“Gotcha,” she says.
I narrow my eyes. “Going to be like that is it?”
She pouts. “What’s the matter? You can’t handle a little splashing?”
“If its war you want, you asked for it.” I cup my hands and splash back at her.
She laughs and lays on her back in the water, using her feet to kick large quantities of water in my direction.
“Hey, that’s cheating,” I protest as it goes in my mouth and my eyes. There’s only one thing for it. I dive beneath the water and swim like an eel, streamlined and fast, and she is caught unaware by my speed. I see her legs kick as she tries to swim away but I’m too fast, and I slide my hands around her waist and pull her beneath the surface. Her eyes are open and startled, and for a second I think I have taken it too far and have scared her, but then she reaches out and wraps her hands around my neck and we burst back above the water together, laughing.
“Not fair,” she exclaims. “You’re like a dolphin in the water.”
I shrug, acutely aware of the close proximities of our bodies. “I warned you.”
Up close I can see her green eyes are flecked with blue, like the ocean we are swimming in. She has a light dusting of freckles on her nose and I stare, fighting the urge to kiss them.
Her fingers curl into my hair and she lifts her legs to wrap them around my waist. The intensity and recklessness in her eyes takes my breath away.
“Do it,” she dares, as our bodies rise and fall with the swell of the ocean.
I lean forward and kiss her. Lightly on the tip of her nose at first. She closes her eyes and moans softly. I kiss her eyelids, her cheeks, and finally her mouth. She is salty from the water and it is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. Her lips part under my hunger and our tongues meet. Her body is tight against mine, like she doesn’t want to let go.
She needn’t worry though, because now that she’s here in my arms, I have no intention of letting go either.
Maddy
I don’t realise I’ve been asleep until I wake, the sound of the waves on the shore edging into my dreams. At first I think it is just a dream, then I shift and feel warm flesh against my side, flesh that is not my own. My eyes fly open.
Albert.
The beach.
Our kisses.
It all comes flooding back. He is asleep on the grass beside me and I carefully raise myself up on one elbow without waking him. My towel is half underneath me; I scooped it up on our way up here earlier, so I wriggle my butt to free it and drape it over myself gratefully. We are in the dunes underneath the shade of the same Pohutukawa tree that was privy to my nakedness this morning. Once again it has protected my modesty, sheltering Albert and I as we made love in the tussocks. There is no one on the beach, the fisherman left while we were still in the water. Perhaps he was embarrassed by us, or thought we’d scare away all the fish. I wouldn’t blame him, but I really don’t care.
I can’t believe I just made love outside, on a beach, to a guy I haven’t known all that long. It’s the wildest thing I’ve ever done, hands down. And I don’t regret it at all.
“Hey,” he murmurs beside me and I turn my head to look down at him. By rights I should be embarrassed. God knows what he must think of me right now. “So that was…” He pauses.
“Unexpected?”
“I was going to say fun. But that’s not quite the word I’m looking for.”
“Just so you know,” I start to say but he holds up a finger to silence me.
“Wait, I know what you’re going to say. You don’t make a habit of this, right?”
I grimace. “Right.”
“Good. I’d hate to think you peel off your bikini for just anyone.”
I clap my hands over my mouth as his words invoke a memory. I did that, didn’t I, I actually pulled my bikini top off while we were in the water and simply let it go. It’s probably half way to china right now.
He lifts his torso up off the ground and gently pushes me back down, dipping his head to nuzzle at my skin. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
“You’re not so bad looking yourself.” I find it hard to breathe when he’s so close. His skin and hair smell of the sea and the sun.
“Why thanks.”
“Maddy.” He looks intensely into my eyes and I get the feeling he’s about to say something deeply profound.
“Yes?”
“Are you ready for round two?”
I choke on a splutter. “What?”
He laughs. “You should see your face. I’m talking about another swim, what did you think I meant?”
“Jerk.” I sit up and push him away from me, pretending to be upset.
“Hey, I’m also up for that if you are?”
But I’ve been crazy enough for one day. I’m still trying to wrap my head around doing it the first time. Anyone could have turned up and seen us. Even though the beach is deserted we didn’t exactly stop to make sure that was the case when we were busy going at it. I shudder when I realise that I could have been one of those idiots who gets caught in public and ends up on the internet.
“No,” I say firmly. “Once was quite enough.”
“Shame. Ok then, how about that swim.”
I check the sky to try and gauge how long we have been asleep. The sun is lower in the sky to the left than it was earlier.
“It’s mid-afternoon,” Albert says, reading my mind. “Two - thirty to be precise.” He lifts his wrist up to show me the time on his black cuff watch.
“I’d better be getting back,” I say reluctantly. “Sorry.”
“Hey, you never need to apologise to me about your responsibilities, ok? I completely understand.”
“Thanks.”
He gets to his feet and pulls me up. My towel slips, exposing one breast and he draws in his breath audibly.
“Sorry.” I say, restoring it.
“Don’t be,” he says. “In fact do it again if you like.”
We collect our things off the beach and he pauses to survey the ocean. I can sense melancholy from him that we are leaving, and I don’t blame him. He’s clearly in his element here.
“We’ll come back again soon,” I say, even though I don’t normally like to make promises I can’t be sure I’ll keep.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
We make the trip back to the city in silence, listening to mellow music on the radio. I keep getting flashbacks that make me squeeze my eyes shut in disbelief at behaviour so far removed from who I normally am. It was like I had a whole bunch of pent up crazy in me, just waiting for the opportunity to get out.
When we pull up outside my home and he cuts the engine I don’t get out immediately. Inside the house I am needed. Out here I am wanted. I’m not ready to say goodbye to him just yet.
“So,” I say, my hand on the door handle.
“So.”
“I had a good day.”
“Me too. Sorry again about the whole surprise thing.”
“No it’s fine. I guess I can admit that some surprises aren’t all that bad.”
“I’m glad I changed your mind.”
“Do you want to come in?” I ask quickly, before I can think too hard about it and chicken out. I’m not sure he’s ready to meet my mother, but on the other hand if he’s going to be put off by her its better I find out sooner rather than later.
“I’d love to,” he smiles.
We shuffle up the garden path and I try hard not to look at it through his eyes. My mother and I aren’t gardeners or handy people, but even if we were we don’t have the luxury of time to get anything done. Any gardens that were here when we moved in have long since self seeded back into patchy lawns, although every now and then a flower pops up randomly as if to guiltily remind us of what once was. The house is likewise in a state of disrepair, its orange brickwork chipped and cracking. The bottom step droops to an angle on the right that hints at drainage issues underneath the soil; issues we are choosing to ignore until
we are left with no other option.
“How was the beach?” Mum calls from down the hallway as I usher Albert into the lounge. “I hope you weren’t mad at your friend for surprising you. I thought it was a wonderful thing to do.”
“It was fine mum.”
“I knew it, I knew you’d have a good time. Now tell me everything. What’s he like? Did he kiss you? Are you seeing him again?” She emerges from the hallway drying her hands and stops short when she sees the subject of her interrogation standing awkwardly in front of her.
“Oh,” she says. “Hello. You must be Albert?”
“Al-bear, actually,” I smirk.
Mum’s forehead creases in a frown as she mouths it. “Bear? As in, Koala bear? Teddy bear?’
Albert sighs and casts me a wounded look. “It’s the French pronunciation of Albert,” he says. “Blame my mother.”
“Us mother’s tend to get blamed for an awful lot.”
“Usually with good reason,” I say pointedly. “What’s for dinner? Is it ok if Albert stays?”
“Roast with all the trimmings, and of course he can. The more the merrier. You know my open door policy.”
“Only if there’s enough -?” Albert says politely.
“Oh yes there’s plenty. I always do more than we girls can eat,” she titters as if we are fragile Shakespearean heroines. “Do you like Lamb?”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t?”
She titters again and makes a face at me that I think I’m supposed to take as signifying her approval. Either that or she’s just felt the urge for a painful bowel movement.
As she brushes past us on her way to the kitchen she hisses in my ear. “He’s very good looking isn’t he!”
Of course he hears her because she’s not exactly subtle, and his cheeks redden.
“Could you be any more embarrassing mum?” I complain.
“What?” she says innocently. “I was just admiring your young man.”
“He’s not ‘my’ young man, and you’re not old enough to talk like that. Now go away.”
“Ok ok, I can take a hint.”
She disappears into the kitchen.
“Um, do you have a toilet I could use?” Albert asks.
“No, sorry, it’s out of order.” I gesture over my shoulder with a thumb. “We just go out the back behind a tree. But if it’s number two we throw it over the neighbour’s fence. We don’t really get on with them.”
His eyes widen and the look on his face is hysterical. “I’m not surprised,” he says.
I can’t help the laughter that bubbles up until I’m leaning against the hall wall with my legs crossed trying not to wet myself because I’m laughing so hard.
“Oh my god your face,” I wheeze in between guffaws.
He gives me a wry look. “You had me going there funny girl, but only for like a second.”
I straighten up and get myself back under control. “Down the end of the hall, last door on the right.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be in the lounge when you’re finished.”
“Which is?”
I point. “Through there.”
“Ok.”
I find Bee on the floor in front of the couch, intently watching something on her laptop.
“Hey Bee, what are you watching?” At first I’m not sure exactly what it is that I’m looking at when I look at the screen. I’m expecting her to be watching Postman Pat or something similar, because she loves cartoons, but this looks nothing like any cartoon I’ve ever seen. I stare at it for a moment, puzzled, before Albert walks into the lounge and distracts me. He has a smirk on his face.
“Something funny?”
“No, nothing. I was just admiring the poster in your toilet.”
I cringe. Dammit. I’d forgotten about that. “Shut up.”
“It’s a stunner. Collectable is it?”
“I wouldn’t know. It’s not mine.”
“Not yours? I find that a little hard to believe considering it’s your namesake.”
His eyes are alight with mischief as he waits for my reaction.
“I can always revoke the dinner invitation,” I warn. “Send you on your merry way out into the cold dark night to fend for yourself.”
He checks his watch. “First of all, it’s just gone five, so hardly night. And it’s fairly mild out there, on account of it being summer and all, so I think I’d survive.” He sees me start to open my mouth and raises a hand. “Tut tut, don’t interrupt, I haven’t finished.”
I’m too astounded at being tutted at to say anything, and he takes the advantage to carry on.
“However,” he continues. “I’d quite like the pleasure of your company for as long as possible, so consider me warned. I won’t say another word about it.” He makes a zipping motion across his lips.
“Another word about what?” Mum has come into the lounge so quietly I don’t realise she’s standing behind me until she speaks.
“Nothing.”
“I was just admiring the poster on your toilet door,” Albert says. “Is that Madonna’s actual signature?”
Now he’s done it. I give him a look to say he’s just opened a can of worms, but his faux innocent smile tells me he’s already well aware of that fact, and he’s not sorry either.
“It sure is,” mum answers proudly.
“Wow.”
“Isn’t she just fab,” mum says breathily like the star struck fan she is. “That woman sure knows how to age gracefully.”
“I think you’re confusing the definition mum,” I roll my eyes. “And if you start flashing your bits around in public when you’re in your fifties I’ll disown you, seriously.”
Mum pokes her tongue out at me. “Yeah yeah, so you keep saying.”
“I mean it.”
“Have you always been a fan?” Albert asks.
“Oh yes, always. In fact I got that poster after one of her concerts you know,” she says proudly. “Of course that’s not all I got.”
She sees my warning look and shuts up.
“It’s a great poster,” Albert tells her.
“It’s not in as good a condition as it used to be unfortunately.” She looks at me accusingly when she says this, but I don’t feel guilty, as she well knows.
“It’s not?” he looks from mum to me.
“Notice the orange stain by her crotch?” I say.
“Yeah I think so.”
“Spaghetti sauce. Leftovers in the wheelie bin I threw it in.”
“Oh.”
“And the brown smudge under her left armpit?”
“Chocolate?”
“Mud. From over the neighbour’s fence.”
Mum sighs heavily.
“At least we hope its mud,” I continue. “They do own a dog.”
“So wait. You mean to say that you threw it away? On purpose? Wow. That’s sacrilege, surely.”
Mum nods in agreement.
“Several times,” I nod. “It’s like a boomerang though, keeps coming back.”
Albert laughs.
“It’s not funny.”
“It kind of is.”
“Well of course you’d think that, Al-bear.”
“Exactly. I know how you feel when it comes to crappy names. And in my humble experience, there’s not much you can do except laugh about it.”
“Madonna is not a crappy name,” my mother protests. “It’s unique. Original. Well, not original obviously, but you know what I mean.”
“It is crappy mum. And then you went and trumped it by saddling Bee with a name like Beyonce.”
Mum purses her lips. “Ok that one wasn’t my finest moment, I’ll admit. But I couldn’t imagine her being anything else now. Could you?”
We all watch my sister. As if she feels the weight of our eyes on her, she looks up.
“Oh the twins have been busy,” she says. “You little monkeys.”
“Is that, -” Albert leans forward to peer at Bee’s screen. “Is she
watching men paint lines on tarmac?”
We all peer at it.
“Yes,’ mum sighs. “She finds these videos on You Tube and can watch them for hours. God only knows why. Maybe she finds it soothing. The other day I found her watching a tutorial on ‘how to make a mini lathe’.
“It would be so interesting to see inside her head,” Albert says.
Mum shakes her head. “You are preaching to the converted. I’d give anything to know what goes on under these curls.” She wraps her arms around my sister and nuzzles into her hair.
A buzzer sounds from the kitchen and snaps mum from her melancholy. “Time to add the carrots. Dinner won’t be far away now.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Albert asks.
“Thank you that’s a sweet offer, but you’re our guest. You guys just hang out in here while I finish up.”
She rubs her hands together and smiles rosily like some fifties housewife.
“You could listen to some music,” she suggests.
“We’ll be fine, mum.”
When she’s gone I grimace at Albert. “Sorry about that. She’s not used to me bringing company back to the house.”
“Should I be honoured or afraid?”
I shrug. “Maybe a little bit of both.”
With a wary glance towards the door to make sure my mother isn’t still within eyesight, he snuggles closer to me on the couch and drapes an arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his side. His lips graze my forehead lightly, sending shock waves through my body.
“Does this mean you haven’t liked another boy enough to share him with your family before?”
I rest a hand on his thigh, feeling his muscle tense underneath my fingers. I will never get tired of that feeling. “Maybe,” I tease. “Or maybe I just didn’t want to subject anyone to the horror that is my family. Maybe you’re the first one who I thought could handle it.”
He gives a deep sigh, and I feel the ripples fan out through his body to vibrate against my ribs. “Your family are not horrible.”
“I wasn’t meaning Bee.”
“Even your mum. She’s nice. You want a horror story you wait till you meet mine.” He shakes his head. “You guys are like the bloody Partridge family compared to my lot.”
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