by Gwyn G B
Alison took her bait.
‘No, you’re right it’s not. Sophie has taken her father’s death so badly and I just don’t think I’ve been helping her enough.’
‘Oh but surely…’
‘No, I’ve been too emotional, I need to stop over-reacting to things. She needs me to be strong.’
‘But you can’t suddenly turn yourself into a rock of support.’ She watched Alison push down the plunger on the cafetière.
‘No, but I’m going to perhaps look into some form of counselling, you know, to help me calm down and understand my emotions.’
‘Counselling!’ said Martha looking slightly horrified, ‘but you have to be so careful. You know what these counsellors can be like, if they get it into their heads that you are all unstable… well you know they might say you are an unsuitable parent or something…’ It was Alison’s turn to be horrified now.
‘You mean take Sophie away, no surely not, I don’t mean a psychiatrist as such, just a grief counsellor or something. Just somebody to talk to really.’
‘Yes, but you know how these things start. I’d think very carefully if I were you. Besides you know that I am always here if you need to talk,’ and Martha took a sip of her coffee, watching the worry creep over Alison’s face again, content in the knowledge that she’d have sufficiently scared her to stop her going to a counsellor. She didn’t want any busybody outsider putting ideas into her head and reducing the clan’s control over what Alison did - and thought.
After Martha had left, Alison tried yet again to contact Charlie. The little guilt bug inside of her had grown into a huge niggling monster and she felt terrible about ever doubting him. She needed to speak to him, to tell him she loved him and to undo the damage she’d caused by asking him not to come down for the weekend and then being cold on the phone yesterday. The fear she felt now was the fear of losing him, a man who’d been nothing but supportive and loving. Yet again though she was greeted by his recorded voice. It was 4pm and she’d promised Sophie that they’d drive to the next village and have cream scones and tea as a treat.
On the way they passed Jim Harding driving in the opposite direction. He didn’t seem to see Alison, but was talking to a young miserable looking boy in the passenger seat next to him. Alison waved and tried to catch his attention, but he’d sped by. They continued on to Nenwich where they gorged themselves on strawberries, cream scones and tea. Alison drove home feeling quite sick but much happier than she had yesterday, Sophie seemed relaxed and they’d had a good time together, just the two of them.
Charlie went from depression, deep hurt and self pity, through to a feeling of defiant self-righteousness. What had he done to deserve such off-hand treatment? Nothing, but love and try to take care of Alison and Sophie.
After getting totally drunk on Saturday night he decided to spend the whole of Sunday round a friend’s house, just to make sure he wasn’t in to receive any phone call from Alison. He did hate playing games, but Alison needed to start appreciating him a bit more and he needed to start thinking about number one - something he hadn’t done for some time. Besides it was after all Alison who needed him not the other way round, she had a new baby on the way - his baby, and a difficult child to cope with, not to mention emotional baggage from Phil’s death. He’d just make his point and then things could get back on track again.
As it was of course, he spent most of the time round his friend’s house thinking and talking about Alison and wondering if she’d called. By the time he got home he was busting to get to the answerphone - there were three messages, all from her.
‘Hi Charlie, hope you haven’t got too bad a hangover, I’m really sorry I couldn’t talk yesterday, but you know how it is when you’re really tired. Anyway call me when you get in.’
‘Charlie it’s me, we’re just off out for some tea and scones so we won’t be in for an hour or so, just in case you call… oh by the way it’s just after four. Miss you…’
‘Hi Charlie,’ her voice sounded a bit flat now, ‘It’s eleven, guess you’re still out, hope you’re having fun. We had a good day, but I’m exhausted again now so I’m going to bed. I guess I’ll speak to you in the morning. Night.’
Charlie closed his eyes and wished he’d come home forty-five minutes earlier. It was a quarter to twelve and he knew he couldn’t call now. After getting a glass of water he went to bed, setting his alarm for work and looking longingly at the photo of Alison by his bed before he turned out the light.
He hadn’t been fair to her, now it was his turn to feel guilty. She sounded so tired and sad in her last message. After all she’d had to cope with over the last few months, the last thing she needed was him ignoring her. It was his baby too, just because she carried it didn’t mean that he wasn’t half responsible.
He tossed and turned in bed, it was getting late, he had to be up at six thirty in the morning to get through the traffic and into work so he could prepare for a meeting. He hadn’t exactly been concentrating on his job much over the past few weeks - but what the Hell anyway! What was important to him? A boring job he’d been doing for too many years already, or the woman he loved and their baby? He made up his mind. He wasn’t going to let Alison have any excuse not to love him. When that alarm clock woke him up in the morning it would be tell him to drive down to Dorset. He was going to talk to her in the morning alright, but face to face. Sod work.
Alison cleared away the breakfast things and put her shoes on ready to walk Sophie to the bus. ‘So,’ she thought,’Charlie still hasn’t called. I’m slightly off to him in one phone call and that’s it, he starts playing games and ignoring me. Proves how adult and committed he is!’ But her defiant thoughts couldn’t cover the aching in her heart or the sadness she felt for his baby growing inside of her. There was also another fear, the fear that something might have happened to him. The same fear she’d felt when Phil hadn’t returned home that night.
By the time she walked back to the house after waving Sophie goodbye, she had gone totally on the defensive and the possibility of losing him had scared her into thinking that maybe she’d be better off without him. Cut her losses now before the pain had a chance to build up. She began to persuade herself being alone was easier. She’d manage without him. If he was playing games and couldn’t understand how difficult it was for her being in the middle of him and Sophie then he wasn’t worth fighting for anyway. She got indoors. There was nothing on the answerphone and so she really began to get annoyed.
She tried sitting down and writing for half an hour, desperately wanting to start that book she’d been thinking about for so long. But it wasn’t working, all she could think about was Charlie and why he hadn’t called. Then the doorbell rang.
‘Surprise, it’s me!’
As Alison opened the door, Charlie’s beaming face came into view.
‘Charlie!’ was all she could splutter out, not knowing whether to be cross with him or to convey how her heart had leapt when she saw him. His face dropped at her response.
‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me,’ he started to explain his appearance to her, ‘I thought we could have a day, just the two of us…’
‘I’m sorry,’ Alison replied, registering his disappointment with her reaction. How comes these moments are never like they are in the movies - instead becoming a tumble of misunderstandings and insecurities. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’ she asked opening the door wider to let him in, and then realising how that question sounded.
Charlie began to feel deflated again. He’d been hoping for an enthusiastic reception, but he hadn’t got it so far.
‘Did you have something planned for today?’ he asked in return, beginning to go on the defensive.
‘No, come in. You must be dying for a cup of tea.’ Charlie reached out to her for a kiss, but she’d already turned and was heading towards the kitchen.
She couldn’t explain it, but just the suspicions she’d had about him, the doubts, the silly game of not answering the
phone, they’d thrown up some kind of barrier. She was scared of their involvement, scared of the power he held over her already battered emotions. Her feelings deep down hadn’t changed, but she was surprised by her reaction. She couldn’t bring herself to throw her arms around him as though nothing had happened, she needed some reassurance from him. But how could she explain that?
‘Are you OK?’ he asked in her wake.
‘Yes, fine thanks,’ she turned round smiling, trying to make an effort and not appear different, ‘we had a nice weekend.’
‘Because I wasn’t around I suppose…’ Charlie was beginning to get a little annoyed now. He’d just driven for over two hours to see her and all he was getting was a cold shoulder again.
’No, I didn’t mean it like that. I missed you.’
‘Well that was hard to say. You’re not exactly acting pleased to see me,’ he replied.
Now it was Alison’s turn to try the physical approach, instinctively she reached out to take his hands, but he withdrew.
‘Look, if you’ve got a problem with me, then why don’t you tell me?’
‘Charlie, I don’t. I’m so sorry. I’ve just been so wrapped up in Sophie and why she seems to act the way she does towards you.’
Charlie sighed, ‘Seems to me you’re beginning to behave like her.’
‘’What?’ now Alison became defensive over Sophie.
‘Nothing.’
‘Yes it was, what did you say?’
‘Look, I came all the way from London to see you and spend some time with you and you’re just giving me the cold shoulder. First you can’t be bothered to talk to me on the phone, now you don’t want to see me. You’re carrying my child Alison, how do you think that makes me feel?’
‘I was tired on Saturday.’
‘So, are you tired again now?’
‘No. I…’
‘No. OK, well look I am going back home. If you manage to work out what it is that’s bothering you and you’d care to convey it to me, then you know where to find me.’ He started walking towards the front door.
‘Charlie please don’t go.’
He turned round now, his eyes straining to hold back tears. ‘I think it’s best if I go.’ Charlie went to leave but turned back again and kissed her on the forehead, planting both his hands firmly on her shoulders. ‘I still mean what I said. I love you, but I can’t fight you. You have to want me around.’
With that he opened the door and Alison could only watch as he walked to his car and drove off, leaving her in floods of tears and feeling like the world had turned upside down yet again.
Charlie was so upset with Alison, with Sophie and with himself for having over-reacted, that he nearly ran over the thin woman who was trying to flag him down at the end of the lane. She was standing next to an old rusty heap of a car with its bonnet open, Charlie was not in the mood, but she looked desperate so he pulled over to see if he could help.
‘I’m so sorry to bother you,’ she said coming towards him.
He was struck by how panicked she looked.
‘My car has broken down and I just can’t get it to start.’
‘That’s OK,’ said Charlie, smiling warmly at her and trying to put her at ease. ‘I’ll take a look and see what I can do.’
‘Thank you, ‘ she replied and handed over her keys. He tried the ignition, there was nothing. The engine wouldn’t even turn over and the battery light glowed red.
‘Dead battery. That’s simple, I can give you a jump start. Shouldn’t take too long.’
‘Thank you,’ she almost whispered.
Not much of a conversationalist thought Charlie. He moved his car into position and got his jump leads from the boot. At least doing something was taking his mind off Alison for a few minutes.
‘You’re not from round here are you?’ asked the thin one.
‘Nope, I was visiting Alison Swift, she moved here a month or two ago.’
‘Yes, the lady and her young daughter, they live next door to Martha Hurrell.’
‘That’s right. You’re from the village then?’ said Charlie, trying to get the conversation off Alison.
‘Yes, been here quite a few years now.’ Her old car sparked into life, spluttered and then died again. Charlie continued to charge it up and tried a couple of minutes later, but got the same result.
‘Not looking good I’m afraid. Looks like something more serious and beyond my mechanical knowledge.’
‘Oh no!’ she looked about to burst into tears.
‘Are you not in the AA or RAC?’
She shook her head.
‘Then the best thing we can do is get you home and call a local garage.’
She looked altogether relieved. ‘Oh would you mind. Thank you so much.’
She directed him to a small cottage out on its own on the road past the village. From the outside it looked damp and musty, its faded curtains limp in its windows like pheasants hanging ready for the pot. The garden was wild, no cultivation had taken place within its confines for some years and what looked like an old wooden garage, or at least what had once been a garage, cluttered the end of the driveway.
‘You must come in and wash your hands and I’ll make you a cup of tea,’ she said to him as they arrived. Charlie looked at his hands which were indeed oil stained and thought about how his thirsty throat had been denied a drink at Alison’s.
‘Thank you, that would be great and I am rather thirsty.’
She smiled, the first proper smile he’d seen from her.
The kitchen was small and dark and everything in it looked like it could do with being replaced and updated. The house didn’t feel welcoming at all and Charlie looked once again at his host, wondering about her life. She wore a wedding ring but the air seemed stale somehow, and he got the impression the marriage was not a loving one, Whatever her domestic situation she obviously felt more at ease on her own territory because she seemed more animated now, hustling him over to the old cracked sink.
When he had finished she showed him into the sitting room and sat him on a sofa that, like her, seemed to have greyed with age. Before long she too had come clinking into the room with the tea things. She’d obviously got out her best china for the occasion, although it wasn’t exactly Royal Dolton and he guessed that she probably very rarely had any visitors.
The tea tasted bitter, but he was thirsty and didn’t want to be impolite. He presumed it must be some really cheap brand and if he didn’t drink it he’d appear a right snob. He sat there sipping it and making polite conversation with the woman, unaware that the Cane toad drug she’d put in the teacup from Martha was slowly working its way through his system and up to his brain. It wasn’t until his head began to swim that he put down his tea cup and clasping his hand to his forehead said, ‘I’m not feeling well.’
‘Oh dear,’ said the thin woman, ‘why don’t you lie back.’
Charlie did as he was told. She cleared way the tea things while the room became a sea of swirling, bright colour. Within a few minutes he really wasn’t quite sure of just where he was or who he was with.
He was vaguely aware that she had moved onto the sofa with him. He heard her voice lapping at his ears like waves on the seashore, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. Then he felt her warm, moist mouth on his. She was kissing him and he kissed her back. There was no control in his body, his brain was swimming in a drugged haze, he felt her hand unzipping his trousers and he knew that all he wanted was orgasmic relief.
His arms lay by his side like dead weights, he made no effort to resist, or help with the unzipping process and before too long he felt the flesh of her hand on his hardened penis. Confident that he was fully aroused she sat astride him, still fully clothed, but rubbing herself against his genitals. She took off her top, allowing two small breasts to fall out inches from his face. Like a small child his mouth opened to receive one and she leant into him allowing him to suckle on a purple nipple until even that became too much effort
and he let it slip from his mouth, brushing his lips as it went. Realising that the moment would pass if she didn’t act, his trousers were opened fully and she slipped between his legs to kneel before him, taking him in her mouth. She worked it, her head bobbing up and down, the feeling of intense pleasure building up inside him like he’d never felt before. There was a fire between his legs, its heat radiating out down to his toes, up into his stomach and even to his arms. Then came the explosion, his pleasure bursting out and sending waves of orgasmic contractions throughout his body. As the waves made their way up to his brain, the room turned to night, the colours gone, just darkness and starbursts remaining and Sally Davidson went to swill her mouth.
She felt incredibly relieved, everything had gone according to plan just as Martha said it would. She did feel a little sorry for the man who was slouched sleeping on the sofa, but she’d had to do what she’d been told. She put away his sticky limp penis and zipped up his trousers. She’d also given him enough sleeping pills in his tea to make sure he’d be out for hours and the hallucinatory effects of the toad venom worn off. There could be no way Alison would miss his car when she passed and pass she would. Martha had managed to get a message to Sophie that their plan was to be put into action. She would ring her mother and say she didn’t feel well. Alison would be sure to pick her up from school. Sally went to move Charlie’s car a little closer to the road, there had to be no room for doubt in Alison’s mind.
Alison had collapsed in tears on her sofa after Charlie left. Seeing him walk out on her like that had torn her apart, he’d always been there when she’d needed him, but it was her own fault for having acted so coldly towards him. She felt sick again and had thrown up before returning to the sofa and snoozing for a while.
When she woke up Charlie had been gone for two hours, she decided she had to speak to him. Poor Charlie, he’d driven all that way to see her and all she’d done was give him a hard time, wasn’t the fact he’d come down evidence enough of his feelings? She’d been expecting too much, been over sensitive. She dialled his number but got only the answerphone. She left a message saying she was truly sorry and asking him to call when he got in.