A Natural Act (Contradictions) (31 page)

I take
what has become my usual seat at the bar and wave at the familiar faces. I’ve taken to keeping Carla company on some of the quieter nights whilst she serves at ‘Scott’s Bar’.

“
Hey, Izzie!” Her partner in crime greets me.

I didn’t really like the nickname at first but it’s growing on me.

“Hey, Tucker!” I shout across.

“
Your fan club is here again,” he nods his head towards the back of the room.

I turn my gaze to where he’s pointing and I’m unsurprised to see one of the twins there. If it’s not one of the Carter brothers, it’s one of their friends. They’re never rude or problematic. They try to keep out of my way and they’re polite and friendly if I speak to them.

It seems their promise to keep me safe extends beyond the realms of my relationship with their brother. I admire that.

Nigel has been quiet since I filed charges against him the previous weekend though. I did it on my own. Carla offered to come but I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it alone.

I’m hoping the message has been received and he’s backing off until the case goes to court.

“
Might as well send him a drink over,” I shake my head in amusement.

“
Carla already on it,” Tucker grins. “What can I get you?”

I cock my head at him because he knows I always have the same drink. Orange juice, straight up.

“Adventurous as ever,” he laughs at me, watching Carla as she pours me a drink.

I’ve suspected from the beginning that he has a bit of a crush on her but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Wait,” he interrupts her as she starts to pass me the drink. He pops a little umbrella and a cocktail stick with pineapple into my drink and winks at me. “You can at least pretend you’re drinking something exciting.”

“
Thanks,” I roll my eyes at him but I can’t hide my amusement.

“
Tucker,” Carla slaps at him with her towel. “Stop hitting on my girl.”

“
You’re the only one for me, Carla,” he beams at her, bending down on one knee.

She just laughs and shakes her head.

He turns as shrugs at me and I laugh to because he doesn’t stand a chance against Simon. Carla is well and truly happy and in love.

I’m not jealous. I’m not.

Simon’s ears must have been burning because he comes into the bar looking rather exhausted. He’s home from his postgraduate position at Leeds uni for a few weeks and he’s here more often than I am.

He nods over to whichever twin is stalking me and comes to sit by me.

“Isabella,” he nods his head at me before leaning over the bar to give Carla the full on kiss he knows she wants.

“
Hey, hot stuff,” she winks at him, oblivious to the way Tucker watches the scene with a sad puppy expression.

“
Babe,” Simon nods before turning to me. “Your bodyguards are still on the case I see?” He grins at me.

“
I’ve tried telling them they can go,” I shake my head in amusement because it seems being stubborn runs in the family.

“
You’re telling me,” he groans, rotating his shoulder.

I instinctively know he’s just come from a training session with Craig and I resist the barrage of questions that form on the tip of my tongue.

“You look like crap,” Carla tells him, pouting in sympathy as she hands him a pint.

“
Feel it,” he nods. “Carter kicked my- Shit. Sorry, Isabella.”

“
You can say his name around me, Simon,” I shake my head and force a smile. “He’s not He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

“
He’s not far off,” Carla grumbles. She’s still mad at him although she doesn’t need to be.

He wanted it over and I didn’t. There was no nice way for him to end it. I can’
t be mad at him for that even if I can be mad at him for making me fall in love with him first place.

“
Well, he’s a miserable bastard,” Simon says before taking a large gulp of his beer.

I feel like the fact that Craig is miserable should make me feel better.

It doesn’t.

Despite everything, I just want him to be happy. Even if it is without me. He’s a good person and he deserves that.

“Know what they say, Izzy,” Tucker cuts in, bending over the bar to get closer to me. “Best way to get over a man is to get under another one.”

He winks at me and I know he’s joking but Simon obviously doesn’t.

“Careful,” he warns Tucker. “They may have broken up but Carter still loves her. His brother over there sees you hitting on Isabella, you might end up worse for wear.”

“
That’s his problem,” I snap at Simon. “He doesn’t get to decide whether I see somebody else or not.”

Simon’s eyes widen in surprise but he raises his hands and backs off.

“You tell him, doll,” Carla cheers, sticking her tongue out at Simon.

“
Fuck’s sake,” Simon shakes his head. “You know what Carter’s like.”

“
I do,” Carla chimes in. “He’s not gonna like it. Which is exactly why you should do it.”

I shake my head and chuckle.
“I’m not going to sleep with somebody just to get back at him, Carla.”

“
Well, if you decide to take that route,” Tucker calls over.

“
You’ll be the last person I call,” I tease him.

“
Ouch,” he feigns a shot to the heart, clasping his chest and falling a few steps back.

Simon chuckles and takes another swig of his beer.
“Still have his number?”

Carla and I both raise
an eyebrow at him because we both know what he’s doing.

“
Yes,” I answer slowly.

Simon nods and mumbles his response.
“Just wondered.”

Carla reaches over the bare and whacks him with her bar towel.
“Don’t you dare use my friendship with Isabella to feed information back to your boy!”

“
I wasn’t-” He starts to defend himself but she whacks him again.

“
And don’t you dare to lie to me!”

Rather than looking ashamed or apologetic, he looks like he wants to rip her clothes off and take her on the bar. I suspect he quite likes his feisty, pixie-like, handful.

“Apologise,” she orders, pointing her finger at him.

He grins and shakes his head.
“Sorry, Isabella,” he sing songs like a child following the instruction of a teacher but not really meaning it.

I chuckle and shake my head.

“Just you haven’t called him.”

“
Of course I haven’t called him. Why would I call him?” I shake my head exasperatedly.

Simon shrugs like he’s said enough.

I try to shake off my irritation but I can’t; it irks me that he’d expect me to call.

Why would I do that to myself? I can’t talk to the man who holds my heart knowing he doesn’t want to be with any more.

I know he’s done a lot for me and I’m sure I owe him something. One day maybe I can see him as a friend but not for the foreseeable future; it’s all too raw.

“
I’ll call him for you if you like?” Carla offers. “And tell him what a dick he is.”

“
You’ve done that enough,” Simon snickers.

“
Nowhere near enough,” she argues with a pout which Simon promptly leans forward and kisses.

She grins and disappears
to the other end of the bar to serve some of the other patrons. With Tucker in the back room, I’m left alone with Simon.

“
He misses you, Isabella,” Simon mumbles, seemingly uncomfortable with the discussion.

I don’t answer but take a sip of my drink. He ended it, he doesn’t get to miss me.

“He knows where I am,” I respond eventually.

“
He’s trying to give you space.”

“
He said all this?” I raise an eyebrow because even if they’re friends, Craig doesn’t do talking.

“
Not directly,” he admits awkwardly.

“
He hasn’t said anything has he?” I clench my teeth.

He shakes his head.
“He doesn’t have to.”

“
Because you’re psychic?” I ask sarcastically.

“
Because he’s not himself.”

“
He’s never himself, Simon,” I answer wryly because I can’t be the only one who notices that he adapts a different personality depending on who he’s with. I wish I could say I never knew the real Craig but I did. He’s the one I fell in love with.

“
Maybe,” Simon admits. “But he’s like a lost soul at the minute.”

Good. Then he knows how I feel. I’m lost and wandering aimlessly but at least I’m trying to find some direction.

My work is a source of great comfort to me. I can do something I enjoy whilst helping people and my break up with Craig has had zero impact on my working relationship with Megan and Eric. They’re my employers and wonderful people, my ex-relationship with their nephew isn’t relevant to the work I do.

Sometimes I get the feeling Megan wants to comfort me or say something but she always seems to decide better. I appreciate her silent support.

“Gotta say, Isabella,” Simon turns to me. “I know you’re hurting but you’re so dignified in all of this. Got a lot of respect for you.”

“
Thank you,” I answer incapable of hiding my surprise.

“
Don’t be too flattered,” Carla returns to her position on the opposite side of the bar. “He just hates crying women.”

“
You don’t cry,” Simon tells her.

“
You wouldn’t cry if Simon ended it with you like Craig did to me?” I ask her because I find it hard to believe anybody could survive a broken heart without shedding tears to mark the loss.

“
Probably would,” she admits. “But not until after I resculpted his genitals with a kitchen knife.”

“
Noted,” Simon cringes, cupping his package protectively. “Should I warn Carter to wear a cup from now on?”

I manage a small laugh because I do think I could do some damage with Tazer and a super strong magnet.
I dismiss the idea but file it at the back of my mind in case I do fancy getting my revenge one day.

“
He’s safe,” I shake my head in response. “For now.”

“
Not from me,” Carla warns.

“
Carla,” Simon sighs. “You two have been friends for years. You really going to stay mad at him over this?”

“
Absolutely,” she returns adamantly. “He knew what he was doing when he promised her a relationship. She deserves better.”

“
Well,” I interject with a swell of affection in my heart for my feisty best friend. “
She
is going home because it’s late.”

I hug them both
and wrap my coat around me for the short walk back to the flat. It’s quite a warm evening and the temperature is quite mild, even as we approach autumn.

As I walk, I think about what Simon said. I’m angry at Craig for missing me when he was the one that gave me up. Of course I miss him too but I’ve lost too many years already because of a man who didn’t treat me as he should have.

I have a new opportunity before me and I intend to seize it, letting my pain take a back seat.

I grin as I let myself into the flat because I bought some luxury hot chocolate a few days ago and I haven’t gotten round to trying it yet. A frothy cup of creamy happiness in a bubble bath sounds like heaven right now.

How can a door be so terrifying?
It's not just the door but also the act of knocking. The chance that somebody may respond and that door may open. The potential for the door to be slammed in my face when that happens.

I ignore the ache in my chest which reminds me I should have had Craig here to suppo
rt me. I don't need his support; I'm strong enough to do this on my own.

I also ignore the little voice that tells me I need him in general.

Taking a deep breath, I nod to myself and raise my knuckles to the door. I rap three times decisively because I both want and need to do this, no matter how scary it may be.

The wait feels like an eternity. I could have been waiting mere seconds but it feels like I've aged years by the time the door slowly pulls open.

Mum is still drying her hands on a tea towel as she pulls the door open and doesn't look up at me straight away.

When she does, she freezes. It's hard to believe she can have aged so much in just a few years. Her eyes look tired and her hair has turned dark grey in most places. It's almost like looking at a different woman and that gives me pause for thought. Who does she see when she looks at
me?

She remains stood completely still, the dampened tea towel hanging limply from her hand.

“Hi, mum,” I murmur lamely.

“
Isabella,” she screams, dropping the tea towel to throw her arms around me.

I’m so shocked that I just stand there lamely as she crushes me in her arms. It takes me a few seconds to comprehend what’s happening and move my arms to hug her back.

“Frank! Frank!” She yells, pulling back and turning into the house.

My dad comes hurtling down the stairs at the sound of my mum’s screaming. He looks concerned until he catches sight of me
. He too comes to a standstill.

He swallows as his eyes scan me from head to toe. He looks like he’s lost a small amount of weight but he’s still my dad.

“Sweetpea,” he exclaims, dashing forwards to embrace me in his arms.

Mum joins in and we stand ther
e, still on the doorstep, a mass of locked arms and trembling tears.

I blubber my apologies in an endless and probably unintelligible stream. Dad ushers us in to the lounge and helps us both down onto the sofa.

“I’m so sorry,” I sniffle again, accepting the box of tissues.

“
Don’t be silly, you saft thing,” Dad squeezes my hand. “We’re just glad to see you, Sweetpea.”

“
I said awful things,” I shake my head.

“
Yes you did,” he scolds me. “But I think those words might have been put in your mouth.”

I look up
at him in surprise because I didn’t expect them to understand without me having to explain.

“
I still shouldn’t have said them,” I cringe with embarrassment.

“
No you shouldn’t,” my mum agrees with a firm jaw. “But I’m just glad you left that awful man.”

“
How do you know I left?” I ask in surprise.

“
You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t gotten rid of him,” Dad shakes his head.

“
Oh, Bella,” mum sighs in relief. “He was an awful man.”

“
He was,” I agree and they don’t know the half of it. “And he turned me into an awful person too.”

“
You can’t change the core of a person,” my mum smiles. “But he derailed you temporarily.”

“
I missed you guys so much,” I start blubbering again.

“
We missed you too, Sweetpea,” dad assure me with another squeeze of my hand.

“
You seemed happy with him at first,” Mum’s chin quivers as she speaks. “But then the smiles slowly faded and so did my daughter. He was vile and snobbish.”

I nod my head because I agree.

“What happened?” Mum asks, she’s always been intuitive. She can probably see the story on my face.

“
What do you mean what happened?” Dad asks. “She left him because he was an up himself arsehole.”

“
That too,” I manage a giggle because he spoke with such passionate commitment and I have to agree. “But it was more than that.”

I take a deep breath and prepare to admit my shame to the people who brought me into this world. It’s still hard to admit to people but it’s even harder to tell the people who have been hurt the most by my relationship with Nigel.

“He almost killed me,” I murmur in a small voice that I barely recognise.

“
What?” Dad’s head snaps round so fast I’m almost worried it will break.

“
He used to… he was quite violent,” I admit, forcing myself to keep my head high and my voice stronger.

“
Oh, Isabella,” Mum croons, reaching for my hand.

“
It got worse with time,” I continue. “But when I refused to accept his engagement at New Year… he almost killed me.”

“
Fucking bastard,” Dad curses. The expletive is given extra venom by the expression on his face. If Nigel were here now, he’d not be living much longer.

“
Frank,” Mum scolds him for his language but with very little conviction.

“
I’m not using that as an excuse for my behaviour,” I hasten to add. “Just as a back story. I came here today to offer my apologies because nobody deserves to be treated the way I treated you.

I am not, not will I ever be, ashamed of my wonderful parents and all that they have done for me.
”

Mum is in tears by this point and she wraps her arms around me so that we can cry together.

My mum’s arms feel like home and it’s so nice to be back here.

“
You look much better now, Bella,” mum tells me, smiling happily as she squeeze both my hands in hers. “Happier, healthier.”

“
I’m getting there,” I nod.

“
You’ve put weight on,” dad announces happily and mum cringes.

“
Did you just call me fat?” I tease him because it’s nice to be able to introduce some light-hearted banter.

“
No… I… urm,” Dad stammers.

“
Of course he wasn’t,” Mum chuckles. “You look radiant, Bella. You were starting to look skeletal last time we saw you.”

“
I have put a bit of weight on,” I admit. “But I think I needed to.”

“
Well you look wonderful,” Dad booms happily. “Let me get you some tea and biscuits.”

He disappears into the kitchen and I can hear cupboard doors banging and dishes clanking as he works.

“How have you both been?” I ask mum, knowing Dad will tell me they’ve been fine no matter what.

“
Not bad, petal. Not bad,” she smiles. “Your dad got a bit ill last year and we had a scare or two but he’s doing much better.”

“
What do you mean a scare?” I frown, the idea of my dad being ill physically painful too me. He’s always been a pinnacle of strength and health.

“
Well he had some trouble with his heart,” she explains.

“
Mum,” I frown because she’s not telling me everything.

“
He had a stroke,” she looks down and wrings her hands.

“
No,” I shake my head because I don’t want to believe it. Not my dad.

What’s almost as painful as discovering my parent’s suffering is realising they didn’t tell me. He had a stroke and they thought I hated them so much I didn’t want to know.

“He’s fine now, Bella,” mum sooths, stroking my hair as a silently shed tears. “He’s started running and he’s eating healthily.”

“
He could have died,” I blubber.

“
Don’t be daft,” Dad comes back into the room with a chuckle and placing the tea tray on the table. “Not getting rid of me that easily.”

“
Dad,” I reprimand him though my sniffled. “This isn’t a joke.”

“
It was a tiny stroke,” he scoffs. “I’m fine now, look.” He flexes his muscles and wiggles his eyebrows.

“
I didn’t know,” I shake my head.

“
Oh, sweetheart,” mum squeeze my hand. “We would have called you if it had been serious.”

She’s being truthful but I swallow and close my eyes because the call would have been answered by Nigel. He might not have told me. Or he might have told me and not let me go. Or used the knowledge to manipulate me further.

The man is pure evil.

“
Even though you were mad at me?” I nibble my lower lip.

“
We were never mad at you, petal,” Mum shakes her head.

“
We thought you were a bit mad though,” Dad laughs at his own joke.

“
We understood that you wanted better for yourself. We didn’t understand why that meant we weren’t good enough anymore,” Mum tries to joke but I can see that it still plagues her.

“
It was never you that wasn’t good enough,” I tell her earnestly. “It was me. I don’t deserve parents like you.”

“
Enough of this emotional rubbish,” Dad pats me on the head. “It’s like having a teenage time bomb in the house again. Your mum only lets me have biscuits on special occasions.

I’d say our little girl coming home to us is very special.
”

I grin because it’s just like my dad to not want to talk about the emotional stuff and focus on the biscuits.

“Tell us what you’re up to now,” he asks around a biscuit.

“
Well,” I grin. “I’ve got a new job working for a charity called ‘Supporting Arms’, we work to provide legal aid and advice for military servicemen and women and their families.”

“
That sounds wonderful!” Dad exclaims and I can see the pride in his eyes.

“
Fantastic!” Mum cries with a matching sparkle in her eyes.

“
It’s brilliant. I absolutely love it,” I assert. “I feel like I’ve found my groove, like all the studying was finally worthwhile.”

“
We’re so happy for you, Bella,” Mum sings, joy clear on her face. “Where are you living?”

“
Well, I’m staying in somebody’s flat for the moment. Until I can afford a deposit for a house.”

“
Our little girl trying to get on the property ladder,” Dad grabs mum’s shoulder and gives her a one armed hug.

“
I’m twenty-five, Dad,” I tease him.

“
And you’re still my little girl,” he beams back. “Always will be.”

I shake my head but I’m smiling and it’s the most genuine smile I’ve worn for the last six weeks.

“Nigel causing any problems?” Dad frets once he’s finished his second biscuit.

“
Not at the moment. He was texting and calling a lot but I filed charges against him and he seems to have backed off.”

“
Good,” he breathes a sigh of relief.

I contemplate telling him the threat he poses but there’s no need. The Carter boys don’t seem to be going anywhere and – like I said – Nigel seem to have finally gotten the message.

“Everything seems great for you now, Bella,” Mum smiles. “But I can’t figure out why you still seem slightly sad.”

I sigh because I didn’t come here to talk about him but it seems I’ll have to.

“When I was in hospital, a doctor there took a special interest. He tried to help me and that help ended up being more than either of us bargained for.

He gave me somewhere to live, introduced me to the person who gave me my new job
, and the person who is now my dearest friend.

He brought me into a family of people who
have promised to keep me safe if Nigel should cause any problems. He gave me back my life.”

“
He sounds like a very good man,” Mum replies hesitantly.

“
He is. One of the best,” I remember with a sad smile. “We fell in love.”

“
That must have happened quickly,” Dad remarks.

“
Perhaps too quickly,” I agree. “But it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. He just doesn’t believe that I love him.”

“
Why not?” Mum frowns.

“
I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since he finished it last month,” I lament. “I know he loves me.”

“
You moved into the relationship very quickly after escaping Nigel,” Mum remarks cautiously. “Maybe he was worried you still had feelings for Nigel?”

I shake my head adamantly.
“Not a chance. He saw what Nigel did to me.”