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Love, Lust and Landscaping

Page 7

by Morgan Rouge


  She was excited about Phil: he was the nicest man she had met in a long time and she was keen to get to know him, see if he was the man she imagined.

  So all of these feelings and experiences were running through Pony’s mind as she ran through the house to the front door. Full of energy she began to ask as many questions as she could think of.

  ‘Hey Bry, how was work? How was Hamish? Did you speak? Did you talk? Did he kiss you? Ask you out for dinner? Anything...’ Pony’s voice trailed off as Bryony came through the door and shut it behind her. Her face was set in a grimace, she looked unhappy and took to looking at the floor.

  ‘Pony! Why did I waste an entire weekend thinking about him? Why did I do it? Why did I entertain any kind of thoughts about him whatsoever? In fact Pony, why do I waste any time on men at all? They are all selfish, self-serving and so irritating!’ This last particular word Bryony felt it necessary to shout louder than the rest. Men. Were. Too. Much. Hassle. This was the opinion she had reached.

  Pony was shocked: what had gone wrong? She could see that Bryony was not only angry, but she was also extremely upset. She had been embarrassed or disappointed, or something, but Pony could tell something serious had happened.

  ‘Bry come in and sit down. Let’s get the kettle on. Come on, whatever’s happened it can’t be that bad, can it?’

  Bryony thought over the hideous afternoon she had spent with the unbearable Hamish: he was so angry and she was so hurt, so confused. Neither of them could discuss their feelings with each other and neither of them wanted to apparently. They had just avoided each other’s gaze, his face set in a grimace, hers always looking to the ground. Neither ever looking at each other.

  It had started out well. Gerry had made everyone feel guilty over forgetting to raise any money whatsoever for his sponsored walk for the coming Saturday. Hamish and Bryony had looked guiltily at each other, remembering their stolen moments two nights previously. Bryony had thought over that night and she had hoped and thought that Hamish might be also. They didn’t have a chance to speak to each other before lunchtime but every so often Bryony would look over to Hamish and Bryony would sometimes have the sense that Hamish was watching her or at least glancing.

  Bryony had been filled with a huge sense of anticipation towards Hamish: would he speak to her? Did he feel the same about the weekend? Had he thought about her as much as she about him? Indeed, she had spent all weekend day dreaming and thinking of Hamish, of sex, romantic moments and what he thought about lots of different issues. She wanted to get to know him and this filled her with excitement and a sense of really liking Hamish. When would they be able to get to know each other better? Would he ask her out on a date? She didn’t know, but she hoped and prayed that he would.

  Lunch came and went as usual, with everyone heading to Tesco’s in order to buy sandwiches or ready-made pasta. Meanwhile, Bryony sat by herself on the roundabout, eating her sandwiches and day dreaming. I have got to speak to Hamish, she thought, I want to get to know him, I can’t believe how good a dancer he is. She thought again about his body about his muscular frame and commanding dancing moves. This kept her thinking all through lunch imagining them together in various situations: hands locked wandering over a beach, talking over a meal and cycling in the country. She smiled to think of them together.

  Every time she had closed her eyes, she imagined the stolen moments which they had had together on Saturday evening, when she had had no cares in the world, when they had just danced and danced and danced. She longed for those moments when she could feel his body close to hers, his breath on her neck, her nose on his, their hands entwined, her eyes closed, his heavy breathing, the music and lights swirling around them, people jostling them as they too danced. It was intoxicating to think of their time together and her heart beat faster, her hands became sweaty every time she thought about it. Whenever she could, she caught his eye and smiled, and he did the same.

  She felt like a giggling schoolgirl as opposed to a university graduate and translator: why did she get butterflies just thinking about and looking at him. What would Pony think? Generally, Bryony was cooler towards men, perhaps not giving them much of an opportunity, but today, she just wanted to go and kiss him, to caress him, to feel his naked body on hers. The desire for his muscular physique bearing down on her was almost unbearable. She looked around, there was nowhere around where she could drag him to, probably for the best.

  However, as she later explained to Pony sat over a cup of tea in their kitchen, it all changed in the afternoon. Her face had been happy, telling Pony about all her ideas about Hamish, but it had turned sadder as she approached the awful part of the day for her. Just as she said that, Bryony remembered that there was some good news that had happened during the day. Perhaps the only good thing to come out of this day.

  ‘Oh yeh, Pony good news, Declan now works for Hamish on the weekends and days off school. There was a bank holiday today and so Declan was off school so he came to the roundabouts’.

  ‘Really?’ replied Pony

  ‘Yes, from what I can tell, Hamish is not going to tell anyone about Declan’s situation and indeed mine. Also, I get the impression that Declan and Hamish have made some kind of deal’.

  ‘What kind of deal?’ asked Pony.

  ‘I’m not sure, Pony but I think he has to stay off crime and he can continue to work for Hamish. That is what I understood’.

  ‘Oh how wonderful! How amazing of Hamish! Did Declan enjoy it?’

  ‘Yes, he seemed to. He and Hamish were having a good laugh together’. Pony smiled, thinking of Declan finally getting on in life, in having a chance to escape the downward spiral that his parents had given him, but her face changed and returned to Bryony’s problem.

  ‘More of that later, Bryony, but what happened?’

  Bryony cast her mind back to the events of that day: it filled her with confusion, dread and disappointment. To have so much hope, desire, want and dreams for it all to be dragged away in such a mortifying and unfair way! It wasn’t even her fault! And to be blamed for something which wasn’t her idea and something which she had no idea of whatsoever. She had initially been extremely angry for the unfairness of the situation, but slowly she had just been mortified and upset. All anger had left her body and now she just felt vulnerable.

  ‘So they all returned from lunch and Declan was there. He and Hamish have clearly spoken already, so they were getting on really well’.

  ‘Perhaps they were speaking throughout the week?’

  ‘Maybe, I don’t know. Anyway, so I was working and chatting to Gerry, we were talking away. About, well, some family stuff he has got going on at the moment’.

  She realised with a start that she had forgotten about that part of the afternoon: Gerry’s smiling face, laughing and joking as he told her all about his son, Danny. She had never seen Gerry’s face light up so happily as when he spoke about his son.

  ‘Okay, anyway....’

  ‘So, anyway, just before five, Hamish calls me over’.

  ‘I see’.

  ‘Pony I thought he was going to ask me out on a date or something. I thought he was going to say: why don’t we go out this weekend? I thought perhaps this was going to be a relationship that was going to go somewhere! I thought so much about it, about that moment, I thought...’ her voice trailed away, tears in her eyes.

  ‘Bryony..’ said Pony, quietly, stroking her hair.

  ‘Pony I thought it was going to go somewhere. I am just so attracted to him and I have wanted him so desperately!’

  ‘Bryony, I am sure it is something which ...’

  ‘Pony you don’t understand. He had total anger in his face, he had been calm when he called me over: but when he had his back turned to everyone else, his face was livid, it was upset, it was mortified, it was, it felt as though I had cheated on him or something!’

  ‘So, what did he say?’

  ‘He said that Saturday night was a mistake: he never wanted to see me a
gain and he had been stupid to think that anything could ever be between us. He said he never wanted to talk to me again or see me again after this week. Then, he ordered me back to work’.

  ‘What on earth...?’

  ‘Pony, tell me, honestly, was he actually into me on Saturday? It wasn’t just the alcohol, was it? It wasn’t just the bright lights? It wasn’t just my stupid ego?’

  ‘Of course it wasn’t Bryony! I saw it all with my own eyes! He likes you and whatever he is saying now, that cannot have changed! I just don’t believe it at all! Something must have happened?’

  ‘Pony, I have no idea. I can’t make any sense of it. At all’.

  After hugging Bryony for a while, she convinced her to go and have a bath to sooth her, to wash her face, to prise the dirt out of her nails, out of her toe nails, her hair and behind her ears.

  Closing the bathroom door, Pony padded through to the kitchen to think about what had happened. She thought over the events of the week: how could one man change his mind so suddenly? What had he learnt? More importantly, what could she do?

  She stared into space at the kitchen table, with its flowers and leaf design. It was clean and empty, except for her vases and her mobile phone, one she had bought just six months ago and one she loved ....

  That’s it! she thought, of course! Why didn’t I think of that earlier?

  ‘Hi, look it’s Pony, I know, I know, it was good, wasn’t it? Mmmm, I’d love to. But where? Sure. Look, I am phoning about you obviously...’ she giggled ‘but I have another problem at hand’. She paused listening to the person on the other side of the phone and quickly looked around to check that Bryony was safely in the bath. ‘Ok, can we meet, tonight? I have something serious I need to discuss with you. Yeh, that sounds fine. Ok, see you then!’ She hung up the phone and smiled. She would resolve this.

  In the bath, Bryony still felt upset. She was pruned, the makeup she wore was washed off and her dirty clothes were in an untidy pile next to the bath. She felt slightly better when she was under the water as the pressure of the water blocked out her senses, all she could hear was her heart.

  Coming back up to the surface, she tried not to think of Hamish. What could she do tonight except mope around the house, wondering what went so wrong between them?

  She had had so many dreams about him, dreams where all she could think about was him, dreams which they had both definitely been undressed, dreams which she had felt her bare skin on his, dreams which she blushed to think of now.

  How dare he?! How dare he reject her, push her back, tell her he never wanted to see her again. Well she was going to be as cold to him as he was to her. She wouldn’t bother with men every again in her life and she would focus on her career and perhaps on getting a dog. She didn’t need men in her life! Too long had it gone wrong with her for men. That was it! Au revoir spoilers of a good time! From now on in, she was a nun. That was it.

  It was then she heard Pony shout bye! And the sound of the front door click. Where was Pony going? She sat up in the bath and called Pony through the flat. Nothing. Where had Pony gone?

  Sat back down in the bath, she felt a bit peeved. Hamish hadn’t told her what was wrong and now Pony was leaving the flat without telling her where she was going? Bryony, slapped the bath water with her hand. It made satisfying spurts all over the floor and the walls. Maybe she would stay in the bath until Pony returned?

  An hour or so later (she wasn’t sure) she gave up waiting. She would get out, get dried and dressed into her pajamas and watch rubbish on TV. Looking in the mirror as she climbed in the bath, she saw that she had a puffy, unhappy face from crying and that her hair was clinging unattractively to the side of her head.

  Why was Hamish so angry at her? She had trusted him and she had discovered all he was was just an angry man. He was clearly one of those men who tried to take advantage of women for his enjoyment. He wasn’t someone for her.

  She should have known! She thought. To be so good-looking, to have such a good smile, to kiss so well, to be such an amazing sexual dancer: he had to be just a play boy. He was experienced in taking advantage of women, of convincing them that he liked them and taking what was his and leaving it to the side.

  And she blamed herself. She hardly even knew Hamish and already she had assumed that they would get on well, that he would want to speak to her after having sex.

  Well, she thought, it isn’t going to happen anymore. I am not going to fall prey to his ways.

  She made a pact with herself there and then: she would ignore him, refuse to speak to him and keep her dignity. Nobody needed to know about anything. She wouldn’t speak to him anymore and neither would she speak about him, or reference him in anyway.

  It wouldn’t be so difficult. With only four days left, it would be easy to block him out, to forget him and then, come Friday she would probably never see him again. Hopefully.

  And with that, she switched on the kettle and then the TV, vowing never to think about him again.

  Chapter Eight

  All she could see were his eyes: dark and watchful, still and serious. His brow was lowered and his mouth was slightly open. She had said something, she wasn’t sure what, but she felt he had gone from relaxed and quiet to wary and watchful. She made to stand up, he watching her every move, her hands forward for balance as she stood up, eyes on his, waiting for him to move.

  Suddenly, in a flash, he was stood up too, the table between them was gone, his face there. His hands no longer by his side were around the back of his head, his fingers through her hair, fingers massaging her scalp as their mouths met, as their tongues met.

  She felt a surge form through her body, she felt breathless, she felt overtaken with lust. The kiss was strong, powerful, something she couldn’t argue with, yet sensual, she couldn’t stop it and nor did she want to. She raised her chin up and their bodies became closer.

  They were falling, falling, falling, she couldn’t stop it and there behind her was the bed. His body was on top of hers, she could feel the weight of everything of him on her, her legs were apart and between them was him, moving back and forward as he continued to kiss her.

  She lifted up her arms and slowly lifted his apparently wet t-shirt off his body to reveal his bare, hairy and muscular chest. Their kiss ended and they looked into each others’ eyes, sure of what they were going to do.

  His chest was heaving, from passion or exertion she was not sure, but his muscles raised up and down, and small beads of sweat were caught in his fine dark and curly hair.

  His strong hands reached down and started to slowly and steadily open the buttons of her crisp white shirt. Lowering his head, he kissed her navel, and slowly worked his way up as he undid each button until her shirt was completely open and there her breasts sat, nestled in her petite bra. Undoing the front clasp, he took one breast in each and slowly caressing the nipples, he began to kiss her again, even more passionately and even slower.

  Inside her, her body was a river of ecstasy, shouting to him just to take her their and then. Take me take me take me!

  Instead all that elicited from her lips was a soft groan, a pleasured sigh and heavy ecstasy-ridden breathing.

  ‘Mmmmm Bryony’ he responded as he paused quickly before kissing her again. Then he drew his mouth away and began to kiss her down her body, down her breast bone, shoulder blades, her midriff, her navel, and just above the low rise of her jeans. Undoing her top button and zip, he slowly eased her lower body out of her jeans all the while her body shouting this is it take me take this I want you now now now!

  She felt that he could hear her say this that he could hear all her thoughts and naturally, he wanted to tease her. With a small smile on his lips, he took off her small white underpants and put his head between her thighs. This was like nothing she had ever felt. A fire came from between her legs as he licked and touched her, rubbing his hands up and down her svelte cream thighs. ‘Oh, Hamish! She moaned, her body arching as he continued to pleasure her, he
r hands clasping at the bed sheets, stretching her arms, her hips wide apart ready for his strong and...

  With a shudder Bryony suddenly woke up and sat up to find herself sweating under the covers in bed. Taking in deep breaths of cold air, she felt light-headed with the exertion of her dreams. It had been an intense dream.

  Try as she might, she had been trying all week to get Hamish out of her mind but the truth was, she just couldn’t stop thinking about him, about his body, his mind, his good looks, his moments of sensitivity, his dancing skills, his sense of humour.

  Why did he suddenly hate her?

  She just did not understand and still felt hurt to the core about it. The entire week at the flower beds he had ignored her, been angry towards her and shouted at her. Even the other criminals had noticed how horrible he was being to her and were starting to suspect that something occurred between Bryony and Hamish which, perhaps, they had not been aware of.

 

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