Butterfly (9 page)

As I turn off the lights and
lock the front door, he waits for me outside on the street with his
hands stuffed in his pockets. Everything that’s happened tonight
feels so surreal, like I dreamt it all.

Except for that flutter of hope
inside. That’s very real now.

I walk up to the flat and unlock
the door.

‘Night, Grace. I’ll see you
tomorrow.’

I bite my lower lip for a
second. ‘Thanks, Ben. For everything.’

‘No need to thank me.’

I close the door and check the
locks, but the urge isn’t as strong as usual. I manage with only
checking each lock six times then strip off and get into a long,
hot shower.

I wash away the shampoo and
shower gel, and its swirling down the plughole hypnotizes me. It
reminds me of the night it happened. How I came home and showered
like a mad woman. Scrubbing and scrubbing my skin with stinging hot
water until it was raw, and even the pressure from the water hurt.
How I wanted to wash myself with acid. How it felt like I could
never be clean enough.

Soiled.

Dirty.

Disgusting.

How I must’ve been a horrible
person for this to have happened. Wanting to crawl out of my
skin.

I tried to wash it away, except
it wouldn’t go. Would never go.

Knowing I’d never be the same
person again. That woman was gone forever.

I fight back the nausea in my
stomach and the adrenaline closing my throat as I try to take deep
breaths.

In. Out.

In. Out.

I hear Ben’s calming voice in my
head and try to think something positive. Something different.

It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my
fault.

And now I’m trying to believe
the water washing away is a cleansing ritual, as if I’m taking the
first step to rid myself of the memories.

I force myself to smile. This is
the beginning of something big.

When my head hits the pillow, I
try the deep breathing again. I fall asleep before I even know
it.

It doesn’t last, though. Maybe
talking about
him
has made it worse, brought the fears to
the surface. I wake up at two a.m. bathed in sweat, seeing his
face. Feeling him pushing into me.

I throw the covers back and sit
on the edge of the bed, hyperventilating. My head’s in my hands,
and I rock back and forth, tugging at my hair.

I can’t do this. I can’t do
this. I’m an idiot for even trying.

Then I open my eyes and stare at
the floor, remembering everything Ben had said.

My ex did this to me. I didn’t
do it to myself. Everything’s
his
fault.

I didn’t want it. I didn’t ask
for it. Why should I feel ashamed, dirty, and worthless?

A voice inside my head urges me
to fight back. So I fight the only way I know how to at that
moment.

I scream into the darkness.

‘You fucking bastard!’ I yell
over and over again, directing my anger and suffering at him, where
it belongs. It’s been pent up inside for far too long, and I’m
tired of fighting it all.

As I cry, the emotional pain is
so intense I grab onto the mattress to stop me sliding to the
floor. And when I’m hoarse from shouting and screaming, I get back
under the covers, curl into a ball, close my eyes and breathe.

When I wake up, it’s six-thirty
a.m., and for the first time in forever, I’m late for work.

16

BEN

I knock on the door of the
coffee shop at quarter to eight. I reach inside the messenger bag
over my shoulder for the things I’ve brought her. I already checked
twice, but I do it again anyway.

OK, I’m nervous. I don’t know
how she’s going to react to seeing me this morning after everything
she revealed last night. Sometimes things get worse before they get
better, and I don’t want her to give up on this.

On herself.

On me.

She comes out of the kitchen,
wiping her hands on a tea towel. Her face hovers somewhere between
a smile and a frown.

‘Hi.’ I look down at her. ‘How
are you?’

Her forehead smoothes out, and
she smiles. ‘I’m OK. Surprisingly.’

Just the sight of that smile
makes me happy. ‘Good.’ I follow her into the shop. She steps
behind the counter, and I put my bag in the office. I don’t want to
give it to her when Lisa’s going to show up any minute. It’s not my
secret to tell.

I make myself useful, turning on
the machines and making sure the cups are clean and stacked while
she brings out the food from the kitchen and arranges it neatly. We
work in comfortable silence until Lisa knocks on the door.

‘It’s open!’ Grace calls out to
her.

Lisa waddles through the door
and grins at us both. ‘Morning, all. Why aren’t you locking the
door now?’

I know why. Grace still doesn’t
trust me completely, and I don’t blame her.

‘I probably forgot to lock it
after I came in,’ I say, wiping down some cutlery. My gaze snaps up
to Grace, and she risks a glance in my direction. She knows I know
why.

‘So, my last day.’ Lisa
scrunches up her face. ‘Are you going to miss me?’

‘You know I am.’ Grace gives her
a big hug. Suddenly, I’m wishing I were Lisa.

‘How about you?’ Lisa nudges me
with a grin.

I laugh. Lisa’s great. She’s
extrovert and fun and seems like a really nice girl.

The door opening breaks up the
conversation, and we all get to work as the morning rush takes
over.

We work in harmony together. Two
of us serving as one clears tables and cleans up after the
customers, swapping round now and then. I wonder if Grace realizes
how close I am to her as I serve. I sneak glances at her when she’s
not looking, but she doesn’t seem uncomfortable with me, and I take
that as a good sign.

By the time I look at the clock,
it’s past midday. The morning’s flown by.

‘Do you want to take your
break?’ Grace asks Lisa.

‘OK, as long as I get my pressie
when I get back.’ She winks and heads off out the shop to go home
and snatch an hour’s rest.

When she gets back, it’s quieted
down. Grace disappears into the office and returns with a small
present wrapped up in pink paper with pictures of teddy bears on it
and a big, pink bow on top.

Lisa squeals and claps her hands
together. ‘What is it?’

‘Open it and find out.’

‘Is it a pram?’

Grace rolls her eyes. ‘It would
be the world’s smallest pram.’

‘A rocking horse?’

‘Just bloody open it!’ Grace
groans.

Lisa sets it on the counter and
tears into the wrapping paper. Inside are about twenty Babygros and
bibs in all colours.

‘God, it’s real now.’ Lisa’s
eyes water. She rubs her belly and looks up at Grace. ‘I’m going to
be a mum.’

‘You’ll make a great mum,’ Grace
says.

Lisa points a finger at me, but
she’s only teasing. ‘You’d better look after her when I’m not
here.’

I can’t think of anything else
I’d like more. ‘You can count on me.’

‘Thank you, hon.’ Lisa hugs
Grace, and both their eyes are watering. ‘OK, stop it now.’ Lisa
breaks free first and wipes her eyes. ‘You’re making me cry.’ She
rushes off to the staff toilet.

‘Want to take your break now?’
Grace asks me.

‘What about you?’

She waves a hand. ‘I’m OK.’

‘Yeah, but you never seem to
have a break. You take yours first. I’ll have mine later.
Actually…I’ve got enough lunch for two. Thought you might like
some.’ I was up extra early making something I hoped she’d like.
It’s obvious she doesn’t eat enough, and healing is as much about
looking after your body as it is your mind.

When Lisa returns, I go into the
office and pull out a ciabatta wrapped in tin foil from my bag. The
smell makes my mouth water, but I can wait for mine. She’s more
important.

‘Brie with roasted veg and
sundried tomatoes,’ I say when I hand it over.

Grace’s mouth drops open. ‘You
made me lunch?’

‘Good move, Ben. I keep telling
her to eat more, but she never listens to me. Go on, then.’ Lisa
shoos Grace into the office. ‘Sit down and eat for once.’

When Grace is out of the way,
Lisa gives me a high five. ‘Yep,’ she says. ‘I think she’s found a
good replacement for me.’

17

GRACE

He made me lunch? And what’s
more, it tastes delicious. I don’t realize how hungry I am until I
take a bite and chew, savouring the perfect blend of flavours. Even
though it’s a pretty simple lunch, it’s gastronomic heaven.

I don’t take a break, though. I
catch up on paperwork and accounts at the laptop on my desk
instead. Every now and then, Lisa and Ben’s laughter filters
through the corridor.

He’s got a nice laugh. Like the
rest of him, it’s warm and relaxed.

I start thinking about what he
told me last night. I can understand why Mia did what she did.
Sometimes, it seems like it’s easier just to let go than carry on
trying to put one foot in front of another. It’s obvious he loved
her a lot and misses her like crazy. Is that why he went to study
in Australia? To get away from everything for a while?

I know the grief that death
brings. I was only thirteen when Mum died of breast cancer. It
doesn’t ever completely go away, but it does get easier. Now I know
why I recognized the hurt in his eyes the first time I saw him in
the hospital. He tries to hide it, but it’s there, raw and
visceral. Maybe that’s why I feel this strange connection to him.
Maybe it’s why I don’t want to run away from him when he’s working
so close beside me.

I want to take his pain away.
Maybe I can help him, too, in some way.

I throw the foil wrapper in the
bin and go back to the counter. Ben’s clearing one of the tables,
and Lisa’s wiping down one of the coffee machines.

She leans in close to me and
whispers, ‘He’s so sexy!’

‘Shh! He might hear you.’ My
face flushes, and my heartbeat quickens with embarrassment for him.
Lisa’s not shy in saying what she thinks.

Lisa shrugs. ‘Just telling it
like it is.’

‘How was your ciabatta?’ Ben
asks as he comes back to the counter.

‘It was delicious, thanks. Why
don’t you go and have yours now?’

He undoes his long green apron,
hangs it in the kitchen, and goes into the office to eat.

‘So, what do you think? He’s
gorgeous, right?’ Lisa presses me. ‘He even looks great in an
apron.’

I roll my eyes and say, ‘Yes,’
just to shut her up.

‘And ripped. Have you seen his
muscles under that T-shirt? Not to mention tall, dark, and…
hot.’

‘Yeah, you already said that.
About a million times.’

She goes on about him, and I try
to drown her out. I don’t want to think about it. He’s helping me
out professionally, as a counsellor, as a friend, that’s all. I
don’t want anything else, and I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to
have a relationship again.

It’s too painful.

‘Is he single?’ she carries
on.

‘I don’t know!’ My face flushes
again. ‘We’re just friends, and he works here, that’s all.’

She folds her arms, raises her
eyebrows and says, ‘Right.’

Luckily, she can’t say anymore
because it gets busy, and Ben returns. I try to focus on serving
customers, but every few minutes I find my gaze heading in his
direction.

18

BEN

Lisa sheds more tears when she
leaves early for her antenatal class.

‘I’m coming back next week to
check up on you both.’ Lisa sniffs through a blocked nose. ‘Just to
make sure you’re both doing things right. Wouldn’t want the
reputation of the coffee shop to go down because I’m not here
anymore.’

‘Absolutely.’ Grace grins at
her. ‘Free coffee and cakes for you.’

Lisa gives me a hug before she
goes and whispers in my ear, ‘Look after her, or I’ll kick your
arse.’

I laugh. ‘Nice to have met
you.’

‘Hey, didn’t I say I was coming
back?’ Lisa raises her eyebrows at me. ‘Right. I’m going now before
I bawl.’

‘She’s a character,’ I say.

‘She’s lovely.’

‘I hope it’s OK, but I’m going
to be a bit late tomorrow morning.’ I turn my back to her to get
more cups from a cupboard on the back wall. I don’t want her to see
yet another lie coming. ‘I’ve got an early morning appointment I
can’t get out of. I should be in by about half past nine,
though.’

‘That’s OK. I can manage. I bet
you have to do counselling at odd hours sometimes.’

I busy myself pulling cartons of
milk out of the fridge. It’s not a counselling session, but I don’t
correct her. I can never tell her the real reason for the
appointment.

‘I’ve been thinking, actually…’
She pauses, and I can tell without looking she’s biting her lower
lip again. She does it a lot. ‘I think I need to learn
self-defence. Can you teach me?’

I swing round to face her. ‘I
think that’s a great idea. They run in three-session cycles. Two
hours each week. The next session starts in two weeks. Is that
OK?’

‘That sounds good to me. You can
put a leaflet up in here advertising it if you like.’ She nods
toward a notice board on the back wall.

‘Thanks. I’ll bring one in
tomorrow. You know, self-defence and increasing your aerobic
endurance can improve the chance of your brain changing the freeze
response you had to a fight reflex. It’s no guarantee, and even
experienced martial artists can still freeze, but it may help if
you ever have to use it again.’

Another customer comes in, and
it’s back to serving coffee for the commuters on their way home
until we close. I clean the machines, and she tidies the kitchen.
No food is left for the homeless shelter today, and I’m not
surprised. I’ve tried most of her stuff, and it tastes amazing.

‘Where did you learn to cook?’ I
ask as she comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea
towel.