If Only I Could
Chapter 10
John Willoughby knew where she worked and he knew they kept reasonably to office hours. She should be done by five or soon after the latest. Just in case she was early, he had gone there on his motorbike and found a himself a good spot to wait for her. The bus stop almost opposite the office building's main entrance was a perfect place in case he had to wait for a long time. No one noticed people on a bus stop. At one point he saw that he could get himself a coffee without having to lose sight of the entrance, but he'd then taken his coffee back to the stop. She had ignored his calls and messages yesterday but he was determined to talk to her. She'd been leading him on, thinking she was interested in him and then suddenly she'd pulled away and wasn't even prepared to talk about it sober. There had to be someone else. Girls wanted to be with him, they didn't dump him. At least not before they even got started properly.
At five Willoughby started to get a little nervous. She still hadn't come out so surely she'd come any second now. But some guy had come out and was standing near the entrance. It would be hard to get Marianne to come with him if she was being stubborn. The guy might get the wrong idea if there was any argument. "Fuck of you square pillock," Willoughby cursed in his thoughts. For a moment it looked like the man started to walk off, but he only went a short distance to the pavement and stopped there, keeping his eyes on the building's entrance. Willoughby could only hope that Marianne would not make a fuss and just come with him.
Soon enough he spotted Marianne. She stopped outside the doors and looked around and Willoughby thought this was his chance. He started to cross the street, but almost immediately stopped in his tracks: Marianne had spotted whatever she had been looking for: that man! "Fuck," Willoughby hissed. He'd been right: she had someone else. "Bitch!" he spat, careful not to be too loud. There was nothing to it, he'd have to confront them. The man had guided Marianne to start walking away from the building and where Willoughby had been standing. It took Willoughby a moment to manoeuvre himself across the street with all the cars around, and he half ran after the pair.
"Marianne! Marianne!" he shouted as he got close enough. Marianne stopped and turned, looking rather shocked. Or guilty, Willoughby concluded. She had reason to feel guilty.
"What is this? Who is this guy? Why didn't you reply or answer yesterday?" Willoughby was spewing questions like they were accusations. He approached Marianne fast, ignoring the other man for now. He needed to show Marianne whom she was dealing with.
"Johnny!" she managed to gasp. Meanwhile Brandon had immediately identified the somewhat oily looking younger man. His attempt at the shabby bad-boy look looked no more impressive to him than it had on Saturday afternoon.
"Is this why you wouldn't be with me? This guy? You're fucking this posh pillock from your office, that's it, isn't it!" Willoughby continued throwing his accusations around. Marianne could hardly believe what she was hearing. This was so embarrassing and Christopher was right there. He'd surely re-evaluate whether he wanted to be associated with her now!
"No, Johnny, that's not it…" she tried to defend herself.
"Don't give me that, things were going nice on Saturday until something happened, what was it? He called you or something?"
"Johnny, no! You were drunk and I didn't want to go with you. And it just confirmed what I was thinking already. I don't want to be with you… You're scaring me now, please, you should go… " she tried explaining again. Technically, Johnny was not wrong: one big reason for not wanting to be with Johnny was her attraction to the man beside her who had just put a protective arm around her shoulders and gently manoeuvred himself to stand more between Marianne and John Willoughby.
"It's probably better that you go now," Brandon stepped in, talking in a calm, low voice.
"Stay out of this, I'm talking to Marianne," Willoughby said to Brandon and moved towards Marianne, managing to grab her by the wrist. She tried to pull away but the younger man's grip was unyielding.
"No, let me go!" Marianne shouted, but John Willoughby was past listening. Marianne had to listen to him, and he was going to make sure that she would. And when she listened to him, she'd know for sure she was supposed to be with him.
Before the situation had a chance to escalate any further, Brandon had moved quickly and suddenly had a vice-like grip on Willoughby's wrist and he'd managed to get hold of the man's other wrist as well, bending it behind the man's back, lifting the hand up towards the shoulder blades. By the time this movement registered with Willoughby and he let out a yelp in agony, Brandon's face was mere inches from his and there was no mistaking how serious the older man was. Willoughby's bravado escaped him and his knees just about went wobbly from the pain he was feeling and more so from Brandon's stare.
"I asked you to leave, the lady does not want to go with you an she does not want to see you," Brandon's voice was low and quiet, but there was no mistaking the menace in it. Brandon pressed harder on Willoughby's wrist, the one still holding Marianne's arm, and with a whimper the younger man let go. At that moment Brandon gave him a firm shove away from him and let go. Surely the cad got the message now.
"Fuck you! Both of you. I just wanted to talk to you!" Willoughby swore at them as he took steps backwards, nursing his wrist.
"Come, Marianne, let's get away from him," Brandon said quietly to Marianne as he collected the shocked girl under his arm by her shoulders and started to walk her away from the building and the younger man who was still retreating slowly. There was rage in Willoughby's eyes and Brandon was worried this would not be the end of the affair yet. He'd need to do something to make sure Marianne would not get ambushed like that again.
When Brandon looked down at the girl under his arm, he saw disbelief and shock and the beginnings of tears in her eyes.
"Shh, it's ok, it's over now. Let's find somewhere and have a drink, I think you could do with one," he kept talking to her quietly close to her ear. She started to take deep breaths, clearly trying to calm herself down.
Brandon saw a free black cab and hailed it over. The foody pub he'd intended to take her to in the first place wasn't that far away and so his original plan of taking her there in a taxi was still valid. The taxi driver saw the girl was upset.
"You all right there, love?" he queried carefully, watching the interaction between the pair. It looked like this fellow was not causing the young woman's anguish, but it never hurt to check.
"Yes, thanks, I'm fine," she managed to answer situating herself tightly under the man's arm as he again wrapped it around her shoulder. No, he was not the cause of her problems, the driver thought when he looked at her body language and the man's concerned face.
Quick instruction as to where to go saw the pair on their way. Brandon had already dreamed of having this woman in his arms, but this was not quite how he'd pictured it. What shook him was the strength of his emotional response to her pain: it grated him to see her upset and he knew he'd always do everything in his power for her not to feel like that again.
"How did you do that?" She asked after a little while. Marianne had finally pulled herself together and had conquered the tears that threatened to spill earlier. Brandon knew what she meant, the way he grabbed that fellow.
"I used to take part in all manner of wild and physical sport when I was still young and nimble enough," he brushed it off, not really wanting to get into detail regarding the ways he'd learned to let of steam in his late teens. He'd been a little hot headed in his youth and after getting into trouble once or twice he'd realised he needed to curb his temper.
"You all right?" he then asked, changing the focus back to her. She nodded, but despite still leaning onto him quite heavily she seemed a bit distant.
"Would you like me to take you home?" he then asked. Not ideal start to an evening with someone you're considering a relationship with. "What are those called", he mocked himself, "oh yes, a date."
Marianne was not sure. She was certain he'd be off her now for certain, and Johnny had spooked her rather badly. Then again, tucked away under Christopher's arm was the warmest and safest she'd really felt for a short eternity. How had she not realised she'd felt that insecure all this time? Christopher had saved her. Maybe she would have been able to shake herself free from Johnny there, but it would have taken a considerably more screaming and fighting. Christopher had diffused the whole thing before it truly started and he was holding her close. What she had felt when he kissed her was slowly coming back to her now and she decided to ignore the insecure part of her.
"No, it's ok. Let's do what we planned. I think I should perhaps explain what that was." She said to him.
The pub really was not far and quite soon they arrived. It was a little early for the dinner crowds and Monday was not the most popular evening for after-work drinks either so the pair were able to pick a nice corner table near a window. Brandon left Marianne at the table to get drinks. She had asked for a red wine but he returned with two brandies.
"He'll bring us a bottle in a bit, but I thought we could do with something sturdier first," Brandon explained. Marianne gave a nervous laugh. He was probably right – after all her hands were still shaking – it was just that she wasn't really too accustomed to strong drinks like brandy. All the same, she had a sip of it and tried not to make too much of a face as the burning liquid washed over her tongue and down her throat. The effect seemed to be immediate and Marianne found herself taking calmer breaths already.
"I'm so sorry about that," she then started to explain.
"It's ok…"
"No, it's not really. Not ok. He shouldn't have done that."
"He's the lad who picked you up on Saturday," Brandon then stated. He didn't want to ask her, and yet he desperately needed to know what was going on. Surely she wouldn't be here if she was spoken for? No, that's not what that scene was about.
"Yes, he picked me up. You saw him?" she realized. So Christopher must have been watching her even after he'd strormed off.
"Anyways, I haven't really been seeing him that long. You know, nothing definite, just a bit of fun company among mutual friends. He wanted to come to our gig with me on Saturday so I suppose that made it a bit like a date. Except he kept drinking all night and did not really behave in a way that made me want to see him again. Couldn't keep his hands to himself even after I told him several times. So I told him that was it, as clearly as I could, except of course he was probably too drunk to take it in. I suppose I should have taken at least one of his calls yesterday morning to tell him again, but I just froze. Didn't want to have anything to do with him, really." Marianne explained. Brandon listened quietly, not wanting to interrupt her with questions, not wanting her to think he was judging her. So she had a bad date after he'd made it rather clear to her that there was to be nothing between her and himself. She wasn't in an exclusive relationship with either of them and realising this lifted a heavy stone off his chest.
Instead of saying anything he tentatively reached across the table where her hand was playing with the stem of the brandy glass. With his finger he very tentatively and lightly stroked her knuckles. Their eyes met and he was searching for the right words.
"What he chose to do there was not your fault."
"He seems to think I've led him on…"
"That's his problem. I can promise you one hundred per cent that the responsibility for such conclusions lie with him. You're allowed to try and get to know someone before deciding whether a relationship moves forward," he said to her as calmly as he could, keeping his eyes on hers.
"Is that what we'll do, try and get to know each other?" she then asked quietly.
"I would be most honoured if you still saw me as someone you'd like to know better," he answered equally quietly.
She turned her hand from playing with the glass stem and slipped it under his hand and took hold of it gently.
"The whole truth about breaking it off with him before anything ever even started was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Does that shock you?" Marianne confessed. Brandon still kept his eyes on her, then grasped her hand more firmly.
"It surprises me, in the best way possible. I have not been able to stop thinking about you either."