Romance in A minor: A musical romance (9 page)

Justine shook her head. "Tom would never..." But she
thought
he would never hurt anyone. At least not physically, although he'd scared her by holding her hand so tightly.

"Did you ring for a second time?"

"No I didn't, I'm sorry. Maybe I should have, but I didn't want to cause trouble, but it looks like I've already done that. I'm sorry. I didn't intend it."

"No, it would have happened anyway."

Tom just hurt her in a non-physical way and called it
helping
her. She needed "help" when making friends, because obviously she couldn't do so by herself. She needed "help" in how to spend her spare time, because spare time was for keeping an eye on her so that she didn't wander over to the café at lunch to have lunch with strange men. She needed "help" in her job, where she was never getting enough help, as if phone chicks needed so much help. He was always ready to get on the phone and complain about something. But he only succeeded in trying to own her. Her life, her free time, her problems. The way she dressed, the way she wore her hair, the things she bought for herself.

"Come, I'll make some tea," Darren said. He shut the front door. "I'll give you some dry clothes." He went into the first room on the left. It was a decent-sized bedroom with a pleasant hotchpotch of old-style furniture including a double bed.

"This is such a cute room. Oh, the bed has even got a vintage crocheted bedspread."

"Yeah, lucky it's white because the cat likes sitting on it. Also, that's the real deal. My grandmother crocheted that bedspread. He went to the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt and trackpants. "These will be too big for you, but at least they're dry."

"Thank you. I don't want to cause any trouble for you." She wiped at her cheeks.

"Don't be silly. You can stay as long as you need. We even have a spare bedroom."

Darren left and Justine took off her soaked dress. Even her underwear was wet. Darren's shirt was far too big and the track pants dragged over the floor, but at least they were dry.

She found Darren in the living room, where a washing basket stood on the table, and a pile of laundry  lay on the couch.

"I was just doing the washing," Darren said, picking up the pile in both arms and dumping it on a chair. On the table were neat stacks of folded shirts, including the black and white checked trousers of a kitchen uniform.

"Is Trevor a cook?"

"He works in a restaurant sometimes. It's owned by friends of his." Darren bustled about with a kettle and a tea pot.

Beethoven the deaf cat came stalking into the room and jumped up the couch next to Justine. She scratched him between the ears and he pushed his head into her hand, purring.

Justine sniffed. She was so cold and nervous that she couldn't stop her teeth chattering.

Darren came to the couch with two cups of tea which he set on the table and then sat down next to her.

She told him what had happened.

"He doesn't allow you to play music? Why should he allow anything? You're an adult. Sorry, but he sounds like a real jerk."

"He helped me a lot."

"Two years ago. What is he doing for you now? What will he do for you in the future? Will he just ask that you give up your entire life for him?"

"Pretty much."

Tom's previous girlfriend had run out on him. Tom had always blamed her, that she was never satisfied, that she wanted him to be a kind of person he wasn't. And Justine had believed him, because he was so kind to her.

But he wasn't really kind. He was controlling. And if he couldn't control, he got angry, or passive-aggressive, like getting drunk and inviting people he knew she hated.

"But I think it's over now. I've been so stupid." Her voice wavered. "I'm even angry that I'm crying over this."

"Oh, Justine." He touched her arm.

She stared at her tea which still stood on the table, the cup blurring before her eyes.

Darren put a hand on her shoulder. Justine turned into him and let him envelop her in his warmth. The cat walked over his legs to sit right between them. Justine stroked the soft fur. Darren put his hand on top of hers. He lifted her hand off the cat and turned her around to face him. "You're an amazing woman. He sucked the fire and passion out of you. He turned you into this timid thing constantly worried about whether you'd be home in time and how he'd get his dinner. He's a grown man, and if he demands that you hang around serving him, then doesn't deserve you."

A tear leaked out of Justine's eye. He was saying everything she had thought he would say, and more.

"Please, Darren. I know all those things. There is only one thing I want to know."

"And that is?"

Justine said nothing, but met his eyes unwaveringly. He retuned her intense look. She slowly reached up and touched those amazing wild curls. The hair was surprisingly stiff. She threaded her fingers through, caressed the back of his head, and pulled him closer until their lips met.

A
loud clang woke Justine up.

She opened her eyes. Judging by the colour of the light, it was already quite late. She was not at home and that the warm body next to her was not Tom's. Darren was still asleep. He faced away from her, his curls spread over the pillow. Brief thoughts of tenderness washed through her, as she thought of how she had stroked those curls last night while making love to him.

There were footsteps in the hallway and the front door opened with a creak. The sound that had woken her up was the knocker.

Someone said, "Hello?" It sounded like Trevor.

A voice replied, kind of angry-sounding.

"No," said Trevor.

Another angry reply. A chill crept over Justine's back. That voice in the front yard sounded familiar.

"There's someone at the door," Darren said. He pushed himself up and looked at her through squinted eyes. His smile made her feel warm.

"Shhh. I think it's Tom."

She jumped out of bed and looked through a crack between the blinds. It was indeed Tom. He was saying, "I know she's here, and I'm not moving until I see her."

"Damn it, I have no idea how he got the address. I'm sorry."

She pulled on her clothes and went into the hall.

Tom's eyes went wide when he saw her. "Ah. There you are. Come home with me." He came up the stairs. He was still wearing the same clothes he'd worn last night and a sweaty smell hung around him.

Justine shrank into the hallway. Trevor stepped between her and Tom. "Look, mate—"

"Don't tell
me
anything, mate. That's
my fiancée
you've been shagging all night."

"What's this rubbish, man?"

"Don't give me any of this innocent shit. Don't try to bullshit you way out of it. Face up to the truth like a real man." Sweat pearled on his forehead. The suit was far too hot for him. He'd probably come by car and would have had to walk a fair distance.

Trevor said, "Mate, calm down."

Justine pushed past Trevor. "Shhh, let me handle this." She walked down the steps and held her fist out to Tom. He held out his hand and Justine dropped the ring in his palm.

"It's over, Tom. I'm not  marrying you because it would never work. Because I want to lead
my
life and not yours."

"But I—"

"The last few days have made me realise that you don't want a partner. You want a slave and cheerleader. I'm fine with being a cheerleader, but I'm  not fine with the cheerleading being one-sided. I'll come and watch you run, but I get told off for wanting to play music? And then you all laugh at me for going to play with 'a bunch of faggots'? Sorry, but it doesn't work like that."

"But honey..."

"No. I'm not your honey. It's over."

Tom's nostrils flared. He looked past Justine where Trevor still stood on the steps and Darren was just coming out of his room. "You set her up to this, right?"

"That's Trevor. He has nothing to do with this. This is Darren."

Tom ran up the steps, but Justine grabbed him by his shirt. "Stop!"

He glared at her.

"Just go, before something bad happens."

Tom turned around and strode down the path, out the gate and disappeared from sight. Justine went to Darren, who closed her in his arms.

"I'm finished with him. It's over. I'm yours."

"Is there anything you need from his place. Trevor and I can take you over there to get your things."

"My cello. That's all." Although she'd probably think of a lot of other things in the course of the day. "Let's worry about that later."

She followed him through the yard, while somewhere further down the street, a car took off with screeching tyres.

"That's probably Tom," she said.

"Probably." And when they were at the door, he added, "Faggots? Did he really say that?"

"He did. Some of his mates at the bank talk to each other like that."

Trevor was in the kitchen making coffee. After distributing steaming cups, he started making breakfast.

Darren asked her what she needed. Out of all the things that needed to be done, one stood out. "I should call my parents and let them know." And her phone was one of the items still in Tom's apartment.

"We have a phone."

Thankfully, she knew the number by heart, and her mother picked up after just two rings. "Justine, you're lucky. We were just about to go out."

"I've moved."

"You have...? Did the owner of your flat cancel the lease?"

"No, I'm not with Tom anymore. We broke up."

There was a short silence in which Justine imagined the look of disappointment on her mother's face.

Then she said, "Well, that's certainly big news. I have to admit that I was afraid that you were going to marry that guy."

"You didn't like him? Why didn't you say so?"

"Would you have listened to me, your old mother? No, you didn't listen about going to music school, either. But I'm glad anyway. He was much too bossy for you."

It must have been bad if even her mother had noticed it. But never mind, it was all over now and her life could start anew.

"I wanted to say that I'm coming up to visit you next month. I want you to meet Darren."

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