Wife on the Run

by Fiona Higgins

  She made small talk as she held the door open.

  How was your flight?

  Have you been to Mandurah before?

  Mind the step.

  Then she showed him down a dimly lit hallway, with several closed doors on either side.

  She opened the first one. ‘This is Lisel’s room. She’s still at work.’

  It was a shrine to pink and purple. A single bed was adorned with a heart-shaped cushion inscribed with the word ‘LOVE’. A white French provincial bed-head, with chiffon scarves wound around its cast-iron knobs. A framed version of the photo Lisel used for her Skype profile stood on a desk, next to a computer covered with a pink dust protector.

  Toni flicked off the light and shut the door again.

  ‘That’s my room,’ she said, gesturing to a closed door, ‘and here’s the bathroom. But you can use the laundry next to your room, it has a toilet and a shower. Here’s the kitchen and the lounge room.’

  They walked through the living area.

  ‘And this is the guest room.’ She opened the door. ‘Quietest spot in the house. When the washing machine’s not on.’ She laughed.

  Inside, the furniture was minimal: just a bed and a desk with a computer on it. Double doors led out to a leafy balcony overlooking the garden. He noticed the folded towel, the face washer, two small canisters of shampoo and conditioner. Nice touches, typical of a mothering type. Paula would have done the same thing, he thought involuntarily.

  ‘Thank you for having me at such short notice.’

  ‘No trouble,’ said Toni. ‘We’ve done it before.’

  We. In the absence of a husband, Hamish wondered how many other family members there might be.

  ‘Is it just you and your daughter?’

  ‘Yes. My husband passed away three years ago.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s been tough, being alone.’ Toni shrugged. ‘But it’s getting a little easier now.’

  Suddenly Hamish began to wonder whether he shouldn’t just leave before Lisel arrived home. Toni’s single-parenting woes weren’t something he wanted to hear right now.

  ‘Would you like some dinner?’ she asked. ‘You must be hungry.’

  ‘Ah, no, thank you.’

  She waited, as if for an explanation.

  ‘I had a meal earlier. And I’ve got to . . . prepare for tomorrow.’

  ‘Where are you doing the training?’ she asked. ‘At school?’

  He tried to recall the story he’d agreed with Lisel. ‘I’m not sure. I’ll check the schedule.’

  ‘I can give you a lift to wherever you need to go.’ She smiled. ‘Just let me know tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  He’d have to consult with Lisel and determine a way to decline Toni’s offer.

  ‘It’s Year Nine you’re training, isn’t it?’

  He nodded in a noncommittal way.

  ‘Must be difficult playing soccer when you’ve got a sore leg and . . .’ She pointed at his hand. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I hurt it boxing.’

  It was the first thing that came to mind, his boxing classes in Glen Waverley. He’d sprained a finger that way before.

  ‘And the leg?’ She eyed his knee brace.

  ‘Skiing accident,’ he said. ‘But it’s completely healed. I’m just wearing the brace for support.’

  ‘You’re certainly very active.’ She laughed. ‘But then you are a sports teacher.’ She kept smiling, until he looked away. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ he said. ‘Goodnight, Toni.’

  ‘Sleep well,’ she said, closing the guest-room door behind her.

  13

  He’d been waiting for what felt like hours. After a shit, a shower, and a shave, his usual routine.

  Forty-five minutes had passed since Lisel was supposed to arrive home. He’d peeked out into the lounge room once, to find everything in darkness. Toni’s bedroom door, at the other end of the hallway, was closed. He’d heard her retire just before ten, after she’d finished the last of the dishes and watched a bit of television.

  Still, they’d have to be careful not to wake her, Hamish thought. Vigilant bloody mothers—everything they did would have to be super silent.

  The idea revved him up even more.

  He was wearing a pair of red cotton boxers and a new grey t-shirt. Not that she’d see them up close, they couldn’t even risk turning on the light. He reached beneath the bed and found the small tin of mints he’d secreted there, next to the packet of condoms.

  And then, a sound.

  The softest click of a door handle being turned.

  A lithe silhouette appeared in the doorway for a moment, then the door closed again.

  ‘Hamo?’

  ‘Lisel?’ He sat up in the bed. ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Shhh.’

  He saw nothing, but he could sense her closer now. He could smell her, a sweet, freshly-showered fragrance of jasmine and musk.

  His dick throbbed against his boxers.

  ‘Lie down,’ she whispered. ‘We can’t wake Mum.’

  ‘I want to hold you . . .’

  ‘Shhh.’ A fingertip touched his lips.

  He felt soft hands on his shoulders, lightly pushing him back onto the bed.

  He waited, feverish with anticipation.

  Suddenly she straddled him, her thighs next to his hips. She lowered her pelvis against his and began to rub herself against him. He gasped and almost creamed himself on the spot.

  ‘Lisel . . .’

  She cupped a gentle hand over his mouth. ‘Shhh.’

  His hands stroked the side of her thighs; she was wearing light cotton pants, pyjamas maybe. His right hand was bruised, he couldn’t feel anything with it. But he sure as hell could feel her crotch rubbing against his.

  She pushed his t-shirt up and over his head. He reached up to do the same, but she caught hold of his hands.

  ‘Hold this,’ she whispered, guiding his hands to the cast-iron bed-head behind him. Then, he felt fabric against his wrists, being looped around and around.

  ‘What . . . ?’

  ‘Just scarves,’ she whispered, giggling a little.

  She pulled the fabric tight, fastening his wrists to the bedhead.

  He felt his cock deflate a little. Lisel was clearly more experienced than most girls her age.

  She lay her chest against his and murmured in his ear, ‘You are so hot, Hamo.’

  His cock lurched upwards again.

  He strained to kiss her, but without the use of his arms, he couldn’t reach her.

  ‘Please, Lisel. Kiss me.’

  Their lips met and he tasted her for the first time; minty, like she’d just brushed her teeth. Her soft tongue flickered expertly around his, before pulling his tongue hard into her mouth.

  ‘We don’t have much time, Hamo,’ she whispered. ‘Fuck me now.’

  He groaned aloud.

  ‘Shhh.’

  Her weight shifted and she lifted her pelvis from his. Then suddenly she moved off the bed.

  The scarves around his wrists gave a little, but he left them there. He heard fabric dropping to the floor, the soft sound of Lisel removing her clothes.

  Suddenly she tugged at his boxers, pulling them down his legs and off his feet.

  He waited, his cock pushing up into the air, desperate to be inside her.

  ‘The condoms are under the bed,’ he whispered.

  He sensed her reaching for the small packet he’d stashed there, before hearing the sound of a plastic sachet being opened. He hated condoms—but teenage pregnancy scared him more. Then he felt her fingers touching the head of his rod. Her lips over the top, drawing him into her mouth, deeper and deeper.

  He arched his back, on the verge of orgasm.

  ‘Lisel, I—’

  She drew back immediately, leaving his dick wet and pulsing.

  He waited, his heart thudding in his ears.

  T
hen he felt the rubber ring on the tip of his cock, slowly rolling down his shaft. Gently but firmly, getting it right.

  She pressed the base of his cock harder than he would have liked. His dick sagged a little with the force.

  And then she was on the bed again, hovering over him, legs straddling his hips.

  She waited, teasing him until he couldn’t stand it any longer. Then she sank onto his cock.

  He hissed aloud.

  She began switching her hips back and forth.

  The sweet intoxication of being inside her, finally, after fantasising about it for so long. It was building for him, faster than ever before.

  ‘Lisel, I’m—’

  She moaned aloud and thrashed her hips; he could feel her contracting around his cock.

  That was enough for him.

  He exploded into the condom as she collapsed on top of him, whimpering a little. They lay panting together in the darkness.

  ‘That was amazing,’ he whispered, feeling his heartbeat thumping at his temples. ‘I’ve wanted you forever.’

  He felt her tits now, against his chest. He wanted to reach up and hold them in his hands, soft and smooth.

  His dick started to tingle again, even though he’d just dropped his load. She’d had that effect on him right from the beginning.

  He began to work his wrists out of the scarves she’d used to tie him up. ‘I want to see you,’ he whispered, pulling one hand free. ‘Let’s switch on the light, your mum won’t wake up.’

  ‘But we’re dead if she does,’ she whispered back, rolling off the bed.

  ‘Lisel . . .’ He pulled the other hand free and sat up, groping for the bedside lamp. He could sense her moving away, but he didn’t want her to go.

  ‘Wait,’ he called.

  ‘I have to work tomorrow,’ she said. He heard the sound of the door handle being turned softly.

  And then she was gone.

  Hamish lay in the unlit room, his eyes wide open, half shocked, half elated by what he’d just done. He stroked his chest, absently twisting the hairs that sprang from it. He could feel a slight twinge in his hip flexors; the aftermath of all that thrusting.

  Damn, it felt good.

  He mightn’t have a foreign accent, but he still knew how to satisfy a woman; Lisel had practically mewed like a kitten. After the big dry with Paula—she hadn’t had an orgasm for months—it was reassuring to know that the problem didn’t reside with him.

  The mental image of his wife assailed him.

  As of right now, I am an adulterer.

  ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  Hamish looked at the bowl of granola and fruit that Toni placed in front of him. A pot of freshly brewed coffee and a small jug of milk rested on a placemat nearby.

  ‘You certainly know how to look after your guests.’ He poured himself a cup of coffee, avoiding her gaze.

  ‘Lisel told me you’re teaching Year Seven at Cottesloe today. And you don’t need a lift?’

  ‘That’s right.’ He glanced at Lisel’s bedroom door, thankful she’d spoken to her mother. Wondering when she’d done it; he hadn’t heard them talking.

  As if reading his mind, Toni explained, ‘she woke up early and went back to bed. She was exhausted, poor thing.’

  Hamish was relieved. He realised he didn’t want to see Lisel. In fact, all he wanted to do was get out.

  ‘McDonald’s is terrible, rostering kids so late on a school night,’ Toni continued. ‘But it’s a twenty-four-hour restaurant, so there’s always plenty of work. And without Lisel’s dad around anymore . . .’ She looked pensive. ‘It’s a big help with the pocket money.’

  She passed a jug of orange juice to Hamish.

  ‘So, how long have you been teaching?’

  He almost choked on his granola.

  ‘Oh, well, let’s see.’ He looked at the ceiling, as if mentally calculating his length of service. ‘Seventeen years now. Gets away on you.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s what happens when you enjoy something.’

  ‘Yes, I love it,’ he continued, because he felt he had to. ‘Teaching’s the most satisfying job on the planet. Helping young minds to flourish. I wouldn’t do anything else.’ He needed to deflect her attention. ‘What do you do, Toni?’

  ‘I work in child protection with the police.’

  He swallowed. ‘You’re a police officer?’

  She laughed. ‘No, no, I’m an administrator. I’ve been seconded to the police from my job in the Department for Child Protection.’

  So she was a public servant. He heaved an internal sigh of relief.

  ‘Sounds interesting,’ he lied.

  Toni proffered a plate of toast. ‘Well, I don’t think I’d describe it as interesting. Reading about kids whose lives have been wrecked by domestic violence, sexual abuse, that sort of thing. It’s usually all within the family, of course. Or people known to the family.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Hamish, beginning to feel uncomfortable. ‘Society needs people like you, helping those poor kids.’

  He directed the conversation towards more mundane topics; the weather in Perth, its tourist attractions and Toni’s life story. It was far safer to keep the conversation squarely focused on her. And she wasn’t entirely uninteresting, having worked in Edinburgh, Toronto and Alice Springs. She was particularly passionate about Indigenous issues; her face went a youthful pink when talking about her work in Australia’s red centre.

  When that topic was exhausted, her eyes met his. She smiled in a conspiratorial kind of way.

  ‘Will you be wanting dinner tonight?’ she asked. ‘I’m slow-cooking a sausage hotpot.’

  ‘No, thanks.’ This was his chance to escape. ‘I received a message that tomorrow’s training’s been cancelled,’ he lied, gesturing at his mobile phone. ‘So I won’t have to stay another night after all.’

  ‘Oh.’ She looked disappointed. ‘Why?’

  He struggled to think of a reason. ‘Some staffing mix-up.’

  He pushed his chair back from the breakfast table. ‘Thanks, Toni, I’d better be going.’

  She stood up too, blocking his exit. Her hair fell across her shoulders, and her robe slipped open at the chest.

  ‘Let’s go wake Lisel up,’ she said suddenly. ‘I’m sure she’d love to meet you before you go.’

  Hamish watched her float down the hallway in the direction of Lisel’s bedroom.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, looking over her shoulder at him.

  As she walked, her robe unwound itself. When she turned again, he caught sight of two long, slender legs. White as white against a short black negligee.

  He forced his gaze upwards.

  ‘What?’ she asked with a small smile.

  Was she flirting with him?

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

  She stood for a moment, her hands on her hips, looking at him with cool green eyes.

  ‘Come on, let’s wake Lisel.’ She beckoned to him with one finger. ‘It’s time she got up.’

  ‘Please, let her sleep,’ he objected, following Toni down the hallway. ‘She mightn’t . . .’

  ‘Shhh.’ She turned at the doorway and smiled like they were sharing a secret. ‘Let’s surprise her.’

  She opened the door.

  Sunlight speared into the room of pink. There was no one in the single bed, but he noticed the open book on the bedside table, a half-drunk orange juice, an iPod recharging at the wall.

  ‘Where’s Lisel?’ he asked.

  Toni shook the bathrobe off her shoulders. ‘Right here.’

  Hamish stared at her.

  ‘You don’t think a seventeen-year-old could give you a ride like last night, do you?’

  She walked over to the single bed and climbed atop on all fours, facing away from him. Then she flicked up her negligee, revealing two firm white buttocks and a ginger bush below.

  ‘You need a woman of experience for a fuck like that.’


  Jesus. Hamish began to back away.

  ‘Can’t handle the truth, Hamo?’ Toni sprang off the bed, landing a metre from him. ‘We’ve both taken liberties with it.’

  He fled down the hallway, through the lounge room and into the guest room, slamming the door behind him. Panicked, he began piling things into his bag, fumbling with the zip.

  He heard the door open.

  She leaned against the doorframe, naked now. Speckled-egg skin, long limbs, tits like limp balloons. A too-old face on top of a sun-damaged neck.

  ‘I’m here for the taking, Hamo. We’re good together. I can set you off like a firecracker.’

  Hamish swallowed, immobilised.

  A loud buzzing echoed along the hallway; an impertinent, imperative sound.

  Neither of them moved.

  Then it buzzed again, another three times.

  ‘Just let me get rid of that.’ Toni took a bath towel from the back of the chair and wrapped it around herself.

  She began walking towards the intercom in the hallway.

  Hamish heard the pinging sound of the elevator’s arrival in the vestibule beyond the front door.

  Toni wheeled around. ‘Hide,’ she hissed.

  He stood rooted to the spot.

  ‘Fucking hide, I said.’

  She slammed the guest-room door in his face.

  He heard the sound of a key in the lock, and the front door opening.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ Toni cooed in a syrupy tone. ‘Did you forget something?’

  ‘My iPod.’ A youthful voice.

  Hamish seized his bag, threw open the door and barged across the living area and down the hallway.

  He stopped at the sight of the girl in the doorway.

  Lisel. In all her perfection.

  Tall, with deer-like limbs protruding from her blue school uniform. Breasts sitting high on her chest, porcelain skin, rosebud lips. Everything he’d ever imagined, and more.

  Eyes that looked right through him.

  ‘Who’s this?’ she demanded of her mother.

  ‘A friend.’ Toni pushed the iPod into her daughter’s hand.

  ‘I can see that.’ Lisel’s tone was petulant. ‘You said you weren’t going to do this again. I’m telling Dad.’

  Dad?

  ‘Don’t you dare.’ Toni lunged at her daughter, but Lisel dodged and bolted out the front door.