United State of Love (22 page)

The restaurant had been open for business for nearly a week now and so far everything had run smoothly. Barely a problem, certainly none that the customers would notice, thought Tex, as he sat back in his office chair. He picked up the local newspaper that had a feature about the opening. Too bad about the photo, but the write-up was good.

The sound of breaking glass cut through his thoughts. ‘What the…?’

Tex jumped to his feet, pushing his chair back but then checking himself. If there was someone breaking in, he needed to be prepared. He looked round the office, nothing obvious to defend himself with. If he could get to the kitchen then he had a whole host of items to choose from. However, the noise had sounded as if it had actually come from the kitchen, which also meant whoever was trying to get in, if they had already succeeded, that they too had the same choice of weapons.

He listened intently, trying to make out if there was anyone in the building. He moved silently out of the office to the kitchen door and, resting his ear against the door, listened again. There was some sort of muffled rummaging noise and then what sounded like metal sliding against metal. Whoever it was didn’t appear to have made it inside the premises.

Slowly, Tex opened the door. The kitchen was in darkness but he could just make out the broken pane of one of the leaded windows. Someone appeared to be bending over on the other side of it. Whoever it was must be standing on the wheelie bin to be that high up.

Tex weighed up his options. He could call the police, but by the time they arrived whatever this person had planned to do would no doubt be accomplished by then, and said person wouldn’t hang around. The other option was to creep around the back and catch him by surprise. Returning to the office, Tex picked up the front door keys and his cell phone. He made a quick and quiet call to the police and, ignoring their instructions not to confront the potential intruder, Tex made his way out the front of the restaurant, picking up a large black umbrella that had been left by the door. Anything was better than nothing.

Keeping close to the wall of the old church building, Tex made his way to the front corner. Aware that his silhouette would be framed by the street light, he tentatively poked his head round the corner, and seeing it was clear, light-footedly made his way down the side of the building. Before he reached the end came the sound of a man’s cry, followed by a thud, the sound of metal crashing to the ground, and then groaning.

Tex took his opportunity and charged round to the back of the building, feeling slightly ridiculous as he brandished the umbrella. He stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

‘Well, I’ll be…’ said Tex, approaching the man sprawled out in a heap on the tarmac.

‘Don’t just stand there, call an ambulance, I think I’ve broken my arm,’ demanded Andy Bartholomew.

‘That will match the window then,’ replied Tex, the adrenalin pumping wildly through him. He grabbed the curator by the collar and went to haul him up, but Andy’s screech and cry of pain stopped him. ‘Arsehole.’ Tex let go and Andy flopped back to the ground, groaning in pain.

It was then that Tex saw a metal cage, the sort usually used for transporting cats to the vets; however, that was no cat looking back at him. A pair of black beady eyes glinted in the moonlight. Jeez, Andy was going to put a rat in the kitchen.

‘Son of a bitch.’ Tex toe-poked Andy in the thigh. He crouched down and gripping Andy’s chin in one hand, turned his head towards him. ‘So it’s been you. The graffiti, the fire, the scratching up of my truck. It was you all along. Why?’

He released his grip a fraction so Andy could speak. The words were almost spat out.

‘You think you’re something special. Riding into town, everyone adoring you, including Anna. Making a fool out of me. So in love with yourself. Sleeping with anyone you care and then just dropping them when you’ve had enough. Well, you don’t deserve to be here and Anna would be better off without you. The town would be better off without you.’

Tex shook his head. ‘You crazy jerk, what do you think this is,
High Noon
?’ He turned at the sound of police sirens and blue flashing lights bouncing off the buildings. ‘Looks like the cavalry arrived just in time to save your sorry arse.’

Anna managed to sulk with Nathan for several days. Since her argument with Mark and the break-up with Tex, she had gradually become more and more miserable. She still went through the motions of the day, going to the gym, working for Jamie, but it was all with a heavy heart. Always the blanket of sadness engulfing her. Even the three A*’s, two A’s and a scattering of B’s and C’s Luke got for his GCSE results couldn't lift her mood. She hated Mark living with them but she knew she didn’t have any choice it in. The sooner the house was sold and she could move on, the better, and with Tex out of the frame now Mark didn’t have any reason to harm him.

Up until Christine's visit last week, Anna still had half a hope that somehow her and Tex would get back together. However, that last shred of hope seemed dashed now; Christine would not have wasted the opportunity of giving Tex a shoulder to cry on, whilst secretly calculating how to win him over. Seemed like her plan was working if Tex had invited Christine as his guest for the opening evening.

The tears still caught her by surprise when she thought about Tex, fantasising about how they could make things work, remembering those glorious days and nights spent together. His sensual touch, his beautiful kisses, his generosity to her feelings, and their lovemaking. Oh how she missed him. The pain she felt in her heart never diminishing.

Today Anna was having a rare day at home alone. Mark was on parent visiting duties and had taken Luke along too, they wouldn't be back until much later that evening. She had agreed a tenancy on a flat and was due to pick the keys up in a couple of weeks. Anna knew she really should be packing some more of her things, but she had been thrown off-kilter when she came across the jar of olives Tex had bought her.

She had put the jar of olives in her bedside table, along with her passport. Why there and not in the fridge, she had no idea, but then again, she hadn't exactly been thinking straight that week. Not after her confrontation with Mark.

Studying the jar of green olives, Tex's words coming back to her.
‘A little each day.’ ‘You will learn to love them.’
She unscrewed the lid and after a couple of attempts, managed to secure an olive between her finger and thumb. Tentatively, she nibbled the end.

‘Yuk!’ She scrunched her face up but ate it all the same. Somehow it made her feel closer to Tex, doing something he had wanted her to do. If only everything else were that simple.

A knock at the front door jolted Anna from her thoughts. Popping the lid back on the jar, she jogged downstairs to see who it was.

‘Christine!’ The last person Anna expected to be standing on her doorstep. The smug look on her visitor's face alarmed Anna immediately. ‘What are you doing here?’ She looked past Christine towards her car, half expecting to see a drunk Nathan sitting there.

‘Don't worry, I haven't got your precious, married, father of four, brother in the car.’ Christine waved a newspaper in front of Anna's face before pushing it towards her. ‘But I do have this. Page eight.’

Anna rustled through the
Sussex Observer
until she got to page eight. Her heart tripped, surged and fell simultaneously as she took in the picture staring back at her. Tex standing outside the Arundel restaurant, surrounded by his staff, looking handsome in his chef's whites, his beautiful eyes smiling back at the camera, matching his infectious smile. He looked good. The not so good bit was his arm around the waist of a woman. Tall, slim, long flowing waves of brunette hair, immaculately dressed in a little black number. Her arm around Tex, smiling or was it gloating? The same smug smile that Christine now had on her face.

Anna fought every urge in her body to scream out loud. She wouldn't allow herself to crack in front of Christine. No way would she give Cruella the satisfaction. ‘And your point in coming all this way to show me?’

‘Just thought you might be interested, that’s all.’

‘So had enough of messing around with my brother and moved on to Tex now, have you? Huh!’ retorted Anna, trying to stop her voice from breaking. Tex and Christine! She could barely believe it.

‘Oh please! Me and your brother? He was far too under the thumb to be any fun.’

‘More like prefers his wife to you.’ Childish comment, yes, but Anna felt better for saying it.

Christine’s mouth twisted into something resembling a smile. ‘Enjoy the paper.’ Then turning on her heel, she swaggered back down the path.

Anna spread the newspaper out on the coffee table and, kneeling on the floor, made herself methodically and carefully read the whole article, looking for any clue, any reference as to what Christine was doing in the shot.

The article never mentioned her. Not once. It gave some background to Tex's early career, where he was from, together with details of his restaurant in Guildford. But nothing about Christine. Anna studied the photograph. Tex definitely had his arm around Christine's waist.

The familiar pain of a knife being twisted in her heart and the feeling of sadness in the pit of her stomach began to erupt. Here she was, still grieving for him, still missing him, still wanting him, and there he was happy, smiling, hooked up with someone else. He had got over her, already moving on to a new woman. She must have meant nothing to him.

Anna could feel her heart pounding, a new emotion rising within her. A fierce burning anger that was raging through every part of her body. Tex had well and truly reeled her in, hook, line and sinker. All his comments and condemnation of Mark's behaviour, only to be just like him. Angry and hurt, she screwed up the newspaper.

‘You're a fraud, Tex Garcia. A fraud!’ she shouted at the crumpled paper. ‘A liar! Just like Mark. Do you hear me?’

Of course he couldn’t hear her. God, if he were here now she’d give him a piece of her mind. She paused. Everyone was always telling her to stand up for herself, not to let people walk all over her. Well, maybe just this time she would speak up. Nice Anna, who always tried to smooth things over, avoided confrontation – what a loser she turned out to be. Lost her husband. Lost her boyfriend. About to lose her home. Maybe she just would give Tex what for!

Funny how it seemed such a good idea at the time, when her hurt and anger were at their peak. Anna had already driven by Tex's apartment, but when she saw his car wasn't there, now found herself standing outside the new restaurant, hand paused in mid-air as she re-evaluated her wisdom. She dropped her hand to her side. She had been so incensed, not to mention upset, by Christine's visit, Anna had just grabbed her bag and car keys and driven straight over to Arundel. She didn't even remember much of the journey. She had obviously negotiated the A27 between Chichester and Arundel successfully, but her mind had been on Tex and not her driving.

In her blind fury, she hadn't even stopped to consider the timing of her appearance. The restaurant wasn't due to open for another hour, although the main doors to the entrance foyer were open. Through the inner glass doors she could see waiting staff busying themselves in anticipation of the evening service.

Now that her initial rage had subsided to a simmering wrath, she wondered whether she could actually go through with this. Perhaps she should just leave it. Tex had moved on, and she should accept it.

Anna took the creased sheet of newspaper from her bag and looked at the picture of Tex and Christine. It did the trick, fanning the flames of anger that were smouldering in her stomach, breathing new life into it. Stuffing the article back into her bag, she rapped on the glass before she had time to change her mind again. She noticed a waitress make eye contact with her and then gesture to the maître d'. She knocked on the glass again so he was in no doubt that she wanted him to come over.

The maître d' opened the door slightly, just enough so his frame filled the gap, and just enough so that Anna could not mistake it as an invitation into the restaurant.

‘I'm afraid we're closed,’ he said apologetically. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’

‘Yes. I would like to speak with Mr Garcia please.’

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘No. Look, I know he's here because his car is parked out the front. I really do need to speak to him.’

‘Is there something I could help you with?’

‘No.’

‘Perhaps I could take your name and any message,’ suggested the maître d' patiently.

Anna let out a big sigh, give him his due, he was doing his best to protect his boss.

‘I really must speak to Mr Garcia, in person, now. Could you ask him to come here? Please?’ Anna was unyielding, feeling more and more impatient. She hoisted the straps of her bag up her shoulder and drummed the bag with her fingertips, remembering the newspaper tucked inside it.

‘Madam … ’

Anna didn't let him speak, instead standing on tiptoe, she shouted over the man's shoulder. ‘Tex! Tex Garcia! I know you're there. Come here. I want to speak to you!’ She stuck her foot in the way of the closing door. She wasn't leaving without a fight.

‘Madam, please move your foot. If you don't leave I will have to call the police.’

‘Just get Mr Garcia then. Tex!’

The waiting staff had ground to a halt, watching the scene unfold in front of them, exchanging uncertain looks, while Anna shouted like a termagant. ‘Tex!’

Taking the man behind the door by surprise, Anna gave it a sudden push. In an instant she found herself being propelled into the restaurant, stumbling slightly before regaining her balance. She took a moment to straighten herself up, adjust her cardigan and brush imaginary dust from her trousers. Anna looked round the restaurant, aware that every member of staff had stopped to watch her.

The door to the back room opened suddenly and out walked Tex, flanked by two other chefs, a frown on his face. He looked slightly startled to see Anna there but quickly regained his composure. He muttered something to the two shotgun riders and both disappeared back into the kitchen. The maître d' scurried past her, a worried look on his face.

‘Chef, I am so sorry. I tried to stop her but … ’

Tex held up his hand. ‘It's okay, Stefan. Don't worry.’ Stefan gave Anna an uncertain look. ‘Thank you, Stefan,’ said Tex before flicking an enquiring look towards the rest of his staff. Immediately, everyone returned to their work. When he finally turned his attention to Anna, she was sure she saw a flicker of amusement cross his face. Now though, he looked impassively across the restaurant floor at her.

Anna shifted her weight uneasily from one foot to another.

He spoke first. ‘So?’

Anna looked uncomfortably around the restaurant.

Tex spoke again. ‘I assume you came here for a reason. Shall we go into the office?’ His voice was calm and indifferent.

Anna followed him back through to the office.

Entering first, Tex held the door open for Anna, stepping aside so she could walk in. She stood self-consciously in the centre of the room, a desk in front of her and a couple of filing cabinets behind. Tex shut the door and walked over, perching on the edge of the desk, arms folded.

‘So what is so important that you have to force your way in to the building, shouting so loud that you could be heard whether I was in Arundel or Guildford?’

Anna recalled her rehearsed speech. Now how was she going to start? Oh yeah, that was it.

‘Out of all the people I've ever known, I would have said that you were one of the most honest, considerate and genuine.’ Anna took a breath; this had sounded much better in her head than it did now, out loud. Tex's face was still impassive. She carried on. ‘I don't know how I got it so wrong. I must be a terrible judge of character. Of men. You even get other people to do your dirty work.’

‘And what is this dirty work?’ asked Tex.

‘Hiding behind your maître d' for a start,’ bristled Anna. ‘But worst of all, sending Christine to see me.’

‘Christine?’

‘Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.’

Tex gave a little laugh. ‘But I don't.’

Anna snatched the newspaper cutting from her bag and slapped it down onto the desk before retreating a few steps back to the middle of the room.

‘You could at least have told me yourself instead of letting her do it.’ Anna took deep breaths as the anger and hurt reared up again.

Tex picked up the cutting, looked at it, turned it over and then back again. He looked blankly at Anna. ‘I am sorry but I don’t understand. Why this? I haven't sent anyone to see you. Why would I?’

Anna flounced her arms against her sides in frustration and exhaled theatrically. Did she have to spell it out? Obviously!

‘I believed you Tex. I believed that you actually cared about me. I believed you were different.’ Anna had to stop, her voice was cracking. How could she feel so angry and yet so sad at the same time? She felt swamped by a whole range of conflicting emotions.

‘You were right to believe me,’ said Tex, standing up. He took a step towards her. Anna matched it with a step backwards.

‘No I wasn't,’ she snapped. ‘If you meant what you said, how come you moved on so quickly to your next conquest?’ She gestured towards the cutting in his hand.

‘Conquest? Christine?’ His voice was incredulous.

‘Yes!’ Anna was aware her voice was high-pitched as it fought for space in her dry, closing throat. She swallowed hard. ‘Yes. You didn't waste any time getting with Christine. As if that wasn't bad enough, you didn't even have the balls to tell me yourself. You let her do that.’

‘Do you honestly think that?’ demanded Tex, his eyes fixing on her.

‘You haven't denied it,’ challenged Anna, sticking out her chin defiantly.

‘Why should I? You seem to have got it all worked out in your head.’

‘I thought I could trust you. You never really cared about me. You got what you wanted and then moved on. You're really no different to Mark.’ Anna turned to leave but Tex reached the door first, holding his hand against it.

‘You are not going anywhere. You can't come here shouting about how you've been hurt, accusing me of not caring about you, telling me I am like him, and then think you can just walk away.’ Tex was struggling to keep his voice calm but Anna could hear the anger bubbling under his words. ‘I cannot believe you think I would behave in that way. Of course I wouldn’t send Christine to tell you something like that.’

‘Tell me yourself then. Tell me now about you and Christine.’ If he said it, she could leave. She had made her point.

‘There is nothing to tell.’

‘Bullshit. I've been here before with Mark. Don't think I'm going to go through it all again with you.’

‘I did everything I could to reassure you, to make you trust me. I wanted you to realise that not all men were like him. I was different. I am different. I was with you because I wanted to be, because you made me happier than I had ever been. And now you throw it all back at me. It meant nothing to you.’

Tex closed his eyes and banged the back of his head against the door. When he spoke again, it was calmer and quieter but the anger was still there. ‘Tell me Anna, when Christine came to see you, how did it make you feel? The thought of me and Christine together. What did you feel? Hurt?’

Anna nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Sad? No wait, sad isn't the right word. Err …  devastated?’

‘Mmm.’ Anna nodded again, not sure where this was going.

‘Rejected? Confused? Angry?’

‘Yes, all of those things.’

‘
You felt the same as me. That is how I felt when you chose him
over me. That night at your house, when you wouldn’t come with me, well, I’m sorry I just don’t get it. You tell me to leave. Me, who has shown you nothing but love. Then you come here and tell me you were only a conquest to me. That I used you.
Unbelievable! It’s me who has been used by you. Used just to make him jealous so you could get back together.’

‘No! No! That's not true.’

‘What am I supposed to think? You won’t even divorce him. I have made it all so easy for you.’

His eyes felt like laser beams, burning into her own. She looked down at her feet, unable to bear the look of anger in his face. Anger directed at her.

‘This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come,’ she muttered.

‘At least we agree on one thing.’ His words stung like acid. He opened the door and walked out, leaving her standing there alone in the middle of the room.

For a moment Anna wasn't sure if she could trust her legs to carry her safely out of the building. Everything had gone horribly wrong. She had been so furious and hurt by Christine's visit, her response was a knee-jerk reaction that had desperation written all over it. She suspected she had used her anger as an excuse to see Tex, but what had she expected? Tex to say it was all a misunderstanding, he wasn't with Christine. That he would wait until Mark had gone. That he understood and everything would be all right. Is that what she had secretly hoped would happen?

Truthfully?

Yes. She probably had.

As it happened, he had turned on her, telling her how she had hurt him and used him. What a mess she had made of it all. She needed to get out of here.

Through the open door, she could see Tex chopping vegetables, fast and furiously, sending the knife up and down in swift, small, precise movements. He stopped and looked up at her. Oh the contempt in his eyes, he really hated her.

She was shaking by the time she reached her car and feeling light-headed. She wasn’t sure she was in a fit state to drive. She couldn't stay here though. Anna wandered up the road with no real plan as to what she was doing, and eventually found herself walking into the Kings Head pub just along from Tex's restaurant. It wasn't too busy, just several suited men and women, probably taking an end of week drink, looking relaxed, laughing at something one of them had just said, sipping their wines and lagers, de-mob happy with that Friday feeling.

Anna sat in the corner with her white wine. She took a large gulp. Perhaps the wine would help to dull the pain. She felt slightly self-conscious sitting in a pub on her own, drinking. She'd just have this one and then head off home. There was no point hanging around. Tex would be busy with evening service now, and even if he wasn't, what was there left to say? They had said it all.

‘Drinking alone on a Friday, that's never a good sign,’ a slightly familiar voice said.

Anna looked up. Great! Handy Andy – just what she needed. He put a glass of wine on the table and sat down next to her.

‘Hello, Anna. I would ask how you are, but seeing as you look thoroughly miserable there's probably no point.’ He smiled and pushed the fresh glass of wine towards her. ‘Cheers.’

‘No, I'm okay, thanks,’ said Anna, pushing the glass back his way and noticing the sling and plaster cast on his arm. ‘What have you done to yourself?’

‘Fell down some stairs. Anyway, the drink’s a peace offering.’ Andy smiled and pushed the wine glass back to her.

‘Peace offering?’ she eyed him suspiciously.

‘Yeah. Look, about that business with me and you at that promotional evening.’

‘What about it?’

‘I was …  well …  you know…’

‘Out of order?’ she prompted.

‘Yeah, out of order. It was wrong of me. I'm sorry.’ He held out his hand. ‘No hard feelings?’

Anna studied his face for a moment, uncertain whether that was a sincere apology or not, but realised it was probably the only one she was going to get. Oh, what the hell. Let bygones be bygones and all that. She shook his hand. ‘Sure, no hard feelings.’

‘Excellent, now drink up. And you can tell me all your problems if you like. Or if you prefer we can just get wasted.’ Andy took a long slug of his pint, as if to show he meant business.

‘Cheers,’ echoed Anna, picking up her glass.

Pouring her troubles out to Andy wasn’t appealing; however, getting wasted was an option she hadn’t previously considered. She took a second, larger mouthful of wine. Suddenly the idea of going home to an empty house wasn’t so attractive. She’d only end up dwelling on Tex and Christine. Misery. No, she’d stay here, have another drink, relax and forget about the whole sorry mess.