She stomped towards the bar feeling supremely irritated by his stance on the whole issue. Christ, he was making himself out to be some sort of moral paragon of virtue, a million miles away from the Frank Burnside she knew, the Frank Burnside she was still in love with. All right, so perhaps the difficult questions needed a bit more time to be considered, but what would be wrong with just giving in to what they both clearly wanted and having sex? It wouldn't change anything, would it? As she stood at the bar, waiting to be served, she realised that, in reality, it would change everything. If she decided to walk away from him, if she decided they should just be friends, being intimate would only make it all the more difficult to disentangle from him, and whilst part of her was screaming that she did want to be with him, and that only being friends long term just wasn't an option, another part of her, calmly and quietly, was reminding her that she had no idea how she was going to feel once Stewart's case came to trial.
"Hello." A voice broke into her thoughts, and she turned to see a tall, blonde-haired man standing a few steps behind her. "I've not seen you in here before."
"No, first time."
"I'm Dan."
"Chris."
"Christine? Christabel…?"
"Christina."
"Nice." His eyes slid over her body, and she felt herself shift uncomfortably. "Here by yourself?"
"No, my friend's waiting on the beach." She moved forwards and ordered the drinks, hoping that he would get the message that she wasn't interested.
"Male friend or female friend?"
She paused, wondering if she should lie and lead him on a bit for her own amusement then quickly realised that it really wasn't her style. "Male."
"Oh…poof?"
She let out a laugh before she could stop herself, imagining Frank's face if anyone considered even suggesting he was that way inclined. "No, definitely not a poof."
"Shame."
"Mmm…" she paid the girl behind the bar and lifted the drinks. "Nice to have met you."
"See you around," he called after her as she made her way back across the sand to where Frank was waiting, and she couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face at the content of the very brief conversation.
"Someone looks pleased with themselves," he commented, as she handed over his pint.
"I just got chatted up in the bar. At least, I think I did."
"Oh, it's all coming out now. Men in clubs, men in bars…" he lowered his sunglasses to look at her. "What did he say? Assuming it was a he of course."
"He just asked if I was here with a friend and when I said I was, and that said friend was male…well…he asked if you were a poof."
His brow furrowed, "I hope you disavowed him of such notions."
"Oh yes, I made it clear that you were all man." She laughed and sat back down on the lounger. "It was funny though. What a notion."
"You're speaking to me then. I thought I was going to be treated to a wall of silence after you flounced off."
His words brought her back to a sense of reality. "I didn't flounce. I just…" she paused and then decided to lay her cards on the table. "You're right, I don't know how I feel about us long term, how I really feel. I don't know how Stewart's trial, if it is a trial, is going to affect me. All I do know is, right now, I want to have sex with you and, quite frankly, I'm not ashamed to admit it."
"Well at least we're on the same page. I want to have sex with you too."
"Ok, good. But I suppose that would just complicate things?" she laid the trail, wondering if he would pick it up.
"Yeah, it would." He paused. "I'd like to think that you know me by now, Chris. I'm not just what you see upfront. I've got a heart; I've got feelings and I love you. If you decide, really decide, that you don't want us to be together, and I mean genuinely and honestly, not some ridiculous lie like you made up before, then I'll have to live with that. It won't be easy, but I'll get through it, and it'll be a hell of a lot easier to get through the longer we haven't slept together. Do you get what I mean?"
She nodded, "Yes, I get that."
"Good. Doesn't mean I don't fantasise about you or that I didn't lie awake in bed last night thinking about how close you were to me, or about how easy it would be for us to spend the rest of this weekend in bed. You shouldn't have needed to ask me if putting that sun cream on your back did anything for me, you should have known that it did." He paused. "The last six months have been a rollercoaster and you know that as well as I do, but we both need to protect ourselves."
"Ok," she said, feeling her eyes prick with unwelcome tears. "I understand all that, and you're right."
"I'm always right," he reminded her, sliding his glasses back on. "Don't forget that darling."
Sipping her drink, she lay back and looked up at the clear blue sky above them, thinking on his words and recognising the sense in them. Perhaps she had been too cavalier with how he felt. Perhaps she had just assumed that, for him, the physical and emotional could be separated and that his physical desire for her would win out over everything else. Perhaps it had been foolhardy to think they could ever be intimate without it meaning more.
There was a lot of thinking to be done.
XXXX
As confidently as he had come across to her in his quest for holiday celibacy, it was a difficult stance to maintain. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted her. The longer she was in such close proximity to him, the harder it became to stop himself from reaching out and touching her, an action he knew could only ever lead one way. But what he had said to her had been the truth. If they permanently parted, it would hurt like hell, but it would hurt a lot more if, in the immediately preceding moments, they had been regularly making love and he knew that if they went down that road, it certainly wouldn't, couldn't, be a one-off thing.
The rest of the day at the beach had passed amiably and they had returned to the villa with the idea of going out to a local restaurant for dinner. He hoped that the remainder of the trip could stay casual, away from the deep conversations that would eventually need to be had once she had worked things out in her mind, but as they made the short journey there, he could already sense tension in her body, and she fidgeted at the table as they looked at the menus and ordered.
"What's wrong?" he asked eventually.
"Nothing," she replied.
"Something's wrong."
"I've just been doing a lot of thinking, as you suggested I should."
"Well, that's good."
"I know you said that we shouldn't talk about things…"
He felt his stomach clench with anxiety.
"…but if you're wanting me to make all the decisions here, then there's certain things I suppose we do need to talk about."
"Like what?"
She played with the stem of her wineglass. "Do you regret getting involved with me? If you could go back to that night in your office…would you change what happened between us?"
He waited until she chanced to lift her gaze from the table to meet his own. "No."
She held his gaze, "I wouldn't either."
His loins stirred almost uncontrollably, and he shifted in his seat. "There's a few things I do regret though."
"Like what?"
"I regret pressuring you to leave Stewart when you weren't ready. I should have stepped back; let you do what was right for you and then take it from there. I regret not doing something more about him when he started drinking. I regret listening to you and not nicking him for what happened in the pub and in your house. Maybe if I'd just done it, regardless of what you wanted, he would never have stabbed you."
"We don't know that…"
"No, but you did ask. And I regret not seeing how badly affected you were by what happened. Everything you said in Brighton…I should have realised that things weren't right in your head. I should have helped you, rather than treat you the way I did, and I regret what happened with Whelan…" he shook his head, the sum total of all his failures seeming even greater than he had thought. "When I say it all aloud like that, I wouldn't blame you if you decided I wasn't the bloke for you after all."
"Come on…" she chided him. "If you've got regrets then I certainly do too. I regret not making a decision sooner and allowing Stewart to carry on the way he did. I regret not letting you nick him. I regret being stupid enough to go to the house that day…" she paused. "I regret what I said in Brighton more than you'll ever know even if I thought, at the time, it was the only way forwards. I regret not getting counselling a long time ago, maybe back after what happened at Patterson's club." She shook her head. "We make a right pair, you and I."
He opened his mouth to respond, when a shadow suddenly fell across the table and, looking up, he came face to face with a blonde-haired man, his smile fixed firmly on Christina.
"Hello again," the man said. "Christina, wasn't it?"
"Oh…ummm…yeah," she replied, her gaze flitting between them. "It was…Dan?"
"That's right, good of you to remember." He shifted his gaze. "This must be your non-poof friend, then."
"Uh…yeah, this is…uh…Frank."
"Nice to meet you Frank," Dan said, turning back to her before he could even utter a word. "You rushed off pretty sharpish earlier. I never even got to ask you where you were staying and how long for."
"Oh, we're in a villa up the road, just until Monday."
"Nice…I'm in a hotel down by the beach. There's a party later on; you fancy coming along?"
"Ummm…."
Her polite nature was starting to irk him even more than the forward nature of the twat standing at the table, and he couldn't help but think it was time he laid claim to what was his. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude pal, but we're trying to have a private conversation here."
Dan swivelled his gaze back. "Now, why do people say that they don't mean to be rude when they really do? You don't mind if I talk to your friend here now, Frank, do you?"
"I do, actually. We're having a private dinner here, so why don't you just piss off?"
"Frank…"
"Oh, I see…" Dan looked between them. "Friends like that is it? Well, whatever floats your boat I suppose." He turned back to Christina. "It's down at the Pineapple Bar; starts around 10pm."
"Oh, thanks for the invite but…"
"It'll be a good night, drinks on tap, dancing…"
"Didn't you hear her the first time?" Frank got to his feet. "She's not interested."
"All right, steady on Dad," Dan chuckled. "You can't blame a bloke for trying. She's pretty hot stuff your friend, especially in that little bikini she was wearing earlier. I like a bit of tits and arse…total wank material, know what I mean?"
A rest mist started to descend and, before he could stop himself, he reached forward and grabbed Dan by his shirt. He heard Christina shout at him to stop, the murmurs of other diners as they watched the scene unfold, and one of the waiting staff babbling in high-pitched Spanish. Dan fought against him, pulling his hand away and stepping back.
"What the fuck's your problem?" he demanded.
"You're my problem," Frank replied. "Now piss off before I nick you, you dickhead!"
"Fucking lunatic!" Dan glanced between them and then stormed off.
There was a momentary silence as everyone took stock of what had taken place. He sat back down as the waiter began fussing around, replacing cutlery that had fallen from the table, and when he met the gaze of another couple a few tables away, he glared at them. "You got something to say?"
"Was any of that really necessary?" Christina asked quietly.
"He was a creep."
"Yeah, he was but I was dealing with it."
"How? By going 'oh…ummm…oh…?' You should have just told him to sling his hook."
"I think you did that for me. Though I'm not sure threatening to nick him was entirely wise. Know much about the Spanish judicial system, do you?"
"Did you hear what he said about you? Wank material…"
"Like you've never thought it about a woman you saw in a bikini. It doesn't mean you have to go off the deep end."
Feeling slightly cowed, he shook his head, "All right, point taken."
She took a sip of her wine. "Having said that, I don't know if romantic is the right word but…"
"I told you once before, it's in a man's nature to protect a woman."
"From bad chat up lines?"
"Yeah well…" he bit his tongue, well aware that he was on the brink of reminding her that she was 'his' even though it hadn't gone down that well previously, not to mention judging by the current status of their relationship, she was nothing of the kind.
"Maybe we should go to the party at the Pineapple Bar just to annoy him,"
She grinned playfully at him, and he found himself smiling back, "Yeah, let's not."
XXXX
The remainder of the meal progressed without incident and the conversation turned to work and more generalities, the topic of their own relationship placed firmly on the back burner, though she couldn't help but feel a warmth in her belly when her mind wandered back to what had transpired earlier. Not for a minute that she had wanted him to get involved in any kind of physical altercation, but the fact that he had reacted so badly to Dan's poor attempt at flirting with her only served to boost her ego and make her feel more drawn towards making a decision that firmly implanted him in her life.
After consuming her share of a bottle and a half of wine, she felt pleasantly tipsy, not as to do anything foolhardy or reckless, but enough to find even the most innocuous thing hilarious and the landscape heading back in the direction of the villa to intermittently tilt and grow fuzzy.
"You're a disgrace," Frank said good-naturedly as they made their way along the tree-lined path. "I hope I don't end up having to carry you. Better still, I hope you don't end up puking your guts out."
"I'm not that drunk," she replied. "Not as much as I was that time in the pub anyway."
"Which time?"
"The time you had to take me home."
"Oh yeah, how could I forget? Stewart thought I'd brought you home to have my way with you."
She looked at him curiously. "Did you want to? If I hadn't been almost incapable of standing and smelling of vomit, I mean."
"Yeah, I did. I reckon if you'd been a little less drunk, and he hadn't been at home…" he trailed off, "but that presupposes that you would have wanted it too at that time."
"I did. The only reason I got so pissed was because I was jealous you'd brought Fiona to the pub." She paused. "I don't think I've ever told you that before."
"No, you haven't. Anyway, I told you before, you've nothing to be jealous about when it comes to Fiona."
"A convenient hole, is she?" she clapped her hand over her mouth as the words left her lips. "Shit, sorry. That was a pretty awful thing for one woman to say about another. Jesus, maybe I'm more drunk than I think."
"Well, I'm glad you said it and not me," he laughed. "She's a decent girl. She deserves better than a bloke visiting her for sex when he's thinking about someone else."
"She'll be pissed I got her trip to Spain then."
"Yeah, doubt she'll ever speak to me again. If you do decide that we don't belong together, I reckon I'll have to look elsewhere for comfort."
"I doubt you'll have much bother. That little black book of yours must be stuffed to the gunnels."
"You'd be surprised," he replied, a wistful note in his voice and she was just about to ask him to elaborate, when the sound of voices came from up ahead and three figures appeared in front of them on the dark path.
It was nothing in and of itself to cause a concern. It was eleven o'clock on a Friday night in Spain and the area around the restaurant had been busy with other people. But the path that led back to the villa diverted away from the main road and the denseness of the trees made it seem darker than it really was. Had she been on her own, she might have momentarily panicked, but she was with Frank, and, in all likelihood, it was simply other holiday makers. As the people grew closer, however, she felt a sudden chill wash over her as she saw that it was three men, one of whom was familiar.
"Well, well, well…" Dan said, as the group approached them. "If it isn't the lovely Christina and her friend Frank. Not coming to the Pineapple Bar for the party then?"
"No, not tonight," she replied with as much faux cheerfulness as she could muster, willing Frank to stay silent. "Getting too old for that sort of thing."
"Him maybe, but not you surely."
"You'd be surprised," she moved to the side of the path, hoping to be able to walk past them without incident, but the path was narrow and the three of them fanned out, Dan in front of her, his friends in front of Frank.
"You got a problem?" Frank said, eyeballing one of the others.
"Not really," he replied. "You?"
"Come on, let's go." She reached for Frank's hand, only for Dan to step in between them, effectively forcing her to move further towards the treeline, separating them. "Listen, we don't want any trouble, yeah?"
"You should keep better company," Dan replied, looking her up and down. "Shouldn't let your dad ruin your night. I reckon you'd have fun at the party with me."
"It's been a long day and we're pretty tired…" She stepped to the side in order to better see what was going on over Dan's shoulder, only to see the other two pressing closer into Frank, a conversation taking place that she couldn't hear but which didn't look to be particularly friendly. "Look, what happened at the restaurant was a mistake, ok? Just some cross wires, that's all."
"Is he a copper, your mate?"
"Yeah, we both are."
His eyes widened and he let out a low whistle. "Sexy…"
"Hardly." She made to move around him, but he stepped in front of her again. "Look, what do you want?"
"You to come to the party with us. Me and my mates, we're actually pretty decent blokes once you get to know us."
"Yeah? You're not really giving that impression right now. Can you just get out of our way and let us pass please?"
"Ooh…I take it back. Very sexy…I bet when you get going, you're wild…" He reached out and ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. "Tell me, does the collar match the cuffs? I'd love to find out…"
The next few moments were like a blur. Dan lunged for her and suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a cacophony of shouting, followed by pushing and shoving. She felt herself fall to the ground, only to be wrestled back to her feet in time to see Frank floored by a punch from one of Dan's friends. She heard herself screaming at him to stop and physically trying to get to him, only to find she was being held back by someone far stronger than she was and despite every self defence training course she had undertaken in her career, the combination of alcohol and lack of bodily power rendered her useless to do anything other than watch as Dan's friends piled on top of Frank. He was doing his best to try and defend himself but sickening crack after sickening crack pierced the air as the two younger men got the better of him. Finally, she felt herself being flung to the side, only to see Dan aim a well-timed kick into Frank's ribs before the three of them hightailed it at speed back down the path.
"Frank…oh Jesus…" she pulled herself to her feet and stumbled over to where he was lying on the ground. "Oh shit…Frank…Frank, are you all right? Frank!" His hands and face were bloodied, one eye already looking as though it was going to swell, and he winced when she touched him. "Can you sit up? Oh my God…"
"I'm all right…" he said, in a voice that suggested he was anything but. "I'm…I'm all right."
"Oh God…" she looked wildly down the path, both desperate for help and also fearful in case the attackers returned.
"Just…just help me up." With great effort he rolled over onto his knees and then, with her help, managed to push himself up, sagging against her in the process and almost causing her to topple over. "Are you all right?"
It seemed like such a ludicrous question. "I'm fine."
"How far away are we?"
"Not far, a few more minutes' walk. Can you manage? Jesus, maybe I should find a phone and call an ambulance…"
"No, just get me back to the villa. I'll be fine."
With great effort, she managed to lead him back along the remainder of the path and into the villa, whereupon he collapsed onto the couch, groaning in pain, and she ran into the kitchen in search of a cloth and ice. He flinched as she gently cleaned the blood from his face and then gave him an ice pack to hold against his cheek, all the time a thousand emotions coursing through her. Anger, fear, guilt…
"We should have just…we should have just walked away," she said, moving some cushions in an effort to make him more comfortable. "We should have…"
"They were blocking the path if you remember, and I think we both know what they were after." He shifted slightly and groaned in pain. "Fuck me…"
Without thinking, she reached over and started unbuttoning his shirt, pulling the sides away to reveal reddening around his stomach and chest. Pressing down gently caused him to yelp with pain and almost leap off the couch and she straightened up, her mind working overtime. "You need to get to a hospital."
"Don't be stupid. I'll be fine."
"Frank, you've probably cracked a couple of ribs and God knows what else! Your jaw could be broken, anything!"
"My jaw isn't broken."
"Well, your cheekbone then. That eye is already coming out. You could have internal bleeding…you need medical attention!" He said nothing. "I can't believe this has happened. All because…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence.
"Nearest hospital is about half an hour away in the centre of Benidorm."
"Fine. Come on, let's get you in the car and I'll drive us there."
"You can't."
"Of course I can! Driving here can't be that much different from driving at home, except it's the other side of the road."
"You've had a skinful."
"So, you're going to give me a lecture on drink driving now?"
"No, but I'd rather get there without sustaining any more injuries or you ending up in a Spanish jail." He shifted again and winced. "I'll be all right until morning, then you can drive me up there."
"I can…go to a neighbour, ask if someone can call us a taxi or something."
"No, they might still be out there. I don't want you wandering around on your own."
"I can handle myself."
"Oh yeah, why do I look like this then?"
"I didn't ask you to have a go at the guy in the restaurant, did I?" she snapped. "Maybe if you hadn't been such a prick about him talking to me, this wouldn't have happened!"
"Oh, so I'm supposed to just let any old arsehole crack onto you right in front of me then, am I?"
"No, but you could have dealt with it other than by grabbing the guy!"
"Well, I'll remember that next time we're down a dark alley and some tosser makes a move like he's going to assault you. Don't tell me you didn't think he would have raped you given half a chance."
"He could have raped me after his mates had knocked seven bells out of you, but he didn't!"
"Well, that's all right then!"
He let out another groan of pain and guilt immediately flooded through her. "I'm sorry," she said, sitting down next to him. "I didn't mean that. I'm glad that you were there, so glad but…this is the last thing I would ever have wanted."
"Yeah well, consider it compensation for me not being there the last time."
"The last time?"
"When you got stabbed. I'd have taken this and worse if it had prevented that. Maybe this goes some way towards making it up to you."
She felt a sudden rush of feeling and, before she could stop herself, reached over and kissed him gently. "You don't have anything to make up for, not as far as that's concerned." For a moment he held her gaze and then practicality took over. "Well, if you're not going to hospital tonight, we need to get you into bed and get you some painkillers. I've got paracetamol and ibuprofen with me."
"Right little pharmacy you are," he joked as she helped him to his feet and allowed him to lean on her all the way into his bedroom. "Reckon you'll have to undress me, Nurse Lewis."
"Well, it's nothing I haven't seen before." Gently she prised his shirt from his shoulders before unbuckling the belt on his trousers and pulling them down. "I'll leave your knickers on, to protect your modesty." Once he was in bed, she retrieved water and pills and waited while he took them. "Do you want anything else? Tea? Coffee?"
"No," he muttered, already looking as though he was about to fall asleep. "I'm fine."
"Ok." She waited, hovering by the door until she was certain that he had succumbed, comforted only by the rise and fall of his chest under the sheet. Changing quickly out of her own clothes, she came back through to switch off the light, only to feel a sudden desperate urge not to leave him. The bed was easily big enough for two and it wasn't as if, in his condition, anything would be likely to happen anyway. Sliding under the sheet next to him, she rolled onto her side and watched him until her own eyelids drooped and sleep claimed her.