Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 14
I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, (Tommy as a blond?) but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I'm a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!
Thank you so much for all the nice reviews and encouragement!
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For Judith's sake, Tommy played the welcoming host that evening, circulating, talking to everyone, making sure the drinks and food were plentiful so his sister and her fiancé could simply enjoy themselves, but as the night went on, his duties grated on his nerves. Or rather, truth be told, Bartram grated on his nerves. Pissed him off completely, in fact.
Every time Tommy looked for Barbara, the man was hovering near her. He brought her more wine, he offered her food, he monopolized her attention. The man also stood far too close to her. Granted, the room was full of people and the noise level was high, but Bartram had no business standing so close to Barbara. And she had no business smiling back at him, or enjoying herself in his company.
Tommy recognized that these thoughts and feelings all stemmed from jealousy, although the knowledge didn't lessen the impact. He knew he had a streak of the green-eyed monster in his personality – not one of his most endearing traits – but he felt completely unprepared for how strong his reaction was to the circumstances. He wanted to punch the man for simply talking to her, for god's sake.
He was relieved when he saw others join the social circle around Barbara. The neighbours from the next property over from Howenstow. The local magistrate. The vicar, school friends of Judith's; they all came and went, she spoke with everyone, and they all seemed utterly charmed by her. More than one of the party guests said as much when they spoke to him.
The awkward woman from Acton, who was so determined to find fault and not fit in with anyone, had conquered this new social setting she found herself in without any difficulty at all. Tommy wasn't really surprised; he just hoped she could see how she could thrive anywhere if she let herself. Even his world. Perhaps she would finally see they weren't so very far apart after all.
He made several attempts to make his way across the room to Barbara, frustrated each time by one call or another on his attention. When he finally broke free, he found her sitting with his mother, the ever faithful Sir Richard still hovering nearby. Tommy sat across from them, eyes glaring at the other man. Lady Asherton's eyes twinkled a bit as she looked at her son.
"Richard, would you mind refilling my glass? Sparkling water, I'm afraid. These damn doctors won't let me have any fun."
"Of course, Lady Asherton. Barbara?" The younger woman shook her head, and Bartram set off in search of sparkling water.
"I'm afraid I've abandoned you this evening, Barbara," Tommy apologized. "It seems everyone wants a piece of me tonight."
"Really, sir, it's fine – "
"She's managing just fine without you, Tommy," Lady Asherton interjected, watching him closely. "Everyone is delighted with her. And Richard has been so attentive."
"Yes, I had noticed," Tommy said wryly.
"He's just being kind," Barbara protested, rolling her eyes at him. His expression back was easy enough to read: I don't believe that for a second.
"I had started to ask you earlier, Barbara, about plans for tomorrow. I was thinking – "
"Tommy!" Judith cut in. "It looks as though the champagne stocks are running low. Chase up some more, will you please?" His sister darted off, not waiting for an answer.
He sighed. "In Judith's world, a champagne shortage is life or death. Excuse me."
As Lynley walked away, Bartram returned, handing Lady Asherton a glass of sparkling water. "Thank you so much. Don't let us keep you from the party, Richard." The dismissal was unmistakable, and he took the hint with good grace.
"He was hovering a little too much, dear, don't you think?" Lady Asherton's voice showed her amusement.
"Maybe a little," Barbara conceded, laughing. "I really do think he only means to be friendly – "
"My dear, if he gets any more friendly, the two of them will be dueling in the side garden!"
Barbara's eyes widened at the comment, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She found herself hoping she would just sink into the floor rather than think of some kind of response to Lynley's mother. "Lady Asherton, I – "
"It's Dorothy, my dear, remember? And I may have been under the weather recently, but I'm not stupid, and I know my son. It's not hard to see how he feels." Lady Asherton took pity on the younger woman, seeing the distress in her face. "I won't embarrass you further by asking how you feel. Now, I think I've had enough of this lovely party. Will you help me to my room?"
Barbara smiled at her and nodded, although her face was still a brilliant pink. "Of course, Dorothy. I'd be happy to do that."
The two women escaped the party, and made their way slowly through the old manor house. At her bedroom door, Lady Asherton paused and turned back to look at her companion. "I'm just very glad Tommy has you in his life. You really are like one of the family to us, you know."
The door closed softly before Barbara could react, and she stood there for a minute, staring at the closed door, thoughts swirling in her brain, and completely unsure of her next move.
"Barbara? You all right? I came to check on you…" Lynley's voice was tentative, and it trailed off, seeing her body tense in response to his words. "…and mother." She finally turned to look at him, although it seemed to take an eternity, and the tension in her face was easy to see.
"She's fine, just tired, I think. The party wore her out. I'm tired as well. I suppose I'll turn in early, get a good night's sleep." She didn't wait for an answer, just turned and began to walk away.
"Pleasant dreams," Tommy called after her. He watched her for a moment before returning to the party. For Judith's sake, he told himself, even though he was hardly in a mood to celebrate. Nothing could ever be easy with Barbara Havers, he supposed. Every battle would be hard fought, but the war was worth winning.
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The next morning, Barbara stood in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes bleary, hair dripping wet, feeling miserable and sorry for herself. She had not slept well, in spite of turning in so early, tossing and turning until well after midnight, wrestling with too many conflicting emotions. Even after she fell asleep, her dreams would not let Tommy go, and his dark eyes and warm lips invaded her sleep throughout the night. Even her morning shower had not made her feel any better.
As she dragged a comb through her hair, she decided to return to London early. She would get a train, get back to her own bed in her own flat, without any Lynleys there to torment her, asleep or awake. The whole lot of them were driving her to distraction, and the sooner she was rid of them, the better.
She finished dressing, took a deep breath, and braced herself for breakfast and the possibility they would gang up on her there. She felt as though they were traveling in packs, waiting to pounce on her with their polite but lethal assaults on her emotions. Well-meaning but deadly, for sure. She paused before the dining room doors, arming herself as best she could before she pushed them open to face, well, nothing.
Not nothing exactly. Only Peter Lynley, who looked up from his breakfast long enough to give her a half smile and a nod before he returned to whatever was so fascinating on his mobile. So, easy enough. A silent younger brother she could handle. Coffee, fresh fruit, toast, and she couldn't resist a bit of bacon. Perhaps there were some advantages to being a toff, after all.
She managed most of her meal and a cup and a half of coffee before Richard Bartram arrived, looking cheerful in that way only dedicated morning people can at breakfast. He chattered away at her, loading up his plate with a full English, alternating between talking and eating, and luckily not requiring much in the way of a response from her. She indulged in another cup of the coffee – trust Lynley to have delicious coffee even at his bloody country estate – and answered mainly in monosyllables until she mentioned she was planning on traveling back to London on the train.
"Perfect! I'm driving back to London today myself, so I'll drive you. No arguments, I insist," Bartram said, and she had to admit, it did sound better than hours on the train.
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Lynley said goodbye to John Penellin and proceeded to the dining room, feeling the need for some coffee and food. He had to admit, he wasn't as young as he used to be. Once upon a time, he could do a late night followed by an early morning – including quite a few all-nighters in his Oxford days – but these days, he paid the price.
He had stayed up quite late last night, although he would never admit his motive was to ensure that Richard Bartram went to bed in his own damn room, not someone else's. And this morning, it was an early start to go over a few things with the estate manager…more coffee, that was the ticket, some caffeine to get through the day.
He poured himself a cup, put some food on his plate and sat down, looking around the dining room. At least he hadn't had too much to drink last night on top of everything else. Judith looked like death warmed over, even though it was now past 11 in the morning, and David was only slightly better, so it could have been much worse than mere lack of sleep.
"Don't think so loud, Tommy," Judith groaned.
Lady Asherton laughed, and Tommy had to smile at his sister. "I should have had you up at the crack of dawn to tour the estate with me, Judith!"
"You had better remember this lesson for the hen party, my dear," Dorothy said, laughing, getting a grimace from her daughter for an answer.
"Where's Barbara?" Tommy asked, and watched his mother's smile fade.
"She left you a note. I think she felt you had your hands full, and she didn't want to be in the way, so she left for London this morning." A gesture from Lady Asherton, and the note appeared on a silver tray, addressed to him in that oh-so-familiar scrawl.
Sir,
Thanks for the lovely weekend. You've obviously got a lot on your plate, and I don't want to intrude on your family time, so I've gone back to London early. I'll see you back in the office when you return,
Barbara
He tossed the note aside, and looked at his watch. "She caught the train?" It was more a statement than a question, but there was no immediate response, so he looked up. His mother's face first. Sympathetic expression, worried eyes. He glanced at his sister next.
"She planned to take the train, but Richard was traveling back to London today, so he's giving her a lift," Judith explained. "They left about an hour ago."
"Right, well, at least she doesn't have to mess with the train." He drained his coffee cup, and stabbed at the last bits of food on his plate. "I'll be in the stables if anyone needs me."
Two hours later, he was exhausted, and the stallion was lathered after a vigorous workout. He walked the horse until he cooled down, groomed him and put him back in his stall before returning slowly to the house. The ride had helped a bit, but he was still in a state, and had no idea what to do next. He had hoped to slip into the house unnoticed, using a back entry, but his mother was there anyway.
"Tommy." The way she said it, his name was a question, a caution and an accusation all in one, as only a mother could manage.
"I'm fine, Mother," he told her, his teeth grinding a bit over the words. She tilted her head, not buying it for a minute.
"Go after her, Tommy. Talk to her. However it ends, you can't leave it like this."
He paused for a long time, poised for an argument, body tense, eyes stormy. Then, slowly, it all drained away from him. If their relationship had been different, he might have leaned in, kissed her cheek, smiled, but as it was, he nodded, somewhat curtly, and walked quickly past her down the hallway. If he saw her smile, or heard her whisper of 'good luck,' he never would have admitted it, nor would he have confessed to the slight upward twitch of his lips as he bounded up the stairs.
Twenty minutes later, he was showered, changed, packed, loaded into the Bristol, and headed through the gates of Howenstow, on his way to London.
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The sun had set by the time he pulled into a parking space across from Barbara's flat. Tommy switched the engine off, and sat there in the semi-darkness, half in the shadows, and half in the glow of the streetlights and the warm amber light cast by the banks of windows in the block of flats she lived in. He still had no idea what he would say to her, even though he had been thinking about it for the entire drive from Cornwall.
As he sat there, her door opened, and she stepped out with Richard Bartram. They spoke for a moment, and Bartram reached out to grasp her upper arm, then leaned in and kissed her cheek before he turned to leave. Tommy's body was perfectly still as he watched the scene before him, but inside, he was seething with rage.
Bartram walked to his car, waved and drove off. She stayed on the front step of her flat, watching until he was out of sight, and next, somehow, she was at the Bristol, opening the car door.
"You'd better come in, don't you think?" She stepped back, giving him room to unfold his long legs from the car, her arms crossed in front of her, face giving nothing away.
Once inside her flat, she poured them both drinks, wordlessly handing him a glass. A small part of him stayed detached from the situation, analyzing the vanilla notes in the golden liquid as he searched for courage in the tumbler full of whisky. Glenmorangie, he recognized, the 10-year, his usual in a pub that didn't offer a wide selection of single malts.
She must have bought it to have when he came over, as she didn't normally drink whisky herself, he thought, before he realized she could have bought it for anyone. She could have bought it tonight for Bartram, on the way home. You're an arrogant fool, Lynley! They should have been three hours ahead of him, at least…where had they been, what had they done… His heart was pounding, reacting to fear and jealousy in equal portions.
He forced himself to look up at her as she sat on the other end of the sofa. Her flat suddenly seemed impossibly small. After working together so closely, for so long, he could see her brain working; observing him, analyzing his expressions, judging him, reading him. He felt very naked and exposed, and suddenly had a small measure of empathy for the suspects she questioned.
The silence was painful, dragging on forever until she finally broke it. "What are you doing here, sir?"
He leaned forward, setting his drink down on the coffee table and dragging his fingers through his hair before looking back at her to answer. "You left, and I couldn't bear it." No change in her expression. Of course not. It wasn't enough, and he knew it. "You left with him, and I really couldn't bear it." He drained his glass. "We kissed, and you pulled away, said we had to pretend it never happened, and that was also unbearable."
She looked away, her head down and her body hunched in on itself as she stared into her glass, so he knew he had reached her. He just wasn't sure how, or what it meant. He longed to touch her, ached for it, and knew he shouldn't, which made the longing worse, much worse.
"Do you know when I first fell in love with you?" he asked. Her body retreated even further, but there was no stopping now. "When Garrett was holding you hostage in that damned pub, and I couldn't get to you…Then, when we got inside, and you were there, alive, and I got my arms around you…"
His voice trailed off. He couldn't see her face, for her hair had fallen forward around her, but her whole body was shaking, quivering all over. "Barbara?" It was all there, in the way he said her name, love and hope and anguish and fear.
She raised her head, green eyes spilling over with tears. "Damn you, Lynley! I was doing fine at first, but now – "
His hand went to her face, cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking under her jawline. He still wasn't sure if he should have touched her, how it would go, and he realized he was holding his breath, but next her body relaxed and her lips came toward his and he knew it would be all right.
Her mouth was on his, so sweet, softly at first, and then more demanding, her hands in his hair, tilting his head for better access, mouths opening, tongues seeking. She ended up across his lap, straddling him, pressing herself against him as his hands sought out the bare skin of her back underneath her jumper, stroking her.
Their breathing grew ragged and their lips finally separated. Tommy reached out to hold her face and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. He smiled. "You can't expect me to forget that, you know."
She laughed and sighed at the same time. "I should have known it was a lost cause after the first one, actually. And then you had to go and tell me when you fell in love with me. And of course it had to be the same moment I fell in love with you. Hopeless."
She leaned forward, pressing her cheek against his, her lips by his ear. "Take me to bed, Tommy," she whispered. "Now."
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I hope you all enjoyed that – thanks for sticking with me through all of this! I am planning a short epilogue chapter to follow, so I'm not marking this complete just yet. I've also thought of writing a separate, but related one off that would describe the M rated activity to follow – not sure if I can (blushes) or if there is interest?