Half way home, Quinn, who’d been almost continually fingering my bare thigh and attempting to work his way closer to the underwear free area, leaned over and said, “Pull over somewhere, Eve.”
I thought about refusing and telling him to piss off, but I didn’t want an argument while driving Nish’s precious car. I pulled into a lay-by and switched off the engine and stared straight ahead. Quinn pulled me towards him and started kissing me. He did it gently though, and sexily, running his hands up and down my back. I relaxed and let him and gradually began to reciprocate until his hand worked its way up my upper thigh and tried to make it to ground zero. I didn’t think, I just slapped him really hard. And then I sat glaring at him, breathing heavily. God, this was like being a teenager again, getting groped in someone’s vehicle! I waited confrontationally but nothing happened. He pulled away and leant against the passenger window, in complete silence, his head turned away. I waited a long moment, then started up the engine again and drove us back to Wantage. Not a word was said. He never even looked at me. Kept his gaze studiously fixed out the side window, forehead resting on the glass. I drew us up outside Nish’s flat. The van wasn’t there yet. I left the keys in the ignition, got out without a word and started walking up the street. On the corner I pulled out my phone and rang for a taxi while carrying on walking. At past two in the morning the roads were deserted so there was no-one to see me.
I was woken up next morning by someone putting their finger on the bell and leaving it there. I glanced at my phone, my eyes bleary. It felt like six am, but actually it turned out to be a quarter past ten, so I’d actually had about seven hours sleep. Boy did I have a headache though. Didn’t drink much alcohol last night but then I didn’t drink much of anything else either, so I was probably dehydrated. It was obviously Quinn, and he obviously wasn’t going away. The bell started up again in another long aggressive peal. I sighed, yawned, wiped at my eyes and went to open it.
Quinn had been leaning on the door and almost fell in on top of me. He was in ordinary jeans, a tee-shirt and one of those fair trade type hooded smocks in pastel greys and blues. The cornrow plaits and designer stubble were obviously here to stay for a bit, plus the bun thing. Actually it kinda suited him. He looked quite exotic. Head-turningly striking in fact.
“God, Quinn, it’s the bloody crack of dawn,” I complained inaccurately, wandering back over to the kettle.
He followed me over and slammed his hands down on the kitchen surface in an out of control way. I glanced warily at him.
“You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?” He yelled at me.
I raised my eyebrows. “Who?” But I could guess where this was going.
“Fucking Gilbraith!” He threw at me. “You lied to me! You said you hadn’t!”
I frowned. “I don’t think we’ve ever discussed it, have we? You warned him off and asked me if he was behaving himself, and he was. But that was eighteen months ago.”
Quinn was still wound up like a coiled spring. “You’ve both denied over and over again in the press that you were in any sort of relationship!”
I shrugged. “We’re not allowed to be in a relationship if we’re working together. So we’re not. Nothing at all since his first race of the season.”
He stared at me, his face all screwed up. “Right, so you have fucked him?”
“You haven’t been around for at least a year Quinn. And he has. So yes, I’ve fucked him. His testosterone levels were ramping up and needed an outlet and I figured my cunt hadn’t been much use to anyone for so long, I might as well use it to calm him down.”
Quinn just started yelling and punching the wall. Finally he stopped, seeming not to notice that his knuckles were now all covered in blood. “How can you talk about yourself in this way?” He shouted at me. “How can you demean yourself like that? Why don’t you respect yourself?”
I stared at him. “Right – and how many convenient shags have you had in the last year? Was that demeaning yourself? And how about all those girls you’ve just used for one night? Was that respecting them? Remember how you treated Daisy, the poor cow? You were a complete bastard, messing her about for bloody ages and then presumably you shat on her big time when she started trying to make it permanent!” I turned away from him and reached to put the kettle back on as I’d missed the boiling point to pour into my cup.
He grabbed my shoulder and swung me back round. “So how many other ‘convenient shags’ have you supplied that I don’t know about?”
I slapped his hand away. “You’re such a bloody hypocrite, Quinn! I’ve slept with three guys in the whole of my life and by your own admission you sleep with three girls a week. How is that possibly ok? It isn’t! And it doesn’t make it ok just because you’re a bloke! All those girls you sleep with are just ‘me’s you know! Just girls like me with brothers and fathers and friends who want the best for them. Why is it ok for them to sleep with you, but not for me to sleep with someone else?” I was breathing heavily with the anger of it.
“Is this what it’s all about?” He demanded, an intense look in his eyes.
“What all what’s about?” I frowned.
“You not allowing me to touch you?” He calmed down slightly. “You’re upset about all the others?”
I was silent.
“Does it make you feel dirty? That you’re one of a long parade?”
I thought about it. “Maybe…” I said cautiously.
“You think I’m going to ditch you straight after, don’t you?” He ascertained. “That I won’t be able to keep it in my trousers and will be off again as soon as I’m bored?”
“Yes,” I said. I lowered my eyes. “I can’t go through it all again, Quinn.”
He suddenly grabbed my face between his hands and looked intensely into my eyes. “I love you, you idiot. I don’t know how to get that into your thick skull. I really do!” His grip tightened. “But you don’t seem to love me. You don’t seem to even find me attractive…” He let go, his tone distressed.
Even now I found I couldn’t throw myself into his arms and reassure him. I wiped some sudden tears away.
“Ok – let’s get one sordid point out of the way,” he said abruptly. “I get it. It’s only fair. I’ll go to a clinic and get tested for absolutely everything, even AIDS. Ok? And if I need treatment for something then I’ll have it, and once you know I’m completely clear, then you’ll feel a bit better, won’t you? And I won’t sleep with anyone else, I promise, ok?”
I stared at him. I wasn’t sure he ‘got it’ at all. But the practical approach he was taking was –well – practical, I guess. It would be one less thing to feel icky and suspicious about. It was his way of declaring that we’d be starting from scratch. Resetting the clock. Drawing a line under the past.
“Ok,” I said. I turned back and put the kettle on for a third time. “Coffee?” I offered.
He relaxed. “Ta.” He leant back against the kitchen surface and watched me moving around. Not sure how I looked mind, I hadn’t brushed my hair and I was just in a stretched old outsize tee-shirt that barely covered my bum.
“You going home for Christmas?” I asked.
He hesitated.
“They need you, Quinn,” I said, glancing at him.
“Are you?” He asked.
I nodded.
“Then I will too,” he said, looking happier.
“I was thinking,” I said, when we sat down with the coffee. “Pauline must be really fed up of doing Christmas for us all with us all looking like we’re having our teeth pulled and escaping as soon as possible. She’s under so much pressure these days looking after Ethan, let’s us do Christmas for them all this year.”
Quinn looked a bit daunted.
“Listen – don’t worry – I’ll do the cooking. You can be the party planner. You be in charge of fun and games. The little ones are just the right age now – old enough to join in properly and enjoy it, but not old enough to sulk and say it’s silly, and the rest of u
s are old enough now just to sacrifice ourselves to the cause for a few hours, aren’t we?
“Jamie?” Quinn threw a spanner in the works. “Mr. Party Pooper extraordinaire?”
“We give him a defined role,” I suggested. I frowned. “In charge of the music? Play the music for the Pass the Parcel and musical chairs?”
Quinn winced slightly. “You might get something a bit esoteric…”
“Doesn’t matter, does it? At least he’ll have to stay in the room…”
Quinn grinned. “I think I might just be willing to pay to see that!”
“Just make sure all the games involve music,” I advised.
He reached out and gave me a hug.
“I need a shower now,” I said. “Best you go now. And I’ll see you at Christmas.”
He looked a bit bereft and mournful at the implication of that remark.
“It’s less than four weeks,” I pointed out. “You can ring me, you know.”
“Ok.” He sighed and stood up. At the door he turned back. “How about a holiday after? Somewhere hot?”
Hugh had already made noises about the fact I needed to take the holidays owed to me before the near run up to the next season.
“Ok,” I said cautiously. “That might be nice… Or skiing maybe?”
He grimaced. “Never again! And certainly never with you!”
I pulled a face at him.
“I know!” He exclaimed triumphantly. “We never got that climbing trip, did we? How about some hot rock sport climbing? We just need to invest in a single rope and rope bag and about fifteen karabiners and we’re in business!”
“And you need a harness and chalk bag and belay plate,” I pointed out. I already had those.
“Yep,” Quinn was brightening up no end. “I’ll sort it, shall I?”
I smiled at him, suddenly happy. “Yes, you do that,” I agreed.
When he left, swooping on me with a swift kiss, we were both smiling for once.
The doorbell went again about midday. By that time I was human again, and the bell rang very politely. I opened it. As I’d expected. Nish. He had his running gear on.
“Thank God for that!” I exclaimed. “Someone sane for once!”
“As opposed to?” He finished the sentence himself. “Quinn, I suppose?” He stepped inside. “Run?”
“Yeah, great!” I enthused and rushed into the bedroom to get changed.
“I just had to get out,” He told me through the half open door. “There’s bodies everywhere!”
“Are they showing any signs of leaving?” I called back.
“Not really – some of them are still comatose. Can I use your shower when we get back?”
“Course! And there’s a settee here too for the night if you get really desperate…” I suggested with a laugh. “You’d better hope the landlord doesn’t drop in back at your place though, you know what they’re like!”
“The landlord already knows about it,” he retorted, “and the landlord has already been driven out in desperation to your place…”
I stuck my head out. “Do you own it then? I thought you rented it…”
He had his back turned, thoughtfully turning the pages of an engineering book I’d left out on the side. I was glad he hadn’t caught sight of the expression that must have at least momentarily flitted across my face at that revelation. God, he and Sappho really did live on a different planet, didn’t they? I came out and sat on the settee to lace up my running shoes.
“So what the hell happened with Quinn?” Nish queried turning round to face me. “We arrived home in the van last night to find him sitting in the car with a red hand print indelibly branded onto his cheek. And Jamie took one look at him and said Christ and stormed into the flat. And Kes laughed and told him he probably deserved it…”
“Yeah, he would,” I commented back. “He’s known Quinn as long as I have…”
“…And then I was woken up at bloody nine-thirty by Quinn who ended up crying his heart out on my bed asking what more could he do to convince you…”
“Oh, for goodness sake! I said impatiently, looking up from my laces. “That sounds just like Quinn and his poor me pity party! If he thinks abandoning me at a couple of parties, taking me for a single pub meal, sending me a couple of baskets of dead flowers, and deliberately skinny dipping in front of me to show off the wares that I’m all too well aware of already given I’ve lived next door since we were four and he loves stripping his kit off at every opportunity, then trying to get his hand up my skirt last night is the full extent of what he can do, then he’s more dumb than even I took him for!” I stood up.
Nish pulled a face. “Ok, I admit that litany of crass behaviour doesn’t seem that promising… But then he just suddenly stared at me, went white, leapt up and ran out! And then an hour ago he returned with his right hand covered in blood and all swollen up like a melon! And then Jamie went ballistic and shouted, “First of all she drives my lead singer distracted and now she slams his hand in a door and cripples him just when we need him to play guitar!” And Quinn just wouldn’t say anything about what had gone on. And now Kes has taken him off to A and E in case it’s broken, because it doesn’t look that great…”
“Oh dear,” I said. “But don’t look at me. I didn’t do nothin’ to him! You idiotically went and told him I’d slept with you and then he came bursting in here shouting at me and repeatedly punching the wall – so don’t blame me! I never laid a finger on him, it’s his own stupid fault!”
Nish stared at me, looking worried. “I never told him a thing! Honestly, Eve!”
I shrugged. “Come on, let’s go out for this jog. We can talk on the way round.”
We tried to unpick what had happened as we drove up to the downs.
“Ok, so what exactly did you say?” I demanded.
Nish seemed completely perplexed. “He was trying to work out why you just freeze when he comes anywhere near you, and he turned to me and said, ‘maybe she’s shy about her body?’”
“And what did you say?” I frowned.
“Well, I just laughed. I couldn’t help it…” He admitted. “And then I said, ‘really?’ in a bit of a disbelieving tone.” His brow creased. “And that’s when he just stared fixedly at me and ran out…”
I sighed. “Honestly, Nish! He may seem like a complete dolly bird at times, but he’s sharp as a knife about some things. And sex is definitely one of them. He just looked at you and knew. When you laughed you gave it away…”
He bit his lip and looked sideways at me. “God, sorry, Eve. Sounds like I was lucky he only punched a wall and not me!”
“He’s not much of a fighter,” I reassured him. “But I have seen him go for someone, so watch yourself…” I warned.
We pulled up at the high car park on top of the Downs and got out. It was a bit raw, but I knew we’d get really hot by ten minutes into the run, so it was best to just get going. We set off at a fast pace, our breath condensing ahead of us.
“So what is it, Eve?” Nish asked, keeping pace beside me. “What’s the problem? Why can’t you let him touch you?”
“Honestly I don’t know, Nish.”
Silence fell again, broken only by the thudding of our feet and our steady breathing.
“I hate the way he keeps bringing everything back to sex, just like he used to when we were sixteen! And he keeps doing this needy thing – fishing around like an insecure thirteen year old for compliments about how he looks. And then he compliments me on how I look instead of caring about what’s going on in my head and then he can’t understand why I get annoyed, and complains that he can’t please me! But what I really need him to do is show me that he sees me, the real inside me. And I need him to stay constant…” I fell quiet, allowing my breathing to have a chance to get back into rhythm again as I freed my mind to roam over the subject. Pete and Tyler. Both had been steady as a rock. Quinn’s personality was like quicksilver beside them.
“I just can’t seem to l
et myself trust him,” I admitted in one sudden, brutally honest sentence, “he’s let me down so often, I’ve armoured myself in cold steel and forgotten where I threw away the key.”
Nish gave a quick sideways look, and emitted a slight laugh. “That’s a bit of a mixed metaphor, Eve, if you don’t mind me saying, unless we’re talking chastity belts?”
“Oh, shut up, you!” I tossed in his direction, without rancour.
We slowed it down a notch as we headed up the steep incline. We knew this route so well, that we paced it expertly, our strides matching perfectly.
“I’m certain he’s genuine, Eve,” Nish remarked suddenly. “He loves you to bits. He adores you. He’s flailing around in a mess of insecurities because he’s so scared you don’t feel the same way.”
I glanced swiftly at him.
His dark eyes met mine with a laugh in them. “He watches you all the time, whenever you’re not looking, with a smile in his eyes. And every time you speak he looks like his whole future depends on every word. Like rubies and diamonds and pearls might fall from your lips.”
I looked quickly ahead at the path, using the excuse of having to swerve around a chalky rock outcrop to break his gaze.
“And instead, when you open your mouth it’s only to verbally slap him,” Nish said reproachfully. “The reason he’s so inconstant and flippant is because he’s defending himself from the inevitable rejection…he can’t bear the pain of hoping…”
My heart was thudding now, much harder and faster than the currently level track would normally engender.
“You looked stunning last night by the way,” Nish changed tack suddenly as though he’d realised that I couldn’t cope with any more emotive stuff and needed time to process. “You ought to get togged up more often!”
I was touched by his attempt to reassure me about last night and relieved to be let off the hook of having to answer his previous couple of remarks. My heart rate began to steady down again. “Yeah, well, remind me not to go shopping with Sappho again,” I retorted dryly. “I’ll be living on lentils till the end of the month now…”
The Way Back (Not Quite Eden Book 6) Page 43
