by Ross Turner
“Does there have to be an occasion?” Jen asked merrily, breaking her melody and casting a quick smile over her shoulder, before picking up her song exactly where she left off, without so much as breaking a note.
Dyra still didn’t know what was happening, which clearly was something, but if she was brutally honest, at that particular point in time, she didn’t really care. She was just overjoyed to see her daughter smile again.
Within minutes breakfast was served. Eggs and sausage and bacon, fried bread, beans, toast, hash browns, and even fried tomatoes graced the table that day, and much to her mother’s delight, for the first time in months, Jen tucked well in to the lot.
Her daughter seemed to glow in the morning light as it filtered in through the open windows, and birds filled the gap in Jen’s beautiful song as she ate, bursting with a dawn chorus of their own.
“So what are your plans today, sweetheart?” Dyra asked, wiping her mouth with a serviette. “Are you working?”
Jen was mid-swig of orange juice and swallowed before she spoke.
“Later…” She replied, nodding. “I’m going into town first…”
“Oh, really?” Her mother questioned, intrigued, and Jen nodded again.
“I’m going to buy a new dress.” She explained.
“Really!?” Her mother exclaimed, in perhaps more of a shocked tone than she’d intended. “And is there no occasion for this either?” She asked slyly, eyeing her youngest daughter with an unconcealed smirk.
“I just feel like it…” Jen lied, though she failed in turn to hide a grin of her own.
“Alright then…” Dyra conceded, not wanting to push Jen too far. Especially when things seemed to be improving so.
Clare appeared behind their mother then from seemingly nowhere, and she threw Jen a smug grin that spoke a thousand and more words.
Most prominently though, it said, ‘I told you so. You’re in love.’
Jen smirked, but ignored her older sister, clearing away the plates from breakfast and starting the washing up.
Aside from everything that had happened, she couldn’t help but be excited.
Perhaps, just perhaps, Clare was right…
The morning outside proved to be a glorious one, and the perfectly clear blue sky, broken by only the odd wisp of brilliantly white cloud here and there, shone vividly above. The lanes were quiet and though the town was a fair distance away to walk, Jen felt revitalised anew, and decided it would be a waste not to enjoy the day.
“You should have told mom!” Clare teased her playfully as they strolled.
“No!” Jen exclaimed in retort. “I can’t tell her!”
“Oh go onnnn!” Clare pushed.
“I don’t want her to know!” Jen replied adamantly.
“I’ll tell her if you don’t!” Clare stated mischievously.
“You can’t…” Jen commented.
“Wanna bet?” Clare asked slyly.
“Yes, actually. I do.” Jen asserted, finding new confidence in herself that she thought she’d lost long ago. “You can’t…I won’t let you…”
Town was busy, and following their little spate, Clare and Jen hadn’t really spoken the rest of the way.
It wasn’t really much of a shopping hub, for in the grand scheme of things, it was little more than an oversized village. However, it was where the vast majority of the locals went for their everyday needs: clothes, food and the like, and so, as expected, there were enough people there, and enough people who knew her, for Jen’s unexpected appearance to be noted.
Many who hadn’t seen or spoken to her for months stopped to say hello and asked how she was, and were all pleasantly surprised when they got a conversation out of her, and a happy one at that.
Before long, Clare and Jen had been in four different shops, Jen had tried on nine different dresses and, having been heavily critiqued by her grumpy older sister, still hadn’t made a decision.
They had virtually exhausted all their options, and still, as seemed to always be the case, in perhaps more ways than anyone could possibly ever know, Clare was forever casting doubt into Jen’s thoughts.
“Oh will you just make up your mind!” Clare demanded, exasperated, throwing her arms up in the air.
“Can you just leave me alone for two minutes!?” Jen practically begged of her sister.
Onlookers walked past with concerned, confused expressions on their faces, especially those who had spoken to Jen only an hour or two ago, when she had seemed so happy and carefree.
“Fine!” Clare cried, raising her voice so much that Jen visibly winced. “If you don’t want me, that’s just fine!”
“No…Clare…” Jen started, but it was too late.
In an instant, Clare was gone.
Jen could only watch as in one moment she was there beside her, and in the next she wasn’t, fading away into the distance between the crowds.
Jen sighed as she watched her sister go, and felt the eyes of all those around upon her much more keenly that she would have liked.
Desperate to divert from the attention, and barely able to control the emotions welling up inside of her from the knowledge of what she’d just done, intentionally or not, she turned and headed immediately back into the nearest shop.
Moments later she found herself locked in a changing room with three dresses that she couldn’t even have told you the colours of, her head buried in her hands and her chest heaving.
However, for some reason, after a few more minutes, she had recovered considerably, and it seemed that the argument had taken much less out of her than she’d originally thought.
Only ten minutes later, now making wholly her own decisions, Jen had made up her mind: a sleek, black dress lined with lace and a handful of tastefully placed sequins.
By the time she left the shop, already wearing her new purchase, though still with her trainers on admittedly, which looked for the most part quite comical, Jen was feeling strangely free and uplifted.
Still, people were eyeing her cautiously as she walked by, but at that point she didn’t care.
Now she had only one thing in mind, and one destination in view.
Lust
“Do you really think he’ll be there?” Clare asked, seeing as always directly into the centre of everything Jen thought, knowing in a heartbeat the real reason for the dress and for Jen’s immediate visit to the beach.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here…” Jen commented honestly, glancing across at her older sister walking beside her still. But the response she got was not exactly what she was expecting.
“You can’t get rid of me.” Clare replied, quite seriously, with something even of a sinister tone to her voice. “I’ll be here forever…”
Jen nodded, but didn’t reply. Her sister’s words were true, she knew that.
But, considering the circumstances, they were nearly impossible to swallow.
Clare, of course, was right.
She couldn’t be wrong.
Soon the beach was in sight.
The skies were still clear, though perhaps a little cloudier than earlier in the morning. A salty wind cut at Jen’s exposed legs, unused to being open to the elements.
Clare strolled beside her younger sister still. Neither of them spoke now, and she followed Jen as she led her down across the pebbles covering the top half of the beach, just off the path, instead of immediately onto the rocks as per usual.
Passing over the shingles, sunlight dancing across her face, Jen took off her shoes as she reached the divide between the pebbles and the beach. She stepped forward, burying her feet into the soft, oddly warm sand, and felt it slip and slide blissfully between her toes.
She had been on this beach virtually every day for the past year, and yet in all that time she hadn’t once enjoyed it like she was now.
“Jenny…” Clare started, but Jen knew exactly what she was going to ask, and she sighed deeply, knowing that her sister’s words were altogether a possibility.
“What are you going to do if he doesn’t come?”
But then, as if on cue, to answer Clare’s question, and indeed even her own, Jen caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye.
She turned to face the figure that had appeared across the way, on the sand. But when she laid eyes upon it, it was not who she had expected.
It was not Deacon.
It was the albatross.
He had landed barely a dozen feet from where Jen stood, his vast wingspan casting an enormous shadow over the golden sands.
Jen looked up, confused.
The water was so green, and yet so blue at the same time, that it only reminded Jen of something else entirely.
Even the rocks in the distance upon which she usually sat glistened, wet and sparkling under the face of the sun.
And her albatross looked on curiously.
He didn’t look quite as sad today, and instead looked a little more satisfied with what he saw.
As much as she knew he was a solitary creature, Jen couldn’t help but feel the majestic bird looking on at her now seemed thoughtful, considerate, and had many other characteristics of a human; a decent human that is.
One that actually cares.
With that thought, Jen looked across to her sister, only to find that she was glancing between the two of them, and her expression was a most puzzling one. It was profoundly clear and vastly indecipherable all at once.
The albatross spread his vast wings, flapping them only a single time in an enormous movement, taking to the skies, and casting a massive shadow over Jen.
But suddenly, in his place, out of nowhere, stood Deacon.
The instant Jen laid eyes upon him, smiling his cheeky grin, she went weak at the knees. Without a sound he walked over towards her, and as he approached, Jen caught yet more movement out of the corner of her eye.
Glancing across, she saw Clare once again walking off into the distance, disappearing without a trace.
In that moment, Jen didn’t even really know how it felt to see her older sister walk away.
It was something she had been dreading for a very long time now.
“Good afternoon.” Deacon greeted her, bowing his head slightly, and his voice like rough velvet made certain that she knew exactly how she felt right then.
He wore brown board shorts and shoes, and a red collared shirt that was not quite buttoned all the way to the top or the bottom, which for some reason drove Jen nuts, though she had no idea really why.
She realised then that she’d not even noticed what he’d been wearing the night before, but he most certainly didn’t look out of place now, and her heart skipped joyously.
Suddenly racing, beating furiously against her chest, Jen could feel her heartbeat in her ears, and the impulsive desire to leap forward and lock her lips to Deacon’s returned.
The feeling was infinitely stronger than before, almost overwhelming her, and she was forced to beat down the desire with more control than she had ever exercised in her whole life.
“Good afternoon…” She replied, managing to get her words out without stammering, but only barely.
“You look lovely.” Deacon complimented her.
“Thank you…” Jen replied, blushing, naturally.
Deacon turned up one corner of his mouth, looking at Jen with deep affection in his eyes.
An entirely new range of emotions flushed through Jen’s body. Her heart never ceased its manic racing, shaking her ribs and shuddering her every breath. Her palms burned, her stomach churned, and her gaze flitted between Deacon’s eyes, his shirt, his chest, and everything else…
Something burned in Jen’s chest and pushed fiercely at her. It was something that she didn’t know; something that she had only felt for the first time since meeting Deacon.
What was it?
She didn’t know.
She just wanted him.
She needed him.
It was a burning desire she was barely able to keep in check.
She was lust filled and desperate. But for what, exactly, she didn’t quite yet know. Although, she knew what she wanted in that particular instant, for it was standing right in front of her.
Deacon tucked his hands into his back pockets, taking a deep breath as he did so, and Jen bit her bottom lip achingly.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence, though by no means was it awkward, at last Deacon spoke again.
“Will you be here again tomorrow?” He asked Jen, pulling one hand from his pocket and brushing her exposed arm lightly, though for no real reason.
Where she had felt the cold before, Jen flushed even more furiously, and unexplored heat continued to surge through her.
“I’m…I…” She started, but Deacon’s smile widened and spread to a slight chuckle, forcing her shyness out.
Jen could have sworn she saw the albatross pass overhead yet again, but when she looked up, he was nowhere in sight.
Deacon followed her gaze curiously, but the skies were empty.
“Looks like he’s gone…” Deacon noted whimsically.
“What? How do you…?” Jen questioned, shocked.
Deacon didn’t answer with words. He only smiled shrewdly and winked cheekily at Jen.
Her gaze dropped and, of course, she continued to blush terribly.
“No, I won’t…I’m working at The Rusty Oak…” Jen finally managed to answer. “I’ll be done just after half four…”
“Well then!” Deacon exclaimed suddenly. “And perchance, my dear, might you be free past the hour of five, tomorrow evening?” He asked, gesturing extravagantly and bowing slightly, splaying his arms out to his sides, though smirking cheekily up at Jen as he did so.
She couldn’t take much more of this.
He was reducing her to a flushed, infatuated wreck.
But as much as she couldn’t stand it, she loved it, and she never wanted it to end.
“I am…” She replied, grinning uncontrollably herself, praying he would say next what she hoped was coming.
“In which case…” He declared, holding one hand to his chest and brushing Jen’s arm again with the other. “My dear Jen, I shall pick you up from The Rusty Oak at five tomorrow evening!”
“Where are we going?” Jen asked, of course.
“Ah!” He replied mysteriously. “That would be telling!”
“How will I know what to wear?” She asked, nervous and excited all at once.
“Just bring a jacket so you’re warm enough…” Deacon replied, smiling with his eyes.
“Okay…” She responded, unsure and certain all at once.
“Are you at The Oak today?” He asked then, flicking his wrist to check his watch. Jen hadn’t even noticed he’d been wearing one, and saw that it was a silver and chrome device, very neat with a well-worn brown leather strap.
“Yes…” Jen replied, though she desperately didn’t want to leave yet.
“Would you permit me to accompany you to work?” He offered then, holding out his hand in a very gallant manner.
Jen nodded numbly, and within a whirlwind of an instant they headed off, the sand whooshing beneath Jen’s feet and between her toes, and crunching and grinding beneath Deacon’s brown leather shoes.
She slipped her shoes back on as they crossed the gravel, brushing the sand from her feet, and Deacon held his hand out to steady her as she did so. Jen took it gratefully, but then, as they stepped back up onto the path, and soon enough found themselves once again on the lanes, heading towards The Rusty Oak, she desperately wanted him to hold her hand again as they walked.
Though she was unsure exactly why, for they had never seemed so before, the spaces between her fingers felt empty, and undoubtedly his would fit between them perfectly.
But Jen was too shy, and too embarrassed to say anything, and almost before she knew it The Rusty Oak came into view, as several clouds parted overhead, following the winds.
They were walking in silence now, but he was still
smiling that cheeky smile that seemed, for reasons unknown, to drive her crazy.
Then Jen spotted her sister out of the corner of her eye, stood by the entrance to The Rusty Oak as they approached.
Clare had been waiting for her, and by the wide smirk on her face, clearly she knew exactly the internal turmoil that Jen was struggling with.
‘Just do it!’ Her older sister mouthed silently to her from across the lane.
Jen shook her head and gritted her teeth in indecision.
It was now or never.
They were almost at The Rusty Oak.
She was running out of time.
At no point over the last year had she stuck her neck on the line for anything; she hadn’t had the courage.
She hadn’t taken a risk for so long. She didn’t even know if she still knew how. But now, for the first time in far too long, this felt like it was worth it.
Deacon was worth it.
Screw it.
They were already so close together that their arms brushed more occasionally than not, and neither of them made a move to change that.
Suddenly, Jen felt her fingers interlocking with Deacon’s, and they slipped together so easily, weaving together so perfectly, that it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
They held hands for barely thirty seconds before they reached the tall, stone inn looming before them that was The Rusty Oak.
Somehow, in what felt like only a moment, they had bypassed Clare, leaving her far behind, and found themselves stood beneath the giant metal oak tree itself, out in the back garden.
It was quiet, though it would undoubtedly be busy later, but at least for now they had some privacy.
Laura’s head popped round the corner, having seen Jen slip past and out into the garden, wondering if she was alright.
She stopped, however, when she saw that Jen had company, smiling and holding hands with a stranger that Laura did not know.
Her face lit up and her heart leapt for them, overjoyed, and she rushed back inside so as not to disturb.
