Limp Dicks & Saggy Tits

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Limp Dicks & Saggy Tits Page 29

by Tracie Podger


  “To students?”

  “No, lecturers. I’ve got a tenancy agreement sorted with them, deposits, and one month up front. All I’ve got left is a little snagging, and then they can move in.”

  I smiled—his enthusiasm was contagious. “That’s great news. I’m pleased for you. What about the estate manager position?”

  “I was thinking I might hang on to that myself for the moment. I’ve some students starting as soon as the Christmas break is over. We’ve done without a real estate manager for so long, I want to take my time over employing the right person, and I don’t know that there are the funds just yet.”

  I nodded in agreement although I wasn’t sure I agreed. It meant he was staying put for sure.

  “What about your cottage?”

  “I don’t know, yet. I often lock it up for periods of time.” He seemed quick to change the subject. “Anyway, come and look at the view.”

  We walked out into the small fenced garden that had a stone patio, and the rest was laid to lawn. The view was amazing though. To one side was the house and to the rear were fields of heather and fir trees, and then beyond those were the snow-topped mountains.

  “Can you ski there?” I asked.

  “Yes, although most people go to Aviemore which is east of us. I’ll take you over there for the weekend if you ski,” he said.

  “I don’t, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”

  “I’ll teach you,” he replied, taking my hand in his.

  We returned to the cottage and out of the front door. He left the keys with the builder that was in and out of the third cottage and walked back to the house with me.

  “We’ll have a frost tomorrow,” he said, as he looked up at the sky.

  I followed his gaze, but all I saw were clouds. “How can you tell?” I asked, still staring upwards.

  He chuckled. “The weatherman said on the radio.”

  I whacked him playfully. “Oh, honestly, I thought you could tell,” I said, laughing along with him. “I met Angie and Greg today.”

  “Did you? How was she?”

  “Very cheerful,” I answered, immediately noting he hadn’t asked after Greg.

  “She’s a sweetheart. Now, I thought we might go out for dinner, what do you think?”

  “I’d love to, thank you.” Ronan should have got a gold star for the diversions in conversation. Seeing as he didn’t want to talk further about them, I told him, “I bought a new jumper. I could wear that.”

  He turned to me and scooped me into his arms, nuzzling my neck. “Do that, then I can molest you in the car on the way home. A little layby loving,” he said with a playful nibble.

  “Layby loving?” I laughed out loud as he turned and pushed the numbers to instruct the gate to open.

  With a glint in his eye, he said, “You must have made out in a car before?”

  I felt my cheeks colouring. “No, I don’t think I have,” I replied quietly.

  He didn’t respond, and I wasn’t sure that he got the tone in my voice. I was glad. I didn’t want to have to explain that something as silly as a teenage fumble in a car had bypassed me. It was as if that should have been a rite of passage, but I’d missed out.

  Ronan grabbed a sandwich, and we headed out to see how the pup was doing. Charlie had been monitoring him and told us that he’d be up on his feet and trying to have a walk around but, of course, with his leg strapped up, it was hard. The vet had said two to four weeks, and the break would be healed, and until then, we had no idea how he would walk. I picked him up, and he licked my chin as Ronan sat in the straw and stroked Mum’s head. She had been out in the run for exercise, and he picked mud from her fur. Now her babies were hungry and suckling as if it were their last meal.

  “I’ll have to think of a name for you, little one,” I said, kissing his nose and then putting him back on his mother’s teat.

  Ronan had work to catch up on, and I wanted to finish logging and documenting all the paperwork. We sat either side of the desk and worked in silence. It was comfortable. I could get used to being in his company, whether we were talking, laughing, or just being.

  It was dark, and there was a low-lying mist when we travelled to the pub. I much preferred the comfort of Ronan’s Range Rover to the old Land Rover, and I made him laugh with my detailed description of the journey I’d taken with Maggie. We arrived at the pub, and instead of sitting in the bar, we were shown through to the restaurant at the back. I hadn’t noticed the restaurant the last time we’d been there. I shuddered as I remembered the encounter with his ex-wife.

  The menu wasn’t extensive but the selection, for a local pub off the tourist track, was amazing. I chose buffalo steak and read where it had been reared, which, of course, was locally. Ronan was able to detail the supplier of everything on the menu, and although the estate owned the pub, he hadn’t had a hand in running it for a few years. We both decided to skip starters after I’d seen the dessert menu; my mouth started to water immediately.

  The conversation turned to my impending house purchase, and Ronan commented on how excited I seemed.

  “I can’t wait. I had a lovely house, and I know that’s not the most important thing about life, but if I’m going to grow old on my own, I’d rather do it in comfort,” I said, and then laughed. Ronan didn’t join in, or rather, he did eventually, but it seemed forced.

  Once our meal was eaten, we continued to sit and chat. He told me stories of his childhood, and I was further reminded of how different our lives had been.

  “How often was your dad around?” I asked as I sipped my coffee.

  He shrugged. “I don’t really remember. He came and went, fucked around, beat my mum, I beat him, and then I left. I didn’t see him for years. I refused to. I refused to see my mum because she kept forgiving him, and I couldn’t stand to see that anymore.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ronan.” I wasn’t sure what I could say that would comfort him.

  He shook his head. “It’s okay. It’s why Rich hates me, I guess. He was left to pick up the pieces when I walked, but I’d protected him for all the years before. One day, I got a call from my mum. She was in pieces, telling me that Dad had finally left. I thought she would be pleased, Lizzie. He’d beat her regularly, yet she cried and begged him to stay. I didn’t understand.”

  Pain crossed his features, and I saw him swallow hard. He averted his gaze and sipped on his wine. I let him be, not wanting him to dwell on any more painful memories. Before I could change the subject, it was done for us.

  “Hi, Lizzie,” I heard. I looked up to see Greg with a broad smile.

  “Oh, hi,” I replied.

  “Did the boots fit okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you. I tried them on at the shop, remember?” I wasn’t sure where he was trying to take the conversation, but it wasn’t hard to see Ronan become agitated.

  “Ronan and I are talking,” I said, hoping that he’d understand the conversation didn’t include him.

  “I can see. How are you, Ronan?” Greg asked. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “Very well, thanks for asking.” Ronan’s reply was curt.

  Greg chuckled. “Well, Lizzie, if you fancy that drink we talked about, you’ve got my number,” he said, he then raised his pint glass to us and walked off.

  Ronan mumbled under his breath.

  “You don’t like him, I take it?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t matter whether I do or don’t, does it? Shall we go?”

  I reached for my bag and to get my purse. “I’d like to pay for this evening if you don’t mind?” I said, offering a smile.

  “I do mind. They’ll send an invoice.” His tone of voice was clipped, laced with an annoyance that seemed to have sprung from nowhere.

  I blinked rapidly a few times and held back my retort, confused by the change in him. He’d been sad when he talked about his mum and dad but the Ronan sitting, or rather standing, and waiting for me to join him, wasn’t pleasant. I’d met th
is one just the once before, and I wasn’t keen.

  I stood and walked to the front door. I didn’t wait for him to jump around me to open it, I did it myself, and I let it slam in his face. I stood by the car, pretending to fumble in my handbag and waited until I heard the beep of the fob unlocking the doors. I wrenched on the handle and climbed in, then made a point to fuss with my seatbelt, so as not to just be sitting looking stonily ahead. Not that it mattered, Ronan started the engine, and we drove back in silence. The only time I thought he was about to speak was while we waited for the gates to open. From the corner of my eye, I caught him half turn towards me. Then he seemed to change his mind. I sighed and shook my head. I was out of the car and walking up the stone steps to the front door before he’d climbed out himself.

  “Fucking whiplash,” I whispered into the dark hallway. I carried on up the stairs to the bedroom.

  I was standing in front of a long mirror brushing out my hair when he came in. I stared at his reflection. He walked straight to me and without speaking, wrapped his arms around me.

  He rested his chin on my shoulder and looked at my reflection. “Don’t date Greg, please?” he whispered.

  I scowled in disbelief. “Why ever would you think I would?”

  “Because he said—”

  “He wrote his number on the receipt. He didn’t give it to me. I haven’t given him any indication that I would like to date him, and he hasn’t asked. He offered to take me for a drink, which could mean as friends, although I have no idea because there wasn’t even a conversation about it.”

  “I misunderstood,” he replied.

  “You did, and then you acted like a child. If I wanted temper tantrums and foot stomping I’d date Joe!”

  “He and I don’t get on,” he said quietly.

  “I can see that. You don’t have to tell me why, of course, but give me some credit, and some respect, in future,” I said, a little gentler than I had spoken before.

  “He was the one Carol cheated with.”

  “Ah, that’s awkward.” I wasn’t sure what to say, really.

  “He was pissed off that he had to leave Maggie and Charlie so they could look after Rich and me. It wasn’t our decision, and from what Maggie said, he only had a few months left with them before he would have been out of fostering.” Ronan sighed still holding me and still looking at my reflecting in the mirror. “When he was an adult, he came back and started an affair, out of spite, I believe.”

  “I’m sorry that all happened to you,” I said. I was sorry for him. I also thought that he had a lot of baggage that he would do well to lose, not for my sake, but for his.

  “Is it worth hanging on to that anger still? Doesn’t that give him the edge over you?” I asked gently.

  “When I went to the police to tell them what Carol had said about Demi’s car crash, he turned up and said that she was with him that night. I know that wasn’t true, but I can’t prove anything. So, is it worth hanging on to? Maybe—for Demi’s sake. And yes, it most certainly does give them an edge over me, I guess.”

  I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him. To have had that second chance ripped away from him so brutally. I also believed that anyone he fell in love with—if he were capable of doing so again—would always be in her shadow. I felt sorry for him, and for me.

  “I think that we shouldn’t bother to visit that pub again,” I said, giving him a smile. I wanted to brush the evening under the carpet.

  Later that night, I was wide awake and watching Ronan sleep beside me. His long eyelashes rested on the skin under his eyes, and his dark brown hair was partly standing up in places. He lay on his back, and his chest rose slowly as he breathed in and out.

  I envied Demi; I think that she was the one that had the best of him. Carol hadn’t a clue what she had, and I had the one with the cracked heart that was lightly papered over. That’s assuming I actually had him at all. I couldn’t make him out. He was jealous of Greg, and I understood why: he was insecure in relationships because of his past—weren’t we all?—and I wasn’t sure I was the right person to be able to help him move on. I didn’t think that he thought that deeply about our relationship for it to have any meaning or to start the healing process. I wanted to cry at that thought.

  I slipped from the bed and pulled on my PJs, wrapped a robe around myself and shivered with the cold. I found my slippers and placed my feet in them, then quietly left the room.

  I sat at the kitchen table and reflected. There was only five years difference between Ronan and me, yet, there were times when that felt like more. In a way, he acted much younger than his years. It was obvious he was considerably hurt and continued to be, by Carol’s betrayal, and possible lies, and also the death of Demi. However, the way he harboured those and the way he allowed that to distort even the slightest misunderstanding into something of magnitude wasn’t in my nature. I was trying to be patient, but it was hard work, coupled with not knowing if there was even a serious relationship between us.

  I sat in the semi-darkness wrapped in the warmth from the Aga. I could still smell bread and pies that had been cooked the previous day, and I knew that I would miss the house when it was time to leave for good. Although I hadn’t known Maggie and Charlie for long, only visited the house a couple of times, I knew that they, and it, would leave a lasting impression on me. Even Saggy Tits—and I chuckled at what had become a term of endearment—would forever be one of many fond memories.

  I took a deep breath in and came to a conclusion. I was getting close to the barn becoming mine. I could do with being back in London to pack up my flat and spend some time going through what I had in storage; selling off, or donating what I didn’t want, and generally preparing for the move. In other words, until I could figure Ronan out, or until Ronan could figure Ronan out, I was running away. I would give him the respect I so demanded, though, and tell him that I was needed back home.

  The following afternoon, I decided to take a walk. I wanted to clear my head and get my thoughts in order. Ronan offered to accompany me, but I declined. I cited hormones or some other shit that meant men often backed off immediately, not Ronan, though.

  “Why do I get the impression that it’s more than that? If you want to spend some time alone, you can just say,” he said.

  “I want to spend some time alone.”

  His eyes widened and, regardless of what he’d said, he clearly wasn’t expecting that.

  “Ronan, there are times I love your company. There are times, like last night, like the day you found the photograph and pounced on me before you even gave me a chance to explain, when I know, I’ll never be able to compete with the demons in your head, or with Demi,” I finished quietly. “And it shouldn’t be a competition.”

  He didn’t speak, and I wondered if those were words he’d heard before. They didn’t seem to come as a surprise.

  I pulled on my new coat and placed the hat on my head. I also took his hand in mine and squeezed. “I’m just taking a walk, that’s all,” I added.

  I left the house through the back door and wondered if I’d find my way to the gatehouse and back. I thought it would probably take an hour. I checked my pocket to make sure I had my phone just in case. There were wide tracks that wove through the woods. Those tracks all went somewhere, so I decided I’d follow in the direction I believed was correct.

  It was nice to listen to the birds and to breathe in the cold air. The sun streamed through the bare branches of the trees, and I kept to the centre of the tracks where tyres hadn’t churned up the earth. I paused as I spotted a deer in front of me and pulled out my phone to take a photograph. She looked at me as I snapped away. I zoomed in and could see her nostrils flare as she tested my scent. Something startled her, and she bolted away. I stood looking in the direction that her head had swung to but saw nothing, and I continued to walk.

  My nose was cold, and I was having to wipe it frequently, but I was enjoying myself. The solitude gave me time to think.<
br />
  I meant every word I’d said to Ronan. Until he dealt with his grief, for both Demi and his mother, any potential partner of his would forever be walking on eggshells and that wasn’t something I was prepared to do. I could accommodate baggage. I had a fucking trunk load myself, but I had put aside my hurt ready to embrace another relationship, and I didn’t believe that Ronan had.

  Thoughts whirled around my head, and the walk wasn’t exactly clearing them, nor was it putting them in any real order. There was a small part of my mind telling me to pack up, get back home so I could sort out my flat and prepare for my move. There was another part that didn’t want to. I’d fallen for Ronan, I knew that, and maybe I was a sucker for punishment hanging around while I knew that my feelings wouldn’t be returned.

  I decided I needed half an hour of no thoughts. I’d taken a meditation class once, just the once, I remember falling asleep and being woken after everyone had left with drool down my cheek. I never went back, obviously. I did recall a technique to empty my mind. I tried, and it sort of worked. Instead of Ronan, I had the words, ‘empty my mind’ floating around my head. I chuckled and decided to sing to myself instead.

  Now, I don’t profess to be anywhere near what most would call a singer. I scream in the shower, and when doing housework, that’s it. I was neither, but I was alone. Just as I was about to open my mouth, I saw all the birds from one tree squawk and fly away. It was followed by an eerie silence. I stood and looked around me. I checked my watch and was shocked to see I had been walking for over two hours. If I had been on the right path for the gatehouse, I should have arrived by then. I heard male voices, and I was about to call out when instinct told me to keep quiet. I darted into the tree line and waited.

  From the trees opposite came two men, both were dressed as if about to tackle some insurgents in the Middle East. They were camouflaged from head to toe. I covered my mouth to stifle a nervous giggle. One had green and black paint over his face, and the other had a balaclava that was rolled up under his nose to expose his mouth. Maybe breathing through that wool wasn’t pleasant. Both, however, carried shotguns.

 

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