Текст книги "Vulture a Stepbrother Romance"

Автор книги: Emilia Beaumont

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

6

Sara

Autumn slipped into winter, and from the kitchen window, my eyes scanned the bare trees that lined the back of the property. The once lively forest, no longer buzzing with life, was a brutal reflection of my own barren life. As winter broke and the snows started to fall, friends started to distance themselves, and sometimes days would pass before I saw another living person that wasn’t Harvey.

I wrapped my hands around my steaming mug, indulging in its heat. I had the radio on in the background, the constant chatter a small comfort. Otherwise the house was too still, the emptiness only encouraging my overactive imagination.

Once upon a time, Eric and I dreamed of having a family of our own. The loud noises of our children’s giggles and antics would fill each room; loud footsteps would thump against the floor. Now every aspect of that life had vanished into thin air. And a part of me was glad. God only knows how Eric would’ve treated our imaginary kids if they pissed him off.

I also tried to look to my future, but I couldn’t see myself starting again with another man, going down the same path I’d already trodden, even though I longed for a baby. What if he turned out just like Eric? Sweet, loving and caring for the duration of our engagement, but then the mask came off as soon as we were behind closed doors, and I had a ring on my finger. What if it was me that brought the worst out of them? What if I was the common denominator?

I needn’t have worried about it all, anyway. It was too soon, and it wasn’t as if I was a catch or anything, dressed in my flannel PJs, shuffling from room to room like a lost zombie. I knew I needed to brave the outside world once again, but why bother when it was safer to wrap myself up within this house? No one could hurt me here. At least not anymore.

The vibration of the phone startled me. I swung my short legs off the window seat and reached for the device on the table, if only to make the noise stop.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Could I speak with Mrs Chambers, please?” a monotone voice asked on the other end of the line.

“Speaking.”

“Hi, my name is Alice from Bluelife Insurance.”

I closed my eyes and wondered why she was calling. I hoped that finally the life policy that my husband had taken out would be paid up. I knew our savings were dwindling, and it wouldn’t be too long before they ran out. “Oh, hi. I’ve been expecting to receive a payment, but I’ve not received anything yet.”

“I’m afraid there’s been an unexpected development.”

My eyes widened. “What do you mean?” I stammered as I leaned against the wall, my legs threatening to give out. “Is there a problem with the pay-out? I know we were all up to date with the monthly payments.”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with that.” The lady paused. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but we felt it better that we call to let you know. The report of the investigation into your husband’s passing concludes that the accident was a result of intentional actions.”

“You mean like someone interfered with the car?

“No. The car was found to be in perfectly good working order, and witness statements say that the car just went off the road and—”

“Stop. Just tell me what you’re trying to say. You think Eric killed himself?”

I felt my world shake beneath my feet. My head spun from the woman’s words.

“That’s not possible,” I whispered, thinking back to that morning. His actions were not of a suicidal man, far from it. “Eric didn’t kill himself. It was an accident.”

Alice sighed. “During Mr Chambers’ autopsy, there were trace elements of Zoloft in his system,an anti-depressant. Consequently, the investigators suspect that the incident was deliberate, and therefore the life insurance policy will not be paid out.”

The accident was deliberate.

Eric killed himself.

Those words ran through my mind, clouding every logical thought as I leaned my head back against the wall. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he do it? Had Eric suddenly grown a conscience and regretted taking me against me will all those times? I couldn’t breathe. Breathing seemed to be the hardest thing to do at that moment.

When the lady said her goodbyes and hung up, I slid down to the floor. My chest heaved with short intakes of breath. Beads of cold sweat broke out the side of my forehead.

“Eric,” I said to the empty room, “what the fuck did you do?”

Teardrops fell down my cheeks, and my shoulders trembled with racking sobs. He really screwed me over this time, I thought bitterly. I wrapped my arms around my legs, hugging my knees.

“What the hell are you doing on the floor?”

I must’ve dozed off against the wall as I’d tried to come up with a reason why Eric would’ve taken his own life.

“Harvey? What are you doing here? I asked sleepily.

“Answer my question first,” he demanded. “You’ve been crying.” It wasn’t a question. He stared at my face, puffy and streaked with dried tears.

“I got some bad news about Eric’s insurance.”

“Oh?” he said, waiting for me to continue. He reached out a hand and levered me up to my feet.

“They think Eric crashed the car on purpose and killed himself.” I laughed. It wasn’t comical, and it was absolutely absurd once I said it out loud.

“His autopsy revealed he was taking medication for depression… He wouldn’t do it. But I don’t know what to believe. So now I have no husband, no fucking money, and I have to come to terms with the fact he’d rather top himself than be here with me. Isn’t life just fucking peachy?”

Harvey took hold of my upper body, forcing me to keep still in my rage. “Sara, take a breath. If he did it, it had nothing to do with you.”

“Oh great, that’s even worse!”

“How so?”

“Then it makes everything he put—” I stopped myself.

“Makes everything what? Finish what you were going to say, Sara.”

Pointless, I wanted to say. All the pain, the control, it was all for nothing. I’d put up with it because I thought I loved him. Thought I owed it to our marriage.

“Tell me,” he encouraged.

I shook my head and stepped out of his grasp. “What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked, angry with him for coming. It was illogical, but why was he here, why did he keep turning up? Why on earth did he have to care, when all I wanted to do was fade away?

Harvey ignored my question again. “You’re gonna have to deal with whatever crap you’re holding back sooner or later, you know.” He stuck out his index finger, brandishing it like a weapon. “It’s going to eat you up inside unless you let it out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit! And you know it, Sara.” His eyes blazed, and he took a threatening step toward me. I shrunk back away from him in fright, regretting the movement a second later. I had to remind myself he wasn’t Eric, but the reflex was ingrained in me like second nature.

He raised his eyebrow as he studied my movement, then took a step back.

“If you really want to know why I’m here, I brought you some food. Sushi from the deli I know you like. ‘Cause I know you haven’t been eating.”

I bowed my head sheepishly. I couldn’t and wouldn’t look at him, too ashamed and angry with myself for being so pathetic. So weak. For not being able to let him into the dark corners of my life. He was the only who put up with me, took time out from his busy life to come sit with me. Even if we never shared a word, it felt like we were communicating, that he understood what I was going through. Fuck, he was my only friend, and I was treating him like shit.

“Well?”

“Well, what!?” I shouted. “What the hell do you want from me?” Why was I trying to push him away?

He shrugged and dropped the brown paper bag he’d been holding.

“I’m here for you, Sara. But you need to meet me half-fucking-way.”

“Fuck off, Harvey.” Anger fuelled my regretful words. “You’re not my shrink!”

He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

Furious, I marched upstairs and threw myself under my duvet. I was doing a fine job of pushing everyone in my life away… Maybe it was me that was the problem?

Bills started to pile up on the coffee table, and I had no idea how to handle any of them. It was like I was entering adulthood all over again, learning how to look after myself. Standing on my own two feet. Or at least trying to, but most days I couldn’t bear to think about the money I owed.

I’d also come to the conclusion that all my married friends were avoiding me. I was a social black hole, the person no one wanted to invite round for a coffee or dinner party for fear they’d get sucked into my shitty world. As if my bad luck of losing a husband was catching. They didn’t want the reminder that their own lives could be shat upon at any moment.

I twiddled my thumbs. I was close to tearing at my hair as I considered all the problems that were beginning to stack up. I needed someone to talk to, to figure out my next step, and Harvey hadn’t come back around. Well, was it any wonder, I thought? It’d been days since I’d last seen his face, and truthfully, I missed more than I wanted to admit.

My hands clutched at my phone, fingers tense, debating whether or not it was a good idea to call the one person I should be able to discuss anything with. But since the wake I hadn’t spoken to my twin, feeling that I shouldn’t have to apologise for her overreaction or her jealousy.

She was my last resort, especially since my fight with Harvey.

After a brief moment of hesitation, I dialled her number and waited as it rang for a long time. I wasn’t sure whether she would pick up or ignore my call, but just as I was about to give up, she answered. “What do you want, Sara?”

I felt my heart sank. “Anita,” I began and rubbed at the hollow socket of my eyes, “I’m sorry about the other week. Emotions were high that day. I didn’t mean for us to fight or anything like that during Eric’s wake.”

“There’s no point rehashing it, Sara. Look, I’m busy. What do you want?” Anita said.

“I…I was wondering if I could steal you for a moment and have a chat? A coffee maybe?” I asked, sounding hopeful.

An irritated huff left her before saying, “Sara, I know you’re going through a tough time, but I don’t have time for a coffee. Why did you call during dinnertime? You know how busy I get. Again, you just don’t think. I have children to look after, a husband to feed and a house to keep clean. Now if there’s nothing else, I’ll to speak to you later.”

Before I could speak, she ended the call, leaving me with the phone in my hand and a loud beeping that cried out into the distance.

Monday morning, the beginning of a new week, full of promise, and I was determined to make an effort. I parked my car and walked towards the animal shelter Eric allowed me to volunteer at. This had been my only workplace during my three years of marriage.

I took the small flight of stairs in twos, smiling as I went, telling myself today was going to be a good day. It was the start of something new, and I looked forward to meeting and caring for all the new arrivals if my plan was successful.

“Hey Sara,” a familiar and friendly voice said. “How you keeping, pet?” asked Dianne, the manager of the shelter. She held a young Lab to her chest; the little rascal nudged and nipped playfully at her fingers.

“Hi, Dianne. I’m good.” I greeted her and gave her a quick hug.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said suddenly. “We were all thinking about you. Tragic. Taken so young. Hope you’re coping OK.”

“Yeah.” I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat.

“Did you come to get some animal therapy?” Dianne asked.

“Well, yes, that of course, but I also wanted to ask you if there was any way I could go full-time? If you could take me on as a worker here instead of a volunteer?”

Her smile faded. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she said as flicker of sympathy crossed her hazel eyes. “We don’t have the budget for it. And as much as I would love to pay you, I can’t. Maybe next year when we get more donations. But you know how it is, we barely get enough money to feed the animals.”

“I know. That’s fine. Just thought I’d ask,” I said, though I was far from OK. Working at the shelter and getting paid for it was my master plan, the first step toward pulling my life around. And here I was, falling at the first bloody hurdle. “I’ll go into town and see if I can find anyone hiring.”

I turned to leave but she called out to me. “Actually, wait!”

“Yes?” I said, brightening.

“Try the new café that’s just opened up. The little boutique. You’ll know it when you see it, all done up fancy. I heard they’re looking for someone. And feel free to give my name as a reference.”

“Thanks, Dianne. I appreciate it.”

I said my goodbyes, took a quick tour to view the new kittens, then left, feeling like maybe there was hope for me yet.

7

Sara

I was dreaming.

I knew it the moment it started, but I was unable to pull myself out from under the spell. A cloud of fog cleared a path in front of me, and I blinked through my blurry eyes. I tried to make sense of my surroundings, of the black emptiness that seemed to dominate the room. My ears pricked up. A faint voice called my name. It was close, but I couldn’t see the owner. Scared, my feet locked together, unable to move.

The fog transformed into a pitch-black mist that swirled around me, making it almost impossible to figure out where the sound was coming from. My palms were damp.

“Sara.”

I turned my head towards the sound, spinning; he was close, but I saw nothing.

“Sara.” There it was again. The thudding in my chest picked up speed. He was going to hurt me. But I wouldn’t let him touch me like that ever again. I thrashed my head around as the voice continued to plague me.

All of sudden my limbs were no longer within my control. My wrists were pinned by an invisible force, and I felt hot breath against my neck. Eric’s cologne, thick and overpowering, raped my senses.

He was going to hurt me again, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I wasn’t strong enough. But then another voice joined the chorus, this one encouraging me to fight, to not give up.

Harvey?

I gritted my teeth and pulled at the non-existent restraints. To my surprise my arms flew apart. My mouth parted in shock. I tried to take a deep breath and nothing came, but this was my chance. I turned on my heel and started to run, my legs pumping wildly into the abyss.

With a jolt, I awoke. My body shook with spasms, and I was gasping for air. I sat up and buried my head between my knees, drawing in breath, telling myself I was OK.

The sound of my alarm on the bedside table cut through the panic, bringing me back to the real world. I turned it off and waited till my breathing returned to normal before getting up on shaky legs and going to the bathroom.

I walked over to the mirror above the sink and gazed at my reflection. Dark circles outlined my tired green eyes, but at least my face had lost a bit of its chubbiness, a diet of air and desperation filling my belly instead. I stepped away and took a hot shower. Soaking in the scalding water, feeling it cascading down my bare back, washing away the last traces of the haunting dream.

Afterwards, I threw on a decent pair of black trousers, grabbed my uniform blouse from the closet and slipped it on. I was a part of the working masses after managing to win over the owner of the new café. And today was my first day. In the car I turned the heater up full blast and made my way through the quiet snow-covered streets to the coffee shop. I stepped inside as a tiny bell above the door announced my arrival, and I closed my eyes to revel in the warm scent of coffee.

There was no one manning the bespoke counter, and I grabbed a chair to wait. There were no customers yet to speak of, but I knew from my first visit it would get busy soon enough. I examined the chestnut-brown walls that gave the interior a soothing, welcoming feeling. Little artificial plants were dotted around for extra colour. I studied the location of each section, noting the placement of the tables. I wasn’t sure I’d be waitressing as well as serving, but it didn’t do any harm to get the lay of the land.

A silhouette passed behind a curtain at the back of the store, and a woman in her late fifties greeted me, enveloping my fingers in her chubby ones as I stood to greet her.

“You must be Sara Chambers,” her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

“Yes,” I answered.

The older woman smiled and said, “I’m Jodie-Ann, but you can call me Jo. I think you met my husband the other day?”

I smiled back. “That’s right. I hope I still have the job?”

“Oh, yes, dear. Don’t worry about that.” She beckoned me toward the curtain, and I followed her deep into the storage room.

“Well, there’s no time like the present. Let’s get you started. Everything you’ll need will mostly likely be in here, and if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you how to work the machines. They can be a bit finicky, but you’ll get the hang of it. You just gotta show ‘em who’s boss.”

I nodded and watched as she took me through each procedure, pointing out the functions of the machines as she went. It was fascinating to see her wrinkly fingers settle on each mechanism, light but firm, twisting and turning here and there and making an awful lot of noise in the process. I nodded my head as we went along, showing my understanding.

“Did you get all that?” Jo asked, cutting through my reverie.

“I think so, yes.” I answered, though I cursed myself for not bringing a notebook and pen to write it all down.

No sooner had Jo finished showing me how the other appliances behind the counter worked, that customers started to stream in. I stood anxiously, waiting to take their orders and praying I didn’t screw up the only job I could get.

“This is harder than I thought,” I said a few hours later, after the lunch rush. I flopped down on a chair, my arms resting on the table’s surface as I buried my head into them. My feet protested the hours of standing up, screaming for me to stop, and my back ached.

“And it’s just your first day,” Jo said, her voice croaky as she laughed at me and patted my back sympathetically. “But you’ll get used to it.”

I groaned inwardly as beads of sweat trickled down my forehead.

“Sara?”

I looked up and saw Harvey striding towards me. “Thought that was you.” His steps were quick and efficient, his long legs clad in a blue pinstripe. His hair was wet, slicked back, but it hadn’t been raining, and I wondered where he’d been. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d just come from a woman’s apartment, his hair wet from a shower he’d had to take to get the smell of sex off him.

“Harvey,” I said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he said, staring at my black and white uniform.

“I got a job, what does it look like?” I said, the edges of a smile making an appearance on my face. It was good to see him again; I hated how much of a bitch I’d been the last time we spoke. He’d only been trying to help. “Gotta make ends meet.”

I tried to make light of the situation, to reassure him that I was doing OK, but his questioning eyes had the undesired of effect of making me think twice about trying to fool him.

He frowned at me. “But what about your work at the animal shelter? You loved it there didn’t you?”

“They couldn’t take me on full-time, let alone pay me. So I had to take the first thing I could get. Eric isn’t here to look after me anymore. I had to get off my fat arse and work.”

“Sara,” he warned, “don’t say things like that about yourself. You are far from fat.” He took the chair opposite me; his hands reached out, taking my hands in his larger ones, sending a domino effect of delicious ripples up my arms. “But all things aside, are you OK?”

I decided to put on a brave face and said nonchalantly, “I’m a big girl, Harvey. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He scoffed. “That ship has already sailed.”

I forced a smile. “I’m doing great. And to prove it, how about you come around tonight, and I’ll cook you a meal as my way of apologising for being a horrible cow towards you the other day?”

His face broke into a grin.

“That sounds great. What time do you want me?”

“Anytime,” I replied, enjoying the way my hands fit comfortably in his.