| Call Me Daddy
© Xeen PART 17 “I have no idea if the new me loves you…” She cuddled up in his arms and he cradled her gently. “… yet.” “I understand,” he whispered in her hair, “but you still want me huh?” She pushed him away and gave him an outraged glance. He changed his strategy immediately. “There’s no need to hurry, we’ll take it slow, see where it leads us. No strings attached. Listen, I never said anything about throwing an engagement party and advertising it in The Guardian,” he joked. It produced a faint smile on her face. He could feel he was winning her back and pushed his advantage. “On the other hand, I’m a public figure and we don’t want The Sun to mess with our lives. However you must agree that we’ve been seen together about everywhere in London and in the rest of the country until today. You think we should proceed with caution, right? As far as the rest of the world or our colleagues are concerned, nothing has changed. Well technically it changed, but no one needs to know… apart from Jack, am I right? We just keep doing what we used to. Let’s hang out like we always did.” “We used to hang out?” she laughed. “Sir really?” “For Christ’s sake, you know what I mean!” “Yes, I do. I can see that I’m overreacting. But the last thing I want is the whole department to think that…” “They won’t. Why would they? Nobody would honestly believe it took me so long to get into your pants,” he said very seriously. She punched him and he smiled. “Honestly, it’s not your type to sleep your way up, everybody knows that already. Is it your memory loss or don’t you remember that you were considered a lost cause as much as I was?” “Ok.” “Ok? Ok what for? Could you be any more specific?” “I’ll give it a try.” “Let me ask you something then. Forget about what the others might think. I’m crazy about you Barbara, can’t you see that?” “Please, I just... it's-- can we talk about this later? It makes me uncomfortable.” “Sorry, I did not mean to; but please don’t push me away; at least give me the same chance you give Jack: let me be another shoulder you can cry on. If you trust me to be your friend, there’s nothing you cannot tell me, you must believe that at least.” “You don’t understand!” she wriggled away from him in exasperation. “That’s exactly the problem Tommy. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.” “You won’t. That’s a promise.” “After six years of having you as a friend you choose to tell me now? What kind of friend are you?” “The kind you can rely on, no matter what. Now, would you stop being so overly dramatic?” “Don’t make fun of me. This is all new for me.” “That’s a tie then.” He kissed her and pushed a tangle of hair away from her eyes.” “At least you don’t see me as an embittered spinster,” she chuckled. “How can you be so sure?” he sounded relieved. “First of all, let’s do this properly. What do you want to do? I’ll tag along, if you will have me.” She hit him lightly in the chest and smiled. “Thank you.” “Would you ever stop thanking me?” “I’ll try.” -o- It took her like forever to select what to wear and all this new girlie time consuming thing was getting on her nerves. After they managed to call a cab, they were finally en route to his flat and their grand day out. “I don’t think so,” she wailed. “In my book, I owe you two tenners and two guineas. I can’t believe that we are arguing over sharing expenses.” “You’re not serious are you?” “I am sir. There is no way I will let you pay for my grocery.” “It is not YOUR grocery, it was our breakfast. Surely you do not expect me to pay you back for your hot water and hot sex, do you?” She looked at the cab driver’s nape and went beet red. “Sir,” she hushed him. “I’m pretty sure he can hear you…” “Free speech is not a crime.” “Please don’t!” “You have to agree on one thing. At least we learned that we are compatible,” he teased. The driver winked openly at him in the mirror. “You’re not paying for the exhibition and that’s final,” she said stubbornly. “You’re right, I’m not.” “Finally you’ve come to your senses.” “You know Havers, I’m a Tate patron. That means I have unrestricted access to all exhibitions with no extra booking fee. “I’m glad we could have this talk,” she rolled her eyes. He chuckled and kissed her. She let him pay for the cab without another protest and he escorted her to his flat. She barely remembered his old place and she had not been to his loft since they had been back from Cornwall. Leading her inside, a light hand on the small of her back, he rang at the door before letting them in. “Jack, I’m home!” he chanted. “Come on in. Denton is still in Cornwall, he won’t disturb us.” She shook her head. “There’s a note, Jack’s handwriting.” “Would you read it for me please? Aren’t you eager to discover all our dirty secrets?” She looked threateningly at him and read. Lynley disappeared upstairs. “He’s gone to the Met I guess,” she said in a loud voice so that he could hear her. “And I’m going to kill him with my bare hands,” she added softly for herself heading for the bedroom. “What’s on the note?” shouted Lynley from the bathroom. “Sorry, I had no idea you were so close,” he said with an apologetic smile when he ran into her in his underwear. “See for yourself,” she handed him the sheet and sat on the bed. Extending her leg, she watched her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing black leather slingbacks with a 2.5 inch heel. She never wore pointed toe shoes or heels and it was a totally new experience. Wearing a dress was new as well and she was glad she had opted for a classic. It was a bi-colour long sleeve dress with black jersey top and purple silky faille skirt with a large sequined belt she had bought in Camden. To give it a more casual look, she was sporting the oversized hammered coin necklace Haddiyah and her father had given her for her last birthday. She caught Lynley’s reflection behind her. He had changed into casual wear which means he was more ready to meet the Queen than she will ever be. He was trying to figure out the note. He had this deep crease on his forehead that she found so endearing and he looked puzzled. “I hate texting; I don’t understand the half of it. I must be older than I think,” he apologized. “I’m afraid I need your help. Why are you so good at that by the way?” She sprang from the bed and grasped the note. ”It’s easy. It’s the cheapest way to use your phone. Well…” Gotta run W CM. Btycl?? JK ;) If B killed U, 2 bad. If B did not kill U, yadda yadda. Either way, I WIN!! Gotta keep your keys ;) hand ttyl Jack “… what part do you not understand?” “I have to run. Winston… called me?” “So far, so good,” she nodded. “What could possibly btycl mean?” “This one is easy, that’s booty call, sir” she smirked. “Oh… - I see,” he said his face indecipherable, “JK?” “Just kidding.” “Just kidding… you find that funny? Well… If B – I have to assume it’s you, right? If Barbara killed you too bad… If Barbara did not kill you… either way I win… I can keep your keys,” he smiled, “then there’s a wink right? But what the hell is hand ttyl? I will hand it out to you or something like that, am I any close? It doesn’t make any sense!” “Have a nice day, I will talk to you later. See, it was not so hard.” “I can hardly be held responsible for HIS note, can I?” She took a pen from the bedside table and wrote at the bottom of the note – STFU. He shook his head in despair. “And this means?” “Shut the f… up. Now will you come already… -- your Lordship? Have you forgotten that you have to educate a poor working class girl and turn her into a lady? Maybe you should buy a wand and its magic spell handbook directly from eBay, it’d be easier.” “Barbara, educate you, not bloody likely!" “I beg your pardon?” “’Pygmalion’? George Bernard Shaw?” “Oh, we went to see it with my mum and dad when my brother was still with us.” She was silent for a moment. “Nope, you can’t be Higgins. He is such a jerk. I never understood how Eliza could put up with that prick. You’re more like a Colonel Pickering to me. You always treated me like a lady as far as I recall. Sorry,” she pondered, “that was weird wasn’t it?” He did not say anything but caressed her cheek gently instead. She shook her head and wiped her eyes, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “Come on yaaahr lordship I washed me ‘ands an’ face an’ I’m ready ter go.” -o- “God, I can’t believe it took us the whole day,” she said. “Art is exhausting.” “But you liked it, didn’t you?” “Yes. I have to admit it was fun,” she flashed him a smile and slouched all over the couch. “I can’t see why I never took that Tate boat before. I guess I must love the Tube,” she grinned, “the agitation, the crowd, being bullied around.” She tossed her pumps under the coffee table and cuddled on the sofa. “I’m afraid I had too much to eat,” she yawned, her hand on her stomach. “If I want to pay you back for dinner I’ll have to call my bank for a loan.” “Why don’t you relax and stop talking about money?” he said, slumping down on the other side of the couch and extending his legs before him. “Money is a big part of my life. It is when you happen to not have enough of it.” He sighed. “I’m sorry Barbie, I did not mean to upset you. I am being rude… again. You have a way of making me reflect on my ability at being a gentleman. Next time, you can decide on our program for the day and pay for the full extent of it if you like.” So there’s going to be a next time she thought -- after all she’d said and the way she’d staged her way out of their burgeoning relationship. She had to admit that in the end it was indeed turning into a nice experience. Not only she could enjoy the moment and be herself --since they didn’t have to start from scratch, but they were so comfortable around each other like an odd old couple that it was simply great to be with him. If it was a dream she will wake up eventually, no reason to anticipate the downfall. “You’re sure you’re up for a fish and chips and a day at the zoo?” she giggled. “Why not? I’m much more of an aquarium fan but we can save the aquarium for a third date if you want.” She gazed at him intently, tilting her head up, her eyes partly hidden behind her fringe. He stared back longingly with unwavering attention. “Barbara, I have no idea why I never told you before. You are beautiful,” he said perfectly still, his voice altered. He draped his arm on the back of the sofa but she was out of reach and his fingers waved helplessly at her. His mouth twisted slightly, he furrowed his brow, his eyebrows knitted in a questioning frown. “I want you too,” she sighed, stretching out to him. Their bodies met half way. -o- She fell back on the mattress, her damp hair glued to her forehead and sweat sticking the sheets to her body. He turned to her in the same motion, his arm imprisoning her breast, his lips on hers. With her womb pressed against his hip, she could feel the waves of her receding climax and she kissed him back. Her old boss had changed into a fantastic and unexpected lover over night. It was just plain frightening to discover this entirely new aspect of him. As he said candidly in the cab this very same morning -- one might as well say eons ago, they were compatible; to be more accurate, they were quite a match. She had no idea one can experience such pleasure with an old ‘friend’. Now she understood the ladies room gossip even if she doubted he’d slept with half the female population of Scotland Yard as rumour has it. Moreover, she was surprised at her own response to his touch. She felt powerful and in control not to mention it was simply divine to finally ‘have’ him all to herself. She smiled at her unintended double-entendre thought. The glimmer of the clock caught her eye and she realised it was almost three. She grinned to herself replaying his morning excuse in her head. Despite his age, his stamina seemed more than intact to her and merely showing no sign of lessening at all. Should they had ended up in her bed after breakfast, chances were they would have stayed there all day long. “Water,” she said in his ear and he nodded against her face panting. She put a light hand on his chest. His heart was fast and strong. “I can’t… your leg? Please?” He laughed softly and untangled from her with a moan of regret. “I think I will change the bed and have a shower.” She nodded absently and sat in the bed. “Don’t you hear something?” “No. What am I supposed to listen to?” “I don’t know it’s as if the telly… --probably someone next door…” He jumped out of bed, put on a luxurious striped pyjama bottom and disappeared downstairs. She heard the sound of muffled voices and laughters. She folded a sheet and tied it around her like she would of a pareo and cautiously followed in his steps down to the living room. The glass stair was cold under her feet and she shivered despite the temperature of the room. “… and then you should have seen Winnie. He was…” “Jack?” “Hi Barb! You look wonderful, nice outfit,” Buchanan said, placing his hands on her bare shoulders and a big smack on her cheek. She blushed and searched Lynley for back up. He was fixing some fancy cocktails oblivious of the situation and of the late hour. “Jack closed the case today so he went out to paint the town red with the boys,” he explained, his back on her. “Would you mind finding some elevator music from the shelf darling,” he asked casually. Jack flashed her a huge grin and got the thumbs up. “YES!” he mouthed. “Unless you don’t rule out that I play some Mahler or Tchaikovsky?” “I’ve got it under control Tommy,” said Buchanan. He picked a CD out from its box and said loudly. “Can’t you see that the girl is freezing to death? Give her something to drink for crying out loud or I will have to take care of her myself.” She sat on the sofa and waited for her personal hell to break loose. She was not Lynley. She could not face such an awkward situation. She had no idea of how to behave right now. She was playing in her head every conversation she had had with Buchanan about Lynley, her long-time infatuation for him and her increasing frustration. He had been somehow the architect of their affair and still it felt extremely painful to have him be a witness of his success in the middle of the night. The first notes of Debussy’s Suite bergamasque played and she relieved in the music wishing she had stayed in bed. When she woke up, it was almost day outside and she was alone still lying on the sofa. Someone had placed a soft mohair blanket upon her. She took her time to get up and went back silently to Lynley’s bedroom. She was not surprised to find him sprawled across the bed and fast asleep. She retrieved her clothes from the armchair and locked herself inside the bathroom cursing against her apparel. It would have been so simple to put back on her usual baggy clothes and sneakers. Why on earth would she want to be all dressed up at dawn on a Sunday morning? She managed to get ready in no time and sneaking out through the back door she soon found herself in the street. She turned off her phone and hurried up to the nearest station. -o- Her mother was really doing fine in her nursing home. The staff was kind and obviously cared about their patients and anyway her mum has always been easy to live with. There was no difference now that she was suffering from dementia. Her mind might be gone she was still nice and talkative. Havers was glad she had taken some time to change before going to see her. Not that her black dress did not suit her but she felt that she had to sport a more cheerful look when she was visiting. She had chosen a green and purple silk chiffon flower print blouse with half length sleeves and cropped black corduroy trousers with a thin leather belt along with a purple wool peacoat with a large collar and a green fluffy scarf. It was the first time she had ever tried to drive her car – any car that is, with a pair of middle heel shoes and it was a complete success. Her new ankle boots were simply perfect. She could not believe that she was actually in love with a pair of shoes. She was beginning to understand the importance of clothing. It was easier to be heard when you could impose on people and as a matter of fact, the way you look is often paramount. She had listened happily to her mum describing her latest cruise to the Aegean Islands during lunch. After her nap, they strolled in the gardens to the river and gave some crumbs to aquatic birds circling in the vicinity of the bank. After tea, she hugged her and left but her heart was full of conflicting feelings. Her mother barely knew who she was now and every time she spent the day with her, she had to go through the same terrible process of reminding her repeatedly. It was even more painful since her memories happened to be so unreliable lately. She knew that eventually, her mum’s mind will be gone for good in a place of her own. She should have talked to her about her affair with Lynley. This was her perfect opportunity to get it off her chest and she had missed it. She walked slowly back to her car, wishing she had never quit smoking and contemplating the state of her life. The last thirty six hours had been a ride on a roller coaster she had no control of. Maybe lust was making her lose perspective. For the time being, it was only a fling and some casual sex, not a true relationship. She was right to begin with; she should have let him go the morning before, instead of following him to his apartment and finding herself bound by something she was not ready to deal with. But will she ever, she thought. It was not too late to back away. It would be easy never to meet him again even if she decided to stay at the Met. She opened the car door and pushed some trash onto the floor. She sat her bag in the glove compartment and placed her hands on the wheel. She had to admit she had got carried away and now she was lost. She did not want this thing with Lynley to stop and she did not want it to continue either. She hated that she felt trapped. It was a lot easier to lust after him and blame everything from her background to the bad weather for her inability to seduce him. Now not only she knew that he fancied her but he had been far more straightforward about his feelings than she was capable of. That was a disorderly and confusing upheaval for her at an utterly disturbing time in her life. She could mull over the situation as long as she liked, he was definitely out of her league. She was a common girl and in a way he was more than right; she was going to become his Eliza Doolittle and that was something she would never be able to abide and she will eventually resent him for it. She did not fool herself. She could dress up all she wants, she’ll never look like a lady let alone be one. Even if this last day was a radical landmark in their relation, it did not mean that they could not go back to the way they were before. It will be hard to forget it ever happened but not impossible; they’ll find a way. She started the engine and left the car park. It was still early, she should avoid the heavy Sunday traffic. She turned on the radio and began to sing along to the Fray’s ‘Look after You’. She sped up and headed North back to Acton. -o- The minute she passed the corner of her street, she could spot his car parked under the street lamp. She pulled over next the Bristol and checked if he was still inside. The car was deserted which was news since he seemed to value it more that any other of his possessions. Fidgeting with her keys, she walked nervously to the hallway, bracing herself in anticipation against his possible outburst. His shadow pacing before her front door confirmed what she had been afraid of. Biting her lip, she hurried to meet him. “Where have you been?” “That would be good evening to you too sir. If you don’t mind…” She opened the door averting his eyes and invited him inside with a nod. She hang her coat, put her keys and bag on the counter, the kettle on, retrieved two mugs from the rack and finally turned back to face him. “I’ve been worried sick!” “Don’t do this. You don’t have to worry about me. You never did before and nothing changed in this department.” “You did not answer to your phone all day… and— I did worry about you before, you’re being unfair.” “I turned it off. Did it not give you a clue? I wanted some time to think over, to clear my head of all this mess.” “So it’s a mess to you? Is it why you fled from my apartment this morning, to think? At least, be honest with me Havers, you’ve always been, that’s what I like most about you.” “Don't be such a smug bastard Lynley,” she snapped back. “Listen, I haven’t slept in two days. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk, I don’t have to explain myself. If you’re not happy with that, you can leave right now. I never said I wanted to see you tonight.” “Is it how it’s going to be? I will have to wait for a phone call or a sign? What kind of a relationship is that?” She switched on the lights and thrust her bag under the coffee table. She sat down on the sofa and slammed the mugs on it spilling half of their content. “Spending a few hours in bed does not qualify as a relationship sir. I have things to do apart from roaming museums and hitting the sack with you,” she said titling her head up, her voice dangerously low. “There are these memory loss management sessions and go see the shrink and talk to Hillier.” “Not on a Sunday, there’s not.” “Today was not different. I had to go and see my mum today, it’s been a while since… and I-- I wanted to do this on my own, have some quality time with her. Surely you are not going to argue about that.” “Ok.” He sat on the armchair facing her, obviously putting the table between them on purpose. She took one of the mugs her hands warming on it and seemed to relax. “The fact is I did not want to stumble upon Jack in your kitchen this morning. It’s been an… ordeal to see him last night. I did not want to put my reaction to the test again.” “You don’t trust him to respect our… secret?” “Yes I do, it has nothing to do with that. I… I can’t –well I don’t know exactly. I can’t be with you when somebody I know is around. You do understand right?” “Well, actually I don’t but I can try.” “Oh god, you know exactly what I mean. You’re a man. For the rest of the world, you scored with me. And what does it make me at the end of the day?” “Havers, I don’t want to have this conversation ever again. You know my feelings. You’re not part of a game or a contest. And I don’t give a damn about what people might think or not think about us.” “Well, I do. You don’t have anything to lose. From my point of view, I have everything to lose can’t you see?” “Is it why you want to talk to Hillier? Is it about us?” “No, it’s not.” “Why don’t I believe you?” “Do as you damn please sir, I don’t care. I’m not sure I still want to be a detective and ever work at the Met again after what happened in Cornwall. When you lose you bearings, it gives you a different perception.” “That’s the letter I saw on your laptop isn’t it?” “You’ve been snooping in my stuff?” “Your laptop was on the table and…” “… and as much as I’d like to keep you all to myself, it’s getting late and you're going to have to go back to work tomorrow,” she said standing stiffly and walking to the door. He did not move. “What if I don't?” “That is not my concern.” “You’re throwing me out?” She did not respond and swung the door open. “Good night Tommy.” To be continued..... Part 18 |
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