He leaned his face towards hers until she could feel his warm breath on her face. Her heart beat quickened and she panicked. She placed her hands on his chest to gently push him away but as she did so, Mark placed his hand behind her head and pulled her towards him.
She stopped resisting as he pulled her mouth to his. She felt his lips on hers and she returned the kiss, softly and tentatively at first — but building as she moved her hands from his chest to his neck and ran her fingers into his hair, pulling him in deeper. He smelled faintly of sweat but it was the best scent she'd ever smelled and she breathed in, burying herself in him.
Then she pulled away gently, a stab of guilt pained her and she couldn’t ignore it. Her hands moved to his and she frowned at him in turmoil, opening her mouth to speak — to explain herself. But Mark placed a finger on her lips.
“It's okay. I understand,” he said, breathing heavily. He shot her a warm smile, but she could still see the hurt in his eyes. “Let's go get some food.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. They both went downstairs with Annie and ate in silence, too exhausted to speak and neither of them ready to talk about what had happened. The rice and soup dish was lukewarm from the old wood-burning stove but tasted better than anything they’d eaten in a while. They both relished every morsel.
When they’d finished, they said goodnight to Annie — who was too weary herself to notice the tension — and walked wearily back upstairs in silence. They climbed in bed still fully clothed.
As they lay in bed listening to Annie’s sudden snoring, Mark turned to face Sarah and smiled. “This is amazing,” he said, hugging the duvet.
She looked at him and smiled back, cuddling the duvet tight to her chest. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see a bed again,” she laughed. “Goodnight, Mark.”
“Goodnight gorgeous,” Mark said, taking her hand and kissing the top of it gently.
Mark turned off the lantern, covering the room in blackness. They laid quietly, thinking about all that had happened. None of it seemed real now they were in a nice, warm bed in a cosy cottage. They felt safe. And after ten minutes, they both slept soundly, exhausted from the day’s events.
Chapter 8
A delicious smell of garlic and tomatoes aroused Sarah from her slumber. She awoke at a dinner table. Long, red candles were lit in the middle, stood on a crimson tablecloth decorated with rose petals. Held on its surface were two empty plates and two half-filled wine glasses. On the plates were the remnants of a deep, red sauce. The lights were off, only the candles lit the room, causing shadows to dance around the walls like an eerie pantomime.
Sarah was content. She was full, as if she had recently eaten and she felt the warm, dizziness of being slightly intoxicated.
There was no one else in the room — the other chair was empty. A light shone through the bottom of a closed door at the end of the room. Shadows of someone's feet walked around the other side. Suddenly she remembered where she was. She was at home — her home with Jack.
It had been Valentine's Day, their second together. Jack had cooked her favourite pasta dish and they drank wine and talked. It had been a lovely night. Jack had gone to the bathroom before they settled down on the sofa to watch a horror movie. Some clichéd story of a few young people stuck on an island with a murderer. Sarah had loved those films.
Jack had been in there for a long time. No sounds came from the bathroom, but his feet still shadowed under the door. He was standing at the sink.
“Jack?” she called, walking to the bathroom door.
No reply.
“Are you okay in there?” she asked, reaching for the door handle.
No reply. The tap was running in the sink.
She opened the door slowly, waiting for his response. Nothing again, so she walked slowly inside. The light was on and Jack was leaning over with his head over the sink. He was breathing heavily.
“Did you drink too much wine again?” Sarah asked, laughing quietly. She walked to his side, placing her hand on his back and rubbing gently.
Jack moaned. It was short and croaky in his throat.
“I'm sorry, I was joking, honey. Do you want a drink of water?” Sarah reached to stroke his hair and he slowly lifted his head up. She stood behind him and couldn't see his face, but as he raised his head upwards, his reflection slowly appeared in the mirror.
“I...don't feel so good,” he said, raising his head.
Sarah froze. Her throat tightened. She removed her hand from Jack's head with a start, as if she had been electrocuted.
“Oh my God, Jack!”
“What...what's wrong?” he said. He turned to face her.
Sarah backed away from him, the desire to run from the room was becoming too strong to ignore.
“What is it?!” he yelled, his voice cracked as he spoke, turning into a gravelly voice she didn't recognize.
She turned around to run but he grabbed her arm.
“Don't you love me anymore, baby?” he said, his croaking voice filled with cruel amusement.
She turned to face him again, shaking with fear. Sweat dripped down her face.
She saw his face for the last time as purple boils appeared on his cheeks, oozing with pus. Parts of his skin rotted off before her eyes and fell to the floor. His mouth contorted into a snarling grin and he flashed his rotting teeth. His eyes were wide with rage. He laughed at her then — an evil sound that resonated through her body.
She opened her mouth to scream but no sound would escape her. The world swirled as she weakened and her legs buckled beneath her. She fell to the floor, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and she escaped into blackness.
~
Sarah leapt up from bed screaming and Mark put his arms around her, his eyes wide.
“Whoa! It’s okay! It was just a dream, just a dream!”
Sarah whimpered — covered in sweat — and then the real world came back in a flash. She sighed with relief and wiped her forehead, her body freezing in the dampness. “I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly, “bad dream.”
“It certainly was!” Mark laughed. “Are you okay?”
Sarah smiled and the goose bumps on her flesh disappeared. “Yeah I’m fine. The first night’s sleep in a proper bed and this happens.” She smiled weakly.
Mark laughed quietly and opened the curtains to look out of the gap in the windows. It was still dark outside, grey clouds covering the sky and the ground below was wet from the overnight rain. The wind-up clock on the end table next to him read 5:21AM.
“If that clock still works, then it’s still early. Go back to sleep for a while, you could use the rest,” he said, stroking her arm.
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” she said as she turned to him. “Mark, do you think Jack is still alive?”
Mark turned away and looked down at the duvet; he had hoped he would never have to answer that question. Sarah’s large blue eyes rimmed with tears. He didn’t know to say.
“Be honest,” she croaked, holding back tears.
“I…I don’t know, Sarah. It’s been six months. I don’t want to sound pessimistic, but —” he sighed and let the sentence trail off.
Sarah turned away from him and wiped her eyes, her chest sank with the feeling that he was right.
“I’m sorry,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I really don’t know. I could be wrong. He could be fine. I just…I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
She turned back to face him, her eyes now red and puffy. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“It’s okay. Part of me thinks he is dead. But the other part wants to find out for sure and I don’t even want to think about my family,” she said, her face lined with worry. “All I’m going to let myself think is that they’re doing just fine down there, holed up at home like we were and waiting for me. But Jack is different, Mark, because if he is still alive, why didn’t he try to find me?”
“How do you know he didn’t?” Mark said, feeling a tight pang of je
alousy in his chest.
“Like you said, it’s been six months.” Then she smiled, and added, “But you could be right, we don’t know that he hasn’t. He could have been out there all this time, looking for me, hoping I was alive like I am doing now.”
“…maybe…” Mark said, turning away from her and climbing out of bed.
Sarah climbed out of bed too, looking in his direction. She thought he looked upset. “What’s wrong?” she asked, watching him as he walked out of the room.
“Nothing,” he said, “I’m just…it doesn’t matter. Going to see if there’s enough water for a wash.” And he left the room.
A few minutes later she heard the clatter and clangs of the boiler working and the running of water. God bless hot water and God bless Annie, she thought to herself. She lay back in bed and hugged the pillow into her chest.
Six months ago, she had been in a two year relationship with a man who loved her and now she could only recall snippets of it, like it hadn’t existed at all. Twenty four months of her life basically wiped away. Two days ago, she couldn’t even remember what her mother looked like. She still couldn’t recall more than a handful of memories of them but at least they were coming back.
Last night’s dream gave her an unpleasant feeling in her stomach — it had felt real. The pleasant, peaceful dreams of the first night had been replaced by a horrific feeling of dread. Though she knew it was just a dream, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something important she wasn’t remembering about her past. It was like déjà vu, the feeling of having done something before but not being able to remember where or when and the more you thought about it, the quicker it disappeared. That’s how she felt about last night’s dream.
She didn’t recognize the scene, just the feeling she got from it. Something bad had happened to her back then, of that she was sure, but anything more than that was blocked off like a locked door in her mind that she couldn’t find the key for. She hoped that it would all come back to her soon, and that the past two years of her life — hell, all of her life hadn’t vanished completely.
As she lay in bed, looking at the ceiling in a stranger’s house, listening to the running water of the shower in the other room, her eyelids grew heavy and slowly she fell back into a dreamless sleep.
~
She awoke with a jump, hearing a ‘thud’ at the side of the bed. She opened her eyes quickly and bolted upright.
“Sorry to wake you, I banged the bed-side table,” said Mark, who stood there wrapped in a green towel with water dripping down his tanned skin. He rubbed his shin frantically. “The only furniture in this house and I manage to bang against it.”
Sarah blushed at the sight. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw a man almost naked and her eyes were drawn to his physique.
He dried his hair with another towel and it fell on his face in waves. Water droplets dripped down his skin. “That was amazing. Can’t remember the last time I had a hot shower,” he laughed. “Well, a lukewarm shower, I should say. We had a little electricity at home from our generator but no water besides the bottled kind. You don’t even want to know how we kept clean.”
Sarah laughed, trying to pry her eyes away from the half-naked man in front of her. I’m a pervert.
Mark untied the towel around his waist and paused, looking at Sarah, his face reddening slightly under her gaze. “Is everything alright? You’re looking at me funny.”
“Sorry,” she said, turning her head the other way and blocking her sight with her hand.
“That’s okay,” he laughed, drying his arms, “I didn’t want to dry in the bathroom, there’s no bathroom door. I didn’t want to give Annie a fright.”
“I don’t think she’d have a problem with that,” she blurted and instantly scolded herself.
Mark laughed quietly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Sarah blushed, kicking herself mentally. A memory came back to her then of being a teenage girl and her crush waving to her in the street, causing her to go into a fit of nervous giggles. Her stomach filled with butterflies and she resisted the temptation to turn around and have a peek. Pervert, she thought again, slightly amused at herself. What is the problem? He’s good to look at and he saved your life like ten times. That she couldn’t deny. Laid next to him in bed she had felt safe. The safest she had ever felt — at least the safest she could ever remember feeling.
You’re falling for him, her brain retorted.
She was surprised at this, because it was true. Their relationship had changed noticeably since it started and even her thoughts of Jack didn’t change the growing affection she had for Mark. Though she didn’t want to forget about Jack just yet, she couldn’t deny that right now, she was happier than she had been since she woke up in the basement room of his house — and that was undoubtedly because of Mark. She heard the zip of jeans.
“It’s okay now, you can look.” A voice said from behind her.
She turned around. He was topless still but had put on his jeans. She stared at his muscular chest and the small scattering of dark hair on his stomach made her heart thud.
Mark noticed her staring again and smiled to himself. “Do I pass?” he said, grinning.
Sarah looked at him in surprise, horribly embarrassed that he had caught her. “Sorry?”
He laughed again. “That’s the second time you’ve pulled that face today.”
“What face?” she squeaked.
“That one! It’s the kind of face a man pulls when he’s watching women’s tennis.”
“I was not 'perving' on you, if that’s what you’re getting at, buddy,” she said, faking disgust but the urge to laugh overwhelmed her. She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment and burst into laughter. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“You have a nice laugh,” he said and sat down next to her on the bed. “It’s nice to hear it.”
Sarah blushed and clamped her mouth shut, ridding herself of her smile.
“Don’t stop, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“Thank you,” she said putting her arm on his naked shoulder and her smile returned, “it’s been a while since I felt so…” Her voice broke off, she cleared her throat again, but there was a lump that she just couldn’t swallow.
“So…what?”
“So happy,” she admitted quietly, not daring to look in his eyes.
“Well I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself here,” he teased.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” She laughed, still avoiding his gaze. “I mean that, this is the best I’ve felt since all this started. I feel like there may be hope in the world yet, thanks to you.”
Mark was touched— he hadn’t expected her to say that. He didn’t know what to say back. Instead, he reached out and touched her cheek. She jumped at the touch but then relaxed and put her hand over his, their fingers entwining as he stroked her face gently. She looked in his eyes and he did the same, his eyes searching her face. Truly beautiful, he thought.
Sarah’s heartbeat quickened under his gaze, she could feel him studying every feature of hers and it made her feel breathless. She reached out and touched him with her other hand, running her fingers over his chest and across his collar bone. He was dry now and his skin was smooth, a faint smell of soap and flowers drifted off him.
Mark sighed gently as her fingers followed the contours of his chest and neck. He put his hand behind her head and Sarah gasped as he pulled her towards him, their mouths melting together. Sarah pushed her tongue into his mouth and kissed him back desperately. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he grabbed her around the waist. Warmth spread through her body and she welcomed it.
They kissed passionately, their hands searching over each other’s body. Sarah lightly scratching and grasping for the skin on his strong, toned back. He grabbed her buttocks and pulled her up onto his lap, at which she gasped and wrapped her legs around him, their tongues probing each other’s mouths.
Mark’s hands r
eached under her vest and up her back, her pale skin smooth and slightly sweaty. He grabbed her bra and unhooked it. Sarah helped him lift her vest over her head and threw the bra onto the floor.
She pushed her chest towards him as his hands gently glided across her back and around to her breasts. He squeezed them gently and she sighed, her body quivering and quaking at his touch. He stopped kissing her and pulled his head down to her breasts, taking her nipples into his mouth and sucking them gently in turn.
Sarah let out a groan. Feeling the hardness in his jeans, Sarah pressed her crotch against it roughly and Mark groaned into her chest. Swiftly, he lifted her off of his lap and laid her onto her back as she clawed desperately at the button of his jeans. At the same time he reached down to unbuttoned hers and — feeling them give — he tugged them down around her hips and pulled them off in fluid motion, throwing them behind him.
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