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Tied to You

Page 4

by Bibi Paterson


  “Why don’t you drink?” Alex asks softly, his expression searching.

  Something about this man seems to compel the truth out of me and I find myself telling Alex things I have never shared with anyone. “My dad,” I begin. “Well, he had a bit of a problem with drink, mostly wine actually. He would come home from work and start with a glass, ‘to relax’ he would say, and then that would turn into a bottle or two. Some nights he would fall asleep in front of the TV, but most nights he would get angry and abusive. Mostly it was just verbal, but every once in a while he would lash out at my mother.” I can feel that Alex’s posture has gone rigid and I can feel the anger rolling off of him.

  “The night after my thirteenth birthday, he got completely trashed. I think it was because he had lost this account at work and had been called into his boss’s office and been given a warning. I was going out to a disco with my friends and was about to leave the house when he called me into the front room. He went off on one about how I looked like a slut with my makeup on and how boys were only after one thing. He tried shoving me back towards the stairs to go clean my face and I, in my stupid teenage bravery, told him that I could go out how I liked. I wasn’t even wearing much, and my mum had already seen me and said it was fine, so I wasn’t about to let him spoil my night. That’s when he hit me. He slapped me across the face so hard they thought he had broken my nose. All I really remember is, afterwards, he leant into me, breathing horrible wine fumes into my face, and told me that I was a slut just like my mother and that I had it coming.”

  “The fucker,” Alex says quietly, but I don’t look up at him, concentrating on the sun setting on the horizon instead.

  “I think that was the last straw. My mother threw him out, threatening him that she would press charges if he came near us again. And that was the last I ever heard from him. After that it was just me and my mother until…” I trail off trying to hold back the emotions I have desperately kept locked inside all these years.

  “So when did your mother get diagnosed?” Of course, Alex knows what’s wrong with her—he has paid for her treatment after all, I think to myself.

  “After my dad left, things were good for a while. Mum and I were really close, but sometimes it seemed more like I was taking care of her rather than the other way round. She was becoming more and more forgetful, living her life by lists, and I was constantly checking that things were turned off. When I was trying to decide what university to go to, I made sure I only chose those in London so that I could still live at home.

  “All that time she still managed to work, so financially things were okay, but her boss noticed that her behaviour was getting a little erratic. I was in my second year when I got a call to say she had flipped out on a customer. I think her boss knew something was up with her, but he hadn’t wanted to get rid of her. But that day was the last straw, so he called me.

  “I managed to get her to see a doctor, but as she was only forty-two, they were reluctant to label her with Alzheimer’s. It took me a year of pushing to get a diagnosis, and although it was the worst-case scenario, the relief at finally having an answer was huge.”

  I am lost in my head as I tell my story; the relief of being able to talk to someone about everything is unreal. “Life carried on, I managed to get my degree and, as luck would have it, I managed to walk into a curatorial role at the London Museum. The money sucked, but I loved my job and for a while things were good. Mum had a carer coming in to check on her, so I knew she was okay during the day. But things got progressively worse, so I then had to get her into a home. At first the money I made was enough, but as the level of care she needed had to be increased, so did the cost, and in the end I had no choice but to sell the house to pay for her care. That lasted a few years, and at least I knew she was getting the best care possible.

  “Then, about five years ago, she stopped recognising me. I think that was actually the worst day of my life,” I say, unaware that tears are running down my face. “And really it has been downhill ever since. Eventually, my salary was not enough, so I found the job with Charles and left the museum…and the rest you know.” For the first time, I turn my head to look up at Alex and I see him regarding me with a dark expression. He reaches across and wipes the tears from beneath my eyes as I take in a deep breath.

  “Well, I am here now,” Alex states firmly, though his tone is soft. “You are not alone, and you don’t have to worry about money again.” I go to retort that he will be around for only a year, but I clamp my mouth shut, not wanting to ruin the moment. Instead, I lean my head into Alex’s neck and watch the sun completely disappear into the horizon.

  Eventually, Alex suggests that we head back to the hotel, and as I get to my feet I realise how tired I am. I barely manage to keep my eyes open through our journey, and when we get back to the suite, I dive into the shower for a quick wash before climbing in between the crisp sheets.

  Chapter Five

  The smell of bacon has me climbing out of bed. I follow my nose and find myself in the living area staring at a table filled with food. A rustle alerts me to Alex’s presence on the sofa and I squeak out a startled “Good morning.”

  “I wondered if you were going to join the land of the living any time soon,” Alex says with a smirk across his face. “Dig in. I’ve already eaten.”

  Ooh, there is too much choice. My eyes wander over a mound of delectable pastries and a platter of fresh fruit, and I take a moment to lift various cloches where I find the makings of a full English. I pour myself a cup of tea from a pot standing on the side and sip on the steaming brew as I contemplate what I feel like eating. I help myself to a stack of pancakes that I spy, add a couple of crispy rashers of bacon and then pour over some gloriously sticky maple syrup. I settle down on the corner to eat and find myself groaning in appreciation as I take a mouthful. Seriously, this is food heaven. “Oh my god, I am going to be the size of a house if I keep eating like this,” I mumble.

  Alex looks over at me and runs his eyes over my body. I am suddenly feeling very aware that I am wearing only a pair of tiny cotton shorts and a vest top. “You could do with a few more curves, Liv. It would suit you.”

  I am startled by Alex’s assessment. “Funny, I thought most guys liked skinny girls,” I joke half-heartedly, knowing that my lack of curves is the result of stress and not fashion.

  “Nah, you want something you can hold on to,” Alex says, grinning back at me, and I find myself smiling in response.

  Before I can reply, there is a loud knock on the door of the suite. Alex gets up to answer it with a puzzled look on his face; evidently he was not expecting anyone. I am startled when I hear a loud girlish squeal emanating from the direction of the door. Then, without warning, a tiny blonde woman comes barrelling towards me with a huge smile on her face, followed by a beautiful woman who looks about my age and bears a startling resemblance to Alex.

  “There she is,” the woman says excitedly. “You never told me how beautiful she is, Alex,” she admonishes as she comes to stand in front of me.

  I glance across at Alex, knowing that I must look like a deer caught in the headlights, but he just gives me a grin and a helpless shrug. It is clear to me that this must be Alex’s mother and all I can think of is what a dynamo she is.

  “Um. Hi, Mrs Davenport. I am Olivia. Liv, actually,” I say, holding my hand out to her. She bypasses the hand and immediately pulls me into an all-encompassing hug. She has a kind of Julie Andrews vibe going on and I immediately find myself relaxing. I have to warn myself not to get complacent. The last thing I need is to get too comfortable and let something slip.

  “It’s Sheila, darling. No need for formality when you are about to join the family.” The way she says the word family combined with the twinkle in her eye makes me wonder if she has some mafia connections somewhere.

  “Um, okay, Sheila,” I respond as she pulls back and holds me at arm’s length.

  “And this here is my daughter, Nadia,” Sheila says. N
adia steps forward and gives me a hug, murmuring a breathless ‘hello’, though it is definitely a little more reserved than her mother’s.

  “Mum, what’s with the ambush?” Alex suddenly asks, and I can hear the tone of a slightly petulant child that only a mother can bring out.

  “Oh, hush, Alex. You didn’t think you could keep her hidden any longer? I gave you a day, and now it’s my turn to find out all about this beautiful girl who has captured your heart.” I find myself blushing, and all at once, I feel the guilt of lying to such a lovely woman.

  “Mum, come on…” I sense Alex is trying to rescue me, but he is obviously no match for his mother.

  “Right, Olivia,” Sheila says, “We need to get you dressed and then we are taking you shopping.”

  I let out a squeak, not sure that I am ready to be left alone with these two women, as lovely as they seem. Plus it is not like I have any money to go shopping with. Sensing my distress Alex intervenes, “Mum, I am not sure Liv is really up for a day of girly shopping.”

  “Nonsense,” Sheila responds. “The girl needs a wedding dress, pronto. You said yourself that she had not found anything she liked in London.” I can feel my cheeks growing warm and I know that I need to sit down with Alex at some point and make sure our stories are straight. Alex gives me another helpless shrug and I know that I am trapped.

  “Um, shopping sounds good, Sheila,” I say. “Can you give me ten to jump in the shower and get into some proper clothes?”

  “Sure thing, darling. We’ll grab a coffee and catch up with Alex here,” Sheila says with a smile, but I sense that poor Alex will be getting a grilling of his own. I catch Nadia’s eye. She gives me a conspiratorial grin and I know we are both thinking the same thing.

  I head into the master bedroom to take the world’s fastest shower before digging through my bag to find something suitable to wear. My wardrobe is meagre, to say the least, but I can just blame the weather in England for the lack of summer clothes. In the end, I come up with a stretchy blue cotton dress, with capped sleeves, that falls just above my knee. It will have to do. I slide my feet into a pair of white sandals, add some gloss and run a brush through my hair. Done. I glance at my watch and realise I have a couple of minutes to spare, so I sit on my bed and take a couple of deep breaths, knowing that today is going to be filled with questions.

  When I finally feel mentally prepared, I make my way back into the living area to find Alex lounging on the sofa chatting softly to his mother and sister. They all look up as I enter and I see Alex running his eyes over my body, a smile on his face. It is far from predatory, but it still forces a blush up my neck. Okay, so at least I pass muster.

  “Right, time to go shopping,” Sheila announces, getting to her feet, and I can definitely see where Alex gets his commanding nature. As I pick up my handbag, Alex comes over to me, wrapping me in a hug. Before I have a chance to do anything he lowers his lips to my ear and murmurs, “Relax. It will be okay. They will ask loads of questions, but the story is we met two months ago at a book auction and fell madly in love. We didn’t want to wait, so here we are. Okay?”

  I nod my head discreetly and he plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “Have a nice day, Liv. Don’t let these two bully you into anything you don’t want, okay?” he says louder, for his mother’s benefit. I grin up at Alex, grateful for the pep talk. Out of nowhere, Alex produces a small black credit card. “Here you go, sweetheart. Charge everything to this. There is no limit, so go wild. The pin is your birthday.” Alex gives me a broad smile. Holy shit. A card with no limit…wow. I can’t even fathom that. But before I have a chance to say anything else, I am being ushered out the door by two women with a purpose.

  I lose track of the wedding dress boutiques we visit, but as I try on dress after dress, I just can’t find anything that works. I know this is not my dream wedding but I still want to be comfortable, and in this heat I am sure I am going to melt in the meringues that I try on. Sheila and Nadia are patient with me, but I sense that I had better choose something soon or we are all going to get a bit fed up.

  We are back in the city on the main shopping street and Nadia suggests a break for lunch. I am grateful for the distraction. As I chew on my panini, Nadia and Sheila reflect on the dresses that I tried on, trying to persuade me on their favourites. The real issue for me, though, was the cost of the dresses. Tens of thousands of dollars. I just could not feel comfortable spending that amount on a dress that I will wear once. That is like a deposit on a house, or university tuition, or even a really fancy car. To spend it on a dress just seems crazy.

  We are just heading back out onto the street when a dress in one of the windows catches my eye. I drag my companions over as I look at the display critically. “I want to try that one on,” I declare, pointing at a strapless ivory and cream lace cocktail dress. The design is simple but beautiful. I hurry inside and ask the assistant if they have that dress in my size.

  I know the instant I step out of the changing cubicle that this is the one. Both ladies have a gleam in their eye and admiration on their faces. And even better, the dress is only a couple hundred dollars, which is much more acceptable to me. “Do you think Alex will like it?” I ask shyly and Sheila smiles at me with a nod. “Then this is the one, guys,” I declare, before stepping back into the changing room to put on my clothes.

  When I emerge a few minutes later, I see Nadia clutching a pair of shoes that go with the dress, and at her suggestion, I try them on. I soon have the women giggling at my attempts to walk in the sky-high heels. The assistant is my saviour when she brings out a second pair in the same design but with a lower heel. Satisfied with my purchases, I ask the girl to ring them up, having only a minor heart attack when I realise the shoes cost almost the same as the dress. I hand over the little plastic rectangle that Alex gave me and I breathe a sigh of relief when the sale goes through. Old habits die hard, I guess.

  “Right, now we need to do something with your hair, darling,” Sheila declares, and I find myself bringing up a hand to my unruly mop. I am about to argue with her, but Sheila thwarts me by telling me she has already booked me an appointment. Not wanting to let her down, I allow myself to be walked down to an airy salon where Sheila takes charge.

  As I sit in the chair, I think back over the morning and realise that it has actually been fun. I have not had that kind of mother-daughter bonding for such a long time, and immediately I feel swamped by guilt that I am lying to these two lovely people. I look over to the nail bar, where Sheila and Nadia are both getting mani-pedis, chatting away, and I feel a stab of envy shoot through me at their closeness. Whatever Alex’s secret is, I can’t see how he thinks that his family wouldn’t support him; they seem so close-knit.

  The hairdresser mumbles behind me, saying that it looks like I have cut my hair myself, and I find myself blushing because that is exactly what I have been doing. When you don’t have the money, monthly trips to get your hair cut aren’t an option. I watch in alarm as the hairdresser chops into the back of my hair with ferocity, but he assures me it needs to be done to sort out the uneven layers. The front, however, he leaves long around my chin, all the while blending it into the back so that I now have an elegant angled bob that frames my face. A quick blow-dry later and I feel like a new woman.

  I join Nadia and Sheila for my own mani-pedi and soon they are regaling me with childhood stories about Alex. At one point I am laughing so hard the tears leak from my eyes, and I find myself wondering when the last time I actually had fun was.

  It is late afternoon when we finally head back to the hotel, laden down with bags, though the majority are not mine. Alex texts me to meet in the beer garden, so we drop the bags in the room and then head out to find him lazing in the sun with a cold beer. The ladies order a jug of sangria while I stick to a lime and soda and some sharing snacks.

  I find myself blushing when Alex compliments my new haircut, running his fingers through the short tendrils at the back and then tucking a stray lock be
hind my ear. I can see Sheila is watching us carefully so push through my nerves and plant a light kiss on Alex’s cheek as I whisper a ‘thank you’ in his ear.

  “So, did you find the one?” Alex asks and I hear the jest in his tone.

  “Yup,” I answer. “Shoes too.” I am sure Alex is probably not that interested in my shopping expedition, so instead I ask him about his day.

  “This and that,” he answers evasively, but not wanting to intrude, I leave it at that.

  Our drinks and snacks arrive and we dig in, but not before Sheila digs out a notepad from her purse and starts quizzing us on the wedding arrangements. Given that I actually have no idea what’s going on, I leave it to Alex to answer.

  It turns out that we are to be married at the family’s vineyard in three days’ time and the reception will be held in the restaurant that they own there as well. It seems like everything is in hand and I happily go along with the menu suggestions that Sheila puts forward. The only hiccup comes when Sheila grills me about who is coming from my side and I have to admit that no one will be attending. We gloss over my father, but when I tell her about my mother I see tears form in Sheila’s eyes and, before I know it, I am being given one of her hugs. I pat her on the back and let her know that it’s okay, and she firmly tells me that I am to think of the Davenports as family now.

  When Sheila and Nadia are satisfied that everything ‘wedding’ is in hand, the notebook goes back into the bag and they start chatting about family relations instead. I have a hard time keeping track of who is who, so I just sit back and listen to the gossip, enjoying the sense of serenity surrounding me.

  I am startled when Alex suddenly looks at his watch and suddenly announces that it is time for us to go. “What do you mean?” I ask. I am shattered from our shopping expedition and not really in the mood to go out.

 

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