of her poison.”

  “Whoa, slow down, Beth.” Ruth’s eyes are etched with concern. “This is a blooming big step to take.” She holds up a hand to stop me interrupting. I close my mouth resolutely and allow her to continue. “If you do this, Beth, it will be the final nail in the coffin for you and Sebastian. He’ll see it as vindictive. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”