Dear Diary - Chapter 7
Title - Dear Diary
Author - QueenWillie
Rating - R for language
Pairing - Daniel/Wilhlemina
Disclaimer - Don't own 'em.
Summary - Can all this animosity really just be over a job?
Special Thanks to beta Dardeile, u rock babe :) Sorry for the time taken to update :)
Chapter 7
Wilhelmina had stayed at home far longer than she had intended to, standing in her shower, letting the water cascade over her to try and wash away the memory if the night before. She had lingered so long that she was late for work and it had all been for nothing as the scent of him still clung to her.
Walking down the tube, unaware she was furtively checking her Blackberry every two steps, she walked straight into Clare Meade.
‘Why Wilhelmina, aren’t we a tad distracted this morning. What’s the matter, lost a flying monkey?’
After Daniel, this was the last person she wanted to see, but she didn’t trust her voice to work and not blurt out just why she was so distracted, if only for the look on Clares’ face. She settled for a scathing glare and continued into her office. Throwing her purse and wrap on the table, she sat at the table rubbing her temples, stopping abruptly when an image of Connor came uninvited into her head. She was so preoccupied, reminiscing about their first meeting in her office alone when she had a similar headache that she didn’t hear her faithful little worker bee buzzing around her moving her discarded belongings. Her brain started tuning in to his inane ramblings.
‘....and no one can get hold of him.’
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and held up a hand for him to stop.
‘Get hold of who?’
‘Daniel. Weren’t you listening to a word I said?’
‘I pay you to listen to me, not vice versa. And what do you mean you can’t get a hold of him, we have a meeting for the final layout.’
‘I know, but Betty’s been ringing him all morning and got no answer. She’s on her way over to his place now. It’s probably nothing, more than likely he’s sleeping of a bender with whatever tart he happened to bang last night.’
Wilhelmina felt the heat rising to her cheeks. ‘The mans wife has died Marc, I doubt that’s it.’ Averting her eyes, sure that if Marc looked into them he would know her secret.
Marc suddenly stopped what he was doing and turned to face her, a quizzical look in his eye. ‘You know...’ he began slowly, ‘I called you like a hundred times last night and you didn’t answer either.’
The statement hung in the air between them, Wilhelmina could feel her shame being replaced by anger at what he was insinuating. Marc, feeling a rare sense of bravado, sat in the chair opposite her and debated whether or not to say the next thing that came into his head. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he spoke.
‘You know I didn’t stay in the office for lunch yesterday.’
‘How exciting for you.’ She replied in a monotone, eyes boring into him, wondering where this was going.
‘I went for a walk....in Central Park.’
The anger that had been flushing her face drained as she felt her veins turn to ice, knowing instantly that Marc had seen her.
‘What do you want?’
Marc wrinkled his brow in confusion. ‘What?’
‘To keep whatever you think you saw quiet?’
Marc was unable to keep the hurt from showing on his face. ‘I don’t want anything. I just thought you might need to talk.’
‘Oh and you can braid my hair and gossip about boys?’ Her voice was eerily quiet and Marc was getting unnerved.
‘Get out Marc.’
Marc stood silently and left the room, mentally kicking himself for what he had said.
Wilhelmina was shaking, if Marc had seen then it wouldn’t be long before others knew what he knew. She needed to make sure that didn’t happen, she needed damage control. She picked up the phone and dialled Daniels number.
xXx
Daniel sat on the cold floor of his kitchen, his back against the coolness of the fridge. The diary was rested on his knee, open at the page he had read over and over again. A bottle of Vodka well on its way to being empty was in his hand and he raised it to his mouth for another long drink. He felt the alcohol burn his throat and run down his chin as he heard a key in the lock of his door.
Betty padded down his hallway and stopped to look through the open bedroom door, it was empty. Continuing her search she walked to his lounge and noted the open bottle of Bourbon, the broken glass on the floor and the empty one with the unmistakable smear of lipstick on the rim.
She entered his kitchen and stopped when she saw the prone figure resting against the steel. He didn’t look up as she walked over to him.
‘Daniel.’ she whispered.
Nothing
‘Daniel, what happened here?’
Nothing
She could smell the alcohol sweating from his pores, when she tried to remove the bottle from his grasp his grip tightened. Seeing the diary face down on his knee she closed her eyes and sighed. Reaching for it snapped him out of his trance and he grabbed it, shielding it from her.
‘Daniel?’ She tried again.
Still no response, at that moment his phone began to vibrate loudly on the marble next to him. Reaching over him she picked it up.
‘It’s Wilhelmina.’
Taking the phone from her, he stared at the name on the screen for several seconds before launching it across the room and smiling thinly when he heard the satisfying crash of it smashing on the counter.
Betty added quickly in her head. The meeting in the park, the two glasses, the state of the bed, Daniels reaction. She shook her head.
‘Oh Daniel...you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.’
‘Get out Betty.’ His voice was rough from lack of use and the alcohol.
‘I’m not leaving you Daniel, I’ll make some coffee, run your shower and we can talk. I’ll tell the office...’
‘Get out Betty.’ He repeated, he had still not looked at her, ashamed to know she knew what he had done.
‘You need someone right now.’
‘I don’t need your mothering!’ he snapped.
Betty felt the words like a slap, she knew he was only speaking to her like that because he was upset but it took all her strength not to scream at him.
‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘But I’ll be back to check on you.’
He didn’t answer as she quietly left him. Drinking once again from the ever depleting bottle of Vodka he picked the diary up once more and reread the words that stabbed him like a red hot poker in the gut.
xXx
‘You mean she was there?’ Marc asked Betty in a quiet voice back in Daniels office.
‘Well he wasn’t exactly in a chatty mood Marc but from what I could tell...yeah she’d been there.’
Marc sprayed his inhaler and inhaled deeply.
‘And he was reading the diary.’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Okay, see ya. I’m going to Cuba, but if anyone asks I’m in Milan.’
‘Marc!’ she rolled her eyes at his dramatic tone.
‘What! He read something, she’s gonna find out and then she’ll find out how he got them. I don’t know about you but I’m quite fond of my head and don’t particularly want it served up to Wilhelmina Slater on a plate!’
‘Well I did tell you to leave them.’
‘Oh please, not the ‘I told you so’, and anyway she won’t care about that, your head will be right alongside mine, sister.’
Betty gulped. ‘Look I’m going to see him on my way home, I’ll talk to him.’
The two sat on the edge of Daniels desk staring out into the darkness of the office. It was late and the only people left were the two of them, who had stayed to help the push for the layout due to Daniels absence and Wilhelmina, who was still working in her office.
They were so lost in thoughts of how many ways Wilhelmina could make them suffer that they didn’t hear the elevator ping at the far end of the office, and neither noticed a highly inebriated Daniel walk out.
xXx
Wilhelmina was glad there was so much work to be done, it took her mind off her act of stupidity. She had spent the day working and rebuilding the impenetrable wall around her, determined she would never let that man near her again. She could feel another headache building and she stood up, gasping in fright when she saw Daniel at the door. It was dark but she could tell from his stance he’d been drinking. Dear God do the Meades have any other way of solving problems. Regaining her composure she walked to her credenza.
‘Nice to see you Daniel, only 12 hours late.’
He didn’t speak to her, just moved further into the room. He watched her as she poured a long drink of water and took painkillers.
Good, he thought, I hope she’s in pain.
Wilhelmina was oblivious to his animosity. ‘I would offer you one, but something tells me you’d like something with a little more kick.’
She moved back round to sit in her chair, still not looking at him and returned to her work, not noticing his eyes staring at her.
‘Look, if this is because of last night then forget it. You don’t need to pickle your liver. You regret it, I regret it. Move on and stop with the drama.’
He cleared his throat. ‘February 23rd 1995.’
She looked up at him and sighed. ‘What?’
‘February 23rd 1995.’ He repeated.
Exasperated now, she rolled her eyes. ‘Again what? You’re starting to sound like Rain Man.’
He walked around her desk and stood over her. He smiled, there was nothing friendly in that smile at all and for the first time she was something in his eyes that frightened her. He reached into his pocket and removed a battered leather bound book, a book she recognised immediately and she felt her mouth go dry and her stomach churn.
‘February 23rd 1995.’
‘Where did you...’ her voice sounded foreign to her ears.
‘Nu uh, I’m asking the questions.’ He placed his hands either side of the chair and leaned close to her. The alcohol on his breath making her eyes water. His voice was low and his eyes where wild as he spoke to her.
‘Questions like; just when where you going to tell me you got rid of my child?’