Not One of Many - Chapter Twenty Six.
Big thanks for all the love this little story of mine is still getting! We’re not far from the end now, just a couple more chapters will see it to its close!
Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five
Tag list - In the comments
Words - 3,811
Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!
“So, you’re going in right from up here, then?” Alfie asked, Beth handing her bag, slides and cover all to Magda the following day at the cliffs, taking a look over the edge as a couple of people already present took turns to neatly dive off.
“See you in the water!” With no hesitation, she jumped off the edge, Marcus and Della cheering her from slightly further down at a lower height before the latter followed her in, Alfie and Dennis soon to join them.
“We need to get snorkels, look at all the fish dotted around! Is there a place we can go grab some?” Marcus asked Alfie as they treaded water.
“Nah, mate, it’s just restaurants and a couple of gift shops. Over the other side of the island there is, though. Tell you what, we’ll do that tomorrow, yeah?”
“Oh my god, can we scuba?” Beth asked enthusiastically.
“Yeah, baby beast. I mean, can you, though? Otherwise, you’ll need lessons.”
“Yes! I did it in Mexico, so can Mags too which’ll be great since she’s not into the cliff diving. Speaking of which, I want another go!” He grinned, loving her enthusiasm. A few more jumps were enjoyed before Alfie and Beth swam off to explore together, looking around at the lower rocks within the water, heading out along the cliff coast, Alfie pulling himself out of the water and ambling over the slick lower rocks, pulling himself up into the cavern of a small cave.
“Come on up here, love,” he called, Beth swimming over and hoisting herself out. “There she is, my little doe eyed Bambi.” he greeted her with warmly as she climbed into the cave, easing herself over to the smoother, mossy surface he was sat upon, seating herself between his legs and leaning back against his chest.
“Ahhh, shade,” she sighed, enjoying the coolness of the cave. Santorini was scorching at thirty-three degrees, her shoulders turning a little pink despite her liberal smothering of waterproof sunscreen. Turning to look at him, she smiled, receiving a kiss, his fingers stroking her forearms.
“You know your eyes are the exact same colour as that sky. Bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in me life.” She hummed happily into another kiss, stroking his face, happily nestled against him, just enjoying the serenity of the moment. She felt very carefree of what she’d had beleaguering her mind, regarding her relationship with him as she sat and watched the cliff divers, Della taking another turn, a few other people not so brave as they hovered at the edge.
If she loved him, and she did, truly very much, then she had to accept him just as he came, and that happened to be very wealthy. Her unease about that, borne of the fact that his meeting of her made him fall so headlong in love with her, that it had broken two of the relationships he was left with by the time she’d separated from him professionally, shouldn’t really factor into what they had, she thought, looking out at the ripples of water as they caught the glare of the sun, like gold glitter tossed into a vast breadth of endless, clear blue.
Over analysing it would lead to issues arising, and she knew she needed to just accept it for what it was, two people who had fallen in love, one not compromising what she believed in order for that coming together to be without conditions, and the other realising he loved her too much to not meet her expectations. What if he hadn’t? What if he’d remained staunch that it was polygamy or nothing?
The cold dread of even thinking about that suddenly shunted hard against her guilt, like a speeding car crashing into a wall.
A life with no Alfie. Even imagining it for a second made it hard to breathe.
“What’s up, flower? Your heart’s racing,” he observed, feeling her heartbeat thudding against his arm where he held her in a tight hug.
“I think I just took the first step in beginning to reconcile my guilty feelings,” she spoke, hoping it wouldn’t lead to him blowing up at the mere mention.
“Oh yeah?” His tone was casual, his fingers tracing circles over her clavicles.
She turned, kneeling before him, taking his hands. “I just thought on the alternative, of you deciding you didn’t want to meet my expectations from a relationship and us thusly not ending up together, and it scared the shit out of me. I think it was what I needed, to begin moving past it. A life without you, god, I just... no!” she paused, resting her forehead to his chest. “Too scary!”
He chuckled, releasing her hands to stroke her hair, kissing her head. “It is, ain’t it? Listen, all you need to know is this. You and me, yeah, we’re bashert. Nothing else matters.” He’d never forget the way she looked at him in that moment, a break in the clouds making the sunlight stream across her face, the way he watched what she’d been struggling with melt away, her smile carefree, her eyes happy. “Come on, let’s get back in the water.”
After continuing their exploratory swim, they took to the cliffs again, hurtling down to the water below, spending a further hour entertaining all things aqua before drying off and dressing, then heading to lunch.
“Yia mas!” the owner of the restaurant shouted, after bringing a tray of ouzo shots over to them not long after they’d ordered. Everyone sunk it, all bar Alfie, who had to explain he seldom drank and was also driving. “Then I give your shots to your lovely lady!”
“Yeah, she’ll have ‘em!” He turned to Beth with a grin, leaning to kiss her shoulder.
“Trying to get me drunk?”
“Yes!” They chatted while awaiting their food, Beth quickly taking a picture of them all and uploading it to her Instagram, checking in with her notifications once she was done tagging everyone. There were quite a few to read, since she’d been too busy having a good time to worry much about monitoring likes and comments, but the latter she’d received in droves on her pictures, all from one account.
‘How does it feel, knowing you stole your boyfriend?’
‘Someone should smack that grin right off your face.’
‘Utter bitch, boyfriend stealer!’
‘Fucking nasty little tramp. You look vile.’
‘He’ll get bored of you eventually, mark my words. How can you possibly make up for the fact he used to date THREE women at once?’
‘Can’t wait to see your heart broken too!’
Sending macabre packages wasn’t enough. Stalking her wasn’t enough. Posting threatening notes through her door wasn’t enough. Putting someone up to trying to access her flat wasn’t enough. Talia now had to chase her down online as well. She took screen shots of all of the comments before deleting them and blocking the account they’d come from.
“That better not be work you’re concerning yourself with there, yeah?”
She turned to Alfie with a crooked grin, a soft shake of her head confirming that it wasn’t, turning the screen to him. “I’m screenshotting, deleting and I just blocked the account. I’m not letting her bother me. It’s what she’s hoping for, after all.” Underneath, though, it did bother her. How could it not?
He didn’t look impressed, reading through the comments before handing her phone back. “I did wonder, though, if she’d start harassing you online an’ all. It’s fuckin’ easy. Expect her not to stop, too, just because you blocked her. She’ll likely make multiple accounts.”
Beth smirked a little, going to her settings and changing her privacy. “Well, she can try, but I just changed my profile to private, so people can now only view my content if I accept them to follow me. I shan’t be accepting anyone unless I know them. She can still send messages, but they’ll just go into the requests folder.”
“Which you won’t make a point of checking, will you?”
Shaking her head, she leaned into him, Alfie wrapping his arm around her. “Will you?”
“No, boo. I won’t.”
“It just fuckin’ pisses me off that she’s doing it in a way where we can’t prove it’s her. Until we have concrete proof, we’ve just gotta deal with it. But not now, though. Enough talk of her. Drink your wine, let’s have a good afternoon.”
That’s exactly what they had, heading back to the house to lounge around and relax in the time before they’d all meet for dinner again in the evening, Beth deciding to go for a nap. Naps, lounging, exploring, good food, late nights and lazy mornings were the theme of the rest of their trip, Beth quite sad to leave Santorini behind, but Alfie reminding her they could come back whenever the villa wasn’t booked for use. Besides, she had exciting changes to make as soon as they arrived back in London, her change of address being it.
On Monday, she returned to her flat to begin the arduous task of packing and organising, selling the furniture she’d no longer need, flogging it all at a knock down price on Facebook marketplace to ensure a quick sale, Alfie telling her to include her desk and chair as well.
“But where will I do my work?” she’d asked.
“All will be revealed, treacle.” His reply had come with a wink, a smile, and no further information than that. By Tuesday, all furniture was sold, various people coming to collect, and the council taking away everything not worthy of selling for a small fee, her landlord also notified of her move. By Wednesday, she was ready to go, Alfie loaning her his Range Rover so she could begin ferrying everything else over to Chelsea.
While contacting the landlord, she made a point to let him know that she’d been receiving some harassment at the flat, and just to make the new tenant aware of such, in case it continued. She had no idea how thoroughly Talia was keeping eyes on her, or how quickly her former abode would be rented out to someone else, so thought it best to err on the side of courteous transparency. Of course, more letters had been delivered while she’d been absent, but not too many, meaning Talia likely noticed after a while that she was away.
Once she had the last load of boxes packed, Beth took a little tour of the empty space, filled with so many memories, most of them good, some bad.
It had been her little sanctuary, her cosy little abode, her office, her place of entertaining friends, the home she had moved two boyfriends into, and swiftly kicked them out of come the end of their time together. Now, it was the end of her time with the space, Beth smiling, wiping a little tear from her eye, excited to begin her new chapter. She left her keys with Keith, giving him a big hug in departure before getting into the car and driving away from Mercier Road for the last time.
“Honey, I’m home,” she called from the front door playfully, carrying her last box in, seeing Alfie get up from his desk and open his arms to her.
“And nothing could please me more right now.” He kissed her, humming happily as she stroked his chest, Beth feeling relieved that her three days of hard slog were over and she was free to settle into her new home. “Oh, me mum called me about an hour ago, and naturally I caught her up on the fact that you’d moved in. She wants to meet you.”
Bang went her plan to settle. Meeting his mother was a big thing, after all.
“I was thinking it might be good for you to get your folks round here an’ all, let everyone meet each other together.”
Her blood pressure did nothing but rise, the more words he opened his mouth to speak.
“Beth, you okay? You’re even more doe eyed than usual,” he observed, stroking her cheek.
“I’m fine!” Her words, squeaked with a cadence akin to a startled mouse somewhat negated that notion. “It’s just... I’m fine!”
He snorted with soft laughter. “She ain’t that bad!”
“No, no I don’t assume that she is! It’s just... it’s nerve wracking, wondering if she’s going to like me or not,” she confessed, moving through to the kitchen with him. Suddenly, a glass of wine was in order. Hell, it was five o’ clock somewhere, even if only 3:11pm in London.
“You’re Jewish, she’ll be fucking thrilled. I haven’t actually revealed that to her yet, I wanna be present to see the look on her face when I do.” Her mum and dad knew, she’d already told them a few weeks ago all about Alfie, both having their reservations over his former lifestyle, wondering what kind of man their only child was getting involved with, protective as ever. She hoped that in meeting him, they’d soon see what she saw.
“Well, despite my nerves, I’ll look forward to it. I’ll cook, too.”
Immediately, Alfie began shaking his head. “What? I’m a good cook!”
“I know, sugar plum. I know that, the chicken you made while we were on holiday was fuckin’ amazing, but no, don’t put yourself through that with my mother in the house. She’ll fuss. Seriously, Amira made her Sunday lunch once, never again. She hovers under the guise of wanting to help, but in truth she subtlety nit-picks if you do anything that slightly deviates from the way she prepares a meal. It took half a bottle of vodka for the poor bird to unwind after she’d left,” he revealed, laughing at the memory. “I’ll hire a catering team to come in and do it.”
“If I’m going to have a critical audience, then that would be preferrable. Actually, my mum can be very similar at times. It’s the suggesting, the ‘when I make the potatoes, I add onion salt’, or ‘are you sure you don’t want to cook those beans for a little longer?’ and similar. They know what they’re doing, but it’s always so soft and under the guise of help that you can’t call them out on it. Except for my bubbe. She’ll smack hands with spoons if anyone interferes in her kitchen!”
“Yeah, invite your nan, an’ all!” he would have loved to be meeting her grandfather too, but Charlie had passed seven years previously, her other grandparents a little too far away, Bettie and Julian Drake residing in her father’s hometown of Aviemore, Scotland. His own grandparents on both sides had also passed on, his last surviving grandparent, his grandpa Bill dying just four months before he’d met Beth.
“Well, it looks like I have some phone calls to make, then,” she asserted, sipping her wine.
“Before you do, follow me.” Walking out of the kitchen, he headed to the stairs, Beth putting her wine down and following him, her mouth beginning to upturn as he stopped at the little seated area outside of the bathroom. It was a seated area no longer, except for one sofa remaining. “Your office, madam.”
There before her, all furnished with a beautiful desk, ample, neat storage and a very comfy looking chair, was an area for her to work in, Beth taking in the little differences. Framed above her desk was an old film poster for Casablanca, her first article for The Times, and the one she had written about him, both laid out in professional print. Also, there was a photograph he had taken of them on his phone not long after they’d got together, and one he’d taken of her, Magda, Kinga, Oliver and Dennis at the ELLE summer style party.
A lot of thought had gone into it, making the space unquestionably hers, and for that, she was touched. “Alfie,” she began softly, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“So, you like it?”
“Like it? I bloody love it! It’s so beautiful! And it’s nice and quiet up here, I’m right next to the bathroom, far away enough from the kitchen so I don’t have my head in the fridge all the time, too!” he chuckled at that, kissing her. “Thank you so much. I love you.”
“Love you too, baby beast. No working today though, right? Just get yourself settled and unpacked. I look forward to seeing your stuff slowly being dotted around here and there.” He kissed her again before getting back to work, Beth beaming. She truly felt so very welcome there in his home, a home that was now hers, too.
Going back downstairs, she took one of the boxes and began to unpack, dotting her lovely candles that she spent far too much money on around here and there, a few of her ornaments as well, loving how they blended into the space well, she and Alfie having very similar tastes where objet d’art was concerned.
A few framed pictures of her and her friends, were placed around, the rest she took along with some other items she had no immediate requirement for out to the space next to the wine cellar, coming back in and locating her phone, noticing that they only had the bare minimum in the house where edibles were concerned. She then thought better of her tentative plan.
“Just popping to do the food shop. I’d get it online, but I don’t want any crazy substitutes. Love you.” she spoke, picking up his car keys and heading out, bound for the local Waitrose. It gave her a little thrill, to be shopping for someone other than herself as well, getting all the things she knew he liked, stocking up on wine too, before remembering, of course, she now had a cellar full of the stuff. Her new life really would take some getting used to.
Once all of her groceries were packed and paid for, she left the shop and headed back to the car, noticing two men standing behind it, examining it closely. It was something she was used to, being that the car was only six months old, Range Rover’s newest of models and often admired by people. When she reached them, though, she swiftly found it was not the car itself they were focusing upon, but rather what had been spray painted in big, red letters right across the back.
SLUT
The men looked at her sympathetically, but with a touch of humour as well. “Did you see who did it?” she asked, her slightly sharp delivery knocking the grins off their faces.
“Sorry, love. Only noticed it when we pulled up. Go inside and ask at the customer services desk, though. They’ll have it on CCTV.”
She thanked the man for his suggestion, opening the boot and loading her shopping in there before entering the store again and locating the desk.
“I’m afraid Waitrose do not own the carpark, madam, but here, let me give you the name of the company to contact for the CCTV footage. They’ll be able to help you.” the woman whom she spoke with informed her, writing it down and handing her the slip of paper, Beth on the phone with them before she’d even left the store again.
After being placed on hold for five minutes, she got through to an operator, explaining what had happened and giving the time of her arrival as well as the car registration when prompted, then her email address so they could send the still frames of anything they found from the footage. She thanked them for being helpful before having to take the humiliating drive home, people beeping their horns at her and shouting obscenities when they noticed the graffiti, Beth absolutely furious. When Alfie witnessed it, he was even angrier.
“She’s fucking done it this time, I swear,” he muttered, pulling his phone out and tapping in a number that although was no longer present as a contact, he knew from memory, putting the call on speaker as Beth joined him in the kitchen.
“Hello?” Talia.
“Right, you fuckin’ listen to me and you listen good, yeah? This little campaign of harassment you have against Beth, it ends now. All the letters, the online business, the fucking graffitiing my bloody car, the stalking her, you put a fuckin’ stop to it, right? We’ve got footage coming from the people who own the car park and believe me, as soon as we have proof that all of this is coming from you, you’re getting a fuckin’ restraining order slapped on you. Do you fuckin’ understand, you mental bitch?”
“Well, I hope a face will be shown on the footage, because it isn’t going to be mine! Alfie, I haven’t got the faintest idea what the bloody hell you’re going on about, I really don’t!”
He was incredulous, Beth holding his arm as she watched his muscles stiffening in rage. “You’re a fuckin’ liar! First you start following us around and then you begin with all this shit an’ all! Fucking pack it in, Talia!”
“Okay, alright, I know I followed you both, and whether you believe me or not, I am actually sorry about that. I was drunk and not thinking straight, but I’ve quit the booze and realised that I have to move on. Anything else just wasn’t me, and I really don’t care if you believe that or not. Like I said, I want to move on, so go on, you do your digging into it and you’ll see it isn’t coming from me. With the ease you’d pick up and drop women from your life, it could be anyone, couldn’t it? But I maintain, it isn’t me! Bye.”
Alfie could have picked up his phone and hurled it, with the amount of rage pumping through him in that moment, fed up beyond measure at her harassing antics and flat-out lies over her culpability. He didn’t, though. For Beth’s sake. “Did you hear it in her voice, how fuckin’ entertained she sounded? Smug little cow. Telling me it could have been anyone as well when all fingers point to her! She’s the only one out of my immediate exes who had an issue with you!”
“I know, she wasn’t too smart there, saying that in an attempt to throw us off. And yes, she did sound smug.” Beth confirmed, rubbing his shoulder, hoping to dissipate his anger a tad. Angry Alfie was not her favourite Alfie by a long shot, hating to see him stressed or wound up.
That was the most maddening thing about it, the gall of the woman, to lie and sound so thoroughly entertained at his anger. Sadly, Alfie had just given her the rise it was obvious she’d been looking for.
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