Shiver Sweet (16 page)

He swallowed and his gaze bounced around.  “I’m sorry, Claire.  I just don’t know what you want me to say.”

She traced her fingertips down the doorframe, eyes fastened on his roaming ones.  “I want you to say that you love me, drag me into the house and tear these clothes off my body.”

Brian sighed and rubbed his temple with a buttery finger.  “That’s not going to happen.  I thought I made myself clear earlier and...”  A phone beeped.  “Hold on.”  Brian reached into his coat hanging near the door, then pulled his mobile out of its pocket.  He looked at the screen then stared at Claire.  “You texted Christa and had a go at her?”

“Snitch,” she muttered, snorting out a breath.  Christa’s sickly pretty face flashed into her mind, heightening her jealousy.  “Look, I know you only dumped me because of her.  But she won’t satisfy you the way I can.  Why can’t you see that?  Quite frankly, I’ve seen more sex appeal in a wet dishcloth.”

He pointed a warning finger.  “Enough!”

“The closest she gets to bedroom athletics lately is dancing in the buff.”  Claire’s jealous ranting gushed out of her mouth like water from a tap.  She couldn’t stop the flow.  “The woman’s a joke on stick legs!  Hell, she can barely boil an egg.”

Brian tried to turn her away from the door.  “How dare you!”

Claire stood fast, feet pressing hard into the ground.  No matter how much she tried, the fury she so wanted to suppress kept bubbling to the surface.  “She’ll never cook a decent meal for you like I can.  She can’t...”

“Stop it!” Brian yelled, throwing a palm up.  “Christa isn’t to blame here.  I’ve already explained this to you.  We’ve had fun, Claire, but there’s no future for us.  We’re simply not compatible.”

“We are!”

“Don’t contact Christa again.”  He glanced at his phone once more, shifted on his feet then thumped the wall by the door.  “Jesus, woman!  What the hell’s wrong with you?”

A paralysing sadness gushed through her.  Claire grabbed the wall to steady herself.  Her eyes moistened with regret.  She’d pushed the wrong buttons.  Blown it.  Time to change tact, don’t mention Christa.  “I’m sorry.  I just...  Please.  You can’t end things like this.”  She reached a hand out to caress his face. 

I love you.  I’m yours.  Kiss me. 

“What we have is special, Brian.”  Desperate to coax a glimmer of love into his eyes, she curled her hand around his neck and thrust up on tiptoes, trying to force his lips to meet hers.

His hand circled her wrist, and then he eased her away.  “No, Claire.  What we have... is over.”  He stood rigid in the doorway, a pissed-off expression cemented on his face. 

Claire had gone too far.

“I don’t enjoy hurting you,” Brian said.  “But you have to accept the way I feel.  Please leave.”

Tears tumbled freely.  Claire jammed her foot in the door to prevent him closing it.  “I love you,” she said, her voice breaking around a sob.  “You can’t leave me.”  She wiped her face and deepened her voice, her dark side winning yet again.  “I won’t let you.”

Brian’s lips pressed into a firm line.  “It’s not your choice.  Now please, move your foot, go home and calm down.”

“No.” 
How can I walk away?   I love you.

Brian tussled her foot with his, then tried to shut the door.  “This is insane.  Why would you want to be with someone who doesn’t love you back, huh?

Claire, hurt and stunned into silence, couldn’t answer that.

“I have to get ready for my meeting.”

Claire placed a palm flat on the door and pushed inwards. 

The edge of the door clipped Brian above his left eye.  “Ouch.”  He cupped his forehead.  “What did you do that for?”

“Christa doesn’t love you like I do.”  Tears trickled into her mouth, her nose streamed.  Her soft and flirty plan to win him back...
Oh, going terribly wrong.
  For fuck’s sake!  Why wouldn’t her bloody mouth or body listen to her brain?  Softly, softly.  Claire took a breath of composure.  When she raised her eyes to Brian’s, once again, anger plunged into her.  “She only pretends to care so that you’ll babysit that... that little brat of hers.” 
Oh, shit.  I’ve done it again.

Brian jerked.  His face erupted molten red.  “Brat?  How dare you call Sarah such names!  She’s like a daughter to me.” 

His words spread through her veins like poison.  He could never know the truth.  Ever.

He snatched his keys off the wall hook near the door and grabbed his briefcase.  “I’m not going to listen to anymore of this.  I need a straight head for my meeting.  If you won’t leave, I will, before we both say or do something we can’t take back.”  Pulling his coat on over his suit one-handed, he shot out of the house and slammed the door, his back to her.

Claire spun and grabbed him, pulling his sleeve down to his elbow. 

Brian’s keys and phone clattered to the ground.  After jostling free of Claire’s grasp, he snatched up the keys.  Muttering profanities, he dashed to his car, coat tail flapping.

Quickly, Claire bent to retrieve his mobile, shocked but delighted he hadn’t seen he’d dropped it.  After pocketing it, she tottered unsteadily on her high heels after him.  “Where are you going?  Come back.  I’m not finished.”

“This.”  Brian indicated to himself and Claire before getting into his car and sitting.  He finished in a controlled, even tone.  “It isn’t healthy.”

Claire stopped moving.  Silence.  A tangible chill hung in the air between them, until Claire lurched forward and raced to the side of his car.  After grabbing his open door, she slapped her other hand down on the frosted bonnet and glowered through the driver’s edge of the windshield.  “You’re gonna drive to
her
house, aren’t you?”

“No.  I’ve got an appointment to keep.”  He uncurled her fingers and shut the door.  ‘Fuck,’ he mouthed through the window, agitation etched across his face.  The engine roared to life. 

A suffocating darkness pressed in around her.  “Am I supposed to just vanish from your life?  Not even try to win you back from her?”

“Yes.  And Christa has nothing to do with this.  It was over between us before I even laid one finger–”  He stopped, flattening his lips into a line.

“I knew it!”  Jealousy and rage clashed within forming a potent cocktail.  “Something
did
happen between you and that bitch.  I should have realised Steph was hiding something else!” 

“Something else?  What’s she’s been saying?”

Claire bent her knee and kicked his door, scratching it.  Then pound after pound, she pummelled the bonnet of his car until pain shot up her forearm and the metal dented.  She broke into a sob.

“Oi!” Brian yelled, then honked his horn.  “Do that again and I’ll have you arrested!” 

She booted the wheel arch.  Her stiletto heel snapped inward.

Brian brought his handsome face closer, the window squashing his nose.  “Read my lips... it’s over.  Now go home and cool off.”

Claire’s leaden heart twisted.  She wanted to ram those torturous words down his throat, and then down Christa’s. 

His jaw clenched repeatedly.  “I’ve tried to be nice, but nice isn’t working.  I’ve had it with you.  You’re out of your mind.” 

“Go on then.”  She stumbled on her broken stiletto heel.  “Go fuck the bitch and find out what she’s really like!”

He flipped his middle finger.  “Go swivel on this.” 

Claire punched the driver’s side window and hurled such an arsonry of profanities at him that it dried her words to a crisp. 

The pissed-off look came back on Brian’s face full force.  He put the car into gear and nosed forward, waiting for a stream of traffic to clear his way.

She ran to her car parked tight behind his and climbed in.  Breathing through flared nostrils, she slumped over the steering wheel.  Whatever connection was left between them... well, she’d severed it now.

Brian would have to pay for breaking her heart.  Yes.  Phone her brother, then sit back and watch Brian’s life crumble into hell. 

No. 

Oh, crap.  Her fingers squeezed the wheel, unsure she could give the command. 
What the fuck is wrong with me?
  Why did Brian affect her so badly?  Maybe she should just ram his car and then he wouldn’t be able to drive anywhere.

Claire took a deep breath to focus, then raised her head.

Brian inched his car forward ready to pull out, and something beyond the exhaust fumes caught Claire’s eye. 

Just then, he pulled away from the kerb revealing a large object positioned beneath his car.  Claire blinked hard, did a double take.  As he crossed the central line to the left lane, the object jerked into motion on the ice.

“What the fuck?”  Claire leaned forward, stared harder. 

A person strapped on their back to a plastic sledge shot along the frozen road behind Brian’s car, pulled along by rope.  She glimpsed short dark hair and red trainers before it picked up speed.  Definitely an adult.  A man?

“Jesus!”  In a wave of panic, Claire beeped the horn numerous times. 

Brian neither slowed nor stopped. 

With wildly shaking hands, she turned the key in the ignition and screeched up the road in his tracks.  Oh, hell. 

The sledge, on about three metres of rope, slid fluidly from side to side over the frozen tarmac.   Claire put her foot down and caught up, leaving a gap between them for the slipping and sliding sledge.

A car travelled down the opposite lane, beeping frantically as it passed. 

As Brian rounded a curve in the road, the sledge flew out to the right and flipped over.

Claire winced seeing the body get torn up by the road, painting a waving trail of blood and matter in the snow. 

It flipped upright again. 

An arm flopped out to the side, banging and bouncing along the ice.  Claire gagged as rising bile burned her throat, but she managed to keep control of her steering in a white-knuckle grip.  “Who the hell is that?” 

Swerving left and right, honking on the horn like a madwoman, Claire decided to overtake Brian and force him to stop.  She pushed down harder on the accelerator and steered right to cross the central line.  On another bend, Brian slowed down.  The sledge swung out and crossed her path.  Claire’s car bumped over something.  Oh, crap!  Had her front wheel caught the edge of the sledge, or a foot?  She eased off the gas until the sledge came into view.  It slid back in position behind Brian’s car on the straight.

Claire honked again.  “Idiot!  Why won’t he stop?”  Deciding to go for it again, she sped up and crossed the central road markers again.  Coming up alongside his car, she waved frantically through the passenger window to indicate ‘slow down’.  Then a car came travelling toward her.  “Oh, hell.”  She stomped on the brake.  Her back end slid out.  Every muscle tightened as she snaked into the left lane behind the sledge, squeezing the wheel in a jolt of fright.  She slid to a stop sideways, striking the kerb.

Brian sped ahead.  The distance between their cars widened.

Breathing heavy, Claire shoved the gear stick into first and accelerated to catch up. 

But then, abruptly, Brian’s brake lights spread their red glow along the ice. 

Thank goodness.  He’s seen it. 

His car started sliding to a stop, but the bloodied, torn-up body zoomed ahead full speed.  It sailed under Brian’s car and the back tyre juddered over it.

CHAPTER 20

NICOLA

Nicola paced circles in Christa’s kitchen, crushing a piece of paper in her hand; a paper she had unsuccessfully tried to slip to Christa off camera, and away from Sarah, all afternoon, telling her what they were up against. 

Sarah breathed out and rubbed her belly.  “I’m stuffed!” 

“The film was great,” Christa said, washing up the popcorn bowl and glasses in the sink.  She faced Nicola.  “Did you manage to get all your bills paid?”

“Not quite,” Nicola said, biting her bottom lip.  “I kinda got distracted.”

“Easily done.”

“I’m gonna listen to some music in my room, mum,” Sarah said, racing out of the kitchen with a drink of juice.

“Not too loud, sweetheart,” Christa shouted back.

Now that Sarah had shot up to her room, and music was blasting through the door, it seemed the perfect time to make another attempt at slipping Christa the note.  Nicola swallowed, took a stride forward.  “Christa, I need to show you something.  Let’s go outside a minute and... um... it’s the roof tiles you see...” 

“Not another one?”  Christa sighed.  “Look, I didn’t want to say anything in front of Sarah, but can you believe that text Claire sent me?”

“She’s playing dirty.  Ignore it.”

“I sent Brian a text to let him know what she wrote.  Still waiting for a reply.  I think he’s in a meeting this afternoon.”  She dried her hands on a towel and squinted up at the ceiling.  “What right-minded person would send a message like that?  She doesn’t love him.  She’s obsessed by him.”

“So, Christa... outside?”

The doorbell rang.

“I wonder who that is.  Sorry, Nicola.  Tell me in a minute.”  Christa dumped the towel and dashed into the hall while Nicola sighed in annoyance.  A moment later, Christa called for Nicola to join her in the living room, in a stiff, urgent voice.

Nicola had barely swallowed the shock of seeing Christa sitting on the sofa in front of two police officers - one well-built with smooth black skin, the other a little shorter, pale and chubby in the face - when they broke shocking news. 
Is this for real?

“Dead?” Christa repeated, cupping her floored jaw.  “So you’re not here about...”

Tension ripened in Nicola and she wished she’d never entered the room.

The officers handed Christa a photograph.

Nicola stiffened in front of the TV, chewing her fingernails.  Afraid to speak, afraid to even move.  Heavy thoughts darkened her already frayed mind as the officer’s words sent a thick fog sweeping through it.  It was like the hangover from hell.  She craved a deep swirl of nicotine in her lungs, and a stiff, throat-burning drink with a shut-eye chaser.