by Carrie Elks
But now, she could feel her whole body tingling as she pushed her tongue against his lips, dancing along the skin until he parted them and touched it with his own. He kissed her back until they were both finding it hard to breathe. She didn’t pull away. Instead she put her hand around his head and pulled him closer until she could feel her lungs start to burn.
It was Richard who broke the kiss, unable to speak through his harsh breaths. A flush of embarrassment covered his cheekbones when he glanced down and saw his erection was digging in to her hip.
“I’m sorry.” He could barely meet her eyes as he spoke, instead gazing over her shoulder at the blue wallpaper.
Hanna silently placed her hand under his chin, adjusting his face until his gaze met hers. She watched as a look of confusion washed over his features. When she was sure he was looking at her, she leaned in again, brushing her lips gently against his, increasing the pressure until he could feel the desperation seeping through her every pore.
Her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it from his pants. She reached inside and touched the skin of his stomach. The sensation of her gentle hands against his abdomen did nothing to calm his reaction to her, making him almost painfully hard.
She unbuttoned his shirt, pulling at his trousers, peeling her own pajamas off with shaking hands. Her heart raced as she felt her flesh against his, her response to his naked body visceral and intense.
“Are you sure? I feel like I’m forcing myself on you,” Richard whispered.
Hanna pulled him on top of her, her hands reaching for him, circling around him as she tried to line him up with her body. “You’ve got that the wrong way round.” Her eyes closed as she felt him enter her, gliding through her until he was all the way in. “I need this, Richard. I need you, please don’t stop.”
Thirteen
July 3rd 2005
Hanna wore her despair like an iron blanket pressing down on her body; it comforted and caused pain in equal measure, yet was somehow reassuring in its relentless misery. Like the sun rising, she could rely on it being her constant companion during daylight hours. And at night, while she lay curled up on her childhood bed, she let the hurt consume her as strangled cries fought their way out of her mouth, her hands curled up into fists as if she could somehow fight the anguish off.
It was a battle she couldn’t win.
For the first month after Diana’s death, it seemed right and proper that she should mourn her mother, and she didn’t give a second thought to the way she felt. Richard had returned to New York a week after the funeral, begging her to join him, but the memories of Diana and the need to settle her estate anchored Hanna to London. During their separation, she felt increasingly alone, unable to answer his calls or return his emails without breaking down, finding excuses to prevent him visiting her. She wanted to conquer her depression on her own without him ever finding out just how low she felt.
But as time went on, and the flowering bulbs of spring gave way to early summer heat, her misery continued unabated. She only left the flat for the most pressing of reasons, and even then she found herself rushing back home as soon as she could.
By June, things had reached an all-time low. She turned down any social invitations, and made every excuse not to meet with the Larsens or speak with Richard. Being with them reminded her of everything she had lost, and the jealousy she felt whenever she saw their tight, family unit consumed her. She hated herself for it.
At work, she was given a warning for lateness and absenteeism. With every word that her editor said, she had found herself nodding and agreeing with him; she was lackadaisical, uncaring, and unprofessional, and his poor opinion of her only confirmed that she was right in having an equally low opinion of herself.
Now it was 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning, and she was still half-asleep, her hair dull and greasy. Her ten-day old pajamas were in desperate need of a wash. The knocking on her door was an accompanying sound to her misery, like the backbeat of a drum, and she didn’t even have enough energy to drag herself out of bed to answer it.
Then the shouting started.
“I know you’re in there, Hanna, open up!” The voice carried across the hallway and into Hanna’s room and she closed her eyes in the hope that whoever it was would go away. Just as she snuggled back into her soft, feather pillow, she heard a key turn in the lock, then the bang of the door as it hit the wall.
Clearly she had company.
She could hear the footsteps as her visitor walked across the hall, each click becoming louder as they approached her bedroom. A sense of resignation washed over her as she realized that she would have to face whoever it was, and try to get them out of her apartment as quickly as possible. Didn’t they know she wanted to be left alone?
“Jesus, it stinks in here.” Ruby wrinkled her nose up as she walked into the bedroom, immediately glancing over at Hanna and seeing her curled up under three-week old sheets.
“Go away, Ruby.” Even to her own ears, Hanna’s voice sounded monotonous and dull.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve finished my last exam; I’ve got all the time in the world to devote to making you get in the shower.” Ruby wandered over to the window and yanked open the curtains, a soft shower of dust falling from the fabric to the floor below.
Hanna blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust her eyes to the morning light. A scowl covered Ruby’s face and her usually calm demeanor was somehow agitated and nervy, increasing Hanna’s anxiety.
“I just need to go back to sleep. I’m so tired.” Hanna closed her eyes.
“Hanna, we’re so worried about you. You never call Richard; you won’t come and see Mum and Dad. You haven’t texted me once to see how my exams are going, it’s completely unlike you.”
Hanna refrained from responding, because she wanted to tell Ruby that she couldn’t care less how the Larsens were feeling, or how they never heard from her. She was like a cuckoo in the nest, poisoning their happy unit with her misery and jealousy, and they were better off without her.
She was so angry that she didn’t have a mother to hold or love her anymore.
“I’m fine, Ruby. A bit tired, and a bit emotional, but nothing I can’t handle.” Hanna pulled the sheets further up her body, until they were covering her face. Ruby was right; the stench in her bedroom was foul.
“You’re not fine.” Ruby’s eyes were getting watery, and her voice reflected her mood. “You’re anything but fine. Please let me help you.”
“I just need to close my eyes. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“Have you at least gone to see a therapist?”
“There’s no point. I know what’s wrong with me; I just can’t bring myself to care.”
“Why won’t you call Richard? He’s going out of his mind.” Ruby’s face started to crumple; she sucked her lips inside her mouth, biting down on them with her teeth.
“I don’t know what to say,” Hanna whispered. Each night, she fell asleep with his name on her lips, and awoke in the early hours of the morning with the thought of him squeezing her heart like a vice.
“He loves you, Hanna. He’s going out of his mind.”
“He’s better off without me. I’ll just bring him down, too.” She let her head fall back to the pillow and closed her eyes.
“Let him come over and see you, he’s desperate.”
“I can’t.” The tears that came so easily nowadays were bubbling over from Hanna’s eyes. She kept her lids tightly shut as if she could somehow cage them in.
In five months of sleepless nights, she had spent so much time thinking about her relationship with him, and still couldn’t see a way forward. They had spent some time together—always when he flew over to see her for a stolen weekend—but it wasn’t enough to solve any of her dilemmas. She was never going to fit into his life in New York, no matter how much she tried to change and adapt.
They were at an impasse; there was nowhere for them to go but downhill. She wouldn’t live in New York, and he
was unable to live in London. One of them was going to have to break the cycle.
She wasn’t sure if she was strong enough.
TWO WEEKS LATER, she was taping up the final box when the buzzer signaled the arrival of the removal company. Hanna was pleasantly surprised to see they were fifteen minutes early, and she pulled the door open wide to let them in.
Her heart dropped as soon as she saw Richard leaning on the doorjamb, his hand raking through his hair. His suit was so disheveled, it looked like he’d spent the night in it.
She supposed he had.
“What are you doing here?”
Richard barged through the door, taking in the piles of boxes stacked in the hall. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, holding up an envelope. His tone was soft but his words were harsh, and she winced upon hearing them. “You tried to break off with me in a letter?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you…”
“How about the phone. Or even wait for me to visit you. A fucking letter?” His face was bright red. He lifted the paper up and started to tear it into strips. “What the hell were you thinking…?” His voice trailed off as he looked around the room, taking in the boxes for the first time. “Are you moving?”
Hanna slowly shook her head.
Coming to a stop in front of her, Richard reached out to touch her face, and she found herself stepping backward.
“Then what’s happening?” His voice was too quiet.
“I’m leaving London, I’m planning to travel.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Were you just going to disappear?”
“I’ve written you a letter.” She felt nauseous, and tried to will her body to calm down. She couldn’t show him that she was falling apart.
“Another fucking letter?” His voice cracked. “Don’t do this, baby, please.”
Oh God, she was going to cry, or throw up, maybe both. She ran to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and turning the lock behind her. For the longest time she knelt on the cold tiled floor, her head bent over the bowl of the toilet, her body heaving. Her hands were shaking as she braced herself against the basin.
When she emerged, he was standing outside, his cell phone in his hand, shouting orders down the mouthpiece. He must have let the removal company in—there were men everywhere; dressed in overalls and carrying boxes and furniture out to the van they had parked in the middle of the street.
Hanna watched as they maneuvered her bed and mattress out of the front door. More than anything she wanted to climb back inside and bury herself under her duvet, and put herself in storage alongside her belongings.
Richard was following her every move as he stood in the middle of the room unsmiling, his green eyes staring directly at her. It was unnerving.
“I catch a flight from Heathrow tomorrow,” she blurted out, just to shatter his silence.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m flying into Sydney.”
“I’ll come and visit you.”
“No!” Her reply was firm. “I need to do this alone.”
“I can’t agree to that.” Any sense of anger had left his voice. Hanna realized that, despite being in the pit of despair, she was the one who was going to have to be strong.
“I’m not worth it.”
His voice was little more than a whisper. “You’re more than worth it, this will never be over.”
Walking over to him, she wrapped her thin arms around his waist, pressing the side of her face into his chest, unsure which of them was shaking more. Tilting her chin to look at his face, she watched the tears streaking his cheeks, mirroring her own, and she stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips to his mouth.
Falling back on her heels, she walked over and picked up her bag, pulling the strap over her shoulder as she made her way to the front door.
She couldn’t look at him again, knowing that to see his expression would change her mind. Instead, she closed her eyes, keeping her hand on the door handle as she swung it open, waiting for the creaking sound to stop to make sure he could hear her.
“I’m so sorry, Richard.”
Fourteen
March 4th 2006
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Richard looked his stepbrother straight in the eye, searching for any sign he was wavering. Daniel lifted a glass to his mouth with shaking hands, his lips twitching as he swallowed. Over the past year, his nervous tics had increased; now Richard wasn’t sure what movements were intended and what weren’t.
“I don’t want to be part of it anymore; I can’t even walk into the building. Heck, I can’t even be in Manhattan without having a panic attack.” Daniel’s batophobia had started suddenly, after he had left rehab and attempted to stay clean. The first time he had tried to walk into the Maxwell Enterprises lobby, he’d collapsed on the ground and been taken away by ambulance.
It was almost impossible to live in Manhattan when you had a gripping fear of tall buildings.
“What are you going to do with all that money?” Richard asked.
“I’m going to find somewhere with low buildings and constant sun.” Daniel gave the merest hint of a smile.
“That narrows it down,” Richard had to remind himself that his stepbrother was nearly 23. They had agreed to meet at the Stone Creek Inn on East Quogue, not far from the house Daniel had inherited from his father in the Hamptons. He stayed there intermittently, preferring it to the terrifying trips to Manhattan, although now he had also put this residence up for sale, along with his part of the company.
The rest of the time, Daniel flitted from place to place, staying with friends and acquaintances long enough to wear out his welcome. His drug taking seemed to be irregular although he had already had one stint in rehab this year.
“I want to travel for a while first, see what’s out there. I’m not even sure I want to live in America anymore.”
“What does your girlfriend think of that?” Richard couldn’t remember her name. They tended to change on a monthly basis and were pretty interchangeable: blonde, statuesque, and happy to accept the gifts Daniel lavished on them.
“Marie and I split up. She started talking about engagement rings and buying a house together.” Daniel shuddered visibly. “I suddenly saw my whole life flash before my eyes.”
Richard remained silent, trying not to think as a result of Daniel’s decision, the one who was going to end up like Leon Maxwell was Richard himself.
The avocado salad was well dressed, and they both cleared their plates pretty quickly. Daniel grabbed a roll and smeared it with butter before stuffing it in his mouth.
“Talking of ex-girlfriends, have you heard from Hanna?”
This time it was Richard who took a huge mouthful of wine before placing his glass back down on the crisp, white tablecloth. “Ruby tells me she’s still travelling.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth, either.
“Does she ever contact you?”
“Not really.”
“Maybe I’ll bump into her while I’m travelling, too.” Daniel looked up as the waitress served their main courses, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his steak. “That would be neat.”
Richard coughed, nearly spitting his wine out in the process. He wasn’t sure if the tears it brought to his eyes were from the choking or irritation.
“It’s a big world, Daniel. I’m pretty sure it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“It would be fun, though. I miss her. She was one of the few people I looked forward to seeing when I was stuck in rehab.”
“She visited you twice, three times max. I was there every week.” The corner of Richard’s mouth turned up a little.
“She was memorable. And she used to send me emails.”
The lobster risotto turned to ashes in Richard’s mouth. He remembered the emails, and the texts, and the letters, and the presents. Not to mention their physical reunions.
“I’m pretty
sure she’s not hanging out in a drug den in Marrakesh.”
“Did I hit a sore point?” Daniel dropped his knife onto the floor with a clatter as his arm twitched wildly. He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath as a waitress brought him over a clean one. He gestured to her to pour the last of the red wine into his now empty glass.
Richard shrugged and finished his risotto, carefully placing the cutlery on his empty plate. “It’s not a big deal. Anyway, we’re here to talk about your plans. I need to know where you want the money transferred. As soon as your lawyer gives us the signed papers on Monday, we’ll need to sort out the wire.”
“Just put it in my bank account.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you know how much money you’re getting?”
“I’m not an idiot, Richard. I do have a financial advisor.”
This time, it was Richard’s turn to give a wry smile. Maybe Daniel would be okay after all.
Fifteen
January 20th 2007
The porch had been decorated with balloons and streamers, like a lurid, slightly off-kilter rainbow. Ruby’s name was arched over the door in glittery pink letters. Hanna stood at the bottom of the steps, her nerves getting the better of her, clutching a purple, patterned gift bag. A low throb of music was escaping the house, and flashing disco lights shone through the window, indicating the festivities were in full swing.
She wasn’t sure if she could do this.
Tom had promised he’d be there all night and wouldn’t leave her side for a moment. He had already arrived, having agreed to play a song for Ruby, and needing to set up his equipment. Hanna knew she would only be alone in there for a matter of minutes before she was under his protection.
But minutes were all it would take. She hadn’t seen Claire or Steven since she arrived back in London last November. She was so afraid of what they might say.