Back to the Farm Ch. 08

"Liss..."

But this time, it was Melissa who couldn't meet his gaze, couldn't deal with the barely-restrained anger in his tone. "I need--I need to get cleaned up," she whispered, conscious of the copious amounts of ooze now pooling between her thighs, of the tell-tale tenderness there. And tightly wrapping her arms around herself in order to keep the bedspread from slipping, she turned and fled for the bathroom, only just managing to slam the door closed before collapsing into silent sobs, falling to her knees beside the bath.

Howcould she have been that stupid? she wondered, gathering herself enough to spin on the hot tap at last and dangling her trembling fingers in the flow while she waited for the water to run warm. Whatever had possessed her to succumb to his seduction? For seduce her he had, there was no doubt about that. But she'd actually believed he wanted her. Not just any woman, not just because she happened to be there, the only woman available at the time--but because he'd wanted her, Melissa Barton. The same way she'd always wantedhim.

"Fool," she whispered, swiping at her cheeks with her dry hand before frowning at the steady stream of water. Why wasn't it getting hot? "You bloody fool." And then she understood why it wasn't getting hot. The electricity had been off for hours; the immersion heater wouldn't have been working. Just as had happened before on that first momentous trip to the farm, she was going to have to bathe in cold water.

Melissa gazed miserably at the rapidly filling tub. Was it even possible for things to get any worse?

*

Matt's fingers flew over the page of the sketchpad, the familiar feel of the pencil in his hand reassuring, calming. The moment Lissy had disappeared into the bathroom, he'd found himself moving towards his briefcase as though on auto-pilot and had pulled out the most fundamental tools of his profession--a pencil, paper and a tape measure. He knew from experience that when he was working he didn't have to think, at least, not on an emotional level anyway.

So he'd opened the trap door in the ceiling of the hallway, pulled down the ladder and climbed up to take a look. Lissy had been right about the potential for a loft conversion. After he'd forced himself to ignore the boxes and abandoned furniture piled all around, it'd become obvious that the roof space would lend itself well. Not only was there room for a sizeable bedroom, there'd be room for an en suite bathroom as well. The only problem he could foresee would be access, but that would easily be solved by the use of a spiral staircase. And perhaps a balcony and steps to the rear...

But when at last he'd filled the page with lines and scribbled measurements, he could hold back the tide of unsettling thoughts no longer. Leaning back in Aunt Suzie's dust-covered rocking chair, he gave a groan of self-loathing, the pad falling to his lap as he tilted his gaze towards the rafters. He'd been such a bastard. How could he have tried to make Lissy take the blame for whathe'd done? Because he'd instigated it all. He'd been the one to kiss her, to hold her, to touch her. In hindsight, her inexperience had been obvious but he knew he'd decided not to see it, chosen not to consider what it might mean.

But she'd been amazing. Incredible. So sweet, so trusting, so responsive. She'd given herself freely to him, though he knew damned well he hadn't been easy on her. Even now, in his head, he could hear her sobbing his name, her almost tortured gasps of pleasure as he'd poured himself into her, body and soul. And maybe that was the most astonishing thing of all. He couldn't remember desiring a woman more than he'd desired her, wanting to please a woman more than he'd wanted to please her. And when she'd flown apart in his arms,God... He'd thought his heart would melt.

So what the hell was wrong with him? Why on earth couldn't he have told her that, instead of making her wretched, instead of letting her believe he thought she was responsible for them not using protection? But he already knew the answer to his own question. Guilt. He'd taken the risk of getting her pregnant when he hadn't taken the risk of telling her the one thing he really should've told her before things had gone that far. Worse still, he didn't have a clue how he was going to tell her now.

Discerning a series of clicks, then a shuffling noise from below, Matt strained to listen. It sounded like Lissy was out of the bathroom. Now what should he do? Go down, pull her into his arms, tell her he was sorry, tell hereverything? Hold her so tightly she couldn't run from him? No, he was almost certain that wouldn't work. Besides, he knew he wasn't ready to see the look on her face, to witness her sense of betrayal.Coward, he castigated himself, burying his face in his hands with a sigh. But how could he make her understand why he hadn't told her before, why the timing had never seemed right?

"Matt?"

Astonished, he dropped his hands to find she'd climbed the ladder, just her head and upper body visible above the hatchway. "Lissy. Hey--"

She shook her head to cut him off, making no attempt to meet his eyes. "I was wondering if I could borrow your mobile. I just tried to call a taxi, but it looks like Charlie's phone's finally been disconnected. There's not even a dialling tone."

"What?" Startled into action, Matt sprang forward, the rocking chair lurching backwards and colliding noisily with the tower of crates behind it. "God, Lissy--no! You don't need to go."

"I think I should. It's probably for the best," she said, her voice becoming unsteady as he wove around the boxes towards her. "I don't know h-how we're supposed to move on from th-this. Maybe we should just pretend--pretend nothing ever hap-penned--" She uttered a yelp as he reached down for her, his hands sliding beneath her shoulders, hauling her up into the loft and into his arms. "Matt!"

And then he was kissing her, kissing her as though he never wanted to stop, drawing her in against him, his body so wonderfully warm. Within seconds, Melissa gave up all thought of resistance. Gave up all thought. She was dimly aware of him lifting her, of him slinging her legs around his waist, of him staggering backwards. But it was only when they sat, when he released her lips at last, that she became conscious of anything else. His hands stroking her back, her laboured breathing, the realisation that tears were coursing down her cheeks. And that somehow they were rocking, to and fro, Matt whispering endearments into her ear, sounding almost as choked as she.

"God. You're freezing," she heard now, his hands rubbing more vigorously. "How the hell did you get so cold?"

To her surprise, she found herself managing a smile. Hadn't they had this conversation before? "No hot water," she answered now as she had then, her smile broadening into a tearful grin as he pushed her away to look into her face, the same light of remembrance in his own eyes. "You might want to wait a while before you have a shave," she added, tentatively touching the stubble on his chin.

"Liss." He stroked back her damp hair, his lips twisting slightly. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I tried to make you take the blame. It was all me. I--"

"No. I should've thought. I should've--"

Matt put a finger to her mouth. "I should've looked after you."

"I don't need looking after!" she fired back, knocking his hand away before picking at his T-shirt and drying her eyes on the hem. "I'm a grown woman, for God's sake. Like I said, it takes two to tango. We both should've thought about what we were doing. But maybe if we had, we wouldn't have done what we did. And I for one--I'm really glad that--that..." Melissa trailed off, suddenly unsure Matt felt the same way.

"I'm really glad that we did too."

Relieved, she allowed him to tug her back into his arms, letting her head drop to his shoulder as they continued to rock. Of course, they were sitting in Suzie's chair, she realised. She hadn't seen it in years, not since her aunt had died. "I think--I think we'll be okay, anyway," she said, wanting to reassure him lest he change his mind. She'd done her calculations in the bath. "It's completely the wrong time of the month. It's a lot harder to get pregnant than most people think. There's only one week in your cycle when it's really possible, right in the middle. And I'm at the end of mine. My period's due. Well, actually, it's already a couple of days late--"

"Liss--"

"--so I'm sure it'll be all right," she gabbled on, keen to persuade him she knew what she was talking about. "Gemma's been trying to get pregnant for months. She's getting kind of obsessed about it, actually, got all these books and mother and baby magazines. But maybe, just to be on the safe side, I could take the morning after pill. Though I'm not really sure if they'll have it in the pharmacy in Ebberlea--"

"Melissa!" Startled once again by his use of her full name, she raised her head to find him looking at her rather oddly. "Right now, I'm not worried about that, okay? There are things..." He hesitated, glancing off to one side. "Other things we need to talk about."

Baffled, Melissa followed his gaze, seeing he was staring at the boxes beside them, piled almost to the rafters. "Oh," she murmured nodding, guessing he probably wanted to change the subject. Well, she couldn't blame him for that. Who wanted to dwell on the thought of an unplanned pregnancy? "You're right. God, it's even more of a mess up here than I thought it would be. How the hell are we going to clear all this out by Friday?"

"Same way as we'll clear the rest," she heard him say as she wriggled backwards off his lap and reached up to pull the highest box down. "We'll get there, don't worry. But actually, that wasn't--"

"Whoa!" She giggled, staggering beneath the weight of the enormous crate, Matt leaping to his feet to help her manoeuvre it down to the floorboards. "This had better be good. What the hell's in here? Don't tell me, Charlie collected rocks along with everything else?"

But it wasn't a collection of rocks, it was a collection of books, she realised, hearing Matt sigh as she dropped to her knees to rummage through them; a colourful selection of Aunt Suzie's category romance novels. She'd had them delivered every month or so, Melissa remembered now. The remainder of the box was filled with envelopes. Dozens of them. "Good grief."

"More old bills?" Matt gave a groan as he knelt beside her. "I thought we'd finished with those. After all those I found in the cabinet in the dining room?"

"Ah, but those were the bills he got in the last five years," she said, plucking out a yellowing envelope and retrieving its contents. "Yep--look." She showed him the date. "Water rates for 1993."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Matt sounded more exasperated than she'd heard him all week. "Charlie, for God's sake, why?"

"It's not just bills. There are letters here too." Melissa gazed at the franking mark on the next envelope she'd pulled out. "This one's from Mickleton Hospital." And morbid curiosity getting the better of her, she slid out the single sheet of paper contained within. "'Dear Mrs McKenzie. Chemotherapy appointment'." Her frown deepened. "For Wednesday, the first of September. But..."

She felt Matt's arm slide around her shoulders, felt his mouth brushing against her temple. "Ah, Liss," he murmured in sympathy. "I know."

"No--it's not that. Look." She stabbed a finger at the letter. "Look at the year. Look when it was." Stricken, she watched his face as he gazed at the page, saw his eyes narrow. "Am I going mad? Suzie wasn't even diagnosed as having cancer then, was she? They told us they didn't find out until--what was it--February? The same year she died. So why was she having chemo the year before?"

Matt was still frowning. "Looks like they found out a bit sooner than they let on."

"What?" She stared at him, appalled. "I don't understand. Why didn't they tellus sooner then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe they needed some time to get used to the idea. Maybe they hoped she'd get better, so that they wouldn't actually need to tell us."

"You knew?" she accused, a flash of heat rising into her face. "Matt, tell me the truth--did you know?"

"Hey, I swear I had no idea." He put his hand to his chest, dipping his head to force her to look into his eyes. "I didn't know that, okay? The first I knew of Suzie having cancer was when they sat us down to tell us about it that summer, remember?"

Melissa didn't think she'd ever be able to forget. It had already been the worst six weeks of her life, what with Matt barely speaking to her and Jason's constant taunts. So Charlie's typically upbeat but frank disclosure of Suzie's illness had been the bitter icing on an already arsenic-laden cake. Even now, she could feel the same pain she'd felt then, the sickening sensation of being stabbed through the heart. "Right," she murmured, biting her lip to fight back fresh tears.

"Hey." Matt's fingers gently intertwined with her own. "Maybe we should get out of here for a bit. How about a walk? Get some fresh--"

"Oh no." She shook her head hastily, already leaning back over the box, picking through the papers with her free hand. "I'm fine, really. In fact, it's kind of reassuring to know I'm not always the last to find out abouteverything."

"Right." There was a pause before he spoke again. "About that. You see, there's something--"

"Ooh--what's this?" Her fingers alighting upon a large padded envelope, Melissa was only half-conscious of that odd note in his voice again. "Looks interesting."

"Lissy!"

But she wasn't really listening, already pulling out what was actually a small packet. And as she saw the return address scribbled on the back panel, her eyes widened. "God, it's from your mother. Addressed to Charlie."

Sighing heavily, Matt peered over her shoulder. "Oh, it'll just be school stuff. I found some other envelopes like that in the dining room. Because she and Dad were out in South Africa, I think she sent most of the correspondence from my school to Charlie for him to deal with. It was easier that way, rather than her having to do everything long distance. You know how she..." But as Melissa shook out the contents of the envelope into her lap, he trailed off, it becoming only too obvious that they weren't looking at 'school stuff' at all, but two bundles of folded letters, each secured with a single rubber band. "What the hell...?"

Melissa picked up the smaller of the bundles with shaking fingers, unable to tear her gaze from the uppermost letter, from the sight of the familiar sloping handwriting scrawled across the page. Matt's handwriting...

Missing you so much. Starting to hate it here now. Sometimes, it feels like being in prison. Although to be honest, if we were in prison, I think we'd get more freedom...

"Liss..."

Shocked beyond speech, she lifted her gaze to discover Matt looked equally stunned. And swallowing hard, she fumbled for the other bundle of letters, pressing them into his hands.

"I don't get it." He stared at the pile and then at Melissa, shaking his head slightly. "You reallydid write?"

"What?" Startled, she gazed back at him. "You know I did. I told you that yesterday. Did you think I'd lied?"

"No." He brushed a distracted hand through his hair, looking more bewildered than she'd ever seen him. "Well, okay, yes. Maybe."

"Matt!"

"I wasn't sure what to think. I thought that maybe you'd just said it to make me feel better. After I'd told you I'd written to you."

"Well--" She motioned rather helplessly towards the letters in his hands. "Clearly, I didn't lie."

"And neither did I." Matt gave an agitated shrug. "Liss--I'm sorry. Really I am. But God..." Wrenching away the rubber band, he began flicking through the numerous sheets covered in her own neat hand. "You wrote me allthese?"

"Of course I did! I wrote to you every day. Just like I promised I would..." But watching him read, seeing him mouth the words she'd written what felt like a lifetime ago, Melissa suddenly found herself too choked to carry on. Why hadn't he seen them before? Why hadn't the letters reached him when they were supposed to? How could it be that they'd only discovered them now? In Charlie's loft, of all places, nearly fifteen years after she'd first posted them? Desperate for answers, she snatched up the padded envelope from where it had fallen between them, noticing that a single typewritten sheet of paper remained inside. And after extracting it between finger and thumb, she slowly unfolded the page.

Charlie

You can imagine my horror at receiving these from school today. The Headmaster, quite rightly in my opinion, has expressed concern at the nature of the correspondence between Matthew and Melissa. So much for your assurances that their relationship is innocent. Even a cursory glance through these letters has demonstrated to me that it clearly isn't.

You already know my feelings on this matter. As you are aware, Matthew is at a highly vulnerable stage of his education and cannot afford to be distracted by this silly young girl. Therefore, I insist that you deal with this as a matter of urgency. It must be made crystal clear to both Matthew and Melissa that their little romance cannot continue under any circumstances. I'm sure I don't need to point out the possible consequences of non-action.

Ruth

"What's that?"

Melissa looked up, swallowing hard as she met Matt's questioning gaze. "The reason neither of us got our letters."

He frowned. "What?"

Having handed him the page, she hauled herself to her feet, unable to watch while he read. Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised, she mused, returning to the rocking chair and closing her eyes as her hand closed around the arm rest, the wood cool beneath her fingers. Though it made little sense that Matt's mother had assumed Charlie would help her in her mission to keep them apart. To her recollection, he'd never discouraged their friendship. Even when it had all gone horribly wrong, he'd been the one to constantly suggest reconciliation.

"Liss." She jumped as Matt's arms slid around her, tugging her tightly against him. "Oh God, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," she murmured, turning in his embrace and burying her head into his shoulder. "At least we know what happened now, right? At least we can move on. Though there is one thing I really would like to know." And lifting her head at last, she gazed up at him, biting her lip when she saw her own distress mirrored in his expression.

"Oh Matt. Why the hell does your mother hate meso much?"

*

Thank you so much for reading. All votes and comments are gratefully received.

Lily

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