Page 40 of After the Rain
If she’s out on that quad bike and in some kind of emotional state, there is only one place she has gone. I turn around and jog around the back of the barn and pick up the pace, running across two fields into the small woodland that lines the western boundary of the farm. I pick my way across the small stream and dodge exposed tree roots, all the while absolutely wrecking my boots in this winter mud. Honestly, I’m going to set a new rule that emotional breakdowns can only happen when it’s not. Fucking. Muddy.
After about ten minutes in the woodland, I enter the small clearing where a huge old oak tree stands proudly in the middle, a slightly dilapidated treehouse woven between its branches, with telltale smoke rising from the chimney in the corner. Dad built this for us when we were kids, and we spent so much time out here. Wren has always loved this place. It’s where she used to escape to when she was a sullenteenager who needed to get out from under the, apparently oppressive, overprotectiveness of her four older brothers and her interfering, yet well-meaning mother.
I climb up the ladder, thanking my lucky stars that the rotten, old wooden one got replaced a couple of years ago by a metal one. As soon as my head pops through the gap in the floor, I see Wren wrapped up in a blanket in the corner next to the woodstove, which is the only thing in this freezing landscape keeping her warm.
She looks up at my entrance, and when she doesn’t immediately swear at me for searching her out, I feel relief. Maybe she’s OK and just needed some space? But then, she makes eye contact with me, and promptly bursts into tears. Well, fuck.
Twenty-Nine
Rain
Corey and I finish up our American-style pancake stacks – his with berries and crème fraiche and mine with some delicious cinnamon apple concoction that was, quite simply, the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I think it may even be better than Aidan’s cock, and that’s saying something. I go over to Poppy, who’s busy behind the counter making coffee for some of the other customers and take my wallet out.
“Your money’s no good here, sweetness. Aidan’s ‘granola’ is in that bag over there.” She indicates with a sideways nod of her head a paper bag sitting on the end of the counter. The sarcasm around the word granola makes me curious, and I peek inside the bag.
“Pops, there’s just almond croissants in here.”
“Exactly. That man has never eaten granolaa day in his life. Take the croissants. Tell Wren to let me know she’s OK.”
“Will do, hun. Thanks for breakfast.”
“Yes, thank you, Poppy. It was amazing,” Corey says with a shy smile, Pax at his feet as always.
“Anytime,” Poppy calls as we exit the warm café. The cold air hits me in the face, and I shiver, wrapping my/Aidan’s coat closer around me.
“Fuck, it’s fucking freezing in the sticks!” Corey’s teeth are chattering, and I’m proud to be the one who has acclimatised at least a little bit since moving out of the city. It’s just another thing that makes me feel even more at home here.
“Let’s go home and get the log-burner going, get warm and watch something?” Corey nods at me in agreement.
“Sounds amazing. What shall we watch?”
“How about…”
“…hmmm.” We both think about it before we say at the same time, “Friends?” We laugh and start the walk back home.
We take our time so Pax can enjoy a decent walk, and we detour via the park in the village and around the public footpath that loops the village as well. By the time we are heading up the driveway to the house, we’re both red-faced andcold to the bone.
“I’m going to have a quick shower to warm up. Do you want one too?” I ask.
“I’m good. I’ll get the fire going, that’ll soon warm me up.”
We make our way inside, shaking the worst of the mud off our boots before leaving them on the porch. Aidan had dug out a pair of Wren’s old wellies for Corey, and he had bought me a gorgeous pair of brown leather walking boots for Christmas.
I leave Corey to the task of rubbing Pax down with a towel to dry him off while I make my way upstairs for a shower. Under the warm spray, surrounded by the rich amber and oud scent of Aidan’s shower gel, I feel a smile take over my face, and a feeling unlike anything I’ve felt before fills me to my core. Contentment. I feel genuinely, truly content, and I smile knowing that everything is looking bright for the future. My future with Aidan.
Famous. Last. Words.
After my shower, I dress in a pair of black dance leggings, because they are, in fact, the most comfortable thing you could ever wish to wear, a huge T-shirt of Aidan’s, and his green hoodie – my favourite – that he was wearing last night. I pullon some of the thermal socks that Aidan got me for Christmas and make my way back downstairs to launch into the epic comedy adventure that is aFriendsrewatch.
“Cor, do you want a cuppa?” I call as I reach the bottom of the stairs, only to almost swallow my tongue when I round the corner into the living room to find Corey isn’t alone. He’s sitting on the sofa, his face ashen and pale, with tears tracking down his cheeks. Sitting beside him, obnoxiously close, is Dom. And he’s holding Pax’s collar tightly in one hand, and a fucking knife to the poor dog’s throat in the other. Pax looks dopey and wobbly, no doubt a result of whatever sedative was in the fucking empty syringe on the coffee table.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to do. And fuck, I really hope they didn’t overdose Pax. Shit!
Amid my panic about poor Pax, I don’t break eye contact with Corey. He’s almost catatonic, pleading with his eyesfor meto get him out of this mess. I don’t know what to do, but I try with everything in me to focus on some kind of plan. But then I feel it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I can smell him. The sour sweat smell he used to get when the drugs he had binged on the night before were making their way out of his system through his pores. It’s like thesmell of a dead body, I imagine. Once you smell it, it never quite leaves your nose.
Before I can turn around and face Dan, I feel his hot, wet tongue tracing a path up my neck. I bite my tongue and swallow the bile that tries to escape me. I know I can’t react, or Dom will hurt Pax. Or Corey. And so, I stand there and take it. Just like I always used to. Only this time? This time it won’t break me down into pieces. This time, it’s a means to an end. Because there is no fucking way that I am giving up this life for this absolute cunt. I don’t care how long it takes; I will get away and I will get back to Aidan. Because I have absolutely no doubt that Corey and I will both be going back to London in the next few minutes. But I’d rather die trying to get away than give up all this just to stay alive under his thumb.
It’s in that moment that I know what loving Aidan and being lovedbyAidan has given me. It’s not the material things – a place to live, a job, clothes, food. It’s the intangible things – a home, a family, safety, love. But most of all? He gave me strength. A deep, abounding, bone-deep strength. A strength that will be the thing that gets me out of whatever situation I’m about to find myself in, and back in his arms once more.
