Read Shiver Sweet Online

Authors: H Elliston

Shiver Sweet (14 page)

“My brother’s an ass and doesn’t deserve you.  I hate him for hurting you like this.  Why on earth he’d hook up with her is beyond me.”

“Hook up?” 
Did something happen that I didn’t know about?
  “What do you mean?”  She grabbed Sarah’s laptop from behind her sofa, and shoved it onto her bookshelf in the corner of the room.  Thank goodness she’d gotten it back.  In the wrong hands that would land a lot of people in deep, deep shit.  Praying that Brian would not realise he’d left it in her car last night, she sat down to concentrate on what Steph had to say.

“Oh, just... er, that Christa’s nothing but a rotten egg and a cheat.  Always has been.”

Claire gulped and sat up straight. 
How interesting! 
“Really?”
 
She knew Steph had developed a soft spot for her over the months.  If Steph had dirt on Christa, she had to coax it out.  Cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder, Claire twisted her hair up into a bun and purposefully sweetened her voice to massage Steph’s soft spot.  “We should go out for drinks, just the
two
of us.”

“I’d love to.”  Steph’s voice had an obvious perkiness.

“But first, tell me what you mean by ‘rotten egg’.”  Claire might be able to use this to convince Brian that Christa was no good for him.  “When did Christa cheat?  On her husband?”

“No.  It was ages ago,” Steph replied. 

Oh, great.  So much for juicy gossip.

“I haven’t had much to do with her since Sarah was a baby, but I doubt she’s changed.”

Claire picked at her fingernails.  “What happened?”

“Christa never mentioned the guy’s name, but she was cheating on my brother, Michael, around the time she got pregnant.  She blurted it out while crying on my shoulder.  I was the first person she’d told about being pregnant.”

Claire tightened her grip on the phone and sat rigid with impatience on the sofa. 
Perhaps this would be juicy.
  “And?”

“Christa said she didn’t know who the father of her baby was.”

Goose bumps raised on Claire’s skin.  “Oh, heck.”  Her world charred around the edges.  Steph might not have known who the
other
guy was, but Claire sure did.  Brian.  “Tell me more.  What happened?”

“You have to understand that I loved Michael and was thrilled at the thought of becoming an auntie,” Steph explained.  “I got excited, carried away, and thought this news might get Christa and Michael back together.  I told Christa to forget about this other guy, and kinda said that the dates meant that Michael had to be the father.”


Kinda said?” 
Claire’s voice hardened with dread.  “You mean you lied?”

Steph didn’t answer.  Her dead air spoke volumes. 

Oh, shit. 
Brian is Sarah’s dad!
 And Steph had manipulated Christa into believing that he wasn’t.  Steph was five years Christa’s senior.  Christa was a teenager at the time, a pregnant and probably hysterical one who would likely have believed Steph, especially seeing as she was training to be a nurse.  Tears trickled down Claire’s cheeks.  Brian had let it slip that he and Christa had been together, but never once had he said it was around the time she got pregnant.  He’d have been seventeen, perhaps about to turn eighteen then.  “What happened next?”

“Christa told Michael she was pregnant with his child.”  Steph sniffed. 
Is she crying?
  “I hoped he’d be delighted, but he couldn’t handle it.  He took off, got drunk with his bad boy mates as usual, but this time...  he fell onto the train lines.”

Oh, my God.  Claire smothered her mouth with her hand to keep from spluttering down the phone.  She sat shocked and agitated, but also puzzled as to why Steph was sharing this dark secret with her.  No.  It couldn’t be true.  There had to be more meat to her story because this made Steph look so bad, in fact partially responsible for Michael’s death.

“I felt guilty,” Steph said.  “It drove me insane.”

Jeez.
  “I bet it did.”

“If Christa did have paternity doubts, then I think the shock of Michael’s death sealed that box for her anyway.  I mean... how could she raise the subject after he’d just died because she’d told him he was going to be a dad?  How could I?  My family would have gone ballistic.  I didn’t know what to do, so I kept up the story and told Christa not to tell anyone about this other guy.”

“Didn’t Bri... er... this
other
guy-“ Claire practically choked on the words. “-ever wonder if he was the father?”

“Christa told him he wasn’t.   I told her to tell him that the dates didn’t match up.  I’m assuming he was also a teenager and well... c’mon... Even Christa only knew the basics, so what do boys that age really know about ovulation and the window of conception?”

“Hmmm.... probably not enough.” 
Clearly. 
“Didn’t Christa ever wonder about it when she got older?”

“I’d convinced her pretty well.  In her mind, I think it was a closed subject, and a painful one that she didn’t want to revisit.  None of us did.”

Crap, crap. 
Claire’s body thumped and pounded, her bowels would soon be slush.  While tears spilled, she searched her brain for something to say which didn’t scream heartache.  “Is this why you and Christa don’t get along?”

“I don’t know how many times I almost blurted out what I’d done.  But then I grew angry.  If Christa hadn’t cheated on my brother, none of this would have happened and my brother would still be alive.  Anyway, about a year down the line I finally broke contact with her.”

“Does anyone else know about this
other
guy?”

“No.  And they don’t need to.”

Phew.  Claire slumped.  The secret was safe so long as Steph kept her trap shut.

“It’s irrelevant now,” Steph added.  “That’s why I don’t feel bad anymore and why I’m able to tell you this.  My conscience is clear.”

Claire sat forward again.  “Clear?  Why?”  She held her breath. 
There’s more?

“Well... It turned out that I was wrong about this other guy being the father.  I can’t tell you how relieved I was.”

“You were?”  A wave of relief rolled through Claire, drying her tears.  This explained why Steph had confessed.  Thank God it was all a misunderstanding.  She wilted into the sofa.  Brian was not Sarah’s father after all.

“I mean...” Steph went on.  “It’s obvious.  You’ve only got to look at Sarah’s face to see that she comes from our family.”

Oh... fuck, fuck!
  That’s
her evidence?

“So Michael has to be Sarah’s father,” Steph said.  “Or she wouldn’t look like one of us, would she?”

Unless it was sibling sperm, Brian’s. 
Claire’s heart more or less burst open.

So, Brian was indeed Sarah’s father, and no one knew except Claire.

“She’s got the same big blue eyes as me and Brian, a similar jaw and...”

Of course she does.  Claire didn’t want to listen to any more.  Every word assaulted her brain, her heart, her soul.
 
With a low groan, she swiped all the oddments off the coffee table, sending a mug and vase of flowers flying into the radiator. 

“You okay?” Steph asked.  “What was that crashing noise?”

“Nothing.  What were you saying?”

“The reason I’m telling you this is... once a cheat, always a cheat, right?  Brian will soon realise he’s making a mistake.  Let him hang himself.”

Claire said nothing.  It was clear that Steph’s feelings toward her brother were still very raw, mainly stemmed from, she’d discerned, when Brian took off for University not long after Michael died.  Although they did help each other out from time to time, there was always a tangible frost in the air whenever Claire saw them together.

“You still there?”

“Yeah,” Claire mumbled, dabbing her tears with her sleeve.  Right now, she wouldn’t care if Christa was a bloody whore.  Stupid, loopy Steph had no idea about what she’d just let out of the bag.  She had to keep a lid on this.  If Steph spoke of it again, she’d... she’d... cut out her tongue if that’s what it took.

“Those two rotten eggs deserve each other,” Steph mumbled.  “Let them get on with it.  Besides, Brian’s not good enough for you.  But I’m still here for you.  You know that, right?”

“You’re such a sweetheart.”  The endearment was what Steph probably wanted to hear.  Claire tapped a rhythm of anxiety on the carpet with her foot.  Oh, my God.  If Steph and Brian were ever capable of talking rather than screaming at each other, surely they’d piece it together too.  “Don’t tell anyone about this,” Claire said firmly, shaking herself into focus.  She had to contain this.  Immediately.  “Like you said, it’s irrelevant now, Stephy.  If it gets out, everyone will turn on
you
.  You don’t want that, do you?”

“Hell, no.”

“Good.  Don’t mention this ever again.  I’ll phone you tomorrow.  I’ve got to go now.”

“B-but what about that drink?  I thought we were–”

“I need to be on my own for a while.”  Claire hung up.  She leaned forward on the sofa, circled her knees with her arms and screamed out her heartache at the top of her lungs. 

The front door opened, and her brother bombed into the house.

“Dale!”  In a flood of tears, she hopped up and raced over to him.

"I came as quickly as I could, Rachel," he said.  “I’ve been tied up in a house just out of town.  It’s a house share, and Christa repaired one of the girl’s computers the other week.  Anyway, what we saw through the webcam looked promising, so we’ve just installed some permanent cameras.”  He paused and stared.  “What's wrong?"

Claire tried to shake her brain awake.  Switching to her real name was confusing at the best at times.  “I-it’s...”  She wedged herself into the comforting ring of his arms, struggling to get words out.  Her head, one giant knot of pressure replayed Brian's cutting words over and over again.

He pressed his cheek atop her head.  “What happened?”

"Brian just left.  He chucked me," she blurted out.

Dale tightened his arms around her.  "Oh, Rach, I'm sorry."

"It hurts."

"I knew this was coming."  He stroked her hair.  "I told you that you were only a casual fling to him.  He doesn’t deserve you."

Her lower lip trembled as she glanced up.  "Why doesn't he love me more than her?"

He kissed her forehead.  "I should have put a stop to this sooner.  It was bound to end badly, Rach."

For some reason, hearing her own name annoyed her.  “Claire.  Call me Claire from now on.”

“Why?”

“I just prefer it.”

“Okay.  Claire it is.  Whatever makes you happy.”

The reason this had come to a head today rammed into Claire's mind.  She sniffed, slammed both palms on Dale’s chest and shoved hard.  Her bitter eyes fired virtual daggers at him. "Why the fuck did I listen to you?"

"Me?  What did I do?"          

"This is all your fault."  She pushed a shaky hand through her hair.  "If I hadn't accused Brian of wanting to be with Christa, to do his biblical duty, and then driven into a ditch so that he'd whisk Christa out of that bloody house then he wouldn’t have-"

"The plan was good.  In theory."

"But it backfired!"

"It sure did.  James had the shock of his life when Nicola opened the patio door.  He’s got one hell of a gash on his head."

She punched his arm.  "This is about
me
, idiot.  Not everything is about the website."

"Yeah, well, you certainly cocked up there.”

“I got the computer!”

“You said those two were glued at the hip.  Said she’d follow like a puppy.”

“It’s not my fault Nicola... What exactly happened last night?”

“Best you don’t know.”

“Really?”  She rolled her eyes. 
Bad then.
 

“Where is the computer?”

“Forget that now.  It’s safe.  Anyway, that’s not what we’re talking about.”

“Then what?"

"Those things I said to cause us to argue, well it must have made Brian realise he has feelings for her." 
Or loves her.  The cow.

"Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't need to say it.  I just knew."  More pieces of her heart broke away.  "It hurts.  God, it hurts so bad.  Look what you've done."

"Whoa!  Don't blame me." 

She raised fiery eyes to his and practically growled, "I pushed them together, and you're the one who made me do it.  All for your stupid website."  She dropped down onto her leather sofa, hugged a cushion to her chin and sobbed into it.  “And after what I’ve just heard, I might never get him back.”

"That stupid website pays for your car, this house and everything in it."  He pointed to her designer handbag, the massive flat screen on the wall and her state-of-the-art sound system.  "I got us into this for us... for you."  He rubbed his stubbly chin and circled the room.  "But I need you to sort your head out, sis, or you’re gonna start slipping up.  What the hell does Brian see in that skinny bitch, anyway?"

"I'm way better," she muttered into the cushion.

"For sure," he said matter-of-factly.  "From what I know, she's a small town single mother who falls short of the mark on everything.  She struggles to pay her bills, failed marriage, lousy bloody cook..."

She glanced up.  "Cook?"

He gave a little laugh.  "Burns stuff.  Even water.  I’ve seen her do it."

Claire couldn't laugh even if she had wanted to.  Misery flooded her entire body.  Although she did take small crumbs of enjoyment from hearing Christa's faults being listed, she didn't know if she'd be able to laugh, or even smile ever again.  Perhaps she should have stuck with Harry and walked on by instead of stopping to chat to Brian that day he rolled up on the street.  Harry wouldn't have dumped her for another woman.  Never in a million.  He practically worshipped the air she breathed.  Claire was the hottest pair of legs that had ever opened up for him.  She loved how special Harry made her feel, but the thing was, when she met Brian, something gripped her, something powerful that she'd never experienced before.  Instantly, she craved more.

He cupped her face.  "I hate seeing you this way.  I'm going to teach him a lesson he'll never forget.  You should get some rest.  Take one of your pills."

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