Addicted to Witch (8 page)

Closing his eyes he envisioned Helena, looking like a fairy princess, hunting for rosemary. No. He wouldn’t allow this. There was no way he’d give her up. He’d had the briefest taste of freedom on Helena’s lips, and he wanted it all.

Now was not the right time to defy Romely’s curfew and get up to London. But he absolutely would. Find Helena and try to get around the impossibility of his situation. He had to.

Chapter Ten

Helena stared sightless at her computer screen. “Doctor?” her patient prompted.

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, at last typing the prescription. “Three times a day and keep the drops in the fridge. The infection should go in a few days but stick to glasses for a week until the treatment is complete. Okay?”

“You seem a million miles away.”

I kind of am. “I’m fine—just thinking of having a take-away for dinner.”

The patient looked put out. “Well, thank you.”

As the patient closed the door, Helena dropped her head onto her hands. What was wrong with her? She knew the answer to that—it was all tied up with that scruffy, blond-haired musician. Good God, somewhere, Josh was laughing his head off and claiming it served her right.

With her body still tingling from Auden’s touch, she had walked into her sister’s room at the hotel and walked straight back out again. Ophelia was far too distracted with the ‘posh wanker’ Cameron to notice Helena’s manic pretend joy.

She feigned sleep on the train back while Cameron spent the journey trying to convince Ophelia they could have a relationship that exceeded arguing and “banging.”

Once Helena reached home, she burst into tears and hated herself for wasting them on a man she barely knew. She didn’t cry. Ever! Having sex with him had been a pretty big leap in the book of someone who had no real concept of promiscuity. Oh God, in public. Like a tramp. Again.

Sleeping next to him had been little short of a miracle, and that was where the obsession came from. She’d been at peace enough to fall asleep twice with him. It contradicted the idea that he was a cheating slut.

He deserved the slap. Actually, he deserved worse. No, if he really didn’t have a girlfriend, then he’d be a eunuch and that would be no fun for either of them. She pulled out a pen and paper and started a list, in the hope it would allow her to put things into perspective.

Things about Auden I’m unnaturally obsessed with:

1.    He probably has the most beautiful penis on earth.

2.    His abs.

3.    His hair.

4.    His eyes. The world is so much clearer when I look away from them.

5.    His tongue.

6.    How he can raise each eyebrow independently of the other.

7.    His voice—spoken and singing.

8.    How normal he seems. Compared to Josh anyway.

9.    His self-control—with me.

10.  His mouth.

11.  How he smiles.

12.  How smart he is. No one understands the Israel/Palestine conflict and their origins like he does. I don’t even know how we got on the topic but it was amazing to talk about it. It was like being back at university.

13.  How creative he is. He composes music.

14.  He is super self-sufficient.

15.  I can sleep when I’m with him. Really sleep.

16.  He understands me.

17.  Whether he could love me or not. Yes it’s been two days but I’m mostly there. Why can’t he be?

18.  Why did he sleep with me if he has a girlfriend? A pretty weird one at that. This is linked with 17. Endless circle of destruction.

19.  Why he didn’t try to stop me from leaving.

20.  If he would let me redesign the reception rooms for him. Or at least alphabetise those vinyls.

Maybe it was the shame of being caught half-naked mid-orgasm. Or that she really didn’t know Auden to have a proper hissy fit. She kept having daydreams were she’d throw her neck around, demanding a real explanation. More it was that she missed him. Really missed him. She’d known him for two lousy days and she missed him. Moreover, it was bliss to be able to sleep. Shame to say it, but she felt safe with him in a way she never had before.
Sorry, Dad
. How else had she slept so well and through the night if she hadn’t?

She had his number. She could call him and see what the dillyo.
No Helena, take back a little self-respect. Leave him alone. There is your sign that you should not play with boys. You are bad with relationships. Bad. Bad. Terrible.
It had to be some sort of record. Being dumped by one’s boyfriend only to then get caught having sex with another woman’s man within days. Was there a Guinness World Record for that? World’s Dumbest Decisions?

A glance at the time told her she could go home, there were no more patients to be seen. She switched off the desk light and computer, and tugged on her coat. A take-away would be a great idea and she could stay up till all hours of the night by herself. Again.

Coming out of her room to the reception, her stomach jumped.

Slouched in a plastic seat that was straining under his weight, a dark grey hoodie over his head, was Auden. He got up when he saw her, lifting the hood from his hair. Not looking at all like the devil, he looked like an angel desperately sorry to be before the wrath of God.

“What are you doing here?” she asked on a whisper.

“Came to see you.”

“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” she asked with a sneer that wasn’t even her, but hell, she was angry.

He looked strained. The effort he was putting into trying to speak reminded Helena of a seminar on stammers. What was so traumatising about having a girlfriend? He took a deep breath and said, “Look me up.”

“What difference will that make?”

“All the difference in the world.”

Helena turned back to the room and shrugged off her coat. “I don’t know why I’m giving you the time of day.”

“Because you know this whole situation doesn’t feel right,” he said, following her. “If you caught your boyfriend with his hands inside the jeans of another woman, would you be offering said woman a lift to the station?”

“A civilised human being would.”

“You wouldn’t,” he said with an assurance that would only come from his confidence in her. “You’d throw a fucking fit, Hells. And you’d expect your boyfriend to either start apologising, making excuses or at least giving some sort of explanation.”

“You had a chance, why didn’t you?”

“I can’t.” His voice was low and hurt.

“Really?”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Hells, look me up. Go on Google. Find me. You’ll understand.”

“This is ridiculous,” Helena said with a huff, as she switched her computer back on. “What on earth am I going to find?”

“Type in Auden Garceau and music.”

Why did that surname ring bells? She typed in the name and a whole list of links and images flashed up.
Singer/songwriter in overdose shame. Trustees take over fortune of legend’s son. The quiet recovery of talented songwriter Auden Garceau
.

Helena didn’t follow gossip magazines or trends, except her love for McQueen but that was it. So he was the son of some ancient rock star. Who cared? That would account for his blatant disrespect for women. As much as she wanted to read the articles in detail, it didn’t really resolve the current problem.

“Try Auden Garceau and girlfriend.”

“But—”

“Try it,” he insisted.

She did so, and images and photos emerged of Auden with models, presenters, actresses and, to Helena’s endless surprise, a photo of them at the retreat, laughing together at the bar.

“Do you see any pictures of that woman who came to my house?”

“No,” she said, confused. Scrolling through the pages of photographs of Auden, there wasn’t a single one with that brunette.

“There’s a picture of you.”

“Isn’t it the first time you’ve been out in—” She halted. Easy enough for there to be a picture of her with him from a single meeting, why wouldn’t there be any of him with his so-called girlfriend, who had been with him for years? “This doesn’t make any sense. What’s her name?”

“Dr. Romely Deans,” he answered.

Frowning, Helena typed in her name on the NHS website, searching her out. “She’s your GP and she’s claiming to have a sexual relationship with you? Why can’t you report her?”

He lifted his shoulders. “I’m a guy with addiction problems, who’s spent years in and out of therapy. She’s an upstanding citizen. Who are they going to believe?”

“Me,” Helena said firmly. “They’ll believe my dad too. Where’s your family in all this?”

“They can’t have anything to do with it,” he said, his hair falling into his face as he looked down at his trainered feet. “Goes with the territory.”

“Auden, what’s going on?” she asked, concern shaking her voice.

“I wish you hadn’t left,” he murmured, his mouth brushing over her forehead. He pulled back and cupped her face. “Come back to Kent with me and I’ll try to explain as much as I can.”

“I have a job! I can’t just pick up and leave.”

Auden leaned over and turned off her computer. He tucked her into her coat, and took her hand, leading her back into the reception area, tapping the glass for attention. “Dr. Sarpong just had some really bad news. She won’t be in tomorrow.”

Jenny took in Helena’s facial expression at a single glance. “I’ll…er…I’ll rearrange your appointments for you.”

Auden gave Jenny an apologetic smile before he half carried Helena out of the surgery.

“How’d you find me anyway?”

“You’re a doctor,” he replied as if she was a little bit thick. “You’re supposed to be easy to find.” He glanced up at the sky, looking nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said abruptly, cuddling her closer. “Just need to get back quick.”

“Why?”

He sighed again. “It’s fucking embarrassing, but I’ve got a curfew.”

Of course he does, he’s your dad’s client.
“Fast trains go from Kings Cross. We can get there by six. Will that work?”

“That will be awesome.”

She clutched his hand and they hurried across to catch the next bus to Kings Cross Station. Helena’s eyes kept connecting with his. All she really wanted to know was what prompted him to come running after her.

He bought their train tickets while Helena withdrew some money for her own peace of mind. Auden found her and handed over a carton of Ribena.

“How’d you know I like this?”

“I don’t know anyone who hates Ribena.” He gave her a soft kiss. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Yeah,” Helena winced, looking down at the straw. “About that. I recently broke up with someone because he didn’t trust me. It’s because I didn’t trust him with anything.”

“He wasn’t worthy of it,” Auden shrugged. Her eyes flicked up in surprise. “You’re still here. That tells me a lot about you and that someone. If I didn’t need to get back home, we could take a detour and I could rearrange his face.”

“No. Totally not necessary.” Josh would have a heart attack if he could see her now. Probably a brain haemorrhage if a man played knight in shining armour for her honour. It made her grin.

“Train platform is up, come on.” He again caught her by the hand and hurried along the platform to the first class carriage and hustled her inside. She sat at a table by the window seat and rested her bag on the seat next to her. Auden took the hint and sat in front of her instead.

“You need to start talking, because I am doing something mad here.”

“I don’t know where it comes from either.” He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

“What?”

“That feeling that I know you.”

“We had quite a lot of sex over the space of twelve hours. I’d feel like I’d know you, too.”

He smiled. “No, it’s not that. Although that did help.”

She wanted to feel the slightest bit of embarrassment but it had been wonderful to be with him. His fingers curled into her own. “Now what’s the deal with you and this woman? Dr. Deans?”

He closed his eyes again, his jaw working as if he were trying to push words past his lips and was unable to.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

He banged his fist on the table, releasing her hand to grip his hair. “Have you ever just trusted your instinct about anything, a person, an animal, even if you were scared?”

Her thoughts went instantly to the lion, which had been her giant teddy bear for a public nap. “Once.”

“I need for you to do that again. It’s the only way.”

“Auden, you can’t ask me to that. She stood there and said she was your girlfriend. And you didn’t say otherwise.”

His jaw locked, his eyes turning red from strain. She stared at him.
I should be able to do this. Diagnose what’s wrong with him, but it isn’t physical. The depression, it’s not bi-polar, I know that. It’s from his situation, not a condition. What’s really wrong with you?
She leaned forward and cupped his cheek.

“Look at me, please?”

Staring at those violet eyes, she mentally flipped through her medical knowledge, discarding theories. That did no good.
Spiritual causes then
, she commanded and the light of the action over Auden reflected briefly blue in her own eyes. “Curse,” she whispered. Auden’s eyes closed in relief, his hands finding her own. “She cursed you.”

“Do you believe in that sort of stuff?” he asked, desperation in his tone.

She gave a shrug. “I was born in a small village in Ghana. Believing in witchcraft can be par for the course. And that woman cast a spell. Why?”

He shook his head again. “Can’t.”

She circled the table and wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head under his chin. “I understand. We’ll get you back to the house. See what we can do from there.”

“Thank you.” His voice broke over the second word. She held him tighter, knowing just how much it meant to be simply believed.