AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I negotiated the few steps at the club entrance carefully as I did not want to go arse over tit now. Martinson had parked the Jaguar up twenty or so metres away from the entrance. The pavement outside the doorway was crowded with scantily clad women and brash men shouting uncouth words at each other. I was jostled by elbows and shoulders as other clubbers struggled to keep their balance. Drunkenness was rife and I tried to negotiate a path to the car. As I approached, Martinson got out and came to meet me, guiding me with his hand flat against my back. He opened the passenger door for me. Clambering in I sat next to Jason and he nodded to Martinson as if communicating something. The car quickly sped off down the street.
I could not speak - what to say? He was mad at me, more than mad. Not even a glance my way. I shivered, the cold of the night had cleared my head and the nauseous sensation had thankfully dissipated. Looking at my hands, I tried to fathom out why he was so mad. He had never told me not to go out in the evenings, or drink or dance. I had danced with a small group of men, but no kissing or touching them. I must have overstepped an invisible line about which he had not informed me. We pulled up outside my apartment. Clutching my purse, I hesitated, not knowing what to do precisely.
“Are you coming in?” I finally plucked up the courage to speak to him.
“No. I’ve no intention of coming in,” his voice slipped out of his mouth like acid. Jason looked me straight in the eye. “You’re too drunk.”
A simple explanation, but somehow I did not think that he was giving the real reason why he was not joining me. Without a goodbye or anything, I climbed out of the car and fumbled with my door key. Glancing back as I shut the door, I saw the car head off into the night.
Chapter 14
A horribly bright Thursday morning and I was dreadfully hung-over. The worst case of headache and dry nauseating mouth in a long time. I was late for work by an hour. Andy did not comment; he did not care and neither did I. I pondered whether I should have sent an apologetic text to Jason about my drunkenness. I could not think what to put in it and gave up on the idea.
Friday I was better, at least I was not hung-over. My report was finished and I was deleting redundant files and personal stuff off my company laptop ready to hand it back. Rather surprisingly, the girls in the office had brought cakes in as a farewell treat. We stood around for afternoon coffee break, awkwardly making small talk. When it came to five o’clock, I took one last look around my desk for anything that I needed to take with me. Nope, I was all clear.
My plastic bag contained a few morsels of personal life. A photograph of my immediate family, the doodles I had scrawled during lunchtimes, which I had to admit had the beginnings of something more substantial and a small collection of half-used stationery items. For a few weeks, I had made a good impression in my work and it was all a big gamble leaving. My resume would show a handful of weeks in a lucrative internship and then the employment record would end abruptly, not the best selling point to have in your curriculum vitae. I hoped Jason could work some magic or else I was staring at unemployment for a lengthy period.
He would look after me – wouldn’t he? What if it all came to a dramatic premature end? I could not envisage him simply dumping me high and dry. The allowance he had given me was not the trivial spending money of a part-time insignificant girlfriend. The nagging doubts remained though as I grasped the handle of my bag.
Penny trooped over and pecked at my cheek. “All the best Gemma, stay in touch.”
I did not think she meant it. Amanda pecked the other cheek in that silly way girls do when pretending to be lovey dovey and friendly. Libby just waved from her desk.
I handed my pass and laptop in at the security desk. That was it, I was finished my last day at J.D.Lucas Ltd and I had absolutely no idea what the future held for me. I was unemployed, in a crazy relationship with an autocratic dominant and homeless. I hoped I had made the right decision.
***
Checking around my apartment, boxes piled in the hallway, labelled up for transporting to Jason’s two houses. A mix of clothes at each property. I had not touched my allowance yet, as I was unsure what exactly he expected me to buy - posh frocks or formal work attire? The bin bags, which contained years of hoarded inconsequential objects, were to be dwelt with at the same time. Martinson rang me twice during the day to check on what needed doing on Saturday. The furniture at least stayed in the rented apartment. I switched off the lights and headed out to the waiting car. The back seat was empty, no Jason to greet me tonight. I was full of apprehension and it was not a pleasant sensation.
To emphasise my anxieties, Blythewood was cold and dark - winter was starting to arrive. I switched on a few lights and headed into the kitchen deciding cooking was the best therapy. I was slicing through a pepper when I heard the front door, not quite a slam at least. I guessed he had gone into the sitting room. I waited for him to come and find me. I managed ten minutes of feeling despondent in my kitchen isolation, perhaps he did not want me here anymore. What the hell was going on?
I headed off to investigate. Jason had lit the fire and was nursing it into a blaze. Knelt back he was prodding the kindling with a poker and staring at the licking flames. No heat permeated out of the freshly lit fire. Frowning, I wondered if I was supposed to have lit the fire. Seeing me, he stood up and continued to stand looking at the orange flames.
“I’ve been preparing dinner,” I attempted a conversation. “I handed in my laptop, my pass. Everything is packed up ready to go...”
No response from him, not a peep. Suddenly I was scared at what I was doing with him.
“Oh God, Jason, I don’t understand what you want from me!” My voice broke with emotion. “I’ve given up my job, my home to be here with you and you don’t exactly welcome me with open arms.”
I was close to tears, hand to mouth I stopped my outburst. Jason turned to look at me with his hands on his hips, such an unwelcoming pose.
“Oh, Christ!” I exclaimed.
Nothing in his face to give me comfort. Something was going on more than my moving in and the only thing that had happened to rile him badly was my night out with Trudy.
“What did I do so wrong on Wednesday? You never said I couldn’t go out with friends.” I wanted to stamp my feet in exasperation at him. “I mean, how did you even know I was there? I take it you don’t hang about in bars regularly.”
“Enough, Gemma!” he shouted me down, finger pointing at me.
He came closer to me. I flinched wondering if he was going to hit me, not that he ever had in the classic way, the slap across the face. My small act of visual apprehension jolted him into changing his stance.
“I was concerned about you,” his voice was calmer, though no warmer.
“Concerned? You had me followed... you have me followed?” I repeated. What other explanation could there be?
“You go out, get drunk, dance with strangers, of course I have you followed! How else can I protect you?”
Protect me? From what?
