Chapter 147
One last hug before she slung her backpack over her shoulder and set off for the day.
And then it was just me. Waiting. Nothing new to write. Just me and my thoughts. Waiting.
Nine a. m. turned to ten a. m., and my nerves increased. Waiting. Ten turned to eleven, and my nerves were growing more jagged. I found I was pacing between cigarettes, hope fading fast. Until I heard the tap of knuckles from outside.
I thought I’d prepared myself to answer the door, responses ready for whatever reaction awaited me, but they all faded to nothing when I came face to face with Beverly in the flesh, standing there before me with the printed pages gripped in her hands.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said and stepped aside.
Her eyes roved around the place.
“I didn’t expect it to be like this in here. Looks like a palace.”
“Thank you. I’ve tried my best. Your daughter was quite an asset on that score, she has a great sense of style.”
“Yeah, she does. Just a shame she never got a chance to express it with me. We’ve always been too skint.”
She looked down at the papers in her hands, and I became nervous again, blustering out an offer of a drink as I slipped past her on my way to the kitchen, but she took hold of my wrist as I went, meeting me with piercing eyes, exactly the same light blue as her daughter’s.
“Is this true? Is this how you really feel?”
I looked down at chapter one in her hands.
“Yes, it is. It’s exactly how I feel.” I dared to smile. “I hope you can tell that from my words.”
My pulse thumped with relief as Beverly smiled back. “I love how you put in the hand thing she does when she’s laughing. Hardly anyone sees that. And you know what? I’ve offered to get her glasses frames tightened a thousand times at the opticians, but she never wants to. It’s a habit now, pushing them up her nose. It makes her her.”
“Yes, it does. It’s adorable.”
“Yeah, it is.” She let go of my wrist. “I’ll have a coffee, please. One sugar.”
“Coming right up.”
She followed me into the kitchen, still scoping the place out. She grinned as she saw a note Rosie had written for me, fixed to the fridge with a magnet. Love youuuuuuuuuu.
“This is the real deal, then? How you feel about Rosie and how she feels about you?”
I didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“And what about the things they say at the pub? That you like fucking college girls, and you’re a cheating asshole? Is that true?”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
I admired her bluntness, and I showed my honesty as I handed over her mug.
“It used to be. Yes. I could call it complicated, but there is no excuse for it. Everything in life can be complicated. We all make our own choices, and our own mistakes.”
She tipped her head. “That’s true. I’ve made plenty.”
“I’m sure you have, but I don’t imagine you’ve been fucking college girls behind your wife’s back, only to be disgraced and caught out.”
“Banished, yeah? That’s why you ended up here.”
“Yes. It is.” I took a breath, determined for the full truth to be exposed. “Actually, I was planning on ending my life, before your daughter showed up. I have a lot to thank her for.”
“Ending your life? That’s a bit drastic.”
“It’s where I was at the time. Rosie made that better.”
“She’s a great girl.”
“She’s an angel. I’m sure you are very proud to be her mother.”
“Oh, I am.” She had the same kind of dimples as Rosie when she smiled. The same welling of tears in her eyes as the emotions caught her. “I missed her so bad.”
I noted the past tense.
Missed.
“As did she. A huge amount. She’s been desperate for you.”
Beverly put chapter one down on the side and wiped her eyes. She cleared her throat, choking back more tears.
“So, tell me. Is Rosie really the miraculous girl who changed you? I’ve heard that kind of bullshit plenty of times. You’re the one and only, so different, blah blah blah.”
“I’m sure you have. But Rosie is a truly miraculous girl. She’s not blah blah blah. She couldn’t be.”
“Would you have really stabbed Scottie in the ribs for her?”
My heart was truly racing now.
My stare was right on hers as she carried on.
“You would have done it that morning? Honestly? You’d have killed the piece of shit to keep her safe, damned with the consequences?”
“To keep you both safe. Yes. I would. And he knew I was serious. Hence he upped and left like the true piece of cowardly shit he is.”
She sighed. “I didn’t have a clue about that, you know. I kidded myself that Scottie and me had our problems, but they were spats, and he got heated, and he’d always apologise. Said he’d get therapy. Said things would change, and they would for a bit.” Her brows tensed. “I fucking hate him. I’d stab him in the ribs myself for what he did to Rosie that night.”
“I’m sure you would.”
Her eyes didn’t leave mine.
“Thank you. For keeping her safe.”
“I always will.”
She gestured back to chapter one. “That’s pretty obvious, if those words are true.”
Beverly let out a long breath. I could feel her calming down in my presence, and I calmed myself, feeling strangely at ease. There was no hostility emanating from her, no rage, or finger pointing, or threats. She just sipped her coffee and looked at me.
I didn’t push her, or ask her for forgiveness, or approval, or anything. Her reactions were up to her, and I’d support them. She was Rosie’s mother. I had no place to influence her, other than offer the truth.
“I love your daughter,” I told her. “On my life, and her life, Beverly, I love your daughter, and I would do anything to keep her safe. Anything.”
Fresh tears sprang up in her eyes.
“Then take her away from this place, please. Take her away from here. From this shithole, this crappy estate, from this block and all its bullshit, all its everything.”
“Sorry?”
Her gaze was so real. So true.
“Please, Julian. If you love my daughter like you say you do, then take her away from here and give her something more. Will you do that?”
I was surprised by her request, but I didn’t hesitate.
“Yes. I’ll do that. If she’ll come with me, I’ll take her anywhere she wants to go.”
“You promise?”
“I swear.”
She smiled at me. Rosie’s mother smiled at me, like I was a hero and not a villain. It meant so much that I felt my own tears welling.
“So, where’s chapter two, then?” she asked. “You can’t leave me hanging after chapter one.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously? You’d like to read more?”
“Hell, yes. I think anyone would.”
My heart swelled. Proud. But my trepidation tingled around the edges.
I laughed a nervous laugh. “I’m afraid things get a bit raunchy after chapter one. I’m sure you don’t want to read about that.”
She grinned back at me. “You’re blushing,” she said and I felt my damn cheeks burning up.
“Sorry,” I said, “it’s just, yes, it’s a bit… explicit.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll skip those parts.”
“I mean, really explicit. Kind of, kinky, and…”
“Seriously Julian,” she said and she sounded so much like Rosie. “Get over yourself and let me read it. I’m not as vanilla as you might think.”
I was beaten and I knew it. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes.
My heart was racing all over again as I led her back through to the dining table, offering her a seat at the laptop.
“Beverly, please be careful, there are different levels of explicit, and these ones can be…”
She gave my arm a friendly slap and rolled her eyes at me.
“Shut up about it. I said I’ll skip those parts. I’m sure they’re great. I just don’t want to read it about my daughter. She’s eighteen now, it’s up to her how kinky she wants to be, just so long as you’re not a sicko who wants to fuck her over, that’s none of my business.”
Well, what a turnaround.
I laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know the chapters before they appear.”
As it turns out, they were a long time coming, and Beverly took the pages slowly, commenting throughout, her reading interspersed with chatter and cups of coffee, until finally, we were laughing and joking. Comfortable, in spite of the circumstances. The hours sped by easily. So easily I lost track of the time.
My heart leapt up into my throat when I heard the front door opening. Rosie called out a hey, I’m home in a joyous tone and I heard her dump her bag in the hallway before she came bouncing into the room with a smile on her face.
Oh my Lord, how she stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of Beverly at the dining table.
“Mum?!” Her tears sprang instantly, her sobs taking her chest. “Mum? Did you come here… to see me… are you ok? Please say you’re ok.”
Beverly was up and on her feet in a flash, letting out a shhh before she took her daughter in her arms and held her tight, rocking her like she was her little girl. A treasure. She sobbed too as she kissed her head.
“I missed you so much,” she said.
“Me too.”
“I’m sorry for everything,” her mum said, and Rosie nodded.
“Me too.”
Beverly pulled away at that, and brushed the tears from Rosie’s cheeks, as I loved to do, smiling at her daughter like the angel she truly was.
“You don’t need to be sorry.” She looked over at me, and Rosie followed her gaze. “I’m glad you ran upstairs that night, love, and I’m glad you found him. The hero upstairs.”
Rosie choked on her tears. “Really? Yeah, well, so am I. I’m really, really glad I found the hero upstairs. I could never have found someone any better.”
“Steady on,” I laughed. “I’m not exactly a superhero.”
“Yes, you are,” Rosie said, smiling though tears. “You’re my superhero.” And Beverly her mother smiled along with her.
I’m sure my cheeks must have been burning bright as I smiled over at them, with the optimism of acceptance like a bright sun in the darkness of my shame. I had to choke back tears of my own, blustering awkwardly.
“How about you two stay here to catch up?” I said. “You must have a lot to talk about. I’ll get some fresh air, and maybe some dinner for later.”
“That sounds amazing. Mum will love your steak,” Rosie said, and that sealed it. I grabbed my jacket and hugged my angel on my way through, giving another thank you to her mother.
I sighed in crazy relief when I closed the front door behind me, still struggling to believe the pendulum of life could swing so extremely from one direction to another. Faith was a glorious thing one I hadn’t been all that blessed with for a long, long time but chances are always there to be taken. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of bravery.
And an awful lot of honesty.
I knew where the post box was at the bottom of block two, with its crusty red paint that needed some attention, but still. It was in use.
I closed my eyes, lingering as I rested the bundle of letters on the slot.
Could I do it? Dare I risk it?
Faith.
Faith and honesty.
Yes. I could.
With that, I dropped the letters into the post box, and walked on by.