Spoilt Read online

  Stop it, Chelsea, he’s gone.

  The second Chelsea pulled to a stop, her sister ran out to meet her. Charlotte wrapped her in a big bear hug as Chelsea climbed from the car.

  Charlotte’s curly strawberry-blonde hair bounced and her dark brown eyes sparkled as she gave Chelsea an animated update on the latest gossip. Her chatter remained constant as she strode towards the house. Chelsea, considerably shorter than her tall, slim sister, quickened her steps to keep up. As they entered the large hall, a fluffy grey cat wandered in and wound his way around Chelsea’s legs.

  “Hello, Sebastian.” Chelsea beamed as she picked up their beloved pet. “It has been so long since I’ve seen you.”

  Chelsea placed Sebastian down as Sarah’s short, petite frame rushed down the stairs, to embrace her eldest child.

  “Oh, darling, I’m so glad you’re finally here. I was beginning to worry.” Her brow creased. “I wish you would leave earlier and get here before dark.”

  “I couldn’t close early today. I had to finish some bouquets for a wedding this weekend.”

  The arrangements were for her shop, Bloom, which she’d bought with the help of a business loan, several years before. Chelsea took pride in what she’d achieved without the aid of her wealthy parents.

  “You work too hard, Chelsea. Maybe you should hire more help.” Sarah stopped. Chelsea’s expression silenced her. “Very well, no lecture. Let’s go and locate our men.”

  The girls followed their mother toward the study while Charlotte continued to update Chelsea. “You’re not going to believe this but Evan is already seeing Sasha Brooks.”

  “You broke up about three weeks ago, didn’t you? I thought it wasn’t that serious.”

  “That is not the point. I broke up with him and he still should be heartbroken.”

  “Aren’t you already interested in someone else?”

  “Once again that is not the point.” She pouted her full lips before stomping into the study.

  Chelsea laughed, amused by her sister’s latest folly. As she followed Charlotte into the room that had always been their sanctuary, the comforting warmth surrounded her. The blazing fire from the hearth produced an inviting glow.

  Her grandfather, Harold, sat in one of the comfortable leather chairs by the fire, drinking his ritual nightcap of brandy. His thick beard always ready to tickle your cheek and his wavy grey hair was, as usual, in disarray. Chelsea always found her Pa to be an uplifting sight.

  Her father, Bradley, sat opposite, attempting to read a book. His lanky frame filled the chair, while his dark wavy hair crept down his face as he came very close to snoozing.

  Chelsea’s brother, Hayden, a younger version of his father, lay on the adjacent couch with iPod plugs in his ears. He thumped out a beat on his legs.

  Seeing her baby brother, ten years her junior at fifteen, always brought forth familiar tender feelings. She’d loved to mother him as a child.

  Hearing the women enter the room, Bradley’s eyes sprang open as though he wasn’t about to doze off and Harold beamed at her.

  “Come over here and give your old Pa a kiss.”

  Chelsea walked over to give her grandfather an affectionate cuddle and kiss. “Hi Pa, it is so good to see you. Hope you’ve been good.”

  “Never. I have to keep Mrs. Simpson down the road on her toes.”

  Chelsea laughed and proceeded to her father. “Hi, Dad,” she said giving him a squeeze. “I’ve missed you; it’s nice to be home.”

  “We miss you too, honey. It has been far too long.”

  Chelsea glanced over at Hayden, who was still playing a drum solo and totally oblivious to anything happening around him.

  “Hayden,” Sarah yelled.

  “Huh?” he yelled over the music. “What?” He opened his eyes and seeing his sister, pulled the plugs out of his ears. “Hi, Sis.”

  Chelsea walked over to her brother and kissed him on the top of his head. “Hey, Hads.”

  “Now I can go to bed?” he mumbled.

  Hayden unfolded his long, lean frame from the couch and trundled out of the study and upstairs to his room in the left wing of the house.

  “So full of conversation, our Hayden,” said Sarah, rolling her eyes.

  “He’s a teenager, Mum. I don’t remember being much better. Cut him some slack.”

  “I do, Chelsea, but sometimes trying to talk to him is like pulling teeth.”

  Chelsea curled up on the couch her brother had vacated, happiness warming her as she listened to the chatter around her. For the first time in months she felt relaxed and comfortable. She soon discovered her eyes growing heavy.

  Through her sleep haze Chelsea heard her name and opened her eyes to see Sarah’s kind face beside hers.

  “I think perhaps you should go off to bed, honey, especially if you want to get an early start in the garden tomorrow.”

  She glanced around to discover only Sarah and Charlotte were still up.

  She said goodnight before heading up the staircase to her old room still painted mauve with butterfly motifs adorning the walls from her teenage years. Her white canopy bed draped with sheer curtains looked inviting as always. Remembering her suitcase, she turned to retrieve it from the car and paused when she saw it on the seat by the window. Probably brought up by Bradley. She smiled.

  As she prepared for sleep, she tried to ignore the memories of Wes. They troubled her most in this room. She recalled their last visit together when he’d proposed to her on the balcony, under a star-filled sky.

  After the family celebrations, they had laid together on this very bed. His broad shoulders were facing her as he propped up on one arm beside her, staring at her with his pale blue eyes. His straight blonde hair fell over one eye as he grinned at her in his boyish, charming way. How they’d gazed at each other filled with love, unable to contain their happiness and excitement about the prospect of a life together.

  If he wanted a life with you, why did he leave? Why can’t I forget him? It’s been a year. I’ve gotten on with my life, run the shop, kept busy but he just keeps creeping back in. Stop it, Chelsea, he’s gone, get over it.

  Feeling fatigued, she closed her eyes and tried to block out the memories.

  * * *

  Lucas

  Friday

  Her hug was warm and he brimmed with comfort and love. She kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair. He scoffed a little but he loved her attention nevertheless. She waved goodbye, her eyes filled with motherly love as she told him not to be late.

  As her face began to fade, the house disappeared and as he spun around, he realised where he was. He rushed to where she lay crumpled on the floor, her blood so dark it looked black. Her hazel eyes stared lifeless while he held her cold hand. His clothes became soaked with her blood as he drew her close. He hoped in vain her heart would still beat or her eyes would fill with warmth. He never wanted to let her go, even as the kind voices urged him to do so. He didn’t want them to take his mother away.

  Lucas jolted upright, bathed in sweat. The dreams had returned after years of silence, the horror re-emerging. The memories fresh as though it happened yesterday. His chest ached and his eyes stung. He breathed deeply, trying to slow down his rapid beating heart.

  Now that his dreams were haunting him again, he began to doubt, for the first time since receiving his badge, his capacity to continue with the case. He was beginning to lose focus, his edge. When conscious he could escape but now the nightmares had returned and sleep was no longer his friend.

  Chapter 4

  Hope

  Saturday

  The sun streamed through the window and the birds chirped their morning songs. Chelsea sat up and stretched languidly. She gazed out the window and the colourful spacious back garden greeted her with its assortment of annuals and perennials along with the numerous hedges edging the yard. Pottering around in the garden with Sarah and Charlotte would be just the therapy she needed today. Filled with sudden enthusiasm, Chelsea went
down the hall to shower.

  The smell of waffles and pancakes intoxicated her as she descended the stairs. As she followed her nose, she heard her mum singing along with the radio blasting from the bench and smiled.

  She spotted Hayden first, slouching on a stool at the breakfast counter, scoffing down a pile of pancakes. Charlotte sat in her pyjamas next to him, drinking coffee, and attempting to wake up.

  Her pa and dad were sitting at the table discussing issues from the newspaper and not agreeing. Sarah swung her hips in time to the music, which accompanied her humming and singing as she flipped pancakes at the stove. Chelsea grinned at the welcoming scene.

  “Well this is a sight for sore eyes,” Chelsea said as she entered the kitchen.

  She was greeted by her family in various fashions.

  Chelsea slid onto the stool beside Charlotte. When her stomach growled she discovered she was as hungry as her brother appeared to be and devoured her awaiting breakfast.

  “Thanks, Mum, that was great.”

  “You’re welcome, dear. Why don’t you head out to the garden while I clean up in here?”

  “What are you up to today, Charlotte?” asked Chelsea turning to her not quite awake sister.

  “Give me another half an hour and I’ll help you.”

  “Good, we can catch up some more. What about you, Hads?”

  “What?” he said glancing up from - was that more pancakes? “Um, I have to do some study otherwise I can’t go to the movies tonight with Josh,” he mumbled looking at Sarah with distaste.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Hayden. The rules were the same for the girls.”

  “You bet they were,” Charlotte grumbled.

  “I’d better get started, then. It looks like you two have been a bit neglectful of the garden lately.”

  Chelsea’s mind drifted back to Wes again as she attacked the garden and pulled out stubborn weeds. She remembered him doting on her as she completed the very same tasks. He’d fetched her drinks, wiped her sweaty brow and lovingly made and brought her lunch. She thought they’d been so happy together.

  They’d spent the afternoon hours chatting in relaxed comfort until she’d finally, after almost three years, asked about his family. He’d never spoken of any living relatives and she’d thought, now they were engaged, she ought to know this much about him. When the subject was broached he’d become very touchy so she hadn’t asked again.

  Wes had always been awestruck by the Summerville’s wealth and rightly so, she supposed. She wondered whether this had anything to do with his family. She’d received a privileged life but never took anything for granted and understood how fortunate she was. Chelsea, Charlotte and Hayden never went without or wanted for anything. Her entire family had and still worked hard. Her parents and her grandparents before them were dedicated to providing the best possible upbringing they could for their children. Chelsea was well aware of how daunting it could be to some.

  Many people over the years resented or were jealous of her birthright and while at school the taunts were prevalent. Chelsea was often hurt by the derision, nonetheless it made her more determined to go out on her own and rely less on her parents. Despite the fact that her parents owned the house where Chelsea and Elle lived, she insisted on paying her half of the rent. She knew them to be proud of her independence and her need to pay her own way, although they didn’t want or need her to.

  When Charlotte and Sarah joined her, Chelsea shook away the painful memories and settled into the tasks ahead. The women spent the remainder of the fine, warm day catching up and Chelsea began to feel lighter in her heart. Being around her family always lifted her spirits. As usual, Charlotte did more talking than weeding and Chelsea was warmed by the familiarity of her perpetual entertainment.

  That night, exhausted after a day in the garden and full after a nice dinner with numerous debates, the girls settled in the large sitting room, with a bottle of wine and their favourite movies.

  Hayden completed his studies as promised and had gone to the movies. Harold and Bradley had settled in the study for the evening. It was just as it had always been. Chelsea thought perhaps the last of her scars were finally beginning to heal.

  * * *

  Lucas

  Saturday

  Lucas couldn’t sleep again, afraid of what the night would bring. His mind swirled with images of their lifeless bodies. The familiarity of the case was troubling him and sleepless nights were doing little to help.

  He considered blocking out the images which were refusing to leave him alone with a sexy brunette. Lucas wondered whether getting up and going out to pick up any random girl to occupy his mind and fill his bed would help. He couldn’t remember the last girl he’d brought home to his near-empty apartment when he thought a roll in the hay might relieve some stress.

  He finally decided against the idea as another girl with a name he wouldn’t remember or would never see again would be a pointless waste of energy. Besides they usually wanted to experience the re-run and he was not in the mood to deal with any strings or scorned women. He couldn’t be bothered to be polite as he refused a second round. He was too tired to be nice.

  Did he crave someone to share his life and burdens with, or was he just lonely? With haste he shook off the whimsical notions. He didn’t get involved. Being too close to anyone, and then losing them, hurt way too much.

  Wandering around his barren apartment like a lost child, Lucas considered a walk to the corner shop, falling back on the old habit. Cigarettes brought the burn to his lungs, brought the physical pain which masked the emotional one, even if was only for a few minutes. Lucas decided against this too. He’d kicked that habit and wanted to leave it behind, so he tried the next best thing.

  First, he did push-ups till his chest burned and the sweat stung his eyes. Turning over he did crunches until the pain washed over him and all he could think and feel was the ache. Chin-ups and more push-ups followed until his body protested and sweat drenched his skin. It didn’t help. Nothing seemed to stem the hollowness in his chest, the empty feeling as though something was missing. He was used to feeling numb and for years had stumbled through his life without feeling.

  An icy shower prolonged the ache in his muscles but didn’t alleviate the empty hole in his soul. Did he really want to be alone? His thoughts drifted back to the possibility of letting someone into his life, so he stuck his head under the cold water and buried his longing.

  Fatigued, Lucas fell into bed, attempting to clear his mind and obtain some much needed rest. But he knew it would simply bring the demons.

  * * *

  Sunday

  After having breakfast the following morning, the sisters decided to do some window shopping. Neither Chelsea nor Charlotte could ever say no to a relaxing Sunday, walking the streets and perusing the local wares.

  “So how’s your love life?” Charlotte asked in her typical inquisitive way.

  “Fine thanks.”

  “Meaning you have none, right?

  “I don’t have the time or inclination. I have family, Bloom and friends. I don’t need anything else.”

  “Chelsea hasn’t it been a year? Just get over it already.”

  “It has nothing to do with Wesley. I’m just not interested,” Chelsea said a little too bitingly. “Oh, Sylvia’s shop looks great. I love the bag in the window. It would go great with my brown boots.”

  “Yeah, it’s great. I get the hint, Chels. I’ll butt out.”

  “Thanks. So who’s your new guy?”

  “Well, he’s not mine yet, but give me time. His name’s Scott and he’s in one of my classes. He’s really smart and so cute. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him before.”

  “You were pretty wrapped up in Evan.”

  “Yeah I suppose, but I don’t usually miss someone so hot.”

  They both laughed, which turned into a fit of giggles and Chelsea couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard with her sister. The rest of the
afternoon was spent catching up and walking through the quiet streets.

  * * *

  Later that day, Chelsea sat in the study reading her favourite book from the collection when her Pa sought her out. When he sat in the chair opposite, she closed her book and waited. She knew this meant there was something he wanted to say. Harold had been a psychiatrist before retiring many years before and Chelsea appreciated and trusted his advice, as did the rest of the family.

  “Chelsea, you still don’t appear to be your old self yet.”

  “No, Pa, I’m not quite there yet. I still miss Wes. I realise it’s been a year but I loved him. I wanted to marry him more than anything in the world. I don’t understand why he left and like he did.”

  “Chelsea, his soul was troubled. I don’t believe he would have made you happy, not long term anyway.”

  “Yes, he was sometimes very edgy, but it added to his charm.”

  “Time heals, Chelsea, and I believe you will find the right man for you.”

  “I thought that was Wes.”

  “No, I don’t believe that to be so. You are a beautiful, sweet, lovable girl and you will know when the time comes.”

  “I hope so, Pa. You know it has always been hard for me to trust. There have been a lot of people in the past who only befriended me because of all this.”

  “Yes it is hard to know whether people’s intentions are always the right ones. You can’t close yourself off just in case though.”

  “I’m scared of being hurt again.”

  “I know you are, but we just want to see you happy. It’s time to let go.” He smiled and left her with her book.