Page 37 of What's the time, Mr. Wolfe
I cried that night, really sobbed. I let out all the pent up upset and sadness I’d been holding in for years. I buried my face in my pillow to quell the noise. No one knew what I’d done.
Killing my mother was something I’d take to my grave.
Chapter Eight
We had a new person come to look after Grandma the following morning and I started to worry about the number of new faces. I called Tim.
“I’m super grateful, and all, but I wonder if we can keep to the same people? Grandma was a bit upset this morning because she’s not doing too well with all the changes.”
“Of course. We do need to sit down and go through your exact requirements. We haven’t done that yet. How about I pop along later today?”
We agreed on a time, and I set about to clean the house. I had a sense of needing to make up for the time I spent enjoying myself the previous day.
I thought about Sebastian as I worked. More so about our sex. My body ached for him, and I knew itwould take all my resolve to keep my distance. I hoped I wouldn’t have to work on the club interior. That way, I could avoid him and Amelia. I wasn’t sure, having seen her naked, I could face her again. I had three days to get myself together.
Once the kitchen was spotless, the living room clean and Grandma’s bedding all in the wash, I set about cleaning upstairs. I was a clean freak and I think that started as the only way of controlling my environment. My parents, before settling in a house, would camp on beaches, in fields, and communes. I had no control of where I was, or where I’d even wake up the following morning. I scrubbed the bathroom until the skin around my fingernails cracked and bled. I bleached everywhere so much that my eyes watered. When I was done, I tackled the bedrooms. Although the mould had been treated in Grandma’s old bedroom, it was yet to be redecorated. I decided to rip up the old carpet and dispose of all the furniture. It wasn’t needed anymore.
I called a charity and arranged for them to come and inspect and then collect the furniture. It wasn’t antique, but still in good condition. Most of it had come from the charity in the first place. I shifted what I could, cut up the carpet into manageable pieces and hauled them downstairs.
Sweat coated my neck and I grabbed my hair to hold it on top of my head. I wanted some cool air to wickaway the moisture. When I heard a car drive slowly past, I turned. It was his car. I sighed.
The car stopped, but it wasn’t Sebastian who climbed out, it was the driver.
“I shouldn’t be here, but I wanted to tell you that Seb is like a bear with a sore head today,” he said.
I frowned at two things. First, why he was telling me this, and second, at the shortening of his name. Sebastian had told me all hisstaffcalled him by his surname only.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said, not really knowing what to say.
“Save my skin and call him?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean?”
He smiled. “He’s a miserable fucker when you’re not around, or he’s not around you.”
“I’ve met him a handful of times. I can’t imagine I’ve affected him that much,” I replied, chuckling at the absurdity of that.
“Ruby, you know that isn’t true. As I said, I shouldn’t be here. He’d go fucking mad if he found out.”
“I’m confused. I haven’t seen him every single day since he... you… tried to drown me. What’s different?”
“What’s different is that he doesn’t think he’s going to see you again.”
“He told you that?” I asked.
“Yes. I don’t just drive him around, we’re family, just not blood.”
He climbed back in the car and left, leaving me even more confused than when he’d first arrived. I didn’t even know his name.
However, a small smile crept over my lips. So, he was missing me, was he? We’d only seen each other the previous evening. I swallowed that smile back down. It wasn’t my fault he was moody, and I believed I had been right to put a stop to whatever it was happening before it got started.
Sadness washed over me, though. I was always meant to be alone. I knew that. I just wanted to get on with my life with as few complications as possible.
By the time I’d finished cleaning upstairs and had the second load of washing in, it was time for Grandma’s lunch. I heated some soup and buttered some bread, then took it in on a tray. I offered the carer some, but she’d brought her own, she’d told me. I also reminded her she could make herself a drink whenever she wanted. She followed me back to the kitchen.
“Your grandmother is lovely. She’s been telling me all about Spain,” she said.
“You understand her?” I asked.
