The Great Escape

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  ‘Are you ok?’ I asked.

  ‘Nearly being suffocated has at least one benefit. Your Dad won’t be seeing wood anytime soon.’

  ‘Don’t count on it. Dad, no!’ I yelled as I saw him hefting up a large branch lying on the grass verge. I managed to find the door handle and gave it a sharp tug, then a hard push so it swung open.

  ‘That was lucky, I was about to break the window. What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing, nothing’s going on. We were just talking and I got stuck. Can you try and pull the lever under the seat? If we can push it back, I can get out.’

  ‘After hearing the conversation you were having before I knocked on the window, is it safe for me to be crawling under your legs? I need to have my eyes open and there are some things that no father ever wants to see. Again,’ he added in a stern tone.

  ‘It’s safe, Dad, nothing’s on display.’ I rolled my eyes at the beige soft-touch ceiling of the BMW as Weston muttered “Jesus” under his breath. So much for making a better impression the second time around.

  I hugged Mum on the front doorstep as Weston pulled our cases out of the boot. I could hear him objecting to Dad’s offer to take them upstairs.

  ‘What was going on out there?’ she asked. ‘Your dad looked like he was about to smash the car window.’

  ‘I was,’ Dad agreed as he bumped his way past with the two small overnight bags.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ I said quickly, speaking before Weston, who’d just opened his mouth. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. ‘I was upset over something stupid and he pulled me onto his lap to give me a hug and we got stuck, then set off the air bag as I tried to wriggle my way out, which trapped us even more.’

  ‘Well, sitting in his lap isn’t very ladylike behaviour, Georgina,’ she scolded, giving me an unimpressed look.

  ‘Mum, honestly, can’t you call me Georgie like everyone else?’

  ‘It’s your name, darling. Now come on in, I’ll put the kettle on while your dad puts the bags in your bedrooms.’

  ‘Bedrooms?’ I queried as we followed her inside.

  ‘We may be aware of the fact that you’re having sex, Georgina, especially after being confronted with that very fact in such an unladylike manner at your birthday party, but that doesn’t mean we’re ready to have you fornicating under our roof.’

  ‘Mum!’ I exclaimed, Weston’s grip on my hand tightening as he choked. ‘Honestly, I’m thirty years old, not thirteen.’

  ‘Separate rooms,’ she said firmly. ‘Now, what kind of tea would you like, Weston?’

  ‘Just normal tea will be fine, Mrs. Basset, thank you,’ he replied.

  ‘He’ll have a Darjeeling, Mum. We’ll go and sit in the lounge.’

  ‘Very well. Shoes off please, I don’t want mud all over the carpet.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ I sighed, shooting Weston an apologetic look as she sped off towards the kitchen. ‘She doesn’t do builders’ tea, sorry. Only fancy ones.’

  ‘It’s not exactly going great so far, is it?’ he said as I led him through to sit on the stark white sofa. I hated this house. Everything was minimalist, hard and angular. There was nothing soft and welcoming about it at all. I was amazed my parents had dogs. True, they were confined to the large kitchen-dining-family room, but even so.

  ‘At least the only way is up,’ I said, using my most reassuring tone.

  ‘Nothing’s going to be going up tonight. Separate bedrooms? Seriously?’ he scoffed as he sat back, rested one ankle up on his knee, and put his arm around me.

  ‘I’ll set you a covert mission later.’ I smiled with a suggestive waggle of my eyebrows. ‘With your skills, you should be able to make it into my bedroom undetected.’

  ‘Mission accepted,’ he grinned, leaning in to plant a kiss on my lips.

  ‘Am I going to be confronted with the fact that my daughter’s having sex all weekend?’ Dad asked as he walked in, forcing us to break apart.

  ‘Sorry, sir. I was hoping to make a better impression this time around.’ Weston quickly slipped his arm from my shoulder and grabbed my hand instead.

  ‘Well, you have some making up to do after the last meeting and the whole car incident.’

  ‘Dad, honestly, I’ve already apologised for both events. Can’t you let it go?’

  ‘So, Weston, why exactly do you carry a penknife in your back pocket?’ Dad asked.

  ‘Habit, I guess. You never know when you might need it for something. I’ve lost track of the times I’ve read that someone was trapped in their car after an accident by a seat belt that wouldn’t come undone. It’s reassuring to know that I have a knife to free myself, or someone else, if necessary.’

  ‘Georgie told me you’re ex-forces.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Army,’ Weston replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  ‘What was your job in the Army?’

  ‘Captain, but I’m … I’m afraid I can’t disclose anything else.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to break any security protocols, I’m just interested what sort of thing you did,’ Dad prodded. ‘Intelligence, front line, ammunitions?’

  ‘Dad, Weston already said that he’s not at liberty to discuss his past,’ I said firmly, squeezing Weston’s hand tightly. ‘It’s done and dusted and he’s set up his own business now as a personal trainer.’

  ‘A what?’ Mum’s disbelieving, high-pitched exclamation came seconds before the crash of the teapot and cups and saucers as they hit the floor. The dark Darjeeling started doing a front crawl across her pristine white carpet as I groaned. Dad shot up and rushed over to help her as Weston let out a heavy sigh.

  ‘Still think it’s going great?’ he asked.

  The rest of the day didn’t go any better, and the night was even worse. Mum was frantic over her ruined carpet, Weston couldn’t stop apologising, Dad was downright rude about his choice of career, and I ended up snapping at my parents, saying if they couldn’t be civil to the man I was in love with, then we’d grab our bags and leave. While the derogatory remarks and sideways looks stopped, there was still a heavy and oppressive atmosphere during dinner, so we made our excuses for an early night and Dad chaperoned Weston to his own room at the far end of the house.

  I lay in my bed waiting for Weston to sneak in, but half an hour after the time we’d agreed, I lost patience. I got up, headed across my room in the dark, and cracked the door open. There were no lights on, and it was so quiet you’d have been able to hear a cricket rubbing his wings together ready to chirp. It seemed everyone had decided on an early night. I tiptoed across the hall to the bathroom first, checking my appearance and adjusting my new, seductive, red lingerie before fluffing out my hair. I slipped back into the corridor and inched my way to the guest room, hastily opening and closing the door behind me as I heard the dogs starting to bark downstairs.

  ‘Hey, what happened to you?’ I whispered as I made my way to the bed in the dark. ‘Weston? Are you asleep already?’ I cursed as I stubbed my toe on the bedside table while reaching for the lamp.

  I blinked a few times as the soft peach bulb slowly lit up the room. His bed was empty, but, ever the regimented soldier, he’d straightened the duvet on it when he’d got out. I peeled it back and slipped inside, feeling warmth where he must have been lying only moments before. Maybe he’d gone downstairs for a glass of water first. I arranged myself in as seductive a pose as possible as I waited for him to return. Five minutes later, I was on my side checking my watch. Maybe he’d come back up and gone to my bedroom while I was lying here waiting in his room.

  I got up, turned off the light, and stumbled my way over to the door, everything seeming even darker than before after getting used to the light. Mum had closed the shutters on the windows in the hall, so there wasn’t even a slither of moonlight to illuminate the way. I passed the stairs, dragging my fingers along the wall to try and count the number of doors. I let out a startled cry as I bumped straight into a warm, hard body and he grunted.

  ‘Wes
ton, you just scared me to death. I waited for you for ages, then went to your room. I need some serious tension relief after today, I hope you’re in the mood for long and hard tonight,’ I giggled, reaching down to cup him firmly.

  ‘For the love of God, Georgie, are you trying to finish me off early?’ Dad’s voice snapped as he slammed his hand on the wall and flipped on the light switch.

  ‘Oh. My. God,’ I squealed, backing off as fast as I could, one arm flying to protect my chest, the other my privates. ‘Dad! What the hell?’

  ‘I could ask you the same. The silent house alarm alert on my phone woke me up and I came down to see what was going on. Get changed, you’ll give your mother a heart attack if she sees you wearing that or finds out you’ve smuggled him into your room. I’ve got to say I’m very disappointed in the behaviour of both of you this evening.’

  ‘Well, I’m disappointed in you both too!’ I shot back, giving him the glare that usually made Abbie wilt. ‘He’s done nothing wrong, he’s just tried to make you both like him, and you’ve been downright rude and condescending. And if I’d known, at the age of thirty, I wouldn’t be allowed to share a bed with my boyfriend, I’d have booked the bed and breakfast in the village. I’m a woman, Dad, not a little girl, and I’m sick of being treated like one.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Mum’s voice sliced through the atmosphere as she padded down from the top floor. I shot Dad another glare and headed into my room, turned on the lights, and slammed the door behind me.

  ‘Weston?’ My bed was exactly as I’d left it, with the duvet thrown back, and there was no sign of him. I threw my jeans and a jumper over my nightwear and stuffed the rest of my overnight things in my bag. I’d had enough, we were going home right now. I stormed out to an empty landing and headed to the guest room, only to find that still empty. I left my case next to his and went to knock on the bathroom door. ‘Weston?’

  When there was no answer, I tried the handle and swung the door open to reveal that it was empty. I could hear a commotion downstairs, including the dogs barking frantically, so I ran down to find out what was happening.

  ‘I’m telling you to call the police,’ Mum urged as they stood on each side of the front door, peering out through the glass side panels. ‘It’s a burglar.’

  ‘Wearing just a pair of boxer shorts and heading away from the house? I don’t think so,’ Dad scoffed.

  ‘What’s going on? Where’s Weston?’ I demanded.

  ‘I’d say outside, as he obviously wasn’t in his room,’ Dad replied, shooting a disapproving look at me over his shoulder.

  ‘In just his boxers? Let me see.’ I elbowed him out of the way and put my hands up against the glass, then gasped. Sure enough, there he was, weaving his way unsteadily up the drive in just a pair of tight black boxer briefs. I’d know his sculpted body anywhere. ‘How did he get out?’ I asked as I made short work of the locks on the door.

  ‘The system was showing the lounge window had been tampered with. I closed it when I came down after checking nothing was missing.’

  I ignored a barrage of questions and started to run up the drive, guided by the low-level motion-activated lighting. It was seriously cold, there was already a sheen of shimmering frost showing on the blades of grass. What was he doing out here in his underwear?

  ‘Weston,’ I called as I started gaining on him. He seemed to pause for a moment, then carried on with his unsteady gait. ‘Weston, stop!’ I yelled. He ground to a halt and swayed on the spot.

  ‘Georgie?’ His voice sounded sleepy and confused, though not as confused as I was feeling right now.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ I asked as I made it to his side and reached for his hand.

  ‘Where am I? What’s going on?’ His face was vacant as he blinked a few times and tried to take in his surroundings.

  ‘We’re at my parents’ house. For some reason, you climbed out of the lounge window and came for a barefoot and nearly naked walk. Are you ok?’ I reached up to palm his face with my free hand and swept my thumb repeatedly over his angular cheekbone as he let out a series of uncharacteristic expletives while he shook his head, his eyes heavy with sleep. Something here wasn’t right and I had a feeling it had to do with his near panic attack earlier. He was unsettled here, as unsettled as I felt. ‘Come on, let’s go and get you changed. I’m taking you home, back to Dilbury. I think you were sleepwalking.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly, pulling his hand from mine and scrubbing it over his face and up into his hair. ‘God damn it, I’m so sorry, Georgie.’

  ‘It’s ok. I think today has been too much and stressed you out. I had no idea you sleepwalked, so even if you don’t want to talk about it now, we’ll have to the next time you come to sleep over so I know what to do if it happens again.’

  ‘We can’t leave, it would be rude. And I’m so tired, I’m not sure I’m in a fit state to drive,’ he murmured against my hair as I pulled him into a tight embrace.

  ‘I’ll drive, and as they’ve been rude since we arrived, tough if they take offence. Besides, I bumped into Dad in the corridor in the dark, thought it was you, cupped his groin, and told him how I wanted him to do me. So the sooner we leave, the happier I think everyone will be.’

  ‘Oh no,’ he laughed. I started laughing too and buried my face against his cold, hard chest.

  ‘Yeah, the weekend definitely could have gone better, but I’m leaving with you, not leaving you, Weston.’

  ‘What did I do to deserve you, Georgie?’ he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

  ‘You’ve just been yourself.’

  Two hours later, we were curled up in my bed, Weston’s head on my chest as I held him close and fingered his soft hair, lulling him into a deep and peaceful sleep. He said sleepwalking was a manifestation of his PTSD when he got stressed, but it hadn’t happened for a long time. He was so confused, he’d told me that he’d had to get up at three a.m. to make it to mine for nine o’clock, but it was only a forty-minute drive from Tibberton. It was obvious he hadn’t slept well and it was affecting him.

  He felt guilty his sleepwalking had happened at the worst possible time. I felt guilty for putting him into a situation where he’d felt so stressed at the need to impress my parents that he’d regressed. There was plenty of guilt going around, except, it seemed, on my parents’ part. I’d expected to arrive to at least a voicemail apology for their behaviour, but there was none. Not even a text.

  Chapter Ten

  Confronting Demons

  New Year’s Eve

  MY JUMPER WAS A stunning shade of turquoise, which Weston loved me in. He said it made my eyes even more beautiful and alive than normal. I’d paired it with some skin-tight black jeans and a sexy pair of strappy skyscraper heels. I couldn’t wait to see him, I was really missing him. We’d spent Christmas apart, exchanging calls daily. He’d been with his parents, whom I’d yet to meet, but after the disaster of our last meeting with mine, I wasn’t in a rush to make matters worse by pushing to meet his. I was even desperate to see Bertie, it felt like forever since he’d come over with Weston. I was looking forward to a quiet night in, a few movies in front of the fire, cuddles with Bertie, and a bottle or two of wine with a takeaway.

  I felt a buzz of excitement flow through my veins, making all of the fine hairs on my arms stand to attention, as I heard a car pull into my drive. I quickly stoked the fire, pulled the guard around it, and rushed to the front door.

  ‘Bertie,’ I cried, crouching and opening my arms. He bounded over and leapt at me, his tongue lashing every bare inch of skin he could find on me. ‘Hello, baby boy.’

  ‘Seriously, is it me or the dog you love more?’ Weston asked with a chuckle as he walked up the path and dropped his bag on the doorstep.

  ‘I’ve not seen him in forever,’ I objected, lifting the small bulldog up and kissing his forehead. ‘Have you missed me?’ I asked him.

  ‘Terribly,’ Weston confirmed, scooping Bertie out of my grasp
with one hand while he used the other to tug me up, then slid it behind my head as he gave me a welcome and long overdue kiss. ‘Hey, gorgeous.’

  ‘Hey, you,’ I breathed, feeling my stomach flutter at his nickname for me. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Better for kissing you. But I think I need more kisses, just to be sure.’

  ‘Just to be sure,’ I agreed, tugging him back to me by his hair and losing myself in a fiery and passionate kiss.

  ‘I’d shout “Get a room,” but it’s not like you need to go far,’ Charlie yelled, forcing us apart. Weston coughed and scooped up his bag while I quickly wiped my mouth and turned to see her grinning at us over the hedge.

  ‘Hey, Charlie,’ Weston called, giving her a swift salute and disappearing inside with Bertie.

  ‘So freakin’ hot to watch,’ Charlie said as she fanned her face.

  ‘Try being on the receiving end, I think he just incinerated my underwear. What are you doing out in the garden at this time?’

  ‘I got excited when I heard a car pull up, I thought it was Kitt with my pizza delivery.’

  ‘I still find it hilarious that you’ve ended up such good friends with the pizza delivery guy,’ I laughed.

  ‘He’s a really nice guy, we’ve become close through my love of pizza.’

  ‘Anyway, why are you having pizza delivered? I thought you’d be out painting the town red with Quinn on New Year’s Eve.’ Miller’s twin sister had moved over here, and she and Charlie had become as inseparable as Abbie and I were.

  ‘She decided to go over to New York to see her old friends,’ Charlie shrugged. ‘She asked me to go with her, but I have a deadline to meet.’

  ‘All work and no play,’ I reminded her.

  ‘I know, I know, but now that I’m traditionally published, I’ve got to keep up my end of the deal.’

  ‘You can come and join Weston and me, we were just going to have a quiet night in,’ I offered, even though the thought of sharing my precious time with him nearly killed me.

  ‘Nah,’ she replied, flicking her hand at me. ‘It’s sweet of you to offer, but you don’t see much of each other as it is, go get loved up. Anyway, Kitt’s coming down the lane with my pizza and I didn’t order enough for all of us, and you know how I hate to share my food.’