Perfectly Obsessed (7 page)

“Tell me about her.”

“She worked in the café everyday apart from Sundays. Sunday was the only day she rested and she would spend the whole day in her dressing gown watching all her shows she missed in the week. She used to say God would understand that she missed church because she worked hard enough to rest the day away. I wasn’t allowed out with my friends on those days, it was our day to catch up. She worked hard for me, I was her only priority and she never let me down, apart from when she died.”

“How did she die?”

“She got sick one day and a week later she was gone.”

There has to be more to it than that but I don’t press him, I am just pleased he is telling me this much.

I search the immaculate white gravestone and see she died ten years ago, Drake would only have been fifteen years old at the time.

“What happened to you after?” I ask.

“Marg took me in before the system got a hold of me. Her and my mum were best friends and looked out for each other all the time. We had our differences but she made sure I finished school and tried to keep me on the straight and out of trouble.”

I can’t imagine that happening to me yet Drake sounds so calm talking about it.

“What about your father?” I ask.

He sniffs and wipes his eye before I can see a tear fall.

“I don’t know much about him, he knocked my mum up and left her before I was born. She raised me alone and never once moaned about it. She was one of a kind around here that’s why I always make sure I stop by when I’m around. I don’t want her thinking I’ve forgotten about her.”

My heart constricts around the sadness I feel for his loss. His dedication to his mother makes me love him more. And later today when I’m sure I will hear things I may not like I will remember this moment. Like my mother said, you can tell a lot about a man on how he treats his mother.

My man visits his mother still after ten years of being in the ground.

I bend down and wipe away a few leaves that have fallen from the trees shading the tree off the headstone and find Drake smiling when I return to his side.

He puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head.

“That’s enough for today,” he says, looking back down at the grave.

“You still need to tell me the reasons I make you more dangerous, in fact I want you to tell me what makes you dangerous in the first place.”

I understand he doesn’t want to talk too much about his mother, he is still feeling the pain and probably always will do. I don’t expect I would feel the same pain of loss towards my mum, I grieved for our lack of relationship years ago.

He opened up more than I expected him to and I am happy with that, for now.

“I know babe, can it wait till we get home?”

“Sure.”

I have been here for one day and it already feels much longer. Everything is different, not just the surroundings but the way of life. Life is constantly moving.

Drake wasn’t up for talking when we got back. We curled up on the sofa together and laid in silence and that’s where we still were when he first spoke.

“The first time I went to prison was when I was eighteen years old, I’m surprised I was that old really. I was always in trouble, it started with petty shoplifting and selling the stuff on in the pubs and cafes. Then I stepped it up and started stealing cars, I would sell them on to chop shops or burn them out if I couldn’t find a buyer fast enough. I was constantly in fights, in the early days I lost as many as I won. These days I tend to win more.”

When he stops the flood of information I turn to face him on the sofa.

I get the impression he stopped for a reason.

“You can tell me,” I urge.

“I told you I’m not a good person but I need you to know I’m not that guy when I’m with you. I like who I am when I’m here with you in my arms. I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

I bring my hand up and rest it on his cheek. He is always so warm to touch.

“And I told you, I treat people how they treat me. I want to know what I’ve got myself into here. Marg gave me the impression you’re someone round here and I would rather know then not know,” I tell him.

He searches my eyes a second longer and takes a deep breath.

“I have a reputation and it isn’t for helping old ladies across the road. When I fight, I fight with my fists or anything that is close to hand at the time. It doesn’t matter to me what I use. If I want money, I’ll earn it however I can using the fastest means possible. I live my life how I want and I alone. Now I’ve got you, nothing changes apart from watching out for you as I do for myself. My name is known right across London, and by now so will yours because you’re with me.”

It might be a silly question to ask but I still do, “Am I in danger here?”

“Not any more than you were back in Great Yarmouth. It’s not as sinister as Marg probably made out, but round here isn’t what you’re used to.”

“I shouldn’t want to stay with you, I should go home and forget about you.”

“You should do but you’re not going to,” he says, his eyes intense and hard on mine.

“No, I’m not.” I agree.

“Cammie, I do what I have to in order to survive and provide for myself without having someone tell me what do. I wasn’t made to work in an office or hide my true nature. I am who I am and I’m proud to me.”

I swallow thickly and nod, it’s all I can do. He makes me feel like I can be carefree too.

There are tests to come which will doubt my sanity on the choices I have made, but you know what? I couldn’t be happier and for once I am going to look out for myself, everyone else seems to do just fine regardless of what other people think of their decisions and I intend to do the same from now on.

Chapter Five – December 2002

“Will you stop? You’re going to break it,” I giggle, shooing Drake away as he messes around with the angle for the top of the tree.

Not long ago, he had walked through the door with boxes of Christmas decorations and on the second trip he came back with a Christmas tree. He didn’t say how he acquired them and I haven’t asked.  This is the first Christmas I have been able to decorate a tree and I have gone for the complete opposite of how my mother used to do ours. Instead of the baubles and tinsel and every other decoration all colour coordinated, our tree is a mesh mash of colours and odd decorations.

Drake has been going overboard this festive season wanting to make our first Christmas together a memorable one. I think he is trying to make up for the fact that it is my first year away from my parents and as much as I assure him I’m fine about it, he carries on regardless. It’s one of the things I have noticed about him, he is intent and adamant on making memories.

I broached the subject of finding a job again on the basis that I was running out of money but whenever I needed to go to the shops for whatever reason, money would already be in my purse. When I said I wanted to get him a present that I paid for, he shrugged and told me that I was what he wanted for Christmas. As much as every woman wants to hear that, in reality it sucks.

“What do you normally do for Christmas?” I ask him, after he has put the angel in her place.

“I visit my mum in the morning then head to the pub. Marg cooks up a storm even though it’s normally the two of us and then I come back here. I guess your Christmases were pretty different?” he asks.

I nod in answer. I don’t want to revisit those times when I am excited for this year.

“What will we do?”

“I’d still like to visit my mum, I’ve already told Marg I’ll be spending the day with you so we can do what you want.” he tells me, then jumps up like a rocket has been lit from his arse.

“We only have a few days and we still need a turkey. Come on, we need to go shopping,” he says, impatiently grabbing his keys.

              The supermarket was manic. Customers trying to buy their food early to save the crowds and long queues but to no avail. Our trolley was full of meats and vegetables, much more than two people need. Then Drake was adamant we needed one of every cake and chocolates they had on the shelves. The shopping will last us for days.

Vodka was being given generously and not once had Drake put his hand in his pocket to pay for it. He’s like royalty and is treated as such. Everyone around us stops by our table with drinks and will talk to Drake for a while then move on to the other people in the pub celebrating Christmas Eve.

Drake’s arm tightens around me and I look up at him. I would never have thought five months ago I could be this happy with a man who has admitted to me that he won’t be the type of man who lives by the law.

“Why don’t you take one more?” he asks.

My grin I have been wearing every day since I came to London gets even wider. When we woke up this morning he let me open one of my presents early from him. I unwrapped a brand new, state of the art digital camera. No longer did you have to put films in and wait to have them processed into photographs. A little screen on the back of the camera lights up with your photo and you can delete it if you don’t like it.

“I want us to make many memories and have them printed and put them up all around the flat,” he told me when he saw I knew what it was.

He was and still is disgusted by my parents favouring my brothers. I guess this is him trying to make it all better for me.

All day we have been snapping away, it is the best present I have ever received.

I hold the camera up and turn it round, hoping it will get both of us in.

I press the little button and smile, leaning my head on Drake’s shoulder in the same moment he puts his cigarette to his mouth.

The image is half covered in smoke. I am about to delete it when I see Drake’s eyes piercing through the smoke, they are smouldering, pulling me into the screen.

I’ll keep it.

“Who is this beauty?”

I look up from the camera and see a man who looks to be the same age as Drake, with a shaved head and bright blue eyes holding a pint in his hand.

“Stan, this is Cammie. Cam, this is Stan. He’s a drunk and if he comes near you, tell me and I will make sure he doesn’t again.”

I frown at Drake but he is busy staring down Stan. Stan gulps the rest of his pint and slams the glass down on our table making me jump back. Drake immediately pushes to his feet and over towers Stan height, causing the guy to look up to him.

My heart begins to jump in a ridiculous rhythm waiting to see who throws the first punch.

Yet, it doesn’t come. Drake starts to laugh and then so does Stan. They both lean in over the table and hug each other with as much gust as possible.

“I heard you got back a couple of months ago, why the fuck didn’t you stop by and let me know?” Stan asks Drake.

“I’ve been busy, I didn’t know you missed me that much,” Drake jokes with him.

Drake sits back down and puts his arm back around me while Stan pulls out a chair opposite us.

“It’s nice to meet you, Cammie. It’s about time Drake settled down and it looks like he picked well.”

“I sure did,” Drake grins at me.

“Have you heard about Tommy the Tank?” Stan asks, focusing on Drake only.

“Yeah, he was a fool to go at it alone,” Drake replies.

I have no clue who they are on about or what he tried to do so I tune out and finish my drink, scrolling through the photo’s I have taken throughout the day. I’ve taken many of Drake when he wasn’t aware. Completely natural photos of him and in every one he takes me breath away.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I say to Drake, when I feel like my bladder is going to burst.

He kisses the top of my head and lifts his arm off my shoulders, I leave him talking with Stan and make my way across the pub.

Thankfully the toilets are all empty when I make it to the bathroom and I don’t have to wait. I quickly wipe the toilet seat with a bunch of toilet paper and cover it with a paper toilet seat cover. This isn’t the cleanest bathroom I have been in and I want to touch as little as possible.

Loud, angry male voices filter through the door and the first image that comes to mind is Drake getting into a fight. I’ve come to learn that Drake takes the slightest threat serious and doesn’t ever back down. I quickly finish my business and rinse my hands at the sink. Opening the door and rounding the corner back into the main bar area, I see Drake still sitting with Stan at our table. As if he can sense me he looks at me then to my side.

The raised voices I could hear were two men arguing at the bar and in the few seconds it took me to finish in the bathroom the argument had escalated into a full blown fight. I can’t get to our table without moving through the middle of the fight.

Drake stands and watches the fight, I look to the men and all I can see is fists flying everywhere, everyone around them move out of the way not trying to stop them. All enjoying and cheering on the violence. They break apart for a split second then one pushes the other and before I can get out of the way, I turn away and the guy who was pushed comes flying towards me and sends me rocketing front first over the back of a wooden chair. With his weight on top of me and the top of the chair digging into my stomach, I can’t move. My struggle doesn’t last long. The heavy weight disappears and arms wrap around me and pull me clear of the fight.

I cling to the arms thinking they belong to Drake but when I look at the fight it is him who is throwing the punches now on the guy who landed on me.

I scramble out of the arms around me and hear Stan yelling at me. All of a sudden the volume in the pub hits top level and I can’t hear anything but a continuous hum of yelling.

“Stop him,” I yell at Stan.

He can’t get arrested on Christmas Eve, I won’t let him.

Stan makes sure I am well out of the way and goes over to Drake, who is now kicking the other guy who started the fight. I don’t see what happens next, a stabbing pain in my stomach doubles me over and I clutch my middle with both hands. Oh God, it hurts so much. I don’t hear myself cry out but I must have done because before I know it Drake is beside me on the floor, yelling something in my face.

Sheer terror covers his face and he pulls my hands away to look for himself what is causing me pain.

“Cammie, what’s wrong?” he yells.

I can hear him this time as the pain lulls a little.

“My stomach…it hurts,” I manage to tell him before another wave of pain hits me.

I cry out again and he lifts me in his arms. A path clears as Drake walks us out under the rest of the punters watchful eyes.

The drive to the hospital becomes a blur, street lights blend into one the faster Drake drives and the pain increases to a level I don’t want to experience again.

Between my cries for the pain to stop and Drake demanding a doctor to see me right away, I am taken into a cubical and laid onto an empty bed.

I curl my legs up to my chest hoping to relieve the pain. It doesn’t, it makes it worse.

I see brief images at a time. A nurse who looks my age is talking to me, she is asking me where it hurts and a bunch of questions I can barely answer. Thankfully, Drake is telling her what happened. I see her glance at Drake’s bleeding knuckles before she turns back to me.

“Could you be pregnant, Cammie?” she asks, after asking the usual questions.

Pregnant? Drake and I gasp simultaneously, his from the prospect of a baby and mine from pain and shock.

We have been using contraception but I am ashamed to admit, not every time.

I didn’t think of the consequences. I have been solely wrapped up in Drake it didn’t occur to me I could be pregnant.

“When was your last period?” she asks, moving on from the last question I didn’t answer.

Maybe she could tell from my face.

“Um, I can’t remember, about two months ago, maybe,” I manage to say.

“Okay, I want to examine you. Is that okay?” she asks.

I nod my head and squeeze my eyes shut for a second until the pain passes.

Drake has moved around the bed to give the nurse room and is holding my hand when I open my eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” I cry, only concentrating on him and not what the nurse is doing.

“Sorry for what?”

“I could be pregnant.”

The tears streaming down my cheeks are confused tears. We haven’t spoken about babies before and I assumed he didn’t want any. I certainly didn’t want any yet, the thought of having a baby terrified me. Now it could be real and the possibility that Drake’s baby is growing inside me isn’t so scary.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that, I’m the one who put it there if you are,” he smiles, trying to make me feel better.

I try to smile but another shooting pain envelopes me.

I am helped out of my jeans and underwear. The nurse explains I’ll be having a vaginal scan to be sure, because if I’m too early in the pregnancy the scan might not get a good look.

I roll my head away from Drake to see another nurse is watching a monitor while she moves whatever the hell is currently inside me.

“What is she looking at?” I ask the first nurse I saw when we came in.

“She’s trying to find a foetus. If you are pregnant we will see the baby on the screen.”

“Can you see anything?” Drake asks.

No one says anything.

I strain my eyes to see what they are seeing but I can’t make out a thing.

The second nurse finishes her search while the first nurse helps me back into my underwear.

“What’s happening?” Drakes asks again, this time more demanding.

The second nurse turns to both of us with a solemn expression and glances to the first nurse.

“For fucks sake, tell us,” Drake shouts.

I squeeze his hand telling him to calm down, the last thing I need is for him to be thrown out for abusive behaviour.

“I’m afraid you are suffering from a miscarriage, Miss Darcy. The baby is already gone and will pass soon.”

“Pass?” I cry.

“You will experience some bleeding quite soon, like a really heavy period with clots. The pain will subside once this happens, in the mean time we can help you with that.”

I tune her out. I didn’t plan to get pregnant nor did I want to be so why does losing this baby now hurt so much.

An hour later I lost the baby. I felt it pass and my heart broke for a baby I didn’t know I was going to have. Both Drake and I stayed silent. None of us knowing what to say to one another. He never left me though, he kept my hand in his and would squeeze it hard every now and then, telling me he was still here.

I left the hospital under guidelines to take it easy for the next week and to expect some minor pain and bleeding still.

When we pull up outside his flat, I can’t bear the silence any longer.