The Alphabet Game the Complete Alpha Series a to X, Y, Z (10 page)

‘Who are you here with darling? Would you care to join us?’

My stepfather turns around, ‘What is that damn racket. Can’t they get that drunk ejected. Bloody riffraff trying to get in. This used to be such a fine establishment. Oh Jesus, that says it all.’ He turns back to my mother. ‘He’s involved. Arnie’s son.’ He says this as if he has a bad taste in his mouth, like he’s had to digest a piece of vomit.

My mother looks panicked, ‘Don’t start anything Mitch, Arnie did his best.’

I look between them confused. ‘What are you talking about?’

My mother whispers, ‘Not here Stella.’

‘No I want to know, what’s he talking about?’

‘Well, he was the one who was involved with your stepsister.’

I look at my Stepfather, ‘Isabel?’ I’ve never had anything to do with my elder stepsister as she’d been estranged from Mitch for years.

‘Yes, he’s the one who got her into the drugs.’

I turn shocked towards the entrance, but Gabe’s no longer there.

‘Thank goodness he seems to have been ejected,’ says my stepfather, ‘along with that trollop. I’ve seen her many a time at The Rodeo.’

‘The Rodeo?’

‘Yes the nightclub I run along with Arnie. If you took any interest in my life at all Stella you’d know about it, but you choose to behave like a fourteen year old brat all the time.’

‘Mitch.’

‘Well it’s true Fran. Anyway who are you here with tonight?’

My face falls.

‘You have got to be fucking kidding me. That boy doesn’t know when to quit. Where’s he gone anyway?’

My voice is small, ‘I don’t know. Mitch, what about that girl who was there. You said you knew her from the clubs?’

‘Yes Ronnie. By all accounts she gives a good time; she latches on to all the rich blokes. I suppose if you’ve been disinherited you have to do something to pay the bills.’

Tears start to fall down my cheeks as the world as I’ve known it starts to unravel.

‘Oh honey, whatever is the matter?’ says my mum, holding me in her embrace.

I crumple. ‘I’m sorry I’ve not been in touch mum,’ I sob into her chest, ‘I’ve been an idiot.’

I hold myself away from her, wiping my eyes. ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow, I promise. Enjoy the rest of your meal, I need to get home.’

‘Do you have a bill to be paid?’ Mitch asks.

I nod, ‘I think so. Just some olives and champagne.’

‘We’ll sort it darling,’ my mum says. I nod at her and leave the restaurant.

He’s waiting for me outside. He’s crying, I can see the tears on his cheek, lit by the restaurant lighting.

‘I need to explain, let me explain.
Please
Stella.’

I just turn away from him and get into a taxi waiting out front. He runs over and tries to hold onto the door, not letting me leave.

‘Please Stella, it’s not what you think.’

All of a sudden he’s dragged backwards by the Restaurant’s security staff. My stepfather is standing alongside them.

‘Get your hands away from my stepdaughter, Mr Gregory.’ He comes over and closes my door.

‘Goodnight Stella.’ He addresses the driver, pats the side of the taxi twice and it sets off.

I sit back in my seat as the taxi travels away and Gabe and Mitch disappear from view.

F to K

THE ALPHABET GAME

PART TWO

F TO K

Chapter 1

I throw a twenty pound note at the taxi driver and hurtle out of the car, only to be stuck at the wrong side of the apartment block doors rummaging for my keys as I was too busy ruminating to get them out ready. Where are the damn keys? I end up on my knees on the pavement, taking things out, like I’m begging for help. Please, no more delays, I need to be home. At last, my hands clasp the solid, cold metal and I pull them from the bag, the magnet part getting caught and pulling the inner lining in a hole. Damn it to fuck, I loved that bag. Waving the magnet over the panel, it beeps in error three times before I can stop my hand shaking enough to do it properly. Racing to the lifts, thoughts pierce my mind like arrows.

Why has Gabe not mentioned Isabel?

What the fuck is Ronnie doing?

Have I misjudged my stepfather?

I miss my mum.

The lift seems to take forever to arrive and then travel the thirteen floors to my apartment.

Finally inside my home, I slam the door and vault myself face first on the sofa. As I throw it, my bag slides across the laminate floor and lands near the television, spilling some of it’s contents.

My mind feels like that bag, scattered.

Please let this be a dream.

Waves of nausea keep coming. My legs curl up to my chest in a foetal position and I hold myself tightly.

The thoughts are exhausting and relentless. Alongside the din and hum from my own head, my phone repeatedly rings, and vibrates with text notifications. I pull myself off the settee, sliding along the floor until I reach my bag. Picking up my phone, I turn it off and then I get myself up and disconnect the apartment buzzer.

There’s only one way to stop all this internal noise, so I head for the kitchen. Picking a wine bottle from the silver wine rack mounted on the wall, I unscrew the lid and swig straight from the bottle.

Oblivion here I come.

I wake on the sofa with drool slipping out of the corner of my mouth and a cramping pain in my neck. A few blissful seconds of peace, before I see the empty bottle on the floor and my head throbs with pain in recognition. Clutching my head, I just make it to the bathroom before I vomit.

Time passes whilst I sit at the dining table nursing a glass of water. I cup my face in my hands, sliding them down my cheeks, my fingers rubbing at my eyelids. I’m too numb to cry. When will I ever learn that no-one can be trusted, except for myself? I let my guard down again and was betrayed, again. If someone took a picture of my heart it would look as shredded as pulled pork.

Swallowing the lump that appears in my throat, I wonder what I ever did to deserve to be so alone? Is Mitch right, have I been a spoilt brat? Despite using all the opportunities given to me at Boarding School I resented every minute there. I made no friends, having nothing in common with the spoilt, rich, mean girls. Or was I so unaware that I was exactly like them?

Who the fuck am I?

Thoughts come into my mind of a Jigsaw Stella. I build myself up and then someone pulls me back apart into jagged pieces. I’m done with this, being the manure round the rose bush. Being fucking invisible.

I’ll crucify the next bastard to piss me off.

Picking up the discarded wine bottle I throw it at the wall, glass shatters everywhere like emerald shards.

The action breaks the tension. I slump and head for my bed, seeking strength from slumber. As I begin to fall asleep, ideas of how to proceed float around the edge of my consciousness.

I wake up feeling sharper, in focus. I know what I need to do. Drastic measures are called for and I need a trip out.

A few hours later I gaze at the new Stella, with hair of midnight blue, courtesy of a permanent tint. If at first you don’t succeed - reinvent yourself and start again.

I take a deep breath and switch on my mobile phone, listening as it repeatedly beeps with messages and then I tap through them one by one. My finger resonates on the screen like an annoying drip. Missed calls from Gabe, texts from Gabe, texts from my stepfather that get angrier with each new message sent. Nothing from Ronnie.

One voicemail.

Who will it be from?

I press the relevant keys and listen.

‘This is a call for Stella Mulroney. It’s Henry Jones here, Veronica’s father. I need to talk to you about my daughter. Please call me as soon as possible.’ He then rattles out a number.

I put the phone down at the side of me, my hand trembling. Her father sounded so serious. Probably wants my help in sorting her out. I’m not strong enough. The newly put up armour is comparable to spun sugar, liable to snap. I need more time.

Then the door rattles so hard with knocks, I jump, my heartbeat rapid.

I slowly open the door, using the safety chain and he’s there, between the couple of inches of shared view. Dark shadows under his eyes like bruises, the stubble under his nose and on his chin torments me, my fingers want to reach for it.

‘Let me in Stella.’

Not a chance, not again.

‘Why?’ The words come out flat and indifferent.

He punches the wall and I step back, despite the chain. ‘Why? Because of last night. You know why? I need to know what that prick said to you about me.’

‘Enough, let’s put it that way shall we? Will that be all, because I’m tired?’

‘For someone who hates their Stepfather so much, you were very quick to trust him over me,’ he snarls. ‘I thought you were different. Turns out you’re just the fucking same as them all.’ He turns to walk away.

I close the door on him with a slam. Then I remove the chain and swing the door back open.

‘I beg your pardon. Do not shout that crap at me and turn to stomp off. Get your ass in here right now, Gregory.’

He pauses, shrugs his shoulders, but walks into the apartment.

‘I was going to bring flowers,’ he says like a sulking child who forgot Mother’s Day.

‘Well I only like flowers that are still growing in the ground, so I’m glad you couldn’t be bothered.’ I snap.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Well one’s cut down in it’s prime for other people’s vanity, the other’s left to live. Quite simple really.’

He looks at me, trying to work me out.

‘It wasn’t that I
couldn’t be bothered
. There’s just nowhere around here sells flowers. There’s only that stupid coffee shop around here.’

I rouse further, ‘Do NOT diss the coffee shop.’

I feel my jaw tighten. ‘I don’t know why I have let you in. Mitch told me you got my stepsister involved in drugs.’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

I’m silent for a moment whilst I try and get my head around the chicken and egg of my stepfather and Gabe.

‘I can’t think about this right now. My head hurts Gabe. Some other time, yeah, I’ll listen okay?’

‘Your hair looks nice,’ he reaches and touches the tips.

I back away, ‘I was feeling blue.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you Stella.’

‘Then don’t.’ I step away. ‘So before I throw you out, is there anything else you want?’

He growls. ‘I want you.’

Like opponents in a ring we size each other up, working out next moves. I look away first, uncomfortable under the intensity of his gaze.

‘Look at me, Stella.’

‘No.’

‘What are you afraid of?’

There’s a clatter as a pigeon lands on the balcony railing and I tense.

I look back at him.

‘I’m afraid of nothing.’

‘That’s not true. You’re scared of me now, scared of getting hurt.’ He nods towards the patio doors. ‘You’re scared of that balcony. I’ve seen you avoid it.’

I jut my chin out. ‘I’m scared of
nothing
. You’re mistaken.’

He stands tall and folds his arms across his chest. His eyes glint. ‘Really? Well in that case, F is for Fear. Come to me Stella, if you’re not scared. I dare you.’

He walks towards the balcony, opens the doors and sits on one of the chairs. Then he puts his feet up on the opposite one and holds his arms behind his head, putting his face to the sunshine.

I could hit that face. That beautiful face of betrayal.

I close my eyes. The balcony. I hate the balcony.

‘I’m making a coffee.’ I walk into the kitchen, giving myself some time.

I can sense he’s watching me as I make a drink. I crouch down behind the open door of the fridge as I get the milk. Focus. Come on, fearless Stella. This new version of Stella will like the balcony. I will own that balcony. If he’s innocent like he says I’ll screw him senseless and if he’s not, when I’ve used him for my own satisfaction I’ll screw him over. I stand back up and finish making my drink. Gabe is back letting the sun warm his face, eyes closed, so I strip down to my bra and pants, discarding the rest of my clothes on the kitchen floor. I’m left in a black lace balcony bra and matching lace edged boy shorts. I pick up my drink, stride out to the balcony and knocking his legs off the chair, sit across from him. Then I do my leg trick, slowly crossing it over the other. I look at him.

He licks his lip. ‘Such a tease.’