Chapter 29 #3
“You hate that I’m telling you the truth. She brings out your nurturing side, but let’s not forget... that’s not all you are. And after what I’ve seen tonight, I can see she brings out your dark side, too. But does she know that? Does she realise what you are?”
“I’m done with this conversation. You need to leave and get in the car.” He went to stand up, but my words stopped him.
“You already said that, and I hate to disappoint you, but I’m still weighing up my options.”
He gripped the edge of the table as he leaned over it.
“You have no other options. Leave, or I will make you leave.”
“How’s Alma, by the way?” I mused, changing the subject to something I knew would rile him up even more. “Is she still making the best cups of tea in the county?” I cocked my head and smirked as he struggled to hold himself together.
“I knew you were behind that bullshit. I fucking knew it.” His knuckles were white, clamped to the table like he might do a Hulk and pick the damn thing up before throwing it across the restaurant.
“You still sacked the poor old girl, though, didn’t you?”
“Obviously. I didn’t know it was you, at first. I couldn’t believe you’d be so fucking petty. But if I had known, we’d have had this conversation a hell of a lot sooner. Why did you do it? Drugging Emma... that was so fucked-up.”
The twitching in his jaw and his death-like grip on the table told me I’d hit the nerve I wanted to hit.
“What else was I supposed to do?” I hissed.
But I had a few more aces to play, and I carried on goading him.
“I was impressed you found the attic space at Emma’s, by the way.
The people on that block are way too trusting.
Did you know her neighbour, Ethel, watches five hours of gameshows every day?
And Meg and Charlie really need to invest in some new Christmas decorations.
The ones they have stored up there are absolutely shit.
Oh, and don’t even get me started on Kevin at the end.
He was so grateful for the mural I painted in his bedroom, and the coke I gave him to help him through the day, he offered me a spare key so I could come and go as I pleased. Like I said... way too nice.”
“You fucking bastard,” he snarled. “I want that key. I want it now.”
“I don’t have it on me.”
I did. But I wasn’t going to give it up that easily.
“Then I’ll change his locks. I’ll change all the fucking locks. Not that you’ll be able to access her house that way again anyway. It’s getting bricked up.”
“Maybe not that way,” I replied. “But you know I have my ways.”
“For fuck’s sake. Enough,” he shouted, drawing the attention of the waiters and the few other patrons in the restaurant. “I’ve told you, this isn’t happening anymore. It’s over.”
I knew we weren’t getting anywhere fast. I also knew Alex was so stubborn he’d stay here all fucking night. So I decided to humour him.
“Fine. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll go to your rehab and I’ll leave you to self-implode in the little love-bubble you’re creating. By the way, does she know you have no intention of ever letting her leave?”
“I’m not gonna imprison her. What the fuck do you take me for?”
“Aren’t you? Damn, Alex. You’re getting boring in your old age.”
“I couldn’t give a shit what you think,” he snapped. “I want a shot at a normal life. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Not at all. But what do I know? You don’t care what I think. But let’s face facts, neither one of us is normal.”
“I’m done talking.” Alex stood up and watched, waiting for me to do the same.
“Looks like I’m taking a little holiday,” I announced, standing too, but doing it as slowly as I could for effect.
“You’re lucky that holiday isn’t being spent at the bottom of the canal.”
“I heard you loud and clear the first time, I’m so fucking lucky. I haven’t always been lucky though, have I?”
The way Alex froze in response told me he wasn’t prepared to take a trip down memory lane. Not when that lane was like walking on hot coals, laced with shards of glass, with some acid thrown down for good measure.
We headed out into the cold, dark night and I turned to face Alex as a driver held the door open to the car he wanted me to get into.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you soon. You’re gonna love the Milan show. Paris was a mind-fuck, but Milan...”
“I won’t be there,” he replied, ignoring my outstretched hand, refusing to shake it.
“You’re not coming to Italy?”
He stared back at me, blankly.
“No, I’m not. I’m not coming to anymore shows, and I won’t be buying any more pieces or investing any money. I’ll pay for your rehab, but after that, this,” he gestured between the two of us, “Is over.”
He went to walk away, but I called out, “Alex.”
As he turned around, I took the ring he’d given me off my finger and threw it at him.
He caught it, as I told him, “I won’t be needing that anymore. You don’t need to track me.”
“No, I don’t.” He slid the ring into his pocket. “I don’t need to see you ever again.” Then he walked away, getting into his car as I stood there, watching him.
“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” I muttered to myself. “It’ll take more than a few idle threats and a stint in rehab to get rid of me. I will be seeing you again very soon, Alex Kingston. You have my word.” And I climbed into the car and let it drive me away.