Against The Odds Page 6

  “Oops, sorry!” he said, unable to comprehend her body’s response to him. It was completely unexpected. God, I want to touch her again, to see if it happens again.

  Rebecca was silent. Oh God, it was here. It was trying to frighten him away. No, not now. Let him kiss me, hold me and love me first, not now.

  “Oh, it’s okay. Clayton, do you....”

  “What?” His voice was sharp.

  “Oh, never mind. Let’s go.”

  She wanted to ask him to make love to her and hold her, because she did not know whether he would be with her the next day. How could she say that to him? He was already upset about something.

  In the car, he put on strange, gothic music which was depressing her. God, it is happening too soon. He is walking away already. She was just getting to love his quirky ways, the way he always seemed to have ink on his hand, the way he ate meat like it was the last time he would ever see it, the way he had looked at her with such longing. It was going too soon.

  “So, is everything arranged for Double J and their trip to the mountains?”

  “Yes, they tell me you don’t want to be there. Why, Rebecca?”

  “Because I am a difficult person. My life can be complicated in ways you cannot understand. Because it is too difficult for me.”

  “Tell me, please, Rebecca, tell me. I want to help you.”

  “Oh Clayton, please, just let it go. I do not want to discuss it. I... things are not what they seem. I am not what I seem.”

  “Rebecca, do not treat me like a child. If you do not want my friendship, just say so. But those games are tiring. I have heard it all. What can you say that would so different? Please spare me the drama, okay?”

  “Fine, I will spare you the ‘drama’. I have nothing to say about the matter. Is that satisfactory?”

  “No, but at least you are being honest.”

  He did not speak to her again, but took her inside, where her parents were pretending to be watching television. Since they never watched television and had not owned one since Rebecca had left, their ploy was embarrassingly obvious.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, Clayton will definitely have coffee. Come, my boy, sit here and tell me about your work. Jono tells me you do mostly legislative drafting these days.”

  “Yes, I have tried to cut down the litigation, mostly opinions and drafting. I have a good team that does any litigation. The drafting is fun, but takes too much time. Do you still practice?”

  “No, not really. My wife freaks out every time I do a case. I try to do the occasional one, if it is interesting. It keeps the muscles moving, you know.”

  Rebecca had gone to the kitchen and as she walked in, she had an odd sense. She looked at the two men sitting there and there was something so similar about them. She stared for a while, the tray in her hand, confused by the idea that they looked like father and son. She shook off the notion. Her father had dark hair and dark eyes and Clayton was the exact opposite. Perhaps all lawyers look alike.

  “Sweetpea, are you okay?”

  “Yes, Dad, of course. Now, are you boring my mother with legal speak?”

  “No dear. I am watching this programme on TV. Let them talk about it, otherwise your father will want to tell me about law. Anyway, it will stop you and Clayton from fighting.”

  “Mother! We are not fighting.”

  “Yes, you are. You have that stubborn look in your eyes and he looks like you just beat him up. What are you fighting about?”

  “Nothing.”

  Rowena looked at her husband.

  Come on, help them. She is so scared she is going to collapse!

  Don’t interfere, woman. Let it be.

  Now!

  Okay. Nag!

  Wimp!

  Let’s see if you say that when one of your Darkness friends visits!

  “Stop it, you two. I hate when you do that!”

  “No, Rebecca. This is fun. They are having a fight. It is delightful. How do you two do that?”

  “How do you know they are fighting?”

  “Can’t you see? Their eyes are clashing.”

  “So what are you two fighting about?” Rebecca asked sweetly.

  “Okay, Sweetpea. You have made your point. We, including your mother, will stop interfering in your business.”

  “We were fighting because your daughter’s too stubborn.” Clayton interrupted.

  Her father laughed. “And you thought, if you force the issue, she would give in. How funny. You poor man. Did she terrorize you? She hates to be told what to do.”

  He was laughing hard now, remembering how Rebecca had defied him and always won.

  “What is the right strategy with her?” Clayton asked, watching her face, as it turned red. She would definitely not be happy being talked about as if she was not there.

  “I have found that you need to charm her. Let her defenses go down, then wham, ask for what you want. It works with her mother and always worked with her.”

  “Dad, stop this!”

  “What is it you want her to do, my boy?”

  Her father was enjoying himself. It was a rare opportunity that he got to gang up against Rebecca.

  “Jono and Jackie want to have their wedding anniversary party at this place in the mountains. They have invited 10 people to spend the weekend with them and Rebecca does not want to go.”

  “Leave it to me.” He winked at Clayton.

  “Dad, you are definitely going too far.”

  “Sweetpea, we are just teasing you. You looked so tense. Relax. You and Clayton sit here and your mother and I will go to bed. Come honey.”

  They left the room, but Rebecca knew they would wait up for her.

  “I like your parents. They have such an intimate relationship. I have never seen a couple like that before.”

  “Yes, but they also know how to drive me crazy. Sorry about earlier okay?”

  His eyes were a dark blue now and he looked at her.

  “Okay, but... no. As your father says, I must charm you. Will it work, Rebecca? Will my charm help?”

  He said it so softly, she barely heard him. He picked up her hand and kissed it lightly. There was no electric shock and he was a little disappointed.

  “Yes”, she whispered.

  Clayton was surprised. He had expected her to shout at him, or say something else. She turned his hand over in hers.

  “Clayton, why do you always have ink on your hand?”

  “Ink?”

  “There”, she put her finger on the spot and the electric shock hit him again. This time it was stronger and he pulled his hand away.

  “It is not ink. It is a birth mark. I have always had it. Rebecca, why does your touch shock me?”

  “I don’t know, Clayton. I don’t know.” He kept looking at her. Dark blue eyes again.

  “Clayton what are you thinking? Your eyes have that look again.”

  “What look?”

  “They get dark blue, then you ask me something difficult, or you accuse me. What is to come, question or accusation?”

  “Question. Do you want to be with me?”

  “Oh okay. That is definitely a dark blue question. Yes.”

  “So why do you turn away from me?”

  “Another dark blue question.”

  His eyes were changing now, a light, icy colour.

  “Rebecca, don’t tease me now, okay? No teasing, no lies.”

  “Because we will hurt each other and I could not bear it. That’s the way it is, isn’t it?”

  Clayton saw the pain in her eyes and he turned suddenly and held her. He had wanted so desperately to do that, to comfort her and she collapsed in his arms. He liked the feeling of comfort he gave her.

  “Rebecca.....”

  “No more dark blue questions, please. It is my turn. Why did you ask me about the butterfly?”

  “What?” Icy blue eyes again. Shit, wrong question, Rebecca.

  “Never mind. It is not impor
tant. Leave it. No more questions tonight, okay?”

  “What are you avoiding, Princess? What lies behind those sparkling black eyes?”

  He moved her away from him, lifted her face and looked into her eyes. Her saw the fear in her and he let it go. She is afraid of me. I should never have asked about the butterfly. Correction. I should never have accused her about the butterfly.

  She closed her eyes and he said, “okay, relax. No more dark blue questions,” and he smiled. His eyes were their bright blue again. The moment had passed.

  “I think I had better go before things get all messy again. Rebecca, I want to talk about this, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He got up and she walked him to the door and she heard it, hissing outside. It had moved to the side of the house, away from where her parents were.

  “Rebecca, go inside. You should not be outside alone. Good night.”

  His voice had been curt. Had he heard it? Had it scared him?

  She threw herself on the couch. Oh God, what can I do? Can I destroy that horrible thing on my own? I have to find a way. I have to have Clayton. He was too wonderful. Yes, there must be a way to kill that miserable fucker! She got up, agitated and plotted and schemed. There must be a way, she convinced herself. She went to bed, filled with fantasies of torture and pain for the creature. None of her plans were even close to realistic, but they made her feel better. Oh Clayton, don’t give up on me yet.

  *****

  Chapter 10

  Clayton was also in despair. As he was leaving her house he had felt that tug again of some urge to protect her. He knew it was not rational. She was safe in her house and her parents were there. Anyway, what could she possibly need protection from except him? What is wrong with me? He had held her and it had been so magnificent. He had touched her and he had loved it. He had also enjoyed the ‘shock treatment’. Imagine what the sex would be like. He had to get her away to Jonathan and Jackie’s anniversary. He would make love to her there and they would shock each other to high heaven. This thought made him smile and he almost forgot about the fear for her safety, but not for long. He got up in the middle of the night, shocked by his dreams.

  Rebecca was bound with thin, silken ropes that he could hardly see. He had just stood there, not seeing them. She was crying out to him, for help, but he could not understand what she was saying. Use your hands, Clayton, please, she screamed, but he did not understand. He stood there helpless, unable to protect her. The dream felt so real that he woke up and could not figure out where he was. That was awful. He got out of bed and paced in his apartment. He walked round and round, in his slow, deliberate way, his short hair spiky on his head, his blue eyes focused.

  If Rebecca could see him now, she would have seen why Nana had called him the white tiger. He was exactly that as he paced. He needed to do something. He knew that Rebecca was tied to his life somehow and he realized he had to do something. The butterfly has something to do with it. He knew she had tried to pretend it was not important, but she had asked him about it. She also wanted to know. The question was why was it important to her? Did it also comfort her? Who had made it for her? Who had the capacity to know how it looked? It was on her back, so the person had to know exactly what they were doing. Rebecca could not have been much help. What is all this? Why am I behaving like this? Also, his connection with her father was disturbing. It cut deep in him. Even when the man joked with him, about looking after his daughter, he knew it meant something. He had not been joking. He had laughed with George, but Clayton knew there was more to it. He realized that she was not afraid of him. She always stood her ground with him and flashed her black eyes at him. She was afraid of someone or something else. Why won’t she just tell me? Why won’t she give me the thing I need, the honesty? Oh Rebecca, he lamented, please, don’t lie to me. I can’t stand it.

  He went to work in the morning, determined to get some answers from her. Her father had been right. If he simply went there, demanding answers, she would flash her eyes and shut off. He would have to do this the long, patient way. He would have to charm her, and when ‘her defenses are down, wham!’ her father had said. This was all new to him. He never dealt with people like this. He walked into their lives, got what he wanted and walked right out. Rebecca was not to be treated that way. She would get the better side of him, the gentle, caring man he had forgotten resided somewhere deep inside him.

  When Jonathan saw him, he was very perturbed. “What kind of date did you have? God, you look awful. Did you misbehave? Any accusations, butterfly, lion?”

  “Jono, not now. I feel awful. What are you doing? I need a long talk.”

  “Hold on. I need to drop off these documents. Come to my office in five minutes. We will go somewhere private.”

  He went to Jonathan’s office and Clayton sat slumped on the chair. He was so tired, but also so desperate to get beyond this confusion. He had already started his work on Rebecca. He sent a bright, yellow pot plant to her office this morning. She loved plants and he knew she would appreciate it. It had taken him some 30 minutes to construct a suitable note. Eventually, it had been two simple lines:

  Princess, thanks for a great dinner.

  Sorry about the dark blues, C.

  Clayton phoned his secretary, and told her he would be out for a while. She seemed to accept this. For once, she did not demand an explanation. Jonathan had gone into an office downstairs and phoned Jackie.

  “It is worse than we thought. There is definitely something wrong. He really looks like an animal now. His eyes are wild and he can’t sit still. He wants to talk. What should I do?”

  “Nothing, darling, just listen. Please do not argue with him and rationalize things. Just listen, okay? I have to go. See you later. Just listen.”

  They went out into the bright sun and Clayton put on his dark glasses. It was too bright and his eyes hurt. They went to the park and Clayton told his story. He told Jonathan everything, the shocks, the arguments, the dream, the father. He left out nothing and Jonathan had such a vivid image of the events that he felt as though he had been there.

  “Clayton, is it possible that there is something wrong with you, not her?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you did growl like a lion that night. I swear. Your hair stood up. Your whole body was different. Your eyes were almost white. I know. I was there. You see, she was perfectly okay. That’s why I think it must be you.”

  “Yes, I have these funny urges. She seems all right, except she is scared.”

  “Of being hurt, Clayton, of being hurt. Let’s face it. You are not the gentlest man when it comes to women, are you? ‘Hit-and-run’?”

  “Yes, but she knows I won’t do that to her.”

  Jonathan just raised his eyebrows. Jackie is going to kill me for arguing and rationalizing.

  “Clayton, why is the butterfly so important to you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I just feel it. I feel there is something I need to do. She knows what it is. I can see her withdrawing when I try to ask her.”

  “Why not ask her parents?”

  “Because she would kill me and then both of them. Because I want her to trust me, to be honest with me. I want it from her, not her parents, or anyone else. I need it from her. Jono, I love this woman. No, it is not just sex. I feel her right inside of me and she feels me too.”

  “One more thing, Clayton, this shocking business. I don’t think I understand. I am thinking that it only happens when your hands are on her body. You hugged her and nothing happened. Is it you? Too much male hormone or something?”

  “Yes, that is possible. I never thought about it that far.”

  “Also, how did you know the waiter was going to spill the wine?”

  “I did not know.”

  “If I do a rough estimate, you were about here? She was about here? And the waiter, where?”

  “Here, just over her shoulder.”

  “Okay, now, if the glass was about to
spill, you moved from here? To here? Before it spilled? That is impossible, my friend, unless you knew the glass would fall. In which case, you would have arisen from your seat like this, leaned over and caught it. The other option is that you were sitting right next to her, in which case it might have been possible.”

  “No, I was across the table. What do you mean I must have known? That is not logical.”

  “No, neither is my best friend becoming a lion or talking to butterflies.”

  “Clayton, you said you felt a connection with her father. That is why I ask if you knew about the glass. You see, just before you arrived, the old man walked to the door and waited for you to ring the bell. He already knew you were on your way. It was a small thing, but I noticed it.”

  “What does this mean?”

  “I don’t know. What else does he do that is...,ur... different?”

  “He talks to his wife in his head. They had a huge fight, right before my eyes. Not a word passed between them.”

  “How did you know they were fighting?”

  “I don’t know, maybe their facial expressions or something. I did not think about it.”

  “No, I also noticed that. But I could never tell whether they were fighting. I could tell they were talking, quickly, because their eyes were slightly wider when they ‘spoke’. There were no facial expressions, I am sure.”

  “Clayton, don’t laugh. But do you know what Rebecca is thinking?”

  He laughed. “We would not be having this conversation if I did. I would give anything to get into her head. But, you know, I can sometimes tell what she is feeling, like when there is pain or fear. She has never told me that, but I have known. Also, the first time we met, something was happening to her. She stared right into my eyes, looking for something.”

  “Yes, and to you too. I remember I told Jackie how odd it was.”

  There was a long silence.

  “I think I am also going crazy. I think you are to Rebecca what her father is to her mother.”

  “What are you talking about, what?”