Cross Your Mind, page 8
“Next time, love.” Mum came in for a hug.
AJ turned for the door and received a sharp cough. He quickly spun one-eighty, grabbed Jem’s waist, and brought her in for a kiss. “Shall I come by later, putus?”
“Dunno, maybe,” Jemima said, a little crabby.
“You know I’ll put in the work.” He raised an eyebrow and shifted his hands to her ass.
“AJ!” Jemima scolded.
He backed away with a grin and gave us a swooping bow. “Laters, ladies.”
I turned to the rest. “Are we having a quiet one?”
“Yeah, Tracy wants her nails done, so I may as well do everyone’s,” Kim said, unpacking her kit. She’d trained as a beauty therapist after leaving school and was now working at a Chelsea boutique. It was an occupation that fitted her perfectly. She had the sort of glamour achieved through a flawless beauty routine and excellent fashion sense, but it was coupled with a natural, edgy appeal—long, poker-straight blonde hair and a cool manner made for the catwalk.
“Can you do my eyebrows too? I look like a yeti,” Jemima whined, already over the minor tiff.
Kim rolled her eyes in fake mockery. “I suppose, as we’re celebrating your big sale.”
“What’s this?”
“I just sold that flat on Cheyne Row for five million and banked ten grand in commission.” Jemima finished her glass and held it out for Kim to top up.
“Nice one, Jem.” She’d landed an admin job at a prestigious Kensington and Chelsea estate agent straight out of school and had worked her way up the ranks.
“You wanna glass, Nancy?” Kim offered.
“Nah, I’ll leave it.”
“You look a bit peaky, love.” Mum came over, looking concerned while simultaneously eyeing my motorcycle gear. She wasn’t a fan.
“I just need some sleep.”
“Dinner’s almost ready, but you could have a power nap.”
“It smells amazing, but my stomach’s playing up.”
Mum felt my forehead. “You’re cold. Have you eaten today?”
“Yeah, I had a big lunch.”
“Of course, your work do. How was it?”
“Good. Uneventful.” I shrugged, more than happy to keep those embarrassing details to myself.
“Where did they take you?” Kim asked.
I considered, but I couldn’t remember the eateries near Toverton Tower. They all tended to merge into the background when you never went inside. “Er…to that restaurant at the top of The Gherkin.”
Everyone stopped and stared at me.
“That’s fancy for a work lunch,” Kim said, her curiosity piqued. “Was it a special occasion?”
“Yeah. Goldfields were pitching to a potential client, so they wanted to schmooze them. You know what these corporate types expect,” I dug deeper.
“You have gone up in the world,” Mum said proudly.
“I’m gonna get changed if we’re chilling.” I backed away to the safety of my bedroom and picked out my most comfortable lounge-wear: a teddy bear onesie with drawstring pompoms dangling from a fleecy hood. Instantly more relaxed but still feeling tender in my belly, I rechecked my phone, still finding no message. I put it on charge and turned it off, having had enough emotional torture for one day.
Just then, the angry buzz of our ancient doorbell travelled through the flat, followed a few seconds later by cooing, and then “Nancy!” bellowed at the top of Mum’s voice. I scurried out and was met with an enormous display of dusky pink roses, blue delphiniums, and forget-me-nots. I instantly knew who’d sent them. The colours perfectly matched the dress I’d worn today.
Busted! My gut clenched.
The three stood looking baffled.
“These are for you,” Mum said, barely able to see over the blooms. “Would you like to explain?”
I absolutely wouldn’t, but there was no getting out of it now. How the hell did Alex find out our address? I remembered saying we lived on World’s End in a council flat, but I hadn’t revealed anything more, and we kept our details off any public records. No doubt his family had connections with the bigwigs at the council. I should’ve been more careful.
My internal conversation must have been written on my face because Mum was now looking warily at me. “You don’t seem pleased, whoever he is.”
I shook my head and tried to smile as I took the display. “It’s just a surprise, that’s all.”
“That’s usually the idea when someone sends you flowers, love.”
I nodded distractedly, placed the bouquet on the counter, and removed the note from the stalk.
Thank you for a wonderful lunch. I’d love to see you again.
Are you free tomorrow evening? A x
I smiled, running my thumb over Alex’s familiar cursive. So that was why he hadn’t texted. He’d wanted to surprise me with flowers to set up our next date.
“Oh my god, Nancy! Are you gonna say who they’re from? I’m dying here,” Mum admonished.
I turned to her pensively. “They’re from a guy at work. We met earlier this week, and…he took me to lunch today.”
“So all that about a work lunch was BS? When did you become such a dark horse?” She stalked over to the stove, and I rolled my eyes. Am I not allowed one secret?
“Are you seriously telling us you’re dating someone?” Jemima said in wonder.
“We had one lunch together.” I shrugged, contemplating hiding in my room for the rest of the evening.
“Well, he’s serious if he sent you those. They’ll cost at least two hundred quid,” Kim said, ever knowledgeable about anything with a luxury price tag.
“Err, deets, please! What’s he like? How old? Is he hot? He must be rich to send you these.” Jemima danced over to smell the bouquet.
“Tall, white, brown hair, athletic, twenty-eight,” I mumbled, rubbing my gut.
“Are you giving us a police lineup?” Kim laughed.
“Oh. My. Days. Li’l sis, you’re blushing!” Jemima poked my side.
“Oye! Shut up!” I swatted her arm away.
“Leave her be, but you will tell me everything.” Mum turned from the stove and squeezed my arm, softening. “They’re lovely, and you deserve them, yeah?”
“You should invite him to Ride for your birthday next week,” Kim proposed with glee, and I shot her a ‘thanks a lot’ look she was used to. She smirked. “We’d love to meet this mystery man.”
I smirked back. “And give him the third degree.”
“And check he’s good enough for you. You’re a catch, girl. Ain’t no giving it away to some creep.” Jemima sniffed the heady scent.
“You don’t give me much credit.” Despite Jem being nine and ten months older than me and Kim, respectively, and therefore our ‘big sis’ as she liked to say, she sure could put her foot in it. “I’ll ask him, but I don’t think it’s his scene.”
“What would be his scene?” Jem fished.
“I don’t know. I’ve not heard the music he listens to. Maybe something classic. He’s kind of an old soul.”
“Is he posh?” Kim asked.
“Yeah, he lives in Chelsea.”
Kim tilted her head sardonically. “As do we.”
I rubbed my belly. I wasn’t sure if it was the romantic surprise, the inquisition, or the unsettledness that hadn’t left me since the passion in the back of the car, but I was feeling worse by the second.
Mum immediately noticed. “Y’alright, love?”
“I don’t feel great.”
“I’ll serve up in a minute. You probably need a meal.”
The smell of rich and spicy coconut curry shot through me. It was the last straw. I bolted to the bathroom and promptly vomited.
“Nancy!” Jemima ran in with Mum.
“What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know.” I knelt, trembling on the floor as my heart pounded.
“I’ll get some water,” Kim called from the kitchen.
Mum looked at Jemima with familiar concern. “Let’s get her into bed.” The pair took me by the arms and helped me up.
“I’m okay, honestly,” I said, feeling clammy all over.
“No, you’re not, and you’re staying right here.”
“Mum, I’m not a little girl.”
“Tough! You’ll always be my little girl. Now, stay put.”
Kim brought in the water and put it on the bedside table. “Do you want us to go?”
“No, don’t leave because of me. Just hang out and do your nails.”
Kim stroked my arm. “It’s fine, babes. It’s been a while since you’ve had an anxiety attack, but they’re bound to still happen here and there, especially if you’ve started dating.”
I stared at her in shock. How did I not put it all together myself? I knew what this feeling was. It had been over four years since my last attack, but it was plain as day now that Kim had said it.
“If you girls don’t mind, we’d better call it a night.”
“Course, Tracy, we’ll leave you be,” Kim said.
“Text me, yeah?” Jem squeezed my hand.
“Will do. Thanks, you two.”
“Anytime, anywhere, anyhow.” Kim gave me a pearly grin, and I managed a small smile.
“You’re the best.”
“We know!” Jemima hollered as they left.
Mum sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling now?”
“Pretty pathetic, to be honest.”
“Hey, none of that,” she said softly. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“That you’re courageous as always.”
“For being ill,” I sighed.
“For being brave enough to go outside your comfort zone.” Mum stroked my hair, and I met her eyes. “I’ve got a family cut and colour for most of tomorrow, but I can rearrange.”
“No, don’t cancel. I’ll stay in bed and sleep it off, and I can call you if anything happens.”
She looked ready to protest, but in the end, she conceded. “Okay, love, but you ring me if anything feels off.”
“I will. Promise.”
Mum rose and kissed me on the forehead. “Wake me if you need to.”
“Okay… I love you.” I squeezed her hand, the girl inside wanting her to stay, but I let her go after a few moments.
“I love you, too. Get some rest.” She turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness. I waited a moment before switching on the fairy lights hanging from the headboard. Twenty-two, and I still need a night light. With a sigh, I pulled the satin bonnet over my curls, hugged my pillow, and let exhaustion take me.
16. ALEX
“HI, YOU’VE REACHED NANCY COOPER. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you,” Nancy’s voicemail declared in her sunny tone. I cancelled the call, having already left five messages, and paced another circuit around the kitchen, continuing to forget the now cold coffee on the island.
Why is her phone turned off?
I’d heard nothing since dropping her after our date, and no matter how hard I tried to rationalise it, I couldn’t stop a rising feeling of panic.
Surely, she would’ve replied by now…unless something was wrong.
I knew I shouldn’t have called her so many times that she’d think I was some unhinged stalker, but what if she’d decided to end us before we had a chance to start?
Since our heated liaison in the car, I’d done nothing but fret. I couldn’t concentrate through my afternoon meetings or at dinner with William, who’d had the cheek to call me ‘clingy’ and ‘creepy’ when I told him about the flowers. After that, there was no way I could settle. Hours passed without a reply, so I sent Nancy a text…then another…and possibly a third. Then followed a night of fevered and, quite frankly, explicit dreams. Thankfully, rowing took up my morning, but since then, I’d been calling her.
Was my reaction unreasonable? Certainly. Out of character? Definitely! But as soon as our lips brushed, I knew I wanted more. I wanted everything. Yet my desire, intensified by a sex-free couple of months, had me tumbling back into old behaviours.
I was accustomed to women doing the chasing, so needy, I simply took whatever they were offering without much consideration. It was a toxic cycle I’d been caught up in for years, which had come to a head with Mimi, literally. The last thing I wanted was to start on the same foot with Nancy, but in the car, I’d allowed lust to take over. Everything about the moment resembled what I knew, but it felt completely different.
Her body had trembled with nerves and excitement as we kissed, and when I’d pulled her onto me, she’d gripped my hair so tightly I’d hardened like an iron rod. I simply couldn’t get enough when our desire felt so right. But in a moment, all that passion had become fear.
She’d tried to hide it after pushing away from me so violently she’d landed in a crumpled heap in the footwell, but I saw it clear as day. I understood that look well, and being the cause felt like a punch in the gut. Since then, an unfamiliar wrenching sensation had clung to me. It was torturous.
What if she never wants to speak to the menace who’d felt her up after telling her he’d go slow?
There was no way I could wait until Monday, not knowing if she was okay. I had to do something. I needed to take action.
The next moment, my car keys were in my hand, and I was in the garage, climbing into the Bentley.
Alex, this is madness! a reasonable voice tried to interject, but I’d already started the engine.
Ten minutes later, I pulled up at her block.
How the hell will you explain turning up uninvited at her home? I pushed the rational question aside and ran for the door, holding it open for a mother exiting with a pram.
“The lifts are still out. Can you believe that? Ten floors with a buggy. It’s a bloody joke!” she stormed past, and I nodded in confusion, pushing inside.
The flat numbers showed that Nancy lived on the fourteenth floor. Looking over at the out-of-order signs, I drew a deep breath and turned for the stairs.
17. NANCY
I OPENED MY BLEARY EYES and felt a thump repeating in my head like a kick-drum. I sat up, feeling resentful. Then, I realised it wasn’t my head thudding—it was the front door. I shot around in alarm just as the banging stopped and was immediately replaced by bellowing.
“Nancy! Nancy, are you in there?” Alex called through the letterbox.
I fisted the duvet. Why the hell has he come to the flat? Maybe he would go away if I kept quiet. He couldn’t see me in this state. Talk about the opposite effect of yesterday!
The banging restarted, louder than before. I threw back the duvet and stepped into my slippers, cursing as I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. A puffy-eyed woman in a teddy onesie wearing a bonnet stared back.
“Nancy, please, are you there?” Alex shouted, sounding catatonic, and held down the buzzer. At this rate, he’d have Winston raging. The man cherished his weekend lie-ins.
I debated it, but in the end, I pulled the pink bonnet off, opting instead for bed hair. “I’m coming,” I tried to shout with a dry throat while furiously teasing my curls back into shape. I paced to the door and opened it to find Alex kneeling.
“Thank god you’re okay!” He scrambled to his feet, running his hands through sweat-dampened hair.
I took in how different he looked, not just his demeanour, which was usually calm and confident, but his outfit, too. Gone was the tailored three-piece suit, and in its place were hugging jeans and a well-worn, royal-blue Henley displaying the crossed oars emblem of the Chelsea Rowers club. The relaxed style transformed the man I only knew from his commanding position in a City skyscraper. Here, he was his youthful twenty-eight years. He was so…normal-looking.
“Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” He eyed me with uncertainty, which promptly turned into deep concern. “Are you sick?” He pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. “You feel cold.”
I smiled at his warm touch, strangely unfazed by his closeness. “Yeah, I haven’t felt good since last night.”
“You need to sit down,” he said, and I gestured for him to enter. He closed the door behind him and placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me to the sofa.
I sat, and he joined me, invading my cushion. “Alex, why are you here?”
“I haven’t heard from you since lunch. I thought something bad had happened.”
“Oh shit, sorry. I meant to text you last night, but I went straight to sleep after I felt ill.” I rubbed at the scratchiness in my throat.
“Let me get you some water.” He marched to the kitchen to find a glass and took in the flowers proudly placed on the counter.
“They’re beautiful. They’re the colours of my dress, right?”
“They made me think of you. I wanted you to know I was thinking about you after lunch.” He returned and handed me the water.
I took a long drink. “How did you find out my address?”
“I looked you up.” He sat close again. “You said you lived on World’s End Estate.”
I nodded, considering whether to push it further, but decided to leave it. He was here now. “It’s nice to see you. I’m sorry if I freaked you out. As you see, I’m not exactly receiving visitors.”
He eyed my fashion statement. “I think you look cute as a button.”
“That’s both cheesy and impossible. I’m a mess.”
“I assure you I mean it, bella donna,” he said sincerely. I smiled at his endearment and reached for his hand. He jolted back at my touch. “You’re bloody freezing!”
“I do feel a little shivery.”
“Is there a bath here?”
“Yeah, through there, but I’ll be okay.”
“You don’t feel okay. I’m running you a hot bath. Keep drinking water,” he said commandingly before striding.
I sipped my drink, smiling at his fussy sounds through the door.
“It’s running cold!” he shouted a few minutes later.
“The boiler’s been playing up!”
He paced back through to the kitchen and filled the kettle. I watched in amazement as he made four trips for hot water. Then he returned to my side, lifted me into his arms, and carried me through to the bathroom. “Have you eaten today?”
