“Even a gilded cage is still a cage.” Abby interjected, equally as defensive of her friend.
“I’m not discussing this further, Tasha, not here and not now.” Jim spoke with anger and threw in a cold stare in her direction to fully convey his determination to end this particular conversation at this time and in this place.
“I don't suppose now would be a good time to plan another night out then.” Philip laughed, genuinely hoping to lighten the mood and lift the tension, but failed miserably as Juan gave him a dig with his elbow.
Jim furiously muttered a single word to his son’s attempt at humour, “Really?”
All of that hung over them, weighing heavy in the air before Tasha excused herself from the table and rushed to the bathroom where she ended up huddled on the floor, crying and shaking, leaving a hive of activity and mutterings behind her.
“You see what you've done now?” Jim turned on Philip ready to fire accusations at him.
“It was a joke,” he protested.
“And yet nobody is laughing, Philip.” Jim was furious but the truth was he wasn’t entirely sure who his fury was with.
“I don't think I'm the one responsible for her running off to the bathroom,” said Philip bravely, but the truth was that he wasn’t going to be the scapegoat here. His words had been intended to break the ice and ease the tension you could cut through. It had been bad enough before he and Juan had taken a few days away, but it had intensified one hundred-fold by the time they’d returned. “You are killing her with kindness.” Philip realised his choice of words may have been insensitive but attempted to continue speaking to Jim who looked as though he was ready to explode one way or another when an obviously scared Lizzie spoke.
“Is Tasha okay?” Lizzie’s voice echoed with concern and worry.
“No, Lizzie, Tasha is far from okay.” Jim got to his feet but was unsure where to go or what to do for the best.
“Son, you need to let her breathe,” said Jack calmly as everyone else seemed to look at each other nervously.
“Breathe, Dad? That is precisely what I am ensuring she continues to do.” Jim glared at his dad, shocking everyone around them.
“Jimbo…” started Bobby.
“Not you, too? I thought you got this,” cried Jim before Abby intervened.
“Right, all of you sit down and shut up! Lizzie, Tasha is fine, or she would be if she could at least move from one room to another without an escort or an inquisition. She just needs to get her head around everything that has happened. It’s a lot for any of us to understand so imagine how hard it is for Tasha. Philip, I don't think she's quite ready for your jokes yet, soon I'm sure.” She smiled.
“I should see if she's okay,” said Jim, getting up again.
“No.” Abby stared up at him, a determined and dogged expression on her face. “You stay and I will go while you think about loosening the leash.” Once the last word was out she immediately regretted it. “I know you care and I know you want to keep her safe, Jim, but get smart with it, you're not thinking straight. You will drive her away. She’s young and terrified.” Abby turned to follow in the same direction as Tasha, not stopping until she reached the bathroom door where she tapped it gently.
Tasha sat on the floor, crying still but called, “What?”
“Tasha, it's me, Abby. Can I come in?”
“Yes,” she replied and as she saw Abby looking down at her she cried harder.
“Oh, Tasha, honey.” Abby joined her friend on the floor and with her arms wrapped around her she rocked her gently.
Maisie began to clear the table while everyone else sat looking awkward and uncomfortable until Bria broke the silence, “I'm sure she's a lovely girl in her own way, Jim, but she may not be wife material.”
A shocked silence replaced the earlier awkward one as everyone else stared across at her. Bria was undeterred and seemed almost oblivious to the shaky ground she was walking across.
“She's an actress and all of this drama is par for the course for her and she's foreign, but do you really think she will settle here? Look at her family, they're dysfunctional to say the least.” She suddenly noticed the daggers she was being subjected to from just about everyone now, yet still she wasn’t quite done. “She is emotionally unstable—I’m just saying,” she said in her own defence.
“Then don't,” snapped Jim. “She, Tasha, is perfect wife material as far as I am concerned, Bria, but the fact that she was almost murdered, you know, the drama, because of me has tipped her over the edge slightly. Actually, scratch that, me being totally absorbed by the fact that the person who wanted her dead is still at large has turned me into someone who will not allow Tasha to take a breath without me being there to oversee it and that is what has tipped her over the edge. And do you know what, Bria? I have no clue what to do or how to deal with the absolute fear that lies across my chest like a cancer that Mickie isn't done trying, and the overwhelming panic that if I leave her alone for a split second that is when Mickie will strike, to the extent that it is killing me to sit here with all of you knowing she is out of my sight. So please, just don't say anymore or I may say something we all regret.” Jim was almost relieved to admit the extent of his own fears.
“Right,” said Bobby, taking charge as he saw the looks of shock and concern on everyone's faces, especially the children. “Let's open up the garden. Lizzie, would you get some sodas sorted?” he asked as he ushered the kids out of the back of the house.
Lizzie nodded with a worried expression on her face that lifted slightly as Philip and Juan joined her.
Bobby continued, “Sophie and Bria you could help Mom clear away and Dad, could you get Tasha a very large brandy? You and I, little brother should go and find our women folk.”
Jim got to his feet and gratefully followed Bobby through the house.
