Cutter: Contemporary Romance Novel Read online

  Cutter

  by

  Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2014 by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Joanna Mazurkiewicz. The right of Joanna Mazurkiewicz to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author/publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, journal or blog.

  “Beginnings are usually scary and endings are usually sad, but it’s everything in between that makes it all worth living.”

  - Sandra Bullock in Hope Floats

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Everything began when we were sitting in the living room. My cousin Jessica was there. I thought that I was much stronger, that I could deal with everything, but deep down I was just a small scared child who couldn’t feel anything at all. Jessica was still dressed in her school uniform and her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail. She listened to her mother with admiration. Her brown eyes were wide and took everything in. I hated those afternoons with Aunt Lucy. It was torture sitting next to my mother who kept admiring how well Jessica was doing in school.

  “I think we should take Sophia to those art classes in the same college where Jessica goes next week,” said Aunt Lucy, smiling. “A famous artist from Australia is interested in Jessica’s paintings.”

  I could have only hoped that mum didn’t take the hint, but it was already too late.

  “Yes, of course. Sophia, what do you think?”

  “I’m not interested in art, Mum –”

  “Oh nonsense! You need to have a hobby. Look at Jessica – soon she’ll be famous around Britain with all her wonderful paintings,” Mum cut me off and I blushed.

  “Oh yes, Sophia, the talent is in our family,” exclaimed Aunt Lucy, smoothing her blonde hair.

  I wanted to tell her that I hated art. I had my own interest but mum didn’t even want to hear about that. My cousin Jessica was the daughter that my mother always wanted. She had excellent grades, baby blonde straight hair, and she went to the most prestigious art college in London.

  “If you do well in school you could apply for a place next year. You’ll be able to meet all those famous artists.”

  Jessica beamed with an expression of utter content. She made me sick, with her perfect pale complexion and designer clothes.

  “Sophia’s grades aren’t bad, but surely she can do better,” said Mum, smiling widely.

  “Jessica’s always had good grades – it’s all about hard work. You should hire Mr. Nicholson for Sophia’s tutorials; her grades would go up within a few months,” Aunt Lucy advised my mother.

  My mother wasn’t going to let go of that idea and I knew that she was going to tell me that she’d hired Mr. Nicholson for a trial lesson. My grades were never good enough and I was fed up with being compared to my cousin, Jessica, on a daily basis. I sat digging my nails into my skin, boiling all the emotions inside me but continuing to listen, hoping to block all the negative thoughts away.

  When they left I ran upstairs and locked the door to my room. Closing the curtains, I sat on my desk for a while. I felt as if I was going to blow up. There wasn’t enough air in my lungs and I was choking. My mind was spinning, anxiety rushed through my body, and I started sweating because I couldn’t release the pressure that had been building inside me for days, weeks, or maybe years. It felt as if I had been in water for minutes and I couldn’t get above the surface. I pushed my legs and arms, swimming, but the water was getting inside my nose, mouth, and into my lungs. Then I saw them – a small pair of nail scissors lying there where my mother had left them. My hand was shaking when I picked them up. My heart was beating faster and I wanted to stop drowning, so I pushed my chair away and lifted my skirt. I touched my skin with the scissors and then pressed, digging the sharpness inside my flesh. I felt a piercing pain. I cut as deeply as I could and then I threw the sharp object away. Thick liquid emerged from the small wound and I was staring at it, completely mesmerised and fascinated. The anxiety was long gone; it was just long, blissful peace. I smiled, not feeling anything at all. The pressure eased off and I felt better than ever before.

  I was finally liberated.

  Chapter One

  Six years later

  “Are you sure that you are ready for this?” asked Collette Foster, slamming the bulk of the papers on the table in front of Sophia. Her nostrils flared with annoyance and impatience. Sophia smiled and tugged her hair behind her ear. She knew that Mrs Foster wanted to double check if she was ready to take this assignment. After all, Sophia didn’t have that much experience, and if anything went wrong, Mrs Foster’s job could be on the line.

  “Of course, I’ve been thinking about this all year,” said Sophia, not taking her eyes off Collette, who had found this exciting contract for her.

  “All right. If you’re really ready then I can’t stop you. I just want to warn you that this will be hard and challenging, but they agreed to have you as temporary Probation Service Officer,” continued Collette, watching Sophia carefully. She received a phone call this morning asking if Sophia was ready to start as soon as possible. Someone was on long-term sick leave and Collette thought about Sophia straight away.

  “I’m aware of it, Mrs Foster, but I like a challenge,” chuckled Sophia.

  “You sound like a clever girl. They are important clients so I’m expecting no problems whatsoever, but I’m still willing to find you something in London if you don’t want to be away for the whole summer.”

  Sophia tightened her jaw and pulled back her sleeves. Collette Foster wasn’t going to take any nonsense from her; she knew what she was talking about and Sophia couldn’t hesitate.

  “I just need to get away from here. I hate London in the summer,” she said, trying to keep the tension out of voice. Collette narrowed her eyes and pushed back her glasses.


  “It’s your choice, Sophia, so I’m not going to dwell on this anymore. When you arrive in Belfast you have to report to Susan O’Brien at the Probation Board for Northern Ireland. All the details are in this envelope,” explained Collette and patted her brown hair. “Any problems, just call me. You know what is acceptable and what isn’t, so just make sure you’re careful.”

  “I know, Mrs Foster, but I’m really looking forward to this. It’s a great opportunity,” replied Sophia firmly, taking the envelope as she stood up.

  Collette was a short, thin woman in her mid-forties. She was one of the recruitment consultants who took care of positions within the Probation Service, and when Sophia first came to her she was reluctant to work with her. Collette knew that Sophia worked as a temporary Probation Service Officer last year; it was only two days a week for a few months mainly to gain relevant experience, but she wanted to give her a chance. Moreover, Sophia had just completed her second year of Psychology and Criminology and she was doing her diploma in Probation Practice. Her CV needed a little work, but in the end she sent it to a few prospective employers. After many weeks of silence she was going to tell Sophia that she should look for a work placement, as no one had responded. When she was just about to call a new candidate, she received a phone call from Belfast. The Probation Board for Northern Ireland liked Sophia’s CV and they wanted her to start straight away. They had been looking for someone for a while and a three-month contract during summer holidays was ideal. Sophia had a small caseload last year when she worked in London so she shouldn’t have any problems getting used to the Irish way of working.

  “Just email me when you start. I need to know if everything is all right with you,” she added firmly.

  Looking at Sophia’s amber eyes, Collette thought that this girl was pretty; she had long, curly strawberry blonde hair, delicate features, and long skinny legs. Collette could see that Sophia had money – the Gucci bag and designer clothes were obvious clues – but she still didn’t understand why she wanted to leave London for three months. Maybe some stupid boy had just broken her heart and she needed a change. Collette didn’t care about Sophia’s reasons as long as she was going to get a large bonus at the end of the month.

  Sophia said goodbye to Mrs Foster, promised to keep in touch, and left to go home and pack her bags. In the corridor she said hello to the other women who were working today and reapplied her lip-gloss before stepping outside, feeling happy. For the first time since she left the clinic, she was going to be away from her parents, and she was excited but nervous about the future.

  The walk to the St Paul’s Station was short. When the train arrived her stomach made a funny jolt. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with her mum and dad. Her father was at home today, so this discussion was going to get very awkward. She was lost in her own thoughts in the tube. As usual, the train was crowded with people and she hated being squeezed between strangers. It wasn’t long before she reached Notting Hill. 20 minutes later she walked onto Lancaster Road, clenching her fists nervously. Before she packed she had to reveal her plans to her parents.

  She pressed the door handle and took a long deep breath, feeling the anxiety whip through her again. She could hear her parents in the living room. Her heartbeat quickened as she walked across the immaculate wooden floors and stepped into a spacious living room. They were sitting on the sofa, talking about Mum’s next project. The TV was on in the background. Sophia cleared her throat to let them know that she was back.

  “There you are. I was just about to call you,” said Michelle, her mother.

  Her mother was slight with short blonde hair, thin lips, and high cheekbones. Sophia pressed her lips together, contemplating how to begin. Her mother was arching her eyebrows, which meant that she was already irritated. Sophia felt uneasy about what she was just about to say, but this time she couldn’t back away.

  “Hi Mum, Dad.”

  “Where have you been?” asked her father, Nassa, not taking his eyes off the screen.

  Her father had curly hair and tanned skin; he was half Libyan, although he lived in London all his life. That’s why Sophia had this awful long, curly blonde hair that never wanted to stay in one place. Nassa was wearing a grey suit and Sophia wondered if he was going to leave for the office shortly – at least, she hoped he would. Sophia just had to get on with this and tell them that she was leaving tomorrow morning.

  “I was completing all the paperwork for my trip to Belfast tomorrow,” explained Sophia, shifting her weight to the side.

  They reacted as she expected; Michelle brought her hands to her mouth, and her father flinched, shooting her a staggered look.

  “Belfast? What kind of silly idea is that? You’re starting work in my practice next week,” he barked.

  This would be harder than Sophia expected, but she wasn’t going to let them rule her.

  “Dad, I told you I don’t want to work in your practice. I’m flying to Belfast tomorrow to take this position as a temporary Probation Service Officer.”

  The colour drained from Michelle’s face. She always had a pale complexion, but right now she looked like she was going to pass out. Her upper lip started trembling. Sophia hated when her mother was slowly losing control.

  “Ireland? Are you out of your mind, dear? This is a hideous idea. You’ll be all alone there and no one would be able to keep an eye on you,” cried her mother.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Sophia, you are expected in the practice. Michael organised everything for you!”

  “Dad, stop it. You didn’t listen when I told you that I’m not interested in working in your practice. I was supposed to do this last year full-time, but you insisted against it and I’m not listening to you this year. I’m leaving tomorrow, and I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be back until September,” pressed Sophia. She felt that she had to be firm with her parents.

  “Where are you going to stay and what if you lose control again?” asked Michelle, staring at her daughter.

  “I’ll stay with my friend, Vanessa. She lives in the city centre and her housemate isn’t there in the summer. Plus I’m not a child – it’s time for me to face being on my own.”

  “You’re ruining your chances for a bright career, Sophia. Belfast is rough. You’re not ready to face this kind of challenge,” said Nassa firmly. “We won’t be there to help you.”

  “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I worked as a temporary Probation Service Officer last year and I know what I’m doing,” Sophia yelled, starting to shake with anger.

  “But you’ll be far away, and what if –”

  “I’m fine. I don’t want you to bring this up. I’m perfectly capable of living my own life,” Sophia cut her mother off. She hated that her parents brought her past back every time she wanted to do something for herself. When they couldn’t control her.

  “Look at your cousin Jessica. She has always done what her mother told her to do, and now she is successful,” cried Michelle.

  Sophia wasn’t going to tell her mother that Jessica was only able to paint when she was high on cocaine. Michelle wouldn’t believe her; no one knew that her cousin was a drug user. When Sophia went to visit her in her studio a couple of months ago, she saw her sniffing the drug through her nose. She later told her that it was cocaine and she forced Sophia to promise that she wouldn’t tell anyone. Her cousin was talented – there were no doubts about that. She had always done well in school and her life was like a fairy tale. She was expected to succeed, and drugs allowed her to deal with the pressure and stress.

  “I’m leaving for Belfast tomorrow whether you like it or not. It’s all sorted, so just deal with that,” said Sophia more firmly. She turned to leave the room.

  “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life. This time you are alone. We aren’t paying for any more therapy with that psychiatrist,” roared Nassa, but Sophia couldn’t listen to him anymore. Her parents knew that she was very stubborn and her nightmare had
ended years ago.

  She ran to her bedroom and started packing all her clothes. Her mother convinced Sophia that she couldn’t move out when she started University. She wasn’t ready to let her go, plus the doctor told Michelle that it was safer for Sophia to stay at home. Her mother kept telling her that she didn’t know how to control her life; it had only been two years since the nightmare ended and she felt that her mother constantly watched her.

  When the time came to choose her course, she wanted to go for Sports Management, but her father said no; he wanted her to take over his practice. She wasn’t going to study law but when she came across Psychology and Criminology she decided that the course was interesting enough. She thought long and hard about what she wanted to do in life. Then another friend told her about working with prison leavers, which sounded interesting and challenging. She wanted to separate herself from her parents and deal with difficult cases. She couldn’t imagine working alongside her father.