OUR TEAM MEMBER, AUTHOR EVA BIELBY, IS SHARING CHAPTER 16 FROM HER NOVEL, 'THE SCARS' - FINAL BOOK IN 'THE HURT' TRILOGY #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat

CHAPTER 16

I drank my way through half a bottle of gin before staggering up the stairs to bed. I fully expected to spend half the night fretting about having to endure the company of James Mortimer for four hours or longer on our drive to Manchester. Fortunately, luck was on my side and the two paracetamol I swallowed down with my last tipple had served me well. It was a miracle. After roughly six and a half hours of quality sleep I managed to wake up without a hangover.

I scurried around the kitchen with my head spinning. The stress kicked in again as I got organised and filled Harry’s self-feeder. I hoped it would last him until I arrived home. I sat at the breakfast bar having my first caffeine fix and my stomach started to churn with anxiety. I forced myself to eat some toast hoping it would settle the queasiness.

Having rushed around earlier to be ready in plenty of time, I cursed myself. I now had well over half an hour to wait with nothing else to do but sit and allow myself to get embroiled in an attack of the jitters. My overnight case, handbag and coat were in the hallway near the front door, ready since the previous night. All I needed to do this morning was to add my hairbrush, toiletries and make-up which I’d done already when I came downstairs.

I manically plumped up the cushions on the sofas, wiped the worktops with antibacterial spray and twisted my hands nervously, all several times over. I allowed several unsettling thoughts to pass through my mind on repeat. How would we manage to be civil with each other for roughly forty eight hours? Maybe I would watch a film later and shut myself in my hotel room so I didn’t have to spend time with him. Bloody hell, I hope he doesn’t try to belittle me in front of others attending the seminar. God, I’m dreading the journeys there and back; two lots of four hour silence. Would we speak at all? If so, what would we talk about?

While processing these thoughts, I had a solution. I hurried through to the lounge and grabbed a book I was in the middle of reading.

Reading might be a good idea, I won’t need to speak to him!

I glanced through at the kitchen wall-clock; one minute to go before he would be here to collect me. Giving my sleepy pet a quick stroke as I passed his bed, I went through to the hallway and unlocked the front door. Peering out into the street after opening the door, I looked to my left just as James’s BMW turned into the cobbled road. I cringed, my stomach felt like a nest of butterflies. Stepping briefly back into the hall, I grabbed my case, coat and handbag, then locked the door as he pulled up alongside me. He jumped out of the car beaming.

“Good morning, Helen! How are we this morning?”

The same condescending grin he always had was plastered across his face. I hated it.

Fucking smug bastard!

My good manners coming to the fore as always, I returned the greeting without a shred of sincerity.

“Morning!”

He opened up the boot and grabbed all the things out of my hands to stow away.

“No, James. I want the handbag in the car with me!”

“Oh, okay!” Without taking his grinning eyes from mine, he offered it back and almost let it drop. It was only due to my swift reaction of snatching out at it that saved the bag from falling onto the cobbles.

“Ooops! Sorry! Clumsy of me.”

At that he turned away, the broad smirk still present. Things didn’t bode well for a pleasant journey. I got into the car and closed the door with a resounding slam which I genuinely hadn’t intended to do. His grin disappeared and he shot me an evil glare.

“For pity’s sake, Helen! What has the car door done to you? Leave it on its bloody hinges.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean…” I let the words tail off knowing he wouldn’t believe me.

I considered the exchange of words so far and stared straight ahead for the first hour or so. Listening to the rousing tracks that Classic FM were playing I began to get bored watching the traffic weave backwards and forwards between all three motorway lanes. I reached into the foot well for my handbag and pulled out the book I brought along. I could feel James’s eyes boring into me. I opened the book where I left my marker and made a conscious effort to get back into it. I could have predicted it; I knew it would be his cue.

“You know, there’s an alternative to reading, Helen. You could actually talk to me.”

I kept my head down and buried in the book, though my eyes weren’t focused on the pages. Suddenly irritated at his intrusion, I snapped back.

“Well, you’ve shown no interest in starting a conversation up to now, James. Besides, I would prefer it if you kept your eyes on the road.”

“My eyes are on the fucking road, Helen. I don’t need to take my eyes off my driving to listen or to speak.” His reply was a barely disguised snarl.

“See what I mean? If this is the most interesting conversation we can have, griping and point scoring, well it’s best if we don’t bother, I think.”

I watched his hands grip tighter around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

“Fine! Have it your way. I’ll just drive in silence. As you were.”

I was bloody seething, biting the insides of my cheeks until they hurt and then my left foot started a nervous tapping which I knew would instantly rile him. I needed to get a grip. Just as I expected it to, this was turning into a nightmare already. If I didn’t calm myself down I wouldn’t be taking anything of use away from the bloody seminar. Without making a sound, I closed my eyes and practiced some deep breathing techniques for a couple of minutes. It took effect almost straight away and feeling my annoyance gradual fade, I read. I got engrossed and the time seemed to fly past. James didn’t utter another word. Before long, I became aware of the traffic getting busier. We were on the outskirts of Manchester.

Turning off the music system, he tapped a few buttons on his telephone and activated the satnav. He turned his head slightly in my direction.

“Nearly there. Another fifteen minutes or so.” He paused for a few seconds before adding, “I need a drink.”

Trying to be helpful, I offered him the unopened bottle of water which sat in the centre console.

“Not that sort of drink! We’ll need to eat soon anyway so I’ll be able to have a beer or two.”

“But I already told you, there is a bit of a finger buffet and drinks provided before it gets under way. We haven’t time to go off anywhere else.”

“I’m heading straight to the bar then. You suit yourself.”

Feeling his eyes burning into the side of my head, I turned away to gaze out of the side window. The weather outside had turned and it was drizzling. Within a few minutes, rain pelted down with a vengeance and the friendly female voice of the satnav lady was suddenly gone.

“FUCK IT!” I nearly shot through the roof of the car as James rapped his hand hard against the dashboard. “Fucking satellite signal’s gone. Pissing clouds!”

“Oh! Have you any idea how to get us there without it?” I asked tentatively, almost afraid to speak.

“Haven’t a fucking clue. God, I could have done without this. Time’s running out.”

Realising that my phone would likely be no use either, I decided to offer a suggestion to the predicament; the old-fashioned method.

“Do you have a road map? They usually have city maps in the section at the back. I could try to direct you.” I offered, tentatively.

“What good would that do me? I don’t know which streets are one-way, do I?”

“Fine! Just get us there, James. I’m done!”

My face flushed with anger and my hands started shaking. I closed the book, returned it to my handbag and watched all the pedestrians rushing around, hoods up or umbrellas held aloft as the deluge continued to fall. For another twenty or twenty five minutes I listened to his unrelenting expletives, excessive sighs and exasperated banging on the steering wheel. I didn’t dare tell him, in case he hadn’t noticed, that he had driven down the same street of retail outlets three times…or that the seminar would be starting in twelve minutes.

“Ah! Got it!” he shouted triumphantly. “It’s down this street.”

I was glad that I pre-booked the parking. At least we didn’t need to drive around searching. He easily located a vacant parking-space. Once parked he jumped out of the car, barking orders at me.

“Come on. We need to run. I’ll come grab the luggage later.”

We were the last to check in and as James gave our names to the person sitting at the door, my eyes scanned the conference room for a space. It already looked full and there were no seats available near to the front. Finished with the check-in lady, James offered me one of the shiny folders she’d given him, together with a lanyard attached to a delegate badge bearing my name. He pointed over my shoulder.

“Quick, Helen. There’s three seats together over there, second row from the back. On your right, look.”

My heart sank and I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Four hours with him in the bloody car and now I was stuck with sitting next to him again. Hurrying over to the row he pointed out, I plonked myself on the furthest of the three seats, dumped my handbag on the one immediately to my left, leaving James with no option but to take the aisle seat. I turned to face forward, but in my peripheral vision noticed his scowl, first at me and then at the offending handbag. Fortunately, he never got the chance to comment as the first speaker took the stage, offering her greetings before commencing the lecture – ‘Inheritance Tax – Important Changes.’

At three o’clock and with the first lecture out of the way, the speaker announced a refreshment break. James was on his feet ahead of me.

“Sit down, Helen. I’ll bring you a drink. Coffee…or tea?”

I sat back down.

“Thank you, James. I’ll have a coffee, please!”

I grabbed my phone out of my handbag with the intention of logging on. However, I watched as James joined the long queue at the refreshment table. The line moved slowly along for a minute and I noticed him tapping on the shoulder of the guy in front. The man spun around, his mouth and eyes opened wide as he clearly began to recognize James. Some serious back patting and hand shaking ensued as they talked away animatedly and laughed, with a little too much volume. People were turning to stare at them. I’d seen enough.

My attention was taken up by my phone vibrating and by the time I read and replied to a couple of texts from Simon, a cup of coffee was thrust into my hand.

“Thank you, James.” I looked up at him. “Who’s your friend?”

“Well, that’s what I was just about to tell you, Helen. That’s Chris Owens. He was a great friend of mine through our uni years. We started together and finished together.”

I glanced across to where the guy was about to take his seat a few rows back from the front of the stage. He was busy chatting amiably to a lady who occupied the seat adjacent to him. They were both smiling; laughing at times.

“Where’s he from?” I asked, in an attempt to show an interest.

“Bristol. He’s got his own practice now. Anyway, you can chat to him later. I’ve asked him to join us for dinner, since he’s also staying here.”

My jaw dropped in shock and desperately thinking of a way to back out, I decided to be honest about my intentions.

“Us? But I was going to watch a film and maybe order some room service.”

“Oh, come on, Helen. Don’t be unsociable. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to. Talk to Chris. He’s great fun and very entertaining. Better than shutting yourself up there in your room all alone, surely?”

I gave a heavy sigh without answering and sipped at my coffee. The next lecturer had already climbed the few steps to take the stage.

“Good! That’s decided then. You’ll enjoy yourself.”

The bloody nerve of him!

I made a valiant effort to show a little enthusiasm for the lecture, ‘Capital Gains Tax – Your Responsibilities’, yet in my head I was counting the hours until I would be back home. Chris Owens or not, I felt nauseous at the thought of sitting through a meal with, let alone an evening in James Mortimer’s company.

After a long and boring two hour session, the speaker finally left the stage. James turned to me with a sickly sweet smile.

“Right then. Are we heading to the bar for a couple?”

Somehow, I should have been prepared for it, especially after he never got the lunchtime beers he was desperate for.

“You go if that’s what you want to do. I’m heading to the swimming pool for half an hour before I get ready for dinner.”

“Swimming pool? You should have told me there was a pool, Helen. I could have joined you. Never mind. We’re meeting Chris outside the dining room at seven thirty. Make sure you’re there or else I’ll come looking for you.”

He walked off heading in the direction of the bar, no doubt for pre-dinner drinks with his uni friend, Chris. After fifty lengths of the pool I felt invigorated. The borderline headache I felt coming on as I left the conference room had almost disappeared. The gentle exercise had been calming and refreshing. I reluctantly admitted to myself that the time would pass much faster by going to eat with James, with the wonderful Chris in tow. Hopefully, it shouldn’t be too bad. I knew I would only brood in my room and probably end up not watching a film at all. I hoped Chris was going to be as entertaining as James portrayed him to be. I tried hard not to harbour any thoughts as to the contrary.

As things turned out my fears were groundless. When we met outside the restaurant, James introduced me to Chris as his co junior partner at the Hopkins Partnership. Watching him carefully throughout the evening, I took in every detail. He was positively charming throughout. Having only seen him from a distance in the queue for drinks earlier, I had thought his hair to be brown, but closer up it was more…not ginger but a rich auburn colour and his very dark eyes shone with a wicked and mischievous look about them. He was extremely charismatic. I couldn’t be sure why, but James was also being extremely polite…and funny too. It crossed my mind that perhaps he didn’t want to be outshone by his buddy, but hard as I tried to find fault I struggled to find anything amiss with James’s behaviour. He’d even shown himself to have impeccable manners.

When we moved from the restaurant into the lounge bar, James found us a comfortable and fairly private corner. When the pair of them came over with our drinks from the bar, James sat on my right hand side and Chris was on the opposite side of the table facing the two of us. It was amusing to listen to the banter between the two of them. Alongside my amusement, I was trying to get over the shell-shock of finally being able to see another side to Jim; his comical quality.

Halfway through the evening, James’s left arm gradually crept around the back of me, yet remained firmly on the wooden ledge; not touching. He maybe sensed that I’d assumed a more relaxed demeanour. The smile never left his face, especially on hearing my laughter at both his funny persona and Chris’s jokey ways. Though I remained a little suspicious of James, I was thoroughly enjoying even his company. I started to feel a little giddy as the clock ticked around to eleven.

The bar was staying open late but the three of us all agreed that, as the lectures would start at nine o’clock the following morning, we needed to get some sleep if we were to be up and ready for breakfast early enough. We set off to the lift and I struggled a little to keep my balance so pulled off my high-heeled sandals and carried them. The mix of gin and tonics and the wine with our meal had got the better of me. Chris left the lift on the third floor, bidding us a cheery ‘see you soon.’ The lift doors closed behind him and we set off again up to the fifth. As I tottered along ahead of him, James stayed close behind. We reached my door first and he caught me by the arm as I struggled with the key card.

“I’ve enjoyed your company tonight, Helen. It’s been nice to see you laughing and letting your hair down. Would you join me for a nightcap in my room? I’ll raid the minibar. Please say yes. It would just round the evening off beautifully.”

I felt incredibly drunk and giggled hysterically at his suggestion. His face swam in and out of focus and that too held me in some morbid fascination.

“Let…let me get this right, James. You want my company…mine? For a nightcap, right?”

I laughed out loud as my third attempt to insert the key card failed miserably.

“Yes. Just one little drink, Helen. Here…let me help you with that card.”

The door opened easily for him and I made to cross the threshold.

“Helen? What do you say?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there. Give me ten minutes. I’ll freshen up and…brush my teeth. I’ll be there. You’d best not be messing with me again, James.”

I screwed my eyes up in a drunken attempt to look menacing.

“I promise you. No messing about, Helen.”

I closed my door on him without saying another word.

Stumbling about the room for five or ten minutes, I started to wonder what the Hell I was doing. All I could remember was that I was supposed to be doing something; going somewhere. I filled the mini-kettle at the bathroom sink, returned to plug it back in and switched it on to boil. I felt the need to freshen up so headed back into the bathroom and stood there for five minutes, head bent low over the sink bringing handfuls of cold water up to my face. I slowly started to come round and caught my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were back in focus. Then it all came back to me, James invited me for a nightcap…quite some time ago.

I quickly brushed my teeth and freshened my make-up. I picked my sandals off the floor to put them on but ended up flinging them back down near the door. I wouldn’t need them just to walk next door to James’s room. It must have been half an hour since I told him I would be ten minutes. Maybe he would be asleep, but I hoped not. Memories of the evening came fresh into my mind. It was a long time since I’d been out in male company and I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself, it had been an excellent night. I would never have believed it. I made sure to remember the key card as I headed to the door. I tiptoed the five metre walk to his room and knocked ever so gently.

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COMING SOON: On Sunday, 19th October, our guest author is Karen Naylor, who is sharing an excerpt from Chapter 9 of her debut novel, 'Christmas Evie'.