CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1) (21 page)

Pulling the patio door shut
behind me and locking it, I make my way up to the gym. I’m hoping that there
will be a few taxis waiting; otherwise I won’t make it from Gladys to George’s
in time.

Good fortune seems to be on my
side. As I reach the car park, I see there’s a taxi waiting, and he’s free. As
I scramble inside, I have a flashback from the previous night’s escapades – Rob
and I drunkenly trying to remember the words to the song Tequila that was done
in the nineties (I think the group was Terrorvision) while we waited for Carlos
to come and collect us.

I can't help chuckling, feeling
my mood lighten a little. Spending time with Rob will do that to a person, he’s
so much fun.

“Where to love?” I hadn’t even
noticed the taxi wasn’t moving.

“Oh...um 78 waldegrave road
please.” I smile sweetly at the driver who is eyeing me speculatively. I
suppose most people don’t get into a taxi and stare blankly ahead.

As we pull out into traffic, I’m
drawn to the music playing. James Morrison is crooning away singing You Give Me
Something, the words matching my feelings for Tristan, literally line for line.

I shake my head and bite my lip,
how ironic. It really seems so poignant that it’s playing right now, I almost
laugh out loud at the perfect timing of it all.

Maybe the universe is playing a
joke on me? I frown at that thought. What if Tristan isn’t real? What if none
of this is and I’m dreaming it all? I pull my right hand up to my left arm and
pinch myself.
Yep, definitely felt that! Then Tristan must be real…
My
lips curl up into a smile and it doesn’t leave me the whole way there...

TEN MINUTES LATER
, I am
walking up the front steps of the three bedroom Victorian house that I grew up
in. Gladys bought this house with her husband forty years ago, before Brighton
really became what it is now. Gladys and her husband had only been living in it
for five years when she came home and found a letter telling her that he’d
fallen for his secretary, and had already left her.

With
no job and no money to support herself Gladys went a little crazy for a while,
until Joyce suggested renting the spare bedrooms out. So she did, it helped pay
the bills and she made some really good friends, but she dreamed of having a
family of her own. So Joyce was the one that suggested adoption, and went with
Gladys to get her signed up. Two years later she had Debbie, then ten years
later, she got me – poor woman!

I put my key into the lock and
turn it. Stepping through the front door I immediately know something is
different, I can smell spicy food. Gladys doesn’t eat anything spicy, as far as
she’s concerned a Chicken Korma is hot and foreign, she really has no idea at
all.

I can also hear some strange
guitar music playing, it sounds like what you would hear the street buskers
playing if you were in Spain, and it’s loud, really loud - I hesitantly pull my
key out the door and shout hello, to which there is no reply.

I close the door behind me and
make my way down the long hallway past the living room, the dining room, and
stop when I reach the swinging door that leads into the kitchen. I put my ear
to the door, trying to see if I can hear anything unusual and when I don’t I
push the door and it swings open, and what I see before me is enough to make
anyone’s toes curl.

Gladys is sitting on the kitchen
table half naked, her silk dressing gown is falling down her back, a man’s head
is nuzzled between her breasts licking what I think is squirty cream off her, and
she is moaning and giggling loudly...
What the...?

“Oh my god!” I gasp in shock and
spin around so I can't see anymore. I have absolutely no idea where to put
myself.

“Coral!” Gladys screams. I hear
them both burst into fits of giggles. I want to run away, but my feet seem
frozen to the floor. In the next second the Spanish music is switched off and
there’s lots of banging and cluttering going on with lots of muffled
sniggering.
Jesus Christ if I’d have known I never would have used my key!

“Coral,” Gladys sniggers. “What
are you doing here?” she asks breathlessly, still chortling.

I slowly turn to her, peeking
with my one eye first to make sure she is covered up and thankfully she is, so
I turn and face her. The man who was in the kitchen with her seems to have
disappeared.

Picking up my handbag that I
dropped to the floor in shock, I glumly answer her back. “I thought I would
come by and see you, ask how Joyce was.” I say not knowing where to look.

I can't quite believe I have just
caught Gladys in a passionate clinch, with a man I didn’t even know she was
seeing! In-fact I don’t even know if she is seeing him, or if he’s just a bit
of fun? I scratch that thought away immediately. I don’t even want to go there.

“You look shocked.” She chuckles
then hiccups. I think she’s a little drunk? Her cheeks are bright red from all
the extracurricular activities and she’s swaying slightly. As I take a closer
look at her, I see her eyes are all red and bloodshot.

I narrow my eyes at her, then I
notice it, a strange smell, not spices but something else, something
herby...then I clock it – A half smoked joint is lying in a saucer on the
draining board! –
You have got to be kidding me!

“Come meet Malcolm.” She says all
buzzy and lightheaded, still giggling. As I look back at her all I can see is
the image I just walked in on –
Oh God I wish I hadn’t come! I’ll never get
that image out of my mind!

“Um...no thanks, I think I’ll
take a rain check.” I say humourlessly.

“I’m sorry darling I didn’t know’
– I put my hand up to stop her.

“Don’t apologise for...” I stop
not wanting to say the word. “This is your house Gladys you should do what you
want...” I stop again feeling myself cringe, I can see Gladys is finding the
whole situation amusing, and is trying her best not to laugh.

After a few seconds, I finally
see the funny side of it and start chuckling too, but then I think it may have
something to do with the weed that’s floating around the kitchen, giving me a
hit.

Gladys totally looses it and
almost falls over she’s laughing so hard. “Oh your face....” She roars,
laughing even harder.

I instantly lose my sense of
humour. “Glad your finding this all so amusing.” I bite. I almost go to bollock
her about smoking weed, especially with all the grief she gave me about not
taking drugs when I was a teenager. But then I think, what harm can a little
joint do every now and then? She looks like she’s having a whale of a time. I
sigh heavily and walk over to her, giving her a big hug and a kiss.

She finally composes herself
enough to talk to me. “Please, come and meet Malcolm.”

I shake my head. She knows how I
am about meeting new people – especially men. “Another time,” I offer, not
wanting to hurt her feelings.

“He’s important to me.” She says
all traces of humour gone. And I know I can't let her down if that’s the case,
and if he is, I have to ask why she hasn’t told me about him? She knows I hate
secrets; it destroys trust and wreaks havoc in relationships.

I follow Gladys through the
conservatory and out into the patio garden area, where I immediately spy a tall
white haired male. He’s got to be at least 6ft 2ins and is only wearing a pair
of what I think is boxer shorts and has the body of a fit forty year old, with
a small amount of love handles around his waist.

“Malcolm this is Coral, Coral
meet Malcolm.” I take his outstretched hand and shake it quickly. I’m not sure
who’s more embarrassed him or me.

As I take in his features, I
immediately see my guesstimate was wrong. This guy has got to be in his sixties
maybe seventies, judging by the amount of wrinkles on his face. Looking closer
I see he has kind blue eyes with lots of laughter lines around them, his face
is long and weather worn, his nose long, his lips thin and when he smiles he
shows a pair of dazzling whities.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you
Coral, I’ve heard so much about you,” he says in a slight South London twang. I
immediately tense up. What has Gladys told him? “Although I have to say,” he
chuckles. “It would have been nicer to meet under different circumstances,” he
adds laughing some more. I look away still too shocked to say anything. I have
never, ever seen a man in this house. “Drink darling?” Gladys asks.

“No thanks I’m good.” I state a
little bitterly.

Malcolm looks from me to Gladys
who nods at him. “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it,” he says, discreetly
taking himself back inside.

I turn and stare at Gladys in
shock. “Gladys, who the hell is that?” I hiss, keeping my voice low.

“He’s Malcolm...” she shrugs.

“Gladys!” I scold.

“He’s from the golf club,” she
says artlessly.

“The golf club?” I repeat in
shock.

“Yes.” She sniggers. Why is it
that I’m feeling like the adult and Gladys is the child?

I sigh heavily. “So…you’re seeing
this guy?” I ask.

Gladys nods once. “I’m sorry darling,
I should have told you about him, but I didn’t want to until I really knew
myself...” Gladys drifts off and stares and the potted plants with a dreamy
look spread across her face.

“He’s important to you?” I repeat
her words back to her.

“Yes sweetheart he really is. I
never thought anything like this would happen to me, well not at my age
anyway.” She says and I notice she’s holding her hands behind her back.

“What would happen to you?” I
question cocking my head to the side, feeling my world fall away from under my
feet.

“Well...he’s...Malcolm’s just
proposed!” She squeals, shoving her left hand underneath my nose so I can see
the huge diamond ring on her finger.
Jesus age Christ, this guy must be
minted!

“Oh my god!” I gasp, taking her
hand and inspecting the ring.

“Don’t say anything yet darling,
we want to announce it after Lily’s party and have a little get together to
celebrate.” I look up at her in wonder. How the hell can this be? How is it I
don’t know any of this?

“I...I don’t know what to say.” I
whisper.

“Be happy for me darling.” Gladys
says taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.

“I am...of course I am. I’m just
shocked...I wish you would have told me you were seeing him, that you were
happy with him. At least I would have been warned – and I wouldn’t have walked
in on you today.” I add, still feeling sour.

“I know I’m sorry about that. I
don’t know who’s more embarrassed you or Malcolm?”

“Oh I think it’s me.” I answer
dryly.

“He likes you.” Gladys says,
staring at the patio door where she last saw him – she’s acting like a love
struck teenager.

“So you’re in love?” I say in
disbelief.

“Yes!” She beams. “I know this is
a shock Coral, but it is for me too. I never expected anything like this to
happen to me.” I nod silently listening to her words. This is going to change
everything. And although I am truly happy for Gladys, I always kind of expected
her to be on her own, always available to me. I know deep down that sounds
selfish, but she’s my rock, my shoulder to lean on when it all gets a bit much,
and if this new man is always going to be here, then I won’t have that
anymore...

“Coral,” Gladys whispers and
lifts my chin so I have to look at her. “Tell me what you’re thinking darling.”
I shake my head, unable, yet again, to get out what I really want to say. “You’re
unhappy about this?” She questions forlornly. “You don't want me to see him?”

“No Gladys, no that’s not it.”

“Then what darling, you can tell
me.”

I sigh inwardly. “It’s
just...you’ve always been here whenever I needed you and’ – “That won’t
change,” she interrupts, her voice firm. “Malcolm knows how important you and
Debbie are to me, I’ll never turn you away Coral.”

“It won’t be the same.” I
whisper.

“I know,” she agrees. “But if I
told you I’ve been lonely for a long time and I am happier with Malcolm, would
it make you look at things differently?”

“You’re lonely?” I gasp.

“Yes I was.” She says, her eyes
glistening over.

“Gladys, why didn’t you tell me?”
I ask feeling concerned. How long has she felt like this?

“What’s the point in that
darling? You can’t magic a partner out of thin air for me; the only one that
could do anything about it was me.” I continue to listen in a daze as Gladys
tells me all about Joyce helping her join a dating agency, the awful dates she
has had. Making some friends out of the dates that went ok, but there was no
spark, to finally ditching the dating agency and joining the golf club. So
that’s why she did that, not to get fit, to find a man?

I chuckle slightly and shake my
head. I must admit, it’s brave for her to do that – especially for a woman in
her sixties. She continues telling me all about Malcolm, apparently he’s a
property developer and a successful one too (that explains the rock on her
finger) and is divorced with two grown girls, who are twins. And I know from
what Gladys is telling me he seems really nice, but a deep dark part of me is
already worrying.

What if he turns out to be a
bastard and treats Gladys badly? What if he leaves her or breaks her heart? What
if he seems like he’s really nice and turns out to be evil just like –
No,
don't think that, don't go there
. Either way, I don’t think I would be able
to keep my hands off him if he hurt her, in anyway – So I decide to question it
all.

“How long have you known him?” I
ask feeling like the parent.

“A year.” She tells me.

“Really, that long?” I squeak.

“Oh, we were just friends at
first,” she clarifies. “Malcolm was very hurt when his wife left him, she told
him she was in love with another man, and had been for the past ten years and
the only reason she stayed was the twins. It devastated him, and he lost all
trust in women, he’s been on his own for twelve years now. And as for me...well
it almost crushed me when my husband left, he was the apple of my eye. I
believed he was the only one for me, and I spent many years waiting for him to
come back through the door...of course he never did,” she smiles hiding the
pain in her eyes. “So when we met and told each other our stories, we decided
to take it slow, start as friends. We both knew there was a deep attraction
there, and that sometimes it just takes a little longer for trust to build.
Shortly after six months we went away for the weekend’ – “I remember that,” I
gasp interrupting her.
Gladys lied to me?
“You told me you were going
away with Joyce and John for the weekend.” I say. I remember Joyce talking to
me about it the following Monday, making it up as she went along no doubt!