‘I don’t want you doing all these things for me when I can’t repay the favour,’ she explained.
‘You’ve already repaid the favour.’ Cal cursed that his mouth was in drive before he’d considered where it was driving to. ‘You’re...’ He shuffled his feet and rethought his words. ‘It’s like this. I pay for the lodge and you… what is it you Americans say? You bring it.’
‘I bring it?’ Bea folded her arms. ‘That sounds all kinds of wrong, Cal.’
‘I didn’t mean it that way.’ He truly hadn’t. All he’dbeen trying to say was that she was so amazing that he wanted to do something in return. It wasn’t meant to sound sordid.
‘Well, what did you mean? Because to be honest, what you said makes me feel kind of cheap.’
‘Cheap? Oh, Bea, come on. How could anyone think thatyouare cheap? You’re the most exquisite woman I’ve met in…’ He didn’t finish his sentence. She was the most exquisite woman he had ever met, but he couldn’t say that out loud, could he? It sounded too intense.
‘You have no idea, Cal.’
‘No idea about what? You’re right, I do have no idea. Please tell me, help me understand.’
Bea’s eyes flared. She shook her head and brushed past him and out of the room. Cal followed her out onto the veranda where she leaned on the rail and stared out to the loch. How he wanted to hold her and show her she was safe, but it seemed that Bea had words she needed to let breathe.
‘Bea? What is it?’ Cal spoke as tenderly as he could to encourage her to open up. ‘What have I no idea about?’
‘It’s not something you need concern yourself with.’ There was a brittleness to Bea’s voice but he knew it was from fear rather than wanting to drive him away.
‘I don’t think that’s true,’ he said. ‘Whatever’s upsetting you, it’s affecting things between us.’
‘Officially, there is no us,’ Bea countered.
Cal was more than aware of this and it was bothering him. But how could he word a response to her without sounding possessive, or like he had the two of them labelled as a collective. ‘Okay, well I know there’s strictly no us,’ he said. ‘But it’s affecting this trip, you having a nice time while we’re here. You won’t relax and let me pay for lunch or this place without being offended. Why?’
‘It’s hard to explain, Cal.’ Bea gripped the veranda rail.
‘I do understand that you want to pay your way,’ Cal said. ‘But there’s no need to feel cheap because I’m paying for somewhere nice that I chose. It would be a dick move to make you pay for that.’
Bea turned to him and he could see the glistening of incipient tears. Oh, how he wanted to wipe them away, but he knew that first he had to listen, because if she was upset there would be no pasting over things on his part. She deserved to be one hundred per cent happy.
‘I can’t help hating you paying for me,’ Bea said finally. ‘Because for the past five years all I’ve done is feel cheap – because that’s what one man did to me.’
Cal noticed Bea’s face change as she opened up to him. Those precious eyes filled now with tears instead of light, the sweet lips that laughed so readily were quivering. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to relive any trauma, but he also needed to understand, to be able to make this better.
‘I’m so sorry, Bea. Who was he? I’m presuming it’s a he.’
‘Yeah. My ex, J…’
‘It’s okay, you don’t need to say his name.’ Cal knew this might be difficult for her. For years, his mother referred to his biological father as ‘him’ or ‘he’. ‘But can I ask, did he…?’ Cal didn’t want to finish the sentence because it killed him to even suggest out loud that someone might have physically hurt Bea.
‘No, he didn’t.’ Bea answered Cal’s unfinished question. ‘Only slowly wore me down with five years of emotional control: of forcing me to stay home and not work, but then withholding money from me and making me beg him if I needed any. When you put up with that, after a while you believe it yourself.’
Cal’s head was spinning. It stung to hear about Bea going through what she’d described. He understood well that emotional abuse could be as harmful as physical. He’d been a young child when his biological father had done the same to his mother and he would forever wish that he’d done something to stop her pain, even though he’d only been a little boy. All he’d been able to do was try to comfort his mum with words. The same was true now.
‘I’m so sorry, Bea,’ Cal said. ‘The guy sounds like an absolute arse.’
‘He was.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking, what happened in the end? Did you leave him?’
Bea choked on a laugh and Cal narrowed his gaze. He was pretty sure this wasn’t funny and the laughter came from incredulousness or nerves.
‘Would you believe it, that he left me?’ she said, revealing the irony of the situation.
‘Well, no, I wouldn’t. What sort of muppet would leave you?’.
