Survival (Twisted Book 1) (13 page)

It wasn’t long ago that I was the lonely poor girl, searching for something that didn’t want to be found…

Everyone moves on. Sooner or later, everyone forgets. I just wasn’t expecting them to disappear altogether.

August, 2003.

Summer was coming to an end. The days were getting shorter and the already torturous nights would just get longer.

I’d done a little travelling like Curtis said. I had been to the Spanish coast and sipped Rioja while watching families enjoying their summer holidays in the sun. I went to the South of France and picked at croissants while I watched couples relaxing on the beach, just enjoying their time together. And I had been to Rome and watched friends enjoying the beautiful surroundings as I savoured gelato. Every place I went to reminded me that I was alone. All of those experiences should have been shared with another; a friend, a family member, a partner. I had none of those things.

I flew back from Italy when I’d had enough and managed to hide in the tower block for a couple of weeks. That was coming to an end, too.

“What are you going to do?” Beth asked when she called.

“I have no idea,” I sighed. “The eviction notice was dated while I was away. I have to move out in September.”

“Do you want to come and stay with me? Just until you find your feet.”

There was a pause. She was offering because she felt like she had to. I didn’t like pity; despised it, in fact.

“It’s okay. I’ve got time to sort something out.”

“Are you sure? I can send you some money for a train ticket.”

“I’m sure. I’ll call you when I’ve found somewhere and we’ll arrange a visit.”

“Sounds good,” I heard a door open and close and the sound of giggling girls wafted through the phone. “I’ve got to go. Keep me posted. Love you.”

She hung up the phone before I could tell her I loved her too.

I couldn’t sit in an empty flat twiddling my thumbs, knowing Curtis was just down the road. I tried, I really tried, but I missed him.
His presence. I just missed him. I could pretend I wasn’t trembling with overwhelming desire when he was near, but I needed him. He needed me too. I convinced myself, while I was away and staring at the four walls of my hotel room, that he did what he did to protect me, because eventually he would break my heart. He couldn’t. I had nothing left to break.

The taxi pulled up outside Geoff’s Gym and I climbed out. I knew straight away that something was wrong. The energy, the pull that drew me in to the building in a car park, was gone.

“Excuse me?” I called to the man with his back to me, locking the door.

“Can I ‘elp you, love?”

He turned to face me. It was Geoff. I had seen his pictures on the walls in the office with some of the great names in mixed martial arts. Curtis was right; he did have a weird cockney accent.

“You’re closed?”

“We are,” he dropped his gaze to his worn Timberland boots and I watched him force a recovery.

“When are you back open?”

“We won't be
op’nin’ again,” I saw the sadness in his eyes and the defeat in his sallow skin. “What d’ya need?”

“Uh-” I searched for something, anything. “A friend of mine wants to start training…Why are you closing?”

I pulled my denim jacket tight around me as I watched his eyes glass over.

“We were a team,” he stared off into the distance and started walking. I walked next to him and kept my eyes on his ashen face. “It’s like the foundation of me gym. When one falls, everything falls. We lost one of our boys in January. We tried to carry on, but the magic was gone. We can't carry on without ‘
im, so we’re shutting down.”

I stopped walking. I froze. They stopped training for Oliver.
All of them. But I’d watched them train; I’d seen the magic, Oliver’s magic. In all of them. I didn’t understand; I thought it fuelled their passion.

“
Y’alright, love?” I nodded as my mind raced with confusion. “What d’ya say ya name was?”

“Pamela,” I lied, forcing myself to function. “I’m sorry about your fighter. Good luck.”

I nodded my goodbye and headed in the opposite direction.

“Pamela?” I turned around, thinking I’d been caught. “Tell
ya mate there’s a couple gyms just outside town.”

“Thanks.”

I walked away, void of emotion, but almost satisfied that I had punished myself a little more by using my mother’s name.

I hated the thought of not being home. I hated the thought of returning back, to find him gone. And I hated the thought that he would get in after work and wonder if I’d be out…again.

December 18
th
, 2009.

“Nina,” I sighed, “I’ve been putting this off for weeks.”

I was in one of my panics after being summoned to Nina’s office. I knew why and I was dreading it. My professional life was planned to the minute; I was the epitome of organisation and control.
My personal life, not so much. It was a disaster and it was my job’s fault. Thomas and I had been trying to go Christmas shopping for weeks, but I cancelled time and time again. I blamed the fact that while he was the boss, I
had
a boss, but it was gradually losing its validity.

“What’s another night, then?” Nina wiggled her eyebrows in a silent challenge and the wicked look in her eyes got me.

“Last time. Seriously, last time.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” she waved her hand, dismissing me.

I sighed. I had to learn to say no; it was both my greatest asset and biggest flaw. I really did just want to go home. I wanted to eat dinner with Thomas, finish the wine in front of the fire listening to Keane and climb into bed.

He wouldn’t be surprised to find me not home.

“Come on, sour puss,” Penelope called between our cubicles. I sat down, furiously rubbing my temples. I had a stress headache.

“You know why she’s doing this, don’t you?”

“Of course…Am I complaining? No.”

I shook my head and logged out of my computer.

Nina’s husband had just left her. I had no idea she was married, until she sent me to collect the divorce papers. She had just become a divorcee, at fifty-two. Days before Christmas.

She was married to her job, not to the man who waited up for her most nights to find she’d fallen asleep at the office.

As we left the offices of Poise, I thought about the man waiting for me. I checked my watch. He would be just getting home. He would call my name from the bottom of the stairs, thinking I’d be in the bedroom getting changed. But he wouldn’t get an answer. I was on my way out, again, so Nina didn’t feel alone. I felt sorry for her, but I couldn’t help wondering why she could go for dinner with us, but couldn’t go with her husband when she had one.

Thomas and I both had hectic jobs, but we worked because we both fough
t for it. I was working seventy-hour weeks over the Christmas period as Poise funnelled winter fashion advice, gift ideas and celebrity gossip into the greedy hands of the female population, and Thomas was busier than ever as titles in every sport were being played for. Our quality time together had gone from dinners at our favourite restaurant and nights in front of the fire, to reaching for the same slice of toast as it popped up and feeling lucky if we brushed our teeth at the same time in the morning.

I hadn’t made it to bed before he fell asleep once in the last seven days and I missed him.

Nina’s driver, Darren, hopped out of the car and gave us a cheeky smirk as he opened the door and we filed into the back.

“Ssh!” I tumbled in the front door and fell to my hands and knees.

It was easier to stay like that, so I crawled along the hallway and flopped onto the bottom step.

“Thomas!” I called, then covered my mouth. “Ssh.”

I giggled as an upside down Thomas appeared at the top of the stairs and made his way down. He’d been awake waiting for me, probably reading in bed, judging by the boxers hanging low on his hips and the glasses that framed his hazel brown eyes.

“Long day at the office?” I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm.

“You know I don’t want to go.”

He snorted, “You could stick to lemonade.”

He picked me up and carried me upstairs to our bathroom.

“You’ve met Nina,” I shoved my toothbrush in my mouth.

“I have,” he pulled my hair from the tie and I shivered as his fingers combed through my dark locks. “I think she’s tameable.”

“You can tell her that on New Year’s Eve.”

Our eyes connected in the mirror. I wanted him; in a split second my blood turned to molten lava. He winked - a sign that he knew exactly what I wanted… I knew he wouldn’t give it to me when he turned and left the room.

I pulled everything but my silver thong off and left my clothes on the floor as I stepped into the bedroom. Thomas cleared his throat when he looked up and his eyes followed me around to my side of the bed. I climbed in without looking at him and faced the other direction. Two could play the teasing game.

Thomas pulled me into him and I felt the hard bulge in his boxers against me. I hummed and wiggled into him, but neither of us
were going to give in.

“I get you back after Christmas, right?”

I clenched my jaw, wondering how he kept his cool when I was ready to jump him. A moan escaped without permission when he rolled his hips and squeezed my leg.

“Right.”

He kissed my shoulder, sinking his teeth in for just long enough to drive me crazy. We closed our eyes and fell asleep with a gentle, smouldering desire swimming through our veins.

We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and hope it’s not as gut-wrenching as the last.

Christmas Day, 2009.

I opened my eyes as the winter sun streamed through the windows. My heart grew heavy as soon as I remembered what day it was.
Christmas Day. I groaned and turned to find Thomas; he was on his side, awake and watching me.

“Merry Christmas,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could and kissed him. “How long have you been awake?”

He shrugged, “I like to watch you sleep. You were dreaming.”

“I was?”

“You said you missed him.”

It hurt as much as the first day. I hadn’t moved on from Oliver’s death; I had just learned to live without him. The pain never went away. I still struggled to talk about it.

“Do you want your gifts?” I sat up and reached into the bedside cabinet for Thomas’ stocking.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled weakly as we swapped gifts. “I just want you to have a good day. I know it’s going to be hard.”

“It will. But I’m spending the day with you. It can't be anything but perfect.”

We piled the gift bags into the back of Thomas’ car and climbed in. It was tradition in the Radley household to spend Christmas together, and I was a part of that.

We pulled up outside his parents’ house and struggled with the bags up the long path to the front door. Thomas’ mother, Francesca, opened the door and I felt underdressed in my jeans and knitted jumper when I saw she was dressed for dinner. Thomas shook his head in exasperation, but kissed her warmly on the cheek. He had dressed casually, too, in jeans and the cream jumper I bought him for Christmas. The cream made his eyes the colour of strong coffee and I had spent most of the morning lost in them as he talked animatedly.

“Merry Christmas,” she sang. She was a Christmas person. “Everyone is here already. You missed the Buck’s Fizz.” She paused and looked back at us, “Wow, you two look good together.”

Before we could respond, Thomas’ legs were trapped by limbs of children.
His two nephews, Tommy and Jake. They were his sister, Ava, and her husband’s children and they soon followed to greet us with Martin, Thomas’ father.

“Uncle Tom!”
The boys cried, tugging on his jeans and covering the denim in snot and melted chocolate.

“If you don’t get off, you won't get your gifts,” he laughed as they dropped to the floor and looked up at him, grinning.

“They’re great boys,” I said to Ava as we helped Fran clean up after dinner.

“Thank you, we got lucky,” she laughed. “You better hope the well behaved gene is in the Radley DNA.”

I chuckled uncomfortably and agreed, and scrubbed harder with the drying cloth. Kids weren’t going to happen. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about it, I had. I got broody like every other woman and I had maternal instincts, I knew I did. Those instincts were just overshadowed by my past and replaced with the fear of failing like my mother did. I was
scarred. I wouldn’t have children because, like my mother, I didn’t deserve them. I pushed the thoughts aside and watched Thomas, marvelling at his excitement as he helped the boys open their gifts. Tommy and Jake were the reason he was so excited about Christmas.