Drawing Blood (26 page)

Chapter Forty-Five

David

The cabinets were done and stained, installed. The wall tiled behind the new countertops, a stainless steel sink brand new and shining under a new faucet. The new fridge hummed a lot quieter than the old one did. He moved that one to the basement with help from Elliot.

He proudly filled the cupboards with new plates, bowls, cups and glasses. All the new kitchen utensils had their place in the drawers. Cleaners went under the sink. He had no idea he had the ability to make cabinets and doors, but he just sat down and figured it out. He was good at math, it was the only subject in school that was black and white, and numbers never lied. Cabinets were a lot of geometry, but it made sense to him. And if he did say so himself: they turned out fantastic. He just had to finish painting and the trim work and it was done.

He had some toast for supper. He wasn’t a fan of big suppers; they usually left him with weird dreams. Better than scary dreams but still weird.

As he was settling in to the armchair to read the paper, his doorbell rang. The front door. He got up using the cane and thumped to the front door. The glass in the door distorted the shape on the stoop. He turned on the light in the entryway and swung the door open. He stared at the man on the step thinking he should definitely know who this was.

“David?”

He frowned, thinking he must be wrong. “Tom?”

His friend smiled, then came forward and wrapped him up in a huge hug.

David couldn’t believe how different Tom looked. He seemed bigger, more filled out.
Grown up,
he thought.
He’s not that kid anymore.

They hugged for a long time, but in this circumstance it was okay. He hadn’t seen his friend for eight years.

“Jesus Dave,” Tom backed up, slapping his stomach. “You’re getting fat.”

“I am not.” He rubbed his own stomach. Maybe he was. His clothes weren’t any tighter, but he knew for a fact he wasn’t as scrawny as he had been when he first got back to Canada.

“Come on in. You want a beer?”

“Just one. Sounds good.”

David clicked the light on in the kitchen, and his friend followed him through the doorway.

“You’ve been busy.”

“I just can’t believe I own a house.”

Tom opened a cupboard door and shut it, looking impressed. “Did you make these?”

“Yeah.” He popped the caps of two bottles from the fridge. “Boxes with doors.”

“We’re going to be living in those houses you guys are building out on the base.”

“Oh yeah, those are almost done. They’re nice, too.”

Tom nodded, following David in to the living room. He flipped on a floor lamp next to the sofa and they both settled down, sighing like old men. “How’s your leg?” Tom finally asked, pointedly not looking at him.

“It’s fine. I mean, obviously it’s not perfect. The muscle was torn, by the time I got the hospital it was healing up wrong. It doesn’t quite move like it should. But at least I didn’t bleed to death.”

“That’s good.”

“What about you? You RAF bastard.”

Tom laughed. “I never got hurt. We had to bail out once. That was scary. I don’t know how you guys stayed out there for so long. We were on the ground for two days and I was shitting my pants the whole time.”

“You guys were a bit more visible than us. There’s really not much of a difference.”

Tom leaned back in the arm chair, sighing. “I like this chair. It’s nice.”

“A friend gave that to me as a house-warming gift. Actually, he was my Lieutenant. I went through basic with him.”

“He lives here?”

“He got me my job.”

“Wow. I can’t even remember what any of my COs looked like. Just my flight crew.”

“Tell me about this wife of yours. I’m having trouble believing it.”

Tom smiled, and actually blushed. “Not much to report. We were stationed in London. I met her at a dance. She’s beautiful, Dave. I still can’t believe she even danced with me, never mind married me.”

“What’s she like? Does she work?”

“She was working at the base canteen, actually. I know, I know. It sounds like a stupid love song. She’s not working right now, she’s just excited that we’re getting a house. She’s at the hotel, she’s pretty jet-lagged.”

“What’s her family like?”

“Her parents are nice. Kind of well-off, they farm in England. It’s like the opposite of here: you have to be wealthy to own land. Here it’s the farmers starving and the rich people living in town. She’s got … well, had an older brother. But he’s … he’s dead now.”

“War?”

“In a way, yeah.” He shook his head. “Again, I don’t know how to deal with that situation. I’d never met the guy before but … he was fucked right up.”

“Really?”

“He got hurt, but it was the morphine they gave him that made him worse. He was addicted. Emily sent me to Paris to go get him. I mean, I didn’t know him and I really didn’t want to but she … she didn’t want to see him like he was. Once I found him I knew why. This place was … he was in an abandoned building. Living there with these people who just … stunk and looked like they were waiting to die. Fuck. I know people that were there when they found those concentration camps … I swore I was in one. There was this woman passed out next to him, on her stomach, completely naked. People are walking around … I had no idea what to do. I just looked at him, told him I was his sister’s husband, she wanted him to come with me to see his wife. He got up, put on his pants and followed me without question.”

“What happened?”

“We got him to his wife and he shot himself in the head the first night we were there.”

David sunk back in to the sofa. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his face. “That’s about as much as I want to say about that, actually.”

“Consider that topic closed. Sorry you had to see that.”

“Anyway … I shouldn’t stay too long. I just wanted to see you, say hi. Catch up.”

“Appreciate it. It’s good to see you.”

They just smiled at each other, and as corny as it sounded it was like their friendship hadn’t missed a stride. They had spent time doing drastically different things, and when they met up again all it meant was they had more stories to bullshit about. David felt like he’d exhaled after holding his breath for a really long time.

“Ummm … there’s one more thing,” Tom said as David showed him to the door once that beer was gone.

“Yeah?”

“This is weird. Don’t hate me. It’s Emily’s idea.”

“Is it, now.” David felt his stomach tighten up.

“Next weekend Emily wants to have you over for supper. We’ll be in the house by then, and she wants to meet you.”

Relief, again. “What’s the big deal? I’d be glad to meet her.”

“She wants … she wants to introduce you to her brother’s widow.”

David frowned. “Oh. I don’t know about that—”

“I told her that it was an awkward thing to ask, and I don’t think this woman is, quite frankly, the least bit interested. I mean, she’s got a kid, he’s been dead for all of two months. Sure she hadn’t seen him for years, but still … Emily wants her to make friends. She’s coming out later this week. She’ll be renting an apartment in town. You can still say no, I’ll tell Emily you’ve got plans.”

“Nah. I’ll come. I’m just not promising anything. Widows … those are a whole different topic that I do not think I am mature enough to handle. And a kid?” David shook his head. “Wasn’t her husband’s kid?”

“Nah. She doesn’t talk about where the kid came from.”

David scratched his head. “I’ll come because I would like to meet Emily. But I’m not promising anything else.” He had to reiterate. “I just want to meet Emily.”

“Good. Just don’t hit on her. And this woman … I mean, she’s pretty. And she had a kid but she’s not fat or anything. But like I said, it’s Emily’s idea not hers.”

David shook his head, slapping his friend’s shoulder. “That’s good to know, thanks. You’re kind of an asshole but thank you all the same.”

“Emily doesn’t want you to know, so look surprised.”

“I’m sure I will be.”

“Thanks. And … I’m sorry.”

After Tom left David unlocked the back door and went back to reading his paper, waiting for his next visitor. Just as he predicted, the back door opened at about 10:30. Her heels were loud on the kitchen floor, and she kicked them off as she got to the living room. He put his paper down and watched her walk towards him, unbuttoning her rose-coloured jacket. When it dropped to the floor she was only wearing lingerie underneath, everything layered so that the garters and stockings stayed on.

She was either the woman of his dreams or absolutely fucking crazy. But Evelyn didn’t demand much of him outside of her nocturnal visits. David had a growing suspicion that she was married. She only showed up at night on irregular days, only wanted to fuck, and then she was gone before he got up the next morning. When she straddled his lap, putting his hands on her breasts while pressing her lips to his, he stopped wondering anything. It worked just fine for him.

That night she took him right there on the sofa, opening his pants, sliding to the floor on her knees to take him in her mouth. Before he finished she was back on his lap, forcing him inside and riding him wildly and very, very loudly. All he could do was hold on to her hips and close his eyes.

The orgasm was spectacular, shooting off stars behind his eyelids as he felt his hands dig in to her roughly and he barked out a noise that likely let her know he was done. She settled on his lap, keeping him inside, continuing to kiss him, her mouth stroking at his so that he could taste the red wine she’d been drinking. Neither of them had said a word the entire time. This was their exchange of goods and services, no questions asked.

She kept kissing him, and after a few minutes he felt himself hardening again. She gave a throaty laugh, grinding her hips downward, easing a growl out of his throat.

“Take me,” she whispered against his lips. “Throw me down and just take me.”

She moved her hips a couple more times, and he sat up, going to his knees on the floor. It hurt his leg but he really didn’t care. He eased her back to the ground and did exactly as told, up on his arms, hips thrusting against her madly. She cried out, her orgasm tensing her entire body: her legs, arms, back, even the part holding him inside. He came at the exact same moment. He was slick with sweat, breathing like he’d been running for his life. She was his only form of exercise, apparently. He disengaged from her, sitting up and doing his pants back up. She wordlessly got to her feet, pulled on the slip of satin that was between her legs before, and put her coat back on. He was sitting against his sofa, trying to catch his breath.

Evelyn crouched next to him, kissed his cheek, murmuring “Thanks lover,” before standing back up and leaving out the back door again.

“Holy shit,” he said to the empty room. “I’m being used.”

Chapter Forty-Six

Abigail

The apartment was nice enough, but it was smaller than the main floor of the house where she’d spent her last eight years. It was newer, modern, and very clean, which were all refreshing attributes. The second bedroom was very small, but maybe once she found work she could afford something bigger for her and Archie. For now this would do just fine.

Emily helped her find second-hand furniture to furnish the flat. A small table and chairs were easy, they had to hunt for a sofa and tables for the sitting room. The bed she had to have new. After that the money she’d gotten for her parent’s house and land was getting low. She’d need to find money before worrying about moving again.

She had no idea why Emily was so gung-ho to keep her close. Once James had died they had no ties at all. It almost seemed that Emily was so pissed off about her brother killing himself she made it her mission to right that wrong. Abigail didn’t know what words to use to tell her that it was unnecessary; she had thought James was dead years ago. And she’d been proven right.

She had been anxious to leave France, though. Five people dying in the same house seemed like a bad omen, and she had to get her child out of there. It had been a fast changing of the mind but it had stuck. When Emily’s husband got the job in Canada and said she should come along and apply for her citizenship, she had no arguments against it. The thought of Canada brought back worries about Elliot Murphy, but Canada was a huge country. She could likely live out the rest of her years there and never see him again.

It was unlikely she would even decide to stay very long. Abigail would like to return to England at some point, but having Emily as a friend was nice. She didn’t want to go back to being lonely. She knew all too well that lonely hurt more once you’d been free of it.

The first night in her new flat had been worrisome. Archie had fussed when she put him to bed, but he was so tired by the stress of the move and a new place he eventually passed out like only small children can. She was not exhausted in the same way. She couldn’t get used to having people so close around her. She could hear the toilet flush in the next room, people walking by her door in the hallway. She sat in the sitting room, tapping her foot on the floor and thrumming her fingers on the arm of the sofa. She didn’t even have tea to make herself a decent cuppa.

This town, on its way to becoming a city from all she had seen, had a very different energy than what she was used to. Everything was as positive and upbeat as it had been in London during her stop-over; the momentum was palpable. People were making things happen. When they drove in to town from the train station there were more buildings being built than there were finished ones. It was contagious. She felt that anything could be possible here.

Until she was still sitting, awake and wired, on the sofa at three in the morning, that is. Now she had time and silence to wonder what the hell she’d been thinking.

Eventually the anxiety of a new place eased up. By the third night she was sleeping like a baby. She learned where the nearest corner store was, she was getting a handle on the bus routes. She was even making friends.

Her neighbours were nice people, slightly younger than her parents had been. They were delighted to see Archie out in the hallway one day as she was bringing him home from getting groceries. They didn’t have grandkids, they explained the very first time they met her. Their only son had died in Normandy. They seemed to think that was a better option than leaving behind a baby and a widow, so they were incredibly sympathetic to her, offering to look after Archie if she ever needed the help. It was forward of them, but at the same time, she trusted them almost immediately. And Archie, of course, loved them on sight.

There was a single man living on the other side of her, he worked shift work at the saw mill. She apologized in advance if Archie should ever keep him up the day after he’d worked a night shift. He’d been polite; assuring her he could sleep through anything. He’d been in an artillery unit and he was guessing between that and the mill where he worked he’d be deaf in about ten years. A kid would have a hell of a time waking him up.

Now she had plans to attend a dinner at Emily and Tom’s new house, and she was actually looking forward to it. Everything was starting to feel wonderfully normal. As she was putting a basket of home-made rolls together to bring with her, the wife from next door, Grace, arrived to sit with Archie. Her phone rang, and she had just enough time to let the woman in before she was off racing to answer it. Emily sounded free and easy, but when she said, “I have just one thing to tell you,” Abigail felt her stomach drop.

“What?” Emily sounded too happy. This was likely going to be bad … for her.

“I have a ride coming to pick you up. Don’t get mad, but he’s a friend of Tom’s and he’s single.”

Abigail was speechless. “Emily, I-I … I can’t even -”

“Shhh, don’t argue with me right away. He’s been Tom’s friend forever, and Tom says he’s a good guy. I’ve met him a couple times now and he’s really, really handsome, Abby.”

“Don’t do this, Emily.”

“I’m not doing anything! We both want our closest friends here for our housewarming. He just bought a car and he was happy to have an errand to run with it. You’re apartment 302, right?”

“Emily -”

“I know it’s odd that I’m the one setting this up. But you’d been alone for long before you found out about James. Well, except for … you know.” Emily rushed on. “Sometimes it’s just nice to have a friend, Abby.”

“I can guarantee nothing is going to happen.”

“I don’t need anything to happen. I just want to see someone make you smile again, Abby.”

“Archie makes me smile.”

“You can’t sleep with him, though.”

“Jesus Emily -”

“You know what I mean. Dave will be there to get you at 6:30. Be nice. It’s my fault, not his.”

“I’ll see you then.” Abigail was furious when she hung up the phone, and not just because Emily had done something so embarrassing. She was also mad that now she felt the need to put on make-up and earrings.

Feeling completely ridiculous, she did just that. Like Emily said, it wasn’t this poor guy’s fault that this was happening. The least she could do was not look like the housekeeper.

She was giving Grace last-minute instructions for Archie when there was a knock on the door. He’d been bathed, and he could play with his blocks until eight, she was explaining. But then it was a glass of milk and bedtime no matter how much he squawked.

When she opened the door she didn’t even have the chance to be nervous. Grace was asking her if he had any medicines to take and as the door came open, Abigail only had time to stare at the man in her doorway in complete and utter confusion.

This wasn’t France. She wasn’t in her parent’s farmhouse. Why the hell was David Cleary at her door?

He looked as stunned and confused as she probably did. They just started at each other, completely silent. Grace must have realized something was off, because she was repeating “Abigail? Abigail, is everything all right, dear?”

He looked very much like he had the last time she’d seen him. His hair was cut a bit shorter, his face looked rounder, his shoulders seemed more fleshed out and substantial. He still had lines on his face, and he still had that charm to his eyes and mouth she remembered.

But what the bloody hell was doing at her door?

“David?” She said, testing her voice just as he said her name back. He gave a dry laugh, then just kept staring.

“How is this possible?” He asked, wondering out loud. She knew he didn’t expect an answer to that.

Something wrapped arms around her leg, and she looked down to see Archie staring up at David with his shy-but-curious face. He was always curious about men, not surprisingly.

Her heart stopped. Just as reality clicked in to place she looked back to David, her heart speeding up and panic starting to rise. David’s thought process moved right in sync with hers. He looked from her to Archie, his eyes getting wide.

“David …” She had nowhere else to go with that. Maybe Elliot didn’t live here. If she remembered correctly, they weren’t from the same home town. Maybe this is where David grew up and Elliot was somewhere far, far away. Or maybe he hadn’t even made it home. That was a terrible thought …

“Abby … that’s … is he … holy shit. I mean, shoot. I mean … oh my God.” He was staring at Archie in almost horror. Abigail picked her son up as he started to squirm.

“Is everything all right?”

She turned back to Grace, handing Archie over without worry. “We’re fine. Everything’s great. Emily’s number is by the phone. Call if you need anything.”

Before the woman could ask again she handed Archie over to her, picked up the rolls from the sofa table, pulled the door closed and rushed David down the hall. Once they were a few doors away she stopped him, faced him, and put her hand up. “Please … don’t tell anyone.”

He looked at her like she’d suddenly started speaking Swahili. “Don’t tell anyone? That’s Murphy’s son or I’m the King of England.”

“Yes, he is. But … you know why David. I don’t expect any help from anyone because of one mistake made years ago on what may as well have been another planet.”

David rubbed his forehead. “Holy shit. Oh my God, this is …” he stopped shaking his head and stared at her. Then his face went from worried to something else she couldn’t read. “Abby. I can’t believe … I can’t believe you’re really here.”

She gave a weak smile as he hugged her, and because of her shock she hugged him back. The very feel and smell of him took her back nearly three years. Her chest was tight, and she knew she was three seconds from crying.

David rubbed her back, not letting go even when she let out a sob. She bunched up his shirt in her fist, and he let her cry. He was murmuring soft things to her to settle her down. Between the nostalgia of two days she’d never forget and the fact that he was holding her so tightly, she eventually calmed. When she was just sniffling he pulled back and pushed her hair back from her face. “God Abigail. You look fantastic.”

She sniffed again, laughing. “I bet.”

He wiped a tear from her cheek. “You do. You’re beautiful.”

“You are sweet.”

“Not really. I’m so excited at the thought of taking you out on a date.” She laughed and he gave her another brief squeeze before getting down to it. “Murphy has to know.”

She shook her head. “Please, he can’t.”

“Abigail, this is his hometown. He lives here. His father-in-law just made him heir to run his construction company when he retires in a year.”

She felt the panic flow back. “I’ll leave. I’ll go back to England.”

He tilted his head like she was behaving irrationally. “Abby … he should know about his son. I mean … oh shit.”

Now he turned and walked away from her, hands in his hair. That didn’t help her calm down. “What? What is it?”

He turned back, grimacing. “His wife’s pregnant.”

She leaned against the wall. “They’re still together.”

“Yeah.”

“Does she … know about me?”

David shook his head. “I have no idea. Knowing Murphy, she likely does know. He wouldn’t keep secrets from her.”

Her stomach felt very uneasy. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want him to know. I don’t want to … wreck anything for them.”

“He has a right to know.”

“So he can do the right thing?” He had no response from her, and she adjusted her voice to be a little less hysterical. “There’s no honourable way to deal with this. He can’t marry me and make this right.”

“Listen, we’re both in shock right now. Let’s go for supper, they’ll be expecting us. Once this wears off … we’ll talk. I won’t say anything yet. But he has to know, Abby.”

Why did David have to turn out to be so rational and correct? “Fine,” she agreed. “We’ll discuss this after. But don’t tell Emily or Tom anything.”

“They’re going to realize we already know each other.”

“We don’t have to tell them everything. Do they know Elliot?”

David shook his head. “No, they haven’t met.”

“That should give me some time.”

He took her hand and gave her a rueful smile. “It really is good to see you, though.” The tone of his voice made her heart flutter, ever so slightly. It was nice to have someone admire you, even if it was one-sided. She studied his handsome face, allowing herself to slip ever so slightly back to that place where she’d woken up holding him after he and Elliot had shown up in her house. He had been so startled, polite, and befuddled all at once. He had been warm and comforting as well, even though she had been holding him. She felt affection for David, but she had felt an intense attraction to Elliot. Would that still be the case if she were to see him now?

“It’s … it’s good to see you too, David.” He hugged her again, and she had to allow a small smile. Being held was such a lovely and … forgotten sensation .

She patted his shoulder. “Let’s go. I’m … I’m better now.”

He nodded and offered her his arm. He also took the rolls from her, and they left the apartment building side by side. She noted he had a slight limp still, but he was walking without a cane.