A Chance Encounter Rae Shaw (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

way down on the reserve list. He rolled his eyes to the kitchen lights.

‘This man you invited,’ Mark couldn’t care less about her sensibilities, ‘did you fuck?’

‘No!’ she said indignantly. ‘He's somebody I met out jogging. We've passed each other a few times. Caught our breath, you know, and chatted.’ Her voice slurred again. ‘He runs for an athletics club. Does marathons. The London marathon. I want to do it.’

‘Jesus, Ellen,’ he muttered. Things were far worse than he thought. He had underestimated Ellen's weakness for alcohol. He couldn't demand she move in with him, but the sooner the better. The issue was no longer about unity and handling Deidre – Ellen was too broken to cope with their mother – it was about providing her with stability. Julianna would understand and it wasn't as if she came to his flat often. They preferred hers as it was closer to the office.

If Ellen did take up his offer, he would have to ensure she understood there would be no inviting men around at short notice, regardless of their sexual orientation.

She hiccupped. ‘I'm not that drunk.’

He didn't agree. ‘You're absolutely sure that he didn't fuck you?’ Would she know? Had he slipped her a pill or something?

She whispered, sheepishly. ‘I did some things. A couple of things with him.’

Mark closed his eyes. ‘Did he force you to do them?’

‘No.’ She seemed adamant on that; he had to believe her. ‘He'll not be happy with me.’

‘Why? I don't understand.’

‘I was mad at him. He's so pompous sometimes and telling me that I'm good, when I know I'm bad, and that I should stay safe, like I'm a kid.’

Mark lowered his glass of water. The pain now was focused quite brilliantly on one spot and growing bigger by the minute. ‘You're not making sense, Ellen.’ The jogging friend was more than a passing acquaintance. This person was offering the kind of advice Mark would give and at the same time, preying on Ellen's vulnerabilities.

‘He's a good friend, but he lives in Ireland.’

‘Oh, for fuck's sake, Ellen. Stop winding me up. You're drunk. We'll talk when you're sober.’

‘I'm not winding you up. He's been so good to me and there so few people out there for me when it matters.’

‘I'm here, aren't I? Hardly that far away.’

She spoke the truth, though. For years, he had no clue about her friends. This Irishman, whoever he was, had encouraged her to do something sexual, something that she was ashamed to admit to, especially to her older brother. Where were her girlfriends? Women did this kind of stuff – hand holding and tissues. He should introduce Ellen to Julianna. Immediately, he dismissed the idea. He wanted to keep things as simple as possible with Julianna and the less complications, the better. He had already made an error taking Ellen to Razzles and expecting her to slot into that crowd. He had wasted the opportunity to make an impression with Haynes. If he had wanted to have a good time, he should have taken Julianna. What Ellen needed was somebody who talked about things she enjoyed doing, like marathons, or digging in the dirt for lost objects.

‘You should have a shower, or something. If it helps.’ He checked the wall clock; he’d an early meeting. ‘I have to go to bed. You'll be okay, yes?’

She sniffed, drowsily.

He left the glass in the sink and padded back to his bedroom. ‘Or perhaps, just go to sleep.’ His efforts to reach out to her seemed futile. Why had he bothered? There were other more important things to discuss. ‘You got the message about the boxes? The solicitor?’ he asked.

‘Yes. Deidre's happy, I assume.’

‘No.’ He guffawed. ‘This is Mum.’

‘Then burn them. Burn the fucking lot.’ She spoke venomously, without one hint of drunkenness.

He didn’t care for the familiar angry flare of her voice. ‘This is the last time, though. I told her, that's it. If Sophia finds nothing new, then, yes, we'll burn it all. We'll light a bonfire somewhere. Okay?’

‘I don't believe you. You'll never do it. You don't want to do it. You're just like her; head up your arse.’

‘Sober up. The offer still stands, but you've got to get a grip on this… whatever this is or whoever is fucking with you.’

She hung up without saying goodbye.

Ellen had managed for years without him. He had made his offer and it was there on the table if she wanted it. At the end of the day, she was an adult and had made little effort to reach out to him for years. Why wouldn’t he do the same? Let her play around with strangers, as long as they enjoyed it, did it matter? He wasn't an angel himself and his relationship with Julianna was casual and low-key. If Ellen drank, then it was her choice. Julianna would disagree, but then Julianna wasn't part of his family. And what was the point of families anyway? Mark had stepped into Bill's shoes and they didn't fit, which pleased Mark no end.

~ * ~

There were no more drunken calls from Ellen. Perhaps, he hoped, that one night had sobered her up. Young people made mistakes and Ellen was at that experimental stage. Mark had been through it and done things he regretted, both professionally and personally. He had more important things to consider, like staying in Jackson's eyeline, which was proving to be a challenge.

Mark rarely came across Jackson at work, which wasn’t surprising, the man ruled a business empire and Mark’s team was one small cog in the machine. Equally, he rarely bumped into Julianna. If they saw each other in the office building, they walked past each other with a cursory nod and perhaps a small smile of recognition. They’d agreed to keep things under the radar of their