The Sleeping Truth : A Romantic Thriller (Omnibus Edition containing both Book One and Book Two)

by Irvine, Ian C. P.

  A chill runs down my spine, and I feel the hairs rising on the back of my neck.

  “So, the doctor who is going back? Can you remember her name? I was just wondering if I had bumped into her in the canteen here.”

  “I was more friendly with her boyfriend, Mateg. A lovely, handsome man with dark, brown eyes. But I know his girlfriend too. We used to chat in the canteen a lot. She’s called Slowka.”

  “Slávka?” I ask, starting to feel rather strange.

  “Yes, that’s it. Slouka.”

  “About my height? Blonde? Green eyes? She was here doing a conversion year?”

  “Yes. Although, she’s not here now. I think she’s gone back to Slovakia for an interview at a hospital near her home town. Her boyfriend went back to work there when he left London and I think it was him that got her a job there in the same hospital, if she wants it. She’s in Slovakia just now, but she’s meant to be back here next week, then she will leaving and going back to Slovakia in a few weeks time…Andrew, are you feeling okay? You’ve gone all white…”

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  The train is ten minutes late as it finally pulls into Liverpool Street Station. My phone has rung five times in the past hour, but I have ignored it. Her text message told me everything I needed to know. Four twenty on platform seven. She has left me four voice messages, and I have listened to each of them several times. Listening to her voice, three emotions are swirling around within me. First of all, an anger like I have never felt before. An anger that eclipses several times over the anger that I felt towards Kate when I found out she had slept with someone else, the degree of the anger a poignant indication of how much I had stupidly allowed myself to fall in love with and trust a woman again.

  Second in my own private boiling cauldron of human emotion is a devastation that goes far beyond sadness or despair, and which I feel as a black cloud that envelopes me, blocking out all my horizons and threatening to engulf me as soon as the anger subsides. Only the anger can protect me now. Anger has once again become my best friend.

  There is a third emotion, confusion, but it’s voice is not as loud as the other two. As I listen to her voice messages, her voice sounds so tender, so loving, and through chinks in the clouds that are engulfing me, I recall the softness of her skin against mine, and the twinkle in her eye as she looks deep into my soul…and I don’t understand. How can she have done this to me? She seemed so sincere, everything that happened between us seemed so real.

  Can this really be happening?

  I shake my head and clear my thoughts. The time for weakness has passed. I am no longer the fool I was when I woke up this morning. I am wiser now. Far wiser. If anything, I am as much to blame for this as her: I allowed myself to trust someone else, I gave someone else my heart, something that I knew was wrong. I deluded myself into believing that if I could allow myself to fall, and someone else would catch me.

  I was a fool.

  But never again.

  Ever.

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  The train comes to a stop, and the doors open, passengers piling out of the carriages. My heart is pounding as I search the people streaming towards me for Slávka, adrenaline pumping through my body, my arm and legs trembling with emotion and energy. Everything around me seems to be so loud, and I sense that I am beginning to lose control.

  It was not meant to be like this. I had looked forward to this moment so much for the past few days…No! Don’t even start thinking about what it was like before. Build the wall. Take back the control.

  I see her then, dragging her red suitcase, and waving at me wildly. She starts to take quicker, shorter sets, trying to hurry towards me and what is so confusing is that she seems so happy to see me.

  “Andrew!” she is calling my name, her eyes alive with light, her smile large and welcoming, her free arm reaching out towards me.

  I stare impassively at her as she hurries up to me, letting go of the suitcase and wrapping both arms around me.

  “Andrew, my Andrew. I was worried for you. You did not answer my calling, when I ring your mobile number. I am so happy see you, …to see you!”

  She pulls back a little and moves as if to kiss me on the lips, but I raise both my hands and grip her arms lightly, pushing her gently away from me.

  Her eyes open wide, questioningly, confusion starting to creep onto her face.

  “Andrew, is something matter?” she asks.

  I look at her coldly, struggling with the tornado inside me, the swirling winds of emotion that are spiralling within.

  “Who is Mateg?”

  A sudden recognition in her eyes, an instant change in her body language. She hesitates but then moves towards me again, her arms reaching out to embrace me. I step back.

  “Is Mateg your boyfriend?”

  “Čo?” she asks, the first time she has ever spoken to me in Slovak. “What? Why you ask me this? How do you know about Mateg?” she asks, straightening up, a hand going backwards towards the suitcase and pulling it closer towards herself. Defensively.

  “Why did you go back to Slovakia…to Bardejov? Did you have an interview at a hospital for a job?”

  “Yes…” she nods. “Is possibility for good job in good hospital and I must talk to Consultant about…”

  “Did Mateg arrange the job for you? Are you going to go back to Slovakia to be with your boyfriend? Did they offer you the job?”

  Her face is losing its colour now, and I can see fear in her eyes. The fear of the guilty.

  “Yes, my Andrew. They do offer me job,…a very good job, and yes, Mateg is boyfriend, but…”

  Tears burst from my eyes, and I am turning now, moving quickly away from her. Escaping from her lies, and not able to look at her for a second longer, not able to hear her voice or smell her perfume or let her beguiling beauty confuse me or hurt me for a moment longer.

  Far behind me I hear her call my name but already I am running, running quickly, desperate to get away. Some people turn their heads towards me as I brush past them and run up the escalator, heading towards the sunlight outside, but I ignore them. I ignore them all.

  Chapter Forty Five

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  The taxi pulls up outside Gail’s house, and I hand the driver a twenty pound note, not bothering to wait for a ‘thank you’ or the change. Scanning the rows of buttons on the outside of the main entry door to the building, I see one with Gail and Luke’s name on it and press it. Gail answers it and a moment later there is the electronic buzz of the door lock being opened from within, and I push on the door and hurry upstairs.

  She is waiting for me at the door as I arrive on her floor, three levels up.

  “Have you been crying?” she asks, as I walk towards her.

  “Is Luke here?” I answer her.

  “No…he’s out. He won’t be back tonight.”

  I walk past her in the doorway and into her lounge. I hear the door close behind me and her voice asking, “Andrew, what’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

  I turn to her, but quickly look away, lifting my face so that she cannot see me.

  “Andrew, what’s happened?”

  “It’s over between me and Slávka. I found out she’s got a boyfriend in Slovakia, and she’s leaving the country in a few weeks time to go back to be with him…I can’t believe it,” I say, my voice beginning to crack, unable to hold back the emotion. “I can’t believe that we’ve both been fucked over at the same time. First you with Ben and Dianne, and now me by some Slovak bastard called Mateg.”

  She is looking at me in total disbelief, her own problems momentarily forgotten.

  “I don’t understand. What happened?” she asks, coming closer and looking up at me.

  Not able to stand still, lest I find myself facing the reality of what has happened to me, I walk into her kitchen. “Have you got any alcohol anywhere?” I ask, opening the fridge door and peering in. “I need to g
et pissed.”

  Gail comes into the kitchen after me, opening a cupboard and pulling out a bottle of red wine. “I’ll join you,” she says. “We’ll get pissed together.” She nudges me out of the way with her hip and opens a drawer, taking out a corkscrew. “Here, take this into the lounge and open it up, and I’ll get some glasses.”

  “So,” she says, sitting down beside me on the couch a few moments later. “Tell me what happened, and we can have a cry together as we both drown our sorrows.”

  The bottle of red wine disappears quickly as I unburden myself to Gail, telling her what happened at the hospital and how I confronted Slávka at the station and how she admitted to it all being true. My heart is still pumping faster than I ever believed possible, and my emotions are a crazy mix of anger and tears which threaten to sweep over me at any moment. For now, thankfully, the anger is dominating, holding back the tide and helping me to keep it all together...just.

  “I just can’t believe it has happened again. That’s why I’ve never let myself really trust anyone before. It’s my own fault. After Kate I should have never let myself trust anyone else again. I probably deserve it,” I say, tipping up the glass and emptying the last of the first bottle of red wine down my throat. “Got any more?” I ask.

  “Of course,” she nods. “I was a girl-guide when I was young. Never unprepared, and all that. Always make sure I’ve got enough wine. You never know who’s going to turn up…”

  She returns carrying two bottles, and plonks them both down ceremoniously on the table. “Just in case,” she says, turning to me and smiling.

  “So, how do you feel now then, about Ben?” I ask, putting the bottle on the floor between my two feet and pulling the cork out with the corkscrew, realising how self-absorbed I have been with my own misery.

  “Crap. Terrible. Lonely. Shit. …oh, …and very, very angry. But most of all, I think it’s the ‘lonely’ that wins out over the others. I just feel so empty…”

  “Exactly…it’s like a dull pain that just won’t go away,” I say, and then pause as I see the tears starting to stream down her face.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask gently.

  She looks at me for a second, then shakes her head, wiping the tears off her cheeks with both hands, breathing in deeply and visibly struggling to regain control of her emotions.

  “Not now,” she says. “I think we both pretty much understand what we’re both going through. Anyway,…” she says, taking the bottle from me and pouring more wine into both of our glasses. “None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me,” she says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, picking up my glass and taking a large sip.

  “I mean, when you wanted to go out with me before, I said no, because you had slept with Dianne. And so I went out with Ben instead, and then you met Slávka. If I had only not been so stupid and just slept with you in the first place, then we both wouldn’t be here now. Or at least, we might be here, but we’d be doing something else instead of drinking ourselves into oblivion. Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” I say, clinking her glass.

  “You’re right. It’s all your fault…” I say, nudging her playfully.

  “Ouch,” she says, pretending to wince then forcing a smile. “I’ve already got a broken heart, I don’t need any broken ribs as well.”

  “So,…have any got any decent DVDs to watch as we get drunk?”

  “Probably nothing that you’d like. I’ve just got lots of girlie stuff…”

  “Like what?”

  “Like Dirty Dancing or The Sound of Music, for starters.”

  “Okay, let’s start with them, and then we’ll see what else you’ve got later.”

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  Half-way through Dirty Dancing, we finish the second bottle and I open the third. I pour us both some more red, and as I settle back down into the sofa, Gail snuggles up beside me and rests her head on my shoulder. A few scenes later, after Patrick Swayze has just had his first kiss with Jennifer Grey, or rather ‘Baby’, I lean forward and pour myself some more wine from the bottle, and as I settle back into the sofa I automatically lift my arm and wrap it around Gail’s shoulders, cuddling her into me, an action that is more automatic than planned, something I have got used to doing with Slávka whenever we sit in front of the TV.

  The pain from earlier this evening is beginning to dull now, the alcohol starting to blur the edges of reality and removing the ability to think clearly about the bigger picture.

  I am now only able to feel an overpowering need for comfort, to be hugged and to be held, for someone to take away the pain that I know still lies lurking and threatening beyond the edges of my drunken haze.

  Gail moves a little closer to me, lifting her legs and tucking them under herself on the couch, one arm reaching out and extending itself across my stomach. She feels warm and soft.

  I turn my head and kiss her platonically on the top of her head, breathing in the wonderful smell of her hair. “You smell good,” I whisper above her ear.

  She lifts her head from my shoulder and looks at me, her fingers gently digging into my stomach, a subtle attempt to draw me closer, her need for comfort and affection as great as mine. I look into her eyes, taking a moment to focus properly, and she moves closer and kisses me on my lips. At first gently, almost tentatively, but when I do not move away, I feel her fingers move further across my stomach, pulling me more eagerly towards her. I kiss her again, this time more passionately than before.

  Her lips are so soft, so beautifully soft. Just like Slávka’s.

  Slávka’s...

  A wave of sadness surges within me, and I feel an almost physical pain in my chest.

  “Wait,” I say, pushing Gail gently away. “I..., I can’t do this...”

  I try to stand, at first a little unsteady on my feet, but once up, stronger and more stable.

  “I’m sorry... I think I should go...”

  Gail says something which I don’t quite understand, but already I am moving towards the door of her flat.

  I get to the door, open it and am about to step outside, when a wave of the alcohol hits me and I feel slightly dizzy. I rest for a second against the doorframe, half-in, half-out of the door, and as I do, the sadness within me finds its moment and sweeps over me before I can control it.

  Sinking slowly down the door, I start to cry. The emptiness that Slávka has left behind engulfs me completely, and suddenly I more alone and in pain than I have ever been before in my whole existence. The feeling overwhelms me and I start to sob, my head cradled in my own arms.

  I feel a hand upon my shoulder, and then another on my cheek.

  Gail is squatting on the ground in front of me.

  She pulls me gently forward and I collapse onto her shoulder. Her arms are around me and for a moment she rocks me back and forward.

  I pull back a second and look at her. A tear rolls down her cheek, and I reach up to wipe it away.

  And then, beyond all reason, we are kissing again. Two very lonely people, both drunk, attempting to find solace in each other. She kisses me back passionately and I close my eyes, blocking out the picture of Slávka that appears momentarily in my head and reminds me painfully of our break up and her rejection.

  We kiss again. And then again. And then perhaps in an act of angry defiance, or otherwise maybe as a way of blotting out any further thought of Slávka , I deliberately give myself over to losing myself in the physical excitement I can feel rising within me, using it as a shield of comfort to blot out my ability for further drunken thought.

  I am surprised by the hunger I feel for physical closeness, the need to explore, touch and be excited by this woman in my arms. I can’t remember how it happens, but soon my hands are caressing her breasts and she is removing her top. I reach out to pull her towards me so that I can kiss her nipples, so tantalisingly close, but she stands up and moves slightly away from me, offering me her extended hand. I look up at her, my breath coming in quick bursts, ad
renaline pumping through my veins, the urge to be with Gail now dominating my thoughts. Without saying a word, I push the front door closed and take her hand, and she leads me through to her bedroom.

  Hungrily we claw at each other's clothes, removing them as fast as we can, then collapsing upon each other on her bed. My tongue is everywhere, tasting her flesh as fast and furiously as I can, my need to devour her and be in her driving me into a frenzy of primordial coupling.

  I feel her hand upon me, guiding me, pulling me towards her, her need as great if not greater than mine. And then I am in her, pushing, deep, as hard as I can, trying to forget, wanting to explode, heading for the oblivion that I so desperately seek.

  We scream together, her fingers digging deep into my back, my arms suddenly weak from supporting myself above her, and we collapse together on the bed.

  Tired. Exhausted, both physically and mentally, I close my eyes, no longer able to fight the drunken mist that descends upon me and takes away my senses, and within seconds I am asleep. Naked on the bed beside Gail.

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  The light creeping through the half-closed curtains slowly wakes me up, and I open my eyes to find myself in bed with a naked woman. Gail. She is still fast asleep, impervious to the sunshine outside, her hand stretched out across my chest, a half-smile covering her face. A small thin sheet covers us both up to our waists, but as I turn to look at her, I see her breasts, soft and beautiful, and I remember kissing them in a frenzy of lust and desperation when we dragged each other into bed.