A Darker Kind of Love

by Angela Peach

  It took about ten to fifteen minutes, but eventually he relaxed enough for me to coax him into the bathroom. By now, I had several angry itching points up both arms, and could feel a couple of tingling areas on my neck as well, so I was pretty desperate to get the flea shampoo on him. My time to relax was slipping further and further away, but it would be worth it in the end.

  “I think you’ve talked about him before,” Mel said as she lounged against the shower wall. “Isn’t he the stray you feed at the café?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “So why have you suddenly brought him home now?”

  “Oh, some evil bitch was kicking him on the beach and I didn’t want her reporting him to the RSPCA or anything. They might have, y’know, sent him to the pound in the sky.”

  Mel laughed.

  “Han, he’s not gonna understand what it means if you say they’d put him down!”

  “He’s a very perceptive being, Mel,” I said, covering his ears just in case. “Well, anyway, I thought I’d bring him home and see how things went. But he’s being so well behaved, aren’t you? Yesh shew are, cosh you’re a good boy.”

  I was rewarded by a sudden attack of sloppy wet kisses and then Danny launched himself out of the bath, placing his front paws on my shoulders. I fell backwards, arms wind-milling uselessly before I slammed hard into the sink behind me. Mel dissolved into hysterical laughter while Danny stood happily on my chest, continuing his over-zealous love fest.

  “I’m glad you’re finding this so funny. I’m fine, by the way,” I grumbled, annoyed at the severe lack of sympathy. I awkwardly pushed myself up from the floor and lifted the dog back into the bath, giving him my best ‘don’t mess with me’ look.

  The rinsing and second shampoo only served to prove just how necessary the whole process was as I watched the corpses of about a thousand fleas float to a watery grave en masse. It made my skin crawl thinking of how I’d been snuggling into him earlier, but I also felt really sorry for him. It must have driven him totally mad so I knew he was totally going to appreciate this.

  I squeezed all the excess moisture from his fur before rubbing him down with a towel, then left him in the bathroom while I ran around the flat with the flea spray spraying carpets, curtains and soft furnishings. I opened a window in each room for the fumes to dissipate (well, it wasn’t going to make it much colder in here) then returned to the bathroom for my rather well-deserved shower.

  As I opened the door, I was sprayed with damp dog droplets courtesy of my new pet, vigorously shaking his fur all over my once clean room. Mel was watching, amused.

  “I like him. Let’s keep him!”

  Danny barked enthusiastically as if he’d heard and understood.

  I vaguely wondered if it was possible for a dog and a ghost to team up together? Stripping off my mucky clothes and finally getting under the hot jets, I had a feeling I was going to find out.

  CHAPTER 5

  FIVE YEARS AGO

  I looked at the girl across the room again, sizing her up. She was hot and I’d caught her glancing at me a few times.

  “Who’s that girl in the white dress over there?” I asked, nodding my head casually in the direction of the mystery girl. Freddie took a good look before shaking her head.

  “No idea. You like?”

  “Yeah, I like,” I murmured, taking in the stylish red hair and athletic figure across from me. She exuded confidence. And sexual confidence at that, which I always found extremely attractive. She said something to her friends, then turned and headed purposefully our way. My pulse quickened as our eyes made contact, sparks flying between us and increasing the closer she got. Freddie nudged me playfully.

  “Hi there. Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure. My name’s Hanna, and this is my best friend, Freddie,” I said, deciding to do away with any possible confusion about whether or not she was my girlfriend.

  “I’m Mel.”

  Bless her, Fred made a wonderfully polite exit that neither Mel nor I noticed very much, and we were left alone to get to know each other. It was intense. Her attention was focused solely on me and she was sending some very serious sexy vibes my way. Every time our bodies made contact (which was quite often) it sent a delicious tingle across my skin, causing my hormones to ramp up higher and higher and higher.

  She was funny, interesting and extremely sensual, and all I could concentrate on was getting the small talk out of the way so we could go back to mine or hers and fuck like wild rabbits. Mel clearly had the same errant thoughts in mind because after only twenty five minutes of chatter, we were in the back of a taxi making out like teenagers, just about holding it together until we got to mine.

  And it was well worth it! The sex was explosive and fun and we shagged all night, and most of the next day too. I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, although at the time I didn’t realise how true that analogy was. We had a powerful attraction that seemed to burn in us, making us inseparable for weeks.

  After two months we U-hauled like typical lesbians, and Mel moved out of her flat and into mine. It seemed like a perfect idea at the time and things were great at first. Sure, we had our fair share of teething problems, but wasn’t that just a normal part of getting used to living with someone? A little compromise here about putting the toilet lid down between uses, a compromise there about the nicest washing powder to use for clothes. Little things as well as the bigger things.

  But then the tide gradually turned and it seemed that all the compromising was coming from me. I’d do the pots after work because I knew she was tired (and they probably wouldn’t get done otherwise) having the soaps on instead of listening to music and chatting, when it was okay to go out with friends. I didn’t mind so much at first, finding it easier to just keep the peace because she always seemed to think she was right. Even when she wasn’t.

  After eighteen months, I wasn’t fool enough to believe we had a lasting relationship, but I didn’t want to just give up either. We had our good times and the sex was still amazing.

  It was the bad times, starting to outweigh the good ones, that were the problem. Mel was prone to bouts of extreme tantrums where doors would get slammed, belongings thrown and voices raised to loud decibels. These tantrums were followed by long sulks which drained me trying to pull her out of them. But I could handle it because she was worth it when she emerged and was fun and loving again. I worked fucking hard for those good times and deserved every last second of them.

  It was in the third year of our relationship that a little bit of physical stuff started to creep in. Nothing major. Sometimes she’d push me really hard into the wall, or pull my hair when she was shouting in my face. It wasn’t really what I classed as domestic abuse, but Freddie felt very fucking differently. On observing some bruises around my wrists, she managed to force a confession from me – I told her we’d been arguing and that Mel had pinned me down with my arms above my head. It was a very condensed version of events, but it had been enough to outrage her. She went ballistic and they had a blazing row, (while I didn’t know who to stand by but was painfully aware that I’d be in the shit later with whichever one I didn’t back up) and that was the end of their tenuous relationship. Well, to be fair they’d always pretty much hated each other, but had been tolerant for my sake. All polite niceties between them went out of the window, and from there on in they just openly and freely hated each other.

  That was when we hit a wall. Everything I did seemed to irritate Mel, and vice versa. We snapped and sniped incessantly, neither of us happy in the slightest but feeling unable to do anything about it. Sure, we threatened to end it all the time, but never went through with it. If I’m honest, I think we were just used to each other at that point, comfortable in our self-made misery.

  It was late in our fourth year together that everything changed.

  (And that, my friends, is the understatement of the fucking century!)

  CHAPTER 6

  PRESENT DAY

  I woke
up warm. This was such a luxury that for a moment I drifted back to sleep, my lips curling up in a smile of contentment. But then the soft snoring from the body next to me shocked me awake and I rolled over, eyes snapping open.

  “Oh, Danny, it’s you. Hey boy, you kept me warm last night,” I said, snuggling into him. He yawned in my face, and I laughed at his cheekiness. “Thanks. You want some breakfast?”

  “Talking to the dog? Well, didn’t take long for me to get replaced,” Mel said, coming to sit on the bed and bringing an icy breeze with her. I pulled Danny closer, totally appreciating his body warmth. “He’s certainly made himself at home.”

  “This is his home now.”

  “Hmm.” Mel tilted her head to one side as she stared at me. “You might not be so thrilled when you see your face.”

  I frowned, moving slowly out of bed and going to the full length mirror on the wall.

  “No! Oh shit.” I frantically leaned forward, studying the four angry looking flea bites on my face, one of them being large and prominent on the end of my nose, two under my left eye and one just above my lip.

  “Definite improvement if you ask me!”

  “Mel, you’re not helping! Oh man, I look like a witchy old hag,” I wailed, turning my head left and right to view it from every possible angle. “It’s not even as if there are any major arteries in the nose, so why? Why would they do this to me?”

  “You’re the one with the sudden soft spot for waifs and strays. I’d phone in sick if I were you.”

  “I can’t do that, it’s hardly like I’m ill is it.” I pulled on a dressing gown, wondering if a shower might help? Mel shrugged as I walked past her.

  “You’ll scare the customers looking like that. I’d totally call in sick.”

  “That’s ridiculous and vain. I have to go in. They’ll probably go down before I get there.”

  “Yeah, sure they will.”

  I shut the bathroom door firmly, knowing she’d just phase through it anyway, as she normally did. Her words were bouncing round in my head now though, and my stomach sank as I remembered inviting Sophie to come by the café. Maybe she would be put off by my hasty exit last night? Maybe she’d want to play hard to get and come in tomorrow?

  As the red hot jets massaged my skin, I felt irresistibly drawn to touch the bites, my over-active imagination imagining them to be ping pong ball sized now. I ignored Mel’s inane chatter and went through my options.

  1 - Phone in sick.

  No, that was ridiculous.

  2 - Slap a load of foundation over them.

  Then I’d look even more ridiculous. I wasn’t a make-up kinda gal.

  3 - ?

  Well, to give Mel her dues, I couldn’t come up with anything better. Unless…

  “What the bloody hell have you got on your face?”

  I gave Freddie a withering look. It was, after all, fairly obvious what was on my face.

  “Plasters,” I answered, humouring her. The small round plasters I’d found in my medicine cabinet just about covered the bite marks, were vaguely skin coloured and had been my best option.

  “I can see that!”

  “Then why ask? Coffee?”

  “Uh, sure. Han, why do you have plasters all over your face?”

  “Because I got fucking eaten alive by Danny’s fleas, that’s why.” I fired up the coffee machine, hoping she’d drop the subject and leave it alone. For a second I thought she was going to pursue it, but then she just shook her head gently and carried on going through the cakes in the fridge, checking dates and removing the old ones. I made us two strong cappuccinos, topped with foam so stiff you could stand a dozen spoons up in it, and we went about getting the place set up for business.

  My stomach was nervous, though. Sophie was bound to come in today, I could feel it in my bones. I was trying to work out how she would react to my face, and also how I would feel about seeing those delicious brown eyes of hers target the plasters covering the angry red spots. I was pretty certain she’d be fine and not laugh at me like Mel had, but the question was…did I really want her to see me like this? I wasn’t sure I did. I wanted her to see me at my best, and considering the sweaty, rank state I’d been in last night, I had a lot of ground to cover.

  At lunchtime, Ju came rushing in to give me details of the Beer Festival we were going to, and I happily informed her of Freddie’s intended attendance. I also told her I was planning to invite someone else, in as casual a manner as possible. Her eyes lit up, and I could tell she was gagging to get excited about the prospect of my inching back into the dating scene. But to my surprise she held back, just saying ‘Great, nice one Han.’

  It wasn’t long after she’d left that my eyes fell on an approaching figure outside. Sophie! I froze for a second, adrenaline pumping from the thought of seeing her and talking to her and having her attention on me, but then the ‘having her attention’ bit freaked me out. I dived to the floor and scurried out to the kitchen on my hands and knees.

  “Fred, you need to help me?” I hissed, hearing the little bell on the entrance door ring, announcing the arrival of a certain blonde haired customer.

  “What’s up? Are you ok?” she asked, helping me to stand.

  “Shh! I need you to go out there and serve Sophie. Tell her I’ve popped out for something if she asks for me.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes! Go!”

  I moved myself out of the way as Freddie reluctantly went out front, wiping her hands nervously on her apron, then I crouched on the floor again and pressed my ear to the door.

  Fred- “Er, hi. Can I help you?”

  Sophie- “Yeah, I was looking for Anna?”

  Fred- “Sorry, she’s had to pop out for…supplies? Is it anything I can help with or shall I just give her a message when she gets back?”

  Sophie- “That’s okay, I don’t mind waiting. Um, I think I’ll try a Mocha and a slice of lemon torte please.”

  Fred- “What?”

  Oh no. The only thing Freddie knew about the coffee machine was how to get hot water out of it, and if we got more customers while Sophie was here, we were screwed. I couldn’t hide out in here for the rest of the afternoon, and there were things cooking. Sophie repeated the order and I heard Fred getting the torte out of the fridge. Then;

  Sophie- “Do you want a hand?”

  Fred- “No, it’s okay, I got it.” (Pause as the machine ground beans) “Y’know, I’m not too sure how long she’s going to be. She could be a couple of hours?”

  Sophie- “That’s alright. I’m not working at the moment, so I really don’t have anything better to do with my time, sadly.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration.

  Sophie- “Oh, you need to…no the other way…are you sure you don’t want me to help? I’ve done this sort of thing before.”

  Fred- “No, I think that’s in now.”

  Sophie- “I don’t think it’s connected prop…oopsie!”

  Fred- “Fuck! Oh shit, it’s not turning off. I really hope Hanna gets back really soon.”

  I got the message loud and clear and my stomach sank. I knew I was going to have to go back out front. I ran over to the mirror above the hand-washing basin and carefully peeled off one of the plasters. Hmm, now there was a bright red rim around the swollen (and frustratingly itchy) bite. But even so, Fred had said I was out getting supplies, so I couldn’t very well just breeze on back in without them.

  Another idea started to form, but this one was much better than the plaster-disaster and required stealth and speed. I quietly crept out of the back door to a little private yard, an area where we kept the bins and a couple of chairs for breaks in the summer. Fred’s bike was leaning against the wall, looking squeaky clean considering the rainy weather we’d had the past couple of weeks. I crouched down next to it and gingerly touched the chain, smiling in relief when my finger came away black. Satisfied, I rubbed the oil all over my hands until they were coated, then snuck back inside to the sink. T
here I strategically smeared black smudges across the bites, and when I stepped back from the mirror to admire my handiwork, I hoped Sophie was the kinda gal who found the ‘mechanic’ look sexy. (In my honest opinion, it beat the ‘just ran up umpteen flights of stairs after cleaning a greasy kitchen’ look, but hey, that was just me.)

  I went back out to the yard and jogged around the rear edge of the car park, paused to compose myself and go through the final details in my head, then walked back into the café through the front door, trying to look as casual as possible.

  Sophie was now stood behind the counter showing Freddie how to use the coffee machine, and my breath caught as I forgot everything I’d just been planning. I hadn’t been prepared for this – even from a distance of about twelve feet, the effect she had on me was like a juggernaut hitting a sheet of glass. I froze, my mouth sucking air into suddenly empty lungs and my heart ceasing to beat for what felt like an eternity. Hearing the door open, they both turned round and stared right back at me, but my gaze was fixed on Sophie alone. She was wearing glasses today, and her blonde hair was pulled back in a rough, but easy ponytail. My jaw stuttered up and down as I fought to regain composure, feeling like I’d been sucked into a spinning vortex and I just needed to pull myself back to reality.

  Freddie spluttered out laughing. It was enough to bring me back. Clearing my throat, I continued to walk to the counter, although my legs were suddenly very shy and wobbly.

  “Sophie! I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

  “Hey Anna.” She uncertainly raised her hand to her face. “Um, do you know you’ve got…”

  “Oil on my face? Yeah, I do.” I looked at Fred. “Pete’s van only went and broke down on me about a mile or two up the road. I tried to have a look under the bonnet, but I couldn’t find what was wrong. Can you go out back and call him, let him know what’s happened?”

  “Sure! Where did it break down again?” Fred could barely hold it together, and now Sophie was giving her odd looks. I made up a road name nearby and gave her a look of my own that said to get outta here, before thanking her for looking after things. She took the hint and went out to the kitchen, leaving me to take a couple of calming breaths as I joined Sophie behind the counter. Her perfume was a favourite of mine and I tried to casually breathe it in as we gazed at each other for a long moment.