Page 93 of Always Beth
‘He did what?’ I stand abruptly, forgetting I’m now carrying extra weight and wobble slightly before steadying myself.
‘He had no right…’
I pull my cheque book from my bag and search manically for a pen. Leaning forward, Caroline grips me by the arm, willing me to look at her.
‘Beth, I’ve known him for years. This isn’t something James would have done lightly. He’s a brilliant barrister and a shrewd businessman and believe me, if he didn’t care deeply for you, he would never have done it. His biggest fear was that you’d think this was charity. This was his way of putting right what Stephen did, he wanted every last penny you were awarded to be yours and not to be wasted on legal fees.’
‘It’s not his responsibility to make things right.’
‘He needed to make things right for you, Beth, because he couldn’t for Lauren.’
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Her eyes fall to my stomach and as our eyes meet, I can’t help but hide my heartbreak.
‘I’ve tried to contact him, but I don’t know where he is. I need to—’
She holds her hand up in front of her, pushing her chair back from the desk. ‘I don’t know where he is either, I’m sorry. Mark and I are at the end of our tether, we really are, he doesn’t respond to any of our emails. I shouldn’t give it to you, but you can take his private email address, if you’d like? Maybe he’ll reply to you.’
I shake my head as I wipe the stray tears from my cheeks. ‘No, it’s okay, by the sounds of it, he doesn’t want to be found. He’s clearly trying to move on and I should do the same.’
James
‘James, I’m going to charge you rent if you keep taking residence up here.’ Glancing up at Samuel, I smile and tip my glass towards him, signalling for another.
I think the barman is getting sick of seeing my ugly mug. My evening drinking sessions have now turned into weekend ones. I’ve nothing else to do apart from drown my sorrows, blocking it all out. Thankfully my week keeps me busy enough and part of me likes the simplicity of it all. For the first time in my career, I’m not taking my work home, but I can’t forget some of the things I’ve seen or read – it puts the cases of some of the clients I had back home into perspective. Fresh ice hits my glass and immediately begins to melt in the heat of the bar. As the amber liquid fills the tumbler, I nod in appreciation, knocking it back in one quick mouthful. I smile as Samuel’s eyes burn into me, he’s going to ask me the same question he’s asked me every evening for the last few weeks.
‘Who is she?’
Rolling my lips together, I let out a deep breath and rub my eyes. ‘It’s two of them.’
‘Two? You lucky—’
I chuckle, cutting him off, I know what he’s thinking. ‘No. One of them is my sister and the other, well, I don’t know what she is anymore.’Dogsitter?
He roughly dries a glass and places it on the shelf behind him. ‘Do they not get on?’
‘They got on like a house on fire.’ He raises an eyebrow in confusion. ‘Really well, they got on really well.’
‘They don’t anymore?’
Before the words even leave my mouth, I can hear them shake. ‘My sister, she died, and the day after her funeral I left for here and I left this person behind and I think she might have been the love of my life and I’ve probably lost the one good thing I had left.’
Pulling out a second glass, he places it next to mine and fills them both, we lift our glasses and this time I take a smaller mouthful. ‘This is Argentina, not the moon, why don’t you try calling her?’ he says, emptying his tumbler in one go.
Calling her. If only it were that simple. She would have given up trying by now, deep down part of me hopes she has, but I’m too scared to find out.
‘I fear it may be too late for that,’ I say, taking another drawn-out mouthful.
‘It’s never too late, trust me. Sometimes we forget how lucky we are when other forces take over.’
Images of her flash through my mind, I don’t need to speak to her to know that I hurt her by leaving, it was written all over her face that day.
Samuel turns my phone over and pushes it across the bar towards me. ‘What time is it in England right now?’
I swallow hard as I glimpse at the tiny clock behind the bar. ‘If it’s six here it’s ten in the evening at home.’
‘Perfect.’ Lifting my phone, he forces it into my hand.
I scroll through my contacts and hover over her name. Despite an afternoon of drinking my mouth becomes suddenly dry. ‘I don’t think I can call her. It’s been too long. What am I going to say,sorry I haven’t been in touch, how’s Dick?’
