by Janey Rosen
The Ford Focus indicates, and nudges into the traffic three cars behind ours.
Sebastian presses an illuminated button on his dash and the car is filled with stirring music, which I recognize to be Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major – a beautiful piece in which I lose myself as I gaze at the road ahead. Neither of us feels the need for words as we become absorbed in the music.
The Ford maintains its position behind us – out of Sebastian’s view but following us still.
Arriving at The Willows hotel, I am instantly impressed. It’s quietly elegant but not pretentious, and I wonder if Sebastian has been here before as he leads us confidently and knowingly through the foyer and into a small, intimate bar adjacent to the restaurant.
Sebastian places a hand on the small of my back and I feel the sparks again and catch my breath. He guides me to a large tartan covered couch, and we sit. The couch is aged and the cushions soft, and we sink down together, his leg pressed against mine, his elbow touching my breast. He doesn’t adjust his position to put more distance between us.
A waiter soon approaches and Sebastian orders a bottle of Pol Roget.
The waiter pours a little of the champagne into sparkling crystal flutes. It’s deliciously chilled, and as I sip the dry bubbles, I feel relaxed with this man. I feel I’ve misjudged him - there is no hint of arrogance today. He seems jovial and approachable, I decide to strike now and launch into interrogation part two.
“Sebastian, the other night, in your kitchen, I told you things that I haven’t told anyone before and yet I know so little about you. Tell me everything - about your life, work and your family. Please. You’re so mysterious.” I wonder how much he will divulge to me. By ‘family’ of course I’m hoping he won’t spring a lover and children on me and, of course, I await confirmation that his poor unfortunate wife is dead.
He sinks further into the cushions, placing his left arm along the length of our seat, so that his hand rests behind my back, making me shiver with the nearness of him.
“There’s such a lot to tell you, Elizabeth.” His fingers fidget with the upholstery piping. “I’m very fortunate because I’ve inherited a title, land and the wonderful house but I’ve also inherited a burden of responsibility, and that burden is not an easy cross to bare.”
This is intriguing. Nodding, I urge him to continue.
“But, inquisitive lady, you will just have to be patient. I’ll tell you more about me, but not now.” What? He is indeed the most infuriating man I have met.
“Sebastian,” I whine, “I’m not a patient person. At least answer a question for me please,” I am not letting him off that lightly.
He raises one of his dark eyebrows at me, and his arm moves from behind me into a more defensive, arms crossed pose. I’m pushing my luck but I press on.
“I understand you’ve been married and…I think your wife passed away…oh gosh that sounds insensitive and I don’t mean it to…” I’m digging a huge crater sized hole for myself but again I press on.
“I just wondered if you are on your own or if you have a special person in your life?”
Shoot me now. Why don’t I just come out and ask him if he’s single and if he wants to come to bed with me, that’s how he will interpret my stupid question.
He’s looking at me with a smirk on his face damn him. “Well now, you speak your mind don’t you Elizabeth? I can see that you’ve been listening to gossip but, yes, you’re right – my wife Libby did sadly die. To answer your second question, I’ve many special people in my life but I’m unattached romantically.”
I have no idea what he means. He is staring at me as he sips from his glass.
“That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” His lip curls and he cocks an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask if I’m available?”
The champagne spits from my mouth as I choke on his audacity.
“No.” I counter. “That’s not what I meant.” Recovering my composure, I straighten a cushion and put my glass on the polished table in front of us.
“I’m sorry to hear about your wife, truly.” Poor man. I wonder how she died. I decide to keep quiet and drink more champagne and thankfully we are ushered into the restaurant for lunch.
“Come. We’ll talk more over lunch.” He takes my hand and we leave the bar with our hands entwined and the touch of his skin on mine makes me ache with need.
Over lunch of sea bass, conversation flows freely. We chat about more light-hearted topics such as my work, and he tells me a little about his house and life in Cornwall.
He tells me about the tenant farmers who provide the income to maintain his estate. He looks worried when he tells me that, over the years, the tenants – some of whom have lived on his estate for generations – gradually leave, as farming is hit by the recession and EU subsidy reductions. He talks freely, but doesn’t divulge a great deal of personal or intimate information about himself. He seems a very private man but also a deep thinker, and is incredibly intelligent.
Lunch is divine and I can see why Sebastian chose this place. After coffee Sebastian requests the bill and I offer to share the bill, but he insists on settling the bill himself.
“One thing you will accept is that I’ll never allow a woman to pay. Get used to it because it won’t change.” How refreshing.
As we walk out to Sebastian’s car I freeze in absolute horror. Alan is leaning against the bonnet of Sebastian’s car and he looks furious. I feel light headed and nauseous. Alan marches towards us, his face masked in fury.
5
“You cheating bitch,” he spits venomously at me. “I thought you looked too fucking dolled up for a meeting you lying whore.”
I want to run, but Sebastian places his hand firmly on my arm and I feel him straighten and tense beside me.
“Stay where you are. I’ll handle this,” he warns me.
“Who the fuck’s this?” Alan shoves Sebastian’s shoulder. Fearing Sebastian, or Alan, may hit out I stand between the two men. I’m shaking.
“Alan for God’s sake. I’ve had lunch with a colleague that’s all”
He’s not listening to me. He’s beating his fists against his legs menacingly. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you slut.”
Sebastian steps forward, pushing me aside so that he squares up to my husband. His face contorts with a rage that far exceeds Alan’s and for a moment, Alan looks scared. Unsure what to do and consumed by panic, I turn and run back into the hotel wanting to escape.
Tears streaming down my hot cheeks, I seek solace in the ladies’ cloakroom. I lock myself into a cubicle and sob. I’m so unhappy. I love my children and I don’t want my life with them to change but, if I was happy, I wouldn’t be having lunch with Sebastian. It’s all so confusing and I feel wracked with guilt, but also angry with Alan for following and humiliating me. My unhappiness, compounded by stress, causes the tears to spill forth as I lean against the cubicle wall.
After a few minutes, I hear the door to the ladies cloakroom open and the sound of heavy footsteps cross the tiled floor and I see, through my tears, a pair of black shiny shoes beneath my cubicle door.
“Open the door, Elizabeth.”
Opening the door I look up at Sebastian and see his face full of concern and compassion, and this makes me sob again.
He pulls me into his arms and tightly embraces me and it feels so safe, so comforting to be held by his strong arms, my tear stained face against his chest. He puts a finger under my chin and raises my face and tells me not to cry. Alan has gone, and he whispers to me that all will be ok. I want to believe him.
He lowers his head and kisses each of my eyes, and then his lips find mine. I kiss him too then, passionately and deeply, my mouth hungry for his. Our tongues meet and we taste each other for the first time. I press against him harder, and his arms tighten around me. I feel his hardness then against me, and a current of excitement runs down my spine and all the way down to my sex.
Our lips part and I feel breathless as my chest heaves.
My raw desire for this man shocks and shames me and yet I want more. I want all of him, to feel him inside me.
“Elizabeth I want you more than I’ve wanted anyone in my life. I know you want me too,” he rasps. “I want to protect you. To take all this away from you.”
“I don’t know, Sebastian, but … I’m married. Oh God, what a mess.” The tears come again.
“Darling, you don’t know me yet, you’re right, but you will. We’ll get to know each other. Come.” He takes my hand and leads me to the basins where he runs a paper towel under the cold tap and wipes away my tears and black streaks of mascara from beneath my eyes.
The door opens, and an elderly lady enters the cloakroom. She gasps when she sees a man in there and hastily retreats back through the door, flapping disapprovingly. I look at Sebastian and we laugh! Goodness knows what I have to laugh about but I can’t help it, my laughter verges on hysteria.
As we leave the hotel and walk back to Sebastian’s car, my eyes dart across the car park, searching for Alan’s car but it’s not there.
As we drive back to my office I’m wondering what I’m going to do – can I go home? I haven’t technically done anything wrong and certainly not what Alan believes. The kiss was wrong, yes, but it was not adultery, but will Alan believe anything I say? What if he boots me out of the house … what will happen to the children? Oh fuck, what a mess.
Intuitively, Sebastian reaches across and lays a hand on my knee, casting a glance across.
“You ok?” His hand moves from my knee and grasps my hand in his. He strokes my palm with his fingertips.
“I’m so screwed up. Shit, Sebastian what am I going to do? I hate him.” I look at him for guidance, but he stares at the road, his expression unreadable.
“You know you’ve always got a safe place to stay at Penmorrow. You and the children.” He looks at me briefly again.
“That’s so thoughtful, thank you.” I squeeze his hand, with the realisation that I’ve misjudged this man, who is caring rather than arrogant.
“I mean it, Elizabeth. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
“I know you do,” I say gratefully, “and you’ve no idea how much that means to me, but this is something I have to work out by myself. I’ve made my bed and now I have to lie in it … that’s what mum always says.”
Sebastian parks in a space near to my office and cuts the engine. For a few moments we don’t speak, my thoughts centred on the ramifications of today. He gets out of the car and walks around the car to open my door. He holds out a hand and I take it in mine and step from the car onto the pavement. For a fleeting moment, I feel a spark from his touch until he pulls his hand away and in that moment I know that I can’t see Sebastian again … not until I know for sure that Alan and I are over. The pain from this decision is tangible, a hard twisted knot forms in my stomach.
“Elizabeth, take my card,” he says, handing me a small white card with his name and contact details embossed in gold.
“I want you to call me tonight when you get home, to let me know that you’re ok.”
“Actually Sebastian I’d rather not call. I need some space to think about my life, and to see if Alan and I can work through our problems,” I tell him sorrowfully. Of course this isn’t what I want. I want Sebastian - need to see him and more, but I am thinking now about the harsh reality and implications for my children, and the devastation they would feel if Alan and I were to separate.
“I see, as you wish of course. You have my card, and I’m here if you need me.” He looks forlorn as he embraces me and kisses my hair. As he gets into his car and drives away without a backward glance, I want to run after his car – tell him I’ve made a mistake, I love him. Instead I walk with a heavy heart, back to work.
Ruth looks up from her desk as I enter our offices. She looks at my blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes and frowns.
“Beth, love, whatever’s happened?” She asks.
“Come and sit down and I’ll make us a brew, you can tell me all about it.”
“Oh Ruth, I’ve had the most amazing and the most terrible time” I whine. “I had lunch with the man who owns the house I went to last weekend and Alan must have followed us! He called me such dreadful names, Ruth and obviously thinks I’ve been having an affair.”
“Blimey. You mean the Lord? What was he doing in Dorset?” she asks.
“Drove up just to see me.”
“Hell, Beth I could tell you liked him. You’re playing with fire you know. I warned you about something like this happening.”
After a moment of contemplation, she asks what I intend to do. “I suggest you go home and talk to Alan before this ‘thing’ escalates.”
“I know you’re right, but it’s made me realise I definitely don’t want my life with Alan. I still want more, I want to feel desired and sexy and not just a drudge – I want to be me but I’ve forgotten who me is!” I sob.
“I understand Beth, I really do,” she replies. “Look, I know it’s a cliché but the grass really isn’t greener on the other side. Give it a month or two with the Lord and I guarantee he’ll be farting, snoring and boring the pants off you just like all men! It’s all sex and candlelight for the first few weeks and then wham! bam! Thank you mam! And before you know it you’re washing his socks and wondering where the romance went. Trust me! We’ve talked about this before.”
I look at Ruth incredulously, and we both burst into a giggling fit, hysteria rising within me once again. She has the most eloquent way of putting across her point and I do love her.
Ruth brings me a mug of tea, and I go to my office and close the door. There is so much to think about, but I’ll face Alan later, for now I need to check my emails and catch up on some work.
I wake up my laptop and sign in to my Yahoo account. Immediately I see an email from Alan’s best friend, Mike. He was Best Man at our wedding and has known Alan since school days.
From: Mike Breeze
To: Beth Dove
Sent: Friday 16 November 2012 15:46
Subject: Alan
Hi Beth
I’ve had a call from Alan and he’s in bits, love. I’m not sure what’s going on with you but, honestly, I’ve not heard him so cut up before. He’s asked me to talk some sense into you but you’re a big girl, just don’t hurt him.
Love Mike x
Mike has always taken Alan’s side but then he would, he’s his best friend.
I decide not to answer his email, there being little point. Instead I pick up my things and set off for home, I really cannot concentrate on work. My head is full of hot kisses and angry husbands.
Alan’s car is parked on the drive, so I know he didn’t go back to work this afternoon.
I let myself into the house and close the front door. I see Alan sat at the kitchen table clasping a tumbler of whisky. He’s been drinking, that’s not good.
“Alan, we need to talk.” I sit down at the kitchen table across from him rather than next to him, wanting to put space between us. He looks at me over the top of his glass, which I note is nearly empty. “I know it looked bad today, but there’s nothing going on,” I continue.
“The kids are fine, nice of you to remember you have them.” He’s full of malice. I reach across and pick up his whisky tumbler, draining the glass. The amber liquid burns my throat, the alcohol fuelling my confidence.
“Do you know what Beth? What saddens me most is that if it’s not him it’ll be someone else. I don’t make you happy and there’s naff all I can do about it. I am who I am, and it’s never going to be enough for you.” He looks me in the eye and adds, “I just don’t like the bloody deceit Beth.”
“You have to believe me Alan, it was just lunch. I’ve got enough going on in my life without all this mess. Let’s just get on with our lives as best we can for the kids ok?”
He nods dejectedly and I can see that he’s weary, and drunk. I’m surprised, however, to get off so lightly after this afternoon
’s confrontation. I’m relieved but deep down, I know that I want to see Sebastian again – the deep longing in the pit of my stomach is gnawing away at my insides.
I go to bed early and open a book, and lose myself in the erotic fiction. As I read, I become the heroine and Sebastian is the lead male. It’s me bending over the bed, and it’s Sebastian who is pounding into me from behind. As I read on, my hand moves down between my legs and my fingers probe my wetness. I circle my sweetest bud with my finger with increasing urgency, and feel myself building, climbing to the release I need.
Drifting into a restless sleep, I’m back in the house in Cornwall. I’m running desperately from room to room and Sebastian is chasing me. He’s dressed in black and is followed by the girl. They’re covered in cobwebs, and screaming for me to run to the cellar. I wake up with a jolt, bathed in sweat.
6
It’s Saturday, and a beautiful crisp autumn day. Despite the frostiness from Alan throughout the rest of the week, I am determined to make the weekend an enjoyable one for the children. I have heard nothing further from Sebastian or from Simon.
Today, we have Alan’s parents, Dora and Brian, his sister Sarah and her husband Nathan, and their young twin sons coming to lunch, so I have lots to do in preparation. It’s usually an enjoyable time when the family visits, with lots of laughter although Nathan is a drinker, and a little unpredictable.
The roast lamb is ready and the family arrives, everyone is in good spirits and even Alan’s mood has lifted. The twins are giggling as they jump on top of Joe, and Alan and Nathan are having a chat in the study while Dora helps me in the kitchen. Happy families, I muse.
Lunch is delicious and the conversation, and wine, flows. Sarah tells us that she and Nathan are celebrating their forthcoming wedding anniversary next week, and Dora and Brian are babysitting so that they can have some ‘couple’ time.
