Mine To Lose Page 9

  ‘How ironic,’ I thought just as I came back to the waking world after hearing Jordan’s voice.

  ‘I’m fine. Just a bad dream. What?’ I frowned and pouted, making myself as cute as I could. It worked. Jordan fluffed up my hair and smiled.

  ‘You’re so sexy,’ he said. ‘Look, we’re here!’

  I unfolded from my slouched position to sit up straight and see where ‘here’ was. Jordan’s face, although sweet and friendly, gave me chills now after what he had just done in my dream. And the worst thing was that I couldn’t even tell him.

  We were in Folkestone. Heading towards the sign to the Eurotunnel.

  ‘Oh, my God! Have I died and gone to heaven? France.’ I marvelled as I realised where we were going.

  Jordan laughed dryly. ‘Don’t say things like that. Please.’ He was very pedantic about death jokes. I never knew why and was never curious enough to ask, so I left it at that. ‘But you’re right. We’re going to Paris for the weekend. Told you you’d like the surprise.’

  In front of us, cars started stopping, causing a long tailback as cars were let off the train.

  ‘Seriously, you’re the best husband a woman could have,’ I said, leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. ‘Oh, crap. I didn’t pack,’ I said, suddenly realising I was going to be in the city with only the clothes I had on my back.

  ‘I thought of everything. Your case is in the back. My mum told me what you’d need.’

  I inwardly cringed at the thought of Martha planning anything for me. Still, I wasn’t about to sour the mood.

  ‘That was very kind of her.’

  ‘That’s what I told her. Now sit back and relax. In a few hours, we’ll be dining in the most romantic city in the world.’

  My stomach tingled from the excitement of being in the UK one minute and at the drop of a hat being whisked off to Paris. This was the very reason Jordan and I originally decided not to have children, but instead, share our love for travel and adventure. A baby was still in my plans, of course, but for now, I was going to savour our free sense of exploration. I even thought about dropping little baby hints over the next couple of days.

  ‘Is your phone still switched off?’ I asked out of curiosity.

  ‘Why?’ he asked, taking my hand in his.

  ‘Just wondering,’ I said. ‘I was just hoping we wouldn’t be interrupted, that’s all.’ With all my might, I managed to refrain from saying ‘by your mother.’

  Jordan laughed. ‘No one’s going to disturb us babykins. This weekend, it’s just you and me!’

  After checking into a stylish boutique hotel, I was surprised to find my suitcase was filled with all the things I would have brought myself if I’d have packed. Maybe Martha had uncovered a thought of kindness at the last minute. That thought was soon dismissed. At the bottom of the case, tucked in with my underwear, was my box of contraceptives. Yes, she remembered to pack everything alright. I couldn’t help wondering if Martha really was a witch and had somehow sensed my change of thoughts about having a baby. Just put her out of your mind and enjoy yourself, I reprimanded myself.

  Our bedroom had a direct view of the Eiffel tower, and the first thing Jordan did was draw the curtains back and fling the windows open.

  ‘Now this is the life isn’t it?’ Jordan said, gesturing to the view as if he had built the city himself.

  ‘It most definitely is,’ I said, laying down on the bed and slowly removing my clothes. Jordan didn’t need to second guess my intentions. He was naked before I was. As he made love to me, I glanced out of the window. My life was perfect. Magical even. Why couldn’t this just be enough?

  ***

  Later that evening, we arrived at Perrier’s, a Michelin star restaurant I had read about in Dining Out Magazine, only the week before. It was a place I had dreamed about visiting. Jordan took hold of my hand as we walked up the path towards the glass-fronted restaurant.

  Great isn’t it? Jordan asked as we entered.

  I nodded in agreement as I took in the stylish interior with its massive chandeliers that dangled from the high ceilings like glittering diamonds. The maître greeted us like old friends and led us to our table that overlooked the River Seine. I was sipping on a glass of champagne and reading my menu when I heard Jordan’s low level groan. Looking up, I followed his gaze to see what was causing his disdain. An attractive man and a young woman dressed elegantly in a pink channel suit sat down at a table few feet away holding a baby.

  ‘Great, this is all we need. A screaming baby,’ Jordan said under his breath.

  I turned away from the couple quietly engaging their child with baby talk. ‘The baby looks content enough,’

  ‘Yeah, give it a few minutes, and it’ll be wailing its head off.’

  ‘Be fair Jordan. It must be a nice treat for them ...’

  ‘Yes for them! Not for people like me that are paying an arm and a leg to eat here in peace.’

  ‘They’re paying as well. And like I said, if you hadn’t seen them, you wouldn’t even know a baby was present.’

  ‘Well, I do now.’

  The waiter appeared at our table. ‘Are you read to order, sir?’

  ‘No, I’m fucking not.’ Jordan’s face turned crimson, and he pushed back his chair and threw his napkin on the table. ‘I thought I was coming to a high-class restaurant. Not a fucking crèche.’

  The waiter looked flabbergasted, and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Other diners stopped to stare at the commotion.

  Before I could protest, Jordan pulled me to my feet and guided me out of the restaurant. Once outside I rounded on him. I was furious. ‘What the hell was that about. Do you know how embarrassing that was?’

  ‘Embarrassing? Is all you care about what other people think? Don’t you think you should be more worried about my evening being spoilt?’

  ‘Spoilt? But how? Nobody was troubling you.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it. Come on, we’ll get room service at the hotel. At least we won’t be disturbed by any little parasites there.’

  ‘Parasites! Have you heard yourself? You’re speaking like a madman.’

  ‘Are you coming?’ he said, turning away from me and starting down the tree lined street. As I struggled to keep up with him, I saw my dreams of motherhood fading further away. If he couldn’t bear to be in the same room with a stranger’s baby, what chance was there of him tolerating one of our own?

  ***

  Jordan had barely spoken a word to me when we arrived back at our hotel. We ordered room service and ate in silence. The fury inside me had slowly dissipated, and if it meant swallowing my pride just to get through the next couple of days, that’s what I would have to do. It was Paris, after all.

  I suggested we use the hotel spa and have a sauna and swim. Reluctantly, he agreed. I think it was more down to not wanting to be alone with me in our hotel room than extending an olive branch.

  Two hours later, and we were back in our room, and I had the old Jordan back.

  ‘I can’t wait to explore this city tomorrow,’ he said taking off his shirt as he stood looking out the window. ‘We can go to the Louvre first and then ...’

  ‘That’s what I love about you.’

  ‘What?’ he said grinning as he turned to face me.

  ‘Your enthusiasm for life.’

  ‘As opposed to being a miserable old bastard who wants to do nothing but sit on the sofa scoffing my face like a pig at a trough. No thanks. Seen too many fathers waste their lives away doing that.’

  ‘And is that what you think parenting is? Wasting life?’ I don’t even know why I asked him that question, seeing as I hadn’t thought about the incident in the restaurant again.

  Just for a second, his eyes glimmered with uncertainty as if he knew what I was building up to.

  He fired the question back at me. ‘Why, don’t you?’

  In my mind’s eye, I saw Pam encouraging me from the sidelines to tell him the truth. ‘I … I don’t k
now.’

  ‘You don’t know? What? You think it’s right to become a slave to parenthood? Sleepless nights, no money, no freedom? To bring an innocent soul into the world to suffer because two people don’t know what to do with their lives?’

  ‘But what about unconditional love, Jordan? Surely that stands for something?’

  He looked at me as if I had two heads. ‘You are kidding, right? Do you know how many people actually hate their parents? Who find them a burden, especially when they become older. What’s unconditional about that?’

  ‘You don’t hate your mum, do you?’ I retorted. ‘And you don’t find her a burden?’ But I bloody do!

  His eyes rolled back, and his alluring lips curled into a smile. I could see that he was searching for the right response, and he cleared his throat before he spoke. ‘No, I don’t, Katie, but she isn’t like most mothers.’

  Finally, we could agree on something when it came to Martha.

  ‘No, you’re right she isn’t,’ I said light-heartedly.

  ‘Anyway, why are we wasting our time talking about this. Children don’t have a part of our life. Let the people with slave mentalities keep breeding them into a system that will just chew them up and spit them out when they’re no longer useful.’

  He crossed the room and leaned forward to kiss me. He hesitated for a moment, searching my eyes with his. ‘You feel the same, right Katie?’

  I was at a loss what to say. If I disagreed with him, I was certain we’d be back in Oxford in the blink of an eye. Then what? I’d be walking around on eggshells for God knows how long. So for the sake of my sanity, I said, ‘Of course I do, Jordan.’

  ‘Good.’ His eyes unfroze, and that emotional spell broke visibly, to my relief. For the rest of the evening, we drank wine in front of the window while we made plans for the following day. Bar the child issue, it was great to just be alone with him.

  It was the first time in a long few months that both Jordan and I were truly together, away from home. No work calls or mothers-in-law interfered for once, and thankfully no more visits to the hospitals. Jordan was more than cheerful the next day, and I put all thoughts of babies on hold in the back of my heart while I enjoyed our rekindled passion and joviality.

  That was important. That trust and comfort with one another were pivotal for what was to come out in the open eventually.

  Chapter 19

  I was sitting in my office filling Pam in on the events that took place over the weekend. For some reason, I held back the incident in the restaurant. As a mother of two adult children herself, I didn’t want her looking at Jordan in a bad light. I didn’t mind telling her about the day to day moans and gripes I had with him as she shared the same with me about her husband, Stanley. But there was something different about how he had acted that night. If I weren’t trying my hardest to keep looking at our marriage through rose tinted glasses, red flags would have been raised. I knew the signs, but I suppose I just didn’t want to see them. A tap on the door put a momentary halt to our conversation.

  ‘Carol’s brother’s here,’ Martin said, poking his head in.

  Pam closed the file on her desk and rose to her feet. ‘I’ll make myself scarce. You can see him in here.’

  ‘Thanks, Pam.’

  ‘I’ll bring him through,’ Martin said.

  Once alone, I straightened my desk and pulled out a chair for Carol’s brother to sit on. It was only then I realised I didn’t even know his name.

  The door opened, and Martin entered first followed by a tall, slender man. A lump lodged itself in my throat. He was the spitting image of Carol, only the male version. Blond hair, sculptured features and kind eyes. He must have noticed my reaction because as he held out his hand to shake mine, he said, ‘Carol and I are … were twins,’ he quickly corrected himself.

  He lowered his eyes to the ground but not before I saw the tears welling in them.

  ‘Thanks, Martin,’ I said, indicating for him to leave. I didn’t want the poor man to feel as if he had an audience at what must have been a very emotional time for him.

  ‘Please sit down …’

  ‘Carl,’ he filled in for me.

  He sat down, and I followed suit. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, his voice tight with emotion. ‘Carol spoke highly of you. She said you helped her a lot.’

  I frowned. ‘I thought ...’

  ‘No, she didn’t tell me what was happening to her. Not in person anyway.’ His hand moved to his pocket, and he withdrew a phone with a pink case. I immediately recognised it as Carol’s. I had to blink away the tears that threatened to fall as I remembered the circumstances in which I’d last held it.

  ‘It’s all in here. She left a video stating everything that … that…’ He dropped his head.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ was all I could say. ‘I really am Carl. But I can’t talk to you about Carol’s case. I wish I could, but I can’t.’

  Carl cleared his throat. ‘No, I know. I didn’t come here to get confirmation. I have all the evidence I need. I came here to ask your advice before I went ahead with something.’

  ‘Absolutely anything,’ I said reassuringly. ‘Whatever you need.’ I was prepared to hear him talk about maybe starting a cause in Carol’s name, and if that was the case, I’d be more than willing to help. I’d even volunteer in my spare time to bring attention to her plight.

  ‘Have you seen the local paper today?’

  ‘No,’ I said, wondering if there had been a piece on Carol.

  He reached down into his bag and searched through it before placing the folded paper in front of me. I absent-mindedly picked up it up and opened it. It took a few seconds for me to realise what I was reading. I shook my head a few times to clear my vision. I couldn’t believe what was on the front page. MP for Oxford, James Wicker supports domestic violence online services.

  Is this some kind of sick joke? I felt as if my world had been turned upside down, and I was now living in the twilight zone. There he stood, tall and proud with a look of concern on his face as he was pictured with Theresa Mills. I was so angry, the paper shook in my hands. That son of a bitch!

  I barely heard Carl speaking to me due to the sound of blood pounding in my ears. ‘I want to make that bastard pay for what he did to my sister!’

  ‘Oh, my God,’ I muttered as I threw the paper on the table as if it had scorched me.

  ‘Not even he could help her.’ There was no malice in his voice, just weariness. The same weariness that had been in Carol’s when we first met.

  ‘I just don’t understand why she didn’t tell me what was happening to her. I’m her brother. I could have protected her.’ The tears flowed freely down his face now. ‘Somebody must have known that he was abusing her …’

  I braced myself. I wasn’t going to lie to him. ‘Yes, Carol was let down by the system. I tried, but my hands were tied.’

  ‘I wasn’t blaming you,’ he said quickly, wiping his tears with the back of his hands. ‘There’s only one person to blame, and that’s the animal who was responsible for Carol killing herself.’

  ‘Carl,’ I began tentatively. ‘What is it you intend to do?’

  ’I remained silent while he told me his plan of action. The weariness had been replaced with anger. ‘There’s an open discussion on domestic violence at midday. James is going to be presenting it. At that precise time, I’m going to email every news outlet in the country with …’ he winced as if the words caused him actual physical pain, ‘… the images and video on this phone. At the moment, my wife and several friends are preparing posts to send to social media accounts to all our followers.’

  ‘Where do I come into this?’

  ‘Before I do this, I wanted to make sure that if it comes out that Carol was coming here, it isn’t going to be a hindrance to this organisation.’

  ‘Even if it was, Carl, we can handle it.’

  ‘Good!’ Carl slapped his lap with his hand. ‘I’m going to make him pay. I swear if it’s the
last thing I do, I’ll make him pay.’

  ‘I’m glad. I don’t believe in angels, Carl, but you’re the closest damn thing I can think of.

  Chapter 20

  At dinner, Jordan and I watched the six o’clock news. I was on tenterhooks as I watched the timeline of the day’s drama unfold. James looked like a deer caught in the lights of an oncoming car as Carl’s message began to seep through to the media who were at the discussion. I smiled when I watched the room break into mayhem as his cruelty and abuse slowly came to light. By the end of the segment, I was on cloud nine. The man had been exposed, and he was finished. There were already calls for his resignation. It wouldn’t be long before the man wouldn’t be able to walk down the street without hiding his face in shame. I knew this story was going to dominate the news for a while to come yet, and I gave a silent salute to Carol before we sat down to eat at the table.

  At last, Carol had justice. If no one believed her when she was alive, they most certainly believed her now. I could finally put Carol’s memory to rest.

  ‘Everyone’s always complaining about technology and social media,’ Jordan said, before trying the seafood dish I’d bought from the Leamington Street deli. ‘But look what it enables people to do. Twenty years ago, he would have gotten away with it.’

  He’d already finished his, and he grabbed a handful of tempura battered squid from my plate.

  ‘Hey!’ I smiled, poking at his hand with my fork. Jordan laughed through his stuffed mouth and rubbed his hands together. The oiliness of the deep fried rings made his hands shiny and messy. ‘Get a cloth for that, Mr Winston. Please. This misbehaviour is unacceptable.’

  He stood up. ‘I’ll show you misbehaviour when we go to bed tonight.’

  ‘Ha!’ I exclaimed, digging into the mussels first, washing it down with some red wine.

  ‘Just make sure you wear that negligee I bought you in Paris. It should have a health warning on it considering the effect it has on me,’ Jordan said as he wiped his hands with the cloth.