ABC tales serial (alternative) part 4

The first thing that struck me when I woke was the pain. That old chair wasn’t really comfortable to sit in let alone fall asleep in. I groaned as, stiff muscles protesting I sat up. I looked at my watch, 8:03 am. God what a night, but at least Susan hadn't had the nightmare again. I looked over at the bed, it was neatly made, and the clothes I’d given her the night before were neatly folded on the pillow. I stood up quickly, the blanket I’d dragged over myself the night before fell to the floor. Had she left then, as suddenly as she’d arrived?
Then the smell of frying bacon reached my nose. I padded quietly to the kitchen door. Susan was there, dressed again in her clothes from the night before (Now clean and dried). Busy at the cooker. I stood for a moment in silence watching her. How many times had I dreamed of this?
“What are you doing?” I asked finally.
She jumped in surprise at the sound of my voice and when she turned to face me her cheeks were coloured.
“I thought you might like some breakfast. I wasn’t going to wake you until it was all ready.”
I scratched my head absently, “Breakfast.”
She nodded, “Yeah, you know bacon, eggs, coffee, toast.”
“I don’t have any bacon.” Rubbing my face. It was a stupid thing to say, especially given that the rashers were sizzling away in the frying pan.
“You didn’t have anything. Except corned beef.” She cocked her head to one side, “Lots of corned beef, you must really like the stuff.”
I walked over to the fridge, “I can take it or leave it, but he…” I pointed at the expectant Glen, “…and his brother love it.” I pulled open the fridge door and stood staring. What had once been a gaping chasm of emptiness with only the aforementioned corned beef, a bottle of mineral water and if luck was really in; a bottle of milk was now full of… Everything.

A glass of orange juice appeared below my nose. “It’s a good job you said that otherwise I would’ve thought you starved them. Don’t you ever by any food?”
I opened my mouth to reply, feeling that perhaps I should go back to bed but she was already talking again, “Well, anyway I went out and got some stuff from the 24 hour mart. I didn’t know what you liked so I got a little of everything. That bread you made the toast with last night was two days beyond due date you know.” After I’d taken the proffered glass of juice (More out of reflex than anything else.) she had turned back to preparing the breakfast.
So there I stood, half-dressed, half-awake in my own kitchen while she bustled about. The whole situation was slightly surreal.
“There was nothing wrong with that bread.” I said somewhat defensively. After all, she had eaten it.
She turned to face me again, one hand on hip the other holding a non-stick fish slice. “Go get showered and dressed, breakfast will be ready by then.”

I gave up; I put the untouched orange juice on the counter and ambled into my bedroom. Being an author and, hence my own boss had its perks – chief among them was that for me the day usually started about10 am and ended about 5 am. I liked it that way; I was used to it that way. Shep opened one eye from where he lay on my bed and that look made it clear that as far as he was concerned a change was not as good as a rest.
I hooked my other robe from the back of the door and went into the bathroom. The mirror was still misted and the shower pan was still wet. I was surprised; Susan had managed to get out of bed, shower and go out without me waking. I must have been more tired than I realised.
I swiped my hand across the mirror and stood looking at myself. I needed a shave that much was clear. Gingerly I touched my lip, the swelling had gone down but it was still tender to touch. Memories of the night before filled my thoughts as I applied the foam and started shaving. It was like there were two different people; the scared, bruised, vulnerable woman of last night and the self-confident woman cooking breakfast. The latter was more like the Susan I had known, but I was sure that it was also the facade.
I had just slipped off my robe and stepped under the shower when the bathroom door opened. Susan’s head poked through, “Breakfast is ready, get a move on.” Before I could say or do anything the door closed once more. Mental note, remember to lock the door.

I showered quickly and dressed even quicker. Susan was sitting at the table when I came back into the kitchen but she hadn’t started eating, instead she sat staring into nothing, sipping on her coffee.
“This looks great.” I said eyeing the plate of bacon and eggs. Her eyes focused on me and then looked away again.
“I’m sorry about bothering you in the shower, I should’ve… knocked.”

At first I thought she was joking but she wasn’t (that mood shift again)
“I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” I replied lightly.
And what’s that supposed to mean?!” She snapped, her face flushed.
I was taken aback by her sudden anger.
“Nothing.” I said somewhat defensively. But she wasn’t about to let it drop.
“God, you’re all alike, all you think about is sex!”
I held out my hands placatingly, “Hey, take it easy okay, it was just a joke. That’s all.”
She sat silent a moment, “I’m sorry.” She said finally her voice more controlled. “I over-reacted. Aren’t you going to eat your breakfast?” She motioned to the plate of food.
To tell you the truth, her outburst had made me lose my appetite but I decided that it wouldn’t be politic to say so, so I dug in. Whatever Susan’s faults were, she could cook and make a mean cup of coffee and I managed, much to my own surprise, to clean my plate. Susan only picked at hers, the dogs getting most of her bacon. Throughout the meal neither of us spoke; me out of fear of her reaction and her – well I wasn’t all that sure. All I did know was that something was very wrong with Susan Clark.
As soon as I’d finished my coffee I stood and started shifting the dirty dishes into the sink.
“I’ll do that.” Susan said standing too.
“Fairs fair,” I replied, “You cooked I’ll clean.”
For a moment I thought she would argue the point but in the end, she sat back down, clutching her coffee mug in both hands.

As I washed the dishes I was aware that she was watching me silently. I was confused, did she expect me to do something, say something?
“I can’t figure you out, do you know that?”
I didn’t turn round, “What’s to figure?”
“I treated you like dirt when we were at university, and since turning up at your door last night; I’ve nearly punched you out, made you sleep in a very uncomfortable chair and I’m constantly biting your head off. Why are you putting up with it, with me?”
I dried my hands and turned around, doing my best to keep my face neutral. She was leaning on the table with her elbows staring intently at me. “Why?” She repeated.
I shrugged uncomfortably, “Does it matter?”
“I was raped.” The words burst from her lips quickly, almost tumbling into each other. Her eyes weren’t focused on me, but seemed to be looking straight through me.
Those words; out of the blue shocked me and for a moment I didn’t think I’d heard her right. I open my mouth to say… I don’t know what. But before I could gather my thoughts she had stood and brushed past me.
“I have to go out, I’ll be back later.”
I turned quickly. “Susan…”
She paused at the door, “Later.” Before I could reply she had disappeared I heard the front door slam.
I flopped down onto a chair. Raped! No wonder she was so messed up emotionally. I felt a surge of anger and my first impulse was to run out after her, to find out who had done it, to get the Bastard’s name… I sighed heavily fighting the anger down. No, that wouldn’t solve anything, more important now was Susan. I resisted the urge to go after her. It had been hard for her to tell me, a virtual stranger. I knew she needed some time away from me to deal with it so, fighting to stop myself asking useless questions I went into the living room and sat down in front of my PC. I was already getting behind schedule on my latest novel.