“What d’ya mean if? You stunk of wine when I met you in the park earlier.”
“Yeah, well, you’d stink of wine too if you’d had the morning that I had.”
“How was your mother?”
“A cunt,” I tell him.
“Nothing new there then.”
“Na. Soph and I tried to come up with something more… well, just something less offensive but failed. That word fits, so that’s what I’m going with.”
He pulls at my hair so I have to move from where my cheek is resting on his chest and look up at him.
“I love how your mind works. I love your, it is what it is, attitude.”
My heart rate accelerates at his words. They’re just what I need to hear tonight. With him, is just where I need to be. My throat constricts and my nose tingles.
“Thank you, I needed that.”
“Why. What’s wrong?” he frowns and tilts his head whilst asking.
I shrug my shoulders and swallow a couple of times, really not wanting to cry.
“I just feel like such an idiot. Not seeing what Pearce and Marcus were up to. It all just makes me feel… I don’t know. Dumb? Na?ve? All the things that Marcus said I was earlier.”
He wraps his arms around me and moves us so that we’re lying on our sides facing each other.
“Your brother and Marcus are lawyers, they’re experts in manipulation and making people believe whatever it is they’re saying.” He brushes my hair from my face. “You had no reason whatsoever to suspect Marcus of any wrong doing, so why would you think that they were in it together?”
“You did.”
“But I’m an outsider looking in. It’s always easier to see the bigger picture from my vantage point.” He leans in and kisses me, very gently, very softly. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. What’s done is done. We’re here, now, together. Right where we’re supposed to be and there’s no reason why we need have any contact with Marcus again. Or your brother for that matter.”
I know that he’s probably right, but I go to sleep with a feeling of unease settling over me. I have horrible dreams of me searching for something. I keep being given directions by faceless people, but when I follow them I just end up back where I started. It never becomes clear to me in the dream what it is exactly that I’m looking for.
I wake twice in the night, shouting and crying. Conner doing his best to calm me down. After my broken sleep, I eventually wake up to an empty bed and realise why, when I pick up my phone and note that it’s almost eleven o’clock.
We have Conner’s entire family coming over for a barbeque later today and I’ve told Sandra that she’s not to lift a finger.
My mum had a housekeeper when we were growing up, but I just find it a bit awkward now. Somebody vacuuming and washing my floors is great and always having a nice clean bathroom works for me too, but it’s the washing and the cooking I find a bit hard to deal with. Having somebody I don’t know that well fold up my thongs and changing the sheets that Conner and I get up to all sorts of intimate things between, just bothers me.
And I don’t mind my dinner waiting for me when I get home, but when I’m here doing nothing and Sandra comes over and asks what I fancy eating, I just feel like I should get up off my lazy arse and cook for me and Conner myself.
When I finally make it downstairs I find Conner in his office. He looks up when he sees me, but I don’t get his usual smile as a greeting. He’s wearing a frown and I can’t help but notice that he looks tired. He holds his hand out for me to come over to him. I sit on his lap and curl into him.
“You all right?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m all right.”
“What the fuck was going on last night, Meebs? You didn’t stop shouting and crying,” he runs his fingertips up and down my bare arm as he speaks, causing goose bumps to spread out across my body from his point of contact.
“Yeah, sorry about that. It was the same dream every time I went back to sleep.”
“You wanna tell me about it?”
“Nothing to tell, really. I was looking for something that I couldn’t find. I don’t know what it was and I never did find it.”
“Strange,” he says.
“Yeah, strange.”
The intercom for the front gates buzzes and we go to the front door to greet the local butcher who’s dropping off steak, chicken, chops, burgers and sausages. Conner tells me that the supermarket shop we did online Thursday night was delivered earlier.
We spend the next few hours marinating meat, making potato salad and coleslaw, all while dancing around the kitchen to Conner’s playlist. My mood lifting exponentially as I realise how many of the same songs we’ve downloaded over the years.