by Daisy Burton
“It’s your house, Marsh, you can come here whenever you want to. It’s beef for dinner, though, because I didn’t fancy turkey.”
“Sounds fantastic. I’ll come back after I’ve dropped the girls back in the morning, then?”
“Okay. I’m sure Mel has other plans by now anyway, so I’ll let her get on with it. I’ll take her pressies over on Boxing Day.”
She hadn’t spoken to Mel since Marsh had left, but it was the usual tradition for Sal to visit on Boxing Day. Mel was usually up all Christmas Eve night on a pub crawl with her friends, and spent most of Christmas Day nursing the World’s Greatest Hangover. She was usually somewhere near human again by Boxing Day.
Marsh put an arm around Sal’s waist and pulled her gently in. He looked into her eyes and she could feel his breath on her. “You smell amazing. And you’re wearing make-up! Beautiful.”
He noticed! Sal melted despite her better judgement.
He reached down and kissed her again, longer this time, and more deeply. It took her breath away; it was so unexpected and passionate. He smelled of her Marshy, and it felt the same as it always had with him; loving, warm and fiery. She couldn’t think of anything else once he did that. She melted into him, pressing against him, and putting her arms around his back as her teeth bore down gently on his lip. Her heart was racing again, but this time in a good way. She hadn’t felt remotely like this for several weeks, but now, in close proximity to him, she was switched on in a way she didn’t recognise. She felt a heady mixture of lust and new-found fury at what he’d done. She had no idea how to handle this new sensation of anger that had overtaken her in that moment, leaving a cold trail up her spine.
Silently, she took his hand and led him up the stairs to their bedroom. She waited until he came level with her, ready to embrace again, and she pushed him hard so he fell backwards onto the bed.
She stood with her hands on her hips, and smiled at him as she reached down to take off his jeans. She took off his belt, unzipped them and pulled them purposefully off his legs. He whipped off his t-shirt without raising himself off the bed more than a couple of inches, and lay there in only his pants and socks, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Sal had an overwhelming urge to wipe that smile off his face. She undid the buttons on the front of her dress and eased it off one shoulder in the most alluring way she could manage. Being like that didn’t come naturally to her – she usually ended up feeling awkward and giving up. She couldn’t do that today, though.
Turning around, she took both arms out of her dress, wiggled her hips as she bent over away from him, and stepped out of it. This wasn’t planned. She had put her best lingerie on imagining that it would never be seen by anyone else, but that it would make her feel more confident. Right now, she was pleased that she’d made the effort. It wouldn’t have had the same effect if she’d been wearing her usual, tatty, greyed knickers.
As she turned to face him in her turquoise satin push-up bra, matching knickers and suspender belt, she realised that although she’d bought them in September, he’d never seen them. Was it really that long since they’d been intimate? She wasn’t in the mood now, but she was gripped by a mixture of heartbreak, love, fury, and a need to have some control over her life.
Marsh gasped as she stood with her hands on her hips and looked him dead in the eye, expressionless. She was channelling this new-found wrath and it felt good.
She could see that he was getting more excited with every minute that passed and his chest rose and fell quickly. It wasn’t like her to take the lead like this, though she’d read about it often.
Not wanting to break the sense that she was in complete control, her eyes darted around the bedroom to find something suitable to spank him with. Something wide that wasn’t going to cause him pain, only a little increased blood flow. Well, maybe a little pain. Her eyes fell on her paddle hairbrush, which had a wide, flat back with smooth, rounded edges. It was just what she needed.
Here goes nothing!
She felt as if she was being stereotypical as she hit her palm with the back of the brush, but it’s all she could think of and he didn’t seem to care. He was staring at her with a twinkle in his eye, and was clearly enjoying it. She walked over to him, and pushed him over onto his stomach. He helped her.
Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. This was quite an interesting feeling. She’d never smacked anyone before, for any reason, but certainly never in this situation. She didn’t give any recovery time in between ‘thwaps’ and his buttock quickly turned a pale pink. Thwap, thwap, thwappp. His flesh was quivering with each clean and decisive smack. The smacks got harder as she gained momentum and confidence.
“OW!” he half-laughed, with his face in his pillow. She couldn’t see his expression, but she didn’t care. It felt amazing for her to be dishing this punishment out to Marsh for what he’d done. His buttock was glowing red by then, and when she held her hand over him, she could feel the heat emanating from it.
Perfect!
She grabbed the belt from her dressing gown and rolled him over onto his back, revealing how much he was enjoying her mastery. She wasn’t sure whether she should be pleased or not.
Using one end of her belt, she tied his hand tightly to the headboard. Not knowing whether the other end of her belt would reach, she was sparing but the belt was plenty long enough to secure both his wrists. He was a willing, silent participant, with a bemused but enthralled expression.
He might well look bewildered. This was well outside of anything they’d ever done. Not that she was unadventurous in her appetites; far from it, she was extremely open-minded. But they had quickly fallen into a pattern of doing what they enjoyed and that which was effective for them both. She hadn’t ever considered restraint and he’d never suggested it, but she was taken with it today, with no planning. Now, there he was, helpless and secured, and she felt better than she had in a while. Although his wrists were tightly tied, the belt was soft and gave slightly, so he was comfortable. She still didn’t want to hurt him, despite all he’d done.
Marsh looked like all his Christmases had arrived at once, although there was an understandable hint of nervousness on his face. It was obvious that he wasn’t entirely sure of her motives, given his behaviour recently, although he was oblivious to the fact that she knew about Maire.
Turning to look at him in only her bra and suspenders, she could see that he was gazing at her and his eyes were popping. She climbed on the bed and hooked one leg over his prone body, straddling him.
He pulled on the restraint hard, trying to get free, but said nothing. Sal imagined that he wanted to put his hands on her hips, but that wasn’t going to happen; she’d done a good job on the knots. She stroked his chest gently, playing with the hair, then moved her hips as she straddled him, and his silence broke.
“Oh Christ, Sal...”
She looked at him with a one-sided smile and, putting a hand on each of his shoulders. She moved gently around, but there was no way she was going any further. That was for her to decide, and today wasn’t about that. She wanted him to miss her, but if he wanted her, he’d have to work for it.
She teased, wriggled, rotated her hips and made sure his eyes were popping for a few minutes. She then climbed off the bed, surprised at how good it felt to have that control over him.
“Wow, where’s all this come from?” Marsh said, breathless and pink in the face, still tightly secured to the bed. She was enjoying his assumption that she was going to give him what he wanted.
“Not sure what you mean?” Sal started putting on her dress again, and glanced at the knots that were keeping him in place. They were holding fast. She watched as his face dropped.
“Wait … where are you going, Sal? SAL?”
She turned, walked out of the room grinning widely, and went downstairs to put the kettle on. She could hear him calling her with increasing fear in his voice for a full 20 minutes while she drank her tea, before she climbed the stairs again. The urge t
o leave him there much longer was powerful, but the girls needed picking up.
“Sal, thank god,” Marsh declared as she walked back into their bedroom. “I thought you were going to leave me here. Please let me out now. I do love you, you know.”
“Come on,” she insisted, ignoring his comments as she untied him. “The girls will be ready for you to pick them up.”
She went downstairs triumphantly, leaving him to dress. The feeling of being in control had remained – and it was growing on her.
*****
The girls squealed as they ran in the front door. Anyone would have thought they were still 12 and 13 the way they headed for the spread on the table. They swiped a paper plate each, and alongside Sal’s amazing home-made sausage rolls, cinnamon whirls and mince pies, they each took handfuls of chocolates, sweets and crisps. Furnished with a glass full of orange squash each to wash it all down, they sat on the sofa, chatting away about their news.
Marsh was wearing a jaunty Santa hat and a big grin as he leaned over to grab a mince pie. Sal sprayed it liberally with cream as he was about to take the first bite. He winked at her.
It wasn’t anything close to a healthy eating evening, but it was Christmas Eve, and the only part of the holiday they all spent together. Now they were older, Blue and Alex managed to exercise some restraint in opening presents, and ate first. It was more relaxing for Sal now it was unlikely that the carpet would end up covered in melted chocolate and luminous orange-flavoured juice.
She looked around watching everyone feasting on the food she’d put together, and it almost felt as if nothing bad had happened. Marsh was sleeping with her in their bed that night, and he had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the festivities. Sal noticed that his mobile was switched off on the sideboard, with his car keys. She didn’t dwell on it. She had a plate of sausage rolls and cinnamon whirls with a glass of wine, as she watched Marsh play Santa. He looked so happy that she almost convinced herself she’d imagined the whole sorry mess.
They had, as always, got the girls the same present so they wouldn’t argue, being so close in age. This year they had a Nokia 3210 mobile phone each, with a full top-up card. Blue was disappointed that she didn’t have a new Tamagotchi, as hers had died in September. Marsh explained that they’d decided on mobiles because he wanted to be able to reach the girls and for them to be safe when they were out clubbing. He pleaded with them not to lose them or drop them down the toilet, because they were expensive. In reality, he didn’t have a clue how much they were because Sal had chosen and paid for both of them.
All four of them laughed, ate, drank and the girls opened presents until there was no carpet visible between the sofa and the tree. Sal was happy, but felt conflicted because it was such a huge contrast to the way things had been recently. She’d bought Marsh a Batman graphic novel and a new game for his PlayStation for Christmas Eve. The game was a major concession because he tended to spend hours at a time on it, when she wanted them to do things together.
Marsh had got Sal a Chemical Brothers CD she’d wanted, and a Travis CD that he loved. Blue was particularly impressed with the first one, and threatened to swipe it before she left the next day.
They ended up watching Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and The Vicar of Dibley, and then played a raucous session of Pictionary, before the girls said they wanted to do their special Christmas bedtime traditions.
Sal switched out the lights in the living room and disappeared into the kitchen. She emerged with a plate bearing two carrots and a mince pie in one hand, and a glass of brandy in the other. Blue put the glass and plate on the fireplace, while Alex adjusted the stockings that were hanging on the chimney breast. As Marsh had done with the girls since they were tiny, they all stood by the fire and started singing Away in a Manger while Marsh strummed his guitar.
Even though the girls were adults now, and had already opened their presents, they insisted on doing this every year. This time, though, Sal welled up as she looked at Marsh standing with his daughters in the dappling light from the fire. She loved those three people more than she had known; they felt like her family and she didn’t want to lose it.
She joined in with gusto and when they finished, she hugged the girls more tightly than usual as she said goodnight. She watched them as they walked upstairs, and she was relieved when Marsh turned to her with a soft expression and put his arm around her in the firelight.
“Let’s go up, too, shall we? I’m knackered,” he murmured.
She gave him the mince pie and brandy to knock back while she took a bite out of one of the carrots, put it back on the plate on the fireplace, and put the other one back in the ‘fridge. After switching off the lights and fire, they climbed the stairs together.
It was going to be a weird Christmas.
9
Sal had eaten far too much over the Christmas period. Attempting to get into her comfiest jeans after wearing leggings for a few days illustrated that much.
“Christ alive, come on,” she muttered at the denim as it clung mercilessly to her skin.
Laying on the bed, she pulled and wriggled, then stood, jumped and swore as she yanked them hard over her hips. She got them up, but the zip wouldn’t close. Still, she had a big jumper to wear over it and as long as the button held out, she’d be fine. She needed to get something fabulous to wear if she was going to go to the New Year’s Eve party the next day.
“I don’t feel much like celebrating, Jess,” Sal had moped as she’d slurped on a hot coffee in her best mate’s kitchen the day before.
“Hey, come on, it’s not as if the millennium is going to happen again for a thousand years or anything. We always said we were going to party like it’s 1999, and I’m not doing it without you.”
“Jesus.” Sal rolled her eyes, but she knew she should celebrate.
Bud, the lead singer of the Exploding Lightbulbs, was holding a big party for the whole crew, and they were both invited. Jess had every intention of going, now she had pretty much recovered from her op. Sal knew that if Jess was going, it was automatically assumed that she would go too. There was no way she’d get out of it. Sal was feeling more positive now, anyway, what with a new year, century and millennium coming. Sal had decided that things that happen once in a blue moon have to be a good thing by default.
“So come on, then,” Jess said as she sat down opposite Sal staring at her expectantly. “I’ve not seen you since before Crimbo. Tell me what happened with Marsh!”
Sal smiled. Trust Jess not to mince her words.
“Ok, well, the girls came on Christmas Eve, as usual, and we had a lovely time, as usual. I spent Boxing Day with Mel, as usual.” She was stringing it out to wind Jess up.
“Come on! What about Marsh?” Jess barked.
“Yes, he stayed over Christmas night. Yes, it was amazing to spend time with him, and it was almost as if nothing had happened. But he’s staying at Doug’s, and I don’t know if he’s still talking to Maire. Yes, he’s being much nicer to me and we’ve met up almost every day since Christmas Day. No, I don’t know how I feel, or what’s going to happen. Is that enough?” She smiled broadly and looked at Jess with one eyebrow raised.
Sal wasn’t annoyed at Jess because she knew how she’d felt when Jess was off doing exciting things. Living vicariously through each other seemed to sum up their enduring friendship.
“How do you feel now, after all that?” Jess frowned as she picked the raisins out of a piece of Christmas cake.
Sal could tell that Jess was trying hard not to let her opinion show. That was some pretty impressive restraint, considering what Jess was like.
“I don’t know,” Sal mused. “I wanted the intimacy as much as he did, but we haven’t slept together fully yet. I can’t. I’d constantly be assuming that he was thinking about her, not me. But I was kind of glad that he made it clear he still finds me sexy. I didn’t see him check his phone or the computer once, so I’m enjoying it, as long as I don’t allow myself to think abo
ut her. If he wants us to stay together, then I need to work out whether I want that, too.”
“So, you’ve basically stuck your head in the sand over Christmas because … it’s Christmas?” Jess looked at her in dismay.
“Well, yes. That’s what you told me I should do, isn’t it?” Sal was confused by Jess’s reaction. “I still love him more than anything, and I can’t get rid of that feeling, but he’s hurt me so badly and I need to see if I can trust him again. And anyway, the girls don’t know anything’s wrong and they’ve been over twice since Christmas Eve, so…”
“Excuses!” Jess exclaimed, giving up on holding back and throwing her cake down on the plate. “I’m furious at Marsh for what he’s done to you, but if he’s not telling Blue and Alex, then he must be intending to come back. Or at least not discounting the possibility? He’s stringing it out so that he can spend time with you and have a bit of the other. Quite frankly, he’s being an utter bastard.”
Sal felt indignant and her cheeks flushed at Jess’s outburst and confusing change of stance. She hadn’t considered that possibility, though.
“Yes, well, it’s not only his decision, is it,” Sal snapped back, her eyes flashing. “Or yours, come to that! He needs to be honest with me. He still hasn’t told me there’s someone else and he doesn’t realise that I know Maire exists.”
“He’ll be hoping you’re in the dark and that he can keep you there. Sam was the same with me at the beginning of our affair, although in the end, I reckon he wanted his wife to know about me.”
“We aren’t married,” Sal muttered.
“Semantics, dear,” Jess sneered, her lip actually lifting in disgust. “You might as well be - you two were more married than most of the married couples I know. You were so sickly smug when you got with Marsh, as if what you had with him was better than anyone else’s relationship. He could do no wrong and would never, ever hurt you. And now he has, you’re letting him get away with it?” she scowled.