Inevitable (20 page)

I felt him tense up again behind me. ‘Yeah you heard! She had been sold by her own family. They were so poor they had to sell her, it’s unbelievable that people in this day and age had to sell one of their children in order to feed their others.’ I took a breather and snuggled as close as I could get into the masculine warmth that surrounded me. I breathed in his spicy sandalwood aroma and tried to use it to calm down, the trouble with opening up the forbidden box in my head, was it made me feel physically ill and panicky.

‘So they are human traffickers, now tell me… what the fucking hell do the Antonescus do with all these young girls?’

I swallowed, my throat was starting to constrict against the ever rising vomit I could now feel starting to burn my windpipe. ‘The ones they can, they sell to non-European males. You see… a non-European male buys a European wife as it increases their chances of being able to stay in Europe, most of them hope to stay in the UK… the girls that don’t get chosen to be a wife are forced into prostitution. He even used my passport to get some of the girls into the country. I am so ashamed to have given them any help, whatsoever.’

That was it, what with the scary ride on the bike and reliving all of that again, I was going to be sick. I rushed out of the comfortable and reassuring arms of Nathan and hopped quickly off the bed, hurriedly pushing open the door of the bathroom, thank God I was in too much of a hurry to take in the vile décor of the room. Everything that was in my stomach was ferociously thrown into the extremely clean-looking, pink enamel toilet bowl. I heaved until there was nothing left. Nathan had, at some point, come in behind me and was holding my hair up and away from the mess.

When my stomach had eventually finished heaving, I fell back into his welcoming arms. No words were needed, he just held on to me tightly as we sat on the floor of the overly pink and frilly room, until once again I came through the other side.

I slammed the door shut on the compartment in my head.

BELLA

T
he cool liquid was sliding almost effortlessly down my sore and extremely burnt throat, throwing up the entire contents of my stomach obviously hadn’t agreed with my oesophagus. The evening was warm and sultry, the bar we had gone to felt decidedly sticky, but at least the beer they were serving was cold.

I was grateful for the one little cotton dress that Aunty Jean had packed for me. For the first time in a few days, I felt feminine. The short lemon dress, with shoestring straps, fitted to my braless boobs and then fell loosely to my mid-thigh, resembling a baby-doll nightdress. I’d changed into clean underwear and the little pumps she had also packed. Nathan had also insisted upon me wearing my denim shorts as he guessed I was going to want to dance and I presumed no one was allowed to see my bare arse cheeks except him, I thought with a smile. My hair was clean, even wet in places still and I was grateful as the dampness was helping me to remain cool. I had piled it up messily on top of my head, several tendrils had since fallen down and were scattered over the tops of my shoulders. I’d applied a little make-up and was beginning to feel more like Bella with every mouthful of alcohol I managed to swallow.

Nathan had insisted we sat up at the bar but tucked around the corner, the furthest away from the door. There he could watch as everyone entered and left the busy bar/restaurant.

Not only was the motel we were staying at a 1980’s throwback, but it seemed that the bar was as well. I had just finished eating a meal of chicken in a basket. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten anything out of a basket, it was delicious though. I watched Nathan as he sat next to me. He had finished every scrap of food and in doing so he began to move the thoughtfully supplied toothpick around and in between every finger on his hand. It must have been something he had done time after time before, he was so well practised at it. Finally, the toothpick found its way into his mouth, his tongue twirled it around making it move quickly from side to side, so fast it was almost mesmerising. The Nathan I was getting to know was a constant fidget, whether it be his tin of mints, a beer bottle top, or a toothpick. He could only relax if he was moving something. It was a revelation, I felt honoured to be allowed to see the real man behind the mask and facades he had built up over the years.

The bar tender had made his way back over to us again, he was using a crisp, clean tea-towel to shine up a beer glass. I could hear the cloth, squeaking on the soapy residue on the glass. He took his eyes away from the task in hand and stared at our empty baskets.

‘You kids all finished?’ he questioned, nodding towards the baskets in front of us.

‘Yep, we sure are,’ Nathan answered, removing the toothpick and dropping it into the empty basket and then he picked them up stacking them together, before handing them to the now empty-handed barman. ‘The food was great… thanks,’ Nathan offered with a smile. The barman stared at him momentarily and then clicked his fingers together. A pleased smile skirted over his lips.

‘I’ve got it… you’re a bike rider aren’t you,’ he stood willing the name to come to him. ‘Ermmm… I know what number you race under. Your race number is seven. But your name has left me.’ I watched amused as the older man stood clicking his fingers together, expecting the answer to just magically appear to him. ‘I know… it’s Blackmore, isn’t it?... It’s a real pleasure to meet you.’ The bar tender rubbed his wet hands down the front of his apron to dry them and extended a hand in front of Nathan’s face. I watched as Nathan offered out his long limb and they shook hands. ‘My name is Charlie, my family own the motel and bar hereabouts… Are you two staying with us?’ Charlie asked.

‘We sure are,’ Nathan smiled back to him. ‘We’re staying in the motel, in the bridal suite.’ I watched Nathan as he spoke, he was starting to peel away the label from his beer bottle by attacking the corner with his nail, until it lifted enough for him to be able to pinch it between this thumb and forefinger, and slowly strip it downwards. The piece of paper he had managed to remove, was expertly rolled between his thumb and finger and placed carefully on the bar. He lifted his gaze once again to meet the celebrity-struck barman and smiled at him.

‘Oh wow… I hadn’t read that you’d got married.’ He moved his gaze across to me now and offered me his hand. ‘Congratulations to you, Mrs. Blackmore.’

Momentarily stunned, I looked at Nathan’s cheeky grin and the huge smiling face of Charlie. I grabbed his hand and he shook it gently.

‘We’d be obliged if you could keep it to yourself though?’ Nathan asked our new friend. ‘We’re just sort of getting used to it ourselves.’

‘No problem… do you think you could you sign a couple of autographs for me and I’ll be only too pleased to keep it under wraps,’ Charlie winked at us both. ‘As you can see the family collect bits and pieces from anyone famous who just happens to pop by… whether it be to stay in the motel, get a beer from the bar or eat some of our delicious food,’ he waved a hand at the walls behind the bar. Looking around there were several hats, football shirts, photos and even a couple of signed guitars.

Who had signed them?
I hadn’t a clue, I was too far away to read the signatures. I found it funny though, that other celebrities had stayed in the motel that seemed to be stuck in the time warp of the seventies and eighties. I had only previously seen pictures of the decades, but here for the first time I could see it in glorious Technicolour.

‘I think I can do better than that… if you don’t mind a worn T-shirt… I’ve got one of my white number seven shirts with me… I can sign that if you’d like?’

‘Yeah sure… that’d be great… what can I get for you guys in return? How about two big slabs of home-made apple pie and cream?’

Nathan nodded his enthusiasm back and Charlie retreated out the back to get our desserts.

‘So we’re recently married now, are we?’ I asked with a big smile.

‘It’s the same white lie I had to tell to get you the tastefully decorated room that is our comfortable abode for this evening. I didn’t think it would fucking hurt to retell it.’ He lifted his bottle to his lips and took a quick swig of beer, then placed the bottle back down onto the bar. He turned the bottle around and around between his thumb and forefinger. His face took on a thoughtful, almost brooding expression.

The apple pie was lovely. By the time we’d finished it the bar was starting to get busier and the live band were tuning up. I was actually looking forward to the evening ahead, it was almost a normal evening out, just pretending for a couple of hours that we weren’t on the run.

Nathan stood up and away from the bar stool, ‘Charlie could you keep an eye on my lovely wife, I’m going to run and get that T-shirt I owe ya?’ Charlie nodded and smiled over at me.

‘Bella, why don’t you give Frankie a quick call?’ Nathan threw over his phone and I caught it with both hands and smiled at his retreating figure.

It only took a moment and a couple of pressed buttons, until I heard my bestie’s voice on the other end.

‘Nathan?’

‘Hiya… no… it’s me.’

‘About bloody time, too.’ I could see her face in my mind smiling through her anxiety.

I laughed my response, ‘I know… but it’s been pretty full on here. We’re either riding on that bloody bike or we’re…’ I stopped there, I wasn’t sure what it was we were doing.

‘Falling in love again?’ She had hit the nail on the head. I let the words sink in a little.

‘Yeah… I guess you could say that’s what we’re doing… we’re also opening up to each other, slowly but surely.’

‘You two are made for each other… you just needed your heads knocking together to realise it.’

I could feel my forehead creasing into a deep frown, ‘You set this up?’

‘Christ no… how the hell could I have set all this up? But I did have a quiet word in Nathan’s ear about you taking up my job offer and once it was planted he grabbed hold like a dog with a bone.’

‘How are you, Frankie?’ I asked.

‘Well I’m missing my best friend, but as long as she’s safe and being looked after, I’ll live.’

‘How’s my baby?’

I heard her sigh now, and I could just imagine her stroking her baby bump gently. ‘Yep growing by the minute, what with Alex, Aunty Jean and Uncle Robert all watching me… what could possibly go wrong?’

‘They’re just worried about you, what with me causing added stress…’ I exhaled and tutted audibly. ‘I’m really sorry, Frankie… for all of this and… for only really now understanding how you feel about Alex.’ My gaze was taken to Nate, having just re-entered the bar, he had obviously run all the way as he looked slightly sweatier than when he had left. He was clutching an extremely screwed up, white ball in his hand. I watched him striding his way through to me, he never once removed his eyes from my face. He was in scruffy, dirty old faded jeans and another of his very creased old T-shirts, but heads turned as he walked past them. Male and female, it didn’t seem to matter, he had such an indescribable presence. He was now wearing a very old and tattered blue baseball cap; the faded and dirty lettering read NYC and it was pulled down low over his eyes. I suppose he thought he would be more incognito; it was probably a good move as the bar was getting busier by the minute. Eventually he reached my side, and after chucking the white ball at Charlie with a smile, he turned my stool slightly towards him and moved as close into my personal space as possible, by prising my legs apart and stepping in between them. He leaned down towards me, one hand on the edge of the bar and the other just touching my bare shoulders and neck. I inhaled his body wash and instantly relaxed, I hadn’t even realised I’d been on edge until that very moment. He dipped his head further until I could feel his warm breath caress my naked skin. He lifted the loose pieces of my hair, kissing underneath each one.

‘You still there, Bella?’ I heard in my ear.

‘I am… sorry… Nathan was distracting me.’

‘Yeah of course he was, and you have nothing to feel sorry for… I repeat, absolutely nothing.’ Frankie let out a light giggle and I heard her slap something.

‘Don’t tell me… that’s you slapping Alex? … he’s distracting you, too?’

She returned another giggle. The band had now started their first set and I plunged my finger in my opposite ear.

‘I’m going to have to go, Frankie… The band have started and I’m not going to be able to hear you soon. I love you!’ I shouted.

‘Love you too! Both of you… stay safe’ she returned and I disconnected our call.

Nathan was still playfully necking me and I placed my arms around his broad muscular back. ‘I could get used to this sort of attention,’ I whispered into the shell of his ear, licking my lips as the warmth of his skin came back at me.

‘I’m sure you fucking could… so tonight I’ve decided we’re gonna make out like teenagers, do some dancing and drink some beer. It’s not something I’ve ever done before. My sexual experiences seemed to skip this part and just went for the main fucking event. I get the feeling you were much the same.’ I lifted my eyebrows at him. He was right of course, but it wasn’t something I had ever felt I was missing out on.