Butterfly (21 page)

I shake my head. ‘Even if you
think you can wait for me to get through this, it’s not fair on
you. I’m just too messed up to be able to give you what you want.
To have a proper relationship with you.’

‘Don’t I get to decide what’s
fair for me? Grace—’

‘No, please don’t say anything.
It will just make it harder.’ My eyes sting with tears. ‘You know
it and I know it. I...I.’ I search for the words that are going to
break a little piece of my heart. ‘I just can’t do this. Us. It’s
never going to work.’ I can’t bear to look at him anymore. ‘Please,
just go.’

He stands up. Rubs his hand over
his face as he shakes his head. ‘OK, if that’s what you want.’

‘I do.’ I keep my gaze locked on
the wooden floorboards so I don’t have to see the hurt on his face.
This is the way it has to be. He deserves someone so much better
than me.

42

BEN

I run through the dark night, my
heart crushing my chest as I pound the pavements. I weave through
the drunken groups of people spilling out of the pubs and clubs in
town and head…who knows where? I’m just running to get rid of this
nauseas feeling. Maybe I’m trying to outrun myself.

This is all my fault. I
shouldn’t have pushed her. Should never have kissed her in the
first place. What the fuck was I thinking, letting my own feelings
get in the way? I’m a selfish bastard. I thought I could help her,
but I’ve just caused more damage.

When I get to the river, I stop,
staring at the black expanse of water. I bend over and rest my
hands on my knees until my ragged gasps of breath calm down.

Thoughts pound in my head. Does
this mean we can’t be friends anymore, either? It will kill me to
stay away from her, but if this is what she needs, I have to
respect it. I have to keep my distance, and just hope that one day
she’ll change her mind. Even if she doesn’t want me now, I can wait
for her. I’ll wait forever if I have to. It’s time to stop thinking
of myself for a change.

And if I never feel anything
ever again, I’ll always remember how her hands all over my body
make my heart melt inside.

43

GRACE

I let the tears fall until there
are no more left. I thought I was ready. Wanted to be ready. But
Ben pressing into me brought it all back. The fear, the pain, the
helplessness.

I’ll never be ready so there’s
only one thing for it. He has to be free to meet someone he can
have a full relationship with, even if it kills me inside. I can’t
hold him back from the happiness he deserves. I just hope we can
stay friends.

I toss and turn all night,
missing him already. Ben’s scent is all over the sheets and I bury
my face in them. The temptation to phone him or text him is
overwhelming, but I have to be strong. I have to let him go. Let
him get on with his life instead of wasting time trying to help
me.

At five a.m., I give up trying
to sleep and get out of bed, wondering whether I should go to Ben’s
self-defence class at the gym today. I’ve done so much work for it,
I don’t want to miss it, but can I face him now? Still, we’ll have
to see each other at the coffee shop tomorrow, anyway. Unless he
hands in his notice, which is probably quite possible now. My
stomach churns at the thought of never seeing him again.

I write in my journal for a
couple of hours. Then I get dressed in my gym gear and head for the
class before I can change my mind.

It’s almost about to start by
the time I get there. Ben stands at the front of the class with his
back to me, so I sneak in and sit down, forcing a smile at some of
the other women. A few of them check him out, mentally undressing
him with their eyes. I’ve seen it before, plenty of times, and I’m
not surprised. He’s amazing to look at; swarthy features, thick
brown hair, mesmerizing eyes with lashes I’d die for, and a body to
make any woman drool. But this time a twinge of jealousy tugs at my
insides, because every other woman except me
could
sleep
with him, and I just can’t go there.

He grabs some body padding from
the corner of the room and puts it on. It makes him look like the
Michelin Man, but he’ll be the one getting hit today, so I guess he
needs it.

He must feel my eyes on him and
glances over. He gives me a brief smile before addressing the
class.

‘OK, ladies, I need a volunteer
to help demonstrate some moves.’ Ben looks around, and the feisty
elderly woman from the first week puts her hand up.

‘Uh-oh, I’m going to be in
serious trouble, aren’t I?’ He beckons her up to the front of the
class.

She gives him a devilish grin
and takes enthusiastic delight trying out the nut kicking, pulling,
and twisting she wanted to do before. Luckily, she just has to mime
the actions since she would severely damage poor Ben in that
department otherwise. Everyone takes turns having a go, then Ben
dons some protective headgear and we all try out head-butting moves
on him. When it’s my turn, I can’t look him in the eye. I pretend
it’s Theo there instead so I can practice the moves effectively
without wanting to cry.

The hours pass quickly, with Ben
demonstrating how to get out of chokeholds, wrist holds, bear hugs,
and being pinned to the ground. We progress quickly, practicing the
moves loudly, throwing all our energy into blocking, defending,
striking, and empowering ourselves to fight back against a would-be
attacker. By end of the class, I’m exhilarated, my whole body
tingling. I’ve mastered the art of protecting myself and think I
could kick some serious butt now.

As the women file out, I walk up
to him, my heart pounding. I have to say something to clear the
air, but I don’t know what.

‘That was amazing.’ I try to
give him a smile but my lips twitch, which probably looks like I’ve
got a nervous tick. ‘What you’re doing for those women is
fantastic. Did you notice how confident they are now?’

‘Thanks.’ His gaze dances round
the room, avoiding mine. ‘I didn’t think you’d come today, but I’m
glad you didn’t miss out on the class.’

I fold my arms in front of me.
It’s better than having them hanging uselessly at my sides.
‘We…um…we can still be friends, can’t we?’

‘Friends.’ He nods slightly. ‘Of
course.’ He looks at me then, his eyes searching my face. He gives
me a wide smile that makes my stomach flip. ‘Look, I was
thinking…maybe it’s a good idea if I don’t work at the coffee shop
anymore.’

Those words hit me so hard I
can’t speak for a second.

Breathe, Grace!

‘I don’t want to leave you in
the lurch, or anything, so I can wait until you find a replacement,
if you want.’

‘No, it’s OK. That’s…um…fine.’ I
force a smile. What was I thinking? Of course he won’t want to work
with me anymore.

‘Right, so, that’s settled.’ He
starts clearing up the mats and stacking them in the corner, his
back to me.

‘OK.’ I swallow hard. ‘See you
then.’ I walk towards the doors.

‘Grace.’ His voice stops me in
my tracks.

I look over my shoulder, hand
poised over the door handle.

‘If you ever need me, I’m here,
OK?’

My eyes water and I blink
rapidly to clear them. ‘Thank you.’

44

BEN

I head out of the gym, and
before I know where I’m going, I end up at our bistro. The place
we’ve claimed as our Sunday hangout. Maybe I’m just torturing
myself, being here without her, but I want to be somewhere that
gives me good memories.

I grab a local newspaper, sit at
a table, and wait for someone to take my order as I scour the job
adverts, trying to take my mind off Grace.

‘Hi. On your own today?’ the
waitress, who’s now familiar, asks with a smile.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, what do you fancy?’ she
gives me a flirty smile.

My appetite’s vanished so I
order an Early Grey tea.

‘Is that all?’ She raises her
eyebrow suggestively.

‘Yes. Thanks.’ I turn back to
the paper.

One of the local pubs is
advertising for a door man. It’s the kind of place where they won’t
ask too many questions, but I can’t afford to get into any trouble.
A factory is looking for a security guard, but it’s a big company
who probably won’t hire someone with a criminal record. A courier
company wants a delivery driver. A late night greasy spoon café
wants someone to wash up and serve food a couple of nights a week
from five p.m. until midnight.

Great choice. I fold up the
paper as my tea arrives.

‘Here you go.’ The waitress sets
my tea in front of me. ‘Let me know if you need anything else.’ She
winks and meanders through the customers to clear an empty
table.

The thought of sitting here
without Grace is too much now. Her absence is like a chasm in my
chest. I leave the tea on the table with some money and walk out,
heading towards the café that’s hiring. No time like the present, I
guess.

The smell of fried food hits me
as soon as I open the door, and I almost gag. The place is full
with lorry drivers and workmen in overalls.

I summon up a smile and head
towards the counter. A guy in his late forties is taking orders,
and there are a couple of guys in the queue ahead of me. I scan the
menu while I wait. Fried breakfasts, chips, mugs of tea, bacon
sandwiches. It’s a far cry from Grace’s coffee shop, but it’s not
the calibre of place that will be bothered about my background.

‘Yes? What can I get you?’

I’m so lost in a daze of thought
I don’t realize he’s talking to me at first. ‘Oh, sorry. I’ve come
about the job advert.’

‘Right.’ He looks me up and
down. ‘Have you got any experience?’

‘In washing up?’ I ask,
wondering who hasn’t.

‘Washing up, serving food,
cleaning.’

‘Yes. I’ve been working at
Imogen’s Coffee Shop for a while.’

‘Follow me.’ He beckons me
behind the counter and we go through to the kitchen.

A haggard-looking woman in a
sweaty white T-shirt and jeans is busy frying up eggs and sausages.
She looks up briefly then runs towards the toaster as it pops up.
‘All right, John?’ she asks him.

‘Yeah, Shirl.’ He turns to me.
‘This is my wife. She’s in charge of the kitchen.’

‘Hi.’ I smile.

‘Hi.’ She doesn’t look up as she
butters the toast. ‘You here for the dogsbody job?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good, I need someone to help me
out. Last girl left in a hurry and it gets bloody busy in here
sometimes.’

John points a finger to the sink
stacked high with dirty dishes. ‘Sink.’ He points to a mop and
bucket in the corner of the room sitting next to some bottles of
detergent. ‘Mop.’ He nods towards an apron hanging up on a wall
hook that probably used to be white but is now a greyish colour.
‘Apron.’

A man of many words.

‘Pays minimum wage,’ he
says.

Shirl dishes up a plate of food
and hurries through to the café.

‘Want the job?’

‘Er…yes.’

‘Want to start now?’

I want to walk out of there and
not look back, but this is my life now. This is all I can hope for.
I have to get used to it. ‘Yes.’

John pulls the apron off the
hook and hands it to me. ‘Great.’ He walks back through to the
counter to serve.

45

GRACE

I take the chocolate muffins out
of the oven in the coffee shop and put them on a rack to cool. I
put the mixing bowls and utensils in the dishwasher and spy a whole
bag of sugar on the counter I forgot to add to the muffin
mixture.

‘Shit!’ I glare at the
sugar.

How could I have forgotten one
of the most important ingredients?

Concentrate, Grace, you
idiot!

I dump the muffins in the bin,
grab a bowl and start mixing up a new batch, trying not to think
about Ben again. It’s been three weeks since I saw him at the
class. Three weeks with an empty hole in my life. I’ve filled my
time by going to the gym, hitting the punch bag and joining a yoga
and meditation class. I read self-help therapy books from the
library. Books I would never have had the courage to read all those
months ago, before Ben taught me how to talk about the rape.

Ben. I’m back to him again! Has
he met someone else yet? Is he happy? Does he miss me like I miss
him?

I take my frustration out on the
muffin batter, mixing it so hard my arm aches before pouring it out
into new cake cups and sliding the baking tray in the oven.

Keep busy. Don’t think.

~~~~

The shop is empty just before
the lunchtime rush and a woman walks in. She looks a little
familiar, but I can’t place her. She stands at the doorway,
hesitating as she stares at me with frightened, hollow eyes
surrounded by dark circles. Her long brown hair is a tangled mess.
Her skin is deathly white, her distress almost tangible through the
air.

I move towards her and smile.
Usually, I’d just ask someone what they want to drink, but with
this woman I sense she’s not really here for coffee, so I say, ‘Are
you OK?’

Her eyes water. ‘Are you Grace?’
Her voice is a hoarse whisper.

‘Yes.’

Her gaze flicks around the shop
before coming back to me. ‘Can I talk to you in private?’

I recognize something in her
eyes and wonder if that’s why she seems familiar. It’s like my own
face staring back at me from all those months ago. Then I remember
her face. She’s the woman I saw walking down the street with Theo
the night I had the panic attack. And I think I know why she’s
here.

‘Of course.’ I turn the open
sign to closed and lock the door. ‘Come into the office.’ I lead
the way out to the back of the shop into the office. ‘Have a seat.’
I try to give her a reassuring smile, but I can tell it must look
strange, because it doesn’t feel right on my face. Somehow, I know
what she’s going to tell me is nothing to smile about.