Monday 31 May 2010

Chapter Eighteen

(Only a short one...)

Jon lit a cigarette and sat back in the reclining chair. Over the past few weeks he had become a night owl again, as he’d been in the early eighties when he’d been trying to get noticed and had been using the studio in the wee small hours of the morning. He breathed the acrid smoke out and sighed. He was waiting for a call from Obie. Obie had called that morning but as Abby had been around Jon couldn’t really talk and so he was sat smoking at 2am on Christmas Eve. Abby had already gone up to bed at about 1am and he’d spend the past hour reflecting over what she had asked him a couple of days back; about who she was. From the tone of Obie’s voice Jon just knew he was about to find out.

Jon’s blackberry rang softly and he tapped it.
“’lo?”

“Jon, it’s Obie, can you talk now?” Obie sounded a little pissed off.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Jon chose to ignore the sarcasm in the older man’s voice, for once.

“I got some info on Abby and it’s, well, it’s not good.”

Jon went silent. After all his pushing Obie for information, now he was about to hear it he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Go on.” He said, steeling himself for the worst. He just knew she was married and that he was going to lose her.

“I managed to trace what happened to her after she ‘disappeared’ without a trace. She went to live with her paternal uncle and aunt and changed her name.”

Obie paused. “Listen Jon, I’m not sure delving into this girls past is really gonna help you know? “

Jon sat up straight. “Obie…”

“Jon I’m telling you, it ain’t gonna make a damn bit of difference whether you know her past or not.”

“Obie if you don’t tell me right now, I’m going to ram this phone so far up your ass you’ll be able to make internal calls.”

“Ok, but I know how you feel about her, Richie told on you, and I don’t want this to change that, ok?”

“Ok, jeez what the hell could make me change the way I feel about her? What? Did she kill someone?” Jon blew out angry air, his cigarette smouldering away to nothing in the big crystal ashtray by his side.

“Not exactly…” Obie began

“For fuck’s sake Ob, spill it..now!”

“She and her family were attacked on Christmas Eve 1986. Her father was stabbed, her mother was raped and stabbed and Abby was left for dead. I’ve got a newspaper cutting giving the details if you want to read it but I wouldn’t if I were you. It’s pretty gruesome. They were found on Christmas morning by the aunt and uncle who had turned up to spend the day. Abby was in hospital for over 2 months, broken bones, abrasions…”

Jon looked at the wall in front of him, not seeing anything but Abby’s face, smiling at him.

“Was she…?’ he couldn’t even bring himself to say it as a pure white anger spread through his body. He wanted to find this son of a bitch and rip him in pieces.

The hesitation in Obie’s voice told him all he needed to know.

“What happened…after?”

“She went to live with her aunt and uncle and they changed their last name. That’s as much as I’ve been able to find out so far. All the records are sealed and as yet I haven’t been able to access them.”

Jon thanked Obie and set the phone down on the small table next to him. He felt sick. He kept seeing Abby’s face in his minds eye, drawn back in fear and terror and he wanted to kill.

Silently he made his way out of the room and up to his bed. He slipped in beside Abby and wrapped his strong arms around her, hoping her hair would hide the tears that fell. He felt her pain and fragility and wept quietly for what had happened to her.

Abby shifted in her sleep as she felt Jon wrap his arms around her. She snuggled back into him and fell back into a deep, warm sleep, feeling safe and secure.

Friday 14 May 2010

Chapter Seventeen

Thwack! The cue ball spun away from the end of the cue. Jon didn’t care whether it hit the target or not. What a fucking awful day. Dot and the boys had only stayed for a couple of hours before leaving with a hastily made up excuse. Even so she’d still managed to make him feel about yay small. Abby had done her best to keep the conversation light and bright and, well, flowing but even she’d had to admit defeat under the barrage of monosyllabic responses. The only bright part of the day had been spending time with his sons, even though Jesse hadn’t left his mum’s side the entire time. He hated the way she made him feel and she didn’t even have to say a word in order to do so. Just a look, an accusation made silently by eyes he was so familiar with and yet didn’t really know.

At least his mum seemed to like Abby. She’d pulled him aside as Abby had gone to the bathroom and had smiled and kissed his cheek. This was the closest she ever got to congratulating him. Even after all this time and every thing he’d achieved he couldn’t remember the last time he’d received a ‘well done son, I’m proud of you’ from her. It wasn’t fair. Tony and Matt had always been hugged and petted but not him; never him.

Mind elsewhere he took another shot, the colours blurring as a film of tears filled his eyes. Angrily he blinked them away. Now was not the time to get upset over a perceived familial slight.

He sighed and surveyed the table, its brightly coloured balls seemed to be mocking him in their garish frivolity. He slammed the cue down onto the green baize and rested, bent over the table, gripping the wood so hard veins stood out on his forearms. His head bent low as he stared unseeing. It wasn’t even a year since…since the accident…since his world had been shattered and turned upside down…

‘Fuck it, it wasn’t my fault. There was no way I could’ve stopped in time, all the cops said so.’ He muttered as he stepped back to line up his next shot.

Abby was in a strange mood. The drive back had been horrendous. Jon had pouted in silence all the way home. She’d tried to talk to him but after the first hour she’d stopped and had turned to watch the scenery flash by. It had been a long and uncomfortable drive back from New Jersey. Jon had walked into the house, dumped his coat on the sofa and headed off at such a speed she hadn’t been able to see which room he’d headed for. She’d heard a door slam and had decided not to follow. Instead she had taken the opportunity to go through all of the memorabilia that Jon had collected over the years. She tried to lose herself in the old memories that Jon had built up but couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in some way to blame for his mood. There was a thought that had been swimming round her head for a while, really ever since Jon had brought her to his house. Abby smiled wryly. She thought of it as home but it wasn’t really, was it? It was Jon’s home and she was just a guest, albeit a guest who was sleeping with the owner. Somewhere out there was her home, with all her belongings and a sense of who she was and she was just treading water here. The thought just wouldn’t go away. It was in this pensive mood that Jon found her, blindly staring at the tv screen blaring away.

“Hey babe, watcha doin?” he asked as he breezed into the den. A younger, fitter version of himself was running about on stage and he grimaced as he caught sight of himself.

“Abs?”

He muttered to himself as he looked for the remote to turn off the TV. ‘How the hell can you hear me with this playing loudly?’

He picked up the big remote control and clicked the TV off.

Abby came out of her reverie as the absence of noise filtered through to her. She turned to the man standing beside her.

“Jon!” she exclaimed, “Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Apparently so.” He drawled

“Sorry?” she asked, not getting it.

“The music? It was so loud, no wonder you couldn’t hear me. I called you a few times but go no reply. This den is sound proofed so I couldn’t hear you had the TV on until I came in.”

“Sorry I didn’t think you’d mind loud music.”

“It’s ok babe,” he sighed, “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Abby reached up for his hand, marvelling at the warmth of his flesh.

“Come and sit down Jon, I need to talk to you, and thank you. You really were in a shitty mood and it’s good to know it’s not me. I was worried for a bit that it was, that you didn’t want to take care of me anymore.”

“Oh hey hon, it wasn’t that, it would never be that. I like having you here…love having you here.” He said softly as he sat down next to her, not letting go of her hand.

“So…” he began, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Who am I Jon?”

Jon felt the smile slip away and his stomach began to churn.

“Erm, you’re Abby.” He stated baldly.

“I know that, silly, I mean who is Abby? What does she like? What does she do for a living, where does she live for that matter? I have no idea who I am and I think it’s time I started to…” she faltered as Jon’s face fell.

“What?” she asked softly, “what’s wrong? Don’t you want to help me find out who I am? I mean I’m not even the same person you met.”

“I’ve already said I didn’t know you that well before, and I like who you are just fine.” He replied, a hint of stubbornness in his tone. He broke away from her and stood up.

“Like?” she whispered, staring down at the floor, not wanting, not able to look into his face just in case.

Jon crouched down until his face was next to hers.

“Abby?” he said, tenderly, “Abby, look at me…please?”

Abby looked into his eyes, expecting to see pity and saw something else entirely.

“I love you.” He whispered as he brought his lips down on hers.