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THE THIRD
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Thirty Days THE THIRD pt2
Slowly the noise picks up again; all those people who were ready to come to our aid politely returning to their seats to give us some privacy. You have got to love the British; ready to rise to the occasion and then happy to politely pretend like it never happened. Moments later I feel a large arm come around the both of us and guide us into the reassuring warmth of the kitchen which is now empty, apart from Andreas’ hulking frame. A moment later Bea bustles in and hands us each a mug of sweet tea which she urges us to drink in that motherly tone of hers that she reserves for the people she loves. Nicola and I sip our tea in silence as the reality of the situation sinks in. What could be so important that Richard would risk walking into Bread & Cake to scare the crap out of his baby sister? He must realise by now how much surveillance is around the place; seriously I am pretty sure Fort Knox doesn’t even have this much security. My phone starts to ring and sure enough, it is Taylo
Thirty Days THE FOURTH
Dr Grohl sits in his usual seat, his ever-present notebook perched on his lap, a Mont Blanc pen tapping against his upper lip as I describe how I stood up to Richard in the shop yesterday. “I know if it had been just me and him things would have probably been different,” I explain. “But knowing that I had a whole roomful of people behind me made me feel like, for once, I had the power. Richard couldn’t intimidate me and, for the first time ever, I got to be the rescuer rather than needing to be rescued.” David nods his head but doesn’t speak, indicating that I should continue with a wave of his fingers. “I sometimes feel like I live in this constant state of near panic like he’s the bogeyman and I am always looking over my shoulder wondering when he is going to next jump out at me. And I can’t even escape him when I sleep,” I say with a shrug. “Are you still having nightmares?” David asks, looking concerned. “Like clockwork,” I say with a sigh. “If it’s not Richard then it’s Hanna
Thirty Days THE FOURTH pt 2
There is something fabulous about an impromptu day out at the seaside. Yeah, I know Brighton has its own seafront, but there is nothing like sinking your feet into gorgeous golden sands rather than pebbles to actually make you feel like you have escaped on holiday. Instinct had driven me when I had climbed behind the wheel of my little beast and somehow I had ended up in Bournemouth, a gorgeous seaside town on the Dorset coastline. Nonna and I had often gone there on day trips when I was young enough that a bucket and spade could amuse me all day long. Driving along the seafront I had experienced a swell of nostalgia that had brought back happy memories of ice-creams melting into the sand and fish-and-chip suppers before climbing into Nonna’s tiny little car where I would inevitably fall asleep on the drive back to Brighton. It was still mid-morning by the time I parked up near the pier. I was under no impression that I was alone, I was certain my security was somewhere reporting ba
Thirty Days THE FOURTH pt3
The cottage has a slightly musty air as we haven’t been down for some time. Taylor’s housekeeper comes in weekly, but it is not enough to get rid of that somewhat abandoned feeling about it. The first thing I do is head to the back of the cottage and pull back the enormous bi-fold doors until the entire room is exposed to the garden. I sniff the air appreciatively as the scent of freshly mown grass permeates the surroundings. I am just stepping out onto the patio when Taylor calls to me to ask if I fancy a barbeque tonight and when I respond that it sounds great he lets me know that he is popping out to the village store to get some meat and other bits and pieces. I briefly contemplate heading out with him but then decide what I really need is a shower. I have just emerged from the cubicle when I notice Taylor sitting on the lid of the toilet watching me. I hadn’t even heard him come in and now feel slightly embarrassed that he had caught me singing very off-key. “You could have war
Thirty Days THE FIFTH
My hands are shaking as I drive into Brighton. Taylor was gone this morning when I woke for an early meeting in London so I took my time getting up. The bathtub was just too tempting so I spent a good hour wallowing like a happy hippo until the water turned cool and my fingers and toes began to resemble prunes. Coffee and croissants on the patio followed until I finally had to admit to myself that the holiday was over and it was time to get back to reality, something that was compounded when my mum called to tell me that the flat was ready and that they needed me to view it this morning before final sign off on the construction. I had been so tempted to call Taylor and ask him to be there with me, but I knew that he had so much on his plate at the moment and that it would be too unfair of me to ask. Hence the pep talk to myself, telling me to get a grip and put my big-girl panties on. It is only a damn flat for heaven’s sake! But my hands continue to shake right until the point that
Thirty Days THE FIFTH pt2
I break away from the hug when I hear some voices coming from the stairs, noticing two heads popping up. “We couldn’t wait to see it all finished,” Bea says with a twinkle in her eye. “Yeah, the suspense has been killing us,” Andreas chuckles. “Come up,” I call over. “This place is incredible…” I trail off not sure what other words I can use. Truth be told I am completely overwhelmed and I feel like I am probably missing loads of important details. But this is now my home and I can’t wait to pack up my stuff from the apartment and move in here properly. “It’s all here already,” Taylor says reading my mind. “The team moved our stuff last night while we were at the cottage.” Bea and Andreas disappear down the corridor to the bedrooms with my mum so I slide my arms around Taylor. “Have I told you today just how much I love you?” I ask earnestly, staring up into Taylor’s chocolate-brown eyes. “Hmm, not today,” Taylor responds with a light laugh. “Well, I love you very much, Mr Huds
Thirty Days THE SIXTH – THE NINTH
Taylor once asked me what you do when all your dreams come true and my response had been that you make new ones. Throughout the long Easter weekend, I wandered around the flat in a state of semi-permanent shock. It felt almost surreal that, after all these months, the place was finally ours. Part of me, the niggly, annoying girl who was so determined to succeed on her own, was still whispering in my ear that I shouldn’t have let Taylor pay for it. But the saner part of me realises that for better or for worse we are in this together and why shouldn’t he contribute to the place we will be calling ‘home’? I love the fact that I can just pop my head downstairs to see how things are going in the café and bakery and then be able to retreat back up here for a nap if needs be. I loved sitting in my mini garden on the first morning as the sun rose in the sky, sipping on my coffee while curled up under a blanket on the wicker chair that I have claimed as my own. And I loved falling asleep in
Thirty Days THE TENTH
Taylor seems nervous as he dresses. Pulling the light blue shirt over his broad frame I notice his hands shaking slightly as he does the buttons up. He pulls on his trousers and I realise that he is wearing his ‘good luck’ suit, the one he pulls out when he has to make a significant pitch. I am curious because he hasn’t mentioned any new projects for a while. “Have you got a big meeting today?” I ask, sitting up in bed and trying to adjust my body into a position that feels vaguely comfortable. “Something like that,” Taylor mumbles while studiously avoiding my eyes. “Taylor…” I say with a warning in my voice. “Okay, look, I am going to go hear the opening statements for Hannah’s trial.” Taylor looks past me as if, by not making eye contact, he can get away with whatever he has planned. “But Taylor we both agreed…” My voice is low but firm as I remind him of the resolution we made only a couple of days ago. Taylor quickly interrupts me, “I know what we both agreed, but I can’t ju
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