Triple Duty
Katie Douglas
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Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Thank you!
Copyright
Triple Duty copyright 2020 Katie Douglas.
All rights reserved.
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Chapter 1
Bex
On the day of my fiancée’s funeral, it poured with rain. I watched the fat raindrops from the chapel, hoping it would ease off by the time we actually buried him. He was thirty years old. Too young to die. I stood alone waiting for the other guests to arrive.
“Put the flowers over there! And more over here. I wanted orchids. Where are the orchids?” The shrill voice of Adam’s mother, Tracy, behind me drowned out the sound of the rain. His parents hoped to make this a big production. The proper send-off that they thought that their son needed to have.
I turned around and my stomach sank as I saw Tracy waving to someone further inside the chapel. Tricia. Adam’s ex-wife. I’d known that she would come, of course, but at the same time I’d been praying that she would be too self-absorbed to actually show up. She would make it all about her problems; her loss, her ex-husband. They’d married young and been separated for years before I met Adam, but she had barely signed the papers three months ago. That’s why I had never been able marry the man I loved.
It was clear she had dressed for the occasion. She looked like one of those Italian women from the Godfather in her big lacy hat and high-heeled Christian Louboutins. Her black suit probably cost more than the coffin that his parents had insisted that Adam needed.
I shouldn’t have been so bitter. This was the day that we had to put him in the ground and my emotions were running high because none of this was what he would have wanted.
Tricia was coming to speak to me. I looked around for anything I could be doing to avoid her gaze, to pretend I hadn’t seen her. Luckily, three huge guys came between me and her. I recognized them as Andy, Matt and Ben, Adam’s mates from the Air Force. They wore their uniforms with pride today. It surprised me because Adam had not been killed in action.
“How’re you doing, Rebecca?” Matt asked. My eyes filled with tears. I didn’t feel like holding them back. If I couldn’t cry at my fiancée’s funeral, when could I? Matt gave me a reassuring hug, while Ben handed me a tissue. I had plenty in my handbag, of course, but the gesture was still appreciated.
“Already got your claws into someone else I see.” Tricia spoke softly as though she had known all along that I was not right for her ex-husband. I opened my mouth and was about to reply when Adam’s parents appeared and swept Tricia away in a wave of family sympathy. It was another move that made me feel like an outsider but honestly, I was just glad Tricia had been distracted.
“She’s still a bitch, I see,” Ben said
“Yeah, that was one reason I was glad when they got divorced,” Matt added.
“Separating Tricia from drama is like separating salt and pepper,” Andy added.
“I just need to get through today, then I never have to see her again,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, positive thinking,” Ben said encouragingly.
We took our places and I stared at a fixed point on the wall at the back of the chapel. The first song began to play, and I hid my face in my scarf because it made me cry all over again.
The readings were the worst part. The only thing worse than having to bury my thirty-year-old fiancée three months before our wedding was watching his mum, dad, and ex-wife somehow make it all about them. We should all be focused on him, today. Tricia talked about what a loss it would be for her.
Not one of them in all the speeches mentioned Adam’s service to his country or his hobbies. I felt a rush of anger beneath my sorrow. I, of course, got side-lined because Adam’s parents never wanted him to be divorced. If they didn’t mention me, they could pretend I never existed and that Adam and Tricia were still together; still close. Of course, that gave Tricia the attention she so desperately craved.
The moment Adam was in the ground, they all sped off to the tea shop that sold artisan cupcakes.
“I can’t believe you managed to book Cupcake Place. It’s usually so busy,” Tricia said to Adam’s mum, who preened and smiled as they walked away.
My legs gave up. I slumped, landing in the mud with a heavy splash, not ready to leave him, not able to walk away from our future together. I stared down at the coffin, which was covered with a few handfuls of soil and some fresh red roses. My heart was shattered. We were supposed to get forever. It was all too much to take in. I threw back my head and screamed. Or, at least, I tried to. My throat was still raw from smoke inhalation and I descended into a fit of loud hacking coughs that seemed to come from my toes.
“She doesn’t know what’s appropriate,” Adam’s mum remarked. I heard their car doors slam. After everything that I’d seen of them, and the fact they’d never visited me in hospital when I was on a ventilator for two days after the fire, I was beginning to suspect they were arseholes.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to deal with this situation, and I imagined Adam was sitting beside me. I felt his arms around me. My eyes snapped open and my first thought was that I was losing the plot, until my eyes focused and I realized it was Matt. Ben and Andy stood behind him looking sad.
“It’s all right, sweetheart, we’re here,” Matt murmured, holding me tight as water seeped in through my skirt.
“How can he be gone? Thirty’s no age to die.” I whispered. “He wasn’t even deployed.”
“I know, I know, it’s going to be all right,” Matt said. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Be brave for us, Rebecca, and get onto your feet.”
“Why? I can’t leave him!” I cried.
“We’re going to go to the reception, because you ought to be there. You two were going to be married and Tricia has no right to be making this day all about her. She wasn’t anything to him when he died.”
With that, the three men corralled me into their waiting car; an Audi A1 in a deep green colour that reminded me of the sea.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess,” Matt said, “Saturday is usually the day I clean my car.”
His car looked spotless. Apparently, Matt was a neat-freak or something.
We drove to the cupcake place in almost silence. Leaving the cemetery, I felt as though I was letting Adam down because I wasn't there. How could I leave him behind like this? But the rest of me knew he was gone. I just really wished he wasn't.
* * *
Bex
At the cupcake place, I had to go in by myself while the guys found a parking spot. Adam's parents were already there, along with Tricia. They had all picked a cosy little table to one corner of the room. The place itself felt anachronistic; too cheerful. I felt like this wasn't the right place to go after burying the love of my life. The rest of the guests seemed oblivious.
Looking around at the smiling laughing faces, I realised that for most people here, this was simply a social event. A reason to buy a new outfit to get dressed up and to meet people they hadn't seen in a while. Did no one here care about Adam as much as I did?
A hand squeezed my shoulder, and I looked up to see Matt standing behind me, a
long with Ben and Andy.
“A nice cup of tea will help,” Andy said softly. I nodded blankly, not thinking clearly and glad that somebody else was looking out for me.
“Let's take this table,” Ben said indicating an empty table by the window. “Matt, you sit here; Andy, sit there, and Becky can have the comfy seat.”
We followed Ben's lead, and once we'd staked a claim to a table, Andy went up to order.
Every so often, Tricia would look my way, looking exceedingly hacked off that I was here.
“I can’t believe she had the audacity to go on about her fatherless child when she didn’t even bring the boy with her,” Ben said. “She cares so much about him that she didn’t bring him to his father’s funeral.”
I pursed my lips and nodded. I didn’t want to talk about Tricia any more. I wished the ground would open and swallow her up.
“Anyway, Bex, never mind about her; let’s talk about you. Where have you been staying since the fire?” Matt's question caught me off guard.
“Oh, you know, here and there,” I replied.
“No, I don't know; have you been staying with friends? Relations?” I wasn't sure why Matt was pressing the point. I didn't want to answer this question. Today shouldn't be about me and my problems. This was Adam's final send-off.
“Yeah, friends.” I hoped my vague answer would satisfy him and tried to think of something to change the subject to. “Did you see the house after the fire?” I asked.
The three men hesitated, looking uncomfortable.
“Yeah, we saw,” Ben's voice was tight. I knew it must've been difficult for all three of them to see the remains of the house after it had burned down.
“Did the fire brigade ever find out what caused it?” Andy asked. I nodded.
“Faulty wiring,” I replied.
I didn't want to put the blame on Adam's parents, but it had been their house. They should have taken responsibility for making sure that it was safe. I didn't know how they were living with what happened. How were they not wracked with guilt over Adam's death and the fact that the life we had shared had been completely erased leaving only a pile of ash?
“Are the police going to prosecute anyone?” Andy asked.
“I doubt it,” I replied. “I'm sure Adam's parents will blame an electrician, and I'm just as sure one has never set foot in the house.”
Adam's dad was one of those cheapskates who thought they could save a penny here and there by doing every job themselves regardless of how complex the job was or whether they had tools or the capacity to carry it out by themselves. Yeah, I was a bit mad about this. I kept telling myself this could have happened to anyone, but in my heart, perhaps unfairly, I blamed Adam's parents for his death.
“Where are you working, these days?” Ben asked.
“Oh, you know, here and there,” I replied.
“This again?” Matt asked. I sighed.
“You know, some people don't like to share all their tales of woe at a funeral, or make a funeral all about them,” I pointed out.
Matt's expression hardened, and somehow it made me feel like a little girl in trouble with her dad.
“There’s a difference between avoiding attention and being outright evasive when somebody is asking about your situation.”
My hackles bristled, and I wondered why he was so interested in this.
“What's it to you?” I asked.
The three men exchanged a look, pausing for a moment before replying.
“We made Adam a promise,” Andy said.
“If anything happened to him, he told us to take care of you.” Ben's words floored me.
“Of course, we all thought this day would come during a deployment, not during peacetime.”
“The poor bastard. Two tours of Afghanistan and he gets taken out by a house fire. What a fucking way to go.” Andy's words surprised me, and he said them loud enough that several people across the room turned to stare at him.
“Keep your voice down,” Matt warned.
I finally managed to put some words together.
“What do you mean, take care of me?”
“Exactly what it says on the tin,” Ben explained. “Obviously, however we can help will depend on your situation. But if you're not going to tell us what that situation is…” he trailed off and gestured with his hand to imply the end of the sentence was obvious. The other two nodded in agreement.
I was left a little confused, but before I could ask anything else, Adam's aunt Sheila approached the table and sat down, then regaled us with reminiscences of every time Adam had ever visited her house. It was kind of nice to know that at least one of his relatives was here for him. I think all four of us needed to know that.
* * *
Matt
Becky was being cagey about her living situation. I’d known her for years, and she was really bad at lying. She always avoided answering things when she knew she was doing something silly.
When Becky went to get a drink, I shared a look with Andy and Ben.
“She’s hiding something,” Ben remarked.
“I got that impression, too.” I sipped at my pint.
“What’s the poor girl gotten herself into?” Andy kept his voice low. It was exactly what I’d been thinking. I hoped she hadn’t been sleeping on the streets, or staying with anyone unpleasant. If she was shacking up with someone just to get a place to stay, I’d drag her out of there faster than she could ask why, and I’d spank the snot out of her.
Only, I wouldn’t. Because that wasn’t how consent worked. Fine, I’d not spank her, and I’d imagine it really hard.
“You heard her. She won’t talk about it,” I said, watching her wait for her drink. “So we’ll have to do some reconnaissance after we’re finished, here.”
“Agreed. Easiest thing would be to give her a lift home. Wherever home is. Then we’d see if she was safe,” Andy muttered.
“It’d put my mind at ease if I could have a shufty at her living arrangements,” Ben added.
“That’s what we’ll do, then,” I said. “Even if we didn’t promise Adam, she’s still our mate and she’s alone in the world, and having a pretty bad time of it. We’ll look out for her.” I was glad they were on the same page as me about this.
“Whether she wants us to or not,” Andy added.
We all nodded and stopped talking as she came back.
“Did I miss anything?” she asked. She was dressed all in black and I couldn’t help seeing how well her clothes suited her. Some people looked washed out in black but not Becky. I knew it was inappropriate to be thinking about her in that way on this day. That was why I said nothing to her, and wouldn’t even share my opinion with Andy or Ben.
“It’s just so hard... where do I go from here?” Tricia’s shrill voice carried across the cafe. She looked around the mourners. Wait, was she trying to see who had noticed her?
“Pathetic,” Andy muttered. I nodded in agreement.
I looked from her, with her orange fake tan and far too much makeup, and back to Becky, with her natural pale skin and slightly pink cheeks. Becky looked respectful. More than that. Like she had better things to do today than spend hours in front of a mirror before her fiancée’s funeral.
I felt bad for Adam that he’d ever been entangled with someone like Tricia. And my heart ached for Becky that she had lost such a great guy.
Adam’s death had kicked all of us in the face, but especially Becky.
Now we had to look out for her. Adam had made us promise. And right then, I swore to myself I wouldn’t let him down. Or her.
“I need the bathroom,” Becky said, when her drink was half gone.
She got up and headed off.
“This must be so hard for her,” Andy observed.
I nodded in agreement. “She should have been taken care of by Adam’s parents, instead of being sidelined.”
“They’ve never been very warm,” Ben noted. “Remember when Adam broke his leg during basic train
ing? His dad came to hospital and told him to stop being a pansy.”
I snorted because that had been one of the most ridiculous things anyone had ever done.
“I thought Corporal Briggsy was going to punch Adam’s dad,” I chuckled. “Remember the way he smacked his fist into that wall when Adam’s dad had left?”
Andy nodded in remembrance. “That was right! And that doctor came out of his office and gave Briggsy a dressing-down in front of us all.”
“I heard that doctor made Corporal Briggsy repair the wall on his Saturday,” Ben added.
“Bet he did it again the next time something wound him up. He was always kicking off.” We hadn’t seen Briggsy for years. I wondered how he was getting on up in Scotland.
We reminisced a bit longer about basic training. It was easy to get lost in the camaraderie of the moment, until I glanced over at Becky’s half-finished drink. I frowned.
“She’s been gone a while,” I remarked.
Andy leaned down and looked under the table. “She’s taken her bag.”
“Hang on.” I went to the ladies’ loos and opened the door. There was nobody in there. With my mouth set in a thin line, I returned to the others.
“She’s gone.”
“Cock.” Andy got to his feet and we all hurried out to the car park.
“How will we find her?” Ben asked.
“What car was she driving?” Andy asked.
I shook my head. “She didn’t drive here.”
We piled into my Audi and I headed off down the main road, looking out for her. The rain was pouring down and it was hard to see the faces of pedestrians as everyone was hunched up.
At last, as we were leaving town, I saw a black-clad figure trudging through the sheets of rain. I recognised the swaying movement of her ass.
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