FIVE
Clover
Shoving yet another slice of pizza into my mouth while music played in the background was familiar and comforting. It had been a few months since I had been to stay with Zoe at her small cottage located between my former home and Dominic’s apartment.
It would be my eighteenth birthday in a couple of weeks and although I had rejected a party, Dominic had agreed to some friends coming over to celebrate with me. He had a concert that night so would be home late but had stressed the fact that he would be home several times. He had tried to coerce Zoe to come and stay over that weekend, but she had point blank refused, not because she didn’t want to visit, but because she wasn’t going to cramp my style, although I wasn’t entirely sure I had any particular style to cramp.
Zoe was heading for the fridge to grab some ice-cream which was our planned dessert when her phone rang. It became clear quite quickly that there was something wrong.
“No, I can be there tonight. Yes, okay, send me the details.” She hung up and turned to me. “Sorry, but I need to cut the weekend short. Family crisis.” She didn’t expand which I took to mean that she didn’t want to talk about it. “We’ll do it again in a few weeks, okay? And the whole weekend instead of Friday night to Saturday evening.”
I nodded and closed the pizza box.
“Bring that with you. No point it going to waste. We can call Dominic on the way.”
I shook my head. “No need. If he is out there’s no point spoiling his night and you know how he is, he will come home.” I rolled my eyes and we both laughed knowing that to be the truth. “And if he’s at home, he’ll know soon enough.”
“Meaning you don’t want to share the left-over pizza.”
Grabbing the smaller box, I replied, “Nor the garlic bread. I hope everything and everyone is okay, Zoe.”
Pulling me in for a hug, she landed a kiss to the top of my head. “They will be, so, don’t worry.”
Zoe had offeredto escort me in, but she didn’t need to. This place was as safe and secure as anywhere I had ever been. The concierge looked like a marine and I didn’t doubt had secured his job for that reason. He greeted me and watched as I pressed my thumb onto the security panel next to the lift. Once inside, I peered into the retina scanner and entered my unique code before the doors closed. At what point had this become natural? The first time I had come here, the security had scared me; what was there to be so scared of that you needed your eyes and fingerprints scanned to even activate a lift? As I had become accustomed to my surroundings, I had realised that this blockhad actors, singers, diplomats and generally rich people living in it, so maybe they did need this level of security.
Entering the apartment was even more familiar to me, familiar in a way I never expected it to become, but this was home. I smiled at the warmth that spread through me to have a place that was truly my home. Somewhere I belonged again. When had that happened? When had this place become a home in every sense? Thoughts of whether it was the place or the people that made a home came to mind. Perhaps it was a combination of the two, people and place, or in this instant, person and place. Looking around in the semi-darkness I noticed the bottle of wine, half full, and used glasses, as in two. Shit! Maybe I should have allowed Zoe to phone ahead. I ignored the green mist and the ache in my heart. Perhaps it was a friend, no more. They may have met here and now they were out, yes, that was it. Dominic would simply be surprised to see me here in the morning and we could have breakfast while I explained about Zoe’s emergency.
With my pizza and garlic bread still in their boxes under my arm, I grabbed a can from the fridge and headed for my room where I would start on a new season of the boxset I was working through.
At some point I must have fallen asleep because as I made my way through the haze of awakening, I heard noise. A voice, or was it a remnant of a dream I didn’t recall? I checked the time that showed it was less than an hour since I’d returned home, and the half-eaten pizza remained on the bed while another episode of my TV show played. Sitting up, I attempted to hit pause on the show then heard a voice again, a woman’s voice and there was no doubt that it was very much in the present and nothing to do with a dream. The obvious sounds of sexual pleasure picked up pace and volume. I covered my ears and then buried my head beneath the pillow in an attempt to drownthem out, futile attempts, I should add. I did not need to hear any of this, ever. Reason reminded me that while I lived here, it would be unreasonable to expect Dominic to not engage in sexual relationships, and in total fairness, this was the first time this had happened, and he didn’t know I had returned home. This was his home and he was a man with needs to be sated, but the sound of her calling out, chanting his name before a series of undecipherable cries confirmed she had reached her climax drove me crazy and left me jealous, sad and crying, wishing it were me calling his name from his bed.
The sounds continued, hers again, before I heard Dominic. Sounds I hadn’t heard before, although there had been hints of the growls and moans he might make on the two occasions we had touched and kissed. Tears ran down my face. Pain and sorrow overflowed not only because I realised that when I had imagined hearing those sounds, I didn’t expect it to be through a wall or a closed door, but for them to be vibrating against my ear, my throat or chest, possibly even my inner thighs. For the first time in many months, I was reminded that I did not belong here. I lived here but it wasn’t truly my home. Living here had never been Dominic’s wish or demand. My residence here was a byproduct of my father’s death and his friend’s loyalty to him. He had made it clear during that fateful day in the kitchen that I was here to be taken care of until I reached adulthood and then, well, presumably I would go into the big, wide world alone because that is what I was, alone. An orphan. A lost soul with nothing and no one to fall back on. I would be my own back-up plan because my mother had died, leaving me with my father who had become my whole world, and without him . . .
A single word fell from lips, a sob that caught in my throat, “Daddy.” I could barely see through the sea of tears that clouded my sight but in that very second, I decided I would not endure any more of this, especially not when one of Dominic’s rules wasthat I could not be in the apartment alone with a boy. That he or his housekeeper would need to be here if there was a boy visiting and I had honoured that request, demand, whichever it was. I knew it was the latter.
I charged into the kitchen, banging doors and switching lights on until I stood in the main living area next to the piano. I wanted him to hurt like I did, but at the same time, I wanted to protect him. What was the matter with me? I considered hitting the piano with something or throwing something over it and there was still a half bottle of red wine nearby. Reaching for it, I noticed a bra strewn across the back of the sofa while shoes lay nearby. A handbag sat atop the piano. How fucking dare she! This was Dominic’s prized possession and nobody ever put anything on top of it. Clearly she didn’t know him very well, did she? Did he know it was there? Had he actually allowed her to put it there?
Lifting the keylid, I pressed a couple of keys on the piano before slamming the keylid firmly and was greeted by the utterance of my name.
Looking up, Dominic stared at me, his glance moving between my face that would undoubtedly be a catastrophic combination of fresh tears, snot, and a face bearing the streaks of dried tears and the bottle of wine in my hand that was precariously close to his precious piano.
“Clover,” he repeated, and it was at that second utterance that I noticed he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and nothing else.
The realisation that he had a tattoo startled me, the lines and swirls of dark ink that adorned his chest, shoulder and upper arm held me captive. Why hadn’t I known about that? I resented that others, others who he slept with would be more than familiar with it. I was transfixed.
“Why are you here?” he asked and my eyes returned to his face but no words left my mouth as I noticed hisfriendcome into view.
I recognised her as being someone I had seen at a couple of concerts. Was she a regular hook-up I wondered. She came to a standstill next to him and viewed me with a little caution, then something else. Pity perhaps. How dare she.
“Clover.” My name spoken for the third time. “Why are you here?” He repeated but continued without waiting for a response this time. “Where is Zoe?”
“She had an emergency, some family thing.”
He looked angry, but I wouldn’t have him take this out on Zoe.
“She wanted to call. I told her there was no need. I am capable of letting myself in and I am an adult you know.” I sounded petulant and very immature.
The blonde woman to Dominic’s side, dressed in a very short black dress, her hair and make-up dishevelled . . . I didn’t dwell on that as she spoke, albeit under her breath. “Yeah, looks like it.”
