The Great Escape

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  He was walking me back through to the pub before I even had a chance to wish Tony a happy New Year myself.

  ‘What in the world was that about?’ I asked, looking up at him as he hustled me towards the exit.

  ‘Nothing to worry about,’ he replied, flashing me a smile as he snaked an arm around my waist and drew to a sudden halt.

  ‘Ermmm, hello, Georgie, long time no see.’ Greg’s nervous voice made me snap my head around to see he was blocking our exit.

  ‘Personally, I’d have loved it to be much longer, Greg. Preferably never.’

  ‘Ok, I guess I deserved that.’

  ‘Trust me, on the list of things you deserve, a snarky remark is very low in priority,’ I shot back. He grimaced and quickly reached up to drag a finger around the inside of his t-shirt collar. He was nervous, that was something he always did when he was nervous. As he dampened his lower lip and shot a quick look over at Weston before looking back at me, I wondered what I ever saw in him. I felt nothing for him, except a residual feeling of anger. But even that was dissipating. If he hadn’t treated me so badly, I might not have been single when I met Weston. ‘What do you want, Greg?’ I sighed, putting my arm around Weston and sliding my hand into his back pocket.

  ‘I wanted, no, I needed to apologise to you, Georgie. What I did to you was … reprehensible. I treated you appallingly by cheating on you and letting everyone think it was the other way around, and for that I’m more sorry than you could ever imagine. I was … weak and unworthy of a woman as magnificent as you. And I spend every day regretting letting you slip through my fingers. No one will ever compare. Rowena was just … she was easy and I couldn’t resist her when she threw herself at me, but she’ll never replace you in my heart. You were always too good for me,’ he stated with seeming sincerity, though his voice was wobbling as he spoke. I frowned. It also didn’t sound like him speaking, it was like he was repeating words from a script.

  ‘You arsehole!’ screamed Rowena as she snuck up to him and tossed her pint of cider in his face, a chorus of gasps rising from the silent pub patrons, who were all watching the Dilbury soap opera unfurl. ‘I heard every word of that. I always said you were a spineless idiot. Well, now you’ve let me slip through your fingers too.’

  ‘Baby, don’t be so hasty,’ he spluttered, as I watched in shock.

  ‘Don’t “baby” me. You told me that I was the love of your life and now you’re talking to her like she was. You said she was nothing to you.’

  ‘I … I …’ Greg stuttered as he quickly looked over at Weston again, his face pale and clammy, then nodded. ‘I made a mistake, Rowena. Georgie’s one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I shouldn’t have been blinded by your … your ...’

  ‘My what?’ she demanded. He ran his fingers around the inside of his collar again and gulped hard before opening his mouth and saying something so quietly, none of us heard it. ‘My what, Greg?’

  ‘Sluttiness,’ he forced out with a grimace.

  ‘Sluttiness?’ she shrieked as she flew at him, her long pointy fingernails poised to strike. I hissed as Weston quickly stepped back, taking me with him. Rowena knocked Greg to the floor and proceeded to beat him up while he screamed like a girl and tried to protect his face as some of the locals started to laugh at the unexpected show.

  ‘Out, both of you,’ roared Tony as he strode over and hauled her up, kicking and screaming, off a hysterical Greg. ‘Rowena, you’re fired. I won’t have customers attacked in my pub and this is the last in a long list of reasons I’ve been wanting to use to get rid of you. You’re nothing but trouble, coming on to all of the men who come in here.’

  ‘I don’t need this stupid job anyway, stuck here in the middle of nowhere. Dilbury my arse. Stupid name for a stupid boring village. It should be called Dulbury.’ She shot me a glare as she straightened her short skirt, so short I wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t actually a belt, then ran her hands over her hair. She glared down at Greg and kicked him once more for good measure in the side before stalking out of the pub.

  ‘Here, take my hand,’ Weston offered as Greg trembled on the floor. He nodded hesitantly and Weston hauled him up, then gripped the front of his t-shirt as he eyeballed him, before releasing it and patting it down. ‘It was nice of you to apologise to Georgie for cheating on her in front of all these people. I’m sorry you got dumped in such a public and humiliating manner, but I think you’re well rid of that one. She seems like a bit of a bunny boiler to me. I heard you’re not the first guy she’s stolen away from his partner. She’d likely have cheated on you too at some point. Looks like she did you a favour.’

  ‘Yeah … yes,’ Greg nodded, looking down at the floor as he sniffed.

  My eyes were darting from Weston to Greg as I tried to work out what the hell was going on here. Admittedly, Greg had never been a macho guy, but equally I’d never seen him so scared and defeated.

  ‘Come on then, gorgeous, our boy will be waiting at home for us. Happy New Year all,’ he called as he walked me out, my mouth still ajar at all of the drama.

  ‘What just happened in there?’

  ‘Karma, I’d say,’ Weston grinned as he gripped my hand and led me around the side of the pub.

  ‘Weston Argent, why do I think you had something to do with that?’ I demanded.

  ‘Beats me,’ he shrugged.

  ‘No secrets,’ I reminded him, digging my heels in as he tried to keep walking and pulling my hand from his.

  ‘Fine. I may have had a quiet word in his ear and suggested that you were overdue an apology, and said what words he might consider using, and that he might be better dumping a girl who was prepared to steal another woman’s man, that’s all.’ He gave me an annoyingly attractive half-smile as he turned to face me, and I crossed my arms over my chest as I scowled at him.

  ‘That’s all? That’s all?! You spoke to him for all of sixty seconds. What can you have possibly said to make him publicly humiliate himself by grovelling to me and insulting his girlfriend to such an extent that she dumped him?’

  ‘I can be very persuasive when I want to be,’ he replied. He pulled his penknife out and cocked his head as his smile spread, then juggled the red and silver knife from one hand to another. He flicked out the razor-sharp blade and ran his thumb over it before snapping it shut and shoving it back into his back pocket as I waited patiently for an answer. ‘It’s amazing what a blade between the thighs, close to your manhood, will make a man agree to. I did stab it a bit forcefully into the leather seat though.’

  ‘That’s why you paid Tony for a stool. Weston!’ I exclaimed, swatting his arm as he burst out laughing. ‘You can’t go around threatening all of my ex-boyfriends’ ability to procreate.’

  ‘Exactly how many ex-boyfriends are there?’ he demanded, a dark, jealous shadow crossing his face.

  ‘Not the point.’

  ‘He got the point. I promised not to cause any trouble and I didn’t. He could have chosen to say nothing, but he didn’t.’

  ‘I can’t believe a penknife between his legs made him not only apologise, but inadvertently dump her as well.’

  ‘I may also have told him that I know of over fifty ways to dispose of a body without leaving any trace of evidence.’ He winked at me and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘You’re so bad.’

  ‘Bad, but still loveable?’

  ‘Still loveable,’ I nodded as I grabbed his waistcoat and tugged him towards me, then kissed him. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m not sure I can go out with a girl who condones veiled threats against her exes,’ he replied, his arms holding me in a tight and welcome embrace.

  ‘I think the word you’re looking for is outright threats. And I’m not sure I can go out with a guy who publicly humiliates my exes, and their hussies, then makes sure I can walk back into my local with my head held high and no fear of bumping into them again,’ I exhaled against his lips.

  ‘You. Promised. Y
ou’d. Never. Leave,’ he answered, puncturing each word with a fast, hard kiss.

  ‘Actually. That. Was. Your. Promise,’ I replied, doing the same.

  ‘Then make me the same one, Georgie. I know I’m not the easiest guy to go out with. I’m guarded, and I don’t share parts of my life that I know you wish I would. But no one else will love you as fiercely as I do, or do as much to protect you.’

  ‘I promise,’ I whispered, blinking back some tears at his impassioned declaration and what he’d just done to make sure I’d received an apology.

  ‘I need to hear you say the words.’

  ‘I promise to never leave,’ I repeated. ‘Just don’t do something to make me break that promise, ok?’

  ‘Ok,’ he nodded, after a brief hesitation. ‘Come on, let’s get home.’

  He grabbed my hand and we headed back the way we’d come, guided by the moon and a myriad of stars that twinkled down on us. I breathed in the crisp air as we walked in silence. It was nearly the beginning of a New Year and I had a feeling that things were only going to get better from here on out. I snuck a curious look at the man walking at my side and felt my heart skip a beat. I’d never loved anyone the way that I loved Weston. I just wished I knew him better. I had a feeling I probably knew him as well as he’d allowed anyone to know him. But I wanted all of him, the way I’d given him all of me.

  ‘Looks like Charlie’s sharing her pizza after all,’ I observed as we passed her drive and saw Kitt’s car still parked outside.

  ‘I thought she was into the doctor,’ Weston asked, sounding puzzled.

  ‘Oh, she definitely is. Just because a woman invites a man inside doesn’t mean there’s anything there other than friendship.’

  ‘Trust me, any man who’s invited inside thinks the exact opposite.’ He released my hand and swung the front gate open for me.

  ‘You don’t think men and women can just be friends?’ I asked, giving him a surprised look.

  ‘I think women like to imagine they can, whereas men see it as a precursor to sex.’

  ‘Abbie and Heath are good friends, and they’ve never had sex,’ I reminded him as he reached in his front pocket for his keys. I’d relented and had a key safe installed, and had an extra key cut for him for when he came over.

  ‘Maybe, but I guarantee if he doesn’t now, that at one point he wanted it.’

  ‘Honestly,’ I huffed, rolling my eyes.

  ‘What? Men are programmed to react to an attractive woman, even more so if she shows an interest in them.’

  ‘I think we’ve evolved enough that men aren’t just cavemen with clubs who beat their chests and drag a woman back to their cave anymore, Weston. Not everything is about sex, you know.’

  ‘How are we suddenly on the verge of an argument?’ he asked, holding his hands up in surrender. ‘I was just stating an opinion.’

  ‘Well, men are stupid sometimes. What’s wrong with being honest with a girl? If you don’t want to be friends and just want sex, you should say that. There’s plenty of women out there, like Rowena, who would be up for that. What’s wrong with just being honest with people?’ I grabbed the keys out of his hands and jabbed the right one in the lock as I felt my temper flare uncharacteristically. If people were honest with each other, it would save so much heartache.

  ‘Georgie, in the spirit of honesty, I really need to say something and I need you to–’

  ‘Bertie, what’s the matter?’ I cried as I heard a pitiful howl from behind the door. I quickly pushed it open and gasped. He was sitting in the hall with a subdued face and sad puppy eyes, feathers all over his head and body, looking like a freakish cross between a white barn owl and a bulldog. There was also a trail of toilet paper streaming from his front paw all the way into the kitchen and out of sight. He rushed forward with a whimper and flung himself at my legs. I quickly caught him and lifted him up, carefully pulling the toilet paper off his claw. All of them were well overdue a trim. I tried to pick the feathers off his face, which was wet and sticky and smelled suspiciously like alcohol.

  ‘What the hell?’ Weston asked as he stepped inside and saw the state of him.

  I raised my eyebrows as I shook my head and stepped into the lounge as Weston shut the front door and tossed his keys on the hall table.

  ‘Oh. My. God. Baby boy, what did you do?’ I gasped as I took in the carnage in front of me. The glasses of white wine had been knocked off the coffee table, their contents all over my nice cream carpet. In spite of our assumptions that he couldn’t jump up onto furniture, he’d proved us completely wrong. He’d decimated all of my silk cushions. It looked like a chicken serial killer had been at work, there were simply hundreds of feathers everywhere. The table lamp had been knocked onto the floor and was in pieces, and he’d managed to chew through the cable. I clutched him closer to my chest, my heart racing at the thought that he could have been electrocuted, as I spotted he’d also had a go at the cables underneath the TV cabinet. I looked down at Bertie and he whimpered and nosed his way into my armpit to hide his face. He knew he’d been naughty.

  ‘Jesus,’ Weston muttered as he stepped in and took in the destruction. ‘Why the hell would he do this?’

  ‘Because he was upset. We left him all alone.’

  ‘We’ve left him alone before,’ Weston reminded me.

  ‘Once, when he was asleep and we nipped up to the shop. We were twenty minutes at the most, not three hours like tonight, when he was wide awake when we left him. I dread to think what he’s done in the rest of the house. Just tell me he hasn’t learned to climb the stairs yet.’

  ‘Not that I know of. What’s that smell?’

  ‘He’s covered in wine and goodness knows what else. He’s never done anything like this when you’ve left him alone before?’

  ‘He’s never on his own, he’s always looked after.’

  ‘I guess you drop him at your mum’s or a sitter’s when you go to work,’ I nodded.

  ‘Well, a quiet, relaxing night and seduction on the sofa is out while it stays in this state. I’ll try and tidy up, why don’t you take him to the parlour and give him a bath?’ Weston suggested, undoing the buttons on his shirt cuffs and rolling up his sleeves.

  ‘Ok,’ I sighed, giving Bertie’s neck a gentle massage to reassure him that he wasn’t about to be punished. He was just acting out like a teenager, and while I hadn’t done that, I’d seen plenty of girls at boarding school do it. ‘I’m sorry, you were going to say something outside before he interrupted us, and I had a feeling it was important.’

  ‘No,’ Weston replied with a tight-lipped smile. ‘It can wait. You’d better get him in the bath before he gets drunk on the fumes. It’s not quite eleven. If we work fast, we might even be able to snuggle up in time to see the New Year in, all three of us.’

  ‘All three of us,’ I agreed, giving him a quick kiss before picking my way through the mess in the kitchen and heading for the dog parlour with a sigh as I looked back down at the state of Bertie. This time his eyes twinkled and he lifted his head to lick my jaw, making me laugh. ‘Now I know I’ve fallen in love with you too, Bertie, in spite of your awful behaviour today. Men,’ I uttered with a shake of my head. I decided to call Abbie to wish her an early happy New Year as I spruced him up, knowing she’d get a kick out of my entertaining evening.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trouble In Paradise

  Five Months Later – A Sunday in May

  ‘I GUESS I’D BETTER make a move,’ Weston sighed as he checked his watch.

  ‘I feel like you only just got here,’ I said, checking mine to see that, as usual, it was only three p.m.

  ‘Sorry, it’s just I have–’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ I interrupted, uncoupling myself from his embrace on the sofa and abruptly standing up. ‘You have work to prep for and a “long drive,”’ I air quoted. I grabbed the empty coffee cups off the table and stormed out of the room, heading into the safety of the kitchen, where I hoped to give myself a mome
nt to calm down before he came to say goodbye. No such luck.

  ‘What’s this supposed to mean?’ he demanded, mimicking my finger quotes.

  ‘Sarcasm, you’re not familiar with it?’ I retorted as I slammed the cups down into my butler sink, managing to shatter one and cut my finger.

  ‘For God’s sake, Georgie. What the hell’s wrong with you?’ he demanded. He snatched my hand, put my bleeding finger in his mouth, and sucked it slowly, almost making me melt against him until I remembered why I was angry.

  ‘You! You’re what’s wrong with me,’ I snapped, ripping my finger out of his mouth and grabbing a sheet of kitchen paper to wrap around it. ‘You live up the road, it’s not like you have to disappear dead on three p.m. every single Sunday. Especially not this weekend, when I didn’t see you Friday or Saturday.’

  ‘You knew I had that stag party to go to last night, I told you about it weeks ago. Seriously, what’s going on with you?’ he asked with an incredulous look on his face as I glared at him.

  ‘I’m on, my stomach is bloated, my back hurts, I’m hormonal and irritable as it is, and this racing off at three o’clock each Sunday is starting to do my head in.’

  ‘I can’t help that I have a life outside of our relationship, Georgie,’ he sighed, as he rummaged in the under-sink cupboard for the first aid kit he’d purchased and stowed there.

  ‘And there it is,’ I huffed, still glaring at him as he came up brandishing some antiseptic lotion and a plaster. ‘You have a life that I know nothing about, Weston.’

  ‘That’s unfair. With the exception of my parents and my therapist, you know more about me than anyone, Georgie. Give me your hand.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘I won’t ask again. Give. Me. Your. Hand,’ he barked, returning my scowl with an equally fierce one. He wrapped his fingers gently around my wrist and yanked me towards him, not letting go of his grip as I struggled to pull my hand from his grasp.

  ‘How long have we been dating?’ I demanded, giving up the fight as he removed the blood-soaked kitchen towel and smeared the antiseptic on the cut, making me hiss as it stung.