Undone CH22

                  **Start of  UNDONE**

👢Neil's eyes opened to deep city-sounds; instantly reminding him where he was. Curled up close behind him, he felt Saskia's warmth on his back. It took a few moments for memories of the night before to form as he stared at his reflection in the dressing table mirror and shame didn't give any introspective stare back. Turning onto his other side to look at her, a twist of hair was rising then tickling her nose with each out breath. Gently, he slipped from the bed, hooking the wayward strand over her ear before heading for a shower. Glitter had passed onto him from Saskia, giving his chest hair festive sparkle, and he felt a bit sorrowful when water washed the sweet reminder off. Ablution could take care of glitter but was ineffective against unlawful acts - despite how glorious the sin.

As she lay soundly, Neil neatened the mess around him before making her coffee. He'd already been in his room to gather his things and done as much as possible here for her too. Sitting on the edge of the bed, cup in hand, he shook her by the shoulder to rouse her. 
    'Hey, you... rise and shine.'  

    Nothing.

    After another shake, she gave a peeved groan. 'What, already?'

    'Afraid so... '

    Before getting the chance to pass her anything, she gave a sudden-morning wriggle-stretch causing him to stand briskly to keep what little coffee there was inside such teeny cups. Pulling herself to a sitting position, he smiled and bent over her to kiss the top of her head and safely handed over her caffeine boost - accepting it with a coy smile.

    'Thanks. Have you been up long?' she asked, noticing he was already dressed.

    'Long enough... actually we've just got around twenty minutes to vacate our rooms.'

    'Really?' she replied, giving her nose a quick scrunch up. 'Awe, that's a shame... never mind.'

    Neil felt a little flurry rippling across his chest, sure that there was cheeky intent among the sound of her sigh. But given that they were time-limited, he went back into the kitchen area for one last Dolce Gusto, and to help control the pull of taking her once more under those sheets.

    'Hungover at all?' she queried as he made his way to the machine; able yet to see him from the open bedroom door.

    Sticking out his bottom lips, he shrugged. 'Nope.' And nothing else was said. No how are you, no did you sleep well, no boy, you look rough, back; he was functioning too quietly. She was used to his early morning classical radio, (annoying music to rile her groggy head up, before she has the chance to come to) to his rundown on how to make a perfect steadfast breakfast (while slagging off her choice of underage-cereal now adorning his cupboards), to him perusing the paper, adding loud coughs just as she begins to say anything (while pretending not to listen to her). 

   Sitting more upright, she noticed from bed that his bags were sitting right next to the exit door; his coat slung over it sparking unease. But she put doubt aside to remind herself that he always does the mega-organized thing, plus they were pushed for time. As long as he wasn't keen to get out of here and away from the memories of last night; didn't stop the wary churn in her stomach, though. But he was being unusually quiet, shuffling about shiftily, making no effort to converse, and this very pregnant pause (where she was deliberately keeping silent to see how long it would take him to initiate speech) only added concern to the detached demeanor. She knew by his slow, stilted pace alone that something big was on his mind. 

                                      Dear God, don't let it be regret. 

    He'd promised that wasn't going to happen, but she still fretted.

    'Ah, listen, Saski... I don't know how you're gonnae feel about this, but... ' 

                             Here it comes, here it comes, she told herself.

   '... I'd like to drive you straight home myself, and maybe pop in to wish your mum a Merry Christmas?'

   It took a few moments before she reacted, he'd caught her off guard. 'Wow!' she said wide-eyed, shocked by his words but relieved they weren't the one's she'd feared.  'Really?'

   'Aye.' he answered, bemused by the discombobulated expression on her face and tried to jape away any doubt she may have; 'I can remember she used to be a little bit thorny at times, but I'm presuming I'll still keep my head on.'

   Saskia smiled at this; it would be swift decapitation if her mother knew about them, and that gave her a sudden, undisclosed thrill. 'Are you sure about this, Dad?'

   'Been thinking about it for a while. I'd like to, Saskia, but only if you're okay with it yourself.'  Neil supposed it must be rather awkward for her to picture her parents under the same roof for niceties (despite being nowhere near as unseemly as picturing a father and daughter in the same bed). As she ummed and ahhed some more, he held his hands palms up to face her.  'Promise we won't become besties or anything, just a quick hello.' 

    So he was that brazen; willing to face a mother whose daughter he'd just violated? That gave her another quick buzz. 'Okay then.' She grinned at his promise. 'What harm could a few minutes bring, it is Christmas and all that bollocks, I suppose.'

    'Nice way of putting it, but good... although there is one more thing I hope she'll be okay with.'
    Saskia froze a little. 'Okay, what have you done?' she asked nervously, holding him in an accusatory stare. She knew him well enough now to know when his voice carried conscience, and that her mum's fly-off-the-handle moods were getting tougher these days.
    'I forwarded some money to the hospital dealing with your mum's breast cancer and asked them to distribute the money accordingly. Left an email saying that I was a friend of hers.'
    Colour drained instantly from Saskia's face and her shoulders sunk back into her pillows. This generous gesture seemed to bring about an opposite reaction to the one he was expecting.

    'Shit,' he grimaced, 'is that alright? She won't think that I'm interfering or anything?'

    'How much?'
    'Fifty grand.'
    'Fifty?' she whispered aghast. 'Jeez!' Her eyes flitted all over the room, as she appeared even more stunned.

    'Ah... I've gone overboard, haven't I? She doesn't have to know about it, I could mail them again and ask to be kept an anonymous donator?  Och, I should have talked it over with you first.'

    'Well, at least I know why you've been acting a bit odd this past wee while.'

    'I know, but as you say... it is Christmas and all that bollocks... '

    She clicked her tongue and shot him a look; at least the teasing had returned. ' Fifty grand though? I get giddy just saying it... '

    'Well, it's done now, kiddo. Look, my standpoint is that I'm a kind of distraction or break from what's happening at home for you, but I know it can't be easy at times and I just wanted to help somehow. Beverly still doesn't need to know if you think that'll be better?.'

   Saskia locked her thoughts into another short-stare as she considered her home life. If only she could tell him exactly what goes on regarding her mother. But she threw on a joyous smile (before she was tempted to tell all and spoil his Christmas) that made him feel better. 'I'm sure the money will help their various charities, I'm really touched you did that. You may have a bob or two, but you don't give yourself enough personal value. You're amazing, Dad, do you know that?' She looked close to tears, silly and sudden ones for a reason he could not, at the time, fathom but assumed may be pride.    

   'Steady on... ' he said, self-effacingly. He didn't want her to put him high on any pedestal, or make him sound unctuous. The amount was peanuts to him, and he threw a party once a year. So what?

  But she held him in a soul-piercing stare. 'And to think I wasn't even sure about you after Mum told me what went on with Grampa and your dad. It could have stopped us meeting at all.'

  Eyes cast downward, he didn't expect to hear that, but Neil noted that she didn't refer to his father in any respective grandparent mode. Having learned the history between the two, he didn't blame her. What she was saying was true; it could have put her off wanting to know him altogether and then where would he be?  'What changed your mind?' he asked, having a sudden urge to know.

    She glanced away for a few moments to consider it. 'Curiosity. Well, that and needing that sense of belonging, I guess. Besides, it was all those years ago and you are still my Dad... '

   Of course, he was unlike like his father. Despite how imperious he may seem at work, kindness shown in other forms helped confirm that. Neil had decided there was nothing to gain from holding on to the past; it is what it is. It was best to simply get on and enjoy his daughter, you can't fight fate. Under this certitude, however, there was that streak of guilt at his father's corrupt means of climbing the pinnacle of success. That had started to resurface with her presence, and he now understood why Saskia had been such a fierce secret all these years.

    '.... plus, I'm ruddy old enough to make my own mind up, aren't I?'

    'You certainly are.' he said, with a hint of misdeed and gave his eyebrows a teasing lift in telling her so. After last night, he was more than sure of that.

    'Anyway,' she continued, before her flutter-gut started up, just to be unacted upon. 'I know Mum was scared I'd be left on my own - parentless. But I ended with the best backup any daughter could wish for. And some... '

    He stared intensely at that face, unsmiling. Fuck, he loved her so much. So overly, overly much.

    'Right,' she said briskly, putting her cup on the bedside unit, and flinging the covers back, 'I had better get a move on.' 

    Carefree of being bare, she crawled for her night slip that Neil had folded at the foot of the bed, slung it over her shoulder as she headed to the en suite. It took a few cold water splashes to the face to settle the edginess she saw in her reflection. She really didn't know how her mum would react to his presence or his kindness; he was regarded as the big bad ogre sometimes. But nothing could mar the defining moment that unfolded for her last night, and of others still to come. It would a week into January before she saw him again and those feelings would be all she had to see her through. Sod it. This was her time now, not her mother's, and she flitted happily back into the room, kissing his cheek before plunking herself next to him - knees tucked under as usual - on the two-seated sofa.

   'Uh... maybe it's time to start getting dressed, Saskia?'
   'Yeah, will do in a minute.' He really was keen to get going, but there was a personal matter at hand  needed to broached, and Saskia was keen to get it dealt with. 'Well... aren't you going to ask, me?'

  'Ask you, what?'           

  'What every man worries about the next morning. It was what I thought your strange quietness was all about this morning, well that and you fucking off and dumping me... '

   'Don't be silly... ' he was quick to allay such a thought.

   'Let's not beat about the bush, then, just get it over with, it's bound to have concerned you?' A certain something needed to be faced, granted, and Neil was intending to do so on the drive to her house, but she wanted it over with now.  'But there's no chance we're gonna have a two-headed baby.' 

   He tutted and gave her a scornful look. 'Is that so?' God, her ways could be seriously incorrigible.  'But you know what I mean, and if you and me - in future - are gonna...' His hand was flicking awkwardly back and forth in a me-to-you motion, ' you know... be together, we'll need to consider—'

   She held her bottom lip in a light, lopsided bite, relishing his babbling. As much as the idea of toying with him during this was tempting, she had to allay any doubts. 

   'Right... ' she said, holding her left arm poker straight, palm facing upwards. She tapped at a point in her inner arm a few inches along from her armpit. '... see that little scar?'

    He peered closer. 'Oh, aye... that wee thing there?'
    'Well, there's an implant under it stopping me from getting pregnant - something I can assure you is not on the cards for a loooooong time, most likely never at all, I'm really not maternal. Nope. I prefer the ones you can return.'

   'But, it's foolproof?'

   'Totally. It lasts five years and I've had it about eighteen months now...  you can press it if you like?' She took Neil's hand and guided a fingertip over for a feel for himself.  'I get reminded after four years that it's potency has a year to go.' 

   'And then?'

   'And then I pop in for a chat with the doctor, tell him I want another one and bingo; one less fear to to encumber my waistline with!' She gripped his hand reassuringly within her own two and rested it on her knee. 'Really, we're fine. There are options anyhow, but I've had no accidents so far, and as hard as it may be to hear - your little angel has had umpteen one night stands.'

  Tipping his gaze to the floor for a bit, he had long worked that one out for himself; it would take a hardcore priest to refuse a night with her. But he felt relieved all the same that protection was in order. Last night there was no thinking time and thankfully no immediate action was required.

  To help wash away the last of his doubts she freed his hand from hers, and placed a reassuring kiss to his lips and every molecule within him, reacting as they must. 

    From this point onwards, they began sorting out their nocuous and incestuous journey, yet it didn't feel like it. Close to an illicit affair, perhaps, but why didn't alarm bells ring like fuck in his ear, or toil in his grey matter telling him to split, to run and never come back? No matter how this love represented itself, he knew it still wouldn't alter its upmost, inescapable fact.

   'What we're doing, Saskia, we know what it is, don't we?'

   'Yes.' she replied, jerking up her chin in bold defiance. 'Ours. That's what it is. Yours and mine. Exactly that.' 

   He gave a slow, gentle smile in acceptance of this as she she placed a palm on his cheek. 'Take it easy, Raptor, just remember I love you.' she said, with her thumb rubbing over his cheek..

   He took her hand from his face and kissed it, hopelessly attuned. 'I love you, too.'  

   It felt sweetly and incurably bizarre how a normal saying had taken on an extra meaning. Everyday I love you's were also repeated under far deeper terms; he'd transmuted to both father and lover overnight. And he was right, it will be scaring him being her lover; she could taste fear on his lips ever so mildly. This she needed to chase that away before he took it abroad with him to fester.

   'Now... ' she chirped, looking at him with a mischievously alluring expression. A mood lightener was  needed and if he was in, he was all in; there was no reason why she and her nonsensical motives should be any easier on him, 'if only you had woken me up ten minutes earlier... ' She leaned and whispered in his ear, '...you could be joining me.'  Shooting off for the quickest shower ever, she left him with his insides stirring; yet another thing to join her growing box of attributes. She was a sexual tease.

   'Don't do this to me girl...' he said out of her earshot, cursing the clock. As much as the thought of her words sweetened the sole, they had no option but to take grasp of their plans for the day; she was expected home soon, and he had to finalise his Christmas plans with his friend. It was going to be a long two weeks.

By the time Saskia had showered and dressed, she tutted and shook her head at Neil when she saw the room in even more orderly shape (curtain pleats tugged and equally spaced, plumped up cushions, glasses washed and put away etc). Needless stuff. He literally must be every maid's ideal guest.

    'Ready to visit your ex, then?' Saskia teased, while Neil simply harrumphed.

    He had just placed their bags outside the doorframe - triggering the automatic lock out function - when he realised Saskia had raced back over to the foot of the bed, feeling frantically under the covers. He gave a what-the-fuck gesture until she held up her knickers, stretching them by the waist, and made them do a little 'dance' for him before tucking them into her pocket with a jocular grin. That girl and her raillery; all he had to do was allow the door to swing shut and she'd need a member of staff to let her out!

   'You do,' he said in absolute agreement with himself, 'you really do do my head in... ' 

   'Well, I couldn't just leave them there, could I?' she said, justifiably. 

   She could have. They'd go arm's length straight in the bin. Anyone finding them would not envision the real story they'd tell. But at least, he reasoned, she hadn't exposed them to him in the corridor where cameras loomed; Christ, they would have to manage their future moves carefully. But as they were heading to the foyer she was smart enough to know that around others she had to be on her best, non-loquacious behaviour around Neil's continuing gentility. 

                               *                                            *                                          *

The journey home was relatively the same; her prattling away in Saskia-psychobabble, Neil smiling throughout it, resisting yet another reminder that he mostly gives her peace to drive. But the one-sided conversing had to drop once he needed help with directions. 

   The deal she had made with her mother was not to get too hungover as they were to meet up with friends for a light lunch and stocking-filler shopping. But a hangover was all that Beverly was expecting Saskia to bring back with her, and nerves kicked in a little bit as to how her mother would react at seeing him, the closer they got to home.

    Driving further into this rather soggy-looking suburbia, Neil customarily clocked the house-types down Furtham Road. Ghastly ones with red roof slates and plastic piping; a vast downsize also since his days of dating Beverly. He wouldn't quite have expected her to live happily in a semi-detached either, when compared to the house she was raised in; its large back garden was this property's saving grace. Everything looked bigger in the photo's from Saskia's album. While cameras are supposed to never lie, they can visually deceive. Inside, however, the décor was fresh, modern and comfortably habitable.

The near-silent engine of Neil's Mercedes-Benz parked up into the drive, and he retrieved a Christmas bouquet they'd stopped off to buy from the rear seat. Once she retrieved her suitcase from the boot, Saskia led Neil round the back and entered the house via the glass patio door.  On hearing the slide from the rails, Beverly headed to the kitchen, struggling with putting in an earring and not aware at first that her daughter had company.

   'Hope you're not too hungover. Senga's having to bring that bloody brat nephew with her to lunch until his dad's home, and you know how he pesters the life out of— '  In startlement at seeing him stood there with Saskia, she let the back of the earring fall to the floor causing the hoop to hang precariously from the lobe. 'Neil... ?' 

    'Hi, Beverly,' he smiled. 

    Her head drew back quickly, as if she didn't quite believe what she was seeing. 'My, my!'

    Nodding towards her, he quite genuinely said, 'You're looking good.' 

    It was true. Her shortish hair had grown back sufficiently; makeup and complexion was rather flattering.
    'Oh, thank you. Yeah, treatment eventually paid off, so I'm on a bit of an even keel for now.'
    'Dad's just popped in to wish you a merry Christmas.' Saskia hurriedly explained, parking herself upon a nearby stool.
    'Oh aye, ah... ' Neil stepped forward and pecked the side of her cheek. 'Merry Christmas, Beverly... ' he said, and took a step back before realising the flowers were still in his hand. 'Oh, these are for you too,' he said. Taking a second step forward to hand over the flowers, Saskia was finding mirth in his gaucherie.

   Beverly gave Saskia a quick glance and managed to muster up a little smile herself.  'Oh that's sweet, but you really shouldn't have.'

    'Hope you like them. Mind you, I did have a little helper in choosing them,' he nodded to Saskia, 

    'Dad!' she protested loudly, 'you're making me sound as if I'm under ten!'

    He gave a deliberate cough into his clutched hand and mumbled a quip that Beverly didn't get. Something covert and making sense only to them as they continued to exchange a string of quips and giggles. 

    'Well, thank you, anyway Neil,' Beverly said, interrupting their tete a tete. paying close attention to the palling up between them. 'I'm guessing it was a good night then?'

    You better believe it, Saskia inwardly said to herself, having to bite her bottom lip harder to keep her thoughts unsullied.  'Amazing night. I'll tell you all about it at lunch.'  Omitting a few details of course. 'Plenty photos.'
    Then a strained silence hung in the room before Beverly broke it. 'Where are my manners! Can I offer you a coffee, Neil?'  She turned and laid the bouquet down gently by the sink. 

    'No, no,' he answered straight back, 'I'll let you get on with your day.' He went over to Saskia and kissed the top of her yet-glittersome hair, then pointed at her. 'I'll Skype you Christmas day, round about noon?'

    'Yeah, got it. Bye Dad'
    With a farewell smile headed Beverly's way, he slid open the patio door he'd entered by and left.

    On his drive home, he felt rather deflated about the length of time he'd be away, despite it usually being the golfing highlight of his year. Letting his mind drift over the events of last night, he gave a fleetingly perverse thought to the fact that he must be one of the few men who had actually (as opposed to that fantasied about) tried both mother and daughter - albeit thirty years apart and not in the same bed. He suddenly berated himself for letting such a thought surface. But still, he must be one of the very few.

           *                 *                *               *                *                *                *                *

Beverly stood with hands on her hips, while Saskia sat almost inanimate on her seat, feeling her mum's fiery glare upon her. She was reluctant to look her in the eye.

   'What the fuck!?'
    Saskia gave an exasperated sigh. 'What was I supposed to do? He just wanted to wish you well, see how you were doing.'

    'Why, for God's sake? Surely you tell him that stuff if he asks?'

    'Maybe he wanted to see for himself.'

    Beverly's face was beginning to glow pink quickly under her makeup. 'But you knew not to... I stressed and better stressed never to bring him here, didn't I?

    'So a two minute drop by is really that hard to deal with, is it?'

    'Yeah, especially one without warning.'

    'It was flung upon me out of the blue, Mum.'

    'A quick phone call could have deterred it.'

    'This is ridiculous, he was hardly here five minutes. I don't know what all the fuss is about.'

    'Oh, don't you? Do you need another reminder then, about—'

    'Christ, Mum, there's no pleasing you, is there?' Saskia slid from the stool to stand face to face, giving her mum the one pivotal fact that she seemed to be forgetting. 'It's you that needs reminding. Me and him is all down to you. You started it. You wanted this!'

    'You know the score, Saskia... '

    This ranting was doing Saskia's brains in. Her mum's ridiculous reaction, with its ever-increasing tone was bringing her post-party headache to throb and pound past bearing point; her newfound happiness and loved-up fuzz being torn at bit by bit. Whatever had gone on in her mother's past to make such hatred spilled, Neil was no ogre; it was unfair of Beverly to disrespect him like that. Take from him his riches and systematic businesslike head, and you'll find a man with flaws and vulnerabilities, humor and decorum, aches and tender spots, too. 

    'Yes, I do, mum.'  And reality suddenly gripped in a harsh reminder of the separate journeys each were undertaking. 'But whatever happened between you both, I can assure you he's not like that now.' 

    Beverly sneered, ridicule pasted all over her face as she slowly shook her head.  'You amaze me at times, Saskia... '

   'For what? Making my own mind up for a change? He's really not that bad a person, Mum.'  Saskia had arrived at that conclusion almost from the off, and right now she would love to sling his huge donation made that morning, straight in her face. But she couldn't. That would only complicate and exacerbate things. Regarding the Neil Balfour she knew, she was increasingly struggling with her mother's verbal destruction of him.

    'Jesus....can you not just listen to yourself!'

    'Listen to myself?' Saskia incredulously shouted back at her, arms gesticulating wildly. 'Well who else do I have, because you never want to listen to anything I've got to say regarding him and you never ask. You threw me at him to just get on with it!'

    A  laugh, loud and bitter, erupted from Beverly,  'Aw, listen to daddy's little girl. It's probably a blessing your Grampa's not here to listen to this!'

    Fuck it, Saskia said to herself. Her grandfather was now being used as a weapon, and she knew by habit that a mention of him was often setting the scene for things to turn ugly. Not wanting to risk that possibility, Saskia made her way to the stairs. 'Sorry Mum, but you'll have to meet Senga yourself today, I'm going to bed.'

    'No you're not,' Beverly tagged directly behind her, 'you're not leaving me on my own with that kid in tow!'

    Stopping on the bottom step, Saskia swung round. 'This'll just get worse if I go... you'll not drop this.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'You're dragging Grampa into things far too often now, it's getting too much.'

    'Too much? You know how he died! So... you're gonna give up on him this quick are you? Or should we just forget he even existed?'

   'Of course not...' Saskia sighed and sat down in frustration onto the stairs, '... but I'm not sure if blame's being sent in the right direction anymore....or should even be there at all.'

   'Really?' Beverly stared wide eyed and slack-jawed at her, and yet again Saskia felt that her words were diffident. She needed to put it to her assertively; as it really is.

   'Mum, I'm fed up with the foul atmosphere in here, I've put up with it for months now. I know it's been a tough time for you, but it's not anybody's fault that Grampa died.'

                        Saskia poked a finger at her mum,

                        'Not your fault.'

                        Then on herself, firmly in the chest;

                        'Not my fault.'

                        Then pointed at the door Neil left through;

                        'And not his fault, okay?'

   The look that Saskia was given in response of her brave, overdue words, robbed her of breath and she froze. 

    'What did you say?' Beverly asked in a quiet snarl, then screamed vehemently, 'WHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY..!?' Then she erupted.
   An anger to match such contorted, formidable features surged through her and before Saskia had the chance to flee, her mother struck a lightening-fast, fisted blow to her head, followed by a harsh tug of her hair as she tried to stand. Held facedown by the back of her head, Beverly shouted over Saskia's pleas;
    'Don't you dare try to excuse him, it was him and his bastard father that killed your Grampa! Do you fucking hear me?'
    As a terrified and shocked Saskia was trying to beg for release from this inconceivable and apoplectic outburst, she was tasting blood in her mouth by kicks from her mother's boots, all the while ranting her fury. And the instant the kicks stopped, punches pummeled over her head, despite trying her best to shield.  Screams and pleas proved useless, and only when Beverly could manage no more due to exhaustion did she ease up; taking off and leaving Saskia in a crumpled heap. 

   Never before had she been exposed to such brutality from her mum and it scared the living daylights out of her. Where did that violent strength come from? Blood stains and clustered rasps of hair lay thick at the foot of the stairs, but Beverly never gave them a second glance as she ventured out, wearing different earrings.

In a slow and painful crawl on her elbows, she made it to her room. Pulling herself onto her bed, blood still streamed from her nose, so she shook the pillow out of its case and scrunched it to her face. Lowering it a few moments later, she braved a glance in the mirror and sobbed even heartier, each tear begging for Neil. She knew if she called him right now, he would postpone his break. But she couldn't. Just as the revering love for him must be kept secret, just as vitally this beating never happened. 

                   **End of   UNDONE**