Matilda Wren (12 page)

They didn’t speak any more. Both were wrapped up in their own insecure thoughts. Sean tried to make a conscious effort to concentrate on the road ahead and Rachel pretended to read her book. It only took about five minutes to drive over to Shenfield High Street.

Sean swung into the taxi bay that was at the small entrance of the railway station. They weren’t that far from Rachel’s flat.

It was a busy Saturday afternoon and the taxis were in and out in a constant stream; dropping off and picking up the hundreds of commuters and shoppers. Sean got out of the car without a word and headed towards the small wooden shack that served as the cab office. Rachel watched him disappear inside. A knock on the windscreen made her jump.

Expecting to see one of the drivers wanting her to move the car, she was surprised to see a friend standing there, grinning into the glass. Smiling, she opened the car door to get out.

“Nathan!” Rachel exclaimed, obviously pleased to see him.“Watcha kid. Thought that was you. How you doing? It’s been a while.”

Rachel let the older boy take her into his arms and give her a tight squeeze. She smelt the familiar scent of him. It was a smel that took her back to being young and to a time where her childhood was actual y quite settled and happy.

Nathan was the son of one of her mother’s many boyfriends. This one however, had stuck around for a few years, both families attempting to take a shot at normality and stability.

For a while it worked, but Nathan’s dad was a bigger alcoholic than Rachel’s mum was and after two years, her mum said enough was enough and kicked them both out. At the time, Rachel was devastated and she had often thought about Nathan and his dad.

He had been the closest thing she had ever had to an older brother and he had looked out for her like one too; even though he was actual y only a few months older than her he had always acted like she was the baby. She couldn’t believe that he was standing right in front of her now.

When he final y let her go, he couldn’t stop grinning at her. “How’s ya mum, she doing okay?”

“Oh you know mum. Same old. How is your dad?”

The grin disappeared from Nathans face and sadness emerged in his eyes. “Dad died a few years back. His liver final y gave up, I guess.”

“Oh Nate, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He smiled at her again, but she could see it was stil a painful memory for him. They had been close, Nathan and his dad and Rachel knew it must have knocked him for six when he died.

Now she looked closer at the boy, she could see his clothes were crumpled from lack of ironing and he sported a few days growth on his face. His skin had a grey tinge to it and he was constantly fidgeting with his fingers.

Before she could ask him anything else, she noticed the look that crept across Nathan’s face and then she felt Sean’s arm around her back.

“What you doing out the car?” Sean’s low voice had an ominous undertone to it.

Rachel observed the cold stare that he was giving Nathan. She didn’t like it. An odd, disturbing feeling begun to escalate within her chest.

“I wasn’t aware I had to stay in the car.” She retorted back curtly.

The hostile response was not lost on Sean and he told himself to keep calm. His eyes did a quick survey of the station and taxi rank. They were not noticed, inconspicuous to the busy activity of a Saturday afternoon.

He pushed Rachel quite firmly behind him and stepped towards Nathan, who in return very quickly backed off a few paces.

Sean willed himself to remain calm but he could feel the rage that was racing through his blood intensify. He made a conscious effort to keep his arms by his side, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hands in an attempt to keep his control.

“Jog the fuck on.” He sneered at him. His whole face screwed up in complete repulsion.

Nathan didn’t need to be told twice and he scurried away like a gerbil that had been put back in his cage.

Rachel grabbed hold of Sean, her eyes flared in temper and indignation. “We were just talking.”

“I didn’t like it.”

He was husky and importunate; his shoving of her backwards, past the car, amplified that bubbling disturbance around her chest.

She let out a small gasp, when the wall she stumbled against broke his force. She looked into Sean’s eyes, seeing the urgency and wanting he had for her. Her whole body felt like it was pounding in time with her heartbeat. She felt his grip on her loosen and the concern that he hurt her was written all over his face. She held onto him tighter.

She couldn’t breathe. Something was overriding her every sense.

He felt it too. She was driving him crazy just looking at him. To be so close to her and not just take her was the hardest thing he had ever done. Sean fought every instinctual drive he had not to kiss her and rove her body with his hands. The more her eyes bored into his, the harder it became to resist.

He knew she was mentally begging him to give in, but he also knew that if he did, he would possess her for the rest of her life; because once he had her completely, he knew he could never let her go.

Rachel’s head was swimming. Everything around her was cloudy and insignificant. It was all getting too fervent and obsessive. The voice in the back of her head, which had started off as a slow quiet warning, rising every now and then only to be stifled and pushed away, was now screaming at a crescendo.

“It shouldn’t be like this, it shouldn’t be so intense.” She whispered.

Sean heard the croakiness in her voice and stroked the outline of her face. She had never wanted to be kissed, yet not be kissed in her whole life. The conflicting thoughts and feelings adding to her dizziness.

“I knew him. I’ve known him since I was little. He is almost family.” Rachel protested; her indignation somewhat overzealous.

“I don’t like you talking to anyone, especially junked up shit like that. I can’t stand anybody else having your attention if only for a second.”

She moved her hands up to cover her face. She couldn’t think straight. The possessiveness he had over her should have been enough to jolt her into getting as far away from him as she could, but in all honesty, she secretly cherished it. Nobody had ever made her feel as important as he did.

Her every instinct was tingling with desire, longing for him to fight the persistent voice in her head, which still screamed at her to run.

He knew that he had to let her go. He knew that she knew it to. He would ruin her life if she stayed, he was only too aware of that. For the first time in his entire existence, he felt the sting of tears well up in his eyes. He had never had to let anything go before and it was hard. So much harder than he had ever thought.

Sean had always taken what he wanted, but he knew he couldn’t have Rachel. She was too pure and unsullied to be anywhere near him. He was actually humbled that she had spent any time with him at all.

“It’s over… isn’t it?” Sean said, freeing his grip on her completely, to pull away her hands from her face.

Rachel closed her eyes and let two tears roll down her cheeks. “I think it has to be.”

She put her hand up to wipe the tears away and when she opened her eyes, she knew he wouldn’t be there, that he had already gone.

The regret set in about ten seconds later.

Chapter 8

January 2000

Rachel pulled the bud of marijuana apart with her fi ngers; the oily residue layering her skin. The smell of fresh nettles wafted up her nose and she stifl ed a sneeze. Pressing it into one half of the plastic grinder and fi tting the other half on top, she begun to twist it back and forth; crushing the contents into a soft fl uff y mound that always reminded her of moss covered stones.

Emptying it into a small plastic pot, she began her morning ritual of rolling a joint to go with her cup of tea in bed, before Adam would come bounding in, wanting to play and have his breakfast. At almost three years old, he was the most perfect thing she had ever done.

Taking a Rizla out of its packet, she embarked on ripping open a cigarette and interspersed the tobacco and ground weed on the fl imsy paper. With an experienced hand, she rolled it into a perfect cone.

She smoked a lot of weed; she would be the first to admit that. But since she had made the decision to keep her baby, she hadn’t touched any other drug of any kind.

She even stopped smoking while she was pregnant. She was determined to be a good mum and believed she was.

Adam had every educational toy there was to buy; she limited his television viewing, made sure he got plenty of fresh air, attended every postnatal appointment and had just enrolled him in a playgroup near where she lived. She smoked weed but she loved her child to the ends of the earth.

Her home in Brentwood was clean, albeit messy; she liked to think of it as ‘lived in’ and her child was happy, secure and loved. It was in a new housing block that was just a few roads behind the high street. Compared to the damp bedsit in Shenfield, which Social Services had dumped her in a few years ago, she thought she had done okay.

She believed that as long as Adam was well looked after, she was doing a good job. She didn’t drink; she hardly ever went out anymore. She lived for her child, so in her eyes she could warrant her cannabis use.

Her bedroom was surprisingly spacious, relative to the rest of the small two-bedroom flat. The walls were a pale yellow, painted on top of woodchip wallpaper. The bed frame, dresser and wardrobe had all been stained in white, giving the room a sense of harmonic stillness. Only the red love hearts, which stamped a border around the top of the walls and the blush red of the duvet set, disrupted the tranquil ambience.

Lighting the joint, Rachel leaned back against the headboard, as she inhaled the smoke deep into her lungs.

She looked down at the sleeping body next to her. She would have to wake him soon and get him out. The last thing she wanted was a three year old asking awkward questions, as to why there was a man in mummy’s bed.

Children have a funny way of calling things how they are, they learn tact and subtlety much later and Adam was getting more astute by the day. It was fine when he was a baby and unaware of who was around him but trying to hide things from a very inquisitive toddler was a different ball game altogether.

The sleeping man stirred slightly. As she watched him, she thought about the previous night. How he had gone all out to impress her, turning up with flowers, wine, a Chinese take-away and some sweets for Adam, which were put in the cupboard out of the boy’s sight and reach. He made her laugh while they ate and paid her compliments throughout the evening.

She knew she should have made him leave when it had got late, but she liked this man. He was kind and he looked at her with complete adoration. Normally this was around the time she would stop things going any further. Since Adam had arrived, she hadn’t let herself become attached to any other man.

As soon as anybody begun to get vaguely serious about her she would stop it dead. She wasn’t interested in any kind of significant relationship. She convinced herself that, if she just focused on bringing up Adam and providing for his needs, she wouldn’t have time to let her mind think about what she had banished four years ago.

It had worked to some extent. If she kept her mind occupied, then she could go a good few hours without thinking about it; about him. So relationships were not part of the plan. She wasn’t any good at them. Sean and James had both shown her that. But this one was different.

She enjoyed being in his company. She felt at ease with him and they always found they had something to say to each other. It felt natural.

This was a new experience for her and she wasn’t too sure how to handle it. Forming relationships, of any kind, had always been a struggle for Rachel. It’s what happens when you grow up in care. Her mother was an alcoholic and had spent Rachel’s childhood in and out of various rehab clinics.

She never knew her father, so as a result Rachel had spent a lot of her teenage years with different foster families.

Just as she had begun to feel a little settled with one, her mother would decide she was sober again and request her back. Then, after a few months, her mother would resolve to no longer being able to face the world without a drink and hand her daughter back over to the care of social services.

This went on for as long as Rachel could remember. It was a familiar pattern and was probably why Rachel never felt comfortable with anything that was too permanent.

Sex was carefree and abundant. It was something she used to escape the trials of life but men seemed to want more, the ones she had come across did anyhow. So she would conclude the affiliation between them and move on.

She didn’t see any point in continuing, as they would never be able to take away the longing that sat around her heart.

But the sleeping man, he had turned her head. He hadn’t pestered her in a puppy dog way. He had very much left it all up to her. He didn’t call; he waited till she got in touch. He didn’t sit on her every word or try to impress her with declarations. He looked at her in a way that bore into her soul; it was like he knew she was fighting some inner struggle, which he didn’t push her to reveal.