by Helen Lowrie
I saw a brief flicker of regret in her eyes before she hid it away. ‘Because it’s fucking stupid. I don’t need help.’
‘Fine. What do you need?’
‘Just fuck off, Jamie,’ she said, trying to push past me.
‘Come on, tell me!’ I said, blocking her way again. I could almost taste the delicious fragrance of her skin; feel the heat of her body radiating out to mine; sense the fire raging inside her.
‘Nothing! I don’t need anything!’ she shouted in my face. ‘I never have and I never will!’ Then Kat kissed me. She dragged my face down to hers with unapologetic force, her wild distress and fury morphing into savage hunger as she bit my lip. And I could no longer hold back. Five long weeks of sexual frustration – thirty-six nights of sharing a bed and trying not to want her – had me about ready to explode. As thousands of strangers slumbered in the field just metres away, I pushed her back against the smooth trunk of a beech tree and took her sweet mouth with my tongue, savouring her unique flavour and revelling in the low sounds she made.
Splaying one long leg out to the side, and hitching it up on my hip, Kat forced me closer into her with a booted foot. Without breaking our kiss, I cupped the lean muscle of her thigh, squeezing her supple flesh, her soft skin burning me. She clung to me as if she couldn’t get near enough, as if she wanted to be inside my body as much as I longed to be in hers. Even through our clothes I could tell she was aroused, her nipples taut with anticipation against my chest. Overwhelmed with need, I leaned into her, grinding my barely constrained erection into her damp crotch like a horny teenager. Dragging and bucking her hips up against me, she met me thrust for thrust. And we gloried in the delicious friction as our muscles tightened and our rhythm increased to a frantic pace.
‘Oh God, Jamie,’ she gasped, her head falling back to expose her elegant long neck. ‘Don’t stop. I can’t – oh God – I’m going to –’ As I supported her weight she climaxed, the look of euphoria on her face and the ease with which she came apart triggering my own urgent release.
I’d never come in my pants before; it wasn’t something a grown man should do. But then no one had ever had such an overwhelming effect on me; in that moment I felt no hint of shame. I simply loved what Kat did to me.
We stayed where we were for several minutes and I relished the feel of her in my arms, as our heart rates slowed and our breathing returned to normal.
‘I didn’t mean what I said,’ she said, her face hidden against my chest. ‘I know camping’s supposed to be fun; I honestly thought I’d enjoy it.’
‘But?’
She released a heavy breath. ‘Lying there on the ground, in the dark – I kept thinking – it felt like, like I was back on the street.’
‘Oh, Kat,’ I said, squeezing her closer and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
‘It’s just knowing there’s no walls between me and everyone else – it’s stupid.’
‘It’s not stupid; it’s completely understandable. I’m so sorry, Kat, I should have thought. We can go home, right now.’
Amusement danced in her eyes as she looked up at me. ‘It’s nearly three in the morning.’
‘So?’
‘And you’re over the limit,’ she said, gently stroking her fingertips down through the stubble at my cheek. Closing my eyes I leaned in to her touch. ‘Don’t you need to take your lenses out; your eyes must be tired?’
‘I took them out a few hours ago.’
‘Oh, can you see all right?’
I laughed. ‘I can see you, Kat, that’s enough for me.’
A blush crept into her cheeks and she smiled. ‘If you want to go back to the tent and get some sleep, I’ll be OK on my own.’
‘No, if you’re staying up, I’ll stay up with you – I’d like to see the sun rise anyway,’ I said, reluctant to be parted from her. Smiling she shook her head but didn’t argue as I straightened up and took her hand in mine.
We stopped at a bank of plastic Portaloos to clean ourselves up, the cloying chemical smell transporting me back to my student days. Neither of us made any mention of what had happened between us, maybe because it had felt like a fitting conclusion to an alcohol-fuelled night of live music, dancing and confrontation. Despite our quarrel it had been a welcome encounter for me – a rare glimpse into Kat’s true feelings and a brief respite from the almost constant hunger that she aroused in me. But it was not enough. I still knew very little about Kat’s past, I’d still not seen her naked, and it still felt like she might leave at any moment.
In another field we found a small, brightly lit marquee where a DJ was smoothly churning out Motown classics on a simple sound system for the night owls. One middle-aged couple danced barefoot on a chintz rug in the centre, while everyone else sat or lay around on cushions in various states of intoxication. Taking possession of two corduroy-covered beanbags, Kat and I settled in a corner where I rested one arm around her shoulders and she leaned contentedly into my side.
‘Did you say Frank was going to open up tomorrow?’ Kat said.
‘Yes. I left him with the spare set of keys. But if we get back in time I’ll do it myself.’
‘Or you could just let Frank do it and get some sleep?’
‘Yeah, but Sundays can still be really busy in the shop if the weather’s nice.’
Kat grinned at me. ‘You love it there don’t you?’
‘Yes. More than I ever expected to actually. Thank you for convincing me to keep it.’
She shrugged. ‘You would have come to your senses eventually.’
‘Maybe, I’m not so sure.’
‘You’re not moving back in with Jasmine then?’
‘I really don’t want to – I can’t see how it would ever work. And anyway, I’ll need to sell my flat if I’m going to support her and a baby financially.’
‘Doesn’t she have any family?’
‘She does – both parents, grandparents, two older brothers and a sister, and she’s close to them, but if I’ve got her pregnant then the responsibility is mine not theirs.’
‘Do you think she’d ever agree to move to Wildham?’
‘No. She won’t speak to me so I don’t know what she’s planning. But I think I need to see a solicitor. If the baby is mine I need to know what my rights and options are.’
Kat nodded. ‘That sounds sensible.’
As Smokey Robinson sang about his tears, the couple swaying in the middle of the floor were joined by two more pairs of dancers and we watched them for a while in silence. I couldn’t imagine Jasmine living at Southwood’s any more than I could now imagine living there without Kat. I had to keep reminding myself that our current situation might only be temporary; that I might lose her again; that with enough confidence built up inside her, Kat should have the freedom to move on.
‘Hey, Kat, you do know you don’t have to work at Southwood’s forever, don’t you?’ She looked up at me in surprise and I hastily continued, ‘I mean, you are welcome to, of course – on the nursery, in the garden centre, in the coffee shop when it’s built – anywhere you like, for as long as you like; you’ll always have a job as far as I’m concerned. What I’m trying to say is – don’t ever feel you have to work there.’ Kat’s eyes were fixed on mine but unreadable, as if she was reserving judgement until she could be sure of what I was saying so I tried a different tack. ‘What were your favourite subjects at school?’
‘I hated school,’ she said evenly.
‘I’m sorry, I remember. But were there any subjects that interested you? Any topics that you enjoyed just a little?’ She turned away and was quiet for so long that I wondered if I’d offended her.
‘Science and Geography,’ she said at last.
‘Wow, really?’
She nodded. ‘The teachers weren’t so shitty – and I liked hearing about faraway places and knowing how things worked.’ I waited to see if she would volunteer more but, as ever, talking about herself did not come naturally to Kat.
‘The
thing is you could do almost anything you wanted to. There are loads of courses available nowadays, everything from full-time degrees right down to part-time courses and evening or weekend classes. There’s a college just a twenty-minute bus ride away and you can even do courses online, remotely.’ Kat eyed me with her penetrating gaze. ‘I’m not saying you have to study anything; I’m just pointing out that you could. All the colleges have online prospectuses – just have a look sometime; see if anything takes your fancy. Because whatever you decide you want to do with your life, Kat, we can make it happen.’
I could tell a whole host of thoughts and feelings were hidden behind Kat’s carefully composed expression. ‘Thank you,’ she said. As she returned her eyes to the DJ I couldn’t help hoping that one day, with time and reassurance, she would share them with me.
Chapter Forty-one
At a table for two we sat in the dappled shade of an apple tree that had been grown in a vast round oil drum and underplanted with lavender bushes. The lavender had finished flowering, and the grey-green foliage had been pruned back into cloud-like forms, but every time Jamie’s arm brushed against it an aromatic scent was released into the air.
‘This place is amazing,’ I murmured as I gazed around the rooftop garden full of flowers and out across the River Thames below. Despite the sunglasses Jamie wore I could feel the warmth of his attention on me, rather than on the spectacular view before us. I smiled at him before picking up a menu in my right hand and slowly scanning the prices while gently flexing my left wrist. It was still occasionally stiff after weeks of Vic-induced incarceration and I hated that my pale forearm drew attention to the various little burns there, evidence of a life spent serving hot food. A past life.
I’d been apprehensive about Jamie’s suggestion of a day trip to London. Not just because I was still afraid Vic might be alive and out there somewhere looking for me, but because Jamie wanted to make an occasion of my birthday. I’d never seen a reason to celebrate my birthday before – August the third was the made-up date recorded on my medical notes when I was found abandoned, aged roughly two years old. It was some doctor’s best guess at the time and had always seemed rather arbitrary to me – I would never know the real date of my birth any more than Jamie would discover his. But in the brief three-year period when Jamie had had a mother she had made a big fuss of his birthdays and now, for some reason, he was keen to do the same for me.
Many aspects of the city were all too familiar – the traffic, the smells, the drifts of litter and the sadly ignored individuals who slept wherever they could. I simply couldn’t pass a homeless person without stopping to acknowledge them and offer them something – it was small consolation but at least I now had some money to give. London had always been my home and yet I’d never been happy there and felt no great compulsion to return.
Despite all that, experiencing London with Jamie was a complete revelation – so far the day had been far more enjoyable than I’d imagined. We’d journeyed into the capital on a surprisingly comfortable and efficient overland train and crossed town by Tube before emerging at the iconic, vast and beautiful Natural History Museum. With its high ceilings, cathedral-like architecture and Victorian detailing it was even more impressive than I’d been prepared for. At Jamie’s suggestion we avoided the dinosaur galleries, crowded with children, in favour of the undeniably spectacular Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition.
The breathtaking backlit images transported me around the globe with their luminous clarity, each story more compelling than the last. I’d unconsciously taken Jamie’s arm for support, as if I might be swept away by the sheer magic the pictures contained. Jamie was quiet for the most part, just allowing me to take my time and offering simple explanations when I came across things I didn’t understand. He was much more knowledgeable about the world than me but never made me feel stupid or inferior in any way. Quite the opposite in fact. Jamie had this way of glancing at me but then being unable to look away again – as if the mere sight of me was somehow remarkable or diverting. I loved the way he centred his attention on me and yet I wished he wouldn’t – any hint of false hope for a future together nagged painfully at my vulnerable heart.
Jamie had suggested the Southbank for lunch and, a gentle stroll along the river later, here we were about to eat al fresco, surrounded by flowers.
‘Rina! I thought it was you.’
I jumped at the name I no longer used and Jamie tensed opposite me as I looked up at the young waiter standing beside our table.
‘Andy!’ I said, my mind working furiously to determine whether I was in immediate danger. But I quickly recalled he was a college student who used to order coffee and a bacon bap at Vic’s Cafe on his way to nine o’clock lectures. He was not, I decided with tentative relief, a friend of Vic’s. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I work here,’ he said, with a downward glance at his apron. ‘Summer job. What about you? I’ve not seen you in ages. What happened to the market cafe? It always looks shut when I walk past?’
‘Oh, yeah, I, er, left.’ I forced a smile.
There was an awkward pause as Andy took in my non-answer. ‘Oh right, OK. Good for you; you look well anyway.’
‘Thank you, so do you. How’s college going?’
‘Really good, yeah; finals next year though.’ He grimaced. ‘Can I get you something to eat or drink?’ Raising his eyebrows expectantly, he lifted a notepad, pencil poised. Jamie and I ordered drinks and sandwiches and Andy collected our menus and gave a funny little salute as he departed.
‘Are you OK? Do you want to go?’ Jamie said, leaning forward across the table and taking my hand.
‘No I’m fine. I don’t think he ever met Vic and, anyway, the police think Vic’s dead now, so –’ I squeezed his fingers. ‘It’s fine, really.’
Studying my face for covert signs of something, he nodded as if satisfied. ‘Small world,’ he muttered.
Once we’d eaten Jamie produced a small gift-wrapped object from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of me. ‘Happy birthday, Kat.’
I looked from him to it and back again, wishing I could read his eyes, but I only saw my own pensive expression reflected back at me in his shades. As if reading my mind he suddenly removed them and I was bathed in the reassuring warmth of his expression. ‘It’s nothing much OK? There are so many things I could have got for you, there’s so much I want to give you, but I know you won’t let me. So this is just one small, practical gift that I hope you will accept, for me.’
‘What is it?’ I said, my mouth dry.
‘You have to open it to find out – that’s how presents work,’ he said, with a teasing smile.
Unwrapping it carefully I stared at the mobile phone in my hand. I’d never had one before, never needed or wanted one before. After all who would I call?
‘Kat?’ I looked back at Jamie’s earnest face. ‘It’s just a pay-as-you-go but we can get you a contract if you decide you want one. It just means that if – when – you want to go places without me, you can call me.’ Taking it from my hand, he switched it on, dabbed at the screen and then turned it to show me. ‘See? I’ve programmed it with my mobile number, the house landline, the number for the garden centre. I’ve even put the number of a local taxi firm in there just in case you get stranded.’
‘Wow, thank you,’ I said, floored by the extent of Jamie’s thoughtfulness. My words were all the encouragement he needed and with a childlike enthusiasm he went on to show me how to use it to make calls, send emails, browse the Internet and locate myself with satellites. It was lovely that Jamie considered me worth locating but it was too much.
As Jamie was paying our bill his own mobile rang. He didn’t recognise the caller but answered with his usual cheery greeting and I watched with growing apprehension as the colour drained from his face.
‘How bad? OK, yes, of course. I’m on my way,’ he added, before hanging up.
‘Jamie?’
‘Jasmine’s been
in an accident – she’s in hospital.’
‘What sort of accident?’
‘I don’t know – they didn’t say.’
‘OK, try not to worry. Are you going to go and see her?’
‘Yes. But you’ll come with me, won’t you?’
‘I –’ I didn’t want to. I hated hospitals and if she, if they, had lost the baby I didn’t want to witness their grief. ‘I’m not sure she’d want me there, Jamie –’
‘But I need you there. Please, Kat, come with me.’ His appeal was raw and powerful in his eyes.
‘OK, let’s go.’
Chapter Forty-two
While I paced the small, half-empty waiting area, Kat, perched on a hard chair, followed me with her eyes. I felt bad for bringing her here; it was selfish. Hospitals were no fun and Jasmine was not Kat’s problem. But I needed her here. Kat had only been back in my life a few short months and yet I’d come to rely on her and the inner strength she exuded.
All the nurse had been able to tell us so far was that Jasmine had been in a car accident on a dual carriageway and that no other vehicles had been involved. She wasn’t in intensive care – which was a good sign – but the doctor was in with her and we would only know more once a proper assessment had been made. Right now all I could think was that the baby, possibly my baby, might be in trouble. Despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, I wanted the child to live – and if he or she did I could not, would not, let any child of mine be brought up by strangers. If I had ever believed in any kind of god I would have prayed. As it was, I just kept pacing.
At last a blonde woman wearing glasses, a white coat and a stethoscope approached me and I stopped. Kat moved to my side and slipped her hand into mine but I kept my eyes on the doctor.
‘Mr Southwood?’
‘Yes.’
