The Grayson Trilogy

by Georgia Rose

  “It’s time for you to go now, Carlton.”

  He exhaled harshly as he pulled back from me.

  “Oh, give me a break,” he said roughly, turning, and as he did I caught sight of Trent standing a few feet behind him. Trent stared straight at me and without breaking eye contact he indicated with his head to Carlton that he should leave. Carlton paused for a moment, taking another look at me, then shaking his head in exasperation and muttering goodnight walked away across the yard towards the gate. I stared after him in disbelief – how could he leave me just like that? Trent continued to look at me and when I met his cool gaze again he shook his head a little, frowning, as if confused.

  “This isn’t like you, what’s going on?” He paused, but as no answer was forthcoming he continued more angrily: “You’ve got to learn to look after yourself better, Grayson. You’ve had too much to drink and you can’t protect yourself in that condition. Fortunately, at least you were with Carlton and he cares for you, even if he’s more interested in getting into your pants at the moment than in looking after you, but you shouldn’t have put yourself in that situation. Don’t you have any respect for yourself?” He was lecturing me as if he had some sort of right to do so and my eyes welled up as I looked fixedly down at my hands.

  “I’m a grown-up, Trent. Why is what I do any of your business?”

  “Because you’re not behaving in a responsible manner,” he snapped back, and then carried on, a harsh edge to his voice now. “What is it, Grayson? No smart comeback from that clever mouth of yours? That’s not like you.” His mocking tone hurt me but I had no intention of telling him what was going on; my feelings were already threatening to overwhelm me and as I looked up at him I could see the shock on his face as he registered the pain across mine.

  “I need to go to bed,” I whispered, and walked unsteadily towards the cottage. I remembered going upstairs, lying across my bed, then nothing more, letting the darkness take me.

  The nightmare came, always the same: Eva, happily in my arms, comfortingly so real that I could touch her warm skin, so alive I could breathe in her scent from her soft hair, then suddenly, brutally, being taken by something unseen – torn from me, dragged from my arms, then fading from view, pulled away through a swirling, ever-thickening fog. My desperation growing as I tried to claw myself back to her, to save her; frantically trying to run after her but only in slow motion, unable to move any faster, being held back and unable to break away from some invisible force; reaching for her little hands as she held them out to me but they were always just beyond my grasp, the distance between us increasing all the time; sobbing as my terror grew at losing her, screaming for her to come back to me…then tonight being woken, crying and gasping in panic…feeling strong arms around me, rocking me, soothing me. Alex? No, not Alex…

  I woke the next morning feeling better than I probably deserved to, but with the overall feeling of depression swamping me. I could hear the kettle boiling downstairs and remembering Trent’s sudden appearance last night realised he must still be here. I got up to find that my jeans had been removed and were folded across the back of the chair in the corner of my room. I didn’t remember doing that. I put them on and went downstairs. Susie greeted me in her usual manner. Trent was sitting at the kitchen table and looked up with concern in his eyes as I appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Morning,” he said cautiously.

  “Did you take off my jeans?” I could hear the anxiety in my voice.

  “Yes, I thought you might be more comfortable sleeping without them. How’re you feeling?”

  I ignored his question.

  “Did we er…you know?” Acutely embarrassed, I stared down at my hands and could feel the blush spreading across my cheeks.

  “No, Grayson,” he replied. “Despite your best efforts to get laid last night, I managed to restrain myself from taking advantage of your obvious charms. I watched you until I was sure you were unlikely to choke on your own vomit and then I slept down here.” I winced at his words as he indicated towards the sitting room. “I’ve made up Susie’s food as due to your laminating fetish I had full instructions, but she’s refused to eat anything.”

  “That’s because she thinks you’re going to poison her,” I replied, and turning to Susie, who was watching me closely, wagging her tail, said, “Eat up, it’s fine,” and she trotted off to her bowl in the boot room.

  Trent, who hadn’t taken his eyes off me said, “You might want to have a word with Carlton. You know how he feels about you and you shouldn’t have led him on like that when you don’t really mean it.” Oh God, I was so ashamed of myself, although I couldn’t help but feel a little indignant – who was he to say what I did or did not mean? “Also, I want to apologise for the way I spoke to you last night, I was unnecessarily cruel,” he continued in a more conciliatory tone, then added, “I’ve arranged for you to have the day off. We’re going out, and before you interrupt,” and he held his hand up towards me, “this is not a date; there is something you need to do today. I will be back to pick you up in an hour.” I’d automatically wrapped my arms around myself, physically trying to hold myself together as he turned to leave. Mystified by his plans for me I was also slightly panicky and nauseous at the thought of not having any work to do today. I’d thought that was the only thing that would get me through the day and I didn’t want to have the time to think.

  He paused when he got to the door, and half-turning to look back at me he spoke gently: “I’d like to think, Em, if we had spent the night together you would remember me in the morning.” And with that he left. I closed my eyes, inwardly groaning with the humiliation I was experiencing, and I put my head in my hands, truly mortified.

  I showered, dressing in jeans and a tee shirt, adding a thick sweatshirt for warmth before pulling on my plimsolls. The darkness continued to envelop me as I got ready and I then realised, with a sigh, I’d have to face Carlton before I left. Wandering out to the yard where he was mucking out one of the boxes I arrived at the stable door and distracted him, “Hi.” He glanced up, frowning a little when he saw me.

  “Hi,” he glumly responded.

  “Can I have a word, Carlton? I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night. I was out of order and behaved completely inappropriately and I’m really, really sorry. I know how you feel about me and it was unfair of me to lead you on like that…” Realising I was gushing I stopped abruptly, looking down at my hands and feeling uncomfortable. When I looked anxiously back up at him I was surprised to see a small smile on his face.

  “That’s so like you, taking all the responsibility on yourself. It should be me apologising to you, not the other way around. I’m a big boy, I knew what I was doing and the consequences of my actions and I was quite up for taking full advantage of the situation last night and should’ve behaved better with you, so I’m sorry too.” I saw the relief I felt mirrored in his face.

  “So we’re okay then?” I asked. “Nothing has changed between us, so we can just carry on as before?”

  “Yes, Grayson, as unfortunately nothing did happen last night, nothing has changed between us and we’re all good,” he replied, somewhat regretfully, hesitating before continuing, “Can I ask though, did Trent stay with you last night?”

  “Yes he did,” I replied. “To keep an eye on me, make sure I was okay.”

  Carlton nodded, then said wistfully as he turned back to his mucking out, “He’s a better man than me.” Then he added a little more cheerily, “You know what? We would’ve had a lot of fun last night if Trent hadn’t showed up.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that,” I replied, forcing myself to smile weakly at him.

  Trent returned within the hour and we set off in silence. We’d been travelling for a while when I asked in a quiet voice, “Where’re we going, Trent?” Although I already suspected I knew the answer.

  “As it should’ve been Eva’s birthday today we’re going to the churchyard so you have a chance to spend some t
ime with her,” he replied steadily, glancing over at me carefully.

  “Oh.” I could hear my voice cracking. “How did you know?”

  “I was concerned about you last night so I went over the background search we did on you and there it was. I’m only sorry I hadn’t picked up on it before.”

  We travelled from then on in silence. Wrapping my arms around myself I concentrated on holding myself together as I thought through the events of the previous evening and found it difficult to excuse my behaviour. I’d experienced an overwhelming desire to be in a man’s arms and that was an unwelcome weakness to be showing. As I stared unseeing out of the window I had to reluctantly admit that it was because I missed the closeness I’d once shared with Alex. Telling myself firmly there was no point in dwelling on another loss I decided I’d have to ensure it didn’t happen again.

  Eventually we arrived at the churchyard. Trent got out, opening the door for me before reaching into the back and taking out a bunch of daffodils which he handed to me. I stared at them, frowning, before looking at him questioningly.

  “Stole them from the Manor gardens,” he smiled conspiratorially by way of explanation.

  “Thank you,” I whispered hoarsely.

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  I turned to enter the churchyard.

  I sat beside Eva, briefly allowing myself to remember the exquisite joy I’d felt when she was born on the most perfect day of my life. As always the guilt was soon back, swamping those feelings out of existence as I wept silently. I cleared away the dead flowers from Christmas and arranged the daffodils in the vase, remembering the time when I’d told Eva that these most beautiful of flowers bloomed especially for her, for her birthday, every year without fail, and I remembered how special that had made her feel.

  Trent was waiting by the car when I walked out of the gates having composed myself again.

  “Rather than having lunch in a pub I’ve taken the liberty of packing one of Mrs F’s picnics. I thought we’d find somewhere along the way to eat if that’s all right with you?” Trent asked as we got in the car.

  “That’ll be fine thanks,” I murmured, rather distractedly, as we drove for a while before entering a country park. Trent parked up and I climbed out feeling hollow and weary. He took a picnic hamper out of the back and we proceeded to walk out of the car park and up a hill until we reached the top where there was a large oak tree for us to sit under. The view was spectacular when we turned to arrange the rug and set down the picnic, and we sat for a moment taking it in.

  I knew Trent was watching me warily and sensing his eyes on me I tried not to meet them.

  “Talk to me,” he said, his voice soft. I glanced over at him but unable to reply, just shook my head. “Please,” he continued, “I understand you’re grieving, although not the depth of it as I’ve never been a parent, but I feel there’s something more, something beyond the grief that I can’t put my finger on. You had a nightmare last night, Emma, and I can’t bear you being in this much pain and not knowing what’s going on.” I hadn’t remembered the nightmare and was embarrassed he’d seen me in that state but being reminded of it now, the memories of being held and comforted came back to me. I felt I owed him some sort of explanation as to my behaviour so I took a deep breath to steady myself.

  “I’m sorry you were there to witness that. It seems to happen more frequently at times when I’m feeling particularly vulnerable…like today…because I’m consumed by guilt as I blame myself every day for her death.” I looked for his reaction but he just continued to watch me steadily.

  “Tell me,” and something in his tone made me take the plunge, letting out everything I’d kept buried inside for so long.

  “I’m the one who’s responsible for her death – I was her mother and it was my job to protect her. I should’ve realised how ill she was, I should’ve taken her to the doctor earlier, insisted they refer her to the hospital instead of allowing them to send us home. I should’ve fought harder for her and I should’ve made them all see how ill she was, made them listen. I should’ve saved her, but I didn’t…I failed her, I caused her suffering and pain which is the most unbearable part and I’m condemned to live with the guilt of that every day…But on some days, like today, the pain becomes so overwhelming that I don’t see any way of managing to survive it.” My voice, that had begun cracking, failed completely, ending in a hoarse whisper as the tears started to flow unbidden and unchecked as my body convulsed with the pain running through it. Trent was at my side immediately, pulling me into his arms, holding me gently and letting me cry myself out. Eventually my sobs subsided and I felt calmer from their release than I had for a long time. Trent loosened his hold on me without saying a word and I moved away from him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable that I’d overstepped some boundary.

  “I’m sorry about telling you all of that, burdening you with it,” I said, once I was composed enough to speak again.

  “Is that the first time you’ve told anyone how you feel?” And as I nodded he exhaled softly. “I’m honoured that you chose me. I can’t believe you’ve been living with that inside you – no wonder you’re so unhappy all the time.” I looked over at him smiling softly at that.

  “I’m not the only one who’s unhappy.”

  “No, indeed you’re not,” he said, and I saw a cloud cross his face. “We all have our issues to deal with, I guess.”

  “I’ve told you what I live with every day, how about you tell me what you live with?” I probed.

  He gazed at me for a moment then shook his head. “I think not.” He smiled uncertainly, avoiding meeting my eyes again, before trying to lift the mood by changing the subject. “I’m famished so I think we need to distract ourselves by focusing on the picnic.”

  Realising I was also hungry, having not managed to eat anything for breakfast, we tucked into platefuls of coronation chicken, salad and couscous, followed by rich, lemony cheesecake.

  When we’d finished eating and had packed everything away we both sat for a while, content to stare at the view, the silence eventually broken by me asking, “Why are you doing this, Trent?” I’d been mulling this over while eating, feeling the need for some answers.

  “Doing what?” I felt him turn to look at me.

  “Involving yourself in my problems, feeling as if you have to protect me.” I turned my head then to watch him, uneasily, looking for his reaction. I was giving him an opportunity, an opening, but I saw his look become guarded, as he took his time in coming up with a response. It was as though he was weighing which words he should choose as to the effect they would have on me.

  “It’s my job.”

  I nodded as if I understood, as if I believed him, saying softly, almost to myself, “Of course…it’s your job.”

  “That’s part of my role on the estate, Emma. That’s what Cavendish wants, me managing the staff, making sure everyone’s safe, happy, coping okay. We live in a quiet place and it’s easy for people to feel isolated and to get down. I try to head that off when I can.”

  “So everyone else gets this sort of treatment from you then.”

  He shrugged, the action dismissive, before answering, “Not necessarily…it depends…not everyone has had as much to deal with as you.” I smiled gently, feeling tired with all the emotion of the past few hours.

  Trent checked on his watch then sighed, and seemed unwilling to say it was time to go.

  On the journey home I said, “Thanks for listening today and just accepting what I said…without asking anything or trying to solve my problems.”

  “It really wouldn’t be my place, Emma,” he replied. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through. So I certainly wouldn’t be able to tell you how to get over what you’re feeling. I don’t think anybody should do that.

  “I believe people feel a certain way about things that have happened to them for a reason, and they have to be given the right amount of time to find a way to resolve the situation, or learn to
live with it, and that’s not something that can be forced. I hope it’s made you feel a bit better to have told someone though, even if it is only me and not some sort of professional person who might actually be able to help you.”

  “I do feel a bit easier in my mind after unloading onto you actually. Sharing obviously does help. Though I was sent to a counsellor but it didn’t go well, probably because I went unwillingly. After that I didn’t have much faith in any sort of professional counselling.”

  “I’m with you on that,” he agreed, and there it was, another vague hint to his past, that something had happened that he had needed some sort of help with. Although it sounded as if his experience of counsellors was not any better than mine.

  Chapter 13

  A week or so later Carlton came over to help me out with a feed delivery and afterwards we sat drinking coffee together in my kitchen. Now Eva’s birthday had passed my mood had started to lighten from the dark place it had been and I was able to feel a little more positive again. Something had been puzzling me from the night before her birthday and I didn’t quite know how to bring it up. Carlton, who was slouched in the kitchen chair with one arm hanging down stroking Susie’s ear, eventually said, “You seem deep in thought, anything I can help with?”

  “Actually I have something to ask you.”

  “I thought you might. Go on.”

  “I was wondering, that night, when we were about to…you know…before Trent interrupted us.”

  “Yes, I remember that night only too vividly,” he muttered a little grumpily, which I ignored as I continued.