Saving from Monkeys (29 page)

I would've thought this speech would make Elliot relax, but he stayed just as stone-like, even as Jonah and Abi awarded me a little ripple of applause. Maybe he just needed some time for that to sink in, the way I'd needed some time to realise it.

Giving him the space to put his head round my change of heart, I threw out,
"Also, Samantha said you're infatuated with me."

I could imagine that other guys would've found this more off-putting than my other comments. Not Elliot, however. I felt the tension leave his body and he pulled me in closer against him as he asked, "Yeah? And what did you say?"

"That I'm sorry she doesn't get to sleep with you anymore."

He laughed; deep, sexy and in all ways yummy. "I'm sure she appreciated the apology."

There was a lull then for a little while; Abi and Jonah, Elliot and I all nauseatingly coupled up and just enjoying the quiet companionship. Before too long, however, Elliot dropped his head down and I felt his lips teasing the spot where my neck met my shoulder. I closed my eyes at the sensation, but flicked them open again as he murmured against me, "Why do girls always smell so good?"

I smirked. "We wash," I replied obviously.

"No, there's something else," he insisted, pulling back slightly. "Some innate...something."

"Hmm?"
I twisted round to look at him. "And how many guys have you been sniffing to make this comparative analysis?"

He rolled his eyes and lifted his hands up in surrender. "I give up. See if I ever try complimenting you again."

"You didn't compliment me!" I protested. "You asked how girls, girls in plural and general, smell good. Frankly, you make it sound like you've been nosing up to every girl you come across."

"Every girl I come across?" He repeated in disbelief.
"
Seriously
? I can barely handle you, and you think there's
others
?"

I let out a little exclamation of indignation and thumped his leg with my fist. "Excuse me?" I asked shrilly. "I wasn't aware I was being '
handled'
."

I felt, rather than heard his little laugh as he said lowly, "That's not what you said last night."

"Oh my God, get a room!" Abi's voice cut across our moment and both Elliot and I raised our heads to look across at her in astonishment.

"Hang about,
you're
telling
us
to get a room?" I choked out. "Mr and Mrs PDA over there?"

"We've never been that bad," my best friend protested and I clutched at Elliot's arm, blown away by just how incorrect that statement was.

"That first night I kissed Elliot I only went round to his place because I was too scared to go home as I knew you two would be going at it," I pointed out. "I was fairly confident I still didn't like him at that stage, but being with him was still preferable to spending time around the pair of you!"

"Think you've successfully managed to insult all three of us there, Rox-honey," Elliot commented mildly.

"Oh, just go and have sex already," Jonah interjected as Abi pursed her lips…although, knowing my friend as I did, I was fairly sure she was only doing it to hide her smirk.

"If we do," I said hotly, "we'll do it because
we
want to, not because
you've
told us to."

Because we were having possibly the stupidest argument the world had ever seen there was a bit of a pause after this. Elliot broke it by asking quietly,
"
Do
you want to?"

I considered this and then replied, as haughtily as I could under the circumstances, "Yes."

"Right then." Elliot set aside his bottle with a clink, and then stood and pulled me up in the same motion. I let out a little shriek as, in the next second, he set his shoulder to my stomach and lifted me up so I was slung, fireman-style, over his shoulder.

"'Scuse us, guys," he said, sketching a quick salute to Abi and Jonah with the hand not holding me steady. "We're off to have sex because we want to."

I waved goodbye to our friends over Elliot's shoulder as we left, and I think I was probably happier in that moment than I'd ever been before.

----------

"This sucks." Elliot groaned and threw himself back against his pillows.

"This is your future," Rox corrected him obnoxiously. With her eyes still fixed on her textbook she absently picked up his notes and smacked them into his stomach. "So get studying."

He groaned again. Midyear exams. What a crock.

He rolled his head round and watched Rox scan a page of her book almost hungrily, jotting down notes in the margin and occasionally closing her eyes to repeat something to
herself.

She was absolutely mental, he decided. She actually seemed to be
enjoying
going over her stuff, while he was about ready to stab himself in the eye with his pen just for the distraction.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his degree - just as well as he was teaching it to the first years - but when it came down to memorising specific dates and analysing sources…well, he just didn't give a root. In his opinion, whether the Napoleonic Wars started in 1802 or 1803 didn't make the slightest bit of
difference, unfortunately, he knew the exam markers probably weren't going to be as
laissez faire
.

It didn't help either that Rox had spent the night with him and was still wearing the flimsy tank top and cotton shorts she'd slept in. Each time she leant forward her top gaped and put paid to any possibility of him keeping his eyes on his notes.

Unable to stop himself, he went to reach for her, but found that she'd pre-empted his move and slapped a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"No," she said firmly, still refusing to
so much as glance up from her book. "We wasted three quarters of an hour last time you did that."

His eyebrows shot up. "
Wasted
?" He repeated incredulously.

"Enjoyed, whatever."

Great, not even a month into their relationship and he was being cock-blocked by exams.

Still, he couldn't help but notice that Rox hadn't removed her hand from him and, in fact, she'd started to absentmindedly massage the muscle just behind his shoulder. After being hunched over his laptop and books for the past couple of days it felt amazing and he hummed his approval low in his throat.

Bending his head down, he kissed her hand and reached up to lightly trace the thin blue veins in her wrist.

He heard her give a little sigh and knew he'd scored a momentary advantage over her textbook. He also knew it wouldn't last, so he took the opportunity to lean over and brush her mouth with his.

She rolled her eyes and shot him a look that said she knew exactly what he was doing, but then her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed back against him. They kissed languidly, knowing it wasn't leading anywhere as Rox hadn't factored 'impromptu sex' into her study schedule, so just enjoying it for what it was.

As Elliot shifted closer to her, however, he knocked the open book she'd been poring over and it started to slide off the edge of the bed.
Breaking the kiss, she made an automatic, clumsy grab for it, snatching her hand back almost immediately, however, with a cry of, "Monkeys!"

Her book hit the floorboards with a bang and she started to flap her hand in the air. As
he looked at her enquiringly she hissed, "Paper cut!"

He reached up, drawing her hand down and they both watched as the thin white line on her finger blossomed with blood.
"Nasty," he agreed, letting her go and jumping off the bed to grab her a bandaid from the bathroom.

As he rummaged in the cupboard under his sink he could still hear her muttering, "Monkeys, monkeys, monkeys," to herself and he smiled.

"You really need saving from monkeys, you know," he called back into the main room. "A paper cut like that deserves a proper 'fucking fuck that hurts'."

He finally found the bandaids and it was as he was straightening back up that he realised there was an ominous silence pulsing from the other room.

"Rox?" He called as he kicked the cupboard shut. "You haven't bled out, have you?"

"
What did you say
?"

Her voice was a thready sort of whisper and he only heard it because he'd been listening out for her.
For the briefest moment he was confused, and then realisation hit him like a fierce slap to the face.

His heart gave a massive, painful thump and then seemed to stop altogether. Suddenly needing to steady himself, he leant a hand against the wall and dropped his head down.

"Fucking fuck that hurts?" He could barely force the words past his tightening throat and he needn't have bothered as Rox answered almost immediately,

"Before that."

He pressed his forehead to the cool plaster next to his hand and it took everything in him to repeat quietly, "You need saving from monkeys."

There was another silence, this one, if possible, more absolute and horrifying than the one before.

Like a condemned man, he compelled his legs to move and he rounded the bathroom door to see Rox kneeling on the rumpled covers of his bed. Her face was pale apart from two blazing circles of colour high on her cheeks.

"Oh my God…" she choked wh
en she saw him."I know what happened."

Chapter 17
– The Truth and Nothing but the Truth

Three Months Ago…

"OK, I'm off." Abi grabbed up her bag and headed towards the door. "I'm on the close shift, so I'll probably see you tomorrow. Enjoy your super secret special alone time."

Sprawled across my bed in the super secret special alone time uniform of tracky dacks and comfy tank top (definitely no bra allowed) I grinned at Abi.
"I shall. Enjoy your awful, busy, on your feet, serving others time."

She grimaced and then the door was closing behind her and I was alone.

Ah the blessed peace!

I loved Abi, I really did, but
sometimes you needed a break even from awesome, and the nights when my roommate was out, and I had no plans, were cherished.

I stretched, wiggling my toes contentedly, and looked at the little pile of books next to me on the bed. It was a heady mix of my favourite textbooks and novels and sure to see me through the evening in the most pleasant way possible.

There was one problem, however, a problem that revealed itself as I leant over to open the little fridge and saw that, for possibly the first time since I’d moved into my accommodation, there was no chocolate to be seen. I was the Mother Hubbard of the chocolate world! My drawer was bare! How was I supposed to have super secret special alone time without chocolate?

Unfortunately, leaving my room to go seek some cocoa goodness wasn't an option. Outside my door was a massive residential hall teeming with people who were just waiting to demand I get dressed and go drinking with them. Seriously, it was like a scene out of a peer pressure video out there 24/7.
I didn't have any particular problem with getting drunk, but this was super secret special alone time, not drinking time.

Except…I started brushing aside the salad bags in various stages of wilting (Abi and I always had the best of intentions with salad
, intentions that never seemed to result in us actually ever eating any). Once our failed attempts at being healthy were cleared away, I saw what I was after; a four-pack of chocolate vodka mudslides that I'd been given by a girl in one of my tutes. They'd been a thank you for helping her with some of the coursework and she'd informed me that they were her favourites. After considering that her attraction to heavily sugared, surprisingly alcoholic, drinks was probably part of the reason she wasn't doing too well in her classes, I'd thanked her, tucked them away at the back of the fridge, and there they'd stayed.

Abi hated milk based alcoholic drinks, saying they made her gag, and I was a bit wary of them for being a grown up thing masquerading as a kid thing. To my mind they
’d seemed a bit creepy. Now, however…

I pulled a bottle out and had a look at the alcohol content.
OK then,
definitely
alcoholic, but then I wasn't planning on going anywhere, I was having super secret special alone time, and I really did want that chocolate hit...

Grabbing up the pack, I headed back to my bed, settled myself down and cracked open some vodka chocolate goodness to go with my economic sequential reciprocity. As it turned out, they went surprisingly well together. So well together, in fact, that when I finished one bottle, I just moved straight on to the next.
The afternoon faded into evening and I was toe-wiggling happy as the vodka merrily meandered its way through my blood stream.

I was just finishing my third mudslide, and beginning to find the noise the pages of my textbook made when flicked increasingly entertaining, when I heard a sudden commotion outside my door.

Stopping to listen, I recognised Kira and Kara's voices and gave an involuntary shudder.

Kira and Kara lived down the hall and Abi and I tried to avoid them at all costs. It was these two that had driven us to promising each other in first year that we wouldn't fall in love at uni. The two K's spent so much time running up and down the corridor shrieking about how much in love they were
that they'd completely turned Abi and I off the idea.

They didn't sound in love this
time, though, in fact one of them (I could never tell them apart, so I couldn't be more specific) sounded decidedly upset. It wasn't my business, and the point of super secret special alone time was to ignore everybody else, so I tried to focus back on my book and take no notice of the wailing.

Unfortunately, I wasn't a particularly tolerant person when something interrupted my study time, and the addition of alcohol didn't seem to do anything to improve that. I was able to put up with their nonsense for all of about two seconds before it became 'mosquito buzzing near your ear' annoying. And I
really
hated mosquitoes.

Maybe it was the leg jiggling, vodka chocolately buzz that prompted me along, but I found myself bouncing off my bed once more and heading to the door to see what all the fuss was about.
Pulling the door open with a flourish, I came face to face with a startled Kira and Kara who were standing just outside.

"What's going on?" I asked, looking from Kira/Kara's tear-stained face to Kara/Kira's solemn one. Kira/Kara was holding a crumpled piece of paper, while Kara/Kira, randomly, was holding a clump of foil packaged condoms.

These girls had never really struck me as the type to need much prompting to unload their every single thought or problem out into the world and they did nothing to dissuade me of that appraisal.

"They've put the rent up again!"
Howled Kira/Kara, slumping back against the wall dramatically. "I don't know why I'm surprised, every bloody semester they do it, but I don't think I can afford it this time."

"Oh no," I said lamely, immediately wishing I'd just stayed inside. Usually the drama with these two was that Kira/Kara's gel nail had cracked or Kara/Kira's boyfriend had said
some celebrity looked hotter than her, but this was a genuine problem.

I was having my super secret special alone time, I didn't want to deal with genuine problems!
To this end, I'd started to back away inside my room when Kara/Kira asked frankly, "What about you? Isn't this going to screw you over too? Or are you scholarship kids taken care of?"

"I'm not on a scholarship," I answered honestly and both sets of heavily made up eyes narrowed.

"So how are
you
affording it?" Kira/Kara demanded and I shrugged awkwardly.

"My mum has some savings..." I mumbled, finding myself suddenly and strangely ashamed of the fact.

"Lucky," Kara/Kira said bitterly, putting an arm around Kira/Kara and starting to lead her off towards their room. She stopped almost immediately though and leant back to thrust a few of the condoms towards me.

"Oh, here, they were giving these out downstairs."
She looked me over, presumably taking in my less than salubrious attire and then she shrugged, "Better safe than sorry, I guess."

"Uh...thanks." I accepted the offering and shoved them in my pocket.

Feeling thoroughly discomfited by the whole exchange, I shut my door and stood staring at the cheap plywood blankly for a few moments.
That
had been an entirely foreign experience for me. To have people jealous of the financial security of
my
family? It was proper twilight zone sort of stuff.

Where before the alcohol had whizzed through my system making everything seem brighter, it now seemed to be having the opposite effect and my mind became dim and cloudy. My brain didn't seem to be functioning properly, but my gut instinct was obviously working just fine and I realised I was sick to my stomach...and not just from the mudslides.
My brain sheepishly joined the party a couple of moments later and started to whir.

When Mum had told me that she’
d the savings to be able to pay for my accommodation at uni, I'd been over the moon,
ecstatic
, but there'd also been a small part of me that had muttered 'um...
how
?' I hated that little voice because, essentially, it was encouraging me to distrust my mum, but I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe it was the voice of reason.

When M
um had then asked me to butt out of the money stuff it hadn't been a wishy washy sort of request. Even coasting on the mudslides, I could remember her words clearly, 'I know you like to take control of this stuff, Rox, but I'm asking you to have faith in me. Let me do this for you and don't get involved.'

I'd been across the household accounts since I was about
9, so this had been no small ask. It'd always reassured me to know where we were with our bills; had helped me sleep at night when we were on top of them and kept me up when we weren't. Still, when Mum had clearly worked so hard to save for me (even if it
had
originally been for my wedding) and then asked me to trust her, how could I have said no?

So every time when uni costs had been talked about with my friends I'd kept quiet, and when I talked to my mum we avoided the subject until it'd become such an automatic taboo that I'd almost managed to make myself stop thinking about it.
Almost
...

With that one brief co
nversation with the K's, the block in my mind had been shattered and all the doubts came flooding back in. If the costs had been increasing every semester, as Kira/Kara had said, had my mum's savings been able to keep up? I couldn't be sure and, suddenly, I really needed to be...

Maybe if I'd been sober, or Abi had been there to talk me down, I wouldn't have done it, but I wasn't, and she wasn't, so I did.

Grabbing Abi's laptop off her bed, I opened it up and quickly tapped in the password, silently thanking Abi, as I always did, for the generous and unqualified access she'd offered me to her computer.

Bobbling about with impatience, I waited for the start up nonsense to do its thing, and then brought up the internet and typed in the address for my mum's email provider. My mum was a bit of a technophobe and I'd been the one to set up this account and password for her back in the day so this part didn't bother me too much. I felt a sort of ownership over
her emails that pushed my knowledge of privacy laws to the back of my mind.

My mum wasn't the sort to change her password, I doubt she even knew how, so her inbox loaded up without hesitation. I had absolutely no interest in the vast majority of her mail, and my eyes skimmed down, looking for one message in particular.
I found it near the bottom of the inbox. Confirmation of internet banking set up.

The painful squiggly feeling in my stomach intensified now I'd moved beyond the sort of access mum had freely given me. I moved quickly, as if speed would lessen the guilt. It didn't.

The message from mum's bank advised of the client number to enter at the online banking site, but not the password, which she had presumably set up over the phone. Copying the number in the email, I brought up her bank's site and pasted it in the right section of the log in page. Then I sat there and looked at the blank password box.

As my first attempt I typed in her email password. It bounced back as invalid.
Oh well, at least my mum had some small grasp of internet security...not that it helped me right at that moment.

Angry red writing informed me that I only had two more tries left before I was kicked off the system and I pulled at my bottom lip with my teeth as I considered my next attempt.
Hacking looked so much more glamorous on TV; there was always some cool twist to the password; a riddle to solve, or the name of the CEO's illegitimate daughter who he was secretly hiding in an Italian monastery. My hacking was absolutely nothing like that. Instead, I took a stab in the dark and put in my mum's middle name. No dice, and I only had one try left.

In a way this was a relief. Even pretty tipsy and desperate for some answers I recognised what I was doing as a moment of madness and having one try left sort of felt like fate's way of sorting it out. If my next try wasn't right the system would kick me off and
, hopefully by the time it would allow me back on, I'd be sober and over it.

With a deep breath, and a gulp of my fourth mudslide, I threw out my last guess.
My name and year of birth. The page loaded up instantly. Well, OK then, gut-wrenching guilt aside and here we go...

There were two accounts linked from the homepage, mum's day to day one, and the savings account conveniently named 'Savings Account'. I ignored the first, pretending I didn't notice how low the balance was, and clicked for the details of the second.

There wasn't much activity in this account, as you'd expect, which is why it only took about two seconds for my gaze to fall on the line of data that forced a low, keening sort of groan out of me. Exactly one month before I'd started uni two and a half years ago, there was a deposit. It was a large deposit. It had been transferred from Elliot P Sinclair's account.

I swayed on my bed, and gripped the covers in my fists to steady myself.

Elliot Sinclair
?

As in t
he guy who'd spent his formative years swimming in his big pool of glorious money whilst I'd slogged along next to him in the marsh of borderline poverty? What in the name of all the monkeys in the zoo was
that
about?