by Dale, Lindy
Then, as if by some mystical force, James, naked from the waist down, except for his socks, was thrown against bedroom wall like a puppet. His head wobbled as Luke, seething with fury, pummelled his face. Blood spurted from his nose as he took a swing at Luke and missed. It was pointless. Luke’s reach was longer than his. He could not fight back. ‘Let’s see how you like it when the shoe’s on the other foot!’ Luke growled, his fists pounding repeatedly into James’s stomach. ‘Not so much fun now, is it?’
James held up his hands to protect himself. ‘Stop! Stop!’ he squealed. ‘I only wanted her to love me…. I wouldn’t have done anything.’
‘Like hell, you wouldn’t have…..’ Luke replied, stepping back and motioning to the door. ‘Get the hell out and if you ever set foot within twenty metres of Flora again or speak to her or send her presents, I’ll report you to the police and the Education Department.’
Happy to get off so lightly, James scurried away, closing the front door so swiftly, Flora didn’t even hear it shut. Shaken and confused, she frowned at the spot where he had been. Dazed she only realised Luke had come. He had saved her.
Stripping the doona from the bed and wrapping it around her, Luke cradled her in his arms. Her face was ashen, her body shuddering with shock. Luke squeezed her tighter, trying to soak up the pain from her body, wanting to absorb her agony and replace it with love. He didn’t know what else he could do.
‘I’m cold,’ she whispered to the air in the room.
‘It’s alright baby, you’re in shock, that’s all. I’m here. I won’t leave you.’ Tenderly, he placed his lips on the top of her head, rocking her in the circle of his embrace.
Flora smiled limply up into his eyes. They were full of compassion and love. If only he meant it.
****
The night dragged on. Too afraid to sleep, Flora had lain with the lamp on and the curtains firmly closed after Luke had gone home. She was never opening them again. ‘Let me call the Police,’ he had pleaded, sitting with her as she drank the scalding tea he’d made. It didn’t burn. She couldn’t feel a thing. She was without feeling, her body an empty chasm.
‘No. I won’t give him the satisfaction of having my attention, that’s what he wants; my undivided attention.’
Luke was worried by Flora’s reaction. James had always struck him as self-centred and somewhat left field. To ignore him as if the situation had never happened would only be a catalyst for him to continue the torture. Conversations with James may have appeared normal but, to Luke, it was apparent James had always been digging for something, reaching for some hidden agenda. He was far from sensible. He couldn’t be ignored.
‘At least take the last couple of days off. There’s no need for anyone else to know why. We’ll keep it to ourselves. How about that?’
In the end, Flora agreed. She wasn’t one for sick days but she had to regroup. Taking a few days was the only way she could sort through the things that were going on in her head.
****
By eight a.m. the next morning, Flora was up, had had breakfast, changed her phone numbers, done a load of washing and weeded the garden bed in the courtyard. She knew what she was doing. It was commonly known as avoidance. Louise did it all the time, especially when it came time for term planning. At times like that, shopping became her greatest avoidance tactic and the whisper of a new outfit the greatest temptation of all. No wonder she had a credit problem. She was the great procrastinator.
Drained of tears, and glasses back in their rightful place of security on her nose, Flora sat on the sofa cuddling a cushion. She should never have taken them off. Her glasses were the only protection she had. Without them, she gave off some sort of ‘take me …I’m yours’ vibe. That was why James had lusted after her. Likewise, the new dresses she’d paraded around the campus in. If she hadn’t gone around looking like she was gagging for it and trying to make herself beautiful for Luke, James would never have noticed her. If only she’d stuck to her routine. Being a plain Jane had its advantages. It had made her invisible to the likes of James.
The phone rang. Reaching over, she checked the caller ID. It was Luke. Exhaling heavily, Flora let the call go to message bank. How could she talk to him? How could she ever look at him again? This was his fault, of course. Everything had been fine until he’d arrived and seduced her with his eyes and his smile. Foolishly, she had fallen for his strong arms; forgoing everything she knew was right. And now she was being punished. Hugging the pillow tighter, she rested her chin upon the top. Yes, it was all his fault. And it was her fault that she had let it be his fault. In the past, she had been responsible. A quick dip into the pool of desire, where midnight swims were the norm and look at the result. Just look!
But this train of thought was solving nothing. Going to the bedroom and donning her exercise gear and dark glasses, Flora tied her laces and headed out for a walk. It was one thirty in the afternoon. She was safe at that time, surely. James would be at school. Still, she made sure the security alarm was enabled and the wrought iron gates firmly closed before she set off up the road. It could be that he had taken a day off, too, and was sitting at the window, licking his wounds. Breaking into a brisk jog, that was almost a sprint, she ran past the block of flats she now knew to be his. You couldn’t be too sure.
Anxiously, Flora pounded along the footpath, sucking in deep cleansing breaths as she went. What to do? What to do? One thing was for certain. She had to do something, anything to obtain closure. Thinking in circles was not proving at all fruitful. Maybe she should put her beloved house up for sale, look for a new job? Any distance she could put between herself and James, the stalker, could only be a good thing and it would be a good excuse to take that trip she had been planning. She had plenty of savings. Chest heaving, she stopped at the corner and bent double. No. That would be running away. Flora may have been shy and uncertain but weak was something she was not. She would not run away. She had to face him, to show him his pathetic attempts had had little impact on her. If she ran, nothing would ever change. James would find her, she was certain. He would never let her be.
****
Louise and PJ arrived a couple of hours later. Cheerily assuming that Flora had come down with some dreaded plague, they bore all manner of remedies to help her get through the last days of the term – copies of Marie Claire and Vogue, a pot of PJ’s grandmother’s famous chicken soup, Tim Tams and foot massage creams. It was the way the girls’ always behaved when one of them was poorly. They rallied to the cause.
‘You don’t need to worry about a thing,’ Louise chirruped as she buzzed around the house making cups of green tea and cracking open a packet of biscuits. ‘Everything is done, the relief teacher has even filed your last assessment pieces into the children’s portfolios for you,’ she continued, thinking this would cheer Flora up. She knew how Flora liked to be organised. Tray laden, she carried the afternoon tea into lounge and placed it on the coffee table in front of her friend.
‘Here,’ she handed Flora a cup and proffered the plate of Tim Tams. ‘Have a bickie, you look ghastly.’
Flora waved them away. Ghastly wasn’t the word she would have chosen, having seen the pallor of her cheeks in the bathroom mirror earlier, but it described her mood. Grey. Bleak. Ghastly.
Flora focused on Louise’s face, trying to concentrate. It was useless. All she could see was James, poised to strike above her. All she could hear, as Louise ran her tongue over the corner of her mouth retrieving a stray crumb, was the smacking sound his lips made as he licked them, eager to taste hers. The very thought made her feel ill.
‘Flora…. Flora?’
Flora felt PJ’s hand, soft and reassuring, resting on hers. Silently, she took Flora’s untouched cup and placed a bowl of soup in Flora’s hand, giving her a spoon. ‘Have some of Granny’s soup. You know you love it.’
Flora gazed listlessly into the bowl but did not eat. ‘Huh?’
PJ frowned. Something was not right. Flora adored her Gra
ndmother’s soup. It was as certain as the fact that her book collection was always arranged in alphabetical order. ‘God, will you pull yourself together girl! What is wrong with you? This isn’t just a summer cold from that bloody air conditioning, is it?’
Flora stared blankly at her. ‘What?’
‘Luke said you had a nasty flu from the evaporative air conditioning; that you’d rung in sick. He told us to stay away, that you were contagious,’ Louise said, bustling over them, fluffing pillows and doonas. ‘He has no idea how women work.’
‘I’ll bet he’s never had a girlfriend for any length…. guy of his age should be married, you know,’ PJ added.
‘Give him a break, will you,’ she said, wiping a sudden tear from her eye. It was the first genuine reaction they’d had from her since they’d arrived.
‘What’s wrong? Why are you crying?’
‘I don’t feel the best, that’s all.’
‘Oh, as if! A brain dead moron could see you’re not sick.’ Even though she didn’t sound it, PJ was concerned. She’d had enough heartbreak to know Flora’s ailment wasn’t stomach related. ‘Come on, out with it…. Did that excuse-for-a-man, James, dump you? He’s such wanker; I don’t know what ever possessed you to go out with him.’
Flora wondered that too. The old ‘seemed like a good idea at the time’ thing was resounding in her ears. ‘He didn’t dump me,’ she whispered, her lip wobbling some more. ‘I’d be happy if that was all it was.’
‘Well, what is it then?’
‘Is it Luke?’ Louise asked, sucking in a breath at her error.
PJ’s ears pricked up. ‘What about Luke? He’s not giving you a hard time over the Barracuda, is he? If he is, I’ll be having words with him to-bloody-morrow. He thinks he can just swan in here and take over….. Well, I’ve got news for him.’
Flora smiled a little and wiped the back of her palm across her cheek. PJ’s defence of her was admirable but unwarranted. Then she noticed Louise, staring at her. ‘You have to tell her.’
‘Tell me what? Honestly, you two, I go shopping and the next thing I’m out of the loop. It’s bloody appalling, that’s what it is,’ she cried and picked up Flora’s soup bowl from the table. ‘Listen, are you going to eat this? I’m ravenous. This bloody diet is doing my head in.’
Flora watched her eating. She supposed she should tell them everything: Luke, James, the whole shemozzle. If nothing else she would feel better for it.
****
‘Oh. My. God.’ PJ’s face was an odd shade of puce. Her hand was covering her mouth, then moving, then covering it again. ‘You’ve been shagging Luke? I can’t believe it. How long has this been going on?’
Flora blushed. ‘Six weeks, three days and twenty six minutes.’
‘Christ. Right down to the last second. He must be good. Is he good?’
Flora reddened more.
‘I don’t think Luke’s prowess in the bedroom is our business, Peej,’ Louise said.
‘Like hell it’s not. I tell you two everything, now it’s your turn to share.’
Flora laughed. It felt good, like the weight was lifting. ‘But I didn’t ask to have the gory details of Dylan’s penis size sent to me as an MMS,’ she replied. ‘And I’ve no intention of sharing any of my intimate details with you. Suffice to say, he is more than adequate in the bedroom department.’
PJ’s hand flew up in a stop signal. ‘God, I take it back, I don’t want to know; the mere thought of you and Luke naked will give me night terrors.’
Louise seemed confused. ‘Why did you go out with James?’
‘It was Luke’s idea. People were getting suspicious.’
‘But, when it all boils down, what did it matter if you were doing Luke? I mean, he is only here for a term and he’s single.’
‘He’s engaged. When he gets back home, he’s getting married.’
‘Bloody hell.’ PJ’s said. ‘So you’re the other woman? God, he must be good in the sack to make you give it up for a married guy…. I never thought you’d be the type.’
‘There’s more than that, though.’ The girls were silent. ‘James has been stalking me; he was the one stealing my knickers and sending me notes and stuff. I’m positive he got into your flat, too.’
‘I told you he was a bloody degenerate. Call the Police.’
Chapter 26
The school year was over. Convinced, at last, that she should call the Police, Flora had bitten the bullet. It hadn’t been a case of being scared. All that mattered to her was Luke and how her revelations would affect him.
‘I don’t care, Flora,’ he’d reassured her, ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. For all the school knows I could have been coming to take you for a night out with friends. There’s not a scrap of evidence that we were together.’
Realising the truth of his words Flora had acquiesced. It was their word against James’s and he had tried to rape her.
It was days before the interviews were over, the bruises on her arms photographed and pieces of the puzzle put together but it seemed that James had been obsessed with Flora for a lot longer than even she had realised. During a search of his apartment – where indeed a semi-shrine in her honour had been erected – the Police had found a photograph album containing pictures of her, both at school and home. Cleverly, James had photo-shopped their bodies into the same scenes, creating a whole fictitious life together. There were also stacks of ‘letters’ he had written to Flora in the year previous, each one declaring his love and dreams of the day when she would consent to marry him. In his mind, their love was real.
The stealing, according to the Police, had been incidental. James had convinced himself that Flora had given him the items as mementoes of their nights together.
‘But what about now?’ she asked. ‘What if he comes back?’
‘We don’t believe he will, Miss Owens,’ the detective replied. ‘Besides, there’s every chance he could get a stretch in prison for the assault. He would never have made his attraction known had he not felt threatened by Mr McDermott’s appearance in your life. He was merely fighting for what he considered to be his.’
Flora didn’t like the idea that James considered her his property. What would happen next time? Everyone knew restraining orders were useless.
Sitting on the sofa next to Luke, she listened to their advice, then dismissed it. She was going to take matters into her own hands. By the time James Bright came back she intended to be well and truly gone. She just didn’t know where.
****
Flora woke up on the morning of Luke’s departure surrounded by a feeling of extreme loss that she couldn’t fathom. She had known all along that the day was coming; in fact, its arrival had been postponed twice already. The Police had seen to that. They had wanted Luke for more questions. But now he was free to leave. Free to go back to his life and his wife. Free to file her in the recesses of his memory as a quaint diversion.
Determined to make the best of it, Flora had dressed in her prettiest dress, Luke’s favourite, a white one with the large silk flower at the breast. She had slipped her feet into a pair of silver sandals and let her hang loose down her back. Then, with a deep breath of resignation she put on a smile and knocked at his door.
The hallway was lined with suitcases. His laptop sat in its case waiting to be zipped up. His hair was at it’s sooty finest and his t-shirt freshly laundered. He was ready to go home.
‘Hi,’ he whispered, ‘you look beautiful.’
Flora walked into the flat, surveying the feeling of emptiness that sat in every corner. Grief was seeping from the walls and into her heart. ‘How long do we have?’
She knew it sounded trite, unfeeling, but she didn’t care. Luke was leaving. Didn’t she have a right to make him suffer a little? How else would he ever know the depth of her sadness?
He walked over to where she stood on the rug. ‘The taxi’s coming at 2.30. That gives us about four hours.’ He looked down into her eyes, his own were shadowed with
sorrow but underneath she saw the lingering hunger. The need. ‘And I don’t think we should waste another minute.’
Before she knew what was happening, Luke lifted her against him so that her feet were no longer touching the floor. His arms wound around her until she could feel his hot breath and his lips pressing down on hers. Wrapping her legs around his hips, Flora clung to him as he propelled her until her back was against the wall, his body squashing her, his mouth demanding a response.
Peeling the straps of her dress off her shoulders to reveal her breasts, he leant his face into them. ‘Luke,’ she whimpered, as his lips nibbled into her skin. ‘Please don’t leave me, please.’
His reply was fast. ‘Don’t ask for something, I can’t give. You’ve known from the start it would never happen.’ His mouth found her nipple and she arched.
‘But…’
‘No.’ His hands crept down to unzip her dress and his lips bit into her shoulder as he lowered her to let it fall. ‘All we have left is now.’
They were on the floor. Her body trapped beneath his, Flora could feel his hips pushing against her. She could feel the urgency in him, the desire to have her one last time. She wanted him to have her, forever. If only things were different.
‘Oh Flora,’ he whispered. ‘If only.’
Even through their sadness it seemed her could read her mind. If only what? If only he were single? If only he had the guts to stand up and say he didn’t want to go through with the wedding? If only his sense of loyalty weren’t so strong.
‘Luke, Luke,’ she cried, wetting his chest with her tears. ‘Why, why?’
****
At the curb, the driver was loading Luke’s bags into the taxi. Forlorn and lost, Flora stood by, unable and wanting. Her eyes red and swollen from crying, she tried to hold it together. She had to be strong.
‘Guess this is it,’ Luke said, taking her face in his hands. ‘I’ll never forget you, my beautiful Flower. Please be happy. Meet a nice guy and have lots of babies, and remember that, for one moment in time, we had it.’
