The Bunk Up (The Village People Book 1) (20 page)

Dumbfounded with his hostility, I step back and stare at him. “Excuse me?”

He snorts. “Excuse me,” he mimics.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

My eyes widen and I suck in a short breath when he jolts forward and grabs the tops of my arms. “Me? ME? Are you that fucking selfish?” His grip is painful and I try to wriggle away but he holds onto me tighter. “How dare you judge me! What gives you any right to sneer at me the way you do?”

Shaking my head as tears bubble in my eyes, I manage to free myself. “I don’t sneer at you.”

“Yes
,
you do. You’re just not aware that you do it. Perfect Daisy. Never had to work for anyone’s affection, never had the shame of not being wanted by your own parent.”

Anger surges and I glare at him. “What the hell do you know, Frazer McNeil?”

I shouldn’t be so hurt by his hatred
,
but I am. I can’t understand what I’ve done to even warrant it. I want to knee him in the balls but I can see the pain in his eyes and I have to stop myself from hugging him. It’s pretty obvious he still has issues with his mother’s abandonment.

“You should talk to her,” I urge quietly.

Frazer stares at me like I’ve just stuck my tongue up my left nostril. “Who?”

“Your mum.”

A bitter laugh bursts from him. “See? So fucking easy for you, isn’t it? Your mother may be a mad bint, but at least she fucking loves you.”

“Frazer…”

He steps back when I reach for him. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Tears spill harder down my face and I wipe at them. “I… I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you sorry for? Don’t be! I don’t care whether you give a shit or not.”

Nodding slowly, I swallow back my distress, angry that I’m allowing him this much control over my emotions.

His phone rings and I watch as he pulls it from his pocket and stares at the screen. “Tiffany, babe,” he slurs. Then lifting his eyes to mine, he drawls. “Get that sweet little ass over here.”

My bottom lip pops under the pressure of my top teeth and I turn away quickly before he recognises the hurt that twists deep inside me. I nearly stumble as I snatch up my jacket and bag and leap for the front door.

“Daisy?”

“I’ll get out of your way,” I bite. “You don’t want me here when you’re screwing your girlfriend. Have fun.”

I slam the door behind me and race down the mud path into the village. My feet skid and it’s then I realise I haven’t got shoes on.

Damn it.

Stones and gravel rip into my soles while Fraser’s hurtful words slash my soul, and I wince with every step. But there’s absolutely no way I’m going back.

I hate him. I hate him.

I love him. I love him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Daisy

Kath stands in the doorway and stares at me like I’ve grown three heads while I’ve been gone. “What the hell are you doing here, Daise?”

My bottom lip wobbles and she quickly ushers me inside, and then over to the sofa. Taking a confused look at my sore bare feet, her eyes snatch back to my face. “Where are your shoes?”

I shrug.

“You came all the way back from Norfolk without shoes?”

Fighting tears, I also attempt to curb the tremble in my bottom lip as I nod wildly.

“Jesus Christ!” She huffs as she runs upstairs for the first aid kit she keeps in the bathroom.

“Auntie Daisy!” Miranda squeals as she leaps up onto my lap. “Billy’s got the shits. And he puked all over Miss Darcy.” Miss Darcy is the goldfish.

The shits?

“I’m not sure your mum would like you saying that word, Miranda.”

Ignoring me
,
she carries on
.
“He trumped on my dolly and now she’s covered in poop!”

Lovely.

“It’s in her hair and I can’t get it out!”

She thrusts her doll in my face. I squeal and scuttle back at the state of poor Dolly. She looks like she’s been pebble dashed.

“You see,” Miranda cries, my reaction making her screw up her face in distress. “And now she’s all stinky too!”

“Maybe you should bath dolly,” I try as I subtly push Miranda off my knee. I want to launch her across the room but I’m sure Kathy wouldn’t be too happy with me. Plus, I need somewhere to stay, and catapulting her child into a brick wall wouldn’t be the best way to go about that.

Miranda’s eyes widen like she hasn’t thought about that. Grinning with excitement, she runs from the room, nearly colliding with Kathy as she walks back in.

Kath settles on the floor in front of me and pulls my feet onto her lap. Carefully cleaning the cut soles, she grumbles loudly. “Spill.”

I feel stupid. But I’m also hurt, so it all rushes from me in a blur of hiccups and slurred words. “Frazer shagged Tiffany. And he said I was selfish. And that I have no idea how it feels to be pushed aside by a parent. How the hell would he know what I feel? Hmm? How can he say that to me, Kathy? Me of all people. The me whose father buggered off before my mum even had chance to squeeze me out of her vagina? How?”

Kath blinks at me as she gently wipes antiseptic. “So… let’s start from the beginning. Frazer shagged Tiffany?”

I nod, my eyes widening as I try to stop the flow of tears consuming me.

“This is the Frazer that is just a bit of fun to you?”

I stare.

“A bit of fun that shouldn’t really bother you what he does. I mean, you went out looking for other random shags. Right?”

I lower my eyes.

“Right, Daisy?”

“Well, yes, but… I couldn’t.”

“But, you did try? And Frazer knows this?”

My bottom lip juts out and I nod slowly. “I guess.”

“Okay.” She draws a long breath. “And he said you were selfish?”

I suck in a furious breath, the memory of his spiteful words making my chest burn with ire.

“Why did he say you were selfish?”

I shift uncomfortably and Kath raises an eyebrow.

“Well.” I shrug. “I asked him what was wrong, and because I didn’t know what was wrong, he said I was selfish.”

Leaning back, Kath throws the cotton balls in the bin and taps her fingers on her thighs. “So, it sounds like you should have known what was wrong with him.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what goes on with him? I can’t read his mind!”

She smiles faintly and nods.

“And about your dad leaving you. Does Frazer know this?”

I pause. “No.”

“So you never told him?”

Shaking my head, I pick at the sore skin at the edge of my nail.

“But, obviously…” She quirks another eyebrow. “…Frazer opened up to you about his childhood.”

I nod again.

“And you didn’t think that maybe sharing your experience might have helped him deal with his?”

My throat constricts. She’s right. I should have shared that with him. I should have opened up to him like he had with me. But I hadn’t. Frazer barely knows anything about me. But whose fault is that? I have a guilty feeling that it is mine.

“He was cruel, Kath,” I whisper. The tears that have bubbled in my eyes drip over the edge and I quickly swipe at them. “I… uhh…”

“You’ve fallen in love with him,” she finishes for me.

“Yes.”

Sighing, she grabs my hand. “Then why are you here?”

“Because he doesn’t feel the same about me. It was just fun to him, Kath. I know I irritate him, and the way he just went and slept with Tiffany proves how little I mean to him.”

“But how can you be sure?”

“I told him,” I whisper, cringing with embarrassment at the memory of the mortification that had covered his face. “I told him I wanted the dream. And he walked away.”

Kathy closes her eyes and sighs. “Oh, babe.” Huddling me up, she squeezes me hard. “So what are you gonna do?”

What am I going to do?

“I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I sigh. “I really don’t know.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Frazer

She’s gone. I know, even though all her clothes are still in the wardrobe, that she’s gone.

Back to him. To ‘The Cunt’ – her own words, not mine.

I can’t say I’m not hurt, because I am. Yet, I can’t understand why. Our relationship was just a bunk
-
up; we were just bed buddies. It was purely sex. Just fun.

Except I was cruel to her. I hadn’t been able to stop the heartless words from spewing out of me. However, I know it’s only because I wanted to hurt her as much as she had me. She’s been so quick to dump me for her ex. So fast to run back into his arms.

“Frazer?” Tiffany stares at me from where she’s sitting beside me on the sofa. I’ve said barely two words to her since she turned up over two hours ago.

She just won’t fucking go!

After I’d told her to come round yesterday, again, just to hurt Daisy, she’s turned into a damn clinger-on, refusing to get the message I was subtly trying to tell her.

Sighing, I turn to her. “Look, Tiff. Me and you…”

She grows excited, her eyes enlarging until they appear unnatural on her long, thin face.

“It’s just not doing it for me anymore.”

Her excitement turns to confusion and she frowns. “What?”

I shrug, not caring if I’m being spiteful or not. It’s time to leave this damn fucking village. And I can’t wait to pack my bag and fuck off.

“It was just a bit of fun, Tiff.”

“Fun?” she screeches, flinging herself up from the sofa and glaring at me. “Fun? It may have been
fun
for you, but it definitely wasn’t for me!”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Jesus
.
I told you I don’t do serious!”

Again, she looks puzzled. “I don’t mean it wasn’t fun
,
as in I’ve fallen in love with you, you fucking idiot. I mean it wasn’t remotely fun – at – all! Maybe because, a, your dick definitely does NOT taste of lychees like you promised. Two, asking
me
to get rid of the condom because, and I quote ‘All acts of cleaning-up is the chick’s job’, is not in the least bit fun. Three, calling me Daisy mid-fucking-thrust is just plain rude! And d…” She pokes me in the chest and I wince. “…Farting mid-orgasm is fucking disgusting!”

“When it’s gotta come out, it’s gotta come out.” Jesus, she is so uptight.

Huffing, she snatches up her jacket
,
and without another word she’s out of the door.

I smile. I hadn’t thought the shitty things I’d done to get rid of her had worked. But it seems it really had. Yet, if I’m honest, I can’t believe she thought I was really that fucking gross – lychees are rank!

Taking a look around the cottage, something inside me tightens. Rubbing at my chest, groaning at the damn indigestion that has been chronic ever since Daisy told me she was going back to Marcus, I grab the carton of milk from the fridge and glug it down.

Then, blinking at the soreness in my eyes as I take another long look around at the perfectly painted walls and tastefully refurnished room, I click my tongue and climb the stairs.

It’s too late to disembark the sinking ship at this hour, but first thing tomorrow I’m out of here.

I lie to myself, refusing to think it sad when I climb into bed and bury my face into Daisy’s pillow. It’s because my pillow is too hard. That’s all.

***

I overlay. First time in bloody decades. I wanted to be out of here before the damn birds even witnessed my escape.

Quickly showering, I drag on whatever clothes don’t smell too pungent and fill my bag, cramming one of Daisy’s t-shirts into the bottom. It’s only because the fresh smell of her clothing will hide the fetid smell of my own.

My heart is heavy as I slowly make my way downstairs. I’d have thought I’d be excited to finally leave. This place holds nothing but bad memories for me. But a small smile touches my lips when I think of all the crazy things Daisy said and did, or the fun we had in the bedroom. Or how we had both done a damn fine job of redecorating the place. It doesn’t quite seem like my mother’s place anymore. In my head, it’s mine and Daisy’s.

What the fuck? I need to stop thinking stupid shit!

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I sigh and step into the kitchen.

My feet stumble. My eyes widen. My heart stutters, and my stomach sinks.

Sat at the small table with a cup of tea in front of her and her arms crossed over her chest, she smiles. “Hello, Frazer.”

What – the – fuck?

“Mother?”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Daisy