Freeing Alex (The Alexandra Drake Series)
Page 6
“Are you sure?” He turns, looking towards me, his deep voice rumbling. “That’s such a lot of money. Too much Alex, I don’t know if I can accept it?”
I smile. “Are you telling me that you’re not worth it?”
He huffs,“No, I’m not saying that, but it’s just such a lot. Thank you.” He turns his head towards me, smiling.
“You’re welcome.” I place my hand on his shoulder and feel the firm muscles through his suit. I squeeze his shoulder very gently, reassuringly.
“Fuck! I can’t believe it!” he blurts out. “Two. Hundred. And. Fifty. Grand.” He punctuates his words. “You are sure?” he asks again.
I sigh deeply. “James, if there’s one thing you’ll soon learn about me, it’s that behind this simple exterior is a very determined woman. I’m not indecisive – well, not now anyway – in fact, the complete opposite. I may not have worked for years and I may have spent the last twenty-odd as a housewife, but I know my own mind and I haven’t lost my knack for spotting talent when I see it. I will not stand for a loyal team member not being rewarded. Are we clear?”
“Yes… Thank you.” He spins around, stands and places a gentle kiss on my cheek. His lips are so soft but firm, and that masculine smell… The heat from him warms me inside and out, the brush of those lips sends shivers through my very core. He pulls away. “It will make such a difference,” he whispers.
“You’re welcome. It’s nothing more than you deserve,” I say quietly, and boy, that little kiss made all the difference!
We spend the afternoon discussing the staff and forthcoming events. There are a couple of prestigious weddings and parties booked in, things that will make the glossy magazines, but nothing that the Bossman doesn’t take in his stride and deal with in his own, unique and calm manner; he is very professional.
As I leave, James is pawing over more paperwork on his desk. I cross the office to collect my bag, and as I pass him I place my hand on his shoulder. “Where are you staying tonight?” I ask.
He looks up. “A friends’.”
“You know, I’ve plenty of spare rooms, all made up. The offer’s there if you get stuck and don’t want to stay at the hotel. Here…” I have absolutely no idea what makes me offer him a room at my home, but I hand him a piece of note paper with my address on.
“Honestly, if you get stuck you’re more than welcome, there’s only me and Anna rattling around in that place and come October, there’ll only be me!” Why have I offered him a bed at my home? I don’t know if perhaps I regret it once I have done. As if this super sexy young man would want to stay at his boss’s home anyway?
“Thank you, Alex, I think I’ll be okay, but thanks anyway. And, thank you, you know, for what you did today, it really is much appreciated.” He shoves the note in his pocket and returns to his papers.
“You’re welcome. It really is no more than you deserve, this place wouldn’t be what it is without you. And besides…” I stop mid-sentence, not really sure if I should continue with what my mouth wants to blurt out but my brain is telling it not to.
“Besides what?” he asks.
I think, quickly: will it hurt? Will it really be so bad if I say what I want to? What’s the worst that can happen? I’d look foolish and would probably stay away for a while.
“I like you, James, that’s what. I think you’re great and you’re doing an amazing job.” There, said it and it wasn’t so bad. I turn towards the door, I intend to make a quick exit. “See you tomorrow.” I walk briskly from his office.
“Okay,” he replies, a little taken aback, I think, but allowing me to escape quickly, thank God. Although I regret what I said almost instantly, I mean, come on! What’s he going to see in me?
Chapter 4
I arrive home relatively quickly, must have found a window in the traffic, which is excellent for London on a Friday, and eventually stumble into my home. The house is so quiet, no music belting out of Anna’s room.
Taking off my shoes, my feet breathe a sigh of relief at the comforting, icy cold feel of the tiled hall floor. I ditch my bag and walk through to the back of the house to my newly refurbished kitchen. The white gloss cupboards are bright and the clean lines of the granite work surface together with stainless steel appliances make the room look like it’s been lifted straight from the Ideal Home magazine. I love my kitchen and now the decorators have finished, the house is truly luxurious. One of the habits from my “old life” that I don’t think I’ll ever relinquish is cooking; I love nothing more than to cook, and love experimenting with new recipes, even if it’s just for Anna and me, as it’s been in the past..
I flick the kettle on and go upstairs to my room with the intention of changing into my comfy clothes. On the way I pass Anna’s door, it’s quiet. I knock. “Anna?” I say to the door and knock again. There’s no answer. It really is very quiet, whenever Anna is home my ears are being assaulted by her music. I open the door and my beautiful daughter is fast asleep on the top of her bed, snuggled up to Mr Bear, the teddy she’s slept with since she was, oh, must be five years old. As I look at her I can’t believe she’s eighteen and will soon be leaving home. I’ve no doubt she’ll get the grades she needs to be able to accept any one of the university places she’s been offered, although she’s always favoured Birmingham, only because that would keep her close to home, but home’s not that way any more.
“Anna,” I say quietly as I sit down on her bed. I place my palm on the back of her head. Her dark wavy hair is so beautifully soft, nothing like mine which is deadly straight, and her olive skin so smooth and clear. She’s the same sort of build as me but much slimmer, of course, and I have no idea where the dark eyes come from – maybe my birth father, whoever he may be. Tom Chandler did say that Maggie had indicated that I was conceived in Italy. I wonder if my real father is Italian? Will I ever know?
“Anna, sweetheart, do you want some supper?” I speak quietly.
She stirs. “Oh… hi Mum,” she says sleepily with a yawn. “Did you have a good day?”
I grin as I recall my day with the Bossman. “Umm, I think so. I got to spend some more time with James, find out at bit more about him and what’s he’s like. I can see why Maggie took him on.”
I’m enthusiastic about James, not least because he is incredibly sexy. I never thought I’d think about a man like that ever again, I honestly believed that Lewis had ruined me for life! I never in a million years thought that I’d tell another man that I liked him!
Anna gets up off her bed. “I need to pee,” she informs me as she pads into her en-suite and shuts the door. I stand and call to her as I’m leaving her room, “Do you want a jacket potato? I ate at lunchtime. I’m just having a sandwich.”
“That’s fine with me,” she calls, her voice muffled through the bathroom door.
I change and head back to the kitchen, looking around this vast house and wondering if I really am going to rattle around once Anna has gone. Another old habit that I can’t seem to break is constantly mithering about the cleaning. Maybe I should get someone in to do it for me? Will I even stay here, long term? Do I really like the house?
Anna eventually arrives in the kitchen and takes a seat on one of the island stools. Her potato is being half nuked in the microwave and I’ll pop it into the oven for twenty minutes or so to finish off. I’ve opened a can of tuna and squashed it together with some low-fat mayo, she can have that with some salad. I’ve made a tuna sandwich for myself.
We sit and eat in silence, just like we used to before, before this whirlwind hit my life – for the best? Who knows? But it certainly gave me the wherewithal to leave the bastard, which I doubt I would have done under my own steam. Had I let myself get into a rut, let myself become taken for granted? Probably, but deep down I knew it was wrong, my parents and Maggie would be turning in their graves if they knew how Lewis had treated me, if they really knew.
“I spoke to Katie today,” Anna announces, waking me from my thoughts.
 
; “Oh yes, how is she?” I like Katie, one of Anna’s best friends, she always seems level headed. Not that Anna needs any levelling, she’s very sensible.
“She’s okay, nervous about getting our results!” Anna cringes outwardly, but she’s no need to worry, I know she’ll do well. “Can she come and stay for a few days? We can go shopping, maybe see a show, go to a club and then I can go back with her to collect our results.”
I finish my sandwich, swallowing the last mouthful. “Sure, Katie’s always welcome. She’s a choice of rooms, you could even both stay at the hotel, I’m sure we could fit you in and if you’re going into town the hotel is more central than here.”
As I look at her I think it would be best if she stayed at the hotel. I wouldn’t have to drive or worry about them so much.
“I was planning on running you back up north for your results but I can’t get the two of you in the car. You can take the train with Katie if you want and I’ll drive up then bring you back, unless you want to spend a few days with her, or at your dad’s? It’s up to you.” I collect the dishes from supper and rinse them before loading them into the dishwasher. “Give her another call, see what she fancies,” I suggest.
“You hate driving in London, Mum?” She laughs.
I glare at her for reminding me. “I know, but once I get onto the motorway I’m fine, it’s the complex, narrow streets I hate!”
She laughs at me again. “I’ll call her now, but I won’t be staying with Dad, he’s not going to be there next week. Well, he never was in the week, was he? I spoke to him this morning.”
She picks up her phone and wanders into the living room. I finish tidying the kitchen and flick through the post that’s arrived today, mainly junk mail.
I’ve just poured myself a glass of wine when Anna comes back into the kitchen. I’m standing at the sink when the doorbell rings. I look at Anna. “Expecting anyone?” She shakes her head. “Umm, neither am I.” I hate people calling without me knowing they’re visiting. Thoughts of Lewis landing on my doorstep play havoc with my imagination: what if?
“Wait there.” I look at Anna. She follows me to the kitchen door and waits; the hallway is long and straight, so she’ll be able to see who’s at the door once I open it. I look through the spy hole. “Delivery, I think.” I glance behind me at Anna, and she relaxes a little. Opening the door I find a young woman with a large basket of strawberries and champagne.
“Delivery for Mrs Drake,” she says and hands me the basket.
“Thank you.” I accept the basket and close the door as the girl heads off.
Anna’s eyes widen. “Look at those strawberries, they’re huge!”
I take the basket through to the kitchen and remove the cellophane. There’s a note on a white card inside.
Thank you so much, it really is appreciated. See you tomorrow. J.
“Who’s ‘J’?” Anna looks at me with a huge smile. “Is he a boyfriend, Mum?” she teases.
“No, it’s James, I think. Maggie never increased his salary since he started at Reid's, and I sorted it out today, that’s all.” I look at the delicious fruit and expensive-looking bottle.
Anna’s fixated on the strawberries. “Oh. Anyway, Katie’s coming down next Saturday and we’re going back on Wednesday morning, is that okay?”
I acknowledge her with a nod and look at the basket. Nobody has ever done anything so nice for me before. It’s such a lovely gift, not that I drink much champagne, and I certainly wouldn’t open a bottle for myself, but the strawberries are huge. We’ll eat those later, I’m sure of it.
I listen to Anna carry on about Katie and about what she’s planning.
“Not a problem, sweetheart, you’ll have to let me know which train Katie is coming on and I’ll…” I pause. “No ,I’ll get someone to pick her up.”
I’m pleased that Anna’s having her friend to stay. I’ve uprooted her, I feel, although I think she was glad to get away from the atmosphere of her dad and I being together.
Anna calls Katie back to confirm the arrangements. I cringe and mentally slap myself across the face when I hear Anna telling her friend that her mum is too scared to drive through London and the only route she does is from home to work – I note that she refers to the hotel as work. I turn around and scowl at my daughter, who is in hysterics at some comment that Katie has obviously made about my driving. She ends the call and smiles at me. “What?” she asks. “It’s the truth, you won’t drive through London ‘cause you’re a scaredy-cat!”
She’s right, of course. I won’t drive, only the route I know, and even that causes me to have a minor stress. Maybe I should get a driver? My new neighbours seem to have a person for every little job: a dog walker, a driver, a cook, a cleaner, an ironing lady – the list goes on and on!
I sigh. “What do you think about us getting a driver?” I ask she looks at me and grunts, a sort of “urg!”
“What’s ‘urg’ mean, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know, I just hadn’t thought of it. Whatever you want, Mum. Anyway, I’m not going to be here much once I go to uni.” She reminds me yet again that she’ll be gone before long, it’ll come round really quickly, too quickly.
Thinking about what life’s going to be like once Anna has gone, I pick up my wine and head for the bathroom. “I’m going to have a soak.” I put my hand on her back as I head off upstairs.
Running a bath, I ponder this driving business. I need to bite the bullet and get a grip, but the roads are just so busy and I’m not used to it. I fill the bath and add some coconut-scented bubbles and slip out of my comfy clothes before looking at myself in the full-length mirror. Not bad for forty-two. I’ve still got the scar from where Anna was delivered, emergency section, and in common with other mums it means I’ve got a sort of shelf. No matter how I exercise or watch my weight I suppose it will always be there to some degree or other, could be worse, I suppose. My boobs are still quite firm, as is the rest of my body – the years of watching what I eat and looking after myself are paying off.
As I turn in front of the mirror I catch sight of the monstrous scar across my left shoulder. Even though [add number] years have passed since he did it I can still make out the shape of the iron that Lewis had lunged at me with during one of his rages, the red outline. Yes, it’s faded to what it was, but still the shape’s still very, very clear. I am so embarrassed and ashamed of it that I no longer show my back in public.
I can even remember what I’d done, not ironing his shirts twice. I cringe at the thought, at the memory of the pain he inflicted on me that day. It was one of the worst episodes and will never, ever be repeated. Then I look further down and see the other mark, the tiny brand of his initials…
I remember him waking me in the middle of the night. He’d staggered into our room, pissed as usual. I suppose Anna must have been about six months old. He’d woken me and forced me onto my stomach, then he’d held me down with all of his weight whilst he branded me with that hot wire. I remember screaming into my pillow and him snarling at me to keep quiet. “You’re mine, you bitch, nobody else will ever come near you, not with my mark.” I had hoped that I would block it out, learn to forget, but I can’t and as I wait for the bath to fill it seems all so vivid, fresh. I need to move on, I have to. I’ve been given the opportunity to start again and I need to embrace it.
I have a gloriously long soak and listen to Anna’s music. It’s turned up so loud that I don’t really have any option but to listen, not that I mind – it makes the house a home, brings it to life. I Love It pounds its way into my relaxing soak. I listen to the words and it reminds me of the day we walked out on Lewis, and makes me feel good, really good!
After what must have been an hour-long soak and once I’ve finished my beauty routine, applying body butter in the same fragrance as my bath soak, I spend the remainder of the evening watching TV with Anna and a large glass of white wine and the enormous strawberries, which we both enjoy – they really are very good. We watch the
late evening news together before we both head off to bed at the same time.
“What have you got planned for tomorrow?” Anna asks me as we climb the stairs together.
“I’m going back to the hotel. I’ve told James that I don’t want to be the faceless owner. I don’t want to actually work there but I want the staff to know who I am, you know, for them to know that I take an interest, and anyway, I need something to do, I can’t just sit around all day!” I explain my rationale for spending time there, I really do want to keep myself occupied.
She shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, so you are going there again?”
“Yes, I am. We can meet for lunch if you want?” I say sleepily. As much as I adore my daughter she’ll be going in a couple of months, and I would never deny her that, the opportunity, but she has to realise that this is also my life, my new life. I think she’s a bit miffed that she’s spending so much time on her own but she’s forgetting the hours and hours I spent on my own waiting for her to come home from school and while her dad was out doing whatever he was doing.
“Yes, but I thought we could go shopping?” she whines.
Is that all she thinks about?
“We can, but don’t you want to save that until Katie’s with you?” I suggest.
“I suppose, but I like shopping with you and anyway, apart from that handbag and a couple of pairs of shoes you’ve not got yourself anything new since you got your inheritance, not really anyway. For heaven’s sake, Mum – you’re still wearing Marks & Spencer’s frumpy knickers!” She raises her voice at me. She’s right, I’ve not done much for myself, apart from buy a car, a purchase which was essential but the Audi – well, I’m starting to think that it was a mistake.
I relent, sighing, “Okay, you stay in bed tomorrow and I’ll call you mid-morning. We can arrange where to meet, maybe have lunch in the hotel, is that okay?”
“Great, I haven’t eaten there yet.” She yawns.
I hug her on the landing and say goodnight before we both go off to our rooms.