Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
True to his word, Richard delivered the painting at the weekend.
I hung around at Martin’s flat when he was due.
It wasn’t hard as I never liked being at home for any longer than to sleep and eat.
I can’t remember my dad at all now. Wouldn’t know him if he walked straight past me. My mum’s a waste of space too.
I don’t know what we did to deserve such losers, but we had to put up with a lot.
Mum was always getting sacked from her job because she’d turn up drunk or wouldn’t turn up at all most days.
We often went without food, luckily getting free school meals to tide us over, and our house was always in need of a good clean.
I never brought anyone round. Even cleaning up all the time wouldn’t have made a difference.
I tried, for a long time, but then it wasn’t worth it.
Mum went to pot when she started snorting coke. I tried to get her away from it but the older she got, the worse she became. I thought it was kids who were supposed to go off the rails, but it was our mum.
So I spent a fair bit of time at Martin’s place, to escape my own.
When things got too rough, I’d sleep on his sofa.
He rented a small flat above a row of shops.
That wasn’t much either, but it was clean and tidy, and it always felt much safer.
Especially since Nigel, Mum’s latest fella, had moved in.
It took me ages to get ready. I wanted to make the very best impression the second time we met. I rooted out my favourite dress and strappy heels, spruced up my skin with fake tan, painted my nails and treated myself to a good haircut. I was gleaming from top to toe.
Richard’s smile told me all I needed to know as he pulled up outside in a pickup truck. He was everything I’d remembered and more.
‘Hi.’ I waved as he unloaded the canvas. ‘Did you find the address okay?’
‘Sure, I have satnav.’ Richard smiled as he unloaded the canvas.
I cursed inwardly. Of course he’d have satnav in his fancy pickup. I looked at it again, the registration new. I’d break my neck trying to get in and out of that.
Martin was even more pleased now the picture was with him. He handed over the money and Richard pocketed it.
‘Thanks for doing this,’ Martin said, shaking Richard’s hand. ‘My mum and dad will love it.’
‘Happy to help.’ Richard smiled at him. ‘Would you like to grab a bite to eat with me before I head back?’
‘I’ll come,’ I said, a little too excitedly.
‘Not me,’ Martin replied, failing to hide the smirk on his face. ‘Things to do.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
‘He’s sure.’ I grinned before he could be persuaded to join us.
We had a pub lunch, a ‘getting to know you’ chat over good food, and then he drove me back to the flat. I wasn’t going to let him know where I lived.
‘I’d like to see you again,’ he said. ‘I know there’re miles between us but it’s a forty-minute drive and I could pick you up at the weekend. Perhaps take you somewhere nice?’
‘I’d like that,’ I replied.
‘You’re not worried by the age gap?’
‘How old are you?’
‘I’m forty soon.’
‘I’m twenty-seven.’
‘Really? You don’t look that old.’
‘Well, I am,’ I lied. I was only just twenty, but he would never find out until it was too late.
‘May I kiss you goodbye?’
I laughed, pulling him towards me as my answer. His lips grazed mine, he stared into my eyes and kissed me properly. Then we swapped phone numbers before he left.
‘See you soon,’ he shouted, waving as he drove off. I gave out a contented sigh. Today had been a good one.
The next weekend, he picked me up and, after a pub lunch, we went back to his house.
I couldn’t help but be nervous. He was twice my age and we were practically in the middle of nowhere.
He could do anything to me and no one would ever know.
I giggled to myself. Somehow I realised he’d be a true gent.
You can tell that about someone, can’t you?
Whether or not you can trust them. I knew I could trust Richard.
After showing me around, we sat at the table drinking tea. I wanted wine but declined when he offered. It was only fair as he’d have to drive me home afterwards. That was going to take him the best part of an hour and a half.
‘Can I ask you something?’ I started.
‘Sure.’
‘How did you manage to buy a place like this? I mean it’s huge! Did you marry and divorce a wealthy woman or are you self-made?’
‘There was no woman involved, although I am divorced. I was married for seven years – no children. And even though I make a living from my art, my father died and left me a farm. I sold it and bought this place with the proceedings.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It was a long time ago now.’
‘How did he die?’
‘He took his own life. He shot himself.’
‘No! That’s so sad. How old was he?’
‘Forty-seven. It was over twenty years ago now.’
‘And you’ve lived here ever since?’
He nodded.
‘I never knew my father. He left before me and my sister started school. He was a loser.’
‘Mine wasn’t all that nice either.’ Richard smiled then. ‘Do you have work in the morning?’
‘I’m on a late shift. Two until ten.’
‘Would you like to stay over?’
‘I would.’
There was an eager anticipation for the rest of the day. And when we left the next morning, I realised I’d be coming back. Many times, perhaps even for good at one point. Because Richard Sykes-Morgan was definitely my ticket out of Derby.