by Bloom, Anna
His smile is breathtaking. The dimple I haven’t seen enough of recently flashes. I want to see that dimple all the time. “I’m still sensing a but...”
“But… I don’t want to get married until after Aiden is in jail. I know he’s going; he won’t be let out on bail now.” Reggie has made damn sure he won’t be out on bail. “But I want the past to be behind me.”
Eli squeezes my toes and a little flame of desire ripples through me. We haven’t been together since my attack and I know he’s giving me space. And well, having my hands bandaged and taped together is a little difficult.
“I think that’s a good decision. The baby is not due until the spring, we still have time.”
“The British justice system takes too long.” I groan in my throat.
“I know.” The blues read my face with deep scrutiny.
“I still haven’t told you everything. I promised you the whole truth.”
His lips curve at the corners. “I know, but I’m not rushing. I can sense your heart is open now. I feel the difference in you.”
“Are you Yoda?”
“Who the hell is Yoda?”
My eyes almost pop out of my head. “Okay, this might be the deal breaker. You don’t know who Yoda is? What the fuck, Elijah? Bowsley isn’t the goddamn moon.”
He snorts and throws his head back. “Of course I know who Yoda is. The force is strong with me.”
I laugh so hard. It builds within me until I’m rocking back and forth. Tears spring from my eyes and I wipe them away.
He leans closer, shifting along the sofa and then catches a stray droplet of water with his lips. “No more tears.”
“These are happy tears, I promise.”
“I love you.” His fingers skim around my face, threading into my hair; his thumb presses against my jaw. My tongue tingles with the anticipation of his kiss. When it comes, I catch my breath. His lips brush once, twice, and I can’t breathe. I want him so much. Gently, his tongue slips into my mouth and I tangle mine up against it, pushing and dancing. His groan almost ignites me into flames.
“I want you.” I murmur.
“Faith.” His gaze when he pulls back holds a warning.
“No, Elijah. I want you, all of you. And I want to give you what I have.”
He’s torn. Caught between his desire and his need to care and protect me.
“Unbandage my hands.” I lift them up between us.
Chewing on his bottom lip but not saying a word, he unhooks the fabric, winding it into a ball as he gently pulls it away from my skin. Under the covering my skin is faded purple and yellow, the bruises fading with time, the bones still setting. My fingers are bound together tight but without the bandages I can at least feel him.
“Take me to bed.”
“Angela is coming over.”
“Take me to bed, now.”
He lifts my legs and slips off the sofa, standing and sweeping me into his arms. His lips find mine the whole way up the stairs, his tongue every so often searching for me within the kiss.
Once I’m gently settled on the bed, he softly pulls at my clothes, careful not to knock my hands. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers as undoes his jeans, sliding them down his hips and then pulling his jumper over his head and throwing it onto the floor.
“So are you.” My breath hitches. “Show me your back.”
He turns at my demand and I stare at the V for victory. It was for Melanie, but now I see it’s for us, too. A V for us.
“Love me,” I whisper, and he turns back, catching my face, kissing me with a fevered passion that I know will never fade.
“Always.”
With tender hands, he pushes me back onto the mattress, his eyes greedily absorbing me, his fingers gently tracing along my skin. The armour I have hidden myself under for so long transforms into art under his gaze. He slides his hand between my legs, and I part them, heat pooling at his touch. He’s slow, too slow. I arch as he pushes inside me, one finger and then two. Gah, give me strength. I move my hands to pull him closer but then remember I can’t. I curve my spine, lifting my hips off the bed. “Please, Eli.”
His smile is slow and beautiful. “You want me.”
I gasp as he rotates his fingers deep inside me, finding that sensitive spot I love him to press. “You are the only one I’ve ever wanted.”
He pulls his fingers free and settles on his knees between my legs. “And me you. It’s always been you.” Then he’s inside me, filling me with love and hope and a million thoughts and dreams in between. I groan and sing his name, praising him with everything I have until we come together, two people so lost, so betrayed, but now found on the distant shores of solace.
I cry his name as he shudders into me and life for the first time is calm, and I can finally breathe.
* * *
Time passes too fast. Sometimes I want to grab it so it stops and I can hold it still, preventing it from chasing away from me.
Change is good. It washes over us with soothing waters, cleaning us of the dirt and grime from the past. Bowsley no longer feels so far away; its long and twisting drive and sun-baked brickwork now seem as much a part of our lives as Chesham Place now feels my home.
That change? Jennifer. Now she longer acts as the heir Eli should be, and as the Baroness herself.
“Darling, that dress is simply divine on you.”
“Divine?” I raise an eyebrow and meet her reflection in the dressing room mirror. “I can’t pass this off as a post-Christmas food bump anymore.”
“No, I don’t think you can.” Jennifer turns and then reaches out to smudge her finger under my eyelashes. I jump a little but then hold still.
“Your eyeliner is smudged,” she explains.
“Oh, thanks.” I pause for a moment and stare at the both of us in the mirror. “Although I’m not holding out much hope for my make-up. I’m feeling strangely emotional.”
“You should, and that’s fine.”
I can’t help but laugh. So says the Ice Queen.
“Don’t look at me like that. I can accept my faults and I’m trying.” She pats her honey-blonde hair and straightens her shoulders. “This is your charity. Its very foundation and basis for existing mean a lot to you on a personal level. It’s likely the launch will be overwhelming.”
“Thank you for being here.”
“You are very welcome. Now shall we go and greet your guests?”
“Our guests.” I offer her a smile. “Are William and Harry really going to be here?”
Real princes in my house… who would have thought?
“Yes, and various other members. This idea of yours has really caught on, Faith.”
My face scrunches. “I believe the name, which is the bit everyone is talking about, was your idea.”
“I can’t help it if I’m a genius.” For a moment she’s deadly serious, then she cracks a wide smile.
“Come on, Baroness, let's go and do this.”
We walk down the hallway at the top of the open stairs together. This is a big night and it’s all happening in my home. It felt natural to hold the launch party for our venture in the Fairclough London residence. Although I’m not sure Miss Beesley, orchestrating hundreds of hired staff for the evening, would agree. I wave over at her, and on the surface she isn’t even breaking a sweat. I wonder if she secretly longs for the days of Peter not living there at all. I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t blame her at all if she did.
Thirty-Six Chesham has long been one of the most sought-after addresses in London, revered from afar and rarely seen behind closed doors in recent generations.
Not anymore. When deciding on the best place to locate our charity offices so both Jennifer and I had access, it felt natural for me to suggest some of the floor space here. Let's be real, Eli and I hardly use it; the kitchen, bedroom, and sitting room being our favourite areas of the house. Also, as surreal as it is that I have a baby growing inside me, kicking me now on a daily basis, I wanted to st
ill be able to keep a hand in while I'm on what I guess will effectively be maternity leave. What my maternity leave will be from I don’t know. The show will be over and so will my degree. Will there be another TV show? I don’t know. Would I want to do it again? I don’t know. I haven’t done the first one yet.
The one thing I do know is that I won’t be earning a living from my art. My hands while almost normal looking apart from the bend of my pinky on my right, no longer have the fine motor skills they used to. My brain can tell them to make something, but in my heart I have acknowledged it never quite looks like I want it to. With Eli still working as a lawyer it looks like art might not be filling our family home like I once thought it would.
He spots me coming from where he’s watching the stairs while chatting to two men in suits. I keep my eyes on him as he makes his apologies and then breaks away.
He’s always watching me. His guilt that he walked away from me those short few days eats at him from the inside. So every day I tell him I’m glad he did. He gave me the one thing I needed, the space to learn to fight.
“Sunshine,” he whispers in my ear. “Look at this. It’s amazing.”
I turn and take in the decorations. I let Laura organise with the help of Saskia, under the direct orders that everything had to be young and actually valid for the right age group. The house is silver and black to match the branding of H.U.G. Black for ink, silver for the glimmer of hope I hope we can provide.
Another thing about our launch; it’s for the girls. So yes, there will be some showbiz people. Angela has managed to pull some rather amazing strings and the Fairclough name has brought even royalty out in support. Me, I’ve invited a bus load of girls from Jeremy’s school, loads, all from twelve years up.
Eli stiffens, and all too late I spot Connie moving towards us. Jennifer somehow has managed to evaporate. Grandmother from hell got the silver memo and is wearing a pale silver gown which should look stupid on someone her age, but she manages to make it look truly wonderful on her slender frame. The tone picks out the silver in her sleek bob.
I smooth my own black dress down, happy with the way it’s gently clinging to the obvious swell of my tummy.
“Grandmother.” I smile with my greeting and Eli nearly chokes on his own saliva.
“Faith.”
We watch one another in silence. I turn to Eli. “Darling, could you get me an orange juice?”
“Sure.” He hesitates though.
“Please.” I shoot him a meaningful glance and he turns and walks towards the tables of drinks set up in the hallway.
“Thank you for coming,” I say.
She smiles but it’s glacial. “What would people think if I wasn’t here? It would be unheard of.” There’s a quiver in her words and as much as I hate her—knowing what she’s put us through, what she’s put her own family through—I still can’t help but feel a dart of pity for the old woman so desperate to hang onto times long past.
“What would they think, Connie?” I lift a shoulder. “But I’m glad you are showing your support.”
“You’ve changed everything I’ve ever known.” She keeps her tone low, so only I can hear.
I turn and meet her gaze. “And you’ve changed everything I’ve ever known. And really, Connie, I can only thank you for it. Now, I’ve got to go and mingle and greet my guests as they arrive.”
Connie tuts loudly. “Lots of loud children, bringing the place down with their lack of decorum.”
“Yeah, Connie. Lots of loud children, because it’s them this whole thing is for. You can stay here and look aloof and uncaring all evening, it’s really no skin off my nose, or you can come with me and find out what this is all about.”
She pauses and then drops her head in ascent. We won’t be best buddies anytime soon, but at least she’s no longer setting the Bowsley dogs on me every time I get close to her home—that’s progress, I guess.
We move together—a good few inches of space between us 'together'—and head for where guests are beginning to arrive.
Eli sidles back up, kissing the tender spot under my ear. “You look phenomenal tonight, Faith.” The blues are honest and bright.
“Why thank you, kind sir. You also look, may I say, ever so passable.”
Grinning, he leans closer, his breath skimming along my skin. “Passable? Remind me of that when you scream my name tonight.”
My legs actually tremble with his murmured promise. Ooh, that man. I fan myself down and laughing he walks away. I watch him go, knowing full well he knows I’m watching.
Someone else takes his place at my side and I turn to find the dark brown gaze of Jeremy watching me. “You know.” He nudges into me slightly. “I’d love to know what you are thinking when you look at him like that.” He smirks a little.
“I’m thinking, I can’t believe that arse is mine.”
Jeremy chuckles but he seems distracted.
“You okay?” I lean in closer, all joking dropped.
“Sometimes I can’t believe he’s not here. It’s ironic that for years we lived out lives in secret, yet here I now am with you all.”
“It’s wrong what happened to you guys.” I link my arm through his and squeeze tight.
“You’ve changed everything, Faith. It’s you. I just hope you see that.”
His words make me still. Within my chest my heart thumps with a pounding beat. Once upon a time I didn’t think I would even be able to change things for myself. I cast my gaze around the reception room of my home, all the girls dressed up and giggling, a fair few of them seem to be ogling my soon-to-be husband.
Now I could be changing things for them, too.
Turning back to Jeremy, I lean in and pull him tight into my arms. Another hug. “He’ll always be with us, with you, and his memory will still thrive in everything we have.”
Jennifer comes over and interrupts us, although it’s probably a good thing because this conversation Jeremy and I have going can only end in tears. “Faith, are you ready for your speech? And then The Telegraph want to interview you for their weekend supplement.”
“Really?”
She smiles and nods, her eyes blazing just like Elijah’s. “Really. Now, come on, where are your notes for your welcome speech?”
“I didn’t make any.”
Her face is a picture. “Off you go then.”
“Come with me. This is ours.”
“No. It’s yours.”
I let her push me forward and with a deep breath stretching my lungs like old elastic, I make my way to the centre of the room. I specifically wanted this to be low key and informal; it’s my entire vision for our charity. It’s a place for girls to go to chill, not endless paperwork and rules. Rules are a thing of the past. The only rule we need now is respect.
I clink a glass, taken aback when the room hushes far quicker than I am expecting, all eyes turned on me.
Abi and Saskia give me a thumbs up. I might puke. Why didn’t I write notes? Relaxed and unplanned was a stupid idea.
“Hi.” I chuckle nervously, my eyes scanning for Elijah. He’s propped against the far wall, giving the space he thinks I need to make this my own. I don’t want space. I want him to hold my hand to stop it shaking.
Breathe.
“A hug is a funny thing, isn’t it?” I look over at all the girls who are mainly staring at my ink. “It’s something you give in passing. A simple act of wrapping your arms around another person and squeezing tight, showing with the flex of your muscles the love you feel on the inside.” I stop and lick my lips. Is it hot in here or is it me?
Inside my tummy there’s a gentle flutter, the baby rolling, enjoying being rocked as I stand.
“Sometimes a hug doesn’t feel right. It lasts for a moment too long. It precedes an awkward conversation which your gut already told you was coming because the hug didn’t feel right.
“Sometimes the hug doesn’t come at all no matter how hard you long for it or wait for it.” I stutter a little h
ere, my heart thrumming like a caged bird. My eyes meet Eli’s.
“Sometimes the perfect hug arrives, and you want to catch it and hold it tight so you can feel it forever. Regardless the idea behind H.U.G. is that young women from the age of fourteen have somewhere to go. A place where adults aren’t there to tell you what to do, but rather to encourage you to explore yourself: through art, through music, anything. Make-up. Ink… Although over-eighteens only please for that one.” There’s a murmur of a laugh and I allow my body to relax its tight hold.
“It’s a place for us all to be ourselves. Speak when we are worried, laugh when we are happy, grieve when we are sad. It’s a place for us to whisper our worries with no fear of how it might be received.”
I swallow hard. Alarming tears prickle my eyes.
“My life has been shaped and cursed by a hug that lasted too long, that led me to dark fears and even darker regret. Let’s take this moment to make a promise to stop that from happening. Help Under Guidance will do just that: give help to those who need it, guide those who are lost, and prevent lifetimes of regret for those who don’t need to live their lives in fear.”
Everyone is still and watching.
My cheeks burn like I’m under a thousand suns.
“I’d like to thank the Faircloughs, especially Baroness Fairclough for her endless support, and Channel 4 for making this happen. Thank you for coming, enjoy the party.”
There’s loud applause but I can’t see a damn thing. The room is spinning too fast. Then his hands are on my arms, anchoring me down, the blues finding me in the darkness.
“My sunshine.” His lips press against my forehead.
I wrap my arms tight around him uncaring of who sees.
“You make every fight worthwhile.” I kiss him, hoping he can feel my promise in the movement of my lips.
Thirty
“I can’t believe my fiancée is going to be a TV star.”
I groan and throw one of my toast crusts at him. He looks beautiful in his navy suit. His tie matches his eyes and he’s lucky I’m on a tight schedule otherwise I’d be pulling him back up to the bedroom.