Freeing Alex (6 page)

He just looks at me. He’s seeing the strong side of Alex
Drake that he hasn’t seen before. Hell, Alex Drake hasn’t seen this side of
herself for years either!

“I’ll call the accountant now. This needs sorting – this
afternoon!” I’m adamant.

I reach into my handbag and dig around for my mobile.
Scrolling down the menu I find the number of the accountants. I tap the screen
and the call connects, it’s swiftly answered by a young woman.

“Can I speak to Gerald – it’s Alex Drake.” I feel as though
I’m cooking on gas, being very positive and assertive, a feeling that I like.
Yes, slowly, bit by bit, I
am
changing.

I’ve only met Gerald a few times. He’s a pleasant older
gentleman, I would imagine only a few years from retirement, and so far his
advice and guidance have been excellent – I think, but then I’m paying a
substantial fee for him to look after my finances so I wouldn’t expect anything
other than excellent.

“Alex – good to hear from you,” he booms. I pull the phone
away from my ear, the only problem with Gerald is that he can’t do quiet!

“I’ve been looking at the payroll for the hotel, Gerald.
James Aconi sends you, or one of your people, the figures every month and he
reviews all of the staff salaries here on an annual basis, but poor bloke,
Maggie never reviewed his. I’ve only just found out, and still wouldn’t have
known if, well, let’s just say something was mentioned.” I explain my reason
for calling him today, moving the telephone to and from my ear as he booms back
at me.

“Oh, we had no idea. We only act on the information that Mr
Aconi or Maggie sent over,” he says defensively.

“No, I’m not blaming you, Gerald, but I need to put this
right, as quickly as possible. If I give you some figures can you implement
them today, by BACS, to James’s account now?” I’m feeling assertive, a feeling
I really quite like. The blip I had less than an hour ago seemingly past, maybe
I really am getting stronger, emotionally.

“Yes, of course we can. What did you want to do?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t find an exact average salary on the web, not
for the job that James does, but looking at what
is
on there and knowing
that he practically runs this place I think we’ve got to increase his annual to
at least a hundred thousand. I also want to include an annual bonus, and the
bonus needs to be backdated. It will be signed off by me every year, but for
now I want you to back pay the bonus for the last five years,” I explain.

“Hold on, Alex, just let me make sure I’ve got this written
down correctly.” I hear him shuffle paper and mutter as he writes. “Increase
salary to a hundred thousand and a bonus paid every year, at your discretion.
But you want me to transfer the bonus, back paid for the last five years,
today?” he asks, confirming what I’ve just said.

I look at James who is standing by his unit, making tea.
He’s frowning, looking at me. His mouth turning up into a broad smile, oh my
God, that smile! My nether regions come to life, I have to turn away my focus
moving towards the papers on James’ desk I compose myself, deep breathing
focussing on my conversation with Gerald on not on James’ smile.

 “Yes please. I want to pay him a bonus of fifty grand a
year. So if you can transfer two hundred and fifty thousand into his account
today, that would be great. Then from next month we just press ahead with the
new salary. Have you got all of that?”

“I have, and I’ll get that arranged for you – is that all,
Alex?” Gerald asks.

“There’s nothing else. I’ll send you an email now to
confirm, I know you like these things in writing, and then I’ll see you next
month as planned, okay? Bye.” I end the call.

I stand and walk around to James as he stands, mug in hand
by the little unit. “Come on, let’s get this message done.” I wave my hand
towards the computer. He moves the laptop to his side of the desk and sits down
in his big chair as I walk behind him, looking at the screen, holding onto the
back of his chair. I look down on top of those curls, oh I would just love to
run my fingers through those curls.

His hands are shaking as he flicks his mouse around and taps
in his password to open the spreadsheet that shows all of the staff and their
current salaries.

“Are you sure?” He turns, looking towards me, his deep voice
rumbling. “That’s such a lot of money. Too much Alex, I don’t know if I can
accept it?”

I smile. “Are you telling me that you’re not worth it?” 

He huffs,“No, I’m not saying that, but it’s just such a lot.
Thank you.” He turns his head towards me, smiling.

“You’re welcome.” I place my hand on his shoulder and feel
the firm muscles through his suit. I squeeze his shoulder very gently,
reassuringly.

“Fuck! I can’t believe it!” he blurts out. “Two. Hundred.
And. Fifty. Grand.” He punctuates his words. “You are sure?” he asks again.

I sigh deeply. “James, if there’s one thing you’ll soon
learn about me, it’s that behind this simple exterior is a very determined
woman. I’m not indecisive – well, not now anyway – in fact, the complete
opposite. I may not have worked for years and I may have spent the last
twenty-odd as a housewife, but I know my own mind and I haven’t lost my knack
for spotting talent when I see it. I will not stand for a loyal team member not
being rewarded. Are we clear?”

“Yes… Thank you.” He spins around, stands and places a
gentle kiss on my cheek. His lips are so soft but firm, and that masculine
smell… The heat from him warms me inside and out, the brush of those lips sends
shivers through my very core. He pulls away. “It will make such a difference,”
he whispers.

“You’re welcome. It’s nothing more than you deserve,” I say
quietly, and boy, that little kiss made all the difference!

We spend the afternoon discussing the staff and forthcoming
events. There are a couple of prestigious weddings and parties booked in,
things that will make the glossy magazines, but nothing that the Bossman
doesn’t take in his stride and deal with in his own, unique and calm manner; he
is very professional.

As I leave, James is pawing over more paperwork on his desk.
I cross the office to collect my bag, and as I pass him I place my hand on his
shoulder. “Where are you staying tonight?” I ask.

He looks up. “A friends’.”

“You know, I’ve plenty of spare rooms, all made up. The
offer’s there if you get stuck and don’t want to stay at the hotel. Here…” I
have absolutely no idea what makes me offer him a room at my home, but I hand
him a piece of note paper with my address on.

 “Honestly, if you get stuck you’re more than welcome,
there’s only me and Anna rattling around in that place and come October,
there’ll only be me!” Why have I offered him a bed at my home? I don’t know if
perhaps I regret it once I have done. As if this super sexy young man would
want to stay at his boss’s home anyway?

“Thank you, Alex, I think I’ll be okay, but thanks anyway.
And, thank you, you know, for what you did today, it really is much
appreciated.” He shoves the note in his pocket and returns to his papers.

“You’re welcome. It really is no more than you deserve, this
place wouldn’t be what it is without you.  And besides…” I stop mid-sentence,
not really sure if I should continue with what my mouth wants to blurt out but
my brain is telling it not to.

“Besides what?” he asks.

I think, quickly: will it hurt? Will it really be so bad if
I say what I want to? What’s the worst that can happen? I’d look foolish and
would probably stay away for a while.

“I like you, James, that’s what. I think you’re great and
you’re doing an amazing job.” There, said it and it wasn’t so bad. I turn
towards the door, I intend to make a quick exit. “See you tomorrow.” I walk
briskly from his office.

“Okay,” he replies, a little taken aback, I think, but
allowing me to escape quickly, thank God. Although I regret what I said almost
instantly, I mean, come on! What’s he going to see in me?

I arrive home relatively quickly,
must have found a window in the traffic, which is excellent for London on a
Friday, and eventually stumble into my home. The house is so quiet, no music
belting out of Anna’s room.

Taking off my shoes, my feet breathe a sigh of relief at the
comforting, icy cold feel of the tiled hall floor. I ditch my bag and walk
through to the back of the house to my newly refurbished kitchen. The white
gloss cupboards are bright and the clean lines of the granite work surface
together with stainless steel appliances make the room look like it’s been
lifted straight from the
Ideal Home
magazine. I love my kitchen and now
the decorators have finished, the house is truly luxurious. One of the habits
from my “old life” that I don’t think I’ll ever relinquish is cooking; I love
nothing more than to cook, and love experimenting with new recipes, even if
it’s just for Anna and me, as it’s been in the past..

I flick the kettle on and go upstairs to my room with the
intention of changing into my comfy clothes. On the way I pass Anna’s door,
it’s quiet. I knock. “Anna?” I say to the door and knock again. There’s no
answer. It really is very quiet, whenever Anna is home my ears are being
assaulted by her music. I open the door and my beautiful daughter is fast
asleep on the top of her bed, snuggled up to Mr Bear, the teddy she’s slept
with since she was, oh, must be five years old. As I look at her I can’t
believe she’s eighteen and will soon be leaving home. I’ve no doubt she’ll get
the grades she needs to be able to accept any one of the university places
she’s been offered, although she’s always favoured Birmingham, only because
that would keep her close to home, but home’s not that way any more.

“Anna,” I say quietly as I sit down on her bed. I place my
palm on the back of her head. Her dark wavy hair is so beautifully soft,
nothing like mine which is deadly straight, and her olive skin so smooth and
clear. She’s the same sort of build as me but much slimmer, of course, and I
have no idea where the dark eyes come from – maybe my birth father, whoever he
may be. Tom Chandler did say that Maggie had indicated that I was conceived in
Italy. I wonder if my real father is Italian? Will I ever know?

“Anna, sweetheart, do you want some supper?” I speak
quietly.

She stirs. “Oh… hi Mum,” she says sleepily with a yawn. “Did
you have a good day?”

I grin as I recall my day with the Bossman. “Umm, I think
so. I got to spend some more time with James, find out at bit more about him
and what’s he’s like. I can see why Maggie took him on.”

I’m enthusiastic about James, not least because he is
incredibly sexy. I never thought I’d think about a man like that ever again, I
honestly believed that Lewis had ruined me for life! I never in a million years
thought that I’d tell another man that I liked him!

Anna gets up off her bed. “I need to pee,” she informs me as
she pads into her en-suite and shuts the door. I stand and call to her as I’m
leaving her room, “Do you want a jacket potato? I ate at lunchtime. I’m just
having a sandwich.”

“That’s fine with me,” she calls, her voice muffled through
the bathroom door.

I change and head back to the kitchen, looking around this
vast house and wondering if I really am going to rattle around once Anna has
gone. Another old habit that I can’t seem to break is constantly mithering
about the cleaning. Maybe I should get someone in to do it for me? Will I even
stay here, long term? Do I really like the house?

Anna eventually arrives in the kitchen and takes a seat on
one of the island stools. Her potato is being half nuked in the microwave and
I’ll pop it into the oven for twenty minutes or so to finish off. I’ve opened a
can of tuna and squashed it together with some low-fat mayo, she can have that
with some salad. I’ve made a tuna sandwich for myself.

We sit and eat in silence, just like we used to before,
before this whirlwind hit my life – for the best? Who knows? But it certainly
gave me the wherewithal to leave
the bastard
, which I doubt I would have
done under my own steam. Had I let myself get into a rut, let myself become
taken for granted? Probably, but deep down I knew it was wrong, my parents and
Maggie would be turning in their graves if they knew how Lewis had treated me,
if they
really
knew.

 “I spoke to Katie today,” Anna announces, waking me from my
thoughts.

“Oh yes, how is she?” I like Katie, one of Anna’s best
friends, she always seems level headed. Not that Anna needs any levelling,
she’s very sensible.

“She’s okay, nervous about getting our results!” Anna
cringes outwardly, but she’s no need to worry, I know she’ll do well. “Can she
come and stay for a few days? We can go shopping, maybe see a show, go to a
club and then I can go back with her to collect our results.”

I finish my sandwich, swallowing the last mouthful. “Sure,
Katie’s always welcome. She’s a choice of rooms, you could even both stay at
the hotel, I’m sure we could fit you in and if you’re going into town the hotel
is more central than here.”

As I look at her I think it would be best if she stayed at
the hotel. I wouldn’t have to drive or worry about them so much.

“I was planning on running you back up north for your
results but I can’t get the two of you in the car. You can take the train with
Katie if you want and I’ll drive up then bring you back, unless you want to
spend a few days with her, or at your dad’s? It’s up to you.” I collect the
dishes from supper and rinse them before loading them into the dishwasher.
“Give her another call, see what she fancies,” I suggest.

“You hate driving in London, Mum?” She laughs.

I glare at her for reminding me. “I know, but once I get
onto the motorway I’m fine, it’s the complex, narrow streets I hate!”

She laughs at me again. “I’ll call her now, but I won’t be
staying with Dad, he’s not going to be there next week. Well, he never was in
the week, was he? I spoke to him this morning.”

She picks up her phone and wanders into the living room. I
finish tidying the kitchen and flick through the post that’s arrived today,
mainly junk mail.

I’ve just poured myself a glass of wine when Anna comes back
into the kitchen. I’m standing at the sink when the doorbell rings. I look at
Anna. “Expecting anyone?” She shakes her head. “Umm, neither am I.” I hate
people calling without me knowing they’re visiting. Thoughts of Lewis landing
on my doorstep play havoc with my imagination: what if?

“Wait there.” I look at Anna. She follows me to the kitchen
door and waits; the hallway is long and straight, so she’ll be able to see
who’s at the door once I open it. I look through the spy hole. “Delivery, I
think.” I glance behind me at Anna, and she relaxes a little. Opening the door
I find a young woman with a large basket of strawberries and champagne.

“Delivery for Mrs Drake,” she says and hands me the basket.

“Thank you.” I accept the basket and close the door as the
girl heads off. 

Anna’s eyes widen. “Look at those strawberries, they’re
huge!”

I take the basket through to the kitchen and remove the
cellophane. There’s a note on a white card inside.

Thank you so much, it really is appreciated. See you
tomorrow. J.

“Who’s ‘J’?” Anna looks at me with a huge smile. “Is he a
boyfriend, Mum?” she teases.

“No, it’s James, I think. Maggie never increased his salary
since he started at Reid's, and I sorted it out today, that’s all.” I look at
the delicious fruit and expensive-looking bottle.

Anna’s fixated on the strawberries. “Oh. Anyway, Katie’s
coming down next Saturday and we’re going back on Wednesday morning, is that
okay?” 

I acknowledge her with a nod and look at the basket. Nobody
has ever done anything so nice for me before. It’s such a lovely gift, not that
I drink much champagne, and I certainly wouldn’t open a bottle for myself, but
the strawberries are huge. We’ll eat those later, I’m sure of it.

I listen to Anna carry on about Katie and about what she’s
planning.

“Not a problem, sweetheart, you’ll have to let me know which
train Katie is coming on and I’ll…” I pause. “No ,I’ll get someone to pick her
up.”

I’m pleased that Anna’s having her friend to stay. I’ve
uprooted her, I feel, although I think she was glad to get away from the
atmosphere of her dad and I being together.

Anna calls Katie back to confirm the arrangements. I cringe
and mentally slap myself across the face when I hear Anna telling her friend
that her mum is too scared to drive through London and the only route she does
is from home to
work
– I note that she refers to the hotel as
work.
I turn around and scowl at my daughter, who is in hysterics at some comment
that Katie has obviously made about my driving. She ends the call and smiles at
me. “What?” she asks. “It’s the truth, you won’t drive through London ‘cause
you’re a scaredy-cat!”

She’s right, of course. I won’t drive, only the route I
know, and even that causes me to have a minor stress. Maybe I should get a
driver? My new neighbours seem to have a person for every little job: a dog
walker, a driver, a cook, a cleaner, an ironing lady – the list goes on and
on!  

I sigh. “What do you think about us getting a driver?” I ask
she looks at me and grunts, a sort of “urg!”

“What’s ‘urg’ mean, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, I just hadn’t thought of it. Whatever you
want, Mum. Anyway, I’m not going to be here much once I go to uni.” She reminds
me yet again that she’ll be gone before long, it’ll come round really quickly,
too quickly. 

Thinking about what life’s going to be like once Anna has
gone, I pick up my wine and head for the bathroom. “I’m going to have a soak.”
I put my hand on her back as I head off upstairs.

Running a bath, I ponder this driving business. I need to
bite the bullet and get a grip, but the roads are just so busy and I’m not used
to it. I fill the bath and add some coconut-scented bubbles and slip out of my
comfy clothes before looking at myself in the full-length mirror. Not bad for
forty-two. I’ve still got the scar from where Anna was delivered, emergency
section, and in common with other mums it means I’ve got a sort of shelf. No
matter how I exercise or watch my weight I suppose it will always be there to
some degree or other, could be worse, I suppose. My boobs are still quite firm,
as is the rest of my body – the years of watching what I eat and looking after
myself are paying off.

 As I turn in front of the mirror I catch sight of the
monstrous scar across my left shoulder. Even though [add number] years have
passed since he did it I can still make out the shape of the iron that Lewis had
lunged at me with during one of his rages, the red outline. Yes, it’s faded to
what it was, but still the shape’s still very, very clear. I am so embarrassed
and ashamed of it that I no longer show my back in public.

 I can even remember what I’d done, not ironing his shirts
twice. I cringe at the thought, at the memory of the pain he inflicted on me
that day. It was one of the worst episodes and will never, ever be repeated.
Then I look further down and see the other mark, the tiny brand of his initials…

I remember him waking me in the middle of the night. He’d
staggered into our room, pissed as usual. I suppose Anna must have been about
six months old. He’d woken me and forced me onto my stomach, then he’d held me
down with all of his weight whilst he branded me with that hot wire. I remember
screaming into my pillow and him snarling at me to keep quiet. “You’re mine,
you bitch, nobody else will ever come near you, not with my mark.” I had hoped
that I would block it out, learn to forget, but I can’t and as I wait for the
bath to fill it seems all so vivid, fresh. I need to move on, I
have
to.
I’ve been given the opportunity to start again and I need to embrace it.

I have a gloriously long soak and listen to Anna’s music.
It’s turned up so loud that I don’t really have any option but to listen, not
that I mind – it makes the house a home, brings it to life. 
I Love It
pounds
its way into my relaxing soak. I listen to the words and it reminds me of the
day we walked out on Lewis, and makes me feel good,
really
good!

After what must have been an hour-long soak and once I’ve
finished my beauty routine, applying body butter in the same fragrance as my
bath soak, I spend the remainder of the evening watching TV with Anna and a
large glass of white wine and the enormous strawberries, which we both enjoy –
they really are very good. We watch the late evening news together before we
both head off to bed at the same time.

“What have you got planned for tomorrow?” Anna asks me as we
climb the stairs together.

“I’m going back to the hotel. I’ve told James that I don’t
want to be the
faceless
owner. I don’t want to actually work there but I
want the staff to know
who
I am, you know, for them to know that I take
an interest, and anyway, I need something to do, I can’t just sit around all
day!” I explain my rationale for spending time there, I really do want to keep
myself occupied.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, so you are going there
again?”

“Yes, I am. We can meet for lunch if you want?” I say
sleepily. As much as I adore my daughter she’ll be going in a couple of months,
and I would never deny her that, the opportunity, but she has to realise that
this is also my life, my new life. I think she’s a bit miffed that she’s
spending so much time on her own but she’s forgetting the hours and hours I
spent on
my
own waiting for her to come home from school and while her
dad was out doing whatever he was doing.

“Yes, but I thought we could go shopping?” she whines.