Straight After the Bend

by S M Mala

  ‘No roast potatoes?’ asked Bea, not wanting to sound surprised.

  ‘She’s American. I have dual nationality, hence I can work in the States.’ Mylo sipped his wine. ‘And that was a good thing when I moved out there.’

  Knowing she wanted to ask, Bea bit her lip and held back, trying not to frown.

  ‘I don’t talk about it because it was a confusing time in my life,’ he blurted out. ‘It’s not that I’m avoiding explaining my actions. I’m still not sure what happened and why.’ Mylo looked at her. ‘Sometimes you can’t pigeon hole these things. You get drawn in and things don’t make sense.’

  ‘Are you still in love with your ex? Is that why you don’t want to talk about it?’ Her heart was beating fast because the surge of jealousy through her chest even took placid Bea by surprise. ‘I will never push you. Not if you don’t want to say.’

  ‘I’m not in love with my ex,’ he said, thinking hard. ‘I was in awe and that’s a big difference.’ He bit his lip. ‘It was challenging for a few family members and friends. They didn’t understand and I really didn’t know how to clarify. It was hard.’ Clearing his throat he then smiled. ‘My mother wasn’t impressed but on the other hand, she’s into spirituality, thinking I had lost my path.’

  ‘Had you?’

  ‘I took a different route.’

  Bea realised that was as much as he was going to say.

  It was her turn.

  ‘It was only a matter of weeks for my mother to die after her diagnosis.’ Bea looked at her wine glass. ‘It was too much to take on board and then realise I’d been watching her die without being told. Mummy didn’t want me to know.’ Taking a deep breath, she looked at him. ‘She knew she was ill and ignored it, hoping it would go away. It didn’t. It spread through her body and then she was gone.’

  Mylo reached out and stroked her face as she tried not to cry.

  ‘I’m still trying to deal with it. She was my best friend. I’m not only mourning that bit but also for the loss of my mother. I talk to her all the time, hoping she can hear me. Sometimes I think I see her when I’m talking.’ Bea realised how strange that sounded. ‘Or I imagine I am seeing her, to give me some comfort. I hope I never let her down.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘With the failed engagements. I made monumental mistakes and my pride prevented me from admitting it earlier, mainly because daddy would know I fucked up.’ Then she slyly grinned. ‘And I certainly didn’t want my daddy to say ‘I told you so’.’

  ‘Really?’ Mylo starting to laugh and wrapped an arm around her waist. ‘You are a nice person.’

  ‘Were you a nice person when you split?’

  ‘I was awful,’ he replied. ‘Something I feel guilty about to this very day.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I hurt someone I really care about. That bit has crushed and broken me a little.’

  As he said it, she could sense something troubled him. It was obvious he had mixed feelings about his ex.

  ‘I learnt a good lesson from my two mistakes,’ she said, touching his hand. ‘Not to do it again.’

  ‘What? Fall in love?’

  ‘Not to hope it would get better when there was no chance of that ever happening.’ Bea let out a little groan. ‘And maybe marriage isn’t on the cards for me.’

  ‘It might be.’ Mylo grinned. ‘It’s the case of finding the right one.’

  ‘Too much hope fuels constant disappointment.’

  He grabbed her chin, kissing her lips gently.

  ‘Is that what you think?’

  Bea didn’t want to tell him, that’s what she knew.

  ‘That’s perfect.’

  She was riding him on the couch as he was sat up against the back.

  ‘I know,’ he gulped. ‘I love it.’

  He was alternating breasts to kiss and caress while squeezing her arse tightly, helping her to rock on his cock. To Bea, he felt good and the small living room was getting hotter by the second.

  The early hours on Sunday morning with frosted windows, seemed the perfect time to make love before he left.

  She glanced at her Christmas decorations and smiled.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he said breathlessly. ‘How’s your leg?’

  ‘Mylo?’ Bea wanted to laugh at his concern at the wrong time. ‘Let me make love to you.’

  ‘But I don’t want you to make it worse and-.’

  The kiss was the only way to shut him up as she looked into his eyes.

  Deeper and deeper, that’s what she was thinking.

  She was falling in love with Mylo and she needed to hold back before it went wrong.

  He grabbed her face before manoeuvring her to lie on the couch, then he wrapped her legs around his back.

  This is when he gently made love; kissing and stroking her body.

  Then it began.

  The all belly busting throb between her legs, tightening by the second; the friction of him being on top and inside; her inability to breathe.

  He was thrusting quickly and looked into her eyes while he did it. Bea wondered if he could see the love she was feeling and what was going on in her heart.

  Because right now she knew Mylo Kearney had taken it over in the span of a few days.

  He came, burying his head in her neck, giving her goose pimples when his breath hit her skin.

  ‘We’re wonderful together,’ she heard him mumble before he looked up. ‘And we were only going to make a cup of tea.’

  ‘That’s down to you getting frisky.’ Bea ran her fingers through his hair. ‘I’ll never complain about that.’

  ‘Can you come to the airport with me?’ Mylo asked, his face flushed. ‘I don’t want to walk out of here and say goodbye, not just yet.’

  ‘You’ll be back, won’t you?’

  He kissed her forehead, like he used to do.

  ‘Nothing’s going to stop me, other than the fact I live close by.’ He laughed. ‘Will you come with me?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  A few hours later, after getting off the underground, they waited in the terminal having a drink at a bar.

  There were people frantically rushing around and the air was full of the excitement leading up to Christmas but all Bea could do was look at Mylo.

  She didn’t want it to end so held onto the last seconds.

  ‘I spend a lot of time in airports,’ he said, as she sat mesmerised. ‘I go to the States every few months as I still have another business I invested in, and to see loved ones.’

  ‘Loved ones?’

  ‘You know, I was there for a while and I like to go back.’ She swore he blushed. ‘It’s good to catch up.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Bea knew he still wasn’t saying too much but they had only been together a few days. The last thing she wanted him to do was leave the country and forget about what happened.

  ‘I don’t want to move too fast,’ he said, snapping her out of her hazy love daze. ‘I need to be sure.’

  ‘I understand,’ Bea said, forcing her happy smile.

  ‘But I am sure about you.’

  ‘I am about you.’ She let out a little laugh. ‘If I’m being honest, I’m worried about things going wrong so I want to take my time. I keep thinking I was at fault the few times it got serious.’ Then she kissed him. ‘And I enjoy being with you.’

  ‘Good.’ Then she watched him turn when hearing his flight number being called to the departure lounge. ‘I better go.’

  Finishing off their drinks, Bea walked with him to the security gates.

  He stopped and turned, kissing her passionately before slowly parting their mouths. Her arms were gripped tightly around his waist.

  ‘Until I see you again,’ Mylo said, kissing her nose. ‘Which will be soon.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  And she truly did.

  ‘Aunties Belinda, Bertha and Babs!’

  Bea laughed as she entered the living room on Christmas Day to see the whole pla
ce nearly submerged with females.

  ‘Bea!’ Belinda shouted, the oldest sister, grabbing her within an inch of her life. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Emergency drive to get daddy more chickpeas. I’m not sure what he’s doing with so many cans,’ she said, glancing over at the kitchen then whispering. ‘Where’ve you hidden the booze?’

  ‘The outside freezer in the garage. He keeps meat there since turning into a vegetable.’

  ‘Vegetarian.’

  ‘Same thing!’ Bertha laughed out, the middle sister, then let out a loud sigh. ‘I’m surprised he’s not wearing his floral apron and rubber gloves! You know how he liked to dress up in mummy’s clothing when he was a child.’

  ‘Really? Do you have to?’ said Belinda shaking her head as Babs tried not to laugh.

  ‘Your dad loved to wear our dresses. He said mummy told him to but she never did. The prettiest little boy. Lucky you’ve got his looks. Your grandmother, our mother, wasn’t blessed in that department. Daddy had the looks and swagger.’

  ‘Bertha, you know Belinda gets upset when you say that because she looks like mummy,’ whispered Babs, still grinning. The older sibling was glaring at the sisters. ‘We’re here for Bea, don’t forget.’

  ‘And the pretty baby boy,’ sniggered Bertha.

  The aunts then tried to hug the dear life out of Bea.

  All three varied in size.

  Belinda being the largest and tallest. Her hair was cut short and dyed black. Always she wore glasses perched on the end of her nose and held in place by a string attachment wrapped around her neck. The woman was sensibly dressed and looked like the wife of a businessman. And she had very large feet, which she was overly sensitive about but Bea’s daddy also had inherited this which had luckily skipped a generation when it came to Bea.

  Bertha was a little smaller and the exact opposite. She always wore tracksuits and generally had a poor sense of style, opting for a more teenage look. It clashed with her appearance of heavily dyed hair. Black at the roots and red at the ends which always had curls kinking out. The make-up was garish but she was a pretty woman, nevertheless.

  And then there was Babs. She was quite chubby and short and the prettiest sister but not as pretty as Bernie. Always polite and quietly spoken, her aunt was on hand to help all and sundry when she could. Her hair was cut into a sensible bob that stopped at the nape of her neck and she wasn’t going to be a slave to the dye, opting for her grey to grow. And neither was she dictated by fashion, always wearing something sensible but nevertheless classy, for all occasions.

  Belinda and Bertha had two girls each and Babs had twin girls.

  And the three things the cousins, all seven of them, had in common were that they were all women and currently didn’t have partners they would admit to or want to bring to family gatherings. And much to the horror of the aunts, none of the girls had children of their own. Being the age range was from thirty four to forty one, the future looked bleak for all of them, in the older ladies eyes.

  Her dad, on the other hand, told Bea to wait until she was forty.

  Huddled in the corner were the husbands.

  Again, matching the size of each one of her aunts.

  ‘Bea, Bea, baby!’ she heard Carmel say, the oldest cousin and Belinda’s child.

  The youngest child, Carlota was stuck next to a bottle of orange juice, sipping it with a grin.

  ‘Little sis’ is getting slowly drunk,’ whispered her cousin. ‘There’s loads of it stashed all around the house.’

  ‘If daddy finds out, you know he’ll get all self-righteous on us.’

  ‘Considering he got drunk the most at Christmas time, that’s pretty funny.

  ‘Where’s my kiss?’ asked Denise, Bertha’s youngest daughter.

  She glanced at Denise’s sister, Debs. Both the girls dressed pretty similar to their mother, brash and loud. Bea knew it was probably down to Belinda pinching the girls’ clothing. All their hair was the same styling. Dark at the roots and brightly dyed at the ends, with big fat flicks at the front.

  The twins, Erin and Eunice, were whispering in the corner, probably about how to escape. They were identical but it didn’t take a fool to see that Eunice thought she was a boy. From the short, shaved head to the masculine clothes, she looked like a pretty boy. Whereas Erin was a feminine, flirtatious woman, with long flowing locks.

  ‘People! I have some lovely homemade snacks for everyone!’ her father announced, walking in and looking rather smart in a shirt and trousers. ‘I even succumbed to allowing meat on this very special day.’

  ‘I’ve got a large plastic cup with your name on it,’ whispered Carlota, slurring her words, as she stood behind Bea. ‘Let’s get pissed and get this party started.’

  And so they did.

  It was a far happier occasion that last year. This time, people were relaxed and they spoke about Bea’s mother without Bernie looking like he was going to crumble.

  But Bea kept imagining her mother in the room.

  The more she got drunk, the more certain she was about her being there with them.

  It was comforting.

  At four o’clock Mylo rang her mobile.

  She ran into the garden to get some privacy, which was hard because a few people were hiding outside having sneaky cigarettes.

  ‘Hello!’ he said sounding cheerful. ‘Merry Christmas!’

  ‘Merry Christmas to you!’ She let out a little giggle and put her hand over her mouth. ‘How’s your day been?’

  ‘Pretty good. We’ve just finished a three hour lunch session and I’m stuffed!’

  ‘It’s mayhem here. Daddy has decided that we can’t drink alcohol so everyone is sneaking around getting pissed. He thinks we’re just happy about eating vegetable curry!’ Then she sighed. ‘Mylo, I’ve missed you and I can’t stop thinking about you.’

  ‘That’s really nice.’

  That wasn’t what she expected to hear.

  ‘Anyway, lovely to speak to you,’ he continued, still sounding happy. ‘I hope your leg gets better soon. I’ve got to go.’

  He hung up.

  Bea stood still, not knowing what had happened.

  She had declared something to him and he thought it was nice, really nice. The bitter disappointment swept over her and she felt hurt that he didn’t say the same thing.

  But it was a Christmas fling.

  Nothing more. Nothing less.

  ‘Who needs a drink?’

  Her father was very pleased that everyone was having a good time. ‘There’s so much fun to be had!’

  Bea was sipping her rum and coke, trying to figure out if he really didn’t have any idea that nearly everyone who wasn’t driving was pissed.

  ‘Are you having a wonderful day, Bethi?’ he asked, pinching her cheek. ‘You have been such a good girl, helping with the presents and food.’

  ‘Yes daddy,’ she replied, trying to numb out the conversation with Mylo two hours earlier. ‘I’m having a lovely day. I’m going back to my place tonight. I think you might have a lot of overnight guests.’

  ‘You have to stay!’ her father said, pulling her to the side. ‘It’s Christmas Day and your mummy-.’ That’s when she saw it, the true sadness behind the dark brown-black eyes. ‘You have to stay.’

  ‘Daddy, I love you very much,’ Bea whispered, grabbing his arm. ‘I miss her too, all the time. Sometimes it hurts so much I don’t know what to do. But I can’t change what happened. And I think we’ll learn how to cope in time. I talk to mummy every day. I know she can hear me.’

  ‘And see you, so mind how you behave or she’ll let me know. None of that boy shenanigans.’

  He wrapped his arms around her and gave a gentle hug.

  Bea kissed him on the cheek and walked out of the living room, taking her handbag.

  As she passed her parent’s room, she noticed a dress was hanging up on the side. It wasn’t one of her mother’s so she wondered where it came from. Then she sneaked into th
e bedroom, walking around and seeing her mother’s belongings still left on the dressing table. A lump came to her throat as she touched the hairbrush, instantly recalling he mother’s smell.

  Bea looked at the dress and noticed it was far too small for the aunts to wear plus it was floral. The wardrobe door was half open so she peeked in and noticed he had given most of her mother’s clothes to charity but there were some outfits which looked rather new hanging inside.

  Then the awful thought crossed her mind that he had bought the clothing for Bea. She’d have to lie about liking them before handing them over to a charity shop in another town, should he find out about her donation.

  Going into her old room and sitting down on the bed, Bea looked at her phone.

  There was a missed call from Mylo and he had left a message.

  ‘Are you going to ask about my other leg?’ she mumbled, listening to what he had to say this time. ‘Or just call it a day?’

  ‘Bea, I’m really sorry about the last call. My mother was trying to eavesdrop. I wanted to tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all the time and I really want to see you again. I know we said about taking it slow but I don’t want to. I can’t wait until we’re together. I’ll see you really very soon.’

  He hung up.

  She held the phone to her heart and let out a sigh.

  Then she texted him.

  ‘Thanks for your lovely message. X’

  Her phone rang and it was Mylo.

  ‘Bea, I’m really missing you,’ he whispered. ‘I’m sorry about earlier.’

  ‘It’s okay and my leg is much better,’ she replied, starting to laugh.

  ‘Are you staying at your dad’s for the next few days?’

  ‘I’m going back home tonight. It’s full of mad, drunk people here.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t want to go slow, not when I think there’s something good between us. I miss you and we’ve not been together a week.’ He started to laugh. ‘Did I say something funny?’

  ‘I really, really miss you.’

  ‘Then that’s good, isn’t it?’