by A. J. Lewis
Jenny stuck her head into Ana's room. “Do you want to come a walk with us, Ana?” she asked.
To her surprise, Ana said, “Fine.”
“Super,” said Bruce. “I'll wait downstairs for you.”
When he had gone, Ana said, “Forget it, Mum. He's gay.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” said Jenny.
“You heard him,” said Ana, “his partner is Razvan.” She made a sprout-eating face when she said Razvan.
“Business partner, honey,” Jenny said.
Ana laughed out loud. “Whatever,” she said. “They are gay.”
“Ana,” she said, “have you ever thought about joining UKIP?” Then she went to her room to wash her face and choose a change of clothes.
Chapter Five
Bruce led the on a walk through the center of town, along the river and to the sea. He was a charming host, interesting and so funny he even managed to make Ana smile on a number of occasions, though she tried desperately to hide it.
They walked alongside the harbor and Bruce bought them ice creams though Jenny told him not to.
“Best ice creams in Yorkshire,” he said. “Just be careful the gulls don't poo in them.”
“Are you married?” asked Ana.
“Just ignore her,” Jenny said, she knows its rude to ask questions like that.
Bruce smiled. “I don't mind,” he said. “I was married once. But it didn't last long.”
“Why not?” asked Ana.
“I was in the army,” he said. “I guess in some ways I was married to the army.” He grinned at Jenny. “Shall we go over the river?” he said.
He led them across the bridge and Ana turned to Jenny and said, “Married to the army. I think that means he's gay.”
They walked up the hill to the long grass and weathered gravestones below the Abbey.
“Lot of Goths around here,” observed Bruce.
“Steam Punk,” corrected Ana.
“I see,” said Bruce. “Is that what you're in to?”
“Not really,” said Ana. “But its interesting. I like to see the people dress up. Everyday clothing is so boring.”
“You should talk to Razvan,” said Bruce. They sat down on a bench with the Abbey behind them and looked down at the town below them. “He knows a thing or two about dressing unusually.”
“He certainly seems to,” said Jenny.
“Is he your partner?” asked Ana.
Bruce laughed. “What? Is that what he said? He's a one,” he said. “Far from it. He just works here during the season. Cooks, does a few odd jobs in exchange for a little money and accommodation. He's an English teacher back in his own country and just comes here in the summer to practice it.”
“Where's he from?” asked Jenny.
“Romania, maybe. Or somewhere similar. If you're interested in Steam Punk, there's a party in town tonight.”
“I'd love to go,” said Ana.
“Over twenty-ones only, I'm afraid,” said Bruce. “But your mum could go.”
Chapter Six
When they arrived back at the guest house they found Razvan lounging in the front room, with his long nose in a classic work of literature.
“Jenny is interested in the steam punk party this evening,” said Bruce.
“I'm not really,” said Jenny. “I was just wondering, really.”
“Excellent,” said Razvan, slamming shut his book. “Starts at eight. I've given myself the evening off, so Bruce will have to stay in.”
“Don't listen to him,” said Bruce.
“Of course, you will need fancy dress.”
“Well, I don't have any, so its not really possible,” Jenny said.
“I have something for you,” said Razvan. “One moment.” He disappeared then came back with a costume. “This will do,” he said.
“What is it?” asked Jenny.
“It will be fine for you,” said Razvan dismissively. “Just put it on.”
As they climbed the stairs, Ana said, “He's weird, isn't he?”
“A bit odd,” she agreed.”
“He looks like Johnny Depp.”
Jenny was shocked. “No way. He looks nothing like him.”
“Yes,” insisted Ana. “A bit old and a bit strange. But still a bit good-looking.”
Jenny suddenly realized that maybe even Johnny Depp had finally become old.
“He looks like something from a Tim Burton film,” she said. “That is probably true.”
Jenny put on the costume and then knocked on Ana's door. Her daughter's eyes became as wide as saucers.
“A nun,” she exclaimed.
“This can't be right, can it?”
Ana shrugged. “Maybe. I don't know. You look good in it, anyway.”
“I look good as a nun,” said Jenny. “I'm not sure what to make of that.”
She went downstairs to find Razvan back in his chair with his book.
“Fabulous,” he said when he saw her. “Jenny, you look fabulous.”
“Are you going to change?” she asked him.
“But I have,” he said, even though the only thing that seemed to be different was that he had put on a red smoking jacket.
“What are you?” she asked.
“A vampire, of course,” he replied, looking a little disgruntled she had had to ask.
“But you look the same as normal,” Jenny said.
“Indeed,” said Razvan, taking her arm and escorting her to the door.
Well, this was not how she had expected her holiday to go, Jenny reflected as she walked down the street. She had expected her first night to be spent in bed with a book, not going to a party, dressed as a nun and escorted by a man who claimed to be a vampire.
She needed a drink, she decided, and when she got to the party she helped herself to a large one and from then on surprised herself by having a great deal of fun.
Razvan seemed to disappear and then mysteriously pop up again through the night, while she drank, chatted and even danced a little with people she did not know. In the back of her mind she knew that this was all the pent up frustrations of the previous months all coming out in one night's drinking. But there it was, she thought, she was on holiday.
Towards the end of the night the party spilled out onto the street and noisily made its way around the town towards the Abbey. Just as the full moon was rising above the hillside, she felt Razvan take her hand.
“Time for home,” he told her in his strange accent.
They seemed to glide through the city streets together and when they reached the guest house the front door appeared to open before them.
“How you do that?” she asked drunkenly.
“Special talent,” he whispered.
“Do you have many special talents?” she asked.
“We shall see,” he said and they rose up the flights of steps and she knew that she was well and truly under his spell and he could have her now and there was no reason on God's earth why she shouldn't let him. And she was saying this, she told him, as a committed nun.
Chapter Seven
Razvan very slowly and gently, undressed her. The moonlight played on her white skin painting it white and covered it with kisses. All the while he fingers caressed her back. To her complete amazement, Jenny felt herself slowly becoming more and more aroused.
“Shhh, shhh …,” Razvan whispered, caressing her breasts with his fingertips. All along he spoke to her in his strange and deep, Eastern accent. He whispered and stroked her as if she were a nervous colt and that needed to be reassured before being broke in and ridden.
Jenny could feel the cloth of her habit catching against the lush velvet of his long overcoat. Jenny let her head fall back so her white neck curved like a swan's and was exposed to him.
She felt a swelling of emotion inside her that escaped in a long a sigh. The emotions produced hot prickles of tears that welled in her eyes. She turned her face away from him as if ashamed and with a long shudder she submitted and gave
herself up to him.
He laid her down on the bed and bent over her and gloated. He knew she was his, she was under his command and there was nothing she could do now to resist. He savored her deliberate voluptuousness like a man before his favorite feast. Jenny felt herself placed on the platter, which was at once thrilling and downright repulsive. Involuntarily, she arched her back, supine before him and she saw him lick his lips like a carnivore. In the cruel, cold moonlight Jenny could make out the moisture glistening on his brow and above his thin lips. His vermillion tongue appeared like snake-like and flickered like a flame upon his sharp, white teeth.
He laid a strong workman's hand on her shoulder, and with surprising delicacy, the fingers worked her flesh. The hand traveled down the arch of her spine. The other hand lifted her off the bed towards him, while the first continued its inevitable voyage, tenderly tracing her curves, back, down, and around to the eventual roundness of her buttocks.
He raised his hand so that it touched her neck and the soft caresses of his fingertips on her throat raised the hairs all over her body. An electric charge spread throughout her body. She felt in she was in danger. But it was danger so delicious she hurried towards it. She knew now there was nothing she could do to prevent it and so she went on like a barrel bobbling towards the edge of the falls.
He pushed his forefinger and thumb into her throat, bringing a hard arrow of pleasure straight into her center.
“What is this mad spell have you put on me?” Jenny found herself asking in a husky and low whisper. The sound reverberated beneath his hand.
Razvan gazed deeply into her eyes. “The very same spell that you have cast on me.” His fingers moved up to her chin then her cheeks. Then he gently massaged her eyelids, ever so delicately moving her eyeballs so that he came in and out of focus.
With the other hand he reached down over her neck and let it play on her chest. He cupped her breasts, sighing in delight.
“Your breasts are absolutely divine,” he whispered. His joy was so real and unconfined, Jenny almost laughed. Not once in her life had she ever considered her breasts divine. Tom had never said as much and in that very moment Razvan had done what no man had done before and let a lifetime of concern about her body slip away as easily as he had taken her out of her clothes. She raised her head to watch as he licked her nipples hungrily like a man consumed by a terrible hunger.
His tongue flicking desperately over her nipples seemed to flick a switch inside her and she could feel herself warming under his touch. His hand played upon her belly and beneath her skin another hand seemed to grip her insides with a warm hold. Razvan lavished himself upon her body. She breathed him in and the bittersweet scent of him flooded through her.
And now his fingers had reached between her legs.
“Take me how you wish,” she heard herself whisper. His face was down near hers now and his breath bore down hot in her ear.
“Be in me now,” she told him. He stood back from her so that he was in front of the window and in the shadow of the moon he freed himself from clothes and stood over her taking in the image of her naked body laud out before him.
And then he fell upon her like a pack of wolves from the mountains of his homeland. It seemed to Jenny as if she were being devoured by lust, course and primeval. It was red I tooth and claw and she went with it, desperately clinging onto the bed sheets as he rode her through the moonlit night.
And they were on the pathway that was made for only them. They were out in the wildness of the forests, far from the present, a place were no time existed, were all Jenny's memories and references were lost in the swirling pool she found herself. She had no past behind her and no future ahead. There was nothing but him and he filled her completely. Sensation was everything. Wild and thrilling sensation that made her claw the sheets and twist her neck. Sensation destroyed everything else until it was all she was and she existed in feeling alone. The feeling swelled in her as is she were a ship tossed around on an ocean of pleasure. And she saw in that moment the very seas he had come one. There limbs slid against each other, slickly covered with sweat and they performed the mad, involuntary dance as only as man.
His thrusts came cautiously at first as he gauged the sensation, the effect upon her body. Then, as she responded, he thrust again, harder and with a devilish urgency. And then he was gone, careening off into the dark wild lands of eternity. And she beneath him in that terrifying moment that showed her all her life and all life everywhere could be distilled down to these heart-pounding minutes in which her body responded to its deepest mechanisms. These moment where their lives, their whole existences, bodies, minds, imaginations, DNA, crashed into each other, he like an enormous wave upon her beach.
He foamed and boiled in his furious passion and they lived together for those scintillating seconds. In his burning hardness, he plunged into her again and she tensed every muscle, as if she were the whole of the land, bracing for the sea breaking against her. They were suspended in madness, soaring together on the thermals of the painful perfection of the moment in which they are both lost, their minds gone, bodies only.
Then together they descended and burning and ecstatic, the fevered pleasure of a two planes crashing together. Their souls exposed, their bodies unmade.
Jenny gulped for breath, still staring at the wildness unleashed in herself and horrified at its power. What creature was she that could do things such as this?
Each part of her body felt fragmented. A collection of dolls parts, she lay their panting. He hand made her whole then pulled her apart again. And without thinking she chased after him, not willing to fall back into normality, not willing to go back to the sane, rational existence. The beast in her was free and it would not now be contained.
As Razvan slid down on top of her, letting out a deep and satisfied sigh, she twisted from under him sort him with her mouth. He was still excited and she gnawed him like a ravenous wolf desperate for the blood. Razvan moaned at her adventure and when he was ready for her again, Jenny swung a leg over his waist and like the horseman preparing for the ride, she got her balance and brought her hands in his hair and bucked. Razvan responded and again they were set loose across the wild land that neither of them wanted to return from.
And this they did until the moon had left the night's sky and gray dawn filtered through the window and then Razvan was gone.
Chapter Eight
The days after the night with Razvan were like the days after getting very drunk. Jenny was on edge and frankly amazed at herself. She was not entirely sure how it had happened or even, what exactly had happened. She was sure she had never experienced the like of it before and quite sure she would never do it again. But that didn't necessarily mean she regretted it.
She spent those days floating around the tourist shops with Ana, who appeared increasingly bored.
One evening she was lying in bed reading when Tom phoned demanding to speak to Ana.
“You've got her number,” she said, “if you want to speak to her, phone her not me.”
“She's not answering,” said Tom. “What have you said to her?”
“I've said nothing,” she replied. “And if I did say something, what could possibly be worse than the truth?” In the background she could hear his girlfriend pestering him. “She's still with you then?”
“Of course, she is,” he said, but he sounded weary.
“What happens when the money runs out?” she asked.
“Never mind that,” he said testily. “Just ask Ana to call me, will you? And by the way, I think it's totally wrong of you to go away like this. This will count against you.”
“You think its wrong of us to go away,” Jenny said, genuinely amazed. “That's rather ironic, don't you think? Considering.”
He put the phone down.
She considered ignoring his request, but instead, sighed and got up. She knocked gently on Ana's door. She was reading with the light on. “Your dad asked you to call him.”
&nb
sp; “Yeah,” said Ana, “I'll maybe give him a ring tomorrow.”
Jenny went back to her room thinking how nice it would be if she had Bruce's strong arms to fall into and how lovely it would be to lie with her head resting on his chest.
From her pillow she gazed at the black outline of the Abbey against the blue-black sky. She thought of Razvan. She thought of how wrong it had all been but how it was all deliciously right.
Jenny closed her eyes and thought of Bruce again. For a moment she thought she might be tempted to combine the two thoughts and then she fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
The next morning Bruce presented them with two tickets for the steam train across the moors.
“It was the one they used to film Harry Potter,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“That's really kind of you,” said Jenny. “Thank you ever so much. I think we will have a lot of fun.”
Ana regarded the tickets suspiciously as she crunched her cereal. When they were waiting on the platform she turned to Jenny and said, “Does he think I'm an eight year-old boy?”
“Come on, he's being friendly. It was a lovely thing to do. Anyway,” she said, “I'm excited.”
Ana dug her hands into her pockets and then the steam engine came. They heard it a long time before they saw it and then it came into view the steam billowing out from the tracks until it covered them both and Jenny laughed.
The train took them out over the moors and she sat by the window happily watching the countryside go by while Ana sat determinedly looking at her phone. But, decided Jenny, no one, not even a moody adolescent can resist the charms of a steam train for long.
There was something exhilarating about the train ride that was irresistible and on the way back she spotted Ana breaking into a smile as a group of young children waved enthusiastically from a passing roadside.
In the evening, she decided to find Bruce and thank him once again. He was cleaning a recently vacated room.
