Belonging Part III (5 page)

Without hesitation, I leave them and head back to our room.

I can hear Mum calling after me saying something about having dinner first. She must be senile. Does she think that after the way she treated me, I class her as important?

As I approach the door, I head straight for the side table. I’m not sure why I never saw it before. I rip the cream envelope and take out the note.

Emergency got to go.

Will be in Paris till Friday.

Call me when you get up.

Love, Roy.

I read it twice while I head back to the living room trying to comprehend what it means and if there’s a double meaning behind it.
Gosh, Deborah it’s not a mathematical problem.
It’s a simple message saying call me. I pick up the phone, then I remember my skeletons in the closet are waiting upstairs and I decide to return to them. I don’t feel like it especially after I dressed up and everything specifically for him.
Not them.

His message is clear he has a business meeting. I wish he’d told me. I would have loved to have gone with him. The thought of eating French food and sipping French wine feels more appealing than sitting down and listening to them. I slump into the cream sofa and decide that I need to hear what they have to say.

“About yesterday,” Mum starts as I watch her shift her weight in the chair. She has on a blue shift dress that’s obviously one size too small as her bulges are clearly sticking out around the side.

“Yes, yesterday,” Grandma continues.

I wish someone would just come out with it.

Maybe, I should’ve called Roy if they were going to act like children in the headmaster’s office while trying to think of a good excuse for their behaviour. They could have talked to me, not just thrown me out.

I get up to do whatever Roy seems to do when there’s a discussion. I head to the bar and pour myself a Royal salute. My fingers trace the bottle as I think about the rich, subtle taste passing my lips and into my mouth. Roy’s a bad influence in too many ways. As I gulp the liquid down and close my eyes for a brief second, forgetting that I have an audience while Grandma waves for me to sit with them.

I slouch at the idea. I put the bottle away and I join them. This is going to be a long night, especially if they never seem to get past the word yesterday.

Yesterday, you ignored me.

Yesterday, you threw me out.

Yesterday, we all know what happened yesterday – get on with it!

“So, yesterday you decided money was more important than family. I get it,” I blurt out and then take another gulp of the scotch.

They look at me bewildered. I’m unclear if it’s because of my bluntness or my confidence. Either way they seem to fidget for a bit more, and as I look at Betty she’s simply smiling at me.

Is it a victory smile or is something else going on inside her head?

“No, we just know that... well you would be better off here so you can get everything you deserve,” Grandma tries to explain. As if that’s any sort of explanation as to why they didn’t allow me inside the flat? For crying out loud, they shut the door in my face!

I slam my glass on the table about to make my exit when Betty smirks.

“Oh, your phone is beeping dear.” I forgot that I brought it with me when I was contemplating whether to call Roy or not. I stretch to get it from the table. I read the new text message.

Roy: U up sleepyhead?

He loves calling me that.

Me: Yep

Roy: The witches of Tulse Hill there?

I sigh as I think about where he is and where I am at the moment. I look up and all eyes are on me. Betty changes the subject again. They start talking about one of the former residents of the estate. That was probably what they were discussing before I came in.

Me: Never been to Paris

Roy: Deal with the witches and come.

Me: Really? Tonight?

Roy: Whenever you want.

I smile at the last message. This Roy is new and improved and I sure can get used to it. I’m too busy smiling and thinking about Paris when Grandma interrupts my train of thought.

“We knew why you came. It didn’t seem right, so we thought it was best to do what we did. You’re welcome to come back anytime. I’m so sorry, Deborah,” she states. She has tears in her eyes and it seems genuine. I can’t get over the feeling that this is down to money, otherwise, they would have let me at least enter the flat.

“Betty can you leave us a moment?” Mum questions as she moves closer to me on the sofa.

Great another talk.

Can anything they say excuse their behaviour yesterday? Or over the last three years and the money that Roy has sent, where the hell did it all go? Wasn’t their own flesh and blood more important than money – well obviously not, because that’s how they treated me, like shit!

As Betty shuts the door as she leaves. I wait patiently for them to say what’s really going on.

“Your father, I was a fool as far as he was concerned and I abandoned you all your life because of him.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

She fidgets some more before continuing. “He left me in a lot of debt—”

“No, you let him put you in a lot of debt,” I correct her. She isn’t going to blame him for all her problems. Then, it hits me like a ton of bricks. “So, it was never a rumour. You invested in his business after he left?”

Tears swell up in her eyes as she nods. “I owed a lot of money. Too much in fact. Bailiffs came to take things from the flat, I couldn’t pay back the loan or the credit cards.”

“How much?” I ask because it’s all starting to make sense now.

“That doesn’t matter. I lost the flat, got depressed and never told anyone the real reason why I left Tesco’s or lost the flat. Until one day a letter was forwarded to mum and I confessed.”

“That fucking bastard!” I yell as I jump up. I start to pace up and down thinking about all the things I want to do to him.

“So your mum told me about what happened. I had saved the money Roy, no Mr Sparks had been sending for you and put it away. When, I found out about your mum, I—”

“Cleared the debt!” I finished my scotch and go to pour another glass.

“I sent you a little at uni, you remember?” Grandma asks trying to reassure me that they have had my best interest at heart. Sure, she sent me a bit of money, but I thought they just sent it as a gift.

“What about Spain and Canary islands? Those holidays you went on?” I throw at them. “Mum’s new clothes? Where did all that money come from?”

“We always go on a family holiday each year. Deborah, you think we used your money to do that? We asked you, you always said you were studying or working.”

True, they did ask and I bailed out. I was either studying or working.  Each year my books just seemed to get more expensive or I needed materials.  There was always something I had to study for or buy on the course.

“My clothes, well I’ve got a new job, dear. In a new boutique and because of that I had to change my look.”

“What about the new furniture in your flat? The sofa, TV, etc.”

Grandma stands up in shock at my accusations. “I never touched your money. I bought them. What is it with you? You don’t trust us?” she asks. “Look, I stood by you. Without me, you wouldn’t be here in your fancy dress,” she puffs out before sitting down again, defeated and upset about the whole event.

“She’s right, mum. What we did was wrong. We should have told you what was going on. We didn’t know any better. Just one thing, if we had sat down and spoken to you about it, would you have come back?”

I shake my head, then I nod, confused about the whole thing. I forgave Roy and he did something far worse. They’re my family, should I give them another chance? I can’t look at them as I try to gather my thoughts. My phone beeps and Betty enters the room.

Roy: When should I book a flight?

I put my phone back down. Too many emotions are flowing through me in a short space of time. I need to deal with one and then I can focus on the other.

“So, are we ready to have dinner?” Betty blurts out as she barges through the room.

I shrug, grab my glass and get the bottle and make my way to the dining room. After they’re gone, I’ll call Roy and have a conversation about going to Paris. Now, I just want the witches gone.

“L
adies, no one’s perfect, I know I’m far from it,” Betty shouts across the table. Someone has to say something because we sat through the first course in total silence. Grandma’s angry by my attitude. Mum’s in two minds about her behaviour and me on the way to getting borderline drunk. I’m way past tipsy.

“I’ll drink to that,” I screech as I raise my glass and empty it once again.

“That’s enough!” Betty nods as she adjusts her hair.

“Your family loves you. They did things the wrong way and they’ve apologized. I’ve been on the phone to Kate all day about this. No harm done. Let’s have a toast and let bygones be bygones.”

Strange someone saying grandma’s name.  She’s normally known as grandma or mum.  Everyone looks at me. I squirm while trying to think about the way I was treated and putting it all into context and then, hopefully, in the past. My thoughts yesterday was that they did it because of money. Now, it is a different reason, but what they did was still wrong.

“Kwame never cared about me. He used me from day one. Mr Sparks wants to look after you. What mother wouldn’t want that for their daughter? I hope when you’re older you will understand,” she sighs with regret. It’s obvious I’m being pig headed. I go round the table and kiss them one by one. Even Betty. Mum’s words mean so much to me. The fact that she’s apologising for her ways. Grandma has given me a wake-up call. I’m accusing a woman, who looked after me from a baby. The one who was our rock. The one I used to go to whenever I had a problem.

As Betty said, no one’s perfect and after a hug, we drink, I only drink water followed by coffee to sober up.  The vibe changes and we end the night completely different from how it started. It feels so surreal having them in the house, and as I kiss them goodnight and close the door. I know there’s only one person I need to speak to and that’s Roy.

“S
o, why do you call them the witches of Tulse Hill?”

“Joke, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I ask flirting back. It feels like one of those late-night booty calls.

“I want to see you?”

I bet you do! “I want to see you too.”

“No, I meant now. Put the Mac on and get on Skype.”

“Oh.”

I hang up and run to the study and put the Mac on. I try to straighten my hair and then I click on the Skype icon. He rings as soon as I put it on. I smile as I see his tired face, his hair’s rummaged and he appears stressed. There are lines under his eyes.

“Stressed?” I say as I see his face. I feel sad knowing he’s not in a good place and I’m not there to comfort him.

“Not anymore. You look beautiful, turn around.”

I get up and twirl around. I smile at him as he looks happy to see me. He has his shirt open and a glass of scotch in his hand. I go to the side table and grab mine.

“Cheers,” we say as we both sip our drinks. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

“I can see,” he laughs, “You’re drinking scotch.”

The whore he’s turned me into starts doing a strip tease. Without being prompted, I put my glass on top of the desk. I turn with my back to him and start to take off my dress. I face him and then I turn to reveal my black lace bra and matching thong.

“Don’t take your heels off.”

What is it with men and heels?

I wait for my next instruction. Panting, seeing his eyes enlarge at the sight of me. “One leg on the desk and slowly take your bra off.”

I put the tip of the shoe on his desk. My leg is fully in sight as he can practically see inside my pussy as I push the button on his desk to increase the lighting in the room. Shit, I feel hot doing this. I’m starting to get wet just watching him sitting there, with his hand releasing his demon. My breasts pulse while my breathing increases and my nipples harden as I wait for further instructions.

“Take it off,” he commands, each time sipping a little bit of his scotch. His eyes darken each time as I follow his instructions.

I unclip my bra my breasts are released like a bird trapped in a cage.  My bra falls to the floor. Free to do as they please and now they intend to please, Roy. He loosens his trousers and his limp dick becomes fully erect. I gasp at the sight of it. Sure, it’s not the first time I’ve seen it, but seeing it react to me makes every part of me come alive. I slowly slip my fingers inside my walls one at a time.

“Use your other hand to caress your breast slowly, just the way I do it,” he says. “Look what you’re making me do.” His thick cock that’s normally inside me and that I’m missing so much is being stroked with his hand. Without my mouth to suck it or my pussy to pump it, it feels out of place. I start pretending that my fingers are his cock as it flicks up and down while he starts to pump it in front of me. The more he pumps it the more I imagine it inside me. I rub my breasts using the palm of my hand while my nipples harden and thicken.

I push one, two, and then three fingers inside my walls as my wetness starts running over them. I need to cum with him as I can see he’s getting more excited. His eyes fixate on me as our pleasure intensifies. I flop back on his leather chair exhausted by the intensity of my orgasm. I lick my lips as cum spills over his trousers.

“I need to clean up,” he smirks looking down at his dick. “Be ready by seven. Henry will be there to bring you here. Night, sweet dreams.”

I blow him a kiss as I put my fingers in my mouth and grin at him.

“You’re a bad girl! Get some sleep.”

I wave unable to speak and fulfilled knowing I can make him cum without even being in the same room. Then, I log off.

I wash my hands and get ready for bed. I inhale the sheets hoping to still smell Roy on them. I want to have sweet dreams of him and I start to think of ways to please him even more in Paris. He won’t know what hits him!