Forfeit (Original Edit)

Chapter Fifteen

Oh God, the DAF code word. He needed me. Throw in a communication black-out for the last five days and I knew he must be down again. But on the upside, he was coming home early and I could ask him to move in. I pictured his delighted face.

The British Airways flight wasn't due into Manchester for a couple of hours, so I played dress up until I stood in a red cashmere sweater, skin-tight jeans and the sexy purple Jimmy Choo boots. I looked at the Aga-less kitchen as I tied an enormous scarf around my neck, hoping Xander would want to live here when the kitchen had no cooking facilities. I'd simply have to keep him in bed for two days to distract him.

The drive to the airport was interminably slow due to torrential rain but I'd left in plenty of time. I wanted to be the one waiting, so he'd know I was there for him. A few French manicured nails were distressed while I stood in arrivals but, finally, there he was - stupidly tanned, sexily dishevelled and looking absolutely miserable under his over-sized beanie.

'Christ, I'd like to cheer that up,' muttered a girl behind me.

You won't get to, poppet, but I will.

His eyes stayed focused on mine as weaved his way through the taxi drivers holding up signs and my heart lurched. Like I had before he left, I wanted to cry. Ohmigod. I hadn't realised just how much I'd missed him. We kissed without any care for who the hell watched and afterwards, as I gazed into his puppy dog eyes, I wondered if Clara was right. Maybe I did love him.

'I'm so glad you're back,' I whispered. 'I... I've missed you.'

He rested his forehead against mine. 'Can we go home?'

Xander didn't say another word as we walked to the car and the second he closed the passenger door, he started rolling a joint.

'Where the hell did you get that from?'

'I've just flown in from Jamaica, where do you think?'

'You brought a huge bag of weed through customs? You could've been arrested.' I stared at him, appalled, but he glared back. 'You can't smoke that in here. I'll get stoned driving.'

'Are you going to bitch all the way home?' He dropped the bag with a petulant sigh before closing his eyes and ignoring me for the rest of the journey.

This wasn't going quite as I'd planned.

    

'Fridge full of food as usual.' He opened a can of coke and lit his joint.

'You can't cook anyway.' I pointed to the gaping hole where the Aga once lived. 'Hated it.'

'New windows?'

I nodded. 'So what-'

'Can I go to bed, I'm knackered?' Without waiting for my reply he disappeared upstairs.

This wasn't going at all as I'd planned.

   

He came down after a couple of hours, showered, shaved and looking thoroughly bad tempered. I wasn't sure if he was cross with me or cross with the world, but whatever it was, I wasn't bloody asking.

'Pub,' he said - a statement, not a question.

I nodded.

In the Miller's Arms, we sat at our favourite table and I remembered the night before he went away. We'd come here and gazed into each other's eyes, talking nonsense in front of the toasty fire. Now, I wondered if I could sit through the horrific silence. I couldn't.

'Xander?' I raised my eyebrows and smiled but he didn't react. 'What's wrong? You know you can talk to me.'

Instead of answering me, he yawned and white wires briefly poked out between his scarf and oversized bloody beanie. He was listening to an iPod? Leaning over, I pulled the earphones out.