Tasha nodded.
“Yeah, they took a statement from me when you were in the hospital. You look tired, honey. Go and take a nap.”
“Jim, I’m fine. I don't need a nap, or a lie down or anything else other than a normal life.” Tasha attempted to leap to her feet but settled for more of a staggered hobble. “I want things to go back to normal. I want you to go to work, to stop standing over me and sending me to bed twenty times a day, alone,” she told a wide-eyed Jim who was looking up at her.
“Baby, I want to take care of you and I am out of my depth here because I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you and I almost did, didn't I? I thought I had, I really did.” Jim looked sad and desperate. “I don't do half measures, Tasha, you know that, so I can't just go back to normal and pretend like it never happened.”
“I understand that, Jim, but you can't keep me locked up here, living in sweatpants or pyjamas. If you need to keep me safe by employing security staff I understand that, even if I don't like it, but we need, I need, to go out. I need to see people and if you need to come with me to do that fine, but you need to go to work at some point. Maybe after my family have gone home you could go back, for a couple of days at least. I promise not to go out alone and when I’m here Sandra and Mike are usually around and Juan and Philip are across the drive. Sara and Abby are both eager to visit and I need to start looking at my schedule and work.”
She saw the look of total objection on his face and laughed.
“Not all of those things at once, but I’m going crazy here. I want something on my mind and swimming around in my head other than the idea of my own father taking money to kill me. Something that doesn’t involve Mickie hating me enough to conspire to remove me from your life permanently. I don’t even know how to process those thoughts. I know I’m not perfect, I have made mistakes in my life but I don’t consider myself a bad or evil person and yet the fact that this has happened because of other people’s deliberate actions forces me to question that.”
Pulling her closer to gently hold her, Jim said nothing. He tried to absorb her words and the thoughts that were awash in her mind and then, with nothing to say to remove those thoughts, knowing she needed to work through those ideas over time, he returned to her original suggestion for him going back to work.
“I wish I could make things better for you, honey. Look, I'll think about work and we’ll talk about it after your folks have gone home. But you do look tired.” He got to his feet, seemingly unwilling to concede his final point.
“I am going to get bed sores if I spend much more time in bed, James,” she cried as a final protest while Jim stood before her with grim determination on his face. “Fine. I will go for yet another lie down, but only if you come with me.”
“Deal,” he agreed victoriously and took her hand before he led her upstairs.
Chapter 5
It was a couple of weeks after her grandparents had returned to London before Tasha decided to broach the subject of Jim returning to work again. However, having had the day from hell she probably should have thought twice about broaching it at all.
If she was honest, her day from hell had been a week from hell. It had started with cross words between her and Jim. Tasha was becoming increasingly frustrated with his need to keep her close and to keep her at home, although she understood his reluctance, well, refusal to allow her out alone. However, when she’d suggested going down to the stables to ride he had vetoed that too. Even when she’d offered to take some security with her it had been a big fat no, unless Jim came too and the truth was that she wanted, needed a break from him. Just a small one. In the end she’d remained at the house or the pool and Jim had been within earshot if not sight at all times.
Tasha’s week was made worse by the fact that Philip and Juan had gone away for a few days meaning she had no friends nearby and with her family already at home she was beginning to feel increasingly isolated. Lizzie had been to stay for a couple of days but the truth was that Tasha wasn’t really in the mood to cope with a hormonal teenager who seemed particularly moody this week, nor did she have any desire to discuss whether she had heard things when unconscious, unlike Lizzie who seemed fascinated by it. Sandra was refusing to allow Tasha to so much as make a cup of tea, although she suspected that the other woman might be working under orders from Jim, and Mike was rarely around.
Physically, Tasha was healing and wasn’t as tired as she had been but was still overly aware of the impact the most mundane of activities had on her energy levels and her body in general. Tasha had never considered herself beautiful but knew she was attractive with a nice body shape that was in good condition, or at least it had been before her crash. Now her body bore the scars that told the story of her battle for life. She’d been surprised at the amount of scarring on her body when she’d first looked at it, but was getting used to it, kind of. Her greater concern was that Jim would have a problem with them. That they would make her less attractive to him and be a constant reminder of what had happened to her, something he felt guilty about, not that he had any need to, not in her mind, but he did. They were yet to become intimate again, having done no more than kiss, cuddle and hold hands and even those actions were gentle and loving rather than passionate and that too concerned her.
Emotionally, she was struggling a little more. Tasha was still finding it difficult to understand her father’s reasoning behind trying to kill her, although she was choosing to disbelieve that was the case. She instead chose to view his actions as being something that had gone wrong; yes he was trying to stop her from marrying Jim, but he couldn’t really want her dead, could he? Every time she went over it in her mind that was the question she kept coming back to. Why would he want her dead? She was his child and surely somewhere in his heart and soul that meant something to him, she meant something to him, didn’t she? When all was said and done she could serve no purpose dead, but then, currently, she was serving no purpose to him alive. Everything was jumbled in her head and a big mess. Then there was her mother who had sold story after story about her suffering following this incident and although legally there were topics she couldn’t discuss she managed to get around them and was clearly still cashing in on Tasha.
There was still a huge blank void about the time between getting back in her car and waking up in the hospital. The doctors had said this was quite normal and often happened as the brain could and would shut down memories of traumatic instances.
Some days, when Tasha tried to talk to Jim about everything in her head, she stopped short of opening up entirely as she knew he was suffering too and had struggled to come to terms with everything that had happened, including the weeks she couldn’t remember. That made her feel guilty so that when she opened conversation she quickly allowed it to dry to avoid hurting him further or forcing either of them to face their own feelings of guilt.
Then there were the nightmares that had started once she’d returned home and been off all medication. They were like nothing she’d experienced before. She had one most nights, some worse than others and this last week there had been some really bad ones. They varied from simply reliving the experience of waking up choking, to others that involved her father and Mickie chasing her and finding her over and over again, chasing her, hurting her and taking her away so that she would never see Jim again.
Last night’s was a new one, it still involved Mickie and her father capturing her and then rather than taking her away from Jim they took him from her. She’d experienced dreams where Jim had left her, chose Mickie over her, but this one was something different. They had done terrible things in her dream, hurt him and then eventually killed him, while she watched and then they’d laughed at her, Mickie had laughed at her and then her father had taken her home to Liam. The nightmare seemed to last for hours until she eventually woke up in a pool of her own sweat and tears, crying, sobbing and calling out to Jim who had simply pulled her to him. He’d held her as she cried, telling her that it wasokay, that it wasall overand that she wassafe.Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop thinking that it wasn’t over, couldn’t be until Mickie was found and judging by the state of heritwasn’t safe, although she did at least feel safe.
So, her bad day had really been a bad week meaning her decision to open up a conversation about Jim going back to work and life going back to normal couldn’t have been more badly timed than to it was over dinner at the vineyard, her first real trip out since being discharged from hospital.
“Are you planning on returning to work this week?” she asked bluntly, feeling brave in company.
“I have no plans one way or the other,” Jim replied, already looking slightly irritated.
“I’ll be fine.” She knew he was concerned about leaving her still. “Sandra will be around and security.” She was attempting to use their presence to her advantage but sighed, already tiring of their presence.
“And Abby has said she's happy to help out,” said Bobby supportively.
“I don't need a sitter.” Tasha pouted and rolled her eyes. “I'm not a child or an invalid,” she added more calmly.
“We'll see.” Jim dismissed the idea in two words.
“Will we? Or will you continue to keep me a prisoner?” She was ready to cry at the thought of being confined to the house and smothered by Jim for another week or more.
“A prisoner? That's a little dramatic, isn't it? Jim's house is as far removed from a prison as any place I've ever seen,” said Bria, leaping to her brother’s defence.
