“Understand what?”
He gazes into my eyes and beckons me to open up. I know I am giving myself away because I feel the heat behind my eyes. Tears approach.
“Something… left me scarred, Laurie.”
I shut down immediately and pull myself off his lap. It’s the first time I have told anyone that. I pull my knees up to my chest and bite my thumb. I have no idea why I can’t just shag him! I hate myself. I have no idea why I always have to ruin things!
Instead of recoiling, he just scoots up closer and holds my hand. He rubs the back of it like he did in the coffee shop and kisses my cheek.
“Let me hold ya, Jules.”
I comply and we fall down on the sofa, him beneath me and his arms around my back. We lay in silence and he rubs his nose in my hair.
After a while, I manage to push all my bad thoughts away, so I sit up on his chest and look down on him. I thumb the stubble on his top lip and tell him, “You’re handsome.”
He reaches up to twirl a strand of my hair between his fingers.
“Ye are feckin’ gorgeous, lass.”
We’re compressed and kissing again within seconds and I ask him to take me to bed. I might regret it but right now, it feels so good and he’s so wonderful.
He makes fast work of it and our clothes are off. He’s making love to me and it feels too good. He holds me and kisses me and repeatedly tells me how lovely I am, how lucky he was to bump into me today.
I hold on tight and pull him as close as I can get him. I don’t think he has any idea how lonely I have been. No idea. I pull him into my nook so he won’t see my eyes as I cry. It’s amazing and making me feel so sad. I have waited so long for someone like him to love me like this.
Laurie doesn’t realise, but with every breath he breathes into my hair and with every sweep of his fingers over my back, he is taking away so much pain and loneliness. I hold on to him and say my prayers. I hope he never leaves me. I think I could fall in love with him very easily.
“I am still takin’ ya for dinner,” he promises afterwards, holding me close.
I nod with a big grin on my face and I think my days of living under this black cloud are finally over.
Chapter Fifteen
Jules
“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Warrick interrupts me.
“You won’t like it, I know you won’t. Not if you’re a decent man with anything about you.”
The fire is roaring now and I have brought the duvet in from my bedroom. Warrick and I are both underneath it on the sofa, him at the end rubbing my feet on his lap. Perhaps he is trying to soothe me as I unfurl this tale. It’s not working, but I won’t tell him that. Not even a gallon of chocolate sauce could stop the hurt, as I recall what Laurie did to me.
“Is that what women really want, Jules? To be picked up on the street and taken home and… you know?”
I chuckle. “I honestly don’t know, Rick. I don’t know what we want. Half the time, maybe we are told what we want. As you’ve probably gathered, he was only the second person I slept with… and then…”
“Terrible, bad luck?”
“Or… something else…?”
“I want to admit something to you, Jules? If we are to spend more time together, you deserve to know the truth.”
“Yes?” I stare at him, now concerned by his grave tone of voice.
“Yes. I…in the police… I was undercover, you remember me saying?”
“I do.” My stomach hurts with what he may tell me. Was he a bad man too?
“I got caught up, in it all. Slept with one of the trafficker’s girls to ingratiate myself. It was from then onwards that things started to go downhill for me. I did some things after that. I lost my way…”
I stare at the fire and remove my feet from his hands, drawing back away from him.
“Your wife found out?”
He nods.
“I lost everything, Jules. She wouldn’t let me near my son. I was addicted to speed and other stuff. I wasn’t meant for all that, you know? I should never have gotten involved in that world, but I did. I saved numerous people from harm. I was the pivotal force in that operation, a hero in some respects. But the cost… I can’t even think of the cost. Some days, it would swallow me up if I let it.”
I turn to him and give him back my feet, and he rubs them once more.
“What’s worse? Being untrue to yourself or others?”
That question has him stumped. He has to look away from me.
“Myself. If I had been true to myself, none of that would have happened,” he admits.
“If I had been true to myself, then I would have told Laurie to wait. You know? See each other a bit before going all the way. If I had been true to myself, I would have…” I pause, shaking my ghosts away, “…but I was enamoured. Not thinking straight.”
“Let’s hear the rest then…”
Chapter Sixteen
Jules’ Past
I’m sat in a rustic, Italian restaurant with the biggest, stupidest bloody grin on my face. He still doesn’t have any idea how happy he makes me feel. I have never known happiness, not really. Over tub talk, I learnt he is a musician and tours with a band called Gumdrops. They play a mixture of Indie and Electro and resident at the Adelphi. He had a name for their music but for the life of me, I cannot remember it. As for his day job, he lectures in sports psychology at the university and even now, I am swooning over that alone. All my Christmases have come at once.
“Ye look so bloody sensational, lass.”
I’m not wearing the idiotic black work dress. We dashed out of the flat after our bath and went into town. We had an hour before the shops shut, but the delirium of lovemaking was clouding my judgement and it did not matter. I bought myself a daring SJP dress: strapless, full skirt, pink polka dots decorating the black mesh overlay, with black silk slip underneath. He didn’t want to leave my side and go home for clean clothes so he bought himself a tuxedo shirt from House of Fraser and a pair of skinny black jeans. We had takeaway lattes on the bus on the way home and when I felt his hand around my shoulder, I swear I saw stars. It’s ridiculous. But I did. A man was protectively holding me and openly displaying that he’s with me! Heavenly, is what I’d call it. We got back to the flat and he made love to me up against a wall, and we bathed for a second time, and now we’re in this restaurant.
His hands are around mine on the table when a waitress comes over. She’s ogling my man and yet his gaze is fixed on me.
“Would you like the wine list?”
I gaze up and nod at the waitress while he maintains his smile in my direction. We couldn’t really care less. We giggle as she walks off in a huff, clearly a single girl sick of serving couples every night. Never getting a break. I want to tell her that a chance might just present itself one day, just like it did for me. Laurie appeared at the moment when I was least looking for him. He’s still staring at me with eyes swimming in lust when the waitress drops the wine menu on the table and unceremoniously leaves us to our sickening display of over-the-table gazing. I hum internally and want to make love with him again. He’s wonderful. His accent drives me crackers. It’s silken and smooth, not rough or coarse.
“Quick pizza and then get merry at yours?”
“Yes,” I say quickly, clasping my hands in excitement. “Yes.”
When the waitress returns, he gives her his attention and tells her, “Love, we’ll have the Bolognese pizza with a side of garlic ciabatta and a jug of ya water. Oh, but maybe…” he strokes his chin, “do ya have champagne? And do yas do it by the glass?”
She quivers all over when he looks into her eyes and she stumbles, “We don’t, err, do champagne by the glass… but we do have something akin, something fizzy, that do?”
He nods and winks and I think I see her insides drop from out of her. She swoons. When she scuttles off with our orders, he takes my hands back in his and I glance at his prominent Adam’s apple and the way his butto
ned-up shirt collar clings tight to his strong throat. He makes my insides dance the Flamenco. I could so easily fall for this man. Maybe I already am. Something about him has broken down the barriers I hold up and he’s gazing at me like I might be his wife one day. It is rubbing off. He only has eyes for me and he’s reassuring me that despite the fact that Waitress Girl would probably drop her knickers for him within seconds, he has no interest.
“What are we celebrating then?”
“We’re celebratin’ our first date. The first of many, I hope. Anyways, lass, just bein’ alive is good enough reason, ain’t it?”
I raise my eyebrows. I tell him with my stare that he’s everything I have ever dreamt of. Everything I’ve ever wanted or will ever want. I hope and allow myself a smidgen of faith. Perhaps I might finally have a man who will love me. I permit myself a small vision of the future and I hope and pray. I keep everything crossed. I hold my breath and I tell him, “I really like you, Laurie.”
I feel heat all over my face and neck. I look at my lap because I can’t wipe the sickening grin from my mouth. This is ridiculous. Get a hold of yourself, woman. He moves out of his chair and comes to my side of the table. His hand rests on the corner and he leans down. He holds his other hand at my cheek and he doesn’t smile or wink. He just ducks down and kisses me chastely on the mouth. He moves back to his side and I tell myself that is a definite sign. He feels just the same. I let myself soak up that feeling of happiness and I revel in it. I wrap it around my heart and tell myself it’s okay to accept good things might actually happen to good people. It’s entirely possible. Hell, it happened for Shrek and Fiona, didn’t it?
We spend the rest of the meal eating and staring, smiling and gazing. No words need convey our intent. We are bolting and heading for the nearest liquor store, then back to mine. Keane’s She Will Be Loved plays in the background and I take it as a definite sign.
Stuff the kilo bar of chocolate I keep hidden at the back of the cupboard and stuff crying into a box of tissues over another soppy chick flick.
He pays the bill despite me trying to go Dutch and we snigger at the jug of water left untouched and the glasses of fizz that lasted seconds. The plates are wiped clean to sate the hungry bellies that fasted while we had sex all day long.
We get outside the front window of the restaurant and he takes me in his arms. I want to run away and hide before he makes a hideous display of his lust for me. His arms wrap tightly around my back and grip onto my dress. I lock my hands around the nape of his neck and he tilts me back. I sense the solidity of his hips grinding into me and the heat and pulses of his chest against mine. He kisses me once, softly, and lifts me back to a vertical position. We hold each other in front of the window, just staring into each other’s eyes. He’s panting and so am I. He takes my breath away.
“Take me home,” I whisper in his ear.
We didn’t make it to the liquor store but we did make it into my bed rather quickly after skipping the half mile from the restaurant to here.
He’s above me now, rocking into me. Our eyes don’t leave the other’s. Neither of us seem to believe this is all happening. Something is surely going to come and take it all away?
He’s really holding me and I have nothing but his eyes to focus on. We’re tightly entwined and I feel heat and hardness protecting me. He leans down to kiss me and he takes me gently to begin with before increasing his pace. I hold his cheek and I sense a smile between his kisses. He deepens his kiss and I begin to judder and whelp on the ecstasy of that alone. He notices my delight and ups his game, pushing deep inside me. His breathing is at my ear as he thrusts faster. He’s so wonderful. I keep telling myself that and know how sickening this all seems. He’s a miracle. I am floating on a cloud.
He slides off me and covers my side still. He rests his cheek on my breasts and pants away his exhaustion. I hold his head in my arms and our long legs twine around the other’s. I stroke his hair and my fingers tell him he’s mine. He won’t leave me now, because I’ve got him and he’s not going anywhere.
“Jules, lovely Jules.”
I kiss his hand and we begin to fall asleep. I am ready to give in. I accept the happiness and I tell myself, This is it. Good things do happen to good people. They do. They have. I won’t ever turn back now.
I jolt awake from a very vivid dream… I turn my head to look at the clock and see it’s the middle of the night and Laurie’s still here with me. He’s not left. I close my eyes and try to remember my dream…
The sky was painted in a yellow haze of summertime heat. I was wearing my SJP dress and Laurie was pushing me on a swing. We were laughing and he was pushing me higher and higher. So high that I didn’t think I would stay on my seat. It felt like I would fall off if I went any higher. But he kept pushing me and I was flying. Weightless and free. In my mind, I knew I was dreaming. I told myself that, though it seemed so real. The physics were impossible but in that world, it seemed so existent. When I felt like I was soaring from my seat and into the brilliant hues of that unreal sky, I woke up with a jolt.
I’ve no doubt been sleeping so deeply, that is why I am now wide awake. Laurie is still laid across my breasts and he is snoring soundly. He’s dribbling on my chest but I honestly don’t care about that. I might have before but I don’t now. I wriggle to ease the strain of having been laid like this for some time. My arms are going dead. I shift and roll on my side and he rolls right around me. I feel his sleepy erection at my back and bite my lip.
His arms are around my body and clutching at me tight. He whispers, “Julianne.”
His voice is husky and thick and he kisses my hair before falling right back to sleep, breathing in steady deep breaths again before settling into a more relaxed rhythm.
I am encased in his warmth and strength and it makes me feel happier than I have ever known. I struggle to get back off to sleep and so my thoughts take me off elsewhere. When I told Laurie I was rusty, I wasn’t lying. I last had a boyfriend when I was twenty-one. He was my first. He was okay. Just a guy. A bloke I knew from university. He was fine. Nice and loving, but lacking in any amount of passion. When we got our degree results and he got a Third, that was it. Sayonara. I just realised what I had always known. He was happily scraping through life whereas I was trying desperately to run free. The comparison was then just too stark.
That was not only the summer I dumped him. It was also the summer I lost my father and best friend. It was graduation day and I was walking away with First Class honours in English. There was a big group of us celebrating in the pub. My dad was there. My friend Amy was too. She’d travelled from our hometown with my dad to see me get my certificate.
She and I had once been as thick as thieves, though we never shared a class. I was top set. The Swot. She was middle grade and proud of it. We somehow worked. She kept me sane and forced me into thrift stores to buy clothes. She trained at college and went on to sell designs to clothing chains for a living.
I remember being stood by the bar in my cap and gown, watching my father and Amy looking cosy. I brushed off any suspicions and rejoined my friends. I’d hesitated so many times over whether to invite Dad but some part of me wanted him to acknowledge what I had done, and all without any help from him.
I think his remark that day was, “Good on you Jules. I’ll buy you a pint when you get your first pay cheque.”
I’d had to move out of student digs so we were all going back to my hometown that night: Amy, Dad and I.
It was a good day. I felt a massive sense of achievement, though the course had been easy really. It was the rest that was hard ‒ avoiding questions about my past, having to work dozens of jobs to make ends meet and pretending that I belonged, when I really didn’t. I was not born of that world: academia.
But I had done what I really loved and I was going on to do what I really wanted to do… teach. I was signed up for GTP (on the job training) and raring to go within two months. I had eight weeks to relax and make the most of
the rest of my summer before real life set in. Forever.
So we three, that night, went back to the crummy little pebbledash house I grew up in. It lay a hop, skip, and a jump away, just on the other side of the river from this city. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t going to stay there. I was poised to get out… again. It was a gap between opportunities. I was shattered from the day’s excitement and I left my father and Amy to their own devices while I made my excuses and rushed upstairs to bed. I never gave a second thought to why she was hanging around for so long.
I was in my room trying to locate some nightwear. It wasn’t an easy task finding something to wear with all my in-between boxes still packed and stacked up to the ceilings. I didn’t think there was any point in unpacking, only to have to repack again in two months’ time. I was going back to the city I went to university in to train as a teacher, but I would be staying in a flat this time instead of a shared house. All grown up.
Tired of searching for something to wear, I decided I would go naked but before I did, I went to the bathroom to clean my teeth. I was leaving when I heard some scuffle downstairs. A lamp crashing.
I crept down in fear of what I might find. The sight I saw was one I would never wish on anyone. My father had his trousers down and I could see his bum humping up and down as Amy lay there pretending to enjoy herself. The betrayal was immense. She was the only thing he hadn’t sullied over the years.
I’d never see her the same way again.
They didn’t see me. They didn’t know I had seen them. The next day, I packed my car at dawn and left to go back to the city. I’d sleep in my car if I couldn’t find somewhere to stay but I ended up crashing on a friend’s floor for the summer while serving pints in a skanky old pub.
I never knew why Mum took her own life. I felt that night I saw him pounding my friend’s young body, there was probably some reason.
Angel Avenue Page 10
