The Boss. Caz Finlay
he smiled at everyone. Friends, acquaintances or strangers – it didn’t matter to Nathan, who was always equally comfortable in anyone’s presence. He was one of those people that everybody loved to be around – well almost everybody.
He was the first man she’d ever loved, the first man she’d ever made love to. The irony of that didn’t escape her. Because he was also the man who’d given her nightmares for the past nineteen years, the man she feared more than anyone or anything else in the world: her ex-husband, and the father of her only child. A shudder ran down the length of Grace’s spine as she remembered what he was capable of and what he would do if he ever found out about the things she’d done.
‘Another pint please, Grace,’ one of the regulars piped up, and the world around her came back into focus. She poured the drink as if on autopilot and smiled as the next customer signalled for some service, but her thoughts returned to Nathan. Released on licence from prison the week before, he was there to see their son, Jake. Eighteen years old and practically his father’s doppelganger. She hoped that Nathan had changed; after all, she had – a lot could happen in twelve years. His new girlfriend, Kayleigh, was with him. Grace assumed it was her at least. It didn’t escape her attention how young Kayleigh was. Beautiful too, and much more suited to Nathan in Grace’s opinion, with her long blonde hair, tiny waist and perfect figure.
Grace watched Jake as he fiddled with the collar of his shirt; so anxious for his father’s approval, it terrified her. What would their son do if he knew the truth about the man he idolized?
‘Dad!’ Jake beamed, his face full of adulation, as Nathan approached him and wrapped him in a bear hug. He tousled his son’s hair as though he were still a small child. They began talking animatedly, although Grace was too far away to hear their conversation. But she could see Jake visibly relax and the two of them were laughing. Kayleigh was smiling proudly as she took hold of Nathan’s arm, clinging onto him like a limpet.
Try as she might, Grace couldn’t seem to focus on any one task for too long. Shifting constantly from one job to another, clearing glasses, wiping spillages, serving customers. Stopping to chat from time to time, she found herself unable to hold even a simple conversation. She was about to ask one of the regulars, Crazy Len, just why he was wearing a flower in his lapel when the crowd parted, creating a direct path to the bar. Grace had only ever seen one man have that sort of effect on a crowded pub and he was making his way over towards her. She wanted to walk away and pretend she hadn’t seen them, but her legs were rooted to the spot. Feeling the once-familiar knot in her stomach, she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Her face frozen in some sort of non-expression, as though it was waiting to be told what the appropriate reaction should be.
‘Grace,’ Nathan smiled, all charm and perfect teeth. Taking her hand, he leaned in towards her. ‘You’ve let yourself go, haven’t you, love?’ he said quietly, before giving her a brief kiss on the cheek. He laughed; a sound she’d once mistaken for being warm and friendly, she now recognized as cruel and mocking.
She forced a smile in return. God, he was such an arrogant prick!
Grace noticed Kayleigh looking her up and down before extending her hand. Obviously, Kayleigh had decided that she was no threat to her. If only she knew.
Grace made some drinks for them; she didn’t usually drink when she was working, but she had a brandy. Pretended that she too was drinking to celebrate Nathan’s triumphant return, but it was a futile attempt to steady her nerves. For all intents and purposes they looked like any family, making polite conversation and laughing at each other’s jokes. Kayleigh and Nathan seemed happy and in love. But outward appearances could be deceiving. Grace, of all people, knew that. However, there was no reason to believe that Nathan wanted anything from her – not anymore. As far as he was concerned, she had nothing left to offer him. So, she went back to serving her customers, thankful that their first encounter in twelve years was as uneventful as she’d hoped. Nathan had moved on, and she was simply a footnote in his past.
As closing time approached, the pub was empty, except for Jake, Nathan and Kayleigh, who were huddled around a table in the corner. Grace wanted them to leave too so she could go upstairs and finish cashing up. She’d moved out of the flat above the pub two years earlier because living in such a small place with a stroppy teenager who enjoyed playing his music so loud it made the windows rattle, sometimes made her feel like the walls were closing in. But if Grace was honest, she’d always dreamed of owning a nice house with a garden, and a proper kitchen. Once Jake was old enough to look after himself in the evenings, she’d bought them a beautiful little detached house just outside Liverpool. She still used the flat for storage and as an office, and she stayed there occasionally when she was too tired to face the drive back home.
Approaching their table, she could see Jake grinning inanely. His head rolled around on his shoulders as though it were only held on by a piece of string.
‘You need to get yourself to bed and sleep this off,’ she told him, pulling him to his feet. ‘Nathan, can you make sure he gets home safely?’
‘Of course, Grace. I’ll look after my boy.’ Nathan slurred as he stood up and gave Jake a slap on the back.
Grace arranged a taxi for the three of them and they fell out of the pub into the warm night air.
Twenty minutes later Grace was closing the safe in the office upstairs when she heard the heavy tread of feet on the stairway, making her stop and freeze mid-motion. The doors were all locked, weren’t they? She was always so careful about that. Yes, she’d definitely locked the doors and set the alarm for the whole place, except for the back entrance to the flat. Besides, no one would be stupid enough to try and knock off the Rose and Crown. Would they? It must have been Jake coming back. Why had she relied on Nathan to get him home?
But what if it wasn’t Jake?
Picking up the golf club she kept in her office as a precaution, she edged away from the safe, fooling herself into believing that the piece of iron would offer some protection from whoever was walking up those stairs. Swearing under her breath, she realized she’d left her mobile phone in her handbag, which was hanging out of reach near the front door.
The door swung open to reveal a grinning Nathan. Jake’s keys dangled from his fingers. Her heart almost stopped. In an instant, she was transported back to a time when he would walk through that door, and she would experience that seemingly eternal moment of not knowing what type of mood he’d be in, in constant fear of what would happen next.
Grace’s mouth felt so dry she couldn’t even swallow, although she tried to anyway. She had to make a conscious effort to stop her hands from shaking, but she was not the same scared young girl he’d once known. The things she’d done, the choices she’d made – they had shaped her into a different person.
‘What do you want, Nathan? Where’s Jake?’
‘Relax, Grace. Kayleigh is taking him home, and I told her I was going to see an old friend. That’s true, isn’t it? We are old friends, aren’t we?’ He moved towards her and she bristled. ‘I thought you might like some company,’ he leered. ‘And I don’t mind slipping you one for old times’ sake.’
‘You’re drunk, Nathan. Please go home. Kayleigh will be waiting for you.’ She sighed, putting down the golf club; it offered her no protection against him.
‘Haven’t you missed me then?’
She laughed. It was a dangerous move, but she couldn’t help it. ‘Missed you? The man who made my life hell? No I really haven’t.’
He smiled and sat on the desk, before grabbing her by the hips and pulling her to him until she was standing between his legs. Moving his hands to her behind, he pressed her body into his groin until she could feel how hard he was. He smelled good, of soap and expensive aftershave. The heat from his hands penetrated the thin fabric of her skirt. She used to love those hands, the feel of them on her skin, in her hair, on the small of her back. Hands that once knew her so intimately.
Looking into his eyes, she saw they were glassy from the whisky he’d been drinking, and who knew