Tara

by Lesley Pearse

  There was no other man on the beach with a body so perfect. His shoulders rippled with muscle, his smooth, hairless chest was already tanned from his work outside. Mentally her fingers were reaching out to stroke him, yet if she moved the blissful spell would be broken.

  His face was coming down to hers, she saw his lips part and eyes soften with desire. The kiss found her ear, nuzzling at her lobes, tongue running lightly round the rim, then moved across her cheek to find her lips.

  She had received many different kinds of kisses from him, but this kiss now was in a different league. It spoke of knowledge that she wouldn't rebuff him, that their friendship had only one way to go. But at the same time he was reassuring her she could call a halt if she wished to.

  She found herself moving slowly on to her back, her arms coming up to hold him, and as his chest touched her breasts it was as if a touch paper had been lit. Salt on his lips, the sensual slide of his tongue on hers, even the smell of his skin and hair told her that this was meant to be. The tender way he held her face, his fingers running through her hair, the cry of seagulls high above and the waves breaking further down the beach, all made it a moment so perfect she wanted it to last forever.

  'It's beautiful, isn't it?' he said softly, his nose rubbing against hers, blue eyes smiling. 'Let's go and eat. It won't go away now.'

  She thought of that last sentence as she watched him at the bar. His shirt was open, showing a smooth, dark brown chest and rock-hard stomach. A little dark hair sprouted just above the zip on his jeans. She imagined slowly lowering that zip and sliding her hand inside.

  'It won't go away.' He had said words she didn't know she wanted to hear. Not the standard cliche of 'I love you' or 'I want you', which could mean today, but not tomorrow. He knew whatever it was between them would be with them next week, next year, forever.

  It was almost three when they came blinking out into the sunshine. They had talked constantly yet about nothing, laughing and sitting close, their fingers twining round one another's in a silent message of trust.

  The beach was crowded now, children running shrieking in and out of the sea, teenage boys playing football, groups of girls strolling along arm in arm looking for boys to flirt with.

  They found a few square feet of space, close to the promenade wall, spread out their towels, and Harry stripped off to his swimming trunks he'd kept on under his clothes.

  Tara had the pants of her bikini on, but the top caused her problems as she tried to fasten it under her dress.

  'Let me do it' Harry shuffled up close behind her, reaching up under her dress for the bikini top.

  His hands were warm, lingering on her side as if unable to prevent himself fondling her, and he moved closer still to kiss the back of her neck.

  'You're giving me goose-pimples,' she whispered, not wanting him to stop.

  'Just the sight of your body is giving me an erection,' he whispered in her ear. 'And that's a darned sight more awkward than goose-pimples on a beach!'

  'Well close your eyes and go to sleep,' she suggested, wanting to kiss and hold him so much she couldn't even look at him directly.

  He lay down on his side, propping himself up on one elbow. Tara finally got her dress off, folded it up neatly, then adjusted the top of her bikini before she lay down on her back.

  'What are we going to do?' He undulated his pelvis against hers and she felt for herself that he really did have an erection. His fingers dug into her side and his tongue flickered round her lips.

  'Lie here and sunbathe,' she whispered back.

  'I didn't mean right now.' His lips were playing with hers even as he spoke. 'I meant about wanting one another, needing to make love. What are we going to do about that?'

  'In the car?' she whispered back, blushing at her eagerness. 'A field?'

  'I want to make love to you! To have a feast, not a snack,' he whispered back, his hand touching her cheek, as light as a butterfly's wing. 'To fall asleep with you in my arms and to wake with the birds singing. Not ten minutes and being nervous that someone will see us.'

  'We could go to my flat?'

  'No, you wouldn't be mine back there,' he said, tracing round her nipple with one finger. 'Suppose we found a boarding house and stayed here?'

  'I'd be embarrassed.' She blushed. 'We haven't any luggage or anything. They'd know we weren't married!'

  'Who cares?' He smiled encouragingly. 'We just front it out, say we like it too much to go home. They don't care who we are or what we do.'

  She was still hesitant. 'What happens when we get home?' she asked.

  He leaned up on one elbow and looked down at her. His eyes said he understood.

  'I've known you since you were a little girl, Tara,' he said softly. 'Do you really think I only want you for a one-night stand?'

  'I can't be sure.' Her eyes filled with tears. 'My experiences of men haven't been too good.'

  'Then it's time I taught you to trust again!'

  'It's the only room we have left. I'm afraid it might be a bit noisy till after eleven because it's over the garden.'

  'You don't expect Southend to be quiet,' Harry said, winking at Tara and making her giggle. 'I expect we'll be down there boozing with them anyway.'

  The landlady had flame red hair, thinning and dull as if she permed it to death. Her eyebrows were pencilled on and she wore a gold Lurex blouse. She spoke very carefully, as if trying to pretend she wasn't a Cockney, but her blouse and her huge gold earrings gave her away.

  'Now just come on down to the bar if you need anything.' She looked round at them as she opened the door and smiled broadly. 'By the look of you two you won't be needing much help from anyone, but just in case!'

  'Oh, it's lovely!' Tara exclaimed when she saw the room. 'Look, Harry, it's so pretty!' The room had a ruffled pink bedspread, flouncy white curtains and a pink and white carpet. A pink velvet-studded headboard incorporated bedside lamps fringed with gold. Clearly the woman had the same over-feminine taste as Queenie.

  'Well, thank you dear.' The woman gave a tinkly little laugh that set her many chins wobbling. 'It was my room, but my legs get bad in the winter so I moved downstairs. The bathroom's just along the passage and you can have a meal in the bar tonight if you want. Breakfast any time from seven till nine. I'll leave you to settle in.'

  'The bed's OK.' Harry sat down the moment the door was shut, then made a trial bounce. 'Very soft and springy,' he added, smiling.

  'It's not too crappy, is it?' He came up behind Tara as she kneeled on the floor, looking out of the low window. He slid his hands under her arms, cupping her breasts in his hands. 'I wanted to make love to you somewhere beautiful!'

  'It's lovely, like being at your house,' she whispered.

  It had been so easy to talk all day, but now Tara was lost for words, and embarrassed. Had Harry thought of buying some Durex while she got the toothbrushes and paste? If she asked him would he be offended? Should she go off and wash first? What did people do at times like this?

  'What's wrong? Not second thoughts?' Harry's soft voice cut a swathe through her anxiety.

  'No,' she whispered.

  'Then kiss me!'

  She knew it was right the moment his lips touched hers. She felt herself lifted up, his arms around her tightly, lips still on hers as he moved with her to the bed.

  'You are the most beautiful girl in the world,' he said huskily as he undid her zip and used his lips to remove her shoulders straps. 'I've imagined this moment for so long that now it's here I'm afraid.'

  She lay back on the bed, her dress loosely covering her breasts, and held up her arms to him. His eyes held a message of love, his lips trembled, and as he moved down to her she caught his face in her hands, running her thumbs across his high cheek-bones. 'You're the beautiful one, Harry!'

  Simon and the other odd men who had flitted through her life were all she had to compare with Harry, but now she was mature enough to feel the difference when a man's heart and soul were engaged in l
ovemaking. His gasp as his hands touched her naked breasts for the first time wasn't lust, but the wonder of skin against soft skin, dreamed of for so long.

  It was the same for her, too, as she ran her hands down his back, fingers pressing into his spine. She loved his shudder of bliss, wanted to find a million ways of pleasing him.

  As his fingers found their way inside her she cried out involuntarily, arching her back away from the mattress, wanting him inside her now. She was burning up, shuddering with need. Her lips searched frantically for his, wanting to be possessed.

  'Please!' she heard her own hoarse whisper.

  'Please do what?' he whispered back, moving his lips down her breasts and on to her belly.

  'Please fuck me now.' She dug her fingers in his back, pulling him back to her.

  She didn't understand why he was rustling something. Even when she saw it was a Durex, she didn't feel relief, only irritation that something was slowing him down.

  'Oh, Tara!' he whispered, opening her legs and kneeling between them. 'Do you really want me that much?'

  His fingers went back inside her as she opened her eyes to look at him.

  'Yes,' she groaned.

  Hands lifted her buttocks, drawing her right up to him, and at last she felt him sliding into her.

  It was like riding on the Wild Mouse, climbing slowly higher and higher, then whooshing down with the wind catching her hair, only to spin round, then climb again. She was on fire, lips searching for his, every nerve ending tingling. An orgasm came like a rocket, she heard herself cry out, and while her body was still shuddering, sparks running through her veins, Harry thrust himself into her one last time.

  Voices outside the window brought them back to reality.

  'Get me a Snowball and a bag of cheese and onion crisps,' a female voice bellowed. 'And tell those little buggers to get off that garden or I'll do 'em a mischief.'

  'There should be someone playing a harp.' Harry nuzzled his lips in her hair, wrapped his arms round her and rolled her over so she was on top of him. 'Doesn't that peasant out there know she's close to heaven?'

  'It was heaven, wasn't it?' She sighed, rubbing her finger over sweat collected in the hollow of his chest.

  'We'll have to get up if we want food,' Harry said reluctantly. 'But at least that will give us the strength to carry on.'

  His stoical remark made her laugh, infecting him too. They rolled together, laughing until they were almost crying, and at that moment Tara knew for certain that she loved him.

  Everything made them laugh that night. The six-teen-stone woman with a voice like a fog-horn who spent the evening flitting between drinking large gins and going out to slap her children in the garden. There was the pretty but tarty blonde in a pair of skin-tight shorts who eyed up every man who walked in the bar. Then there was the prim twin-setted woman who held her man's hand across the table, but had eyes like a dead fish.

  'These people are supposed to be normal,' Harry sniggered as a perfectly ordinary-looking man suddenly burst into an Elvis Presley impersonation with a child's toy guitar. 'If they are, can you imagine what the ones locked up are like?'

  'You wait till you open the club,' Tara warned him. 'When I help out in the shop I'm staggered by the nutcases that come in. I bet they're queuing up already to visit you.'

  'What are we going to do when I open?' Harry was suddenly serious. 'You work all day, I'll be at it half the night. When will we see one another?'

  'There's early evenings.' Tara didn't even want to think about that yet. 'You'll be able to get off one night a week, won't you?'

  'I can't be sure of anything.' He sighed deeply. 'It's going to be an even bigger gamble than the game I won the place in. My customers will be villains and wide-boys in the main. I'll have to watch the staff like a hawk. I can't see me getting much time off. Not at first!'

  He told her a little of how he'd taken Duke Denning in as a shareholder in return for some capital. About the many merchant banks he'd talked to before he found someone prepared to make him a further loan. He told her for the first time that he'd studied book-keeping in prison. That he'd spent a whole two weeks gaining experience at nights in a West End gambling club belonging to another poker player called Alf Reed.

  'I didn't gamble.' He smiled at her worried look. 'Just served drinks and watched. Alf's been a great help, he even found me two straight blokes to work the tables.'

  She felt a little ashamed now that she'd doubted his ability to pull it off, especially as he'd never for one moment considered she couldn't become a designer.

  'Well, if you aren't going to get much time off, we'd better make the most of it now.' Tara moved nearer to kiss his cheek. 'Like now we could be tucked up in bed, not down here watching this circus.'

  The first bout of lovemaking had been frantic and fast, but now the pace was slower, each caress savoured, whispered endearments heightening the ecstasy.

  His tongue explored every part of her body, lapping at her till she was writhing under him, almost delirious with desire. The sheet beneath them was damp with sweat, pillows knocked to the floor as they rolled together as one.

  Sounds of children crying, a jukebox blaring out 'Hey Jude', and a buzz of conversation from the bar below wafted through the open window, but they barely heard it. The sun sank down into the sea, the lights went on in the funfair and along the promenade, but they could have been alone on a desert island, drowning in a sea of tenderness.

  When she came, she cried, holding his damp body to hers, his fingers still locked in her hair, and she knew he was her whole world.

  They drank a bottle of Tizer between them in great greedy gulps, till it spilled down their naked bodies and they licked it off each other. Then, propped up on the pillows, lying in each other's arms, they talked.

  Tara told him how she'd always felt like an outcast at school, how instead of trying to make friends she pretended she didn't want them.

  'When people started to say I was beautiful, I thought it was some kind of cruel game, really they were still laughing at me.'

  Harry looked at her face on his shoulder. The bedside lamp intensified the gold of her hair and the honey colour of her skin. He marvelled at the beauty of her amber eyes, the wide mouth, the small delicate nose and her perfect body. Yet he understood. He'd known her when all she saw was ugliness, remembered the little girl who took a poker to her father to protect Amy and Paul. The little girl who dressed painted pictures of brides, but never had a man standing beside them.

  'I always thought I was weird because I didn't have a mother.' He stroked her face gently. 'Like I wasn't good enough to have one, know what I mean?'

  Tara nodded.

  'I suppose that's why I was always the dare-devil, the kid that went too far. Robbing that warehouse was part of that.'

  'Mum and Gran will be wary about you because of it,' Tara reminded him. Her fingers crept up to touch his cheek-bones, tracing round the lines she'd drawn so often when she was a girl. 'They both like you, well, love you even. But they've both got this thing about dangerous men!'

  Harry smirked. 'Me, dangerous?'

  They're both convinced our family is stuck in some kind of tragic circle we can't break out of,' Tara said softly.

  'I'll win them over eventually.' Harry looked right into her eyes and she saw nothing but absolute sincerity.

  'Did you ever love anyone else?' she asked. She didn't want to know, yet she had to.

  'There's been loads of girls,' he said. 'But you know that, Tara. Sometimes I thought I was in love, especially when I was young. But I knew when I started to fall for you that none of that was for real.'

  'So when did you fall for me?' She giggled, snuggling closer into his arms with a delicious feeling of absolute safety.

  'I think it got going that day in the cowshed when you kissed me.' He smiled as he pictured her.

  'But you were horrible, you told me you had another girl?' She remembered how she'd cried up in her room.

&
nbsp; 'You were too young.' He kissed her forehead and smiled. 'But if you'd known what I was dreaming after that, you'd 'ave bin scarlet with embarrassment.'

  'Tell me now,' she said, doing the old pout.

  He bent his head to kiss her breasts. 'These figured in it a great deal,' he whispered. 'I used to imagine stripping off your school uniform and seeing your lovely little bum in tight white knickers.'

  She giggled. 'Well, I used to wonder how big your willie was.'

  'Is it as expected?'

  She looked down at it curled up amongst his dark pubic hair.

  'Not at this moment.' She bent to kiss it. 'But if I'd seen it like it was a little while ago it might have frightened me half to death.'

  It was dawn before sleep overtook them.

  'I love you,' Harry said just as her eyes finally closed, and it sounded to Tara as if he'd never said those words to anyone before. 'I always knew we were meant for one another.'

  Chapter 25

  'You look brown!' Miranda shouted above the sounds of 'Mony, Mony' as Tara walked into the shop just after ten in the morning. She was arranging some Indian cotton blouses on the central display, but she broke off and came closer. 'I hope you had a good time wherever you were, 'cos Josh is on the warpath!'

  Tara gulped. 'You did give him the message that I'd be another day, didn't you?' she asked.

  It was too early for customers; the other two shop girls were cleaning and straightening the rails.

  'Of course I did.' Miranda put a hand on Tara's arm, green eyes grinning wickedly. 'I don't think it was the days he was upset about, more the nights!'

  'Oh, shit!' Tara exclaimed, turning pale. 'Did he phone the farm?'

  ' 'Fraid so,' Miranda winced. 'He used the shop phone. When he put it down he said, "Fuckin lying bitch"! After that he was like a madman, none of us could do anything right. Where were you, anyway?'

  'Between you and me, off with Harry by the seaside.' Tara laughed nervously. 'Looks like I'll have to make a confession!'

  Miranda's eyes opened wide in alarm. 'You haven't got long to think up a good one.' She picked up the phone and shrugged her shoulders. 'He told me to ring him the second you walked through the door.'