I sip more wine, despite knowing I need to stop drinking. Tackling David is one thing; Becker is a whole new level of willpower. Getting blind drunk won’t help me.
The silence is tangible, everyone’s interest obvious by the quiet and thick atmosphere.
‘Who I am is not your concern.’ I hear the even beats of Becker’s brogues coming closer and see Paul in front of me watching as something approaches behind. Or someone. Someone tall. I see him out the corner of my eye perch on a stool next to me, his knee close to mine. ‘Haig on the rocks, please.’
David is bristling behind me but, right now, I’m in no position to address the situation. I want to cut off both of their balls. I just can’t decide which one I want to hurt more. ‘What are you doing here?’ I hiss out the side of my mouth, refusing to look at him.
‘I’ve given you plenty of time to come to your senses,’ he states matter-of-factly, confidence oozing from his entire being. ‘Time’s up.’
‘You cannot be serious?’
‘Oh, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Not masters of art. Not priceless treasures. Not even Gloria, and you know how I feel about my precious, priceless Aston.’ There would be nothing to stop my eyes from finding his after those words. His face is straight, serious, as he accepts his drink from a quiet Paul and raises his glass in thanks before taking a healthy swig, his hazel eyes on me. ‘And since old boyfriends seem to be on the prowl, things just got a whole lot more serious.’ His face remains impassive, though I sense the threat there. ‘I’m not giving up, Eleanor.’ He turns to David, who’s standing quietly behind us, probably gawping in disbelief. ‘You still here?’
‘Who the hell are you?’ My ex splutters again, somewhere between anger and genuine curiosity, trying to straighten out his soaked shirt.
‘What are you, deaf?’ Becker asks, and I cringe. The pub is still super quiet, all attention pointing at us. ‘I already told you, it’s not your concern. Run along now.’
‘I’m going nowhere.’ David laughs. ‘This is my local.’
‘Time to leave, David,’ Paul pipes up, walking around the bar. I follow his path and watch him open the door.
‘This isn’t done, Elle.’ David says, and I look at Becker briefly, as if checking he’s listening. ‘You know it, and I know it.’
I remain quiet, but Becker shifts on his stool, drawing breath. ‘Trust me,’ he says calmly, giving my ex a death stare. ‘It’s done.’ He’s his usual beautiful self, dressed to impress in a dark grey charcoal suit. I wish I’d never looked at him.
I turn back to face the bar and close my eyes to gather some strength, guzzling some more wine, hoping to douse the building unease simmering in my gut. ‘Please go,’ I murmur, hearing hushed whispers beginning to break out, no doubt everyone surmising who Becker is.
‘I’m going nowhere until you agree to come with me.’ I can feel his eyes drilling into my profile.
‘You’ll be waiting a long time.’
‘I’m in no rush,’ he whispers as his hand drifts over to my leg and rests on my kneecap. I whip it away, furious with my body for heating up with only a brief skimming touch. ‘I’ve spent years searching for a lump of marble that probably can’t be found, Eleanor. Do you think waiting for you is going to faze me?’ He finds my knee again and squeezes. ‘Especially since you want to be found, princess.’
‘I do not want to be found. I want to forget I ever met you.’
‘Liar.’
Paul presents himself behind the bar, eyeing my companion warily. ‘You okay there, Eleanor?’
‘Fine.’ All that held air in my lungs billows out. ‘He’s just leaving.’ I want to crawl into my wine glass and drown myself, especially when my mum hurries over. Oh my days, how am I going to explain him?
‘Eleanor, aren’t you going to introduce me?’ she asks, putting her hand out to Becker.
I watch as he takes it gently and shakes. I’ve lost the ability to speak, so I resort to watching helplessly as Becker bamboozles my mother with one of those disarming smiles and a flash of his sparkling angel eyes. ‘I’m Becker Hunt,’ he declares softly. ‘Eleanor’s boss.’
Mum breathes in her surprise and darts her eyes to me. The arsehole. I want to correct him, but my ability to talk doesn’t look like it’s returning anytime