Survival (Twisted Book 1) Read online

  “I don’t like chestnuts,” I said as Thomas opened his mouth to order some. I turned to the woman running the stall. “He’ll have the chestnuts. I’ll have a churro with Nutella, please.”

  “Mmm…Nutella and you?” Thomas wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered in my ear. “Don’t lick your lips.”

  “Cinnamon,” I took a bite and offered him my mouth. He kissed me quickly and licked the sugar and cinnamon off his lips. “Cinnamon smells like Christmas.”

  I remembered making cinnamon biscuits with Grandma before she died. Oliver – I covered my heart with my hand – and I fought over what shape to cut them; he said they all had to be the same shape so they didn’t look messy on the tree. I should have let him pick the star, but I argued until he gave in and we cut them into hearts.

  We paid the woman and I tucked my hand in Thomas’ back pocket; he squashed me to him so he could hold me and eat his chestnuts.

  “No tinsel, okay? We’ll get a tree but I don’t like tinsel, and no moaning because I can't stand the needles on the floor.”

  “Deal,” He kissed the top of my head and I took another bite of my churro. “You’re the boss.”

  “You know it,” I bumped my hip into him as we continued browsing the stalls.

  I wanted to celebrate Christmas with Thomas. He was the only person I could be free with…besides – no. Thomas was my freedom. My magic. I couldn’t go through life miserable and I wouldn’t bring Thomas down. His excitement was contagious. I knew why, but it was something else I couldn’t allow to cross my mind.

  “Here,” Thomas handed me a glass of brandy and a slice of the olive bread we bought at the market.

  I thanked him and he set my legs over his as he sat down and pulled out a folder. We liked to turn the TV off and relax in the evening, just the two of us like it had always been.

  “What are you reading?” I asked.

  “Background on some fighters. There’s a title conference coming up and we’re covering the match. I thought I’d do some research on them.”

  “Who are they?”

  “A guy called Cyclone and Andy Mallone.”

  “Never heard of them.”

  “Why would you have?” He squeezed my leg and continued reading.

  “Yeah, right.” I looked down at my diary and tried to ignore the nauseating nostalgia that made my skin prickle.

  “Thomas?”

  I knew dropping my voice and massaging the inside of his thigh with my toes would grab his attention. It did. I parted my legs, inviting him closer and he took the opportunity, moving between them and dragging my nightdress up.

  It was time to forget.

  Twenty

  I could do it, I knew I could. I finally believed that I had the gumption to win this battle. I was going to be a champion.

  November 30th, 2009.

  “Skye!”

  I jumped when Nina yelled my name from her office; I shot out of my chair and smoothed my dress down as I scurried along the short hallway. I checked my nail polish and touched my hair to feel for grease. I thought I was fine.

  “Yes, Nina?” I asked stepping into her office and seeing a stressed Nina pacing the floor. She marched so furiously I was sure she’d leave tracks in the carpet. “Everything okay?”

  “No.”

  She continued pacing, continuously smoothing down her suit jacket, but there wasn’t a crease in sight.

  I stood with my hands behind my back and waited. Eventually she stepped behind her desk, sighed and sagged in her chair.

  “Can you go and get me a coffee?” She mumbled, tossing her glasses onto her keyboard and pinching the bridge of her nose. “And bring your diary back with you.”

  I nodded and rushed out of the office.

  “You okay?” Amanda asked when I fell into the coffee room and began putting together Nina’s order.

  “Something’s up with Nina. I think I’ve done something wrong.”

  Amanda winced; we’d seen people after they’d felt her wrath. Most of them left in tears or as white as a ghost.

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, tell me that when I'm out on my ass.”

  “Good luck.”

  She gave my shoulder a squeeze as I turned to leave. I struggled to walk fast enough back to my desk without spilling the coffee. I grabbed my diary and as I hurried back to her office, I prayed she wouldn’t mind the multiple sticky notes that hung from the pages. Her PA, Erika, had been adding to my to-do list for weeks. Maybe I’d forgotten to do something she’d asked. I shoved it under my arm and opened the door. Nina was massaging the back of her neck and staring at her computer screen when I placed her coffee in front of her and sat down.

  “Have you booked flights before?” She asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Meeting rooms? Meetings with clients? Have you spoken with our advertisers? Photographers? Printers?”

  “I have before, yes.”

  She held out her hand for my diary as she inspected her cappuccino and I handed it to her. She flicked through the pages, reading my notes.

  “You look organised.”

  “I am.”

  When I first got promoted to office manager, Thomas gave me some pointers on prioritising and organising, so I was confident.

  “Right,” she slammed the diary on the desk and I watched the post-its hang on for dear life. “Here’s the deal.” She chose that moment to take a sip of coffee. “Erika is leaving. Her boyfriend is relocating to Leeds and she’s going with him. You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Ah, yes. Thomas Radley,” she purred and swooned in her seat. “That’s fine.”

  Would it not have been fine if it was someone other than Thomas?

  “What do you need?” I asked, preparing to step up.

  “A PA…I want you.”

  I didn’t see that coming. Through her stress, Nina smiled at my shock.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Erika can take over the office until she leaves and Penelope will find a replacement. I want you working with me.”

  “Wow. Thank you.”

  “Go,” she waved me away and turned back to her screen. “Erika will be back shortly and you can swap schedules. She’s messy, so you’ll have to get a new diary and sort it out. I've got printers running late, next week’s cover still not decided and a load of article proofs for you to filter through.”

  I got up shakily from the chair and headed back to my desk. I was Nina Bertolli’s personal assistant. Ring the bell…another round to Skye the Skillet.

  “Thomas?”

  I dropped my bag on the floor and followed the pheromone trail that told me Thomas was already home. I found him in the kitchen, rummaging in the drawer.

  “It’s on the sideboard,” I said knowing he was looking for the corkscrew.

  He turned and smiled at me like he always did – a smile that made my heart beat a little faster.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he strode towards me and wrapped me in his strong arms. “How was your day?”

  “Perfect, actually,” I tiptoed and kissed him quickly. “Will you open the wine while I go and shower? I have some news.”

  “Good news?” He gave me a once-over but seemed satisfied when I nodded confidently.

  “Great news,” I kissed him again. I just couldn’t get enough. “I won't be long.”

  We sat on the floor by the coffee table sipping our wine after dinner.

  “Will you tell me now?”

  Thomas had asked all through dinner for the news, but I made him wait. It was still sinking in. It was exactly what I wanted; to be at the top of my profession.

  “Mm hm,” I took another steadying mouthful of wine. “I got promoted.”

  “You did?” he didn’t seem surprised.

  “I did. I am now, well, as of Monday, Nina’s PA.”

  He lunged at me, encasing me in a celebratory hug that sent us back onto the floor
. He hooked his leg over both of mine and shifted so he was straddling me. He took my face tenderly in his hands.

  “That’s my girl,” he leaned down and kissed me; slowly, sensually, reverently. “I knew you could do it.”

  “I’m really excited about it. I didn’t see it coming.”

  “I did,” he sat back and grinned down at me. “It’ll be tough. I know how hard I work Trisha and I’m a kitten compared to Nina. But you deserve this. I’m proud of you.”

  I sat up to rest on my forearms as he leaned down and we were nose to nose.

  “Thank you.”

  “Oliver would be proud of you.”

  We both looked down as Thomas’ fingers found my palms and our hands danced together. His hands were warm, always warm, like his heart, and they felt soft against mine as if we were both embracing the magic Oliver had blessed us with. I had no doubt that he brought Thomas and I together. He protected me when I was fragile and now that I was stronger, he was cheering me on. He showed me every day that I was worth something, that everything that had happened hadn’t been in vain.

  “I love you,” I whispered, looking from our entwined hands as they twirled and caressed, to his eyes that sparkled with the pride and love he professed.

  “I love you, too,” he said. “And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I’m taking you shopping this weekend.”

  “You’re taking me shopping?”

  He raised his eyebrows with a smirk, “Yes. Is there a problem with that? My beautiful PA should have a new closet full of clothes to start her new job on Monday.”

  “Dresses?” He nodded. “Underwear?” He nodded, licking his lips and glancing quickly at my chest. “Heels?”

  “Definitely heels,” he ran his hands down my legs to my feet and lifted them to lock my ankles on his back. “I’m picking out the heels.”

  My pulse quickened; I felt it thumping in my neck. I loved it when we had sex with me wearing nothing but a pair of heels. Thomas knew how to make me feel like a woman; safe, desired and loved.

  “Deal.”

  “Deal. I’ll just need an extra-large coffee before we begin the ordeal.”

  I rolled my eyes but before I could think of something smart to say, he lowered his hand and blew a raspberry on my neck. My arms and legs flailed and I shrieked and shrilled as I tried to shove him off me, but eventually, I succumbed to the willpower of the man on top of me and let him have the unrestrained giggled he was the looking for. My laugh was one that sounded like a besotted princess enjoying her beloved prince. I was that besotted princess, totally devoted to my beloved prince.

  It wasn’t long ago that I was the lonely poor girl, searching for something that didn’t want to be found…

  Twenty One

  Everyone moves on. Sooner or later, everyone forgets. I just wasn’t expecting them to disappear altogether.

  August, 2003.

  Summer was coming to an end. The days were getting shorter and the already torturous nights would just get longer.

  I’d done a little travelling like Curtis said. I had been to the Spanish coast and sipped Rioja while watching families enjoying their summer holidays in the sun. I went to the South of France and picked at croissants while I watched couples relaxing on the beach, just enjoying their time together. And I had been to Rome and watched friends enjoying the beautiful surroundings as I savoured gelato. Every place I went to reminded me that I was alone. All of those experiences should have been shared with another; a friend, a family member, a partner. I had none of those things.

  I flew back from Italy when I’d had enough and managed to hide in the tower block for a couple of weeks. That was coming to an end, too.

  “What are you going to do?” Beth asked when she called.

  “I have no idea,” I sighed. “The eviction notice was dated while I was away. I have to move out in September.”

  “Do you want to come and stay with me? Just until you find your feet.”

  There was a pause. She was offering because she felt like she had to. I didn’t like pity; despised it, in fact.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got time to sort something out.”

  “Are you sure? I can send you some money for a train ticket.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll call you when I’ve found somewhere and we’ll arrange a visit.”

  “Sounds good,” I heard a door open and close and the sound of giggling girls wafted through the phone. “I’ve got to go. Keep me posted. Love you.”

  She hung up the phone before I could tell her I loved her too.

  I couldn’t sit in an empty flat twiddling my thumbs, knowing Curtis was just down the road. I tried, I really tried, but I missed him. His presence. I just missed him. I could pretend I wasn’t trembling with overwhelming desire when he was near, but I needed him. He needed me too. I convinced myself, while I was away and staring at the four walls of my hotel room, that he did what he did to protect me, because eventually he would break my heart. He couldn’t. I had nothing left to break.

  The taxi pulled up outside Geoff’s Gym and I climbed out. I knew straight away that something was wrong. The energy, the pull that drew me in to the building in a car park, was gone.

  “Excuse me?” I called to the man with his back to me, locking the door.

  “Can I ‘elp you, love?”

  He turned to face me. It was Geoff. I had seen his pictures on the walls in the office with some of the great names in mixed martial arts. Curtis was right; he did have a weird cockney accent.

  “You’re closed?”

  “We are,” he dropped his gaze to his worn Timberland boots and I watched him force a recovery.

  “When are you back open?”

  “We won't be op’nin’ again,” I saw the sadness in his eyes and the defeat in his sallow skin. “What d’ya need?”

  “Uh-” I searched for something, anything. “A friend of mine wants to start training…Why are you closing?”

  I pulled my denim jacket tight around me as I watched his eyes glass over.

  “We were a team,” he stared off into the distance and started walking. I walked next to him and kept my eyes on his ashen face. “It’s like the foundation of me gym. When one falls, everything falls. We lost one of our boys in January. We tried to carry on, but the magic was gone. We can't carry on without ‘im, so we’re shutting down.”

  I stopped walking. I froze. They stopped training for Oliver. All of them. But I’d watched them train; I’d seen the magic, Oliver’s magic. In all of them. I didn’t understand; I thought it fuelled their passion.

  “Y’alright, love?” I nodded as my mind raced with confusion. “What d’ya say ya name was?”

  “Pamela,” I lied, forcing myself to function. “I’m sorry about your fighter. Good luck.”

  I nodded my goodbye and headed in the opposite direction.

  “Pamela?” I turned around, thinking I’d been caught. “Tell ya mate there’s a couple gyms just outside town.”

  “Thanks.”

  I walked away, void of emotion, but almost satisfied that I had punished myself a little more by using my mother’s name.

  Twenty Two

  I hated the thought of not being home. I hated the thought of returning back, to find him gone. And I hated the thought that he would get in after work and wonder if I’d be out…again.

  December 18th, 2009.

  “Nina,” I sighed, “I’ve been putting this off for weeks.”

  I was in one of my panics after being summoned to Nina’s office. I knew why and I was dreading it. My professional life was planned to the minute; I was the epitome of organisation and control. My personal life, not so much. It was a disaster and it was my job’s fault. Thomas and I had been trying to go Christmas shopping for weeks, but I cancelled time and time again. I blamed the fact that while he was the boss, I had a boss, but it was gradually losing its validity.

  “What’s another night, then?” Nina wiggled her eyebrows in
a silent challenge and the wicked look in her eyes got me.

  “Last time. Seriously, last time.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” she waved her hand, dismissing me.

  I sighed. I had to learn to say no; it was both my greatest asset and biggest flaw. I really did just want to go home. I wanted to eat dinner with Thomas, finish the wine in front of the fire listening to Keane and climb into bed.

  He wouldn’t be surprised to find me not home.

  “Come on, sour puss,” Penelope called between our cubicles. I sat down, furiously rubbing my temples. I had a stress headache.

  “You know why she’s doing this, don’t you?”

  “Of course…Am I complaining? No.”

  I shook my head and logged out of my computer.

  Nina’s husband had just left her. I had no idea she was married, until she sent me to collect the divorce papers. She had just become a divorcee, at fifty-two. Days before Christmas.

  She was married to her job, not to the man who waited up for her most nights to find she’d fallen asleep at the office.

  As we left the offices of Poise, I thought about the man waiting for me. I checked my watch. He would be just getting home. He would call my name from the bottom of the stairs, thinking I’d be in the bedroom getting changed. But he wouldn’t get an answer. I was on my way out, again, so Nina didn’t feel alone. I felt sorry for her, but I couldn’t help wondering why she could go for dinner with us, but couldn’t go with her husband when she had one.

  Thomas and I both had hectic jobs, but we worked because we both fought for it. I was working seventy-hour weeks over the Christmas period as Poise funnelled winter fashion advice, gift ideas and celebrity gossip into the greedy hands of the female population, and Thomas was busier than ever as titles in every sport were being played for. Our quality time together had gone from dinners at our favourite restaurant and nights in front of the fire, to reaching for the same slice of toast as it popped up and feeling lucky if we brushed our teeth at the same time in the morning.