At one point a stray football came bouncing down the close towards them, heading for Shelley’s Sweet Williams. Hunter had appeared oblivious, still sipping his wine and paying attention to what was being said to him. However, just before the flower bed was decimated he stuck out a foot, brought the ball under instant neat control, and smartly sent it back from whence it came. It didn’t skew off the side of his shoe or bounce horribly and weightily into someone else’s flower beds. It just went back to the waiting child with surprising accuracy for a man of his age and pointy footwear, and he went back to listening to the conversation without even a change of expression. It was rather a nifty bit of footwork, Nesta thought. It was unostentatious and laid back. It made it look like everything he did would be masterly, unfussy, and performed with innate precision.
If he liked his football he remained polite and made no attempt to break through the protective horseshoe of attentive females and head for the kitchen, where the match was playing on the little wall-hung TV. Most of the husbands had done this, seeking solace from the requirement for idle chit-chat. Most likely they had been hanging back waiting for Eva to show, but had finally lost patience. She finally deigned to join them shortly after, dressed in attention-grasping tight clothes. She insisted on offering Hunter her hand to be shaken, even though they had done this on the day he arrived. Perhaps she thought he would kiss it. She had already taken a bottle of beer, supplied primarily in case the guys had this preference. There was surely just a trace of annoyance in her eyes when she clocked Hunter’s wine glass and realised that the two of them weren’t quite as like-minded as she believed.
A noticeable change in atmosphere occurred after her arrival, as always. She was clearly trying to grab the limelight. It seemed she thought that now the two beautiful specimens were face to face, the rest should all melt away into their usual humdrum obscurity. A couple of the other girls tried gamely to fight their corner but Eva just upped the ante. She made the conversations more blatantly suggestive. She flashed wicked grins and hungry eyes. She went closer to him than any of them had dared, even though she could surely make a man hard at fifty paces. She touched his arm and prodded his chest at every given opportunity. Nesta not only felt some annoyance at the way the conversation had been so blatantly shanghaied, she also felt some jealousy too. She wasn’t sure why, since she had no designs upon him whatsoever. It was just the way that Eva, with her vampish looks and boldness of tongue, could make her feel so instantly ordinary and inferior. The saving grace was that Hunter was doing his best to remain polite to all and not get drawn in by the one.
Nesta felt for him again. Apart from Bethan the youngest, who was silently watching over her brood at the other end of the close, all the girls were now clustered around him. Hunter had become the hunted. He was cornered. Any attempt at extrication would look like an attempt to get him alone. Since Eva’s arrival the behaviour of the girls had become more boisterous and competitive. Nesta expected it from Maria and possibly from Shelley, but even the usually reticent Alicia had come out of her shell and was asking to be noticed. Only Roni kept her peace.
Nesta didn’t want to join in and get drawn into this ridiculous, alcohol-propelled popularity contest, but there was no way to bring some sense and decorum back without trying to take some control of the conversation. It irked her that every attempt to do so was quickly ridden over roughshod. Worse was the fact that, what with the connection she thought he and she had previously made, albeit a small one, he didn’t fight harder to keep the conversations she started alive. She was just one of a group now, and moving ever into the background. Just days ago he had given her a look that had buckled her knees, and now he was barely aware of her. Perhaps he had already given one of the others a taste of his unique powers, maybe even all of them. He looked for signs in their faces. All were flushed-cheeked and full of him.
The conversation switched to attributes, with Shelley informing Hunter how lucky they all were, since everyone in the close seemed to have a skill that could help the others. This was an old chestnut, often brought up when strangers visited. It sounded now almost like a plea for Hunter to stay, as if the afternoon might have given him second thoughts about living there. It was a conversation Nesta disliked because nothing she ever did was listed. Her husband got a mention, since he worked with computers and could explain how to use them, or sort them out when they crashed. Roni’s husband ran a furniture store, so he could wangle them all better discounts. Bethan’s husband was a big-mouthed, cock-sure twat, but he could put shelves up straight and help erect garden sheds. Maria was a fabulous cook and her husband was a plumber and had helped fix a couple of dodgy outside taps. It wasn’t mentioned that he would rip his own grandma off given half a chance - a trait that Maria always somewhat shame-facedly put down to the rather sweeping judgement that ‘all Neapolitans do it.’
‘Well if anyone needs their portrait done in an emergency,’ Hunter said to all this, ‘then look no further.’
Nesta had half-expected him to reveal a plethora of skills, so it was quite refreshing to hear him profess to general uselessness. However, the girls were making noises as if they thought his painting abilities a true boon and might indeed take him up on his offer. Idolisation was clearly setting in. Shelley’s husband came by at that point to grab another beer, almost escaping unnoticed before his wife spotted him and asked him to name his own main attribute. He had heard all this before and quite probably had his answer stored up for just such an occasion.
‘Well,’ he said as he breezed back past, his expression totally deadpan, ‘it’s probably my massive cock.’
He got a chiding slap on the shoulder from his wife as he headed back into the kitchen but it was given playfully. Roni choked on her wine and nearly snorted it out of her nose. There were other admonishments, some head shaking and gasps of mock surprise, although it might already have been obvious to their new neighbour that this kind of open crudeness was par for the course in this circle. Hunter, for his part, smiled and looked down at his shoes. Eva just laughed loudly, a short barking laugh of triumphant joy. Shelley, even more flushed than before, tried to paper over her husband’s rudeness, quickly asking Hunter to name his main attribute, presumably forgetting he had already named it as his artistic abilities. He looked a little taken aback by her question.
‘What, physically?’ he asked. Eva pounced on this.
‘Yeah, Hunter,’ she grinned mischievously, ‘have you also got a massive cock?’
There was more general gasping and what is she like-ing, but there was also a lot of expectant eyes trained on him, awaiting his answer. As embarrassing as this pregnant silence was, even Nesta couldn’t make herself intervene and drag him out of this corner. He did his eyebrows-raised expression again, which seemed to be his standard indication that things were not fazing him.
‘I’m sure,’ he said, not looking at any of them in particular, ‘that it is no bigger than you imagine.’
Nesta knew her little shiver might have been visible. She ousted the flashing image he had forced back to her mind and stood there in guilty silence. A quick glance around at the blushing faces and bitten lips told her that it wasn’t just her. Clearly all the girls there had spent at least a little time wondering what indeed lay inside his underwear. It was a bold answer but one that seemed to have won him that battle of wits. Eva, who stood in open-mouthed glee, running her tongue around her teeth as if weighing up a retort, even she remained quiet, perhaps struggling to free her mind of the thought of his perceived dimensions. She must have imagined his cock to be very big.
Such a clever answer, Nesta thought. It put them all on the back foot. Their guilt had been evident. It sounded like a humble comment, self-derogatory, but was in fact the opposite. It was a pure come-on, an invitation for them to imagine his manhood however they wanted and not find themselves disappointed when the time came. It was almost as if he were daring them to let
their imaginations run riot, and he would measure up to any expectations. He was effectively saying, I know you lot are a bunch of secretly dirty bitches but don’t worry, because I’m equal to anything your fantasies can create. Now Nesta was worried. The last embers of the already forlorn hopes that he might be gay died out. As decent and polite, as modest and reserved as he seemed, this comment was surely an open invitation for any of them to come and get him.
‘Well I never lie, for one thing,’ he continued, cutting through Nesta’s thoughts. ‘That might be my best attribute.’
This was a bold statement indeed - and not really in keeping with the examples of dexterity mentioned before. Maybe it was just said in humour, a dig at the host husband’s crude boast. It seemed more likely to have been slipped in to help boost the girl’s quickly forming idolatry.
‘So you will tell us the truth whatever we ask?’ Eva asked, no doubt relishing the potential for more risqué interrogation.
‘I might not answer, but if I do, I will do it honestly.’
‘Which one of us do you fancy most?’ Eva was quick with this. Nesta felt the dread mounting again. She stood to get caught up in another Biggest Flirt competition. Hunter remained impassive but did not shy away from the question.
‘That is easy,’ he said. ‘It will always be the person who wants me most.’
To Nesta’s mind it was another crafty answer. It sounded non-committal, a little like he was talking about some kind of Higher Love, but actually all he was doing was inviting them to give themselves up for him. Presumably the one who got him would be the one who put herself out there the most. Well, Nesta wasn’t going to be drawn in by such things, nor she imagined would most of the other girls, although to look at their doe-eyes now her assumption didn’t seem too accurate.
‘Why isn’t there a Mrs Hunter?’ Nesta said, before she had realised she was going to. It was a trigger response, an effort to get them away from the popularity contest Eva was trying to invoke. He took a while before answering. The humour left his eyes for the first time that afternoon.
‘There was,’ he said. ‘Many years ago I was married. In thirteen months almost to the day it was over. It was very brief and potentially very wonderful and should have lasted far, far longer. Sadly, it wasn’t to be.’
‘Did she catch you cheating on her?’ It was Eva again.
‘No. The one saving grace was that she wasn’t around long enough for me to let her down like that. She died from a brain tumour. You wouldn’t believe something so pernicious could grow inside of one so nice, but it did. It crept out of nowhere and finished her without warning - at least none she ever told me about. If she had any clue she never let me know, although I was serving overseas in the army at the time so perhaps she thought I had enough on my plate. Anyway, to marry again would make a triviality out of the life of the person who was the most important thing in mine, however short a time we had together.’
‘That is very sad,’ Nesta said, almost reaching out to touch his arm but drawing back at the last moment. She could hear the genuine pain of the memory in his voice. He raised his eyebrows and forced a brief that’s life! smile. There were quiet mutterings of condolence but no one knew how to follow his words and in the silence he had provoked he was almost obliged to continue.
‘I didn’t even know for two weeks,’ he said, his voice stronger now. ‘For a whole fortnight I was oblivious. We were on operations in a country we were not officially meant to be in. No one but us knew our position and it was inaccessible by air anyway, so they had to wait until it was over and we were back out. The thing that impacts most, the thing that I cannot shift, was that I never even sensed her passing. I know I was miles away and had other things on my mind, but how could someone so vital, who had defined my happiness and gave sense to everything, how could they die without me having even the tiniest inkling?
‘The conclusion I have drawn is that it was down to not concentrating on her when I should have been. I lost our connection when nothing else was more important. She might have felt something inside her was not right, something that might have scared her, but you can bet your life all she was thinking about was me. I should have known she needed me and been there for her. I allowed my love and respect for her to get deflected. I can’t bring her back but I at least I owe it to her never let that happen again. If that means never allowing myself to become emotionally attracted elsewhere, then so be it. I resolved very quickly afterwards to never fall in love again.’
It was a long and candid speech from a man who had been so previously reserved. His expression hadn’t changed much but the emotion was in there, behind the hardened exterior. It was enough to silence the girls. Well, all of them but one. ‘So you are celibate now then?’ Eva asked.
He sighed and looked a little weary of her probing, but still answered.
‘It would indeed be nice to honour her memory in this way. Unfortunately I have a certain drive which is hard to ignore. I guess it is the same one that had me making a living in the way that I did, and doing all those other ridiculous, life-threatening things I have done over the years. Since I have been back I have tried to tame certain elements of my nature, but some instincts are proving harder to cure.’
It was a rather flowery way of admitting that he compulsively fucked around, especially as he had already stated that love was not on the agenda, which meant shallow relationships or one night stands. However, Nesta still had enough sympathy for him after his marriage revelation not to condemn him immediately. ‘You said you “came back”,’ she said. ‘Do you mean from the army?’
‘No, I have been out of that for a long time. I had some issues after my wife died which led to me being made unfit for the particular duties of my regiment. If I wasn’t with them I didn’t want to be with anyone else, so they released me. That kind of life was all I knew so I ended up doing numerous private security jobs across Africa. I was out there for nearly ten years.’
‘I’m surprised they didn’t force you into a marriage with some tribal beauty,’ Eva said, still unashamedly fishing for details of his love life.
‘That would have been hard where I ended up.’
‘And where was that?’
‘Prison.’
There was a collective intake of breath. If this was some tall tale to get them all eating out of his hand then it was working just fine.
‘In prison!’ exclaimed Alicia, always the moral one. ‘What for?’
‘That is a long story.’
Nesta wanted to hear it but Eva was too quick. ‘You’re a criminal then?’ she said.
‘I have never been found guilty of any crime. Nor, with the exception of that one country, have I ever even been accused of any.’
Eva clearly wasn’t really listening. She was enjoying her chat with the handsome man with the mysterious past too much. Her eyes were bright, and she was chewing her lip trying to think of her next innuendo or come-on. She had her hands behind her back and she had her chest thrust out towards him. She couldn’t have been more obvious if she had served it up naked to him on a large oval porcelain platter.
‘The thing is, Mr Private Security Man,’ she said, with that saucy grin all over her face, ‘what with you being such an insatiable, naughty boy, how are any of us girls going to know we are safe from you and your wicked ways?’
He held her gaze for a few long moments before answering, a slight frown on his face, certainly no evidence of a smile.
‘Well,’ he replied at last, ‘I never said that you would be.’
The Aftermath
Hungry whining children dictated the end of the gathering. The women collected their men-folk and offspring and headed their separate ways to concentrate on what to make for tea. All of them were buoyed and still buzzing from the afternoon. All would go about their evening on autopilot, reliving some of the conversations: the
bits that made him laugh, the snippets of information they had garnered. They would privately chide themselves from joining in with the almost adolescent giggling and the now embarrassing efforts to draw his attention their way. When the lights were off they would fight sleep just for a while, just to give themselves a little longer to think about him, about how it might have been if they had been alone with him.
It started for Maria even as she was heading back towards Number Two. It had been evident throughout the afternoon, but only as a kind of warm, pleasant glow. One step towards her house and it became more of an itch. Each step forward saw the insistency rise. The sudden urgency belied the fact that she hadn’t wanted the party to break up at all. Her husband was forever suspiciously watching over her every move so to have him elsewhere on that day of all days was a very happy coincidence indeed. Sadly his absence still didn’t allow her the chance to do what she now rather overwhelmingly needed to do.
In her head was a very vivid image of Hunter. It was buoyed by that pulse-quickening hint he had given that he was coming to get them. The picture was so clear it could have been on a screen in front of her. He was looking straight into her eyes, his expression sterner, more intense than it had actually been at any time that afternoon. His lips weren’t moving but she could hear his voice in her head, these imagined tones more serious and commanding than the quiet, polite manner in which he had addressed them all that day.
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