The Debt & the Doormat (46 page)

Wow Mum.  Wow. 

Ollie goes to stand up for himself but then sighs heavily as he realises he can’t be bothered. 

‘Why can’t you both just be like Richard and Henry!?’ she exclaims, her face getting redder by the second.

‘Really?’ Richard says.  ‘You think she should be happily married like me?’  He looks at Annabel who is quietly trying to back out of the room.  ‘I’m not happily married!  Annabel and I are getting a divorce.’

‘W…what?’ she stammers, looking around at the crowd, hot humiliation showing on her cheeks.

‘A DIVORCE!’ he screams back, his cheeks pink.  ‘We only played happily families today because I knew you’d cause a scene. Like you always do.  But fuck it, Poppy caused the scene, so why shouldn’t I join in?  Maybe I should try living a bit more like Poppy and Ollie.  They seem happier than I am!  They don’t bow to your pressure!’

‘But…but…it’s only because I love you all,’ she sniffs.  ‘I just want you to be happy.’

‘We are happy,’ I say quietly.  ‘You just need to let us get on with it.’

For a second I think she’s thinking it through, wondering if she has been an interfering mother.  Then she turns to Ryan.

‘He’s ruined everything!  Just get him the hell out of here!’ she screams.

What was I thinking?  My mother, admit that she might have been wrong?  Obviously not.

‘Gladly!’ I scream.  I walk over to him and release him from Ollie’s clutches. 

‘Come on.’

I take his arm and pull him away towards the reception area.  I turn around to face the crowd and decide to put the record straight once and for all.

‘Oh and just so everyone knows.  I’m NOT pregnant!  And I’m NOT marrying Stuart.’

Ryan and I walk in silence as I guide him towards the reception desk.

‘Excuse me, but can I have the key for my room.  I seem to have mislaid it.  I think its room thirty five.’

I just hope someone picks my handbag up for me.  The immaculate reception clerk looks us both up and down judgementally. 

‘Do you require any assistance?’ she asks narrowing her eyes at me.

‘No thanks.  I just want my key.  It's in the name of Poppy Windsor.’

She stares for a moment longer and then clicks onto her keyboard.

‘Here we are.  See you at breakfast Miss Windsor.’  She takes one more disapproving look at both of us and then turns back to her computer screen.

‘Come on,’ I say, dangling the key in front of him.  ‘I’ll get you cleaned up.’ 

He smiles weakly but I can tell he’s in pain, the blood still dripping from his nose.  I press the lift button. 

‘So, you’re definitely not pregnant?’ he asks, his face serious.

‘Definitely not.  It was a misunderstanding that got a bit out of control.’

He smiles as if he’s thinking ‘of course, it's Poppy – there’s always a drama.’

The lift opens, presenting an old grey haired couple who instantly look alarmed. 

‘You kids look like you’ve been having fun,’ the lady says, smiling warmly as they walk past us.

We both look at each other and smile. 

‘We used to have fun, didn’t we dear,’ the old man says to her, kissing her on her hand romantically.

The lift doors close and I catch our reflection in the mirrored door.  We look a right state.  I thought Ryan looked bad, but I look equally rough.  I’m drenched from the rain, my hair already starting to frizz and my dress is covered in mud from where I fell.  Not that you could really tell, the difference in colour of the mud and the dress not being much.

‘Well, we look like a sexy pair,’ I say laughing as I turn to him.

His expression is deadly serious.

‘What's wrong?’

‘Pops, I’m so sorry,’ he says, looking pained.

‘What for?’ I ask, desperate to make him feel better.

‘I think it's pretty obvious.’  He wipes blood from his nose with his sleeve.

‘Don't be sorry.  I enjoyed seeing you knock the crap out of him.’

He smiles briefly before the tortured look on his face returns.

‘I doubt I’ll be invited to their wedding anniversary party.’

The doors ping open and I help him out of the lift, putting his arm round my shoulders, even though I doubt he needs it.  I just want to touch him.

I fiddle around with the electric fob in the door.  The damn thing won't turn green.  I keep trying, but the light stays red.

‘Here,’ he says, taking it from me, the heat from his touch sending me into a panic.

He swipes the card once and the door instantly opens.  I walk in and turn on a lamp.

‘Here, sit down and I’ll get some towels.’  I place him on the edge of the bed. 

I run to the bathroom and grab a towel, running it under the tap.  I clock myself in the mirror and remove the smudged mascara from under my eyes.  I take a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and walk back out to him.

He’s turned the TV on to a murder mystery, random dim screams filling the room.  He smiles at me, still tortured.  I walk up to the end of the bed, throwing my shoes in the corner.

‘Still can't seem to wear a pair of shoes, then?’ he grins.

I smile and stand in between his legs, patting the wet towel to his bloody nose. 

‘It seems to have stopped bleeding now anyway.’ 

I run my hand through his wet hair, his curly waves completely wild from the rain.  His big brown eyes lock mine.  Breathe, I have to remind myself.  I’ve a sinking feeling that it's a wasted attempt. 

‘Let me see if you’re cut anywhere else,’ I say breaking away from his stare.  I slowly take off his suit jacket.

‘Sorry,’ I say, as he winces from the pain.

‘I’m OK,’ he says, his breathing quickening.

‘Shit, there's some blood through your shirt.’

The sight of the blood makes me feel nauseous. I slowly begin to take off his shirt, my fingers fumbling with the buttons.  I try to ignore him watching me intently.  He makes me so nervous.  When I finish unbuttoning I carefully peel it off him to reveal his perfect olive skin and taught muscles.  I trace my fingertips over the outline of his bullet wound scar on his shoulder. 

‘It's healed nicely,’ I say, panting.  He looks up at me and I struggle to breathe.  ‘I should check your back for cuts.’

I lean over his shoulder, letting my hands trace slowly down his muscular back, tracing his spine on the way back up.  The silky feel of his skin is the stuff fantasies are made of.  I dab the towel to a few small cuts, but nothing to worry about.  I’m about to lean back when I feel his fingertips gently touch the back of my knees, circling in opposite directions.  It's so gentle at first I wonder if it was an accident.  Tingles begin to go up my spine, but I try to ignore them.

I lean back slowly and he catches me with his gaze, his deep brown eyes inviting me in.  I swallow the lump that rises in my throat.   

‘Anyway,’ I break away from it.  ‘We should probably get you out of your wet clothes before you catch a cold.’

‘Yeah.’  He puts his hands on my hips.  ‘You too...before you catch a cold.’  His voice is like melting honey.

A mischievous, devastating smile rearranges his features.  I stare into those amazing deep brown eyes, desire filling my body. 

He reaches round to my back, his touch sending an electric current through my body.  He finds the zip of my dress and slowly unzips it, all the time with his eyes locked on mine.  I begin to shake uncontrollably.  Get a hold of yourself Poppy. 

He reaches up to my shoulders and releases the straps, letting the dress fall to the floor.  I’m left standing there exposed, in my white strapless bra and black knickers, which I now notice have a hole on the side.  But he’s not even looking at my body, his eyes are still locked with mine, penetrating me, freezing me in place.

He puts his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him.  I squirm from his touch and hope he doesn’t notice.  He puts a finger into the hole on the side of my knickers as I try to remember how to breathe. 

‘Not expecting company tonight then?’ he says, smiling amused.

I hit him on the chest, glad he’s lightened the mood.  He winces slightly, making me feel terrible.

‘Oh God, sorry.’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ he says, serious again.  ‘But I just can't leave you alone anymore.’

I open my mouth, struggling to think of something to say.  I search for the words, but I can't speak.  I’m too mesmerised by his beauty.  His sad, pained face is all the more beautiful and my body pulsates from the wanting.  But I’m scared I’m dreaming this.  God knows I’ve imagined it enough times.

He grabs hold of my hands and looks up at me.  He stands up.  He’s so close, completely towering over me.  I look up at him and feel every fibre in my body want to reach out for him, but my rational mind holds me back. 

His hand strokes slowly from my hips up my back, making it curl with pleasure, until his hands are at my face.  He grabs my face with both hands and leans in to me.  His lips touch mine, engulfing me.  I melt and almost feel my body go floppy from shock.  His hands move from my face into my hair, then down to my back, wrapping me up in pleasure.

I hang my arms around his neck, diving in for more, determined not to let his lips get away from mine.  I need more.  I let my hands travel down his back, urging him closer, making him shiver.   

He lifts me up and my legs instinctively wrap round his waist.  He carries me the few steps back to the bed and places me down on it.  He leans over me, kissing the insides of my thighs, then my stomach, making me squirm and whimper some more. 

I shudder from the intensity of sensations as his hand glides over my thigh.  He groans, a sound that makes my pulse leap.  Makes me squirm to be closer still.  He pulls away and I moan from misery. 

‘Promise not to hurt me?’ he asks seriously, his face guarded.

I look at his defined arms and broad chest.  Is he serious?  Is this what's wrong with him?  He’s scared I’ll hurt him in sex?  Does he think I’m a massive big fat whale that's going to sit on him and break his bones?

‘Um...yeah, of course,’ I smile, slightly confused.  ‘I’ll be gentle with you...and try not to touch your cuts.’

A wide smile breaks over his face. 

‘No, I don't mean it like that,’ he laughs.  ‘I mean...promise not to hurt me.’  His face is full of raw vulnerability. 

I smile to myself.  How could he think little old me could hurt a complete sexual being like him. 

‘As long as you promise not to hurt me,’ I say, still half joking.  But the truth is I’m already protecting my heart.  I’m already scared of how he makes me feel.

‘Of course not,’ he smiles, drawing me in and kissing me softly on the lips. 

I’m desperate to give in to him; to let my body take over.  But he’s too gorgeous to truly love me.

I pull away, ignoring the agony of being away from him.

‘Promise you won't fuck me over?  I don't think I could handle you breaking my heart.’

As soon as I’ve said it I feel stupid.  Why can't I just go with it and see what happens?  It's my stupid romantic side taking over again.

‘Pops,’ he exhales deeply, seeming annoyed. 

‘No, I mean it,’ I interrupt.  ‘If we’re going to do this we’re going to do it properly.’

He straightens up, pretending to be serious, but not managing to hide his smile.

‘I’m serious.  No more mind games.  No more mixed signals.  No more kissing other girls.  I’m not going to be a doormat anymore.  If we’re together we’re together.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ he nods.  He tucks some hair behind my ear and smiles.  ‘I agree to the terms.  I could never hurt you.  I’m completely crazy about you.’

‘Thank God.’  And then I pounce on him.

When I wake up I’m sure that it was all a beautiful dream.  I lie completely still, hoping that I can still at least remember it.  I want to savour all of the dreamy details.  Maybe I’ll write it in a dream book.  The kissing, his warm touch, the way his body felt, made completely for mine.

But then I feel his arms wrap round me and his breath on my neck.

‘Morning,’ he breaths, kissing my cheek.

I turn around completely shocked and gaze into his deep brown eyes as I wrap my hands possessively over his shoulders. 

‘I thought it was a dream,’ I say as he slips his arms around me and starts kissing me on the mouth.

‘Let’s re-jog your memory then,’ he says, grinning and leaning in to kiss me.  ‘Unless…you want some breakfast first?’

My tummy grumbles, betraying me.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he chuckles as he flicks through the room service menu.

‘Yeah, OK.  Just get me whatever.’

He picks up the phone with his back to me. 

‘Hello.  Yep, were in room thirty-five.  I’d like to order some food.  I’ll have a full English and my girlfriend will have the same, some pancakes and a tea.  It has to be in a china cup, preferably a pretty one.  Bring lots of sugar.’

Oh my God.  He called me his girlfriend.

He turns back to me, completely unaware of how much I adore him.

‘What?’ he says, looking at me quizzically.

‘You called me your girlfriend,’ I say, flushing from saying it out loud like a teenager.

‘Yep,’ he says, kissing me on the nose.  ‘I’m gonna have a shower.’

He kisses me again and finally tears himself away.

‘OK.  Don't be long,’ I say as seductively as I can.

I lay there thinking I must be the luckiest girl in the world and pinch myself one more time to check that it still isn’t a dream.  The room phone starts ringing.  It must be room service asking a question about the food.

‘Hello?’

‘Pops, it's me,’ Jazz says.  ‘You lose your mobile?’ 

‘Hey Jazz.  Oh my God – you are never gonna guess what happened last night.’

‘Really?’ she says, sounding completely uninterested.

‘You OK?’

‘Yeah...I think so.  It's just.  Something’s happened.  I need to tell you something.’

‘OK, but let me tell you mine first,’ I say excitedly. 

‘OK,’ she says, seeming brighter.

‘Guess who’s in the shower right now?’

‘Pops, anyone could be in the shower right now!’

‘I know that!  I mean.  OK, who did I spend the whole night having sex with?’

‘Oh no Pops!  You’re back together with Stuart?  I knew this was going to happen!’

‘No!  No!  It's Ryan!’

‘Oh my God!  Really?  How?’

‘It's a long story.  Anyway, we had a long chat last night.  Well, you know, in between.  And he’s amazing.  He’s even said I’m his girlfriend!  Can you believe it?’

‘Yeah that's great babe,’ she says, sounding distant again.

‘What's up?’

‘Just promise you will be calm and not panic?’

‘Oh God!  What's happened?’

She’s broken something.  Or she’s set the flat on fire!  That's it!  She’s ringing me right now from the street, covered in one of those silver blankets that look like baking foil.

‘Have you burned the flat down?’

‘No!  God, thanks for the confidence.’

‘Oh,’ I say sighing with relief.  ‘OK, well if it's not that what is it?  Just tell me!’

‘OK...I’m pregnant.’                           

THE END