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Highly Unsuitable Girl

Page 9

by Carolyn McCrae


  “Yes I knew that but that was years ago. Has she always been like that?”

  “Always. Nothing will change her.”

  “We’ll see.” Anya spoke deliberately.

  Dave looked at John, the look said ‘this isn’t going to have a happy ending’.

  “Immovable object.”

  “Irresistible force.”

  “Mountain.”

  “Mohammed.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing Anya, just man stuff.”

  Tim extracted himself from the reception line, an action he felt excusable since most of the guests had arrived, and walked straight towards Anya.

  “Can I get you another drink?”

  She had no chance to answer as he put his hand firmly under her elbow and propelled her towards the kitchen. She wondered fleetingly if Geoff had noticed.

  “You are just too gorgeous to leave with those two.”

  “I like them. They’re fun.”

  “So am I.”

  “You’re about to get engaged.”

  “Come outside anyway, just for a minute.”

  “A minute? That’s all you think it’ll take?” She asked provocatively, but she allowed him to lead her through the kitchen door and into the dark part of the garden. He walked quickly for the time. When he finally stopped, he turned and put his arms around her.

  “I’m about to give you what you’ve been asking for.”

  “I’ve been asking for? How do you make that out?”

  “Your dress. The fact that you are wearing nothing underneath.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I can tell.” Tim ran his hand slowly from the nape of her neck down her back, past her waist, and rested on her buttocks. “No bra, no pants, nothing.”

  She placed her index finger gently on his lips and ran it down, over his chin, down his neck and his chest, past his waist and onto his trousers which were bulging.

  “And you are …”

  “Come on.” His voice was low and urgent.

  He took her hand and led her further into the trees, she thought they must be a hundred yards from the house by now and he seemed to know exactly where he was going. He stopped at a slight clearing where a rug was on the ground.

  “Prepared?” She asked.

  “Absolutely. Someone would be willing, even if it had only been Margaret.”

  “Hardly a flattering thing to say about your fiancée.”

  “She isn’t my fiancée yet.”

  “Or me for that matter.”

  “Would flattery make any difference?”

  “No.”

  While they sparred Tim had taken off his jacket and folded it carefully inside out before placing it on the ground, then he became more urgent, pushing Anya down with one hand and pushing her dress up with the other. She parted her legs and accepted him willingly.

  He came quickly and she was not at all satisfied but she was exultant. He had taken her on the night of his engagement, she decided he would on the day of his wedding, and perhaps on a few occasions before and after. Sex was as important to Tim as it was to her and to Geoff. Thoughts of Geoff didn’t worry her, in the past months neither had expected the other to be faithful, and their having sex with others had added to their excitement of their own relationship.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked, in a perfectly normal voice as he pushed his shirt down inside his trousers and sorted out the ridiculous maroon cummerbund he had been forced by his mother to wear.

  “Heading back up north I suppose.” Anya answered nonchalantly, determined that Tim should realise he was nothing special.

  “But is that it?” she asked, “That’s all you’ve got to offer?”

  He leant down and kissed her properly for the first time. After just the right amount of time she let his tongue into her mouth and alternately bit and licked it gently, it was a kiss like none Tim had ever experienced. He pulled away, aroused and admiring. “Again?” They reversed the process of dressing and this time he lasted longer and Anya was nearly satisfied.

  “Won’t they be wondering where we are?”

  “I shouldn’t think so.”

  “Your future mother-in-law will be keeping her eagle eyes on you every minute she can for the rest of her life.”

  “I think you’re right. Again?”

  “Take a little longer this time please.” She asked, showing him she was totally in control of herself, and of him.

  Anya was beginning to be impressed with Tim’s stamina. She approved, three times in fifteen minutes was good going and each time he was giving her more pleasure.

  “Come on. Sort yourself out.”

  Tim stood up and sorted his clothes out again. “How do I look?”

  “Reasonable considering you’ve been fucking the shit out of me.”

  Tim looked at her fiercely disapprovingly. “Do you normally talk like that?”

  “What? Saying you’ve been fucking me? It’s what you’ve been doing.”

  “Is that what Geoff does?”

  Was he asking whether he was better than Geoff? She’d go along with the game. “Does Geoff fuck me? Of course he does, though usually he lasts a little longer.” She noticed him frown slightly.

  “But how often?”

  “Oh usually every day, sometimes twice, sometimes three times.”

  “Never four?”

  Anya thought how stupid men were to be so competitive and how inevitably Tim was rising to the bait. “I can’t possibly say.”

  He pushed her back and ripped her dress as he forced himself down into her one more time and proved to himself, if not to Anya, that he was a better lover than Geoff.

  “That’s enough Tim, we must get back to the party.”

  “Well you can’t go with that dress. Look, it’s torn and filthy.”

  She had worn it for a little under two hours but somehow she thought her mother would approve.

  Ten minutes later she was back in the party, wearing jeans, white t-shirt and high red heels.

  “Anne, dear.” She heard Mrs Philips’s voice and turned around. “I see you’ve changed, what happened to your lovely dress?”

  Anya spoke very clearly with no trace of any accent other than refined middle class. “Anya, my name is Anya, and I’m afraid I spilt some wine which made it rather see-through. I’m afraid these are the only other clothes I have to change into. I do apologise to be so inappropriately dressed but it’s not what people wear but the way they behave that matters, don’t you agree?” She was delighted with the ambiguity of her words.

  “Such a shame.” Mrs Philips didn’t believe a word of the story about wine. If ever she had seen a girl who had been lying on her back for a man this was it. She looked around for Geoff and saw him doing his duty talking to Fiona, Esme and some cousins of Tim. The other candidate, in Kathleen’s mind, was Tim and she found him laughing with Dave and John. His tie didn’t look quite as neatly tied as it had an hour before, and he looked very relaxed. Her suspicions were furthered by the fact he was not with Margaret. She tapped a small silver swizzle stick against her champagne glasses to bring everyone’s attention to her. It didn’t take long. Everyone had been waiting for the speeches to be over with so they could get on with the party.

  “Ladies. Gentlemen.” She spoke quietly having long ago realised that that was the way to get people to listen. “I think my son has an announcement to make.”

  There was a small, self-conscious meeting of hands in something approaching applause.

  “I have my speech here. Just a moment.” Dramatically he took what looked like a sheet of paper from his pocket. It was computer paper, sheet after sheet with perforated joins and sprocket holes at each side dropped down to the floor. Everyone laughed on cue. “Only joking.” Everyone stopped laughing, again right on cue. “I think we all know what the announcement is, after all the invitations did say ‘to celebrate the engagement of Margaret with, what is his name?” Again people laugh
ed self-consciously at the weak joke. “Ah yes. Tim. Well come on Tim? Margaret? Where are they? Have they sneaked off somewhere to practise for their wedding night?” Dave and John started to laugh but stopped quickly as theirs was the only laughter. “Ah here they are.” Tim and Margaret walked from different parts of the room to stand by Geoff. “I’ll hand over to Tim.”

  Anya had to admire Tim’s ability to step into character. No one would have guessed what he had been saying and doing minutes before as he charmed his family and guests with a smoothly prepared speech.

  “I just want to say that when Margaret’s pregnant mum and mine, slightly more pregnant, got together about 27 years ago they decided one would have a girl and one would have a boy and that in 27 years’ time they would get engaged. The first part of their plan came to fruition. I was born and then, four months later Margaret came into the world and, as you can see, she is most definitely a girl!” Everyone muttered the required agreement at the clever compliment.

  “The second part of their plan took rather longer. Margaret and I had to grow up which, I think, we have almost done. Then, of course, we had to fall in love with each other. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have Margaret to love. I can’t remember a time when she was not a part of my life and I can’t imagine a time when she would not be.” Tim paused and took Margaret’s hand. “Margaret Olivia Philips. Would you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?” Margaret blushed and made a mock curtsey. “I will.” He pulled her up and kissed her lightly on the mouth. He was aware that she tensed slightly in a barely perceptible flinch as his lips met hers.

  Geoffrey raised his glass. “A toast, ladies and gentlemen. Margaret and Timothy.” Mutterings of ‘Margaret and Timothy’ were followed by the clink of glasses and a short round of applause with calls for more champagne.

  Anya had watched all this carefully, as if learning a part in a play. It was so contrived, so outside anything she had ever experienced. She admired Tim’s careful choice of words. She, perhaps alone in the room apart from Margaret, had realised that Tim had never actually said he loved his fiancée.

  Margaret had, up to the moment that Tim had leant down to kiss her, been happy. But as he had lent down to kiss her she had noticed lipstick on his collar, just a trace, but enough, and of a recognisable shade. Anya’s. Anya had kissed Tim low down on the neck. Not somewhere where you would lay a social kiss, even if Anya were the sort to do social kissing. No. Tim and Anya had been snogging. At the very least. Tim had been off with that tart tonight, her night. She knew it as clearly as if she had been watching. She was hurt, and she was angry.

  Without fuss, and unnoticed by all but her mother, Margaret took her fiancé’s hand and led him out of the room. Kathleen didn’t mind, they were engaged now, she didn’t care what they got up to.

  Tim followed Margaret up the stairs to her room anticipating a session of Margaret’s wet open mouthed kisses. Instead, as he closed her bedroom door behind them, he received a sharp, painful, slap on his face.

  “You shit, you absolute shit. You’ve been with her haven’t you?”

  He had to strain to hear her, she spoke so quietly.

  “What?”

  “You and that, that Liverpudlian slut.” She spat the words out, as if squeezing the words between her teeth. “Her lipstick is on your collar. Low down. And why did she have to change! I bet she didn’t spill wine on her dress. She ruined it lying on the ground her legs spread for you didn’t she.” It wasn’t a question so he said nothing, waiting for her to fall quiet. “You bastard, you absolute bloody bastard.” And she pummelled her fists against his chest, careless that her tears were destroying her makeup, unable to put her jealousy and pain into words.

  “Margaret, Maggie, my Moppet. Calm down.” Tim was soothing her, holding her tight to him so she couldn’t hit him anymore. It took a few minutes but eventually he felt her body relax. “Nothing happened, Moppet, honestly nothing. She tried it on but I said no. Geoff is welcome to her. Honestly nothing happened. Here.” He handed her his handkerchief so she could wipe her tears and clean her face.

  Without a word she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. She let it fall to the ground and as she stepped out of it he tried not to look at the white flesh between the patches of unattractive underwear. He looked at her face, it seemed the safest thing to do, but her eyes never left the floor as she let him lead her to the bed.

  His passion sated by Anya, without fuss, recrimination or any enjoyment on either side, Tim took his future wife’s virginity.

  Breakfast the next morning was always going to be difficult.

  As Kathleen laid the table her mind was on the events of the night before. The party had undoubtedly been a success. She believed all the guests had had a good time, the last of them leaving well after one o’clock in the morning. There was very little food left indicating, to Kathleen, that she had supplied exactly the correct amount and there had been more than enough wine and champagne for everyone. Perhaps the most satisfying part of the evening was that Geoffrey had performed his role magnificently. She carefully straightened the cutlery that Geoffrey would be using when he came down to breakfast, he really was a very good boy. She just had to make him realise that Anya was completely unsuitable for anything other than being a vessel into which he could sow his youthful wild oats. She would soon make him understand that Fiona was the wife for him. She decided to have a word with Fiona, she must give Geoff some encouragement, otherwise she would lose him. They would both lose him.

  “Good morning Darling.”

  “Yeah. Mum.”

  “Don’t call me…”

  “I know. ‘don’t call me Mum’. I don’t care really. You know Anya screwed Tim last night. Four times apparently. Not bad going really.” He spoke conversationally, as he poured cornflakes into a bowl and sprinkled it with sugar, as if what he said was the most normal conversation at breakfast.

  She had to impose her authority. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Well they did.” He poured some milk on the cereal and went to sit down. “Are you absolutely sure you want Margaret to marry him? He’s obviously not going to change. I can’t see him being a particularly faithful husband.”

  Kathleen knew that he was right but wasn’t sure it was a conversation they should be having as she didn’t expect husbands to be faithful. She had always felt it best to ignore her Geoffrey’s indiscretions, and since they were never mentioned it was as if they never happened. She had always thought that the best approach. It would, however, never have occurred to her to be unfaithful, as it was a woman’s duty to support her man. She turned the question back to her son. “Don’t you mind? Surely you can’t like to see your girlfriend being used so by another man.” She tried to sound concerned and caring but, having decided she had to drive a wedge between them continued relentlessly. “Are you sure it was only Tim last night. I mean, John and David, well, she seemed to spend a lot of time with them.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re getting at but she’s free to do what she likes.” He paused, wondering whether or not to shock his mother and decided he would. “You know why? She likes sex. She’s good at it, very good. She’s got a man’s attitude to it, if someone offers she takes them up on it. Tim must have offered and Anya would not have said no and if the others did, so what? At the end of the evening she came back to me. She always does.”

  “She came back to you?”

  “Of course we slept together last night. We do every night. She said Tim was very good at …”

  “You’ve changed Geoffrey.” Kathleen interrupted. She had no intention of knowing what Tim was very good at.

  “I’ve grown up? Escaped your apron strings? Started making my own decisions about what I want to do and who I want in my life? You can’t manipulate me as you have manipulated Margaret.”

  “Let’s not argue, darling, I just want you to be happy. Your father…”

  “Don’t, and I mean don’t, do that mother.
I am not my father, I will never be. I could never live up to the idealised memory you have of him, even he probably wouldn’t have been able to live up to that.”

  Kathleen was too shocked that her tactic, reliable for so many years, had failed.

  “But she hardly knew them.” She tried to have the last word.

  “I hardly knew her. In fact it took me less than an hour to get her into bed, it took Tim over 24.”

  Kathleen had one last attempt at resurrecting her plan. “What about Fiona? She’s such a…”

  “… boring girl, a boring little virgin who will always remain so. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s a lesbian. Just accept my world has changed I’m with Anya now and I will not give her up. You must understand it really doesn’t matter that she fucks with other men. It doesn’t matter, as long as she comes back to me, which she has done and which she will always do.”

  Kathleen was appalled. It all sounded so, she fumbled in her mind for the right words and after firmly rejecting ‘permanent’ found ‘long term’.

  “Did you buy her that ring?” Kathleen could not resist asking any longer and she could not keep the hostility from her voice.

  “What ring?”

  “The ring on Anya’s finger.”

  “I haven’t bought her a ring. Yet. If she’s wearing a ring it’ll be her mother’s. You know her mother died last year don’t you? Of course you don’t because you’ve never asked anything about her. You know nothing about her but you’ve made up your mind and you are so wrong.”

  Kathleen was stunned by the cold hostility in her son’s voice as he stood up to her. It was a tone so like the one his father had used when he was telling her how much he despised her and how he wished they had never married, how incompetent she had been, how incapable of the simplest task for a woman, the task of giving her husband a son. She could not stop the genuine tears that welled in her eyes.

  Geoff made no sign he had noticed. “We’re going back to Liverpool. We’ve got a flat together I’ll let you know the address so you can send us a ‘Happiness in your New Home’ card.”

  The argument with his mother was over, the uneasy silence broken only by the sound of a religious service on the radio when Margaret joined them.

 

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