Marrying Mr Write (Mr Write Trilogy) (6 page)

He smiles this time, not the
naughty grin that I was hoping for. For a moment I thought we were turning a corner but now he seems to be clamming up again. To my surprise, Jackson steps toward me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my back into his chest and nuzzling into my neck. I can’t help it as I start to cry, I’ve needed this closeness so desperately. He turns me around in his arms so that we’re chest to chest.

“Hey, don’t cry! I’m sorry that I’ve been
shit. This has been the worst month of my life Rosie. But we’re going to be fine I promise you, I’m here for you. I’m sorry that it took me so long!”

I smile up at him, tilting my head back so that I can look him in the eye and hoping that he’ll
kiss me. He does. It’s a gentle kiss but it’s so full of love that as his strong arms hold me closer I start to cry again, I’m not sad, I’m over the moon. He’s back.

“Mmm, Alvez that was delicious!”

Jackson stretches back in his chair and rubs his hands up and down his belly with a look of deep satisfaction on his face. He stands to take my plate from me,

“I’ll wash up, you go and get comfy!”

I make my way to the sofa, I am so tired and my leg is hurting today. I
know that I have been doing too much but I’m too stubborn to stop when I know I should.  I sit on the sofa and Jackson places a glass of water and my painkillers in my hands.

“You read my mind!” I smile up at him in shock that he knew I needed them,

“No babe, I read the clock. You should have had them an hour ago!” He gives me a look that screams
‘Don’t kid a kidder Alvez’
and makes his way back to the kitchen as I laugh and take my tablets.

Countryfile is on the telly and I can’t help but miss home. I’m certain I’d have fully recovered long before now with Mam and Dad’s cooking and the fresh country air. My mind drifts to memories of walking with Bruce at New Year and I
can’t help but wonder how two country bumpkins like Jackson and I are supposed to grow old in a big city, I just can’t see it.

Where will we walk on Sunday afternoons? Where will our kids go to school? Mam used to just walk Rafe and
me through the village to our friendly little school, will my kids need to be driven in London traffic or walked through smog and angry commuters?

As I think about it my hand comes to rest on my belly. I
know there’s nothing there but it’s an involuntary action. Will I ever be able to have children after what happened? I knew that I was pregnant and put myself and my baby at risk. I just don’t know if I’ll be punished for that somehow.

I can hear Jackson singing in the kitchen as he washes
and puts away the dishes and I can’t help smiling as I enjoy the normality that seems to have returned this evening. I want to stay awake so that we can cuddle on the sofa and watch the Sunday evening TV but my eyelids are heavy, and try as I might, I can’t stop them from closing.

I’m walking through a house. I don’t recognise it but it feels familiar, homely. There are pictures on the walls as I walk down the hallway but I can’t make out the faces, all I can focus on is the sound of Jackson’s laughter. Where is he?

I follow the sound and hear another laugh. It
’s the giggle of a small child and I smile, it’s one of the nicest sounds in the world. I call out, “Where are you?”

“Uh Oh…She’s coming!” I hear Jackson say in a playful voice and the child laughs and calls out,

“Mummy we’re here, we’re here!”

I run to find them and
I’m in the garden. Jackson is laughing as he twirls her around in the air. She is giggling,

“Again Daddy, again!”

I laugh as I run toward them,

“I’m here, I’m here!” I call out.

They stop and look at me, confused expressions on both of their faces as the little girl speaks,

“You’re not my Mummy!”

I sit bolt upright as I wake. I
t takes me a moment to realise that I was dreaming. I’m in bed. I don’t remember coming to bed and know that Jackson must have carried me here.

I am
sweating; the t-shirt of Jackson’s that I’m wearing is wet through. I don’t remember putting it on and can’t figure out how Jackson managed that without waking me, my painkillers must have wiped me out.

I try to get up quietly and make my way out of the bedroom withou
t waking Jackson. I lay my hands on my stick and there’s a lump in my throat as I realise that he thought far enough ahead to make sure it was within arm’s reach.

In the bathroom I peel off the
t-shirt and put on my dressing gown. I stand for a moment, taking in the reflection of a woman that I hardly recognise and I see another face, a little girl with black hair and hazel eyes.

“You’re not my Mummy!”

I shake away the image and make my way to the kitchen. I need a drink.

I know
I’m not going to be able to get back to sleep so I switch on the iPod dock, immediately turning it down so that it doesn’t wake Jackson. I fetch a glass of water from the kitchen and sit in the window seat at the front of the apartment.

I have no idea what time it is but the road below is quiet. Every now and then a car passes
and then it’s still again. The rain is pouring, hammering against the window as though the sky is crying the tears that I’m determined to hold back.

Suitcase
by Emeli Sandé starts to play. Her voice immediately soothes me but her words raise a lump in my throat that I can’t fight. I am terrified that once Jackson sees his baby he will leave. I saw the way he looked at the babies at the nursery in Thailand, he won’t be a part time dad, I’m sure of it. 

I cry silently as I listen, I can’t bear to watch him leave.

I wake up with a start, I thought I heard something. I turn to make sure that Rosie is ok but she isn’t there. The bed is cold.

I get up to go and see where she is. As I open the bedroo
m door I hear music and I follow it to the dining area where I find Rosie sitting in the window seat. Her knees are pulled up to her chest and her forehead is resting on them, she’s crying.

“Rosie, baby what’s wrong?” I sit next to her on the seat but she doesn’t look up, “Rosie, talk to me
,” it’s almost a whisper, I can’t bear this.

‘
These Arms of Mine’ by Otis Redding starts to play and I reach forward taking her hands,

“Dance with me Rosie.”

I feel her relax as I help her up to standing and pull her close to me so that I can support her. She wraps her arms around my back and looks up into my eyes. The soft glow from the street lamps outside highlights the tears in Rosie’s eyes and it breaks my heart. I lean down to kiss her and she runs her hand up the back of my neck and into my hair.

I inhale deeply as my heart beats faster. I love this girl so much.

‘Halo’ by Beyoncé starts to play and I pull Rosie close.

In one swift move I pick her up and sit her on the dining table. She allows me to stand between her thighs and I rest my forehead against hers. I need her.

“Kiss me Jackson, please.” There is desperation in her voice and I know she needs me just as much.

I kiss her intensely and she runs her hands down my back and up my abs to my chest. He
r breathing hitches and I feel so hungry for her. Rosie wraps her legs around my waist to pull me close and I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. I need to make love to her.

I stand Rosie up at the end of the bed and push her dressing gown off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as I lean down to kiss her collar bone and then her neck. I hear her gasp slightly as I kiss below her ear and stroke my hands up the back of her neck and into her hair, pulling her into my kiss.

As
‘I Won’t Give Up’ by Jason Mraz starts to play Rosie pushes away from me gently and moves to the bed, sitting on the edge and taking my hand, pulling me closer. She pulls my boxers down my legs and lies back as I step out of them and crawl up the bed, holding my body up above hers.

She opens her legs a little more and I settle between them. Her hands in my hair encourage me down into a kiss and I push forward. Slowly making my way inside her and she groans against my mouth.

I feel her relax more and I work into a slow rhythm. She grips my shoulders as the light and the soft music from the other room bathe the bedroom.

“I love you Rosie”

I kiss her smile and make love to the woman that I intend to spend the rest of my life with. I’m in for the long haul.

I’m not aware of what song is playing, only that I feel blissfully happy. Jackson and I have never made love like we just did and I’ve never felt so close to him.

I
’m lying in his arms with my cheek against his chest and I can hear his heart beating under his skin. I can almost hear my name in its rhythm.

“We should get some sleep
honey; we’ve got lots to do tomorrow.” Jackson speaks as he strokes my hair and I’m happily aware that I actually have absolutely no plans for the next week.

“Have we? I don’t think I have
,” I say sleepily in between planting soft kisses on his chest,

“Yes baby, we have packing and shopping to do. We’re going
away!”

I lift my head to look at Jackson, I’m confused.

“What? Where to?” My heart is beating faster now; the thought of being away from here just me and Jackson is almost too much.

“To the L
akes my beautiful girl just me and you. No phones, no internet. Nobody but us!”

He smiles and I’m thankful that he didn’t spoil the mood by saying her name. I know he means that we’ll be happily away from
Sasha but I don’t need him to spell it out.

“Stop grinning at me like that and get
some sleep!”

H
e laughs as he rolls me over onto my back and kisses me. With him on top of me like this, sleep is the last thing on my mind and I wriggle into him. He groans and laughs under his breath as he rolls back to his side of the bed.

“Bad girl Alvez...
Sleep!”

This morning has passed in a flash. I’m so tired after last night but thankfully it didn’t hit me until we’d finished getting our stuff ready for our trip.

We started with a trip to the supermarket to st
ock up on supplies for the week. Once we get there, we don’t want to have to go into town for anything so we’re loading up the car with food and drink.

We started sorting out our clothes once we were back at the apartment, only for Jackson to tell me that he was appalled by my lack of suitable ‘
outdoor’
clothes, and drag me out to Snow & Rock in Covent Garden for some waterproofs and walking boots. I tried to get out of it by playing the
‘cripple’
card but he just insisted that when I get tired, he’ll give me a piggy back. I know full well that he will too!

“I hope you’re not planning on using up all your energy with walking Mr James, we have catching up to do!”

Jackson laughs as he stirs the Bolognese sauce that he’s making and then turns to me, lifting me easily to sit on the counter top before placing his hand
s firmly on my thighs and pushing them apart to stand between them,

“Not just walking Alvez, there’ll be fishing too and maybe some climbing!”

He laughs as I pretend to fall asleep and when I open my eyes again he looks into them with so much desire that he definitely gets my full attention,

“I
will always have the energy to make you scream Alvez!”

The drive to Coniston takes
just under five hours. Jackson won’t let me share the driving in case my leg starts acting up so I have nothing to do but lean back and read.

I must have drifted o
ff as I soon wake up, leaning sideways into the passenger seat. Jackson doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve woken up and I’m able to just enjoy the sight of him. He is driving skilfully, checking his mirrors and indicating as he quickly and smoothly overtakes, but the best thing is that he’s singing. The window is down as he enjoys the summer day and sings along to ‘Last Request’ by Paolo Nutini, my heart beats for him and I smile as I imagine spending a life just like this, just us.

By the time we arrive,  I have stiffened up and have to wait while Jackson collects the keys and opens the front door to the cottage, before coming back to help me out of the car.

“Do NOT carry me over that threshold James! That can wait until we’re married and it’s our own home!” He laughs as he teases before putting me down and letting me walk in on my own two feet.

The cottage is exactly what I wanted it to be, rustic on the outside and a mix of contemporary and country chic inside. It’s cosy and welcoming, the open fire in the living room
has been stocked with logs ready for us and I feel at peace.