Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Rosie

I’d seenpictures of Peter, but people always seem to look different in person. He was short, and thick set, with huge shoulders and some really impressive biceps on him showing through his t-shirt. His eyes were a lovely deep blue and his stubble was rough, which suited him. I’d heard plenty of stories about how fun he was from Lola, and how loud his laugh was, but I could tell as he shook Julian’s hand that he was anxious, as though he was at a job interview rather than coming to hang out with some new friends. I saw then what Lola had been talking about. The world of Dine’s Green must have put him through a hell of a lot of judgement and heartache.

Julian tried to make him feel right at home as soon as we’d made our introductions and Lola had pulled me in for a hug. Lola was the counter to him right now, excited and buzzing, commenting on how cool everything was as she stepped into our living room.

“I love your sofa!” she said, pointing to our old one, and I grinned at her.

“Me too.”

“It’s not all that great to sit on,” Julian chuckled.

“Can I try it out?” Lola asked, and Julian gestured with a smile.

“Be our guest, since you are one.”

She dropped down and bounced her butt on it, rearranging the brocade cushions behind her as Peter hovered, awkward, watching her. He was beaming, though. She had him transfixed as a partner, and that was obvious. No surprise though, as she looked amazing, with two braids, tied up with purple ribbon. Her dress was purple to match, and she had big black boots on, at odds with her long, skinny legs. She always looked fantastic. No wonder Peter had gone crazy for her. For her looks as well as her mind.

“This sofa is absolutely great,” Lola said. “You’re being harsh.”

“Most likely,” Julian replied, and then he slapped Peter kindly on the shoulder. “What would you like? Tea? Coffee? Wine? Whisky? How about you, Lola? What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a wine if there’s one going, please,” she said.

“Of course. Red or white?”

“White, please.”

Julian looked at Peter again, and I adored the way his eyes were so caring, trying his best to put our new friend at ease. “And you, Peter?”

“I’ll have a whisky, please.”

“And wine for you, sweetheart?” Julian asked me, knowing full well I’d say yes. I was coming to enjoy it more and more.

He walked over to the kitchen and invited Peter to accompany him to choose from the selection of whiskies he had on the shelf. I sat next to Lola and grinned at her. It felt weird but amazing to have visitors in this place. The first time it had ever happened.

“Julian’s really hot,” she whispered. “He’s not all that far off from one of the cover guys. I could make a really good version of him. He’s going to age even better. Grey hair will really suit him.”

It would, yeah. He was in his usual kind of suit, and no matter how many times I saw him in them, they always drove me crazy. He was looking less lean in them now. Filling out nicely – no doubt because of the fantastic dinners he was sharing with me.

“Peter looks great, too,” I told her. “He’s got that rough kind of stubble which makes him look hardcore.”

“He’s always hardcore, and he always looks great, but he’s so edgy tonight. Kind of assumes everyone judges him and hates him wherever he goes. He’s not like it at all when it’s just me and him. He’s funny and confident, and a beast in the bedroom, and it’s so shit to see the effect the world has on him. It’s like he feels he’s some kind of criminal, even now.”

I knew what she was talking about. I could still feel the sense down deep in Julian that he saw himself as a pervert who didn’t deserve anything nice in life anymore, but he was coming to terms with it. Slowly. I could see him glowing a little bit brighter every day, people’s stares deflected more easily. But Julian’s story around here was different. He’d been through much worse than here when he was cast out and banished from Oxford. Crenham was just the dessert after a mega rancid main course. To Peter, Dine’s Green must still mean a lot. Everything.

“Do you ever think about moving away and starting over?” I asked her.

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it, a lot, but I don’t want to leave Mum. And college. It’s just not right yet.”

I heard some laughter from the kitchen from both Julian and Peter, and Peter seemed a little more comfortable when they came back through to the living room. Julian handed over our wines before sitting down on our new sofa to the side.

“Cheers to us,” Julian said. “Partners in crime, the whole sorry group of us.”

“Here’s to friends, finally. Or I hope so,” Lola said in return, and looked over at Peter, sitting happily alongside Julian.

It didn’t take long to find out that we could very much be friends, all four of us. Conversation flowed easily for two couples who’d only just met. Lola shared Julian’s dry, sarcastic sense of humour and they were laughing like they’d known each other for years within minutes, and that loosened Peter up, loads, I could see it. I chipped in with laughter and comments, but I loved being an observer. I stared at my partner enjoying himself socially, and got my first real insight into how he must have been in Oxford, before his life fell apart. He was socially charming, and confident, curious and interested in what people were saying. It made my heart glow.

And it made my heart glow more when I saw the way Peter’s shoulders loosened as he shared stories, and the way Lola was grinning at him so happily. And it made my heart glow when she squeezed my knee, acknowledging in one simple gesture that things were going well.

“Time to get the steaks on,” Julian said after a while, and he gave Peter another slap on the shoulder as he got up. “Fancy joining me? We can try another whisky while it sizzles.”

“Sure thing. I’ll peel the spuds, if you like.”

Lola turned to me the moment they were out of view.

“This is epic, thank you. Seriously, I haven’t seen him like this when we’re out since it all blew up. It’s great to see him chill. He needs it.”

“So does Julian.”

“What about you?” she asked. “You must need it, too. You’re getting loads of shit too around here.”

I shrugged as I got a revelation. I was getting loads of shit, sure, but I wasn’t feeling it driving into my ribcage anymore. I barely noticed the whispers at college, and everyone could fuck off if they jeered at me on the way home. I’d never really given a toss about what anyone thought, because I didn’t really get on with anyone. I didn’t care about anyone. Not outside of Mum. Finally, being an unpopular loner had its benefits.

“I’m alright actually,” I said. “I just hate being without Mum.”

“Your family is pretty small, isn’t it?”

“My family is just Mum. Or it was, before Julian came along.” I took another sip of wine. “So, there you go. Nobody to give a stuff about. I’m the lucky one out of the lot of us.”

“What about Jayden? Scottie’s son? You cared about him, didn’t you?”

I did get a pang at that. An oversight.

“He’s keeping his distance. He probably despises me now his dad’s gone.”

“I bet he misses him. No matter what his dad did. I mean, his dad is his dad, right? I hope that my mum still loves me under the surface, no matter what choices I’ve made. And you must feel the same about yours. So, Jayden is going to miss his dad, isn’t he? No matter what an utter piece of shit he is.”

“Yeah.”

She was right on that. Scottie could have set the world on fire, and Jayden’s loyalty would never fade. It could be buried, and fought, and Jayden could kick and scream, and tell his dad what an utter asshole he was, but it wouldn’t stop the love. Jayden would always forgive him.

I only hoped it would be the same for Lola and me. And for Peter, too. I hoped family always came back. Loyal, even when they hated the choices we’d made.

And what about Julian?

I got a tickle of unease at that thought. Like a ghost of a wave up my back.

“What?” Lola said, reading me.

“I was just wondering,” I said, with the wine loosening my tongue. “Since we’re so hopeful that our families will forgive us one day, surely Julian must be, too.”

“I would guess so. He must miss them like hell. He has kids, and a granddaughter. Didn’t you say he has a brother, too?”

“Michael, yeah.”

“Has he reached out to them?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Not that I know of. He doesn’t think there’s any point, because they’ll never forgive him. He was never going to forgive himself.”

“But then he met you. And he’s feeling a bit different now. He must be. He looks really happy. You should be proud.”

That made me grin, happy that I’d been able to help him feel happy like that. “Yeah, you’re right. I do feel proud.”

“Do you think he’ll try reaching out to them, now that he’s feeling a bit better? The worst they can do is shout and scream some more.”

I got another tickle again, like a ghost as she carried on talking.

“Imagine how much easier things would be for him if they ever did forgive him. Oxford might welcome him back, eventually. One day.”

I had a weird contradiction in my gut at that. I’d be ecstatic for him, I really would, but if he had that kind of choice… to return to Oxford and his life there… or stay here, in Crenham, with me… which would he choose? Would his family ever be able to accept him being with me, even if they did forgive him? I doubted that. But if he left me. If he chose them…

Would I want him to choose them? Could I be that selfless?

I’d always hoped Mum would choose me over her partners. Maybe Julian’s children would feel like that, too…

Lola seemed to sense my nerves.

“Don’t worry. He’s not going to ditch you. No way. He’s absolutely besotted with you. You can see it. He looks at you like you’re his meaning for living.”

That hit a nerve, remembering the goodbye letters.

“Right now, I guess I am.”

“I don’t think that’s going to fade any time this century.”

“It definitely isn’t going to change for me.” I smiled. “He’s so amazing, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

She leant in close, with a giggle. “Put your own whisk inside you?”

I laughed with a shh. “I don’t think it would feel the same somehow. I won’t be trying it.”

“I might be trying it with a whisk,” she said. “You inspired me. And Peter, too. He said it sounded hot as fuck.”

It felt bizarre in that moment, Peter being here, knowing Julian and I intimately enough to be able to imagine me spread open on this very sofa with a whisk stretching my pussy open. But then, was it? Was it that weird for friends? I hadn’t any experience to judge it by.

I knew a billion things about what Peter had done to Lola. Handcuffing her and whipping her with a cable. Slapping her thighs over and over with a wooden paddle. I wondered if she had bruises up her thighs tonight. I had marker pen on mine under my dress, spelling out dirty bitch.

I listened out some more to the conversation from the kitchen. The words were nothing but mumbles, but the laughter wasn’t. Lola was right. Peter’s laugh was loud, and definitely getting more confident.

Lola took a swig of her wine before she spoke next.

“Think Julian will let me read some of his chapters after dinner? I’d love that.”

“Hopefully. Ask him after he’s had a few more whiskies.”

“Does he doubt his writing that much? That he wouldn’t want to show it off? He didn’t want to show you the thrillers at first, did he?”

“No, not at first. But he’s getting more used to handing over his writing for me to take a look at. He’s getting more proud of his work. I see it every day.”

“Is he writing other stuff as well, or just the dirty scenes for you?”

I’d been wondering about that. He always had one chapter written for me after college, without fail, but I know what he’d said before, when talking about the writing process. He said it ate you up a lot of the time when the words started flowing, and they wouldn’t stop. You were possessed for hours. I’m sure one chapter that good would take a long time to get so perfect, but I didn’t know… I just felt like there might be something more he wasn’t showing me yet… maybe another thriller. Who knew?

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’d love him to try publishing again. His work is too good not to.”

“Thrillers?”

“I guess so.”

“Or dirtier? Erotica?”

I smirked. “He’d be an absolute beast at erotica.”

“Hopefully I’ll find out for myself later. He doesn’t seem shy. Not around us, anyway.”

When I heard another of Peter’s comfortable roars of laughter from the kitchen, and Julian’s chuckle alongside it, and the clink of a fresh toast of whisky, I was pretty sure she would get to read some of it.

I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.