Chapter Six

A colossal hangover hit her the moment she opened her eyes. The living area ceiling spun around and she closed them again. Someone moved under her and sighed. She ran her tongue over her lips and jumped. Just what the hell was going on here? Her lips felt huge and sore. The person moved again and ran the palm of a hand across her front. She winced as the hand reached her nipples. They, too, were hard. And very sore. The pain made her wince and she opened her eyes again. She was on one of the sofas. Her head was resting in Stephen’s lap and he was staring sleepily down at her. She looked at her watch and swore.

“Stephen? Bloody hell, Stephen. It’s five to nine. I have to get Tommy to school.”

He stared at her in disbelief then ran his tongue over his lips. He grunted, running a hand through his hair, making it all stand on end.

“Five to what?” he murmured.

She tilted her head back to look at him. His lips were red and swollen, his jacket was nowhere to be seen, and his shirt was undone. What the hell had they done to each other? He looks as bad as I feel, she thought. As well as his swollen lips, there were little bruises on his chest and neck. I must have done that to him, she realized. He’s going to think I’m some kind of animal.

“Nine. God, I have to get Tommy up and out. Are you awake?”

He glanced at the clock then back at her and she watched his eyes as they travelled down from her lips to her breasts but she could tell that what he saw was not registering with his brain.

He groaned. “Yes. Sort of. I’d better jump in the shower.” He groaned again. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Ow.” He woke fully and sat up straight, clutching his head. “My head.”

Struggling out of the depths of the sofa, she clutched her head, then searched for her shoes. Somehow, the red dress was still around her waist. Taking another horrified glance at him, noting that his trousers were undone, she left the living area.

Hurrying into her bedroom, she went to the mirror. She looked like she had been attacked. The thing was, she couldn’t remember a bloody thing. Now she had to shower and find some clean clothes and somehow get Tommy to school. 

Sliding the dress down her legs, she froze. She wasn’t wearing her tights. Or her panties. She covered her face with her hands. No. Kissing and a lot of groping, yes, considering the state they’d both been in, but had they really been that drunk? Had they gone all the way? For the life of her, she couldn’t remember a bloody thing.

Going to the bathroom, she managed to shower, dry her hair, and get dressed in the space of fifteen minutes.

“Tommy?” She opened his bedroom door, went inside, and found him sitting up in bed with a puzzled expression. “I’m really sorry, I overslept. I know you’re late for school but I’ll get you there as quickly as I can. Can you get dressed for me, please?”

“Okay, Mummy.”

“Good boy.”

Outside the living area, she stopped to try and calm herself. Was Stephen still in there? Opening the door slowly, she peered inside. No, the room was empty and she went in. She crawled around the sofa they’d been on three times before swearing. They had woken up on that sofa so where were her bloody panties?

“Shit. Shit. Shit”

“What are you doing?” A voice asked calmly.

She almost jumped out of her skin. Stephen was standing at the door. Open-mouthed, she stared at him in both consternation and curiosity. His face still bore the brunt of her. His lips were still swollen and she raised a hand to her own face in shame. What the hell had they done to each other last night?

“I, um…”

“Looking for these?” He reached into his trouser pocket and her tights and panties emerged. Both her hands flew to her mouth. “Here.”

She took them and stuffed them into her jeans pocket.

He went to the kitchen, returning with the bottle of whisky. 

“Between us, we drank almost half of this. On top of what we drank at the restaurant and pub. So I can’t remember anything either.” He put the bottle on the coffee table. “What if you’d found the panties? Would you have told me?”

“Yes, I would,” she replied at once. “But all I wanted to do first was find them and try and remember what we’d done because I honestly can’t remember a thing. I feel cheap, okay? And now I have to bring Tommy to school and then go to a chemist.”

“A chemist?” he repeated sharply. “Why?” She hesitated. “Becca, tell me?”

She cringed. “I’m not on the pill and I couldn’t find any condoms on the floor. Stephen, I need the morning after pill. I honestly don’t know if we did anything but I just can’t take the chance.”

He closed his eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. “You’re not cheap. I’m sorry if I made you think that. I’m just angry at myself. If something did happen last night, I didn’t want it to have happened while we were drunk. I’ll drive you and Tommy to school then I’ll bring you to wherever you need to go. You are not going on your own,” he insisted as she opened her mouth to argue. “No excuses. Just let me change my clothes and ring work. I’ll be a couple of minutes.”

As soon as he went into the hall and she heard a door close, she went to Tommy’s room. “Ready?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“Because we’re very late, Daddy’s driving us,” she explained. “Can you manage to eat a banana in the car?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Bring your satchel out to the hall and I’ll fetch one for you and an apple for break time.”

The three of them went down in the lift to the underground car park and got into Stephen’s car. After making sure that Tommy had his seat belt on properly, she passed him the banana.

“Pass me the skin when you’ve finished.”

She went into the school with Tommy and apologized to his teacher for him being almost an hour late before kissing him goodbye and returning to the car.

“You’ll have to give me directions, Becca,” Stephen told her. “I don’t know what chemist’s you want to go to.”

“There’s a big chemist’s not too far away, I’ll go there. Take the next turn left. There’s a car park on the right. Park in there.” He parked and looked at her. Her cheeks burned again. “You really don’t…”

“I really do,” he replied firmly but gently. “I’ll wait at the door. Then we’ll go for a coffee.”

She left the chemist twenty minutes later with the package in her hands. They crossed the street and he followed her into a convenience store.

“I said we’d go for a coffee,” he said, watching her buy a bottle of water.

“You really think I’m going to sit in a coffee shop, or café, or whatever and take the pill there?”

“You want to go back to the car for a few minutes, then?” he offered.

“Yes, please.”

“Is that it?” he asked, as she got into the passenger seat, taking the packet out of the paper bag.

“Yes, and I take the pill now.” Extracting the pill, she put it in her mouth. Taking a big gulp of water from the bottle, she swallowed, but the bloody thing wouldn’t go down. If only he would stop looking at her with such sympathy. Why wasn’t he running a mile, like any normal man would do in this situation? “Bugger it.” She took another gulp of water and nearly choked.

“Becca?” He began patting her back awkwardly.

“Harder,” she gasped, and he started thumping. “Okay. Okay. Stop.”

“It’s gone down?”

She nodded. “Thanks. I don’t usually choke on tablets.”  

“Do you want to go for that coffee now? I don’t know about you but I really need one.”

“Yes, please. My head is throbbing. I haven’t had a hangover for years.”

“Becca.” Getting out of the car, he came around to the passenger side and crouched down. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I’m usually really responsible with contraception but we were drunk. It seems that neither of us old fogies can hold our drink anymore. Let’s forget about it. I’ll be okay.”

He nodded then ran a thumb lightly over her swollen lips before giving them a gentle  kiss. “Let’s find a café.”

“Good. I need a lot of caffeine.” She mustered up a smile.

“Me too.” 

In a nearby coffee shop, they were served two large mugs of strong black coffee and they sat silently at their corner table as they drank.

“Becca.” He spoke suddenly and she peered up from her mug. “I can’t forget about it. I don’t think you’re cheap, or anything like that. Like you said, we were drunk. I just wish I could remember because I always had this thing in my head that when I did sleep with someone again, it would be with you.”

“I wish I could remember, too, and I’m angry at myself for not being able to remember.” Reaching out, she touched his still swollen lips with her fingers. “Because I had that thing, as well. That the next time I slept with someone, it would be with you, but I couldn’t while you were keeping things from me.”

“Is that why you screamed my name when you were with Jack?”

She shuddered. “Yes, but I don’t want to even think about him.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Do your lips still hurt?” she couldn’t help but ask. “This hot coffee is killing mine, but I need the caffeine.”

“They’re tingling. And the coffee isn’t helping them one bit but I haven’t had a hangover this bad in years. If we did have sex, it must have been bloody good.”

“It always was bloody good,” she added, and he laughed.

“Looking back, I’m surprised that hotel bed in Brighton survived, the abuse it got.”

“Expensive hotel – tough bed. You ready to go?”

He swirled the last of his coffee around in his mug before draining it. “Now, I’m ready.”

They walked a little way back along the street to the car park before she spoke.

“I’ve always wanted Tommy to have a brother or sister, just not right now. We need to sort ourselves out first.”

“We won’t rush into anything,” he said softly, and she felt him reaching for and squeezing her hand.

“No.” She shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. She groaned. Oh, no, her stomach. She wasn’t going to throw up right front of him and bring the pill back up, was she?

“Are you okay?” he demanded. “Becca?”

“No, I feel rotten. I think it’s the pill, and I took it on an empty stomach.”

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. “More water? Coffee?”

“No, thanks. If I’m going to throw up then I’m going to throw up. It just won’t be very pleasant for either of us.”

“Try taking some deep breaths.”

“Yeah.” She did but it made no difference. “Can we go and sit in that park over there for a bit, until I either throw up or it passes? I’m really sorry about this. You should be at work.”

“It doesn’t matter. Of course, we can.” Leading her across the street and into the small park, he sat her down on a wooden bench and sat beside her. “You’re as white as a sheet.” Reaching out, he touched her cheeks and forehead. “And boiling hot.”

“Actually, I’m freezing,” she told him, shivering as if to prove it. “I’m going hot and cold and hot and cold…”

“Here.” Taking his jacket off, he draped it around her shoulders then sat her on his lap and held her. “Feel a bit better?”

“Yes, thanks. I don’t think I’m going to disgrace myself by throwing up in public so that’s a bit of a relief. There’s really nothing worse than that.”

“I know.” Stroking her hair, he kissed her temple. “We can sit here for as long as you like, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks. Oh, God, I haven’t felt quite so rotten in a long time, so I’m really glad I’m with you. I thought you’d run a mile at the first sign of ‘women’s troubles’,” she admitted. “So thanks for sticking around.”

“Of course I’m going to stick around,” he chided gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He smiled and she rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. He really did love her.

It took well over half an hour for the feelings of nausea to pass and she returned with him to the car.

“I feel much better now, and I’m okay to pick Tommy up,” she assured him as he dropped her off in the underground car park. “Thank you for coming with me,” she added, kissing his lips. “Go to work and I’ll see you this evening.”

 

Managing to get a slice of buttered toast and a mug of tea down her, she went to pick Tommy up from school.

As he ran out of the school gates towards her, she heard the squealing of tyres on the road behind her and spun around. A large black SUV with tinted windows had stopped right on the school crossing, the lollipop man having to grab his STOP sign and run for the pavement to avoid being hit, and an enormous man got out carrying a cardboard box.

“Who’s that, Mummy?” Tommy asked as the man approached them, and she grabbed Tommy, pulling him behind her.

“For you, Becca.” The man dropped the box at her feet. “From the Burns boys.”

“Leave me alone,” she stammered. “Tell them to leave me alone.”

The man just gave her an infuriating smile before returning to the SUV. He got inside and it roared away.

“Mummy?” Tommy whimpered and she turned around and gave him a kiss.

“It’s all right,” she lied, just managing to keep her voice even.

“It’s a bomb,” a woman behind her spoke. “Someone call the police.”

“If it was a bomb, wouldn’t it have gone off when he dropped it?” she snapped.

“An expert in these things, are you?” the woman retaliated. “Will someone please call the police?”

Bloody hell, if she didn’t want mass panic, she was going to have to open the box. Crouching down, she scraped at the brown packing tape with her fingernails, before finding an edge and slowly drawing the tape back. Opening the flaps, she stared in disbelief. All five of the photograph albums taken when the flat had been ransacked, plus a red cardboard wallet were packed spine upwards in the box.

“What’s in it?” the woman demanded.

“Not a bomb, so keep your hair on.”

“Nice company you keep,” the woman sneered and Becca heard her walking away.

“Are you all right?” another female voice asked, and a hand was placed on her shoulder, making her flinch.

“Yes,” she replied, straightening up and seeing a woman with purple streaks in her short black hair smiling sympathetically at her. “Thank you.”

“Three kids by three different useless fathers, so she’s a fine one to talk.”

“Oh. I’m sorry about that…frightening you all like that…”

“It’s all right. Get yourself and your little boy home, yes?”

“Yes.”

The woman nodded, taking a little girl’s hand and they crossed the street.

Becca stared at the box for a moment before crouching down again, closing it, and smoothing the packing tape over the opening as best she could. Picking it up, she groaned. It was heavy.

“Are you all right, Mummy?” Tommy asked. “Who was that man?”

“I’m okay, and I don’t know who he was. I have to carry this box home, so stay right beside me, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What would you like to eat?” she asked, her arms aching, as they rode up to the apartment in the lift.

“Alphabetti spaghetti,” he replied immediately.

“All right, but change your clothes first.”

The telephone was ringing as she let them into the apartment. She put the box down on the breakfast bar and ran to answer it but the machine had taken over before she reached the telephone and a male voice was speaking.

“Stephen, it’s Jim. I’ve been leaving messages for you on this number last night and your phone this morning but just in case you didn’t get them, I did as you asked and checked. Yes, it’s true, Ma Burns is dead. She dropped dead on the Costa del Crime a week ago. I don’t know if the remaining sons are bringing her back to London to be buried as they’ll be arrested the moment they step off the plane but I’ll try and find out. Let me know you got this message, won’t you, mate? Cheers.”

The caller hung up and Becca stood rooted to the spot. Her mother was dead.

“Mummy?” She jumped and turned around as Tommy came into the living area. “I can’t find my red sweatshirt.”

“It’s, um, it’s in the washing basket. Come, and I’ll get the green one out for you.”

Taking his hand, she led him back to his bedroom and pulled the green sweatshirt out of the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers. She helped him to put it on then they returned to the living area and she busied herself in making his meal.

“Are you all right, Mummy?” Tommy asked as she put his plate down in front of him. “You look strange.”

“I ate something that didn’t agree with me.” She gave him a little smile. “I’ll be okay.”

Settling him on one of the sofas in front of his Disney DVD a few minutes later, she went to the kitchen and took a pair of rubber gloves out from the cupboard underneath the sink. Pulling them on so she wouldn’t leave any fingerprints, she opened the box, extracted the red cardboard wallet and placed it on the granite worktop. Something was scrawled on the front cover in black felt-tipped pen.

 

SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU WEREN’T ONE OF US

 

What the hell was in it? Taking a step backwards, she threw a glance at Tommy, but he was completely engrossed in the DVD. She inhaled then blew out her cheeks before stepping forward, opening the wallet and taking out a bundle of documents.

The first was a little girl’s birth certificate. Rebecca Roberts – born 31 September 1985. That was her birthday. The parents were listed as Mark Roberts and Paula Roberts, nee Lewis, of no fixed abode. The next document was another birth certificate, this time for Concepta Burns, born 31 September 1985, with the man and woman she thought she knew as her parents listed on it.

Placing the two certificates beside each other, she reached for a third document. It was a photocopy of a receipt for ten thousand pounds signed by her mother and both Mark and Paula Roberts. ‘For Rebecca – now Concepta’, was written above the signatures.

Becca clapped a gloved hand to her mouth. Ma Burns wasn’t her mother. She had been bought. She flipped through the rest of the documents, there were her school reports, cycling proficiency test certificate and swimming badges, but no adoption papers. Bending over the two birth certificates, she examined them carefully. The certificate serial numbers, the entry numbers, plus the dates of registration were all identical. The certificate for Concepta Burns must be a forgery. 

‘From the Burns boys,’ the man had told her. And he had called her Becca, not Concepta. The Burns’ had always called her Concepta.

“All the things I did and went through to get away from them and they weren’t even my family,” she whispered. She crossed the room, opened the door to the roof terrace and went outside. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face up to the sky, feeling drops of rain on her cheeks. “They were never my family.”

“Mummy?” Hearing Tommy’s voice, she opened her eyes. “Mummy, the buzzer.”

“Okay. Thanks, Tommy.” Going back inside, she went to the hall and answered the intercom. “Hello?”

“It’s Mary Connor. May I come up?”

She bit back a curse. This was all she needed. “Yes,” she replied, pressing the door release button. Closing the door to the living area, she opened the front door and waited in the hall. “Mrs Connor.” She greeted her cautiously as Stephen’s mother stepped out of the lift.

“Becca.”

Becca? Not Concepta? Did she just hear right? Was the woman ill? “Is Michael not with you?”

“No, he’s not. I wanted to speak to you alone. He showed me the DNA test result. Thank you for getting it done.”

“It was through necessity, not choice. I would like Tommy to have a grandmother.”

“Is he in there?” Mrs Connor asked, nodding towards the living area, and clearly wondering why they were talking in the hall.

“Yes.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” the older woman added. “You’re as white as a sheet.”

“I’m all right,” she lied. “I’ve just had some news I wasn’t expecting about the Burns’.”

Mrs Connor stiffened. “What have your family done now?”

“They’ve just told me that I was never one of them,” she replied bluntly and saw Mary Connor’s eyes widen. “That I was bought as a baby.”

“Bought? From who?”

“Their names are on my birth certificate,” she explained. “A Mark and Paula Roberts. They were homeless. That is all I know about them. And someone has just left Stephen a message telling him that the woman I thought was my mother is dead.” She rubbed her forehead, suddenly feeling light-headed. “I’m sorry, I’m still trying to take it all in.”

“I’ll come back some other time, then.”

“No.” Reaching out, she grabbed her arm. “You’ve come here to say something. So please say it.”

Mary Connor sighed. “I came here to apologize. There was no need for the DNA test and I feel ashamed for suggesting it. I knew the moment I saw Tommy that Stephen was his father, and suddenly finding myself grandmother to a five-year-old boy…well, I haven’t handled it at all well and I’m sorry.”

Becca nodded, wishing she didn’t feel completely drained so she could savour the apology more. “Thank you. Look, I really need a cup of coffee. Would you like one?”

“Mrs Connor’s face brightened. “I would love one. And to say hello to my grandson.”

They went into the living area and Tommy glanced at them before turning the television off and climbing down from the sofa. “Mummy?”

“It’s all right,” she assured him. “Come and say hello to your granny.”

A clearly nervous Tommy edged forward and Mary Connor crouched down. “Hello, Tommy. I’m sorry about before. Can we start again?”

Tommy shot her a glance and she nodded. “Yes,” he said, turning back to his grandmother. “Want to see my bedroom?”

“I’d love to see your bedroom, Tommy.” Mary Connor took his hand and Becca watched, wishing she had her camera, as they walked across the room and out into the hall.

She made two mugs of coffee, turning as Tommy and his grandmother returned.

“…And Mummy and Daddy painted it for me,” he was telling her.

“Well, it’s lovely and bright. Do you like living here?”

“Yes, it’s great,” Tommy replied enthusiastically and Mrs Connor laughed kindly in reply.

“Coffee,” she announced, holding up a mug.

“I’d better go and drink the coffee your mummy has made me.”

“Okay.” Tommy climbed back onto the sofa and turned the television back on as his grandmother took the mug from her.

“Thank you.”

“My birth certificates,” she told her, indicating the paperwork laid out on the breakfast bar. “This one is forged.”

“Goodness.” Mrs Connor reached out to pick it up but she quickly clasped her hand.

“Don’t touch it. Sorry. It needs to be examined for fingerprints.” Releasing the older woman’s hand then putting the rubber gloves back on, she carefully returned the paperwork to the cardboard wallet and placed it back in the box. “Hopefully, Stephen will be able to find something out about my real parents.”

“The Burns’ bought you? It’s incredible.”

“I never felt like I belonged to them,” she admitted. “Apart from the fact that I’m blonde and they are all dark, I just never wanted to be like them or be with them. I was so relieved when I was sent away to boarding school and when I finished school, I couldn’t wait to get away from them. And now I know why – I was never one of them in the first place.”

Tommy squealed with laughter at something on the television and they exchanged a smile.

“Will the three of you come to dinner on Sunday?” Mrs Connor asked and Becca failed to hide her surprise. “I want us to try and get on, Becca. Please come?”

“Thank you, yes, we’ll come.”

“Good. I do hope you can find out where you came from.”

“So do I. I’ve never told Tommy anything about the Burns’ so maybe now I can tell him something about my real family. I’d like you and Michael to tell him about Ireland and where you come from, too.”

“We’d love to.”

 

Stephen arrived home at seven o’clock and she got up from her dinner to heat his in the microwave oven for two minutes.

“You’re eating. Good.” He smiled.

“Someone left you a phone message,” she told him, re-taking her seat at the table. “Telling you that my mother’s dead.”

Stephen’s smile vanished. “Oh, God, I’m sorry you had to hear it from a stranger. Yes, Ma Burns had a heart attack last Tuesday in Spain. Her body is being flown back here for burial but her sons aren’t coming back. Becca.” Pulling out a chair, he sat across from her at the table. “I’m not going to lie to you – and there’s no easy way to tell you this but – she wasn’t your mother and her sons aren’t your brothers.”

“I know,” she replied and his eyes widened.

“How?”

“That cardboard box,” she told him, pointing to the breakfast bar. “It was ‘delivered’ to me outside the gates of Tommy’s school.”

“Bloody hell. Are you and Tommy okay?”

“We’re fine.”

Stephen got up and went to the box. “You’ve touched this?”

“I had to. One of the other mums thought it was a bomb, so I had to open it. Then, I had to get it back here. I used rubber gloves to touch everything inside. I was a police officer long enough to know all about fingerprints.”

“Okay, sorry.” Going to the stack of drawers beneath the cutlery drawer, he opened the bottom one and took out a box of latex gloves. Pulling on a pair, he opened the cardboard box. “Your photograph albums and, what’s this?” he asked, picking up the cardboard wallet.

“Documents detailing my life before and after I was sold by my parents and bought by Ma Burns,” she told him, watching as he went through the papers shaking his head. “What else can you tell me? I’ve been on tenterhooks all afternoon.”

“Ma Burns bought you. She bought you as a baby from a couple addicted to the heroin she was selling them. Ten thousand pounds could buy quite a bit of heroin back then.”

“So, what about my real parents?” she asked. “Where are Mark and Paula Roberts now? Do I have any brothers or sisters?”

“Becca.” He sighed. “I’m so sorry, but Mark and Paula Roberts are both dead. It seems they died shortly after they sold you to Ma Burns. We will find out as much as we possibly can about them and whether they had any other children.”

“I’m not sure I want you to.” Tears began to pour down her cheeks and she got up from the table, scraping the chair back. She ran to the sink, sure she was going to throw up this time. She retched but nothing came up and she doubled over in a fit of coughing and tears.

“Becca.” She felt his arms closing around her. “I’m so sorry.”

She wept bitter tears into his chest until no more would come and she raised her head. “Oh, God.” She sniffed. “Look what I’ve done to your jacket, you’re soaked.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like that. I should have checked the telephone messages, as well as my smartphone ones. A lot of people still think I live on my own.”

“We were a bit busy this morning,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, we were.” He gave her a little smile. “Becca, Tommy and I are your family. And my parents. Well, my Dad for now. Let’s give him a bit of time to talk Mum round.”

She spluttered a short laugh. “Your poor dad already has. Your mum was here earlier to apologize and start again with Tommy,” she told him and his eyebrows shot up. “We’ve called a truce and we’re going to them for dinner on Sunday.”

“That’s fantastic. Good old Dad. All my patience and charm comes from him, you know?” That did make her laugh and he kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I can’t believe your original name was Rebecca.”

“I always liked it. Maybe I overheard my…the Burns’ talking. I can’t believe Ma Burns didn’t tell her sons that she’d bought me, though. She used to tell us everything.” She gave a little shrug. “Those documents need to be hidden from Tommy until he’s old enough to understand.”

“The Drugs Squad will need to examine the cardboard box, the photograph albums, and the documents. When we get the wallet back, it will go in the safe.”

“You’ve got a safe?”

“It’s in the wall, behind that print,” he told her, pointing to a canvas print of a field full of poppies. Returning the documents to the wallet, he put the wallet back in the box and closed it. “I’ll put this in my bedroom so Tommy doesn’t see it and touch it.”

“All right.” She watched him pick the box up and leave the room with it before coming back a couple of moments later, pulling the latex gloves off and putting them in the bin. “Let’s eat.” Returning to the microwave, she re-heated his dinner and passed the plate to him before doing the same with her own. “How did you know to start asking questions about them?” she asked, sitting down and picking up her knife and fork.

“The Drugs Squad had heard rumours that Ma Burns was ill out in Spain. That was someone in the squad you heard on the phone confirming her death. John and Bob are now living in Spain full time and the Burns house here in London has all but been abandoned, so the Drugs Squad got a search warrant and it was searched from top to bottom. Nothing of interest was found.”

“Because the documents and other items of interest had already been removed,” she finished.

“Yes. You also need to know that fingerprints found in your flat belong to a known associate of Bob’s. John and Bob left for Spain the day after your flat was ransacked. We think the ‘Goodbye’ message on your living room wall was just that – goodbye.”

“You mean, they’ve really let me go?” she whispered. “They’re really going to leave me alone?”

“Yes,” he replied. “As they told you on the front of the wallet – you’re not one of them.”

“I, um,” she began, getting up from the table again. “I’m just going outside to get a breath of air.”

“Want me to come?”

“No, you eat. I just need to…”

She went to the door to the roof terrace, opened it and went outside. There was a cold breeze and she could feel drops of rain on her face but she didn’t care. She was free. Walking to the glass panels, she peered down at the street and at the people hurrying home from work. She was free, she told herself again. No more having to run and hide and cover her tracks. It had taken almost sixteen years but she was free at last.

Returning to the table, shivering a little, she saw that Stephen had reheated her dinner yet again.

“Thank you.” She kissed his lips before sitting down.

“’You okay?” he asked softly.

Nodding, she began to eat, discovering she was surprisingly hungry. Clearing her plate, she pushed it away and leant forward on her arms. “It’s a cliché but this is the start of the rest of our lives. And this one’s a real old chestnut, but I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. And I want you to make love to me.”

“Now?” he asked, putting his knife and fork down and beginning to smile.

“Now.”

“Okay, I’ll just clear this away,” he told her, nodding towards their dinner plates.

“Want me to put your favourite nightdress on?”

“Silly question,” he chided gently and she smiled, getting to her feet.

Going to her bedroom, she let her hair down and changed into the nightdress. Standing in front of the wardrobe mirror for a few moments, she stared at her reflection. She wasn’t the white sheep of the Burns family after all. So, from which of her parents did she inherit her extraordinary hair from? Where did her stubbornness come from? And her rather large and ugly feet? Did she have brothers or sisters out there somewhere? Maybe she did want to learn something about the couple who sold their baby for drugs after all. Just not yet.

Returning to the living area, she closed the door and saw Stephen standing at the breakfast bar pouring himself a glass of orange juice. She waited for him to put the carton down before speaking.

“Hello.”

He glanced at her before doing a double-take and clapping a hand to his mouth. She walked slowly across the floor to him before taking the glass.

“What shall we drink to, I wonder? Erections?” she suggested, taking a sip of juice and putting the glass down. Reaching out, she gently pulled him towards her by the waistband of his trousers before slowly undoing the button and zip. “Tell me if you want me to stop?” He shook his head and she continued to lower the zip. “Mmm. Boxer shorts.”

He slipped his shoes off, she slowly pushed the trousers down and he stepped out of them.

“Tasteful boxer shorts,” she continued. “Even better. Shame about the rather soggy jacket.”

Shrugging it off, it was flung onto the floor, followed by his tie and shirt. His body was toned, and it was still hard to believe he had been fat.

“Mmm,” she murmured, trailing her fingers down his chest. “Very nice. A question for you, Inspector. Would you like to take down my particulars?”

He smiled. “That’s an old one.”

“The old ones are the best,” she assured him. “Would you like to consult with a solicitor?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary…oh, God,” he gasped as she slipped her hand into his boxer shorts.

“Your particulars are very nice.”

“Can I see yours?” he asked.

Smiling, she stood back from him and pulled the nightdress over her head, dropping it onto the floor beside his clothes. He exhaled a long sigh as he moved forward.

“Ah-ah.” She stopped him, pointing to the boxer shorts. He gave her a grin and took them off. “They’re very nice to look at, too.”

“So are yours,” he murmured, taking her breasts in his hands and rubbing his thumbs across her nipples.

She watched and felt her nipples harden then gasped as he suddenly lifted her onto the cold granite worktop. He lapped her nipples with his tongue then nudged her legs apart with his hips. Pulling her gently to the edge of the worktop, he crouched down and began kissing his way up the inside of one of her thighs and then down the other.

“You big tease.” She smiled, as he straightened up.

He bent his head and began kissing and licking her breasts while sliding a hand between her legs, exploring and rubbing her gently with his thumb. It felt incredible and she began moaning softly.

“I think you like that,” he whispered and she felt him laugh.

She reached down for him but found he was still soft, with no sign of an erection, despite his growing arousal. He grunted as she began to stroke him and his back arched a little.

“I think you like that,” she whispered.

“Mummy?”

She froze and Stephen had to pull her hard against him so only her back was facing the little boy.

“All right, Tommy?” he asked, rather breathlessly, over her shoulder.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Oh. How about a story?” he offered.

“Yes, please, Daddy.”

The hall door closed and she slumped against Stephen. “Sorry. If he asks you what we were doing…”

“I’ll think of something. I’m sorry, I had to pull you like that. Are you okay?” he asked, his hands sliding under her arms, and lifting her down from the worktop. She nodded, reaching for the nightdress and pulling it over her head. “I’ll read to him then make sure he’s asleep.”

He got dressed and went out to the hall. She sighed, taking the glass of orange juice to the door to the roof terrace and peering out at the rain. What if Tommy had walked in on them making love? If it had gone that far. Putting the glass down, she went to her bedroom and put on her bathrobe before going into Tommy’s room.

“All right?” she whispered, seeing that Tommy’s eyes were closed.

Stephen nodded. “Half a page and he was out like a light.” 

Putting the book on the bedside locker, he switched off the lamp and followed her out of the bedroom.

“Did he wonder what we were doing?” she asked.

“No, he didn’t mention a thing. Now, where were we?”

“About to head for your bedroom.”

He smiled, opening the door for her, and she went inside. She switched the bedside lamp on before turning and facing him, undoing the bathrobe, and allowing it to slip off her shoulders. He closed the door, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Need some help with your trousers again?” she offered.

“In a minute. Let me look at you first.”

“Would it help if I pretended to be someone else?”

“No,” he replied firmly, slipping the shirt off and dropping it onto a chair. “No, it’s you I want.”

She felt herself blush and he came forward, taking her shoulders and kissing her. How could she have almost forgotten just how he could kiss? She was the first to break away, panting. Silently, he watched her chest heaving.

“Anything?” she whispered, her heart sinking when he shook his head. “What would you like me to do? Would you like me to try stroking you again?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Tell me?” she urged.

“I don’t know,” he whispered fiercely. “Just looking at you that night gave me an erection and now – nothing.”

“Get undressed and lie down on the bed.”

He sighed and did as he was told. She climbed onto the bed and over him, making sure he could see her breasts straining against the nightdress.

“Remember Brighton?” she asked, taking one of his hands and running his fingers over her breasts.

He grimaced. “How could I forget? It’s what’s been keeping me going.”

“Where are your condoms?”

“You’re optimistic,” he muttered.

“Where are they?”

“In the bathroom cabinet,” he replied, attempting to get up, but she pushed him back down onto the bed.

“Stay there and relax.”

Climbing off the bed, she went to the ensuite bathroom, realizing this was the first time she had been in it. Opening the cabinet, the first thing she saw was a bottle of sleeping pills. They had been prescribed ten months previously, at Christmas, and there were only three left. Reaching for the packet of condoms, she saw to her relief that there were six months to their expiry date.

“One doctor suggested Viagra.” 

She jumped and turned around. He was standing in the doorway and she closed the cabinet door. “Why didn’t you try it?”

“I was already on those pills to help me sleep. I didn’t want more pills to help me get it up as well.”

“Are you still taking the sleeping pills?”

She was relieved to see him shake his head. “I haven’t taken any for months. Are those condoms still okay?”

“Yes, they are. Just. So.” She produced a bright smile. “Tell me why me looking like this gave you an erection that night? And don’t be afraid to touch me.”

She felt his eyes travelling up her body before resting on her breasts. “I never thought I’d see you wear that nightdress again. Especially now that you fill it so…”

“Overwhelmingly?”

He laughed. “Is it too tight?”

She shook her head. “I think I’ve stretched it nearly to its limit. If I were any bigger there’d be an avalanche.”

“An avalanche?” Bending forward, he kissed the swell of her breasts above the lace. “That could be dangerous.”

“Which is why I don’t want to get any bigger. That’s your mission if you choose to accept it?”

“Oh, God, yes.” Feeling his breath on her other breast, she closed her eyes as his hands slid down her back to her buttocks. “Come to the bed.”

Allowing him to guide her to the bed, he laid her down before climbing over her. This was something she had to let him do himself, she decided, in order to make him feel – how could she put it – like a man again. She had to let him take charge.

“Sorry.” He sighed.

“What for?”

“Could you take the nightdress off?”

She sat up, pulling it over her head and dropping it onto the floor. “Better?”

He just smiled, laying her down again. “This is ridiculous, I feel like a bloody virgin.”

“Don’t be nervous,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke his stubbled cheeks. “It’s me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m so bloody terrified.”

“Pretend we’re in Brighton if it helps.”

He nodded and kissed her – a long, slow, and extremely satisfying kiss – and she found herself arching her back and rubbing her breasts against his chest.

“Oh, God.” He laughed, sliding his hands up her body. “I love your breasts.” All she could do was moan as he lowered his head to them, teasing her nipples into hardness with his tongue, and then pulling at them with his lips. “Like that?” he asked. “Tell me you like that?”

She forced out a, “Yes,” as his hand slid between her legs. She felt a tingle of anticipation as he began to explore and then stroke her. She exhaled a moan before feeling him laugh. “What is it?”

“The condoms, where are they?” He raised his head, giving her a grin.

“Here.” Reaching for the packet, she passed it to him. She sat up, watching him, tear open a foil wrapper. His erection stood at full attention – long, thick, and pointing directly at her. “Bloody hell, Stephen.”

“You’re a miracle worker.” He gave her a grin, holding his erection in his hand for a moment, before rolling a condom on and throwing the packet onto the bedside locker.

Opening her legs, she gasped as he entered her – filling her like no other man could –

before he paused, resting his forehead against hers.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured.

“I just want to feel you – taste you.” He encircled one of her nipples with his tongue. “Now that I’m inside you again.”

“It’s been too long.”

He nodded, beginning to rock his hips back and forth, each thrust hitting her slowly and deeply. Her head began thrashing from side to side, her hips rising and falling, making him pick up the pace and feeling the pressure building up deep inside her. He thrust faster and harder, his body slamming against hers, her breasts bouncing almost painfully with the force of his thrusts. She could feel him coming but a little groan from him sent her over the edge, moaning and then screaming with release.

She was positive her orgasm had woken up the entire building, never mind Tommy. Stephen held her to him as she tried to control her breathing, and they listened.

“Nothing,” she whispered and they relaxed, Stephen burying his face in her neck. “Stephen?” Gently lifting his head, she saw tears trickling down his cheeks.

“I never thought I’d ever make love to you again.”

“Never say never.” She tried to wipe his tears away with her fingers but more kept falling.

“And I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Well, if you hadn’t been able to, we’d just have kept on trying.” She smiled. “There’s always fun in trying, and who knows what it might have led to.”

“I missed you so much.”

“I hated you for a long time because of what you did,” she told him. “But I felt hurt more and, God, I missed you, too. When Tommy was born and the midwife passed him to me for the first time, all I could do was cry.” She blew out her cheeks. “Bloody hell, you’re going to have me crying, too.”

“I want you to do something for me.”

“Oh? What?”

“Say you’ll marry me,” he replied, and she clapped a hand to her mouth. “You don’t have to take my name, or you can go double-barrelled, I don’t care. We can look after Tommy together and stand up to whatever life throws at us together. I just want you to marry me?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she whispered, not even having to think about it.

He smiled. “And would you do one other thing for me?”

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll never cut your hair short?”

“Never?” she repeated. “Even when I’m old and grey?”

He nodded, lifting a lock of her hair and letting it trickle through his fingers. “You and your hair will always be beautiful.”

“Then, I promise,” she whispered and kissed his lips.

 

THE END