The Game Of Lust

The visitor

I advanced to the door in slow steps as I wondered who it could be, “Did Regina come back?” I asked myself, but why would Regina knock, when it was her place? I grabbed hold of the door handle and remained there, waiting for the person to get tired and eventually leave but unfortunately this person was a lot more persistent than I expected.

“Regina please, I'm really sorry!” the voice said, I Immediately recognized the voice and opened the door. It was Matthew Westler, Regina's ex boyfriend.

“Alfred!?” he jolt backwards as the door opened, his eyes were wide open and his eyebrows lifted in shock.

“Mathew,” I mentioned flatly.

“What … what are you doing here?” he chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.

“ I should be asking you the same thing,” I stared indifferently. Scanning him with a deplorable fown on my face, he looked rough on edges, I could tell he didn't get any sleep, the bags under his eyes were a clean give away but that wasn't only thing happening to his eye, apparently one of his eye was bruised and turned into an appallingly deep shade of purple, he also reeked of alcohol and cigarettes smoke. I began to wonder what really went down last night besides Regina's little cat fight, though I knew my sister didn't need any help when it came to fighting.

“Is Regina home I really need to see her? ” he asked impatiently peeping over my shoulders.

“And what do you want from her?,” I spat

“I just need to see her okay?!” he raised his voice and immediately composed himself, closing his eyes, he took a deep calming breath and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I really need to see her.”

“Well she's not home.”

“She won't answer my calls, I don't know what to do!”

“Did you think for a moment that perhaps Gina's not answering your calls because she doesn't want to speak to you, ” I replied.

“Damn it” he yelled and brushed his hair back restlessly, he paced around and came back to face me, “Can you tell her I stopped by?”

“No need, I think it would be better for you if you'd stay away from my sister,” I said in a low gruttal tone and leaned forward. I'd had just about enough of him playing mind games on Regina and though I was never one to make threats, at that moment I could not help but make an exception.

I could never understand Regina's fixation with him, and through all the years they spent together, she was too blind to see that he just using her for his amusement. She took care of his every need like a child while he took advantage of her naivety. I often recalled the unfortunate time after we lost our beloved brother, Edward.

Regina refused to come home, she wouldn't speak to our anyone nor her family. In that dark and wretched time he remained with her, fastened to her body like a seatbelt. Many would commend his ability to nurse a grieving woman as self hating as my sister could get but that wasn't just it the real reason I couldn't stand him was mainy because of his dependence on women, Regina

had nothing at that time, not even a job and still she spent every last dime she had on the underserving joke of a man that he was and he let her. He indulged her. Regina was always too kind for anyone.

“I know we've had our differences but I want to put that aside,”

“And do what?” I asked in a sarcastic tone, lifting an eyebrow.

“Asked for your help,” he uttered.

“What makes you think I'd help you?”

He froze with his mouth open, not a word got out.

“When you broke her heart, I had to nurse her, then you got engaged to her best friend and invited her to your engagement party to get humiliated, you've done a list of things I can't even bother to mention, ” I wrinkled my eyebrows in annoyance and leaned closer to him, “When I said… stay away from my sister, I didn't mean it as a joke It was a simple warning, I'd be clever if I were you,”

“You don't scare me Alfred”

“Well it's a damn shame! ,”

“I know she's in there, let me see her! ” he moved closer in an attempt to shove me out of his way. I pulled the door behind me shut and stood and faced him, “Do you want a matching black eye?” I asked pointing my fist at him, he quickly withdrew himself. He let out an exasperated sigh and shuffled away angrily. Part of me was glad he didn't push me any farther, Huey would often call me soft but fighting was always the last resort. I slung my jacket over my shoulder and headed outside. Standing under the soft heat of the sun, the smell of pie lingered in the air from a near by bakery, it wasn't a magical view like in the movies with the golden sun and colourful birds flying around, instead it was people wearing walking about with lost stares and cold sneers, looking dejected, it was apparent that most people found torture in their work places, luckily for me I was man living off my parents wealth, and the wealth of my novels, though I couldn't say writing was an easy task. Suddenly I was greeted with flashes of everything that happened the previous night; Andre Richardson, the damn book launch and the ride home. I rubbed the back of my head soothingly as if the memories ached. Annoyed with myself, I felt the urge to shout at the top of my voice but what satisfaction would it give me?

My mother would always say that it was pointless to react, why shed a tear or yell, it wouldn't change anything so no matter how badly I felt I always found a way to suck it in and remain calm but with Margret I failed woefully, all my mother's teaching simply amounted to nothing.

I had to clear my head before facing Margret, what would I say to her? I wondered.

“you stormed out of the car in the middle of the night and left her to drive herself home … well done Alfred ” I murmured, struting down the busy street, I stopped at a bus station and waited or the bus to arrive. Many things crossed my mind,

Regina was right all along, I shouldn't have let mother play her games on me, look were it got me, sitting at a bus stop with a deplorable look and strange women glancing at me.

Margret didn't love me but why did it hurt so much?, perhaps it was seeing her smile and laugh with someone else that hurt the most. I had to accept it, I'd return her coldness and keep my distance. I soon realized that in all my young years I'd never taken a bus before, to put it another way I didn't have a ticket and only wasted my time sitting idly.

Eventually I made a smart decision and took a cab. On the way, I hoped I would reach home and she would be else where even if it were for the rest of the day, I still couldn't prepare myself to face her.

I stood by the gates, taking in a very deep and relaxing breath, I left myself in, the Hamish family had a thing for flowers, red tulips lined both sides of the road, all the way to the giant house. All the months I'd been there, I had rarely ever taken a walk or a morning run, I was out of shape mentally and emotionally and perhaps I was still getting use to the environment. I rang the doorbell nervously, “Calm down, It's not like Margret would answer the door anyways,” I muttered and rang again,

The door opened slowly and it was Flora.

“Oh Mr Dalton!” she jumped “You just missed your wife, she left a few minutes ago.”

Hearing her words my eyes lit up and I fought the urge to embrace her with all the length of my arms and spin her around, I could finally breath down. “Did she tell you were she went?”

“No but her father was here as well” she stepped aside as I marched in,

“You mean Robert Hamish was here?” I turned

“Yes sir, he even asked for you.”

“What did you tell him?” I asked curiously.

“I didn't get a word out but Mrs Hamish told him you were out of town.”

“She did? ” she had every reason to tell him that, perhaps that was where she wanted me after all the things I said.

“You look tired sir, ”she said taking my jacket from my hand.

“You're too kind Flora, ” I smiled. I faced the brown staircase and matched up to my room.

For some reason hearing that Margret was away didn't give me any peace, palms were still cold and my heart raced. I reached my room and sat on the chair by the window, it was my favorite spot, from there I got a good view of the garden and the swimming pool, it was rather relaxing. I leaned back and unbuttoned my shirt. I noticed Richardson's novel sitting pretty on the book shelf, it boiled up all the anger I'd earlier suppressed, I sprung up and snatched it out of the shelf, beside it was another of Richardson's novel, in fact the most recent one. It almost felt like I was being haunted by this man. I let out an agitated roar before I could take out my anger on the innocent books, the door opened, it was Louie standing before me with food on a tray, “What happened Sir? Are you alright?” she shouted, dropping the tray down on the table, she turned to me quickly and grabbed my wrist, inspecting it, “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked looking up at me, she looked smaller for some reason, her touch calmed me or perhaps it was her show of care that moved me.

“No … no I'm not hurt,” I answered. She finally released my hand.

“But I heard you yell,”

“I … I stumbed … my toe,” I muttered and looked away. Louie took the books from my hand as if she'd known the exact cause of my agony. I returned to the chair and watched her return the books to the shelf. She rubbed her hands on her apron and cleared her throat, “Did Margret tell you where she went off to?”

“Mrs Hamish has traveled out of the city with her father, ”

“How do you know this? ”

“She asked me to pack her bags last night.”