Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
H ot, clean water from the shower was definitely preferable to slimy pondwater for washing plaster out of my hair. The smell of decay steadily swirled away down the drain, along with some rather dubious-looking pond-based detritus. But every time I closed my eyes, a video reel of Teddy looped behind my lids, meticulously focussing on the visual splendour of the emerging-from-the-water scene. Or him leaning against a door frame with a mischievous smile. Or him almost kissing me in the car. Furiously scrubbing my fingers over my scalp, I tried to recall him falling on his arse as he was butted by a blind goat, but my brain simply turned it into a cute and adorable moment, his grumpy, slightly fearful expression now endearing and not at all annoying.
Gah! What’s happening to me?
I needed a healthy dose of reality to reset my Ted-ometer back to “infuriatingly irritating” and away from “eminently likeable”. I needed to stop this stupid crush in its tracks.
Swiftly wrapping my hair in a towel turban and pulling on clothes, I headed to the kitchen for a consolatory cup of tea, affectionately scratching Lady Fraser on the chin as I passed by, empty mug in hand, when my door buzzer rang.
“You could have just come straight up,” I said as I swung the front door open, but instead of Teddy, who I was expecting any moment for his own ablutions in my bathroom, I was greeted with a wide pair of hazel eyes, floppy sandy hair, and a smug expression.
Shit.
“Jonathan! What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, Hannah. May I come in?”
No you bloody well may not! I screamed inside my head. But my body was already moving aside and beckoning him in.
Damn you, polite English sensibilities.
Jonathan stepped over the threshold and appraised the small confines of my flat in a single glance with a curious expression. Lady Fraser let out a low growl from behind me and slunk away, belly low to the floor, eventually disappearing into my bedroom.
“So how are you? Seems like you’re, ah, doing well for yourself?”
The undertone was there. His obvious sense of superiority fuelled by his perceived lack of my success.
Fists bunching the soft denim of my shorts, I took a steadying breath.
Don’t bow down to his fuckwittery, Hannah. Come on.
“What do you want?”
“I just thought I’d pop in and see you. It’s been a while.”
He smiled, sickeningly sweetly, and I scowled in return.
“You know, I’ve always thought you’d be much prettier if you smiled more.”
Murder is wrong, isn’t it? Even following that kind of smarmy comment.
“What. Do. You. Want,” I repeated, enunciating each word.
“A cup of tea would be very nice. Then perhaps we could have a little chat.”
“I don’t think we have anything to chat about.”
“How about we start with how much I’ve missed you?”
I must have been staring open-mouthed because Jonathan broke into a wide smile and walked over, taking the mug from my limp fingers.
“I’ll make the tea, shall I?”
Just having him here made it feel like my flat was sullied and dirty. He made the new life I had carved out for myself seem worthless, just another domain under his control. He busied himself in the tiny kitchen, finding teabags and another mug, humming softly, in a very pleased-with-himself way as the kettle boiled noisily. I had the irrational urge to spray everything he was touching with bleach.
“How did you find me?”
“I asked Georgina in the office if she had a forwarding address for you.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not as elusive as you thought. Fairly predictable, actually, heading home to your parents. I thought you might need someone to look after you when we broke up. Turns out I was right.”
I growled. Actually growled, like a feral animal. The answering smirk was almost unbearable. He knew he was getting under my skin. He knew the buttons to press in order to really rile me up. I couldn’t even see an inkling of the charm and sophistication that had drawn me to him in the beginning.
“Come now, darling, we were so good together. I messed up, and I’m sorry.”
“Sorry I found out, you mean,” I muttered.
“No, I know it was a mistake – the worst of my life – and I’m here to try and make things right.”
“Right?”
“To convince you to give me another chance.”
In the periphery of my consciousness I was aware of the sound of footsteps bounding up the stairs, then a deep voice shouted through the door, “I really hope you’re naked in there, Hannah, because I’m coming in.”
Teddy appeared in the doorway, larger than life, in his dirty work clothes, like a white knight in plaster-soiled armour, charging up the tower to save me from the evil clutches of the wicked wizard. Relief at him being here engulfed me and I beamed at him, so utterly grateful for his presence in this moment.
Teddy’s returning smile was radiant. “Loving the pink towel turban. It’s a good look, although I’m sad you didn’t wait for me before you showered. I was really hoping we could have shared one – you know, just to save water, obviously.”
His comedy eyebrow waggle was halted mid-rise, as he clocked Jonathan in the kitchen area, two steaming mugs in his hands.
The change in the two men was tangible. Teddy grew taller, his posture stiffening. He seemed, all of a sudden, more rugged and confident, while Jonathan’s response was to increase the levels of smugness to epic proportions, self-assurance coming off him in waves.
“I didn’t realise you had workmen coming in, Hannah.” Jonathan said, moving closer as he handed me a cup of tea, which I promptly put down on the table and then stepped away, bumping against the armchair as I desperately sought personal space.
Teddy’s eyes narrowed and he glanced between us, trying to work out what was going on.
In a cool, calm voice, he said, “Hi, I’m Ted Fraser. I live next door.”
I was mute.
Jonathan took Teddy’s outstretched hand and shook it belligerently, clearly feeling this was beneath him. “Hello. Since Hannah’s forgotten her manners, I’d better introduce myself,” he said with a tut. “I’m Professor Jonathan Pierce.” He paused, but when Teddy gave no indication that he was either impressed or awed at this declaration, Jonathan continued, “I’m Hannah’s significant other.”
Teddy’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and he turned to me with a quizzical expression.
“You are my ex -boyfriend, Jonathan,” I answered in irritation.
“I’m here to take her back with me to Bristol.” Jonathan addressed Teddy directly, ignoring me, so utterly confident of himself, so completely sure that he had the winning hand here. It was the most infuriating kind of infuriating, the kind of fucking irritation that made my brain buzz with annoyance.
“Oh, that’s right, because hell has actually frozen over?” I pulled the soggy towel from my head, crumpling it forcefully in my hands and allowing my damp hair to fall free and untamed, the swirling golden-red strands tumbling across my face.
“I think you should leave.” Teddy said, laying a proprietary arm around my shoulders for the second time that day. The warmth of his body was oddly comforting and calming, and I felt some of the tension dissipate from my body.
“And I think Hannah needs to listen to me and stop wasting her time in this dead-end place.”
Teddy and Jonathan glared over the top of me. It was like two rams sizing each other up before they started butting heads.
“Not that anyone seems to care what I think,” I muttered, wondering how it had come to be that two men were making all the decisions about my life, in my home, without even considering my input. Crossing my arms, fingers biting into the flesh of my biceps, I stepped away from Teddy and directed a furious stare towards Jonathan, my anger back with a vengeance.
“It so happens that I also think you should leave, because there is not a single thing that you could possibly say to make me want to return with you.”
“You must know that your talents are being wasted here in this pitiful, backwater practice?”
“I like it here. The change of scenery is doing me good.” I paused, picking at the frayed edge of my denim shorts, busy fingers working out the tension I was feeling. “How’s Daisy, by the way?”
“I’ve told you, it was a mistake, and I finished things with her straight away,” he said petulantly.
Teddy reached out and brushed his fingers over the back of my hand, and Jonathan’s gaze zoomed in on the contact before he spoke again.
“I can see that you’re obviously partaking in some sort of relationship with this man, and I understand you’re probably doing this as a kind of rebound.”
“For fuck’s sake, Jonathan!”
He was unbelievable.
He held up a hand. “But, I want you back. I’ll even let you move in with me if that’s what it takes.”
Something rumbled in Teddy’s chest, something furious. It was an apex predator type of noise, and Jonathan blanched, his arrogance dissolving instantaneously. I briefly laced my fingers through Teddy’s, squeezing and silently asking him to step down; to let me fight this battle.
“Let’s get something straight here: nothing, NOTHING, will convince me to go back to you. Ever. And I’d rather eat my own eyeballs marinaded in bovine spongiform encephalopathy prions than have to have unsatisfactory sex with you ever again. So you can take your co-habitation offer and stick it up your arse. Sideways.”
Teddy stifled a snigger, but Jonathan was not finished yet.
“But I love you.” He thrust this into the air theatrically, as if delivering a Shakespearean monologue.
Did he honestly think I would swoon and fall into his arms, helpless with love and desire?
Yeah, no.
“The feeling is not mutual,” I replied in a flat, dead tone.
All the bluster and confidence seemed to deflate out of him, shrinking down before my eyes. He suddenly looked very tired. Beaten. A surge of pity erupted in my chest.
“I need you, Hannah.”
“What?”
“I need you. I can’t go back without you. Please.” Desperation had turned his voice high-pitched, whiny.
“Why?”
There had to be a reason that he had resorted to begging. Had he really realised that he couldn’t live without me? Had it taken me leaving for him to decide I was the love of his life? Surely not.
Jonathan glanced at Teddy again, and then back to me.
“I’ve realised how much I miss you, and how stupid I was. Losing you is the worst thing that has ever happened to me – I want you to know that.”
Gathering his cup from the table where he’d put it, his movements suddenly less sure, he rinsed it in the sink, before heading towards the door.
“I really do love you, Hannah. Please just give it some thought.”
And with that he slipped through the door, closing it quietly behind him and leaving a vacuum of weird silence and confusion in his wake.
I slumped into a chair while Teddy checked the stairwell to make sure he’d left, locking the bottom door and returning to my flat a little cautiously.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a monumental dickhead, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” I was tired. The confrontation and the piled-on emotions had battered me. Jonathan’s declaration had hit me like a cricket bat to the head. “Help yourself to a shower.”
“Thanks.” Teddy knelt down in front of me. “Easy for me to say, but don’t let him get to you. Do the right thing for you, whatever that might be. Your happiness is important, Hannah.”
His expression was sincere, eyes clear and bright. There was no hint of mocking me, no flinching away in disgust.
“Why are you being so nice to me, Ted?”
“I like you. Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”
“You didn’t like me in school, and you definitely weren’t nice to me then. What’s changed?”
I was in self-destruct mode now, confused and unsure, poking at a wound and allowing my feelings to fester into something even more unpleasant. Pushing and challenging, coating myself in spikes to ensure I didn’t get hurt again.
“I’ve always liked you. But I don’t think you liked me very much when we were teenagers. I’m hoping that might be changing?” His voice was hopeful, vulnerable.
“Why? Because you’re playing this flirting game with me? I suppose you’ve never had a woman that it doesn’t work on,” I said sourly.
“It’s not a game, Hannah. I’m genuinely trying to get to know you again, to show you that I’m not the hopeless idiot you seem to think I am.”
“Why?”
Teddy shook his head in exasperation. “Because I really like you, hard as you seem to find it to believe.”
Realisation dawned. His flirting had a wider purpose…
Oh God, this is really bad.
“You actually do want to sleep with me?”
“Well, the thought has crossed my mind a few times, yes, but that’s not all I want.”
Of course. I had wounded his Casanova’s pride by not falling into his arms in a gooey mess of fluttering eyelashes, by not leaping into bed with him just because he flashed me a smile or two. Despite the temptation he presented, despite the fact that he was quite possibly the most attractive man I’d ever seen, and despite the memory of the rugby club snog that lived rent-free in my head, there was no way I was doing this. No way I was going there. Because I knew once he’d scratched that particular itch, I would be dropped and he’d move on to his next conquest. Challenge conquered. Ego (and other things) stroked and satisfied. But I would be left feeling used, discarded like a piece of litter once more. Wrecked for anyone else ever again.
“I’m going out. Feel free to have a shower. Pull the front door closed behind you when you leave.” Getting to my feet, I retrieved my car keys from the pot in the kitchen and grabbed my riding boots and jodhpurs, knowing that more time with Pluto was what I needed.
“What? Wait! Hannah! Where are you going?”
“I think I’ve probably learnt all I need from your flirting masterclass, and I think you’re now fully aware of my lack of DIY prowess. So whatever this is”—I gestured between us—“can absolutely stop now.”
“Please, wait! Just give me a chance?”
He ran his hands through his hair, and a few wet leaves dropped to the carpet, but I already had the door handle in my fingers and was twisting it forcefully in my haste to get away.
Racing down the stairs, all I heard was him shout after me, “Shit! Why am I so bad at this with you?”