An Unexpected Gift Read online

  "Yes. Can I help you?" Her tone was rushed and impatient; her manner irritated.

  Feeling even tinier than she had a few seconds ago, Caitlin held out her bright red and shiny Christmas bag, inside which were the chocolates. The woman looked down at them, then up again at Caitlin. She sniffed her nose. "Sorry, do I know you?"

  Caitlin opened her mouth but her voice came out in a pathetic whimper. She felt tiny compared to this Amazonian blonde who stood before her. "I-I wondered whether….if Daniel was at home?" she asked, her voice barely audible. The other woman blinked, then blinked again and fixed Caitlin with an indifferent stare. But she didn’t say anything.

  Fumbling around for the rights words, Caitlin cleared her throat. "I wanted to know if he was alright." She didn't feel it was appropriate to say any more than that. She had not accounted for the possibility that Daniel might be married or have a family. If she had, she would never have turned up on his doorstep unannounced at all.

  Yet what did it matter if he was attached? She wasn't here to ensnare him.

  Finally, after an excruciating silence, the woman said curtly, “Come in," and showed Caitlin to the second room on the right.

  "Someone to see you," she barked, peeping her head inside the door and then abruptly left. Hesitantly, Caitlin walked in and saw Daniel sitting in an armchair with a copy of The National Geographic magazine in his hands.

  As soon as he saw her his face eased into a soft smile and his blue eyes sparkled. “Caitlin,” he said in a friendly tone. He seemed pleased to see her but was having trouble getting up out of his armchair.

  "No, please, don't," said Caitlin, rushing forward and helping him back down again. She hadn't realised before how tall he actually was. For the brief moment that he had managed to stand up, he had towered over her.

  "I'm so sorry for barging in on you like this," she gasped, feeling foolish again as she held out the chocolates. "A little thank you gift, for the other day. I know we didn't get to speak much in hospital." He watched her keenly, his cool blue eyes fixed on her face. It was the first time that they had both been able to get a proper look at one another, now that their obvious injuries had subsided. His short blond hair suited his blue eyes which now looked at her with interest, as if seeing her properly for the first time.

  "Thanks Caitlin, you really shouldn't have," he said, taking the bag from her and peeking inside. "Thornton's, very kind of you. Thank you," he repeated, before closing the magazine and placing it on the table beside him.

  Neat and tidy, thought Caitlin as she watched him. "They told me you had a couple of fractured ribs."

  "Not broken thankfully. I'm fine, really, I just need to get some rest and I should be as good as new again."

  "It must have ruined your Christmas," said Caitlin fidgeting with the buckle on her knee high black boots.

  He didn’t say anything but smiled at her and she couldn’t tell how much or how little she had ruined Christmas for him. He glanced at her, taking in how slim and small she was. So petite and very elfin like, except for her long brown hair. He had not been able to get that first image of her out of his head. When she had been on the floor, her face smeared in blood and the man had dragged her by her hair across the ground. He never forgot the terror in her eyes when he had come upon her. It often kept him awake during the night.

  Now that she was here, in his living room, he wanted to change that image for this one of Caitlin, looking well again, and better, even though she seemed a little nervous.

  "Are you alright now?" he asked her graciously. She could tell that he was still in obvious pain because he would stop every now and then and grimace.

  “I’m not in pain like you Daniel. It’s just the emotional scars that need time to heal.”

  He shook his head. "I’m sorry it happened to you, to anyone. I don’t understand men like that."

  Caitlin put her hands together on her lap as she often did when she didn't know what to do with them. “Plenty of them around,” she replied vaguely before her eyes fell on a photo on the mantelpiece of the two of them, Daniel and the woman, on their wedding day.

  They were so similar, tall, blonde and good looking and they clearly looked so happy together.

  Noticing that Caitlin had seen the picture Daniel added, “That’s Marisa.”

  “She’s beautiful,” replied Caitlin turning to look at him again, “You make a lovely couple.”

  He looked at her oddly, with neither a smile nor anything else. It was a face that said nothing and she could not decipher what was behind the mask.

  Lucky woman, thought Caitlin, before turning her gaze back onto the photo.

  The sound of a mobile phone ringing in the hallway and Marisa answering it reminded them that they were not alone. There was a silence then. It was an odd feeling to be sitting in a total stranger's living room, knowing that his wife or partner outside was probably wondering what on earth she was doing here.

  Caitlin coughed lightly, "I didn't know what to say to your wife,” she said apologetically. The woman hadn’t seemed very friendly. Caitlin didn't expect that she would be any more welcoming herself if a strange woman turned up on her doorstep one day, if and when she was married.

  They glanced at each other and the awkward silence left them both looking for a topic to talk about to break it. Finally he asked, "Are they going to press any charges?"

  "No. I haven't heard anything further from the police. Did you?"

  "No. But the holidays would have slowed things down."

  "True," she agreed, "And it's New Year's Eve today."

  "So it is."

  "Well, I’d better get going. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright. I'll always be eternally grateful to you. I was scared for my life that night. And you saved me. I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t turned up when you did."

  "I'm glad I was there. I hadn’t realised you were so …..petite," he said, and Caitlin blushed. Seeing her discomfort he slowly got up and said "You’re looking really well, Caitlin. You're fine. Nothing else matters."

  "Yes," said Caitlin in agreement, picking up her handbag and wrapping her warm, woolen scarf around her neck. "Please, rest up now. I can see myself out."

  "You sure? It hurts to move around."

  "No, I insist. Happy New Year Daniel." Caitlin gazed across the room at him and watched as he struggled to sit back down again. The last time she had seen him his face had been swollen and bloody and bruised.

  "Happy New Year, Caitlin."

  She looked up in surprise. "How did you know my-?"

  "The police officer told me. For some reason, they thought we were a couple."

  At the thought of them being a couple, Caitlin blushed. And when she saw him seeing her blush, her blush deepened. She wished she could sink beneath the floorboards at that very moment.

  He smiled at her, sensing her unease. “I had wondered how you found out my address. But the policeman told me that you had put him right when he assumed I was your boyfriend."

  My boyfriend. If only I had met someone as nice as you.

  He was married and he obviously thought it was funny that she had shown up like this at his house. He probably had no shortage of girls lining up for him. And no wonder Marisa looked so annoyed when she had turned up unannounced. "I, I’m so sorry for turning up like this,” she stammered, wanting to get out as fast as possible.

  "Don't be Caitlin, I'm glad you did.” They stared at each other but Caitlin looked away first. The wedding photo of the two of them in front of her was a timely reminder that he was already taken.

  “To be honest, I had been thinking about you and wondering if you were alright.” Yeah, sure you were. You’re only saying that to make me feel better.

  "Bye now," said Caitlin stepping out into the hallway without so much as a backward glance. She paused awhile in the hallway and looked towards the other end. But Marisa was nowhere to be seen. Caitlin showed herself out quickly.

 
Back at her flat, Caitlin spent the remainder of New Year's Eve curled up in front of the sofa watching “Ghost.”

  She hadn’t been able to watch any romantic films when she had been with Carl. He wasn’t one to care too much about what she liked or didn’t like. It had always been his choice. And it had always been films she hated, Korean films, violent, martial arts films or deeply disturbing and sick films such as “Old Boy.” Sick, vomit-inducing stuff.

  She finished off the entire bag of toffee flavored popcorn and watched Demi Moore’s huge eyes well up with tears yet again.

  She missed Kerrie but knew that if Kerrie were here she would suggested that they both go out to a pub or wine bar with friends to see the New Year in. As it was, Caitlin was tired from her trip to see Daniel earlier today. She felt glad she had gone to see him and that he was well.

  But he was married to Marisa, and as much as he had been a knight in shining armor for her, she knew she wouldn’t see him again.

  Chapter Four

  Daniel had ended up spending the night of the attack in hospital. He had fractured ribs which meant that he would need rest and wasn’t allowed to perform any physical work.

  Although he had taken a really bad beating, he felt sure that he had given the other man a good pounding too, of that he was sure, for the man had limped away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

  The thing he was most grateful about, though, was that he had been driving around the streets of London at that time of night.

  Lately, getting out of his house and escaping from Marisa was something he found himself doing more often. Even if he got back from work around nine or ten most evenings, he found he couldn’t bear to be in the house with her anymore. He didn’t want to be out drinking with his friends all night either. He needed to be sharp and with it at work the next day.

  Working as an investment banker with a prestigious American Bank in the heart of the city was starting to take its toll on him. Money was no longer motivation enough for him to put up with the long hours, the stress and the cut throat life that his job entailed. It might have been the type of career he wanted in his early twenties but now, poised to hit thirty in a few months time, Daniel found himself questioning his life, his values and his dreams. Slogging his guts out earning hefty bonuses in the corporate world wasn’t it anymore.

  As he lay in his hospital bed that night, Daniel thought about his desire to escape both his daily life at work and his life at home. Nothing gave him peace anymore. The fights with Marisa were getting to be a regular occurrence. The sad thing for him was that they had been married less than a year. Sad because Daniel had really believed at one time that she had been the perfect one for him. Sad because everything in Daniel’s life up to now had gone according to plan; things had worked out for him. He had attended the right private schools, gotten into Oxford, fallen into a fast paced highly paid job, moved to an affluent part of London and met the perfect beautiful blonde. Daniel had never known of failure before.

  Initially his friends had been shocked when he told them he had proposed to his girlfriend; it had all happened so quickly. The truth of the matter was that he had fallen in love with the strikingly beautiful language teacher who was also a part-time model. It had been a bit of a whirlwind romance for them both but he'd found her to be witty, sexy and loving. At least, that was the side of her that he had seen at first.

  They had started out as such great friends and the relationship had gradually and easily moved onto the next stage. He didn't see the point of waiting around. He thought he had found the one. But she had changed so much a few months after the wedding. Where there was kindness and wit before, now he found only a short temper and mood swings. He couldn't believe the sudden change in her. Until he found out that she was smoking cannabis, usually at the end of a photo shoot and so easily obtainable from the types of people at these places.

  At first she was normal. Relaxed and happy to be around; he didn’t even know when she started. But as time went on she became moody and anxious, accusing him of things and being hard to be around. He had tried to help her but she was fixated on becoming a full-time model. Their rows became frequent and had escalated during the last three months, when he had found out that Marisa had been cheating on him. The brazen hussy had more or less admitted it to him herself one night when she got back late, reeking of pot.

  She had become extra friendly with the photographer she was using to put her portfolio together. And once Daniel found out that she had been unfaithful, he had quickly lost any respect for his wife. He regretted their whirlwind romance and the speed with which their relationship had quickly descended into the gutter. It made him mistrust women and he had resolved to stay away from relationships for a while.

  On the night of the attack he had been driving around again. It was an excuse to get out of the house and to clear his head. Marisa had been drunk and unabashedly spiteful that evening. He had given her an ultimatum to leave his house; the property was his after all. She could crawl back into the photographer’s arms for all he cared.

  He wanted his home and his life back.

  As he drove aimlessly around Tower Hill, the lights along the river and the familiar landmarks of Tower Bridge alerted him to the fact that he was still in London and could drive out further. As he turned off the busy main road onto a quieter side street, Daniel thought he heard cries of help. His curiosity prevented him from driving past and instead he let down his windows and drove towards the direction of the screams. As he sped down the road he saw the figure of a tiny young woman lying on the floor. At first he thought she had slipped and fallen by accident. And then his face dropped in disbelief as he saw a man in a hooded sweatshirt grabbing the woman by her hair and pulling her roughly along.

  The minute he saw the woman’s face covered in blood, Daniel leapt out of the car, mumbled something, he couldn’t remember what. And realizing this was not a little domestic but an act of extreme violence taking place in front of him, he pelted towards the attacker.

  He hadn’t even paused to consider whether there were a group of men or just the one. He knew only that he needed to save her.

  His fractured ribs had been a small price to pay for that.

  As he lay in hospital later, he didn’t bother calling his soon to be ex-wife. She didn’t need to know where he was or what had happened to him. He doubted whether Marisa would even notice his absence. They had become such strangers. It didn’t matter whether he came home or not. She’d be drunk or drugged up and in someone else’s arms anyway. He wanted her out of his life.

  This year, once Christmas was over, he would start the New Year without any excess baggage. And women were excess baggage, as far as he was concerned.

  Chapter Five

  The return to work had been dire and dull, as it was for most people once the festivities of Christmas and New Year ended suddenly at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve.

  Kerrie had arrived back at the flat on New Year's day and both she and Caitlin had had yet another lazy day in front of the television.

  Caitlin didn’t tell Kerrie about her visit to Daniel's house. She wasn't sure exactly why she had kept this information from her best friend. Perhaps she would tell her later.

  The first week back at work was the hardest, when the Christmas decorations at home and at work had to be taken down. When the credit card bills appeared through the letter box and when the dim, grim reality of all that overspending was soon apparent.

  Caitlin and Kerrie had a sure fire theory for getting through the January blues. The first weekend they would go out and hit the sales. There was nothing quite like doing a bit of girlie shopping and then moving on to lunch or dinner at a nice restaurant with a movie if they still had the energy. Something not too expensive, because they would still be quite broke after the expense of Christmas had filtered through.

  These were the thoughts going through Caitlin’s mind as she slipped out at lunchtime to grab a sandwich from her favour
ite sandwich shop. She was looking forward to this weekend.

  Thank goodness it's Friday, she thought as her stomach grumbled loudly with hunger.

  The sound of her cell phone ringing sent goose bumps down her body. A few days ago she had received a call but when she answered it there was silence at the other end.

  She knew it was Carl.

  He had started to do this and other creepy things, when she split up with him back in November. She had blocked his number then but now he obviously had a new phone and had started his campaign of harassment all over again. The only solution would be to change her number completely and this she was adamant to do. It would mean sending out a new number to all her nearest and dearest because of that idiot, who couldn't get over the fact that she had dumped him.

  Her heartbeat quickened when she saw that her mobile phone displayed no number again.

  "Hello?" she said tentatively.

  "Is that Miss Quinn?" It was a firm, authoritative voice.

  Caitlin faltered, dropping the Chicken salad lunch box she had bought. "Yes," she bent over to pick it up again.

  "It's Detective Osborn, I'm looking into the attack on you a few days before Christmas."

  She felt light headed suddenly, and went and rested against one of the low walls outside the sandwich shop. "Oh, yes."

  "Miss Quinn, we believe we have the man who attacked you. We need to speak to you as a matter of urgency." Caitlin felt the life being sucked out of her and she felt faint. "I see," she said in a low whisper.

  "So, if you could come by Bishopsgate Police Station sometime today and ask for me, I'm Detective Osborn, that would be great."

  "I'll try to get there for five." She leant against the wall and remained there for a few moments trying to get her bearings back.

  It felt as though the very core had been ripped out of her body. She had tried to forget the night of the attack. There were still moments when she felt panicked and breathless for no reason, often when walking home from the station. She hated going out and getting to work was alright but getting home from work was still something that she found difficult. Especially now since it was dark by the time she left work. Still, she couldn’t let the attack stop her. So she forced herself to confront her fears and try to carry on as normal. But now that they had found her attacker, what could they want from her? She didn't want to confront anyone from that night. She didn't want any more memories of that event.