Chapter 23 #2
I didn’t want the music to end. I wanted to stay here lost in this simple moment forever, but I knew I had to come back. Vivaldi eased me back to earth with gentle beats until my feet came to rest softly on the ground again. The final note played and I clapped as the conductor gave us a short bow.
“That was incredible!” I exclaimed, my voice echoing around the room far louder than I intended.
I heard a chuckle from the stage and caught a few amused glances.
I guess such exquisite music was an everyday occurrence for them, but I’d never been to anything like this in my life. “Thank you so much for bringing me.”
“My pleasure.” His eyes fell to my lips before he broke away. He stood. “Come on, let's go before you freeze.”
“Can they play something else?”
“Another time.”
Reluctantly, I followed him. As sad as I was to leave, I was grateful to be back in the warm interior of the car. Alfie pulled out, winding us back down the deserted road.
“So, why Vivaldi? Why does that piece of music mean so much to you?” There was a pause as he debated whether or not to tell me the truth.
“My mother told me once that she played it to her stomach when she was pregnant with me.” The revelation stunned me.
“I thought you didn’t like your mother.”
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love her. When I listen to Vivaldi, it reminds me there was a time when she loved me too.” My heart hurt for him, I’d only had twelve years with my mum, but at least those had been full of love. I’d take that over a lifetime of cold indifference.
“Why doesn’t she like you? If she did that when she was pregnant then she must have cared for you once.”
“I don’t know.” He sat quietly, staring into the dark night as he drove. “My whole family is cold, distant. Despite what I became later, I was never like that as a child. Perhaps I was too much, perhaps I was a disappointment. I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I didn’t know how Alfie could have been a disappointment. It didn’t make sense to me.
“So am I, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Despite not having you back, I feel lighter than I used to.”
“You seem lighter.” It was true, he did. Some moments weighed heavy and he always looked tired from working so much, but overall, he was lighter. “So, where to now?”
“That’s up to you. I can drive you home or I can take you to my place and you can spend the night.”
I considered my options. Despite my fear, I wasn’t ready for the night to be over. I took a deep breath. “Your place.”
“Good girl.” With just those two words, everything south clenched. I arched an eyebrow at him and he smirked. “Sorry. Old habits.”
“What is it?” Alfie asked as I looked around the cold monochrome hallway of his mansion. Those strange black squares were the only things breaking up the monotony of the white walls.
“Just remembering how much I hate your house.” I peeked at him to see if he was offended but he wasn’t.
“Like I said, throw paint at the walls if you want. I don’t care.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
“We could watch a film, if you want to.”
I raised my eyebrows at Alfie Tell volunteering to spend a few hours staring at a screen. “Right, in your own private cinema?”
“I’ve never used it. You, uh, you like films.”
“Yes, Alfie. I like films. Me and the rest of the human population.”
He rolled his eyes. “So, we could watch one? And eat…popcorn?”
“You have popcorn?” I could not envision Alfie eating popcorn.
“I have no idea, but I could get some.”
“I don’t think we should watch a film.”
“Why?”
My hands twisted in front of me, unsure how to explain it without laughing.
“Because people never make it to the end. It usually goes how it went the last time we tried to watch a film.” I raised my brows, smiling as he caught my meaning.
The last time we’d tried to watch a film together it had ended with him doing unspeakable things to me.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.” Everything in his eyes told me that’s absolutely what he wanted. That was a road we shouldn’t go down.
“I’m pretty tired.”
“Liar,” he said so sharply I flinched. “If you need space from me, just say so.”
“Okay, I need space from you. But you look exhausted, you should sleep.”
“I have work to do.” His expression eased into something softer. “Explore the house as you wish. Eat, take a bath, use the cinema yourself if you want, I won’t disturb you. If you need anything, press the intercom in any of the rooms, Ada will respond.”
“Alfie, you need to rest.”
“I need a lot of things I can’t have,” he muttered so softly I wasn’t sure he meant for me to hear.
“I’ll rest later. Don’t worry about me.” He reached out one hand to cup my face.
Once again, that dread crept up my spine and I stiffened, warding him away.
He backed off, clearing his expression. “Ask Ada about her ice cream stash. I’m sure she’ll be happy to share. ”
I watched him disappear up the stairs, fighting the urge to go after him. As soon as he was gone, my stomach grumbled. I guess I was hungrier than I thought, being around Alfie these days had a tendency to suppress my appetite. I kicked my shoes off and went in search of the kitchen.
I found it, only getting lost once. I searched the cupboards, trying to find something easy but everything was so damned fancy. I couldn’t even pronounce half of this stuff.
“Looking for something?”
I gasped and spun on my heel. “Ada! I’m sorry, I was hungry and Alfie said?—”
“Of course, what would you like?” She smiled, wrapping her dressing gown closer around her.
“Something tasty and simple.”
“I’ve got it.” She went to a cupboard and pulled out a bag of pancake mix. Suddenly, pancakes were absolutely what I wanted. “How was your evening?”
“Beautiful, actually.”
“I’m glad to hear it, and I’m glad you came back, I was hoping I’d get to see you again. How is he?”
“Tired,” I said, thinking of the care-worn man working away in his office right now. I felt guilty for not watching a film with him, guilty for a million things that weren’t my fault. These were the consequences of his actions, I had to remind myself of that.
“That’s nothing new,” she said, pouring the mix into a pan, “and how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I answered immediately, she gave me a smile over her shoulder.
“Lola, I know that we don’t know each other very well, but I have a very good pair of shoulders that are excellent for leaning on. If you need them.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, keeping my tone even.
“But you aren’t going to take me up on the offer?” she pushed, I held her gaze. Okay, I guess we were going to have this conversation now.
“With all due respect, you work for Alfie. Which means that anything I say is likely to be fed back to him.”
She folded her arms. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Do you know how many times Alfie said that same shit to me?” I sighed, wondering how this beautiful night had taken such a left turn. “Those smell really good.” I nodded at the batter sizzling in the pan.
“How many would you like?” she asked.
“How many can you make?”
A lot. That was how many pancakes Ada could make.
I slumped in my chair, looking at my carb stuffed stomach. “It’s been a long time since I ate like that. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. And the rest?” She nodded at the warm oven where four pancakes I couldn’t finish sat waiting.
“Do you have a tray and a cloche to keep them warm?” She nodded and set about making up a tray for me, complete with a tiny jug of syrup. I stood, taking the tray. “Alfie’s in his office?”
“I presume so.” She eyed the tray and then me. “You’re a sweet girl, Lola. I hope that you two can be happy, one way or another.”
We said our good nights and I went off in search of Alfie. Once again, I only managed to get lost once before I found his office, the faint clicking of computer keys giving his presence away.
I tried lifting the tray onto one arm so I could knock but it was way too heavy. I hovered for a moment before resorting to plan B. I gave the door three hard kicks, loud enough to break him out of work mode. The door swung open and his look of rage turned to one of shock.
“Did you just kick my door?”
“My hands were full. I brought you pancakes.” I walked in, setting them down on his desk. “Eat.”
“Lola, I have work to finish.”
I folded my arms. “Humour me.”
After a moment, he gave in, returning to sit at his desk. “Sit with me?”
I nodded, sliding onto a corner of the desk as he dug in. He closed his eyes as the syrup hit his tongue. “It’s good right? Ada makes awesome pancakes.”
“That she does. She used to make these for me when I was a child.” We sat in silence as he ate. He lifted the fork with the air of a man exhausted but starving. It was painful to watch.
“You’re going to kill yourself working like this.”
“It’s no more than my father worked,” he said, lifting another forkful to his mouth.
“And what caused his heart attack?”
“A genetic heart condition,” he answered and I arched an eyebrow, waiting, “exacerbated by stress and exhaustion.” Yeah, that’s what I thought.
“You can’t share this load with anyone?”
“No, I can’t.”
“You mean, you won’t.”
“Lola, you know why I do this.”
“Yeah, to punish yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.
How long are you going to keep that up for?
” I knew he wasn’t going to answer me, which made me wonder why I’d bothered asking the question.
I sighed, guilt hitting me for giving him more stress when he was already overloaded with it, but dammit, he’d done this to himself.
“Whatever, it’s none of my business anyway. ”