Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (12 page)

“After your father’s court case.”

“Yeah. You still think I only want that because I missed out, don’t you?”

“I think that you started wanting a family the way most people do. I think you’ve put everything into it because the idea of a wife and children filled something you’ve missed out on.” She sat forward in her chair. “When you think of your childhood, what comes to mind?”

“That it was one big fat lie. Everything I thought I had wasn’t real.”

“One part of it wasn’t. The good memories you have did happen. Oakley’s spoken about this a few times before. From the age of five, she knew your father was someone else, but he didn’t stop being the person he was to you until you were in your late teens.”

“You don’t think I feel guilty about that?”

“I understand that, but you have nothing to feel guilty about, you didn’t know. You’re allowed to have good memories of him. Oakley does.”

“He fucked all that.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”

I shrugged. “You don’t have to.”

“What is your earliest memory of your father?”

“I remember him dressing up as Father Christmas. I must’ve only been three and Oakley was a baby, walking along furniture, I used to help hold her hands sometimes.”

Carol smiled. “You know you divert back to Oakley a lot.”

I did?

“She does the same thing. It always comes back to you and your mum. She worries how you’re doing the most.”

“Because she doesn’t feel like I’ve dealt with it,” I said.

“That’s correct. Do you feel like you’ve dealt with it?”

“I dunno. I’m not sure how.”

“So your father dressed up for Christmas?”

Going back. “Yeah. He did a crap job of masking his voice; I knew it was him straight away. I was so excited when he walked through the door though. He had a sack with a helicopter for me and a teddy bear for Oakley. She chewed on its ear, and I broke the propeller of mine after five minutes. Dad glued it back, but it was slightly bent.”

“It sounds like you had a good childhood.”

“I thought I did.”

She said nothing else but I could tell she wanted to say that I had because I still had good memories. They may be good, but they were ruined. The bad far outweighed the good.

“I got a flat,” I said, trying to direct the conversation away from Max.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah a mate is letting me crash in the place he’s doing up to rent. I’ve got two months to find somewhere else in exchange for painting the place and putting new coving up.”

“You seem happier now. You didn’t like staying at Oakley’s?”

“It’s not that. I feel better that I’m not drifting now, you know? It’s not home, and I won’t get that until my place is sold and I can buy another house but it’s a start. I felt like a loser for believing I had a future with Abby and an even bigger one for crashing at my sister’s.”

“Highs and lows are a part of life, Jasper. There’s not one person that hasn’t had to have help of some sort at some point. There’s no reason to feel like a ‘loser’ about it.”

I shrugged. “I can’t help how I feel.”

“Of course. You’ve spent the last eight years being the strong one that your mum and sister relied upon. You feel you should just be able to deal with this and move on quickly. But you can’t, very understandably, so you feel worse about yourself.”

I blinked a few times, and she smiled, knowing she’d hit the bullseye.

“I will get over it,” I said.

“I have no doubt that you will, but I think it’ll go a lot faster, and a lot smoother if you allow yourself to go through it.”

Shuffling on the sofa, I nodded. “I’ll try.”

I went to get something for dinner and crate of beer after therapy. Parking outside the supermarket, I spotted Brett walking to his car with a full trolley. My hand fisted around the door handle. His life hadn’t been screwed up by his affair with my wife. Nothing had changed for him.

Shoving the door open, I ran at a dead speed and collided with his back. He shouted out, air leaving his lungs. His eyes widened as he spun around and saw who’d slammed into him.

“Jasper,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t plan it. It just happened.”

“Right, of course, you just fell inside her. Was that how it happened,
Brett
?”

He shook his head. “I am sorry. I’ve got to go.”

I laughed. “Yeah, say hi to my wife for me.”

As he walked away, he muttered, “I’m not seeing her.”

I couldn’t give a flying fuck if he was. I walked in the supermarket, heart pounding and hands shaking, and picked up two bottles of Bourbon.

Chapter Thirteen

Rubbing my tired, stinging eyes, I tried to make sense of what was on the computer screen. I’d had about four hours sleep after downing a bottle of Bourbon and crashing on the sofa. I felt like shit, but at seven in the morning, I woke up needing the toilet and something popped into my head: I’d taken Abby’s name.

Now I wished I’d changed my surname to my mum’s maiden name and not worried that I would have a different one to my wife. I couldn’t stay a Farrell and have anything related to my father, but I should have thought more about what would happen if me and Abby broke up. At the time that seemed impossible though. We were never going to hurt each other. We were going to be one of the couples that made it.

I was lost with no last name to claim that didn’t hurt like hell. There was no name I could now take that related me to anyone. Mum had Miles’ and Oakley had Cole’s. A name shouldn’t matter, but when you had nothing it was oddly important.

I dialled Mum’s number, and she picked up right when I was about to give up. “Hello?” she said down the line.

Shit, I’d woken her up. “Mum, sorry, I’ll call back later.”

“No! I’m awake. Are you okay, love?”

“I need a surname.”

Silence.

“Sorry?” she finally said.

“I don’t want Abby’s anymore. I definitely don’t want Max’s. What surnames are in the family?”

“Um. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah, I don’t want anything to do with her anymore.”

“Alright. Well there’s my maiden name or your nan’s.”

“What’s nan’s?” I should probably know that, but I didn’t. I bet Oakley did.

“Scofield.”

“Jasper Scofield,” I said.

“Sounds good,” Mum said. “And I think it would mean a lot to Nan. Are you sure you don’t just want to go back to Farrell?”

I ground my teeth. “I’d rather have no name than his.”

“I understand, but I’d also understand if you wanted to. It was your name too, what you were born with and supposed to pass on.”

“Well now it’ll die with him and that suits me just fine.”

She sighed. “Okay. What did you do last night?”

“Nothing.”

“Stayed in and drank?”

“Why’d you ask if you knew?”

“Jasper, sweetheart. You can do better than this. Don’t you dare let that woman break you. I know it’s devastating to find out someone you love is a different person than you thought but you can get through it. Pick yourself up, love, you’re better than this.”

I felt like crap. She’d been through the ultimate betrayal. My wife had cheated; her husband was a paedophile that allowed another man to abuse her daughter. My issues paled in comparison.

“God I’m sorry, Mum.”

“Don’t you do that either. You’ve been hurt, and you’re allowed to feel hurt. I just want my happy-go-lucky son back. I’ve missed him this last six months.”

“Six months?” It had just been over a month since Abby and I broke up.

“You’ve not been yourself for a while.”

Right. I had hoped they didn’t notice how unhappy I was getting being stuck. I wanted to move forward with my life and with Abby, but for a while we’d been floating, watching our lives pass us by. Or rather I had. She was sailing off without me.

“You’re right, Mum.” I wanted to be the old Jasper again.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to spend the day sanding down the wall in the hallway ready to paint, then I’m going out.”

“Okay,” she said, and I knew she didn’t understand how that was going to help, besides the decorating part – that was instead of paying rent. The old Jasper would go out whenever possible. I had no kids and no responsibilities so I should be out there living it up.

“I’ll speak to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied and hung up.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I said, leaning next to Holly at the bar. “You’re drinking. You don’t really drink.”

“Harry,” she said.

“Oh. What’s the dick done?”

“He keeps blowing hot and cold, and when I confronted him about it he broke up with me. Now he wants to get back together.”

Blind idiot.

“And what do you want?”

“I don’t like people playing games in relationships. I like to know where I am and where I stand. When I’m with him, I never know if she’s going to go off on one about me liking my ex’s status on Facebook. I’m friends with my ex, nothing more.”

I shrugged. “Told you he was a dick.”

“Thank you for that.”

“So you’re drowning your sorrows, huh?”

“Thought I’d give it a go. Works for Brad. And you.”

“Yeah but me and Brad are…”

Her eyes widened, the blue brighter with the spotlights above the bar glaring down on them. “If you say guys I’m going to smash this glass over your head.”

I laughed, sitting down on a stool. “Not where I was going. We’re… I don’t know how to put it without offending you.”

“Just say it,” she said, frowning.

“You’re good.” That probably wasn’t the best word to use. “Me and Brad do the getting smashed and sleeping around thing, but that’s not you, Holly. You don’t seem like the type that can do casual. And I don’t mean because you’re female because I know women that can have no strings sex just as well as I can.”

She stared at me for a long minute, and I paid extra attention to her hand wrapped around her glass.

Finally, she sighed. “You’re right. I’ve always been Good Girl Holly, getting high grades and coming home on time. I’ve never done anything impulsive. I’ve slept with two people, both of which I was in a relationship with, albeit a short one with Harry, but I thought we were going somewhere. I’m boring, aren’t I?”

Oh dear God what have I done?

“You’re not boring, Holly. There’s nothing wrong with not sleeping around!”

She waved her hand at me. “You think there is.”

“When did I say that? Why do women make something else out of what you say?”

“What do you think when you look at me?”

Now that was a dangerous question.

“I see a woman that has no idea how sexy she really is. You hide behind dark clothes and long jumpers. You put on a lot of that eyeliner stuff to distract people from who you are.”

She gulped. “And what if I don’t know who I am?”

“I think you do, but you don’t have the confidence to be it.”

I’d had enough alcohol to tell me that hitting on a mate’s sister was a good idea. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and there’s a handful of guys in here that would love to chat you up right now. You know if you didn’t look a bit scary drinking alone like you’re plotting ex revenge.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me, when you down shots like that and scowl at nothing you look like a woman scorned.”

She pushed an empty shot glass away and blushed. “Oh.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I happen to think the scorned look is hot.”

“Of course you do,” she muttered dryly. “But thank you for what you said. It was sweet. Sort of.”

I meant it. There was something about Holly that drew you in. Her adult innocence was refreshing and a big turn on.

She hopped down off her stool and stood between my legs. “What are you doing?” I asked, stunned.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Nothing. I need the toilet.” Ducking around me, she hightailed it to the bathroom.

What was that? Did she want me as much as I wanted her right now?

“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked.

“Two shots of tequila, a beer and a…” I picked up Holly’s other empty glass and smelt it, “vodka and lemonade please.”

He nodded. “Coming up.”

Holly got back to the bar just as I paid. Her cheeks were the same pink as when she left. “Do a shot with me, then we’ll have a drink. Then I’m taking you back to my flat.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Holly, babe, you want this, but you’re not confident enough – yet – to make the first move. If I’m wrong, tell me and after we’ve have a drink, I’ll make sure you get home safely.” She looked down; avoiding my gaze and that told me I was right. “You don’t have to be embarrassed to admit you want something or someone. We’re adults. You can tell me.”

Biting her lip, she sat on the stool and picked up a shot. “I want you,” she whispered and downed the tequila.

I cupped her chin and lifted her head. “No more being shy. You can tell me whatever you want. Whatever you want me to do.”

Her breath sucked in through her teeth. “What do you want to do to me?”

I smiled and downed my shot. “Come on.” Taking her hand, I pulled her off the stool. She stepped into my chest, looking up at me through her lashes. The way she looked at me made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Are we really doing this?” she asked, pressing her petite body to mine.

I pulled her closer, running my hands up her back. “Only if you want to. Say the word at any point and I’ll take you home. No pressure, I swear.”

“I know. I trust you. Take me to your place, Jasper.”

I fisted her hair, slamming my lips down on hers as my blood sizzled in my veins. She whimpered, her fingernails digging into my flesh. I wanted her, badly. I pulled away and pressed my forehead to hers. “God. How can you think your plain, Holly?”

She shrugged.

“I’m taking you home now. I want you more than I want to breathe right now which I know sounds crazy, but that’s the effect you have on me,” I said, running my hand up her back, “so when we walk through my door there’s no hiding or being shy. I want to see all of you. There’s no limit to what we can do in the bedroom. Ask for whatever you want and don’t hold back. You got that?”