The pain inside me is unbearable. I can’t seem to control the sobs that want to tear my chest open with the force of them.
Backing further into the trees as my devastation rocks me, I slide down the trunk and allow my quiet weeping liberty. It’s too strong to hold in, and even trying to contain every heart wrenching cry makes the agony so much more potent. I have no choice but to allow myself to break. Right in the middle of the village square. Right in the middle of a place I had come to love. And right in front of myself, the truth that I had tried to hide from slapping me in the face with an overwhelming despair.
Frazer doesn’t want me. He never did. I was just an easy shag. He doesn’t care who his cock is inside, so long as it’s inside a warm place. I have to admit to myself, though, that Tiffany is hot. She has the tightest ass. Her boobs are high and perky, and her teeth are perfect. There’s no wonder Frazer is so keen on bedding her. Me? I’m just ordinary. Average height, average chest (with tiny nipples, let’s not forget) and an over-average backside. My bits aren’t as tight as I’d like, and although my teeth are white, they’re wonky. There’s no wonder Frazer turned to Tiffany so quickly.
My crying calms as my phone rings.
I can’t see the screen through the blur but answer anyway. “Hello?”
“Daisy? Hello, dear?”
For some reason, the sound of Mrs Haversham’s gentle voice starts me off again. Give her her due, she patiently waits for me to calm down again, her regular and quiet rhythmic breathing lulling me into a strange sense of comfort.
“I’m sorry,” I snivel as I wipe my runny nose across my arm. My lip curls at the state of it and I hold the phone to my ear as I hunt in my bag for a tissue.
“Whatever is the matter, Daisy?” Mrs H asks.
I can’t tell her. She doesn’t know Frazer is even here.
“Frazer,” I blubber. “He’s… he’s…”
“Frazer is there?” She gasps.
I wince at the tone of her voice. She’s shocked but I can also hear the apprehension.
“Yes. He was filming a movie and… and he was staying at the cottage with me.”
“But there’s only one bed!”
“Well, we decided to share…”
“Share?” Her voice is clipped and inquisitive. “How much sharing did you do, Daisy?” My cheeks heat with shame and after a long pause, Mrs H asks again. “Daisy?”
“I…” I stutter, not knowing what to say as I pick at the edge of my nail awkwardly.
“Oh no.” Mrs H sighs. “Oh, Daisy. Frazer, he… he’s difficult.”
I nod. “Yes, he is. Very difficult.”
“What did he do?”
I pout and draw in a breath. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”
I hear Mrs H shuffle about and I presume she’s sitting down. “You have to understand that Frazer finds it difficult to get attached, Daisy. He’s… his childhood was…” I can tell she’s ashamed but I keep quiet. Hers and Frazer’s relationship has nothing to do with me. “…not very conventional. You should never have grown that close to him, sweetheart.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I didn’t intend to. I just wanted some fun, Mrs H, you know? I just wanted to feel feminine again. Wanted.”
“I know,” she replies. “But a man shouldn’t be the one to give you that. You need to love yourself before you fall in love with another. And you’re a special girl, Daisy. You should be happy and content in your own life. You have masses of love, you’re so pretty, and you’re the bubbliest woman I know. You should adore those things instead of looking for others to tell you.”
She’s right, I know she is. “I know. And thank you.”
“No need for thank you, Daisy. I’m only telling the truth.”
“Marcus asked me to marry him,” I say, flinching at my own revelation.
Mrs H is quiet for so long that I wonder if she’s hung up. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Your life has nothing to do with me, Daisy. But I will just say, you think long and hard about what you want. Who you want. Who will make you happy, and who will cherish the girl I have grown to love.”
My heart swells and a forbidden sob breaks free. But this time it’s a happy sob. “Oh, Mrs H, I love you too.” And I do. I realise I now have a huge wave of emotion for the woman I’d dismissed as a silly old cow.
“Promise me you’ll figure it out instead of rushing into something that is unbreakable.”
I have a feeling she’s talking from experience and once again my soul aches for what Mrs H had to give up. Life is so hard and unfair.
“I promise,” I answer honestly before we both hang up.
She’s right. I should think long and hard. Yet, I know Frazer doesn’t see me the same way I see him. Marcus says he loves me. And I can’t see any other offers coming along.
The last thing I want is to be a goddamn spinster for the rest of my life. Plus, I hate cats.
Maybe I could get a budgie. They’re good company, right?
My heart is heavy as I pick myself up off the grass. I need to figure out exactly what I do want. And if my inner debate points to Marcus then that’s what I’ll do. It’s my life, and even if I have to settle for second best, that’s better than nothing, right?
Right?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Frazer
My head is splitting and I blow out a breath as nausea swirls through me. I shouldn’t have drunk so much.
But it’s not the guilt of beer that makes me ashamed. It’s the memories of last night that are hitting me hard. Tiffany.
Shit!
“Morning.”
I look up when Daisy steps from the stairs and walks straight into the kitchen. She doesn’t look at me and her voice is quiet.
“You okay?” I ask as I push myself off the sofa and follow her.
She nods, keeping her back to me as she fills the kettle and flicks it on. “Yep.”
Her movements are as stiff as her tone. Dropping into one of the kitchen chairs, I watch her as she moves. She’s so pretty, and the way her silky pyjama bottoms slide across her plump arse make my dick rage for attention. Fucking hell. Why can’t I get her out of my mind?
But this morning, her bubbly personality is lost. She’s quiet and subdued. Her usual light tone has gone and her shoulders sag. I would have thought she’d be full of happiness after the prick had asked to marry her. After all, she told me she wanted ‘The Dream’. And I had found ‘The Dream’ spread across the bed in the form of various wedding paraphernalia and romantic articles.
When I’d asked her what she wanted yesterday, and she’d replied with those four words, my heart felt like it had split in two.
“I want the dream.”
Meaning the dream the prick could give her. Not me. Her dream had smacked me in the face when I’d flicked through each piece of her fantasy and I’d come across various love letters Marcus had written her. Their joint names were written in her handwriting and she had scrawled his name within numerous love hearts.
So what had I done? I had fucked Tiffany. And when I heard my phone trill with another text from Tiffany, I knew I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I was so glad Daisy didn’t know what I had done. Not that it would bother her. My name wasn’t Marcus. She couldn’t care less if I fucked another woman or not. And that’s what hurt. What hurt fucking bad.
“You want a coffee?” Daisy asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Sure.”
“And Tiffany? Does she want one?”
Fuck! “Sorry?”
“Tiffany?” She keeps her face down as she spoons sugar into mugs. “Did she stay over? Does she want a drink?”
I stare at Daisy’s back, unable to get my mouth to form any words. My palms start to sweat and I swallow back the bile that starts to trickle up my throat. “Umm.”
It then occurs to me that I’m ashamed of something I shouldn’t be. Daisy is going back to the prick, and she’ll be fucking hi
m. So why should I be embarrassed by doing something she’s going to be doing very soon? She won’t think of me when Marcus’ dick is inside her. Unlike I had done with Tiffany. It was the only way I could get off, thinking about Daisy. Seeing her face instead of Tiffany’s. Feeling Daisy’s lips, Daisy’s perky tits, Daisy’s sweet pussy. Hearing Daisy’s soft moans, Daisy’s gentle voice in my ear, Daisy’s dirty words encouraging me to come.
I’m doomed.
I can’t answer her. My throat has closed in and my chest feels too tight. The chair scrapes loudly across the floor when I race from the room.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Daisy
“HE WHAT?” Kathy explodes over the phone.
Why is everyone acting so surprised that Marcus asked me to marry him? Is it that unbelievable that someone would want to marry me?
“I really hope you told the weasel to do one, Daise.”
“Uhh.”
Her gasp is short but sharp. “Daisy…”
She pauses when one of the evil pixies butts in. “Mommy,” Miranda whines. “Billy is sticking his finger in the plug socket again.”
Kathy huffs. “Can you tie him to the bedpost for me, Miranda? I won’t be long.”
Waiting until Miranda has disappeared again, Kathy says, “Daisy. Please tell me you told him no.”
“I didn’t tell him anything.”
“Why?”
There’s a distant scream and a thud in the background but Kathy doesn’t sound concerned and I carry on. “Because I’m still thinking about it.”
“You’re thinking about marrying him? The him that boned Belinda? Are you seriously gonna be okay with him sticking it in you after it’s been in her black hole?”
“This isn’t just about sex, Kath.”
“It’s a bloody good job, especially ‘cos he’s crap at it. Are you really gonna be okay with no more good sex for the rest of your life?”
“I would rather give up sex and be happy.”
“Oh,” she scoffs. “And Marcus is gonna make you happy, is he?”
Is he?
“Why are you being so mean?” I ask, sulking as I slump onto the bed and turn to face the window.
“I’m your best friend; that gives me entitlement to be mean. But you know I’m right. That’s why you think I’m being mean. You can’t, Daisy. You just can’t. Do you love him?”
“I… love doesn’t make you happy, Kath. It isn’t about that. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’m gonna wake up and have no one. I want babies, but soon I’ll be past that point…”
“Shit, Daisy. You’re only twenty-six.”
“Twenty-five,” I huff. “I’m lonely,” I whisper, hating what I know is the truth. “I’m so fucking lonely.”
Kathy sighs. “Oh, babe. I wish I was there. We need to have a night of Netflix, ice-cream and chilling.”
“Not you as well!” I murmur, re-evaluating all the nights I’ve shared a bed with Kath and found her arm around me and her hand on my left boob – although I like my left boob; it’s a lot nicer than my right. Kathy evidently feels the same.
“Eh?” she questions, just as another ear-piercing scream echoes through the phone. “Gotta go, babe. Don’t decide anything until you’re home. I mean it!”
“Yes,” I groan before she disconnects.
A loud bang comes from downstairs and I frown. Climbing off the bed, I make my way down.
Frazer is laid face down on the floor. He groans when I rush over to help him up.
“Are you okay?” He groans again and I’m hit with a tidal wave of alcohol fumes as I steer him over to the sofa. “Bloody hell, Frazer. It’s only just after lunch.”
“Who are you, the fucking alcohol police?” His tone is sharp, and his eyes even sharper as they pierce me.
Dumbfounded with his hostility, I step back and stare at him. “Excuse me?”
He snorts. “Excuse me,” he mimics.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
My eyes widen and I suck in a short breath when he jolts forward and grabs the tops of my arms. “Me? ME? Are you that fucking selfish?” His grip is painful and I try to wriggle away but he holds onto me tighter. “How dare you judge me! What gives you any right to sneer at me the way you do?”
Shaking my head as tears bubble in my eyes, I manage to free myself. “I don’t sneer at you.”
“Yes, you do. You’re just not aware that you do it. Perfect Daisy. Never had to work for anyone’s affection, never had the shame of not being wanted by your own parent.”
Anger surges and I glare at him. “What the hell do you know, Frazer McNeil?”
I shouldn’t be so hurt by his hatred, but I am. I can’t understand what I’ve done to even warrant it. I want to knee him in the balls but I can see the pain in his eyes and I have to stop myself from hugging him. It’s pretty obvious he still has issues with his mother’s abandonment.
“You should talk to her,” I urge quietly.
Frazer stares at me like I’ve just stuck my tongue up my left nostril. “Who?”
“Your mum.”
A bitter laugh bursts from him. “See? So fucking easy for you, isn’t it? Your mother may be a mad bint, but at least she fucking loves you.”
“Frazer…”
He steps back when I reach for him. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
Tears spill harder down my face and I wipe at them. “I… I’m sorry.”
“What the hell are you sorry for? Don’t be! I don’t care whether you give a shit or not.”
Nodding slowly, I swallow back my distress, angry that I’m allowing him this much control over my emotions.
His phone rings and I watch as he pulls it from his pocket and stares at the screen. “Tiffany, babe,” he slurs. Then lifting his eyes to mine, he drawls. “Get that sweet little ass over here.”
My bottom lip pops under the pressure of my top teeth and I turn away quickly before he recognises the hurt that twists deep inside me. I nearly stumble as I snatch up my jacket and bag and leap for the front door.
“Daisy?”
“I’ll get out of your way,” I bite. “You don’t want me here when you’re screwing your girlfriend. Have fun.”
I slam the door behind me and race down the mud path into the village. My feet skid and it’s then I realise I haven’t got shoes on.
Damn it.
Stones and gravel rip into my soles while Fraser’s hurtful words slash my soul, and I wince with every step. But there’s absolutely no way I’m going back.
I hate him. I hate him.
I love him. I love him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Daisy
Kath stands in the doorway and stares at me like I’ve grown three heads while I’ve been gone. “What the hell are you doing here, Daise?”
My bottom lip wobbles and she quickly ushers me inside, and then over to the sofa. Taking a confused look at my sore bare feet, her eyes snatch back to my face. “Where are your shoes?”
I shrug.
“You came all the way back from Norfolk without shoes?”
Fighting tears, I also attempt to curb the tremble in my bottom lip as I nod wildly.
“Jesus Christ!” She huffs as she runs upstairs for the first aid kit she keeps in the bathroom.
“Auntie Daisy!” Miranda squeals as she leaps up onto my lap. “Billy’s got the shits. And he puked all over Miss Darcy.” Miss Darcy is the goldfish.
The shits?
“I’m not sure your mum would like you saying that word, Miranda.”
Ignoring me, she carries on. “He trumped on my dolly and now she’s covered in poop!”
Lovely.
“It’s in her hair and I can’t get it out!”
She thrusts her doll in my face. I squeal and scuttle back at the state of poor Dolly. She looks like she’s been pebble dashed.
“You see,” Miranda cries, my reaction making her screw up her face in distress. “And now she’s all stinky too!”
Miranda’s eyes widen like she hasn’t thought about that. Grinning with excitement, she runs from the room, nearly colliding with Kathy as she walks back in.
Kath settles on the floor in front of me and pulls my feet onto her lap. Carefully cleaning the cut soles, she grumbles loudly. “Spill.”
I feel stupid. But I’m also hurt, so it all rushes from me in a blur of hiccups and slurred words. “Frazer shagged Tiffany. And he said I was selfish. And that I have no idea how it feels to be pushed aside by a parent. How the hell would he know what I feel? Hmm? How can he say that to me, Kathy? Me of all people. The me whose father buggered off before my mum even had chance to squeeze me out of her vagina? How?”
Kath blinks at me as she gently wipes antiseptic. “So… let’s start from the beginning. Frazer shagged Tiffany?”
I nod, my eyes widening as I try to stop the flow of tears consuming me.
“This is the Frazer that is just a bit of fun to you?”
I stare.
“A bit of fun that shouldn’t really bother you what he does. I mean, you went out looking for other random shags. Right?”
I lower my eyes.
“Right, Daisy?”
“Well, yes, but… I couldn’t.”
“But, you did try? And Frazer knows this?”
My bottom lip juts out and I nod slowly. “I guess.”
“Okay.” She draws a long breath. “And he said you were selfish?”
I suck in a furious breath, the memory of his spiteful words making my chest burn with ire.
“Why did he say you were selfish?”
I shift uncomfortably and Kath raises an eyebrow.
“Well.” I shrug. “I asked him what was wrong, and because I didn’t know what was wrong, he said I was selfish.”
The Bunk Up (The Village People Book 1) Page 14