Freeing Alex (15 page)

I place my hand on top of his. “That’s settled then. I’ve
thought a lot about it, about the R8 and about how I hate driving around this
place. Anyway, I want you to sell your Vauxhall, you can have the Audi. Okay?” 

“The Audi! You’re joking, that thing’s worth a small
fortune!” I’m sure he nearly chokes at my suggestion.

“So, are you not worth it?” I place my napkin on the table
and stand as Anna returns from the loo.

“I don’t know? Am I?” He starts to stand.

“Oh yes – very much so!” I tease, placing my hand on his
cheek. “You’re worth much, much more,” I whisper. “Anyway, I’ll ring this
agency on Monday. Today we’re going to buy another car. Will you come with me
once you’ve dropped Katie back here?”

He looks surprised. “What are you going to buy?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I haven’t got a clue. A Jaguar? To be
frank, I don’t care as long as it’s got seats in the back and can fit me, Anna
and one or two others in. What would you buy?”

“You could have a Range Rover.” He looks towards Anna, who’s
hurrying back from the ladies.

“Too big, and I don’t want a Chelsea Tractor, anyway!” I
could never, ever understand the appeal of a Range Rover in town. They’re okay
if you live where I used to live, in rural and semi-rural locations, but quite
frankly I’ve always found them too big when placed in an inner-city
environment.

“Okay, so not a four-wheel drive,” he relents, hands held
up.

“Not likely,” Anna pipes up, “and anyway, there’s no mud in
London, at least I’ve not seen any, and we don’t drag a horse around!”

“No, that’s a good point. How much mud have you seen in
London? And the only horses in the city centre are either police or the
Queen’s!” I back Anna up.

James holds his hands up again defensively, two girls onto
him now! Does he know what he’s letting himself in for? “Okay, okay, you both
win, no Range Rover. So how about a Bentley or maybe a Mercedes?” he asks.

“Lewis had a Mercedes once, one of the little ones – a C
Class, I think?” I can’t remember. “It looked like a box on wheels anyway!”

“Could have been. There’s a C Class but I was thinking more
along the lines of something bigger, maybe an S class.” He smiles.

“Oh, I’ve seen those. They’re nice, aren’t they?” I muse.

I really am terrible with cars, the
Top Gear
boys
would have such fun with me, they’d probably see me as some sort of heathen,
knowing as little as I do about cars. I can just imagine Jeremy Clarkson taking
the mickey out of me: “
And here comes Alex Drake, pootling along in her Audi
R8, of course, it’s useless because she’s the most frightened driver in the
wooorld!”

“Is there anything
you
need to do today?” I ask
James.

“I’ve a couple of apartments lined up to view but no
appointments set yet, and I need to move quickly,” he mutters.

“Why’s that?”

“’cause I was asked to leave last night, one of the reasons
I didn’t make it back. Matey’s lady is expecting their first baby, lucky so and
so.” He laughs. “He’s moved her in with him, no sofa, no spare bed available
any more.” He sounds dejected.

“Oh James, I’m sorry. You can always stay at mine tonight.
You know I’ve lots of spare rooms. Or here, there must be some rooms spare?” I
suggest.

“If I could stay at yours, just until I get myself sorted,
that would be excellent. You know I don’t like to stay here, I like to go home,
when I’ve got one. Look, I need to get Anna home and her stuff collected, come
back here and then off to Euston, we need to hurry.” He places a hand on my
shoulder. “I’ll be back here for you at eleven thirty-ish to drop Anna off
before I pick Katie up.”

He winks at me and guides Anna to the front of the hotel.
The doorman signals a cab for them and they’re gone. After yesterday’s
incident
I’m starting to feel safe again and I
am
in public, and whilst I have
James’s reassurance that Lewis can’t get into the hotel without being seen, at
the back of my mind the thought just seems to lurk there. Despite what he said
about Lewis not being here, I just don’t feel comfortable walking around on my
own, especially along the corridors, but maybe I’m just being paranoid? I need
to be strong.

Whilst I wait for Anna to come back I take the opportunity
to telephone Maggie’s – no, 
my
business partner at Henry’s. I’ve never
met the man but have spoken to him briefly on the phone. Looking up his number,
I hit the call button. It goes straight to voicemail so I leave a message.
Within minutes he calls me back.

“Hi Nial, how are you?” I can tell by the fuzzy connection
that he’s probably driving.

“I’m fine, Alexandra. What can I do for you?” He sounds like
a robot, the connection is terrible.

“My daughter and her friend want to go clubbing this
evening, their first time out in London on their own, and I’d rather them be
somewhere decent, somewhere that will at least look out for them at little bit
– not babysit, just keep an eye open. Can you arrange that for me, please?”

“Of course, but when am I going to see you?” His voice
crackles, he’s using a hands-free.

“Oh, I don’t know. I want to come along and meet you. We’ll
have to set a date at some point. Listen, my daughter is Anna and her friend is
Katie. They’re both eighteen but I worry about them, they’re not used to the
big city. Anna asked me about the VIP area?”

“I’ll arrange it. They’ll have an
excellent
time.
Tell Anna to ask for Clive when she arrives, he works on the covered VIP
entrance. I’ll brief him, tell him who they are, he’ll make sure they’re looked
after.”

“I’ll do that, and thank you, Nial, it really is
appreciated. Thank you.” I’m so pleased that I’ve managed to arrange this for
Anna and Katie.

The reception is terrible, I have to listen so carefully.
“You’re welcome, Alexandra, and please let’s get together before too long!”

“Yes, we must, and please don’t call me Alexandra, it’s
Alex, and thank you again.”

“Talk soon,” he says as I hang up.

As I wait, I look for Roger. He’s not there and I feel
embarrassed talking to the other guy I’ve not yet been introduced to – Thomas,
I think his name is – so I wander over to reception, taking the opportunity to
confirm that the room Anna has will be available for her and Katie for the next
few days.

I pass the time of day with Monica, who now appears to have
a new attitude, we actually get along quite well after our initial meeting.
She’s told me a little about her job here at Reid’s, how long she’s been here,
and that she really likes it. Then I wander around the foyer, taking in the
luxury of the place. The public areas are in keeping with the rest of the
hotel: it’s sheer and total luxury with sofas and chairs that are so deep and
plump you feel like you’re sinking into them. It’s also very calming.

I pick up a magazine from one of the tables and sit in a
comfy soft leather sofa. Flicking through the pages, I’m engrossed in reading
about some celebrity who is also divorcing her husband, the trials and stresses
that are associated with the life-changing event that divorce is. Even though
it’s high profile and by its very nature potentially more stressful than my
own, it all seems so amicable. Why can’t Lewis just go away and leave me alone?

As I read I’m unaware of someone standing behind me. “Hello,
Alex.” 

I jump, startled. I know that voice instantly,
the
bastard.
I turn around and I’m faced with the image that constantly haunts
me, over and over again, the bastard’s ugly, fat red face. “Lewis, what are you
doing here?” I gasp.

“I’ve come to see my
wife
, to see if I can talk some
sense into her!” he hisses, leaning forward over me.

“Talk some sense into me, what the hell are you on about?”
I’m frightened, I think it shows and I’m sure I flush.

“Alex, do we really need to divorce? I mean, the marriage
wasn’t that broken, was it?” His tone changes, his voice becoming soft.

He’s delusional if he thinks it wasn’t broken, the guy’s a
nutcase.
I’ve
had panic attacks, episodes, but with very good reason –
I’m probably suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder – but
this guy, well, he’s just off the rails! I stand, facing him.

“Lewis, if you need to speak with me, please go through your
solicitor, that’s what they’re being paid for. And anyway, what are you doing
in London?” I try to stay calm and be firm, willing new, strong Alex to take
charge.

“I came to see you. I want you back!” he snaps.

He moves around to face me and sits in the sofa opposite me.
“Please come home, Alex, you don’t want all this.” He waves his hand around the
hotel.

“I beg your pardon? What do you mean, ‘I don’t want all
this’? What do
you
suggest I want, Lewis, because in twenty-two years
you never actually asked me what
I
want!” I raise my voice at him. I’m
scared to bloody death and would never have spoken like this to him in the
past, but I feel stronger, empowered, like something’s kicked in, making me
stand my ground against the bastard.

I stand to walk away but as I turn my back he grabs my arm
tightly. “Alex!” He raises his voice. “You’re coming home
now
!” He’s
loud and firm.

“Let. Go. Of. Me!” I look around, looking for someone,
anyone.
Someone please see what’s happening, anyone, please.
He’s a firm
grip of me, I can’t just shake it off. I look towards the security desk and see
Roger is back, but his head’s down looking at something on his desk, I need to
get his attention. Lewis still has hold of my arm, he’s gripping tight, he’s
going to bruise me, oh yes, I know just how hard he has to squeeze to leave his
finger marks on my skin. I look at Roger again but he’s still not looking, then
I glance at the reception, at Monica. I try to get her attention but a guest
steps up to the long counter just in front of her, blocking my view. I look
around. Is there anything I can do to get Roger’s attention?

All of the time Lewis is holding onto me, trying to pull me,
to steer me towards the main door, but I stand my ground, pulling back against
him.

“You’re a little conniving bitch, Alex. You’ve got all this
cash, cash that I want, but no, you’re going to keep it all to yourself. You
haven’t got a fucking clue how to handle this kind of money, Alex, you couldn’t
even manage to feed the three of us with the money I gave you, you’re useless.
What the hell was your dear Aunt Maggie thinking about when she left it all to
you? You’ll lose the lot!” He’s snarling at me, his face is becoming redder.

“NO, LEWIS!” I shout, in a last attempt to get Roger’s
attention. “YOU would blow the lot on your women, I know about your trollops, I
know what you got up to when you were away! Well, Lewis, you go back to them
and see how far you get with them ironing your shirts – TWICE!” I’m shouting
now, but still no-one seems to hear or see, or help.

He raises his hand and slaps me straight across the face,
hard. The sting is instant, intense burning across my cheek.

“BIG MISTAKE!” I yell as the tears start to fall. People in
the foyer are just standing, looking, but no-one comes to help. They’ve just
witnessed a big man slap a woman across the face and they’ve all done nothing,
what’s wrong with them? Why doesn’t anyone help? “FUCKING. BIG. MISTAKE. You
bastard!” I yell. He still has my arm, is still trying to drag me out of the
foyer.

Roger has seen or heard the commotion. He and Thomas run
across the foyer, jumping over the low coffee tables and knocking several vases
over as they hurtle towards us. Thomas grabs Lewis and pulls his arms behind
his back, rugby tackling him to the floor. It’s so quick and in the commotion I
don’t see everything. When I turn around I see Lewis face down, being held by
Thomas who is comparable in stature to Roger – big! The bastard’s struggling,
trying to get free, he’s cursing and calling me all the names under the sun.
Lewis is big but he’s not fit, it’s all fat and he’s no match for Thomas. Roger
pulls me well away from the scene.

“Are you okay, Mrs Drake?” He looks at my face, where the
blow struck. I’m starting to panic, oh no, not again, I can’t have today
written off as well. I think Roger can tell and he kneels down and takes me
with him – we’re kneeling on a rug at the edge of the commotion, sort of tucked
behind one of the sofas.

“Deep breaths. Come on, take your time. Breathe slowly and
deeply, that’s good.” He’s calm and talking to me quietly and gently. “Good,
that’s it.”

The concierge appears. “Anything I can do?”

“Call the police, please,” Roger says calmly. “Tell them to
make it snappy.”

 I try to look at what’s going on, I think Thomas is
struggling to hold Lewis down. I’m still trying to control my breathing. 

“We’ve got him, Mrs Drake, he can’t hurt you now. We’ve got
him on CCTV, it’s recorded,” Roger says quietly.

“Oh,” I say between breaths.

“That’s it, nice and slowly, look at me… Look at me.” He’s
holding my forearms and I’m clutching like mad to his. We’re literally staring
at each other. I’m aware of what’s happening and I’m trying to keep it
together, I won’t let Lewis ruin another day.

He points towards his face and breathes with me. “In and
out… in and out… Good, that’s really good.”

I feel myself calming. My face stings, really stings. I
raise my hand to my cheek to feel where he slapped me. It’s hot, I bet I’ll
bruise, I usually do when Lewis throws the punches and slaps. I’m still
kneeling looking at Roger when I see the scar above his eyebrow. I hadn’t seen
that before. I try and concentrate on anything other than the commotion behind
me. He’s wearing his usual black suit with a black shirt. I can feel his
well-developed arms. 

As I turn to look at Thomas I’m aware of blue flashing
lights behind me, the police must have arrived. I can hear a further commotion,
Lewis yelling to leave him alone. In all the years we’ve been together, all of
the times he’s hit or beaten me, I’ve never called the police, he’s never been
arrested and I’ve never reported him.