by K. L. Jessop
I already know what’s going on and I can’t help but laugh. “Relax. It’s just seaweed, it’s not going to harm you.”
“Wanna bet? This shit sticks to you like leeches.” She flinches again and yelps.
“I guess we’ll have to rule out that sex in the ocean dream.” I pick the seaweed and fling it out behind me. “There. That better?”
She tilts her head with wide eyes as though I’ve done something ridiculous. “The tide is coming in, dickhead.”
I burst out laughing and lift her around my waist, her arms looping around my neck. “Don’t think about that. Think about us,” I whisper peppering sweet kisses on her neck. “Think about me.”
“I always think of you.”
***
“What do you want to go on now?” she shouts, skipping her way through the rides in her red, flowing dress that I can’t wait to rip off.
“Serious are you trying to kill me?”
“Aww. Does the old man need to sit for a while?” She links her arm around my waist and mine falls over her shoulders as we stroll along through the fair. Loud music, funfair horns and sirens echo from the pier as the coloured light shimmers across the water below. We’ve been here less than an hour and Megan has already dragged me on three rides. My head is spinning and my heart is pounding, no doubt from the adrenaline rush. The further we head into the coloured lights the more intense the atmosphere gets. The smell of hot doughnuts and burgers cling to our clothes as screams from children hit out ears.
“I’ve got an idea,” Megan says, leaving my side again and heading to a portable food truck. She never stops this girl: she’s constantly full of energy and laughter. After she collects a bag of hot doughnuts, we sit on the bench. The smell from the opened bag is divine.
“Ok, sugar challenge. I dare you to eat three doughnuts without licking your lips and without talking.”
“That's impossible,” I laugh.
“But not unachievable.”
She thrusts the bag in my face and I take out one. Thankfully they’re not the size you’d usually get from the supermarket.
Piece of cake.
The first one goes down just fine. There’s sugar on my lips but it’s bearable. She hands me my next one and I start to get restless half way through. The build-up of sugar has me desperate to lick them. She’s notices my struggle and starts to laugh.
“You really suck at this.”
I go to speak but she closes my mouth shut. Taking another doughnut from the bag as I start my third, Megan rubs it against my lips for sugar to fall over my chin. I can’t take any more.
“Now that’s not fair,” I say with a mouthful.
“Oh dear, I believe you failed.”
“Only because you tried to wedge another on in my face,” I chuckle, wiping the sugar from my face with the back of my hand. “Right, Simmons. Your turn.”
“Ha! I don’t think so, sunshine. I’m not that stupid.”
Before I have change to answer, that devilish look appears in her eyes and she’s off again, running from me and yelling over her shoulder. “Last one to the end of the pier has to provide the first orgasm.”
I burst out laughing and shake my head at her boldness. Chasing after her, I catch her up and scoop her up in my arms before spinning us around as she screams towards the sky.
“Now, we both know that no matter who gets to the pier last, I’ll always make you cum first.”
“True.”
“So how about I keep you from running from me for five minutes and we go on the Ferris wheel?”
“Force of habit. Sorry. I always used to run through the fairs as a kid because I got over excited.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You don’t say.”
“You should run with me: it makes the thrill twice as good—makes you feel alive.”
Helping Megan into the cart, I pull down the safety bar and she snuggles into me. The Ferris wheel is at the very end of the pier, so once we reach the top, it’s nothing but a bird’s eye view of lights from the bay and a carpet of black from out in the ocean. It’s a lot cooler being this high up and the stars twinkle above our heads.
“Lucas and I used to go to the fair all the time as kids. I used to love getting those felt colouring boards with the black felt lines."
“Remember those ones where you had to scratch the black off to find the gold pattern underneath?”
“Oh, my God, yes!” She pops some candyfloss into my mouth. “Lucas always used to win a goldfish every time we went. They never used to last long though; give them a week and the poor things were floating upside down with their eyes popping out.”
“I was amazing at those ‘shoot to win’ games. I beat Annie every time and always took her home a prize.”
“Well, now you can show me what you're made of.”
I look at her and smile. “Meaning?”
“Meaning when we get down we are going to fight it out.” She stuffs more candyfloss into her mouth. “And I’m going to kick your ass.”
My smile turns to a wicked grin. “Keep dreaming, princess.”
“Pushing me out the way when it’s my turn isn’t going to make you win, Megan,” I laugh as she tries to sabotage my game. We originally start with best of three, but after she loses all three rounds she ups it to six, thinking she’ll get a better chance. She won’t, because she’s terrible.
“Just you wait. I’ll shoot your smug ass down in no time.” She takes the plastic gun from my hand and gives me a smirk. Standing with her foot on the white line, she parts her feet and straightens her back to get into position. After the count of three, the shooter cards flip up randomly to be taken down. The only person going down though is her because after three fires, three cards still stand.
“The idea is to take them down,” I whisper in her ear.
“Back off. You’re distracting me.”
I laugh and wait for her to finish.
“You lose,” says the game audio.
I clap my hands slowly and she flicks her fingers at me. Collecting my wining prize, I go for the one I’ve had my eye one since we started the game: a life-sized fluffy teddy bear that’s super soft.
“Megan,” I shout as I head back to her. I hold the bear up to my face so it hides me and all I get is her outburst of laughter.
“Oh, my God, are you kidding me?”
I give it to her and kiss her hair. “Look after this guy. Bears have feelings you know.”
“It’s gorgeous and huge.”
“I think that about myself all the time,” I chuckle.
She rolls her eyes and starts to walk, carrying the bear on her back. The crowds have died and the majority of the rides have shut down as the evening comes to a close. My head, ears and heart are buzzing with how much fun I’ve had tonight.
“Oh damn,” I say. “I never took you on the carousel. I always used to go on that.”
She turns to look at me. She has this look in her eye: that ‘let’s do something naughty’ look. “What are you thinking? In fact, on second thoughts I don’t think I want to know.”
“Come on, I have an idea.” She grabs my hand and pulls me between the rides until we get to an unmoving red and yellow carousel with its lights out. Climbing up she sits the bear on a horse before swinging around one of the polls.
“Are you coming on?” she asks.
Once on, she walks backwards away from me with a shit-eating grin on her face. What is she doing? Realisation kicks in as she heads towards the control panel in the centre of the ride. “Megan, don’t even think—”
She does.
“Holy shit. You didn’t.”
“What? You wanted to go on it, didn’t you?” she giggles. Lights glow in reds and greens as music plays out across the pier as the ride starts to spin. I pull her to me.
“You are so naughty,” I grin, lifting her up on a horse and kissing her softly as we move in a circle around on the ride, getting lost in a world of just us.
“H
ey!” A big guy in a puffy, black jacket and a money pouch heads towards us. We are so dead.
“Fuck,” Megan yells. “Run. Run!”
Grabbing the bear and Megan’s hand, I pull her off the horse. Without stopping we run through the rides and back down the pier with the guy hot on our tail. All I can hear is Megan’s laugh as the wind blows in our faces.
“Where did you learn to do shit like that?” I shout back to her as we continue to chase the pavement.
“Lucas taught me when we were kids. After hours was always the cheapest.”
“You don’t say.”
“I don’t think I can run anymore,” she shouts, laughing. I turn my head to check how far away we are from the fair guy as Megan starts to flag. Grabbing her legs, I lift her over my shoulder as she squeals.
“Andrew, what the fuck?”
“Hold tight, it’s quicker this way,” I chuckle.
Once off the pier and out of sight, we hit Rixton beach and collapse to the sand in fits of laughter.
“Oh, my God, I can’t believe you did that,” I pant.
“Your face was priceless.”
The moon shines on her beautiful face, making her eyes twinkle with her giggles. She’s amazing. No one has ever made me feel this way: not even Chloe. Lifting her chin, I smash my lips on her, sweeping my tongue along her bottom lip before snaking it into her mouth. Kissing her with such depth and passion makes the hairs on my neck raise. My hand smooths over her body and her hands hold my jaw. Tonight, has been perfect. I’ve never laughed so hard, I’ve never run so hard, but above all, it’s made me realise that I’ve never fallen this hard.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Megan
My palms are sweaty, I feel sick and I’ve got no idea if what I’m about to do is the right decision to make. Making the decision to come here wasn’t easy, but it’s been overpowering my mind for the last few days, and for that reason, I needed to come.
There’s no time to back out. Clicks of the young girl’s high heels echo in the large white waiting area as a smile graced her pretty blonde head. She looks too young to being working as an assistant manager; she looks too young to be working at all.
“Ms Simmons, Violet will see you now.”
Fuck.
“Thank you.”
I seriously need to get my shit together: one whiff of vulnerability will have Violet smacking me down to the ground in no time. I must be strong. I must fight. I must keep in mind the man that holds my heart.
As the young girl escorts me down the long hall, my stomach is in knots.
I haven’t told him I’ve come here today—I haven’t told anyone. They all think I’m on some business course to learn how to better my skills in the Entertainment Programme, but I had no intention of ever going.
I smooth over my red dress and take a breath. Red usually makes me feel confident, only as I stand in front of Violets door I feel nothing but anxiety. As the girl opens the door, I’m hit with the smell of fresh linen and honeysuckle. The grand office is more like a penthouse. Tall windows overlook the city and the desk in the far corner is big enough to fit thirty people around it. A soft seating area is at the opposite side of the room with a coffee table and flowers, while the atmosphere of the silent room seems familiar but somehow different.
Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I should go—leave now before I open my mouth and say what I came here to say—but as the woman approaches me in a black business suit, with eyes wide and a white smile as though I’m going to make her day, Andrew’s face comes to mind.
“Ms Simmons, do come in.”
Violet walks towards me in a confident manner and with each step she takes I want to slap her down. How can someone look so professional yet be so fucking cruel to her only child?
“Mrs Harris, pleasure to meet you,” I say, not feeling the politeness on the inside that I show in my face.
“Call me Violet,” she practically orders, as she gestures for me to take a seat. She rounds the desk and sits in her chair. Her posture is dead straight. To the unknown she looks highly professional, Andrew was right, she hides her alcoholism well. I can’t help but see the resemblance to him in her inflexible manner. It must be a mannerism they share to protecting themselves. Her dark hair is up in a tight bun that pulls on her temples but doesn’t fade the winkles around her eyes. I wonder for a second whether they’re laughter lines or from screwing her face up with bitterness. Her complexion is dry: there’s evidence of broken capillaries around her nose and I notice she has a light tremor in her hands, no doubt from the after effects of the alcohol she consumed before work or it’s due to the fact she’s yet to have any today. It’s a shame she’s put her body through years of abuse because underneath all the damage she has the potential to be a beautiful woman.
“So, Ms Simmons, you arranged this meeting to talk about the prospect of our companies working together?”
Like fuck I did, but I had to get in here somehow. I’m drawn to the photo on the small table behind her desk and a chill cascades through me. It’s the same picture of herself and Chloe that I saw on the website, and for some reason seeing it here in her office has more of an effect on me than it did on the internet.
“Ms Simmons?”
“That’s a beautiful photo,” I blurt. She studies me a while, and my stomach churns from her fixed stare before she turns to look at the picture, lifting it across to the desk where we sit. For a moment, it’s as though she forgets I’m in the room as she focuses on the photo in the gold leaves frame.
“This is my daughter in-law. She is beautiful. A fine young woman with so much potential.” A look of love is in her eyes and anger instantly rushes through me. She speaks as though she’s not dead—as thought she’ll walk through the door any moment and ask her if she wants to go to dinner and get shit-faced. This is my perfect opportunity in drive straight into the reason I came today—to tell the piece of shit scum in front of me that her son is worth everything and more. My hands ball in my lap as I try to control the irritation that’s bubbling.
“Oh, you have son?” I ask.
Her sudden discomfort from my words is noticeable, which only encourages me to stick the knife in more. “There is no mention of him on your webpage.”
“Yes. Anyway, let’s get back to business.” She’s keen to change the subject, but I’m not. Now that I’ve witness the light in her eyes over a dead woman and the coldness in them with the mention of her son, I’m ready to push the limits.
“What is he like? Your son.”
“So, this business of yours tell me about it—”
“Tell me about your son. Is he charming? Successful?” My temper is rising on the inside at the way she can’t even say anything about Andrew. Any words I utter in regards to him, no matter how small, I see the reaction in her eyes as if I’m torching her with poison. “Is he kind? Thoughtful? Passionate?”
“I’m sorry, but you’re here on business not—”
“I’m not here to talk business. I’m here to talk about your son!” I snap.
She’s giving nothing away. The veins in her temples that stand out and the clench of her jaw are the only indications that show I’ve hit a nerve. It’s clear she loathes him as much as he said she did, but she somehow has the control to hide her anger. It infuriates me more. Is she like this with Andrew? Has she got the power to piss him off by not showing any form of emotion?
“Who the hell are you and what exactly are you trying to achieve here?”
My heart is pounding in my chest as heat prickles the back of my neck and arms. Her words unexpectedly hit my stomach hard. She’s right, what the hell is this? It’s as though all my rational thoughts of this moment that have consumed me these last few days have slapped me in the face and made me realise how fucking stupid I’m being. What was coming here going to achieve? I guess my first thought was to protect Andrew—to show her how wrong she is about him and that he’s not the man she’s always loathed. Only now it’s too
late to recover from this because the damage has already been done. But even though I should get out while I can, I can’t, because no matter how much trouble this may cause, I have to stand by the man who has taken my heart. Everyone in his life has either left him or abandoned him, and I’m not prepared to do either.
“I don’t understand why you can’t even say his name, Violet. After all, if it were not for Andrew you’d never have had your precious Chloe.”
With no emotion, she stands from her seat and smooths the front of her skirt as if she’s about to make a speech to a room full of people. “And if it wasn’t for that creature, Chloe would still be alive!” Again, her voice is poised but the malice behind her words sends a chill down my spine. Her face turns red, her nostrils flare a little as the tip of her nose turns purple. She’s far from finished. “If it were not for that weak, pathetic excuse of a human being and his ability to cause misery, she’d still be here to provide me with a granddaughter. But he couldn’t even get that right.”
I feel sick. My blood boils with her words. My nails dig in my hands to prevent me from lashing out and slamming her champagne head to the wall and showing her how I really feel. Right now, I’d happily do time for killing this bitch.
“You know, this hang up you have about the fact you’ve not got a daughter is a little pathetic. Andrew is a good man. He’s the strongest man I know, and if you were to get your head out of your fucking ass, you’d realise just how incredible your son truly is. How can you stand here and degrade him like you are when you have no idea what sort of man he is—when you’ve practically abandoned him, you selfish bitch!”
“Oh, I know exactly the type of man he is. He’s a constant disappointment. I’ve unfortunately had years of experience and misery at the hands of that useless piece of shit. You clearly have a lot to learn when it comes to him.”
“He’s your son!”
“He’s nothing more than an inconvenience that I don’t wish to waste my time over. Now, I suggest you walk your pretty ass out of my office and crawl back to him before I call security and have you thrown to the gutter where you belong.”
