CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1) (39 page)

“Tell me about yourself Coral?”
Oh
Crap, here we go!

“What do you want to know?” I
ask, trying not to let my defensive wall come up.

“I don’t know....stuff?” Tristan
says shrugging.

“Tristan,” I stop walking and turn
him around to face me. “Why don’t you just ask what you really want to know,” I
say, trying to put on as much of a brave face as I can.

“I don’t want to rock the boat,”
he says grimly. “You’re very defensive. And I’m sure you have every right to
be’ – “Tristan, just...” I run my hands through my hair. “Ok, when I talked to
George about you, he said I’ll never know what kind of potential we could have
if I don’t let you in, and that you’ll always feel like you never know if
you’re going too far or saying the wrong thing...” I close my eyes trying to
balance myself and calm my scattered thoughts.

“Sorry, I’ve never been too good
with getting out what I actually want to say, it just kind of sticks in my head
and stays there.” I shake my head to try and shake off the bad thoughts. “Ask
away Tristan, if it’s too hard a question I just won’t answer.” I say hoping
I’ve placated him.

Tristan holds my face in his
hands again and strokes my cheeks with his thumbs. “Why were you adopted Coral?
What happened to your parents?”

“That’s two questions.” I
breathe.

“Right, two,” he says staring
down at me.

My old instincts try kick in, to
get out of his hold, to run. So I don’t have to talk about the past or deal
with hard questions. So I fight them, because I want Tristan more than I’ve
ever wanted anyone or anything in my entire life. I nod slowly to him. Tristan
releases me, then takes hold of both my hands, my breathe hitches with the
contact.

“Ok.” I take a deep breath and
exhale slowly, we are stood face to face my hands in his, this feels safe
enough to talk about. “I was four when my Dad left, I think he’d had enough of
my Mom – of course, I was too young really to know why. But I think it must
have been the same for Kelly’s Dad too, because he left when Kelly was six, or
so she told me.

“I have this really weird memory
of going downstairs because I was thirsty, and Dad had some woman in the house.
Mom was a nurse she was working at the hospital, night shift I guess. Of course,
now I’m an adult, I understand it completely. He was having an affair with
her,” I drift off for a moment remembering the woman, she was pretty, really
pretty and she seemed like fun too, I remember them laughing a lot. Mom always
looked like crap and hardly ever laughed.

“What did your Dad do?” Tristan
asks staring at the concrete walkway. “Sorry, do you even remember?”

“Salesman, but I don’t know what
he sold. I think the woman he left my Mom for was his secretary, but that’s
usually how it goes right?”

“Why don’t you call Gladys Mom?”
I frown hard.

“B-because I wouldn’t...my
Mother’
– I hiss – ‘was a waste of space, I wouldn’t...no I couldn’t call Gladys by
that title, she is so much more than that to me. Angel would be a better word
for her...”

“Why do you say that?” Tristan
asks.

“Because she saved me Tristan, in
so many ways…she was perfect for a girl like me. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for
her. I’d have gone down the wrong path, you know drink, drugs, whatever it took
to make the pain and the rage disappear.” I shake my head remembering back then.
“Gladys taught me how to deal with my feelings, my emotions. But above all she
taught me how to laugh, she taught me that it was ok to be silly and childish,
she gave me a way to deal with the problems, by using laughter.” I let out a
long breath.

“That’s a damn good idea.”
Tristan says in surprise.

“Shall we?” I say, gesturing to
walk on with my chin.

“Yes.” Tristan releases one of my
hands, but grips the other tightly, my breath hitches again.

“Do you see your Dad?” He asks
innocently.

“No!” I bark, then sigh. “When he
left, he called a couple of times, but…” I shake my head at the memory. “Not
long before I came to Gladys’s my Mom told me I’d never see him again, that he
had a new family. I guess it meant he’d had more kids.” I shrug looking at the concrete
walkway.

“Jesus, some parents are real
assholes,” Tristan says solemnly.

Just as he says that a woman
walks towards us with a can of lager in one hand, cigarette in the other, the
man that she’s with is doing the same. Neither of them are taking any notice of
the disheveled looking toddler, who trips over and scrapes his knees on the
concrete, he screams in pain, and instead of either of them comforting him,
they start shouting at him, then start swearing at each other – Poor kid!

Tristan and I glance at one
another, no doubt both thinking the same thing. I want to help the child, give
him some comfort, some stability, but I can tell by the parents that it could
turn nasty. I shake my head and get back to our conversation.

“Yeah, they are. But as George
reminds me when I get mad about it, that the past is the past and the future is
the future. You can’t control, change or re-write either. Focusing on the
present is the only thing that’s important, the here and now. I can let my past
dictate who I am, or I can take charge, and become the person I want to be.

“It’s not easy, there are days
when I really struggle, I think it’s the why more than anything, well actually
no, it’s the how too. That’s why I find it so bitter-sweet being around Lily. I
mean I love her, absolutely adore her, of course I know her parents do too. But
when I look at her, I can’t help thinking how can any adult have a child, and
then abandon it? Surely there’s like this protective thing that kicks in, you
know, like you want to protect that child, take care of it; teach it right from
wrong. I can’t wrap my head around it all.” I say shaking my head again.

I look across at Tristan, he
looks deep in thought. “Sorry, I’m waffling on aren’t I. Ask one question
floodgates open, Coral doesn’t shut up,” I titter, trying to make light out of
darkness.

“No, you’re not waffling,”
Tristan solemnly answers. “I’m just trying to imagine being in your shoes, and
what it would have been like to go through all of that,” he says staring
blankly ahead; he looks a million miles away.

I smile shyly at him, he wraps
his arm around my shoulder and squeezes me tight. Then he leans forward, making
me think he’s going to kiss me again, which he does, but it’s a sweet, gentle
kiss on my temple – I light up inside.

WE WALK IN COMFORTABLE SILENCE FOR A WHILE.
It’s felt really good to let Tristan in, to let him know some of my
past. Ironically he’s the one that seems to be more affected by it than I am. I
spot the small lemon painted structure not far in front of us, we have reached
the café. I hadn’t even noticed how far we had come.

“Tristan?” I turn to look at him.
But he still looks blank, like he’s working out a really hard math equation.
“Hey,” I stop walking and tug on his hand so he has to look at me. “Pull out of
it, or I’m not sharing anymore.” I add and bob my tongue out at him.

He finally smiles back at me.
“Anyway, we are here,” I say pointing to the café like an air-hostess again.
“Please feed and water me kind sir.” I say with a strong Somerset accent.

“With pleasure me lady,” he
chuckles bowing grandly at me. I love that he just did that, the café is packed
with people and he simply didn’t care.

I hear that little voice in my
head telling me I need to be careful, that I’m falling hard for Tristan, but I
shake the thought away and place my hand in his outstretched open palm…

WE ARE SAT AT A TABLE EATING
carrot cake and drinking coffee. Tristan said that he wanted to eat
a
‘proper dinner’
when we got back so he didn’t want to spoil his
appetite, so I went along with it, knowing that my very strict diet has been
thrown out of the window this past week. But I’m rarely naughty, so I stop
nagging at myself and enjoy the cake.

“You want to ask another question
don’t you?” I say, licking my lips after taking the last mouthful of cake.

“Your mother?” He says. I stare
out to sea and take a deep breath.

“Her,” I spit. “She doesn’t
deserve the title of mother. A mother is someone who should love you unconditionally.
A mother is someone who puts her child’s needs before her own.” I lean back in
my chair and twiddle with the desert fork.

“Will you tell me about her?” He
asks tentatively.

I glance at Tristan from the
corner of my eye then look back out to sea. Do I really want to talk about her?
Is she worth my breath? Deciding I’ll tell him, I close my eyes and begin.

“She...she’s a drunk, a hopeless,
useless drunk. It wasn’t long after Dad left, and Kelly died, that things
really went downhill’ – I shiver internally – ‘She stopped going to work, I
guess she was on the dole. I’m not really sure. I remember feeding myself,
that’s if I could find anything to eat,” I snap and grit my teeth. I still
remember how my belly would swell and then the pain would start. I shake my
head at the memories and glance at Tristan again, he looks mortified.

“She tried to kill herself. I
called 999, police and ambulance came, and I got took away. I did see her a
couple of times after that, but.....” I trail off I don’t want to say anymore.

Tristan takes my hand that was
playing with the fork, and squeezes it tight. He looks so sorrowful then he
slowly brings my hand to his lips, and kisses the back of it. “I’m so sorry
Coral...I...I don’t really know what else to say to that.”

I lean forward and using my free
hand I softly stroke his cheek. “You don’t have to say anything Tristan.” I
feel the pull between us again, I want to kiss him. It takes me by complete
surprise. Just as I’m leaning closer to him, we are rudely interrupted by an
elderly woman, who pokes Tristan with her walking stick.

“You should be ashamed of
yourself,” she croaks. She looks incensed, like she wants to attack him.

“For what?” he asks innocently,
staring up at her wild, angry face.

“That!” She says swinging her
stick so it points at my face. Tristan and I both smile, which turns out is the
worst thing to do.

“Oh! You think it’s funny young
man?” She raises her stick in the air, I think she’s going to bash him with it.
Tristan throws out his arm to protect himself. I launch out of my seat and grab
her stick, just as she brings it down.

“Hey lady,” I hiss, glaring at
her. “I got this from playing bouncy castle with my niece.” She frowns back at
me then narrows her eyes at Tristan, so I continue. “I would never let a man do
this to me. That man’ – I point to Tristan – ‘has more respect for women than
any other man I’ve ever met. He happens to be the most kind, gentle, loving
person I have ever known,” I say feeling the weight of my own words. “So put
down your stick and be on your way.” I put my hands on my hips and glare at
her. I’m not sure if she believes me, because she narrows her eyes at Tristan
for a few seconds then walks away, muttering to herself.

“Wow,” Tristan chuckles. “My
heroine.” We both burst into fits of giggles. I see the lady look back at us
shaking her head, but I don’t care if she believed me or not. I was not going
to let her attack Tristan for something he hadn’t done.

“Shall we start walking back?” I
say glaring back at the woman’s retreating figure.

“Yeah…” I don’t think Tristan can
quite believe that a little old lady would have the courage to say that, but
then I see Gladys doing something exactly like that when she’s old and diddery.

WE STAND AND START HEADING BACK TOWARDS THE MARINA
. The moment we started walking again Tristan reached for my hand, I
placed it in his and felt that same sense of peace that I got from the dream. I
feel very relaxed but also tired, the long walk has worn me out, and my head
and nose are starting to pound again.

“Can I ask you something?” I roll
my eyes at Tristan, waiting for his question. “Don’t take this the wrong way,
but why don’t you have guys lined up Coral? I mean you’re stunning, mesmerizing
even, yet you’re not dating? You should be beating them off with a stick.”

“I’ve told you Tristan, fuck up,”
I say pointing to my head. “Look it doesn’t matter how pretty or attractive
someone is on the outside. If you feel vile, ugly and repulsed about yourself
on the inside, then you’re not really in the right state emotionally or
mentally to be getting involved with someone. Are you?”

His mouth pops open in shock.“I
couldn’t say I don’t know what it is to feel like that. I take it you do?”

“Not so much anymore, George has
really helped me develop a healthier internal relationship with myself. I guess
he’s worked wonders really. It’s only been since the beginning of this year
that I’ve been able to look at myself in the mirror without turning away in
disgust....” I stare out at the ocean. I don’t want to see Tristan’s reaction
to that.

“So is that why you were so
adamant that we shouldn’t see each other, because you have issues...well...you
know…I mean, that came out wrong…” He stops walking and runs both hands through
his hair.

“Tristan, it’s ok you can say
that you know. I do have issues. I like to think of myself as a work in
progress.” I look up at him, he looks a little flustered. Which is fair enough,
I think I’d be having the same reaction if the roles were reversed. “I still
stand by what I said though, I really don’t know if I’m capable of having a
normal, healthy, long term relationship.” Tristan gazes back at me.

“I think you can,” he whispers,
taking a step closer. “You just don’t want to get hurt again.” He leans down
and softly kisses my cheek, it takes my breath away. The sheer proximity of him
is enough to make my heart pound, my head feel woozy…I smile shyly at him.

“I don’t think it’s such a good
idea to eat out tonight,” I chuckle trying to lighten the mood. “You know, just
in-case you get attacked again.” I burst out laughing at my own joke.

“Oh ha ha!” Tristan wraps his arm
around my waist and playfully swings me around. “So what do you want to do?” He
asks.

“Well I’m feeling pretty worn
out, so a movie sounds good.” I like the idea of that, curling up on the sofa
next to Tristan.

“Yep I’m up for that. But what
about food? You want to order in?” He asks.

“No, no take-away, I have eaten
far too unhealthily already this week. How about a roast dinner?”

“Sounds great, but I don’t think
you’re really up to cooking Coral, you should be relaxing.”

I roll my eyes again. “Tristan’ –
“I can cook,” he interrupts, shrugging his shoulders.

“You can?” I say rather
astonished.

“Don’t look so surprised. My
Grandmother taught me, I can make a mean roast dinner,” he says smugly.

“I’m impressed,” I chuckle –
secretly thanking the heavens for sending me a man that can cook, and fend for
himself. “Well, when Gladys doesn’t do a roast I have to admit I cheat, I buy
everything premade, chuck it in the oven, then serve it up for me and Bob.”

“You and Bob?” he says. I watch
Tristan’s face twist with anxiety as he tries to remember.

“Yeah Bob…you know my next door
neighbour?” His whole body sags with relief.

“Oh right, yeah I remember. Bob.”
He says nodding at himself.

“You thought it was my secret
boyfriend.” I chuckle. Tristan shrugs but I can see that I'm right, I laugh out
loud again and continue. “So every Sunday night I make one up for him and take
it round. If I’ve been to Gladys’s I bring one back for him, on occasion he
comes along.”

“That’s sweet Coral.” I shake my
head wishing I hadn’t, it’s hurting again.

“I don’t think so. Bob’s all on
his own, I like looking after him. I make him fresh meals after work too,” I
say. “He eats too much canned food,” I add, which he does. It’s not healthy.

“Coral.” Tristan stops us
walking, and stands opposite me. Slowly his hand reaches up and strokes my
cheek. “It is sweet,” he says, his eyebrows knitting together.

I gaze up at him. My heart starts
to hammer against my chest, I really want to kiss him. I want to know what
those full lips will taste like. What they will feel like brushing gently
against mine. I think Tristan’s feeling it too because he leans into me, his
lips inches from mine. But just at that moment his mobile starts ringing.
Tristan mumbles something under his breath and pulls away from me. “Sorry.” He
says looking exasperated.

“It’s fine.” I breathe, although
I’m totally gutted.

“Tristan Freeman.” He answers
politely, though I can see he is agitated, then walks a few feet away from me.
I walk over to the seawall to give him a little privacy. Whatever the call is
about looks important, his expression is seriously intense, he doesn’t look
happy.

As I lean against the wall and
look out at the ocean, my mind starts wondering to Rob and Carlos, and my
decision to go see them after Lily’s party. It keeps nagging away in the back
of my mind, and I know whatever it is that he’s upset about must be bad – him
crying like that, it just wasn’t right. I know I have only known him a couple
of years, but I feel like I’ve known him all my life. So I decide to make it my
mission after seeing Tristan’s doctor, to go over to their place and find out
the truth, beat it out of him if I have to.

Then I think about Debs and Gladys,
and the fact that they kept Malcolm a secret and how hurt I feel because of
that. Then I think about what Debs told me – how I’ve seen less and less of
everyone – of course she thinks it’s all to do with Justin, but it isn’t at all
– Yes, he broke my heart, but that was nothing compared to being raped, forced
upon.

And she is right, after that
happened I alienated myself from the world – not just my family. Rob’s the one
that really got me out of my studio, he got me socialising again, I couldn’t
have done it without him, I know that. Which is why I have to repay the favour,
get over there and see him. But I don't know what to do about Gladys not
telling me, no matter how distant I’ve been. I still don’t understand why she
didn’t just casually say that she’s seeing someone?

But then I’ve always thought
Gladys and Debs are the closest, much more than she and I. But maybe that’s
because Gladys had Debs from the very beginning, when she was a baby, they say
a deeper bond forms when you have a child from scratch. Maybe that’s why I’ve
always felt out of the loop? I mean I know Gladys loves me, deeply, but it’s
just not the same. I just can't stand lies and secrets. It drives me up the
wall and makes me feel insecure, like there’s a bomb about to go off and I’m
the last to know about it!

“Hey.” I feel Tristan’s arms wrap
around my waist, his body pressed against the back of mine. I should panic at
this kind of embrace it’s never felt safe or comfortable to me. It’s one of the
many things Justin used to moan about to me, that I wouldn’t show affection
towards him. He called me cold, but then he didn’t know me, not really.

Tristan knows more about me in
the short amount of time I have spent with him than Justin did in the two years
we were together. Yet, with Tristan, this feels…normal, right, as it should do
–
I wonder why that is?

“Hey yourself,” I say twisting my
head round to smile up at him.

Tristan smiles warmly at me and
kisses my cheek, then gazes out to sea. “That was my doctor, you’re in for
8.15am tomorrow,” he tells me.

“Ok.” I say.

“Not too early for you?” I
silently shake my head, reveling in the feel of his arms around me. And for a
long time we just stay there like that, both deep in thought...

AFTER A VERY FUNNY SHOPPING EXPERIENCE,
we make it back to the studio with bags full of food and wine,
which Tristan insisted on carrying. I feel totally whacked out again.

“You look tired.” Tristan
guesses.

“Yeah, my nose is really hurting
again.” I answer feeling guilty that all I want to do is sleep for a while.

“Why don’t you have a cat nap on
the sofa, I’ll get dinner in the oven.” I smile sleepily at Tristan.

“You don’t mind?” I say stifling
a yawn.

Tristan smiles at me. “No not at
all. I think I would be feeling the same if my nose was nearly broken,” he
responds sweetly, kissing my forehead.

“I feel guilty leaving it all to
you.” I say running my hands through my hair.

“Don’t.” He demands strictly.

“Yes sir.” I titter and head over
to the sofa.