Pearced (65 page)

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Authors: H Ryder

BOOK: Pearced
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“Your Brother asked me to dance,” I tell him quietly and calmly, impressed because I don’t feel either of those things, then it occurs to me this might be the longest conversation the two of us have had recently.  I shake the thought away like a pesky fly buzzing my head “I wouldn’t have met him at all if you’d have been here.”  I say in a soft voice that I don’t feel, I put my hand on his cheek, “but you needed to be somewhere else remember?” He winces. But this is my opportunity to tell him everything, it’s too important to hold it in. less said soonest mended? That's the key to a mental episode.

I'm suddenly hungry again.

I had decided not to confront him on the Jess issue, I don’t want to hear what happened, I just want his lips on mine, his hands on me, inside me. I lean into him my head raised. He leaves me hanging there yearning for him, waiting. I look at his face, confusion, dissipating anger, calming...love?  “I was telling an old friend goodbye Tharie,” he brushes a stray strand of hair from my face, “she's not in my life any-more.”

“She sent me photos of you two at the charity ball Daniel, she sent me an e-mail.” What have you got to say about that then, I almost vocalise?

Looking angry he bites back an outburst, instead he smiles at me to remind me how he feels about me. “I’ll deal with her, you won't hear from her again, she was never my girlfriend, but she has obviously been orchestrating a different impression, I see it now.” Thank goodness for that. Her hair is far too shiny to be anything but pure evil.  He clenches and unclenches his fists at his side, slides down onto the floor with me, his long legs sprawled out in front of him, his hip touching me, if this is all I’m getting I’ll take it. And I lay my hand on his leg.

“You won’t need to Daniel,” I tell him guiltily and happily, “I don’t think I’ll be hearing from her again!” Quietly triumphant, my slowly recharging body gains some of its momentum and I reach my body across the mile that just separated us and kiss him gently on his soft full lips.  Instantly he breaks out of a fog, his mask is gone, his expression clear and beautiful, my Daniel is back. He smiles intoxicating at me and my nerves shiver sweetly in expectation.

“Engaged eh?” He smirks at me, my obvious look of shock not brilliantly masked, I consider a deflection.  Nope, no getting out of this one.

“How mad is your Mum about that?” Not really caring, wonder why she said nothing earlier, coward.

“Mad as hell, tea?” He smiles and brushes my cheek with the back of his hand.

“OK” his smile thaws my dark side, not sure whether his agreed to marry me or find some tea, but I don’t care, either will do, for now.

“I love you Daniel” I whisper to him, “there’s only you who can make me feel so lost and found like this.” I bow my head remembering how I was feeling not an hour ago.

“I know” he lowers his gaze.

“You do?” Bloody hell, where's that tea?

“I need you Tharie.” He returns, “I am miserable without you, please, give me a chance to prove it.”  He looks sincere, “I’ll make mistakes, I'm not used to relationships.” I gasp, my feelings overwhelm me and I can hear the blood pumping through my head.

Leg-yield across the arena to H.

It’s hard to breathe, I choke and blood circulates through my veins and I feel every litre of it surging through me, I hear a roaring in my ears and I tremble to my knees, trying to get on my feet but failing.

Daniel is instantly kneeling beside me, cupping my chin in his hand, and kissing my fingers, making me feel safe and loved.  "I’m trying to tell you Daniel," I speak with a trembling soft voice, "that I’m in love with you."

He exhales and seems to tremble before me, lowering his head so our contact is broken.

“I know.” I can feel that's true.

Thinking, thinking, mulling my head is messy and noisy and I hold it between my hands.

Renvers from K to X, then turn on the forehand to the right, continue to A. Right?  Which way's that?

As Daniel lifts his head to look at me his expression is one of a softness I’ve never seen before, an intensity, it's like his whole self is calling out to me asking for help. I want to give to him, but I can't move a muscle. He stands finally, taking every ounce of effort, pulling me up with him, we cling to each other.

"Tharie," his soft deliberate tone stops my voices immediately, suddenly the whole universe is quiet for an instant, and all that exists is us two.  His words hit me between the eyes, "I
love
you too."

Visibly relieved Daniel sinks back to a slouch position like every ounce of energy has been drained from his body. He stands there vulnerable in his black skinny tux, trousers with a narrow shiny stripe down the leg from Burberry, which sit very low on his hips. The v of his abdominals clearly defined through his slim shirt, and the tightness of his muscular slim frame like a sculpture so very beautiful. I worship this man, and he is mine.

Exit at a sitting trot.

Daniel looks at me tilting his head a little to break the intensity of these moments, I smile at him.  “Did you say something about
tea
Daniel?” He laughs, a beautiful warming sound.

“Did you say something about an exit at C, sitting trot?” don't judge me.

“Silly boy, must be hearing things again.”

 

 

 

Chapter fifty-two, Friday
:
22ndnovember2013, a question

 

Sedated, I lean into him I have known such a short time, my initiation into his mind has been brief and intense and I know what ever happens to us now we're strong enough to deal with it together. Unless of course he starts listening to pop music, it
would
be all over then.

"
Live
with me?" I hear the words form and vocalise before my head can stop it, I shudder at the thought of him turning me down, I’ve never wanted to share my life with anyone like this, I’m a little scared and suddenly hope George and Harry will like him. We'd briefly said it before but that didn't count, we were in another country.  You know the rules about
that
I’m sure?

"Yes." Daniel says firmly, and I think I detect a little relief too. “
Yes
.” he takes my hand tightly indicating he's sure of what he's saying.  I suddenly remember something, and break eye contact with him.  I reach into my clutch bag and pull out a small velvet pouch, black with an envelope flap. I hand it to Daniel, “Happy Birthday baby.” I tell him.

...and the moonbeams kiss the sea...

A look of surprise and wonder, crosses his face and I wonder if anyone has ever given him anything his whole life?  No I decide, they're all takers.

He opens the flap and tips out a fine linked gold chain into his hand, with three items hanging from it: an engraved gold disc, a narrow platinum band with a tiny black diamond set in, and a door key swinging merrily on the chain as he holds it up to the chandelier. He looks at me warmly. “I had it engraved the moment we got back from Peru, I wanted to give you something, so when you wear it you remember how much I love you.” I turn the disc over in his palm so he can read the inscription.

‘Love Tx’ it's not romantic I’d agree, but I mean it.

“I
love
you Tharie, I desperately need you to know that.” He moves closer lifting the chain over his head, “I have nothing if I don’t have you.” he's right about that, he doesn't even have a cat.

I suddenly realised why Daniel needs success and power so badly, because controlled as he obviously is, he is desperate to be understood, his many layers peeled off like an onion and nobody sees that.  They just see the man, Daniel Pearse, businessman, high flyer,
and dater of exotic beautiful women, a-list friends, wealthy and intangible.  Swept away in an overwhelming feeling of love for this man I ask him, “Marry me?” I whisper. So quietly only I can barely hear, my heartbeat flutters wildly and my hands shake. Daniel looks into my eyes, forever, silently, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Tharie,” he begins.

And once again we both sink to the floor, gravity unable to keep us upright, that's right Newton (the
physicist
not the assistant, just to be clear.  Though
he
may also have a theory about gravity, I have no way of knowing).  I'm falling forever, I long for Daniel to say something, anything.  My insides free fall, fast like dropping hundreds of miles in turbulence, I’m unsteady and my head swims with a light nausea like a jet lag, waiting for a response.  I know Daniel is closed off he doesn't let anyone in just like me, but between us I believe there could be an amazing relationship. Both of us fucked up and dealing with it in the best way we can. Pretending everything is OK and putting on an act of confidence.

Two peas in a pod my Grandma would have said, she was the wisest person I’d ever known, able to break down the most complex worries into a simple thought, I miss her. I place my hand on the tiny gold chain around my neck remembering, it was hers.

His fingers graze my jawline tilting my head up toward his mouth, and he kisses me so tenderly I am moved by the gesture, and the calming effect it has on me.

"When you look at me my brain stops in its tracks,” his gaze moves from one eye on my face to the other. “My breath shallows,” he's making sure I’m listening.  “My pupils dilate.” He gently cups my chin, “it's like my whole being is readying itself for an important event, and in that moment there's just us two.” He kisses my eyelids, “the world could fall apart around me and I would still be planted to the spot.” He smiles a great happy wonderful gut tingling smile.  “Looking into your eyes.” I kiss him gently, “what have you done to me?" He whispers. “Yes baby.”  This may be the most he has ever said to me, or anyone.

We sit in a heap of black layers of tulle and long legs, holding each other, he straps his arms tightly around my waist pulling our bodies close and holding me steady, it feels like he'll never let go. Holds me until all the anger and anxiety escape us both and all that’s left is the two of us.

We heave ourselves upright, holding hands. Bless.

We can hear someone approaching on the stairs, their timing is terrible.

“There you are
Daniel
,” his Mother comes around the corner, ignoring the shattered bodies getting up off the floor, routing around in her clutch for a lipstick,  behaving like it's completely normal, callous to think she could be so insensitive,  failing to recognise an intimate conversation going on.  But she just behaves like it's an ordinary event. This family are very different from mine.

“Come, there's people I need you to meet Daniel” and pirouetting on her Jimmy Choo heels, speeds off down the stairs in a waft of purple Saint Laurent and, Chanel no.9.

“Hungry?” Daniel asks me.

“Starving.” there's a truly international buffet downstairs.

“Let's get out of here and find a pizza.” nice.

“You really know how to treat a girl Daniel” true story.

“You're worth it baby.” Good.

“Well, we'd better find a classy place, my dress will take up at
least
two chairs.”

“I know just the place.” I hope he means
his
place?

I smile through a ravaged face of wet tear soaked cheeks and red bulging eyes, my make-up has stayed put, she said it was good stuff and waterproof, just in case Daniel turned up with someone else on his arm, must remember to give Pete a giant hug.

Daniel gets slowly to his feet, this has taken it out of him too, he looks tired but the sparkle of life and happiness I see in his eyes and the smile on his face are beautiful to me.

And he is all mine.

Sliding the ring I bought him onto his ring finger for all to see. I brush my hands over my skirts to straighten them, we kiss softly, and he takes my hand, gently this time, and we head back downstairs. A pizza is promised, but there's one thing we want to do before we go.

“Dance?” He asks me.

“It's what the dress is designed for” and off we go.

 

 

 

 

Chapter fifty-three, Tuesday
:
2nddecember – idol

 

The polished gleaming golden eagle idol sits in its glass fronted case on view for a limited time only, in Professor Cummings museum.  Before its tour of Europe prior to returning to Peru where it's believed it originated, it's to be displayed here in London. The craftsmanship is unmistakably Incan but there are doubters, it does have an unusual handwriting.  An arguably undefinable style that could suggest another provenance, many experts have gazed upon its little crouched glistening form and are unable to decide categorically, because they are unable to agree.  Worse still any suggestion of a mixed origin, but happily that's not my job.

Just peering into the clear glass box lit in halogen to make the surface sparkle and all the fine etched or carved detail stand out. It's beautiful, wherever it was designed and poured, and its story spans the centuries, the little card placed at its feet guesses a birthday and origin and a short paragraph explaining its discovery.

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