Trouble In Paradise
Five Months Later – A Sunday in May
‘I GUESS I’D BETTER make a move,’ Weston sighed as he checked his watch.
‘I feel like you only just got here,’ I said, checking mine to see that, as usual, it was only three p.m.
‘Sorry, it’s just I have–’
‘Yes, I know,’ I interrupted, uncoupling myself from his embrace on the sofa and abruptly standing up. ‘You have work to prep for and a “long drive,”’ I air quoted. I grabbed the empty coffee cups off the table and stormed out of the room, heading into the safety of the kitchen, where I hoped to give myself a moment to calm down before he came to say goodbye. No such luck.
‘What’s this supposed to mean?’ he demanded, mimicking my finger quotes.
‘Sarcasm, you’re not familiar with it?’ I retorted as I slammed the cups down into my butler sink, managing to shatter one and cut my finger.
‘For God’s sake, Georgie. What the hell’s wrong with you?’ he demanded. He snatched my hand, put my bleeding finger in his mouth, and sucked it slowly, almost making me melt against him until I remembered why I was angry.
‘You! You’re what’s wrong with me,’ I snapped, ripping my finger out of his mouth and grabbing a sheet of kitchen paper to wrap around it. ‘You live up the road, it’s not like you have to disappear dead on three p.m. every single Sunday. Especially not this weekend, when I didn’t see you Friday or Saturday.’
‘You knew I had that stag party to go to last night, I told you about it weeks ago. Seriously, what’s going on with you?’ he asked with an incredulous look on his face as I glared at him.
‘I’m on, my stomach is bloated, my back hurts, I’m hormonal and irritable as it is, and this racing off at three o’clock each Sunday is starting to do my head in.’
‘I can’t help that I have a life outside of our relationship, Georgie,’ he sighed, as he rummaged in the under-sink cupboard for the first aid kit he’d purchased and stowed there.
‘And there it is,’ I huffed, still glaring at him as he came up brandishing some antiseptic lotion and a plaster. ‘You have a life that I know nothing about, Weston.’
‘That’s unfair. With the exception of my parents and my therapist, you know more about me than anyone, Georgie. Give me your hand.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘I won’t ask again. Give. Me. Your. Hand,’ he barked, returning my scowl with an equally fierce one. He wrapped his fingers gently around my wrist and yanked me towards him, not letting go of his grip as I struggled to pull my hand from his grasp.
‘How long have we been dating?’ I demanded, giving up the fight as he removed the blood-soaked kitchen towel and smeared the antiseptic on the cut, making me hiss as it stung.
‘Is this one of those questions where I choose the wrong option and you beat me to death with the frying pan?’ he drawled, giving me a wary look.
‘You don’t even know when we started dating?’ I asked, feeling my face fall with disappointment.
‘Well, it could be our first date in Mexico, which was on a Friday in April last year, or you could only be counting from when I showed up here on a Saturday in May with Bertie and I gave you a sugared jelly ring. I can name the dates and probably damn close to the exact time if that will end this crappy mood that’s suddenly come from nowhere.’ He wrapped the plaster around my finger and let go of my hand.
‘And there we are again. You’re an expert in reading people and you really think this has come from nowhere?’
‘Georgie, I don’t like playing games. If you’re upset with me, then just say it,’ he sighed, deftly clipping the first aid kit shut and turning to face me.
‘A year, Weston. A whole year of dating and I feel like I hardly know you.’
‘Georgie,’ he growled, a warning flashing in his eyes.
‘I’m not talking about that. Does it hurt that you can’t share that side of you? Of course it does, it makes me feel like I’ll never be enough for you, but you made it clear that wasn’t negotiable.’
‘So, what then?’ he muttered, exasperation lacing his tone as an almost indistinguishable flicker of hurt showed in his eyes for a fleeting moment.
‘There are so many things I don’t know that I’m starting to feel stupid, as people ask me and I can’t answer. I feel like you’re hiding things from me.’
‘Stop talking around the subject, just say what you want to say.’
‘Ok, ok,’ I nodded, holding up my hand and tapping my erect thumb. ‘One. I have no idea where you work when you’re not with clients in their homes.’
‘In a gym,’ he responded dryly.
‘Well, I stand corrected, you do know sarcasm. I meant that I have no idea of the name of the gym or their telephone number.’
‘Why is that a big deal? You have my mobile, you can always contact me wherever I am.’
‘Which leads nicely to point two,’ I shot back, jabbing my raised index finger and hissing as I remembered too late it was the finger I’d cut. ‘I don’t have your home number or your address, and I’ve never even seen where you live.’
‘Again, I repeat, why is that a big deal? I’m available on my mobile and we always hang out here.’
‘Because you’ve never taken me to your house!’
‘Because maybe I’m embarrassed that I live in a small and pokey flat, while you live in a gorgeous country cottage,’ he fired back. ‘What else? How many more fingers do we have to get through, as I need to get home.’
‘Three,’ I bit, deliberately just giving him the middle finger and smirking, which made his scowl even darker. Shit, he was so damn hot when he was annoyed. Stay on track, Georgie, this is important, I warned myself. ‘I’ve never met any of your friends.’
‘I don’t have many. The ones I do are old Army buddies that you’d have nothing in common with.’
‘I get to decide for myself if I like your friends or not, not you.’
‘Is that it?’ he asked coolly, his not-so-subtle look at his watch making my blood ramp up to a scorching-pits-of-hell temperature.
‘Four,’ I virtually shouted, shoving my raised fingers under his nose. ‘I’ve never met any of your family.’
‘After the way things went with your parents, I thought we’d spare ourselves any more embarrassment.’
‘Because I’m not good enough for you?’
‘No, because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, Georgie! I don’t come from an affluent background like you do. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and don’t you even think of interrupting me,’ he bit as I opened my mouth to object. ‘You’ve just fired a load of questions at me, the last one being so far off base, you have no idea. Allow me the courtesy of responding.
‘The most money my parents have ever seen is the part of my paycheques that I sent home when I was serving, to make sure they were financially secure. When I left the Army, I built my business up from scratch, and at home I live frugally, other than a nice car, which gives a better impression when I go to clients’ houses. I’ve set aside every spare penny I have into savings, hoping that one day I’d meet someone I wanted to share my life with, and that money would go towards a wedding, honeymoon, and a home together. I was starting to think that person was you, but this crazy, irrational Georgie isn’t someone I recognise.’
‘Irrational?’ I yelled, my voice reaching new pitches even beyond a dog’s range of hearing. ‘I’ve been so damn rational during our relationship that your brain would implode if you knew how much I’ve been holding back from vocalising my concerns.’
We both snapped our heads around as we heard a whimper from Bertie. My heart sank as I saw he was shaking by the kitchen doorframe, his fretful eyes bouncing between us.
‘You know what, there are things I need to say too. Long overdue things,’ Weston said as he scooped the scared pup up into his arms. ‘But I refuse to do it when you’re screaming at me. Call me when you’re calmer and more like the Georgie I’ve been in love with for nearly a year, as I really don’t like this version of you.’
‘Don’t you dare walk out, Weston,’ I replied, blinking back some tears as he stalked to the hall and grabbed his bag and keys. He was right, I wasn’t myself, but he was as much to blame for that as my hormones.
‘Arguments and raised voices never solve anything. You know where I am when you’ve had time to calm down and you’re ready to talk.’
‘See, you really don’t get it,’ I shouted at him as he threw open the door and headed up the side path to the drive. ‘I don’t know where you are, only how to ring you on your bloody mobile.’
‘Then don’t ring me until you can talk without screaming at me,’ he shouted back.
I watched in disbelief as he reversed out of the drive and shook my head as he disappeared up the lane. Hugging myself tightly, I reached up to wipe away some tears that started crawling down my cheeks. I headed back inside and slammed the front door shut, then plonked myself down at the kitchen table, threw my head onto my crossed arms, and started to sob uncontrollably. I hated arguments and I hated that we’d just had our first fight and he’d left like that, with nothing resolved.
An hour later, with a bright red face and puffy eyes, I was standing outside the old schoolhouse. I pressed the buzzer that had Daphne’s name printed above it. I wasn’t sure how I’d ended up here. I’d left the house with every intention of going to see Abbie, but my feet had carried me here instead.
‘Hello?’
‘Daph … Daphne. It’s … G … Georgie,’ I mumbled between sniffs and sobs.
‘Georgie? My goodness, whatever’s the matter? I can hear you crying. Come on up.’ The click and buzz signalled her opening the communal front door. I tugged it open and ran up the stairs, pacing backwards and forwards as I waited for her to make it to her front door. I quickly blotted my eyes and blew my nose as I heard her turning the lock from the other side.
‘Daphne,’ I sobbed, all my attempts to stem my tears fading as she appeared in the doorway. I threw myself at her, nearly knocking her to the floor as I hugged her tightly.
‘Hey, hey, breathe,’ she coaxed as she rubbed my back. ‘You’ll be sick, and if you hug me any tighter, I’ll pass out.’
‘Sorry,’ I snivelled.
‘Come on in. I’ll put the kettle on, so go and sit in the lounge and take a minute to enjoy the view. We need to calm you down first and then you can tell me all about what, or who, has upset you so much.’
I nodded as I let her go and blew my nose again. My head was pounding hard from crying so much. I settled down on the sofa and did as she’d suggested. The view was incredible and did have a certain calming effect on me.
‘Here we go.’ She trundled in wheeling one of those old-fashioned tea trolleys, complete with a large patterned teapot, a matching milk jug, and three cups and saucers, along with three empty plates.
‘I’m so sorry, Daphne, have I interrupted your afternoon with Mr. Bentley?’
‘No, not at all. And please call him Jack, he insists. It was perfect timing, as it’s his weekly afternoon poker session downstairs. I hope you don’t mind, but as soon as I heard you so upset on the intercom, I messaged Abbie to come over with a box of tissues and cookies. I’m surprised you didn’t go to her first.’
‘Me too,’ I nodded. ‘I just … I guess you’re so wise, Daphne, I really needed your advice. Someone who’s only seen my relationship with Weston from a distance, unlike Abbie, who’s lived it with me, as I think I’ve just ruined it.’ I choked up at the thought of it and dabbed at the corner of my eyes again.
‘Oh dear, I’d hoped it wasn’t to do with Weston,’ she said as she tried to lift the heavy teapot to pour. I quickly took it off her and told her to sit down. I did all three cups of tea just the way I knew we liked them, Daphne’s strong with a dash of milk and two sugars and Abbie’s and mine far weaker with more milk and no sugar. ‘Are things irreparable?’
‘Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t want it to end, but I’m sick of him keeping me at a distance from his own life. I kind of went off about it earlier, yelling at him so much I scared Bertie, and Weston stormed out.’
‘That’s not like you, I’ve never heard you raise your voice.’
‘It takes a lot,’ I agreed with a nod. ‘And I have my period.’
‘Oh, it’s been many a year, but even I remember how cranky I used to get with them. Let’s hope Abbie brings plenty of sugary cookies.’
‘What if I’ve ruined everything?’ I asked in a small, childlike voice, beseeching her with my eyes to reassure me that things were going to be ok.
‘The way that man looks at you, like his life starts and ends with you? I highly doubt it,’ she replied with a smile as she smothered my hand with hers. Both of us jumped when the intercom buzzed loudly. ‘Ah, she made it here in record time. How about you save my legs and go and let her in, then you can tell us everything.’
‘What’s happened?’ Abbie demanded, shoving the large container of cookies on the hall table. She wrapped me in her arms as I started crying again. ‘If he’s hurt you, I’m having a whole flashback to that “killing him” speech I made in Mexico. I’ll do it, you know. Miller knows people who can make his body disappear like that,’ she stated a little too enthusiastically, with a loud snap of her fingers behind my head.
‘I think we’re both to blame,’ I sniffed, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. ‘Did you bring tissues too?’
‘Hello. I’m five months pregnant, tissues are a must. They’re in my bag, I have to carry them everywhere as I cry at anything and everything. I even sobbed when I accidentally stepped on an unsuspecting spider this morning.’
‘You got here so fast. You didn’t run, did you?’ I asked, grabbing the cookie box and linking arms with her as we joined Daphne in the lounge.
‘Run? At my size? I’ve put on so much weight, I can barely manage a waddle. No, I told Miller it was a matter of life or death and he raced me here in his car like a Formula One champion. I only told him Daphne was alive when he pulled up.’
‘Abbie!’ Daphne scolded as she held her arms out for an embrace.
‘Well, it got me here in record time,’ she grinned, doing her best to hug Daphne with her bump in the way. ‘Anyway, what are you complaining about? You got a whole box of cookies out of the deal.’
‘Not at the rate you two eat them, my dentures slow me down. Come on, open them up and dish some out. Poor Georgie is the one dying here.’
Abbie did as she was told, then plopped down on the sofa next to me, her pregnancy weight nearly catapulting me up into the air as she did.
‘So?’ she mumbled through a mouthful of delicious honeycomb cookie. ‘Do I need to hire a hitman?’
‘You might need to hire a detective to spy on him at this rate,’ I sighed as I blew my nose, then took a deep breath and filled them in.
‘I agree. It’s not normal for you to have never met his friends or family, but the points he raised about his job and house make a certain amount of sense,’ Daphne said.
‘Well, I don’t think any of it is normal,’ Abbie chipped in. ‘I’ve been telling you for ages that he’s hiding something. I was oblivious when Miller hid his real identity from me, so I’ve honed my senses like a superhero, I’m more attuned to it now.’
‘Right,’ I replied, giving her the side eye. ‘Coming from the woman who’s so tuned in, she didn’t even know she was pregnant until we guessed.’
‘So what are you going to do, Georgie?’ Daphne asked. ‘I think that you’re equally culpable in this fallout you’ve had.’
‘I love him, Daphne, I really do. But I feel like he’s hiding so much from me. Not just how badly he’s affected by his time in the Army, but his life now, and those are the things I need to know.’
‘No,’ she stated, picking up her fresh cup of tea. ‘They’re things you want to know. Want and need are two very different things. I understand that it might hurt that he’s not willing to open up to you fully, or that he hasn’t been transparent with all aspects of his life, but maybe that’s what he needs to function. You may have to accept that this is as much of him as he’s willing to give. If you can’t, then you need to walk away from him, as neither of you will give each other what you both need.’
‘Damn, she’s so wise,’ Abbie sighed, admiration in her tone. ‘I was just going to suggest hiring Sweet Temptation. They’re the private detective agency Miller used to track down Quinn, and they have an office down in London. They could tail him and get you some of the answers he hasn’t given you.’
‘She is wise,’ I agreed. Maybe that’s what I had to keep reminding myself. I wanted to know, I wanted him to share. I didn’t need him to. Other than me getting worked up over the possibility of him lying to me, which was all due to my insecurities over Greg’s treatment of me, none of these issues had affected our relationship. Until now. Until I’d lost my cool.
‘So, what are you going to do? Call him and demand answers, hire a detective, or apologise?’ Abbie asked.
‘I guess I’ll send an apology text and ask him to come over on Saturday night, like normal, so we can talk.’
‘Will your period have finished by then, as hormonal Georgie needs to be out of sight if we want a different outcome,’ Daphne suggested. I nodded my confirmation.
‘Oh my God, what’s that awful smell?’ I suddenly gasped, quickly hauling my jumper up over my nose.
‘Oh Lord, I thought muck spreading season was over,’ Daphne grimaced, wafting her hand in front of her face.
‘That would be me and baby Davis,’ Abbie groaned, rubbing her belly. ‘Sorry, ladies, I’m as gassy as Sumo was at the moment.’
‘You haven’t been eating those damn sugar-free bears again, have you?’ I mumbled through my facial covering.
‘No,’ she giggled. ‘I’ve decided I’m going to gift wrap them for Lady K on fête day, as a way of apologising for Daphne throwing my poop all over her at last year’s event.’
‘It was an accident,’ Daphne asserted, just as she had on that fateful day.
‘Please, that was no accident. You must have spent ages getting that lid off first, as I’d made doubly sure it was on extra tight.’
‘It was an accident,’ she repeated, with her best poker face.
‘So you expect us to believe that somehow, with your old arthritic fingers, you magically got that lid off in the seconds between me seeing you pick up the box and its contents being deposited all over Lady K?’
‘Shit happens,’ Daphne shrugged, failing to contain a hint of a smile as Abbie roared with laughter, and I started giggling.
‘Daphne, you’re so bad!’