Beautiful Pain (ch38)

        start of  ***BEAUTIFUL  PAIN***

⏳ A month down the line had passed when he caved, sending her an impeccably worded  text asking her not to reply but to meet him Tuesday night by the benches outside the Mossfield Hotel - a small licensed establishment beside the handy strand of one-stop shops that they often used. It was a twenty minute walk from his flat and he decided that meeting her at an outdoor, quiet location wouldn't feel so troublesome; he couldn't face having her back at his home.    

   Saskia had remained determined not to contact him beforehand now that he had apparently unblocked her number. Perhaps he'd already blocked it again, but she didn't want to know that: she would rather be carried along by the anaesthesia of false hope, than none at all.  It was imperative her mother didn't get a whisper of this as she couldn't allow anything to balls this chance up; as much as she dreaded it at the same time.   

Despite an earlier growing hunger, Neil couldn't face any food, he just changed quickly into jeans and casual jumper, necking a couple of whiskies before setting off. There was a chance she might not even show up, but he doubted it.

   Sitting on a bench by the riverside, he saw a car parking in the grounds of the hotel, and made out her shape behind the wheel. She gave it a couple of minutes before getting out to walk towards him, taking each step with her head bowed as if ready for the guillotine.

   She came into closer view with looks that defied earthly reasoning.  God, was she beautiful, standing there in those funky clothes she deemed her own, her hair misbehaving in the breeze. It was hard to believe something so exquisite had the kiss of a cancer, mouth of a chronic liar.  For once, those padded lips didn't induce that dimpled, captivating smile on seeing him. He tensed a little as she sat a respectable gap from him by the arm of the bench, instantly feeling his recrimination by the set of his shoulders. He spoke first;

   'You know... I wondered what words would spring to mind first on seeing you, and I think congratulations is fitting enough.'
   She wasn't going to hit him with an apology right away, that would be too insulting. 'You didn't deserve it. I really do feel awful.'
   'Do you?' he scoffed.  'And I'm still finding it an amazing thing to try to pull off, especially the tenacity it was done under. Fell right for it as well, like a right bloody idiot.'
   'It all started to change and I didn't know what else to do.'
   'Not taking part to start with... how's that for a suggestion?'
   Saskia lowered her head. 'Mum's a hard person to say no to.'

   'So all of it... her idea?' he queried, not that it made much difference to him now, but he had to ask. 'No 'No fucking around, I want to know as much as possible, beginning to end. I'm owed that at least.'

   'Yes, I know you are. I'll try my best to—'

   'Sod any best effort, Saskia... just start talking before I change my mind and up and leave.'

   Saskia threw her head to the skies, taking a deep, bracing breath. 'Okay, okay.' She nodded. 'It all stemmed from an article and photo in the newspaper, the one with you holding your Businessman of the Year award. Grampa had a copy of the paper by his bed at the nursing home, folded over at that very page. Mum come across it when we were clearing his room after he died.'

   'And that pushed her to come up with this elaborate plan?'
   Both were looking straight ahead, not yet meeting eye to eye. Saskia had vowed to tell him the truth - no matter how much it may hurt -  as the police hadn't uncovered everything to him in their inquires.
   'That's what incited her, she blamed that for his death. But things got worse after she found out that Grampa didn't have a little nest egg tucked aside for us after all when he died.  The house was the only asset to our name and the mortgage became solely for us to find. Then when Fay - the friend we ran Cooper's Café with - got her cancer diagnosis told her that she wouldn't be helping to renew the lease on the café once the year was up, she got desperate - panicking that we'd not have enough money to eventually settle down in Spain with Corrine.'

   Neil was listening keenly, curious to find out if the version the police gave him carried the same details.

    'She knew how readily money poured in for charity - it certainly did at Fay's coffee morning. People take pity, don't they? And once she'd had her shaved head, the whole concocted idea came about. Exactly how much was thought out by that point, I can't remember, but she kept at me with this crazy plan. '

   Sitting forward now, elbows on knees and clasping his hands, he let out a huge sigh. 'And you quite happily went along with it?'

   'No, no... not at first. Of course I thought she was mad... until it all spilled out.'

   'About my father, I'm guessing?'  

   ' Yeah, I got told it all. - The financial history, and how you and your father destroyed our lives.  You were painted darker than black, and I was convinced you deserved it at first. And if her plan failed, she was prepared to the take full blame; I was to act like I was a victim, too, pretend that I didn't know either, and I suppose because she was willing to take the rap, it gave me the confidence to be so bold with what I felt for you.' 

    Neil could remember DCI Bruce telling him that, too. Why she swapped sticking to something that would exonerate her, for a full confession that implicated her, he wasn't sure. Police involvement finally bouncing her back to reality? He doubted she was sure of that herself. In the name of love or not, it was simply too little, too late.

   Saskia could see out the corner of her eye that he had turned to face her, and now looked at him too.

   'So, how were you to extort money from me?'
   'Ask for it. For a flat, car, or just outright. She didn't care how, that bit was up to me.'

   'Why not just call my office, I mean she managed to hunt me down? If her letter had been worded strongly enough, I would probably have just given her it had she asked.'
   'She wasn't wanting to take that chance of refusal.'
   'So instead she invented us - with the added bonus of crushing me at the same time.'
   'Please believe I didn't know you at all, hadn't even heard of you when I agreed to the underhandedness of stringing you along, and I'd no idea how much she loathed you.' With eyes closed , she gently shook a remorseful head at what she'd done. 'It was to be quick and easy, I shouldn't have let things get as far as they did.'  

   'Then why did you?'
   Eyes opening, she frowned in confusion; surely it was obvious. 'I had to. I'd fallen for you.'
   He sneered.  'Och, how can you say that, Saskia?'
   'Because it's true! The longer she waited for her money the longer I had you.' A bright coral flush  crawled over her chest and neck.

   Neil sat up straight again and angled himself to face her more.  'Just how long was that to be? I mean it was to have a final outcome, an end at some point - surely?'

   'I know!' she said loudly, quickly losing composure; he'd wondered how long it would take the quivery chin and waterworks to begin. 'But I had to carry on keeping you in the dark, and telling her I needed more time despite the risks. But each day we had together was a bonus, and I wouldn't accept any night being the last I may see you, so I had to do my damnedest to keep that ending from happening. I mean, I could have fleeced you months ago, and fucked off, you know that.'

   'Oh, aye, that I do. And the old fool would have coughed up so you and your mother, or whomever, could be whooping it up in a fountain of sangria right now.'
   They both held a willful silence as a woman walking her dog was passing. The wiry scruff of a thing made a diagonal pull on its retractable leash towards them, hoping for scratch on the head. As disinterested as he was with dogs, he watched it up on its back legs, tail wagging briskly as it sniff and licked away at the salty wetness from Saskia's cheeks. She mustered up the need to give the dog some attention back before its owner pulled it away, apologising for its pestering. And Neil thought dogs were good at character judgment; seems she had a charm over animals, too. He waited until the woman was out of earshot before continuing.

   'You played your part so well, Saskia. That word Dad seemed to flow off your tongue fluently, you didn't falter, not once.'

   'I didn't care what word was used to keep you in my life, what lie was needed. You had to lie yourself  to the police to keep me in yours.'

   'Thought I was lying...' he snidely corrected her.

   'But that's what we were willing to do, wasn't it?'

   He was reluctant to answer as he knew she was right, and she used this as a spark of encouragement that he may be beginning to accept her plight. With something important to fight for she had to be that bit bolder, get results in what ever manner it took.

**************************************************************************

 'Look, I switched off reality to live the fantasy. I was so proud calling you my dad And it was easier to live that lie when you've a mother who didn't want you; when you're the result of drunken nights during the holiday season. Fuck knows who my dad is, so forgive me for getting carried away and feeling what being wanted was actually like!'

   'Forgive you? Ah, hold on... am I supposed to feel sorry for you here?' Neil asked austerely.

   'No, of course not, I'm the one who's sorry. You did feel real to me, though.'
   'Aye, real enough for me to sink to the depth of depravity for you, while you were living in this constructed fantasy. You knew it wasn't incest!' His gaze pierced and drilled more guilt into her heart. 

   Saskia covered her face with her hands, she knew she'd gutted this man and it hurt.  All that emotion she spouted at the hotel at Christmas, so cunningly interwoven to snare him: breaking laws, rearranging his life, his future, putting her first above everything. But the illicit sex, as wrong as it was, wasn't the high for him.  As much as it was (supposedly) a comfort to her -  one that she was in control of and could stop if she wished so -  it was the simple father-daughter connection he subsisted on. But though her remorse surfaced, he remained unaffected.

   'I hate myself for what I've done to you. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry.' she repeated those useless words as she leaned forward, hugging herself as if she had tummy ache. Neil knew she was genuinely hurting by the clouds forming on that flawless forehead. The apology begged forgiveness, but he took no notice - what was she really expecting? 

  'Sorry for what? Near destroying me and my sanity? Turning me into a laughing stock?  Or the end of the luxuries and expensive presents?' Neil knew that his latter comment was below the belt. What were odd hundreds here and there to a multi-millionaire? But he had to remember he was the one who endured the worst of this ordeal.

   Sobs came, huge and hearty and he let them last until she attempted to regain composure, trailing a sleeve under her nose and sniffed. 'I'm sorry for it all. I really am.'

   'No amount of heartfelt sorries will ever cut it, Saskia. You've no idea what I've been through.' 
   He stood, running a hand through his hair as he turned and faced the river, giving her a better glance at the large flowery gift bag that had been resting by his side. He picked up on this and followed her line of vision. 

   'Ah,' he said, pertaining to it by sliding it over to her,  'While we're kinda on the subject, I brought the last of the smaller things you left in the flat, posted your clothes and bigger things on this morning.' 

   Bang went the very slim chance that the gift bag was some sort of forgiveness present, and she felt stupid for allowing herself that tiny surge of optimism. The remainder of her stuff had to go to erase the deceit and mind-twisting lies of her true character. 

   He never thought he'd ever know her other than being his daughter; under whose warped confabulation transformed him dramatically. What a pity what had started so promisingly (initially shaping him into a man with priority outside work and wealth) had ended in such a mess. Both had been refusing to face facts, bringing the other spectacularly down in the harshest of ways. But there comes a time where you can only expend so much effort and energy and his was now spent; hers well and truly squandered. As he remained standing, she thought this an indication for him being ready to leave.

   'Please don't go!' she begged. 'Please, just stay a bit longer... ' She had been on the verge of saying Dad. That word she coined and believed in in her own dizzy head. 'I've booked a room in the hotel, can't we just go there to talk - have a drink?'
   He laughed incredulously. 'You think this will all be forgotten with a bottle and a bed?  You've fucked me up enough. Don't flatter your sweet-little-self. Big Julia would be in with a better shout than you.'  The insult cut deeper than his thunderous expression.

   'Just give me five minutes, in there.' She nodded to the the hotel. 'We can't talk properly out here. Please!' Her voice, head and heart all spoke to him at once. 'Let me at least try to—'

   'For Christ's sake... this can never be resolved, Saskia! What else could you possibly say that would excuse or even make sense of this shit?' He took a few steps away from her, forcing her to her feet, and she flinched a little as he swung swiftly round to face her.  'D'you want to know the utterly pathetic bit in all this, the thought I struggle with every day? All I had to do was check, to make sure you were really my daughter.  A simple test, phone call, even. But who lies about having cancer and children they never even had, who in their right mind goes to that extreme? Beverly pulled a classic double bluff on me, she really would have been better suited to my father! But you, daddy's-little-nobody, helped her cover those tracks quite competently, you kept it going far, far too long. You could have done something about it and you didn't!'

   His words sounded raw, but nothing was more raw than her heart. 'I wanted to tell you the night the police visited us, but I was scared.'

   'You were selfish, you mean. Why didn't you just stiff me over at the start, saved all this torment?'

   'Why didn't you just let me go home from that Christmas party when I wanted to, instead of sending my taxi away?'

   'So this is all MY fault, is it?'

   He turned from her. This was pointless. He'd heard her version, had his say, given her her belongings, No more. He took one last look at the girl who graced his life and shattered his love.

   'Bye, kiddo.' he said, knowing that the term-of-endearment would sting even more. Taking a second to catch his breath, he tucked his hands in his pockets and started to saunter away.

   'Don't you feel anything for me anymore?' she cried after him.

Without looking back, he answered over his shoulder:  'Not since the day you cut off our bloodstream!'

This couldn't be it. Each stride away from her had her head pulse with agitation. Erratic gulps of air were taken between the desperate pleas that loaded themselves on her tongue, but were too quiet for him to hear in her effort to simply breathe.  After one huge inhale she screamed out, 

  'But I  love you, Neil!' 

  He kept on moving.

   A sudden night chill passed through her bare legs, whisking up an unspoken fear that this would be the last time she'd see him, and under a rush of utter panic she ran after him, an unremitting no no no reverberating in her head with each footstep that clumped on the cobbles.  Before he knew it, she grabbed him by the arm in a effort to halt him, and in return received a hard and unexpected strike to the cheek. As her hands went up to nurse the sting he stared at her, near nose to nose.

   'Can you not just accept that it's over!'

   'Please, just—'

   'Okay then, 'Neil snarled, 'maybe this might sink in. As sick and psycho as I thought we both were... you still killed my daughter. Just really think about that, Saskia. And who could forgive that... huh?' After another vile stare he raised an index finger to her face, his breath warming her chin. 'Do not follow me home.'

   In complete disbelief at having been hit with such velocity, a stunned Saskia watched as he rounded the corner.  His parting words were pretty clear; she meant nothing to him now.

  Lost and depleted, with a heavy heart she returned to the bench.  A few people - halted by the outburst -witnessed the assault, but only one elderly man approached her to check if she was alright. Asking if she wanted him to walk her home or to safety, she said no, but he felt more eased on hearing she was booked into the hotel. 

   Lifting the gift bag, she trudged her way, red-faced and mascara streaked, to the little off-licence they frequented most Wednesday's, where they'd read the labels on wine bottles—he for quality, she for volume.  Tonight's lone visit was to call for something considerably stronger....

   *          *          *          *          *          *          *
He arrived back at his apartment block, yet couldn't remember taking the route home, but he was there outside his door - somehow. 

   Keys fell as he tried to unlock the door and on bending to retrieve them, they slipped through his fingers for a second time. With heady thoughts challenging his coordination, he turned his back to the door and slid to the tiled flooring as unexpected tears of despondency ran salted water into his mouth.  Gut-wrenching sobs tore through his chest; loud with intermittent wails echoing in the space around him.  Hugging his knees to him, horrid and happy visions spewed back at him, each vying to dominate his mind, worsening his weeping and inducing random ramblings.

   Like a feckless child, he dragged himself to his feet, telling himself all he needed to do was get indoors and get a grip. After a few attempts through blurring tears he was in. He tried to compose himself with a whisky, but he was emotionally beaten, those scenarios in his mind still menacingly prolonging the grief that had circled inside him for four long weeks. Seeing her again was supposed to be an end, a release from the pain, but he never anticipated the hurt being this strong. 

   Downing two more straight whiskies, he threw himself longways on the couch, staring his torment at the ceiling. He wondered if he'd ever live life outside his head again. Everything now would be based on bedrocks of if only. But the ruinous thing about if only, is its power of forever reminding you of your failings and its reluctance of allowing you to move on without regrets.

Around an hour later, as he felt the dried salt from his tears tacky on his skin, he'd reached a cried-out calm. Reliving the evening in his mind, he started to feel bad about hitting her.  His palm smarted from the brisk contact, so he imaged the skin of her soft cheek hurt one helluva lot more. Never before had he struck a woman, and despite the uncaring pig his father was, he had stressed to his son to never lay a finger on them; why hit women when they had hearts to break - something, ironically, his own mother could attest to. While Saskia's slap marks were beginning to fade, his conscience-on-the-couch was starting to sting. The man, felt the slap - deserved or not - unjustified.  

   Breaking his decision that he was done drinking for the night, he rose and headed for the decanter, and just as the glass touched his lips, the hands of the rotating sand clock that Saskia had made for him, reached the hour, turning its glass-boxed edges to rest in new layers. Slowly he rose and went over to examine what ridges and shapes it had settled in.  

   There was nothing there. No hill scene, no waves like the sea, no ripply field of wheat, no other discerning feature, just bland smooth sand, and the tick of the clock he'd failed to part with, urging him to go. Cursing himself for his next actions, he grabbed his jacket, switched his phone back on and legged it out the door.  

   'I must be off my damned head.' he said aloud, as the lift doors closed. 

               end of  ***BEAUTIFUL  PAIN***

outdated facilities, slack in maintenance checks, cleanliness enough