CORAL - Forever (A Romance Trilogy, Book 3) (17 page)

“Ok.” He submits mulishly, returning to his
breakfast. I try to work out why Tristan is acting like this? It’s not like Rob
and I would hit the town, get pissed and party till four in the morning, not
with the state I’m in. I frown down at my mobile and ponder a little more…

Shit! No way!
...I think I’ve worked it out. “Tristan. Rob is my very best friend
and he was the one I would always confide in. You know it’s you now, don’t
you?”

Tristan turns and smiles at me, I can see
the relief behind his eyes. “I do now.”

“He’s still my friend though, I know he’s a
guy, but try and think of him as a girl…you know, he’s my girlfriend, I can
talk to him about…well, girly stuff.”

“Like what?” He asks, bemused.

“Periods, hairstyles, clothing, hormones…shall
I go on?”

Tristan sniggers and shakes his head. “No,
I get it.” He grins.

“Good, so long as you know that,” I say.
“Because I will spend time with him, I’m not going to dump my friend because I
now have a boyfriend…well fiancé…husband to be...” I splutter. “I hate people
like that,” I add, staring down at my hands.

“Me too,” he says. I suddenly feel really
sorry for Tristan; he has no friends of his own. “Hey,” he says lifting my
chin. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
How does he do that?

“Well I do,” I retort.

“Well you shouldn’t,” he says. “I have
everything I have ever wanted in the palm of my hands.”

I swallow hard – He says the sweetest
things! “Me too Tristan.”

“Good, now let’s get you in that bath.”

“Tristan,” I chuckle. “I don’t think I need
help’ – “Coral, what if you accidentally slipped?” He asks. His serious face is
back, he’s not to be argued with. I want to roll my eyes at him and laugh, but
I don’t think he’s in the mood for that. Besides, he has a point.

“You’re right,” I say and head over to
unplug my player…

I LEAN MY HEAD BACK AND CLOSE MY EYES
. Then I sink further down into the bath. My hair is tied up so I
don’t get it wet. Hmm, I’m surrounded by bubbles, and Enya’s music –
Perfect!

Tristan is in the bedroom, looking through
the video footage on my laptop from the CCTV. He said he would make a copy of
what’s recorded so we can give it to the Detective. I feel my stomach flutter
nervously, making me feel nauseous –
Don’t think about that Coral!

I take a deep breath and slowly blow it
out, trying my best to keep myself calm….

“READY?” TRISTAN ASKS AS HE HELPS
me into my long sleeved jumper. I shake my head, I feel sick. I
don’t want to see the detective. I don’t want to talk about what happened
anymore. I just want to forget it all and move on.

“We have to do this, you know that right?”
He says.

“But if we’re dropping the charges…?” I
whisper.

“I don’t think we should do that,” he says.

“Why not?” I frown.

“You know why,” he says. “Besides, seeing
Susannah wrecking your studio and attacking Bob…” He growls, his jaw clenching
several times.

He’s right. – Why
do
I want to save
her? Because part of me doesn’t. She should be punished for what she did, to
Tristan, to Bob and to me –
God I’m so confused!

“Coral.” Tristan tilts my chin round to
look at him. “You can change your mind baby, you know that, right?” I nod and
try to fight against the stupid lump in my throat. I’m getting really pissed
off with this feeling tearful crap! This is not me, I am strong, not weak; and
I have never been like this before…I just don’t understand?

“Hey,” he says gently wrapping his arm
around me. “You’re ok now baby, you’re safe.”

“I know,” I tremble.

“Then why are you so afraid?”

“I just…” I sniff loudly. “I’m just feeling
so emotionally raw at the moment Tristan, and it’s really annoying. I don’t
like feeling like this, I…I’ve never been this tearful before, it’s like…I
don’t know, I’ve been through much worse and I didn’t cry then,” I say, sighing
heavily.

“Worse than getting shot?” He asks
incredulously.
Ok, he has a point!

“No…I guess not,” I sniff. Tristan lets me
go, stands, picks up the box of tissues and hands them to me. “Thanks,” I
whimper and blow my nose. “I’m worried Tristan.”

“About what?” He softy asks.

“That you’ll…well…get fed up of me…” I stop
and shake my head at myself. “I just don’t want you to think I’m like this all
the time, because I’m not!”

“Hey.” He smiles. “I know that Coral, so
please baby don’t worry, it’s wasted energy.”

“Ok,” I mumble.

“We better get down there,” he says holding
his hand out to me.

Reluctantly, I place my hand in his and get
to my feet. I turn to walk towards the bedroom door, but Tristan stops me by
gently tugging on my hand.

“What?” I whisper. Without a word, he pulls
me into him and starts slowly dancing us around the bedroom, humming Some
Enchanted Evening to me. My mind floods with all the memories I have of us so
far, especially the first night he hummed me to sleep with that tune.

“I want to tell you something,” he
whispers, pulling me from my revere.

“Ok.” I smile up at him.

“When I first met you, apart from thinking
you were the most attractive woman I have ever met, I…well, I didn’t quite know
where to look. Your beautiful eyes had captured me, the colour, the shape. I
swear to god I knew then I could stare at your face all day, but then I found
myself drawn to your very sexy lips. I had to stop myself from leaning down and
kissing them, they looked so…so’ – “Kissable?” I interrupt.

Tristan chuckles. “How did you know?”

“Because it’s how I feel about your lips,”
I say, feeling shy again.

“Is it now,” he teases gently twirling me
around.

“Yes,” I giggle.

“And when I followed you up to the
boardroom, I couldn’t help looking at that fine figure of yours…” He laughs a
little nervously, his cheeks flushing.

“And you were wondering what I would look
like naked?” I ask, feeling brave.

He smiles wryly at me, then shrugs. “Well I
am a man!” He chuckles.

“Well you weren’t the only one thinking
that,” I say.

His mouth pops open. “Really?” I smile and
nod shyly at him. “Well, well, Miss Stevens, surprising me again!” I giggle
then rest my head against Tristan’s chest, and we continue to dance around the
bedroom. “Feeling better?” Tristan asks as he carefully twirls me around once
more.

“Yes,” I say smiling up at him, because
it’s true.

“Good.” He smiles, then leans down and
kisses me. “Arms up,” he softly says. I know it’s making him feel like he has a
purpose, that he’s looking after me. So I place my hands around his neck, he
lifts me into his arms and we head out the bedroom…

DETECTIVE MARSH IS A WOMAN
.
She’s tall, maybe five feet seven, slim, well looks very fit actually; has
strawberry blonde hair that’s tied back into a neat bun, and has very little
make-up on, but is strikingly pretty. She’s got to be in her late thirties, or
early forties, I’m not sure. She’s dressed in black fitted trousers, black
boots, and a short sleeved cream shirt, she looks smart, intelligent and has an
air about her that says
‘don’t fuck with me’
– I like her.

“I thought you said the Detective was a
man?” I whisper to Tristan as we walk over to her.

“It was?” He says, gripping my hand.

“Good morning Miss Stevens. Mr Freeman.” She
nods to us both, then smiles at me.

“Hi.” I nod to her.

“I’m Detective Annie Marsh.” I feel all the
blood drain out of my face.
Annie – That was my mother’s name.

“Are you alright?” She asks me. I nod and
frown back at her. She reaches out and shakes Tristan’s hand. “Mr Freeman.
Detective Ward has unfortunately been put on sick leave, I’ll be heading the
investigation from now on. ” She says very formally.

“Please, take a seat.” Tristan says.

We all sit round the kitchen table. Edith
comes over and asks if we would like drinks. Tristan and Detective Marsh ask
for coffee, I don’t have anything, I don’t think I can stomach it. Tristan
takes hold of my hand and gives it a gentle, supportive squeeze.

“Coral, I can tell you’re nervous. So we’re
going to get through this as quickly as possible so you can get back to
recovering, peacefully.” She smiles.

Good, feeling better!

“Ok.” I breathe.

“Detective I have the recordings.” Tristan
says handing over a small USB drive.

“Thank you Mr Freeman.” She takes the drive
and places it in her black briefcase. “I have something for you Coral,” she
says and produces a brown A4 Envelope. She slides it across the table to me. I
open it up and hesitantly look inside. I can see my family photo, the A4 photo
of Tristan and I, plus the key to my studio that Susannah copied.

“Thank you,” I whisper, sealing the
envelope. If I really look at the photo of my old family, I know it will make
me cry.

“Mr Freeman, you should know our
investigation has thrown some interesting light on the events leading up to
Miss Johnsons attack.”

“Oh?” Tristan’s head cocks to the side.
“How so?” Detective Marsh’s eyes flit from Tristan’s to mine, then back to his
again. She looks a little uncomfortable. “Detective, whatever you have to say
to me, you can say in front of Coral. She’s my fiancé, we’ll be getting married
shortly, we have no secrets between us.” He clarifies.

She nods once, takes out a pen and pad,
then some paperwork and flicks through it until she finds what she’s looking
for. “Because of the nature of the attack, and the fact that it all stems
from…” She flicks more notes. “Ah yes, from the fact that Ms Johnson has being
diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, we had to find out if this was,
well a one off.” She clears her throat and takes a sip of coffee.

“With your approval of course, we
interviewed several members of your staff. It seems they all had taken a disliking
to her, that she has upset them in one way or another, but…well, unfortunately
they knew you well….liked her,” she says, looking uncomfortable again.

Tristan shifts in his chair.

“And from the P.I report you handed to us,
we also took the liberty of interviewing your ex partner; Mrs Olivia Logan.”

“Oh?” Tristan’s face falls, the colour
draining from his cheeks.

“Yes, it seems…well I should ask really. Is
it true that you were given information regarding Mrs Logan fidelity that led
to the demise of your relationship?”

“Yes.” His tone is flat, uninterested, but
above all polite.

“This information was given to you by Ms
Johnson?” she clarifies.

“Yes.” Tristan states.

“And I take it you were not aware,
suspicious even of any wrong doing on Ms Johnson’s part?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “She wouldn’t
have still being working for me had I thought that,” he answers dryly.

Detective Marsh’s eyebrows shoot up. “Mrs
Logan also gave us some of your other ex-partners names, so we could interview
them too.”

“Who?” Tristan questions, his brow
furrowing, his hand tightening around mine.

“Cathy Holmes. Rebecca Braithwaite, and
Sarah Clarence.” Detective Marsh takes another sip of coffee. “Mr Freeman, I’m
sorry to have to tell you this, and I have to say, I made it very clear to each
of these ladies that you and Miss Stevens could actually sue them all, and that
each of them could be held for criminal neglect’ – “I’m sorry Detective, but
why would we want to sue them?” He interrupts.

“Each of them admitted to being harassed by
Ms Johnson, in-fact Rebecca was attacked by Ms Johnson only days before she
stopped dating you.”

“What?” Tristan bellows launching to his
feet. He’s radiating anger and tension.

“Tristan.” I look up at him with my empty
hand. He takes a deep breath, places his hand back in mine and slowly sinks
back into the chair.

“I don’t believe this,” he hisses staring
down at the table. Then he looks up at the Detective. “I apologise,” he says.
“Please…continue.” His jaw clenches several times as he stares back at her.

She shifts in her chair, and I notice for
one tiny tenth of a second, her eyes linger on his chest. She shifts again,
clears her throat and continues. “I take it you weren’t aware?” She asks.

“No.” Tristan glares at her, his eyes going
dark. I squeeze his hand trying to calm him.

“Am I correct that you dated each of these
women?” She questions.

“Yes.” Another one worded answer. She
frowns back at him, trying to work something out.