‘Hayfever.’
‘Look, I’m sorry about our conversation earlier, but I’ve been feeling crap and fed up myself.’
This seems to animate her somewhat. ‘Why? What’s the matter?’
I decide I’ll put it on a bit about Niall. Maybe if I let her know my world isn’t perfect she won’t feel so bad, or if she is out to ruin me, it’ll put her off. ‘Me and Niall aren’t getting along so well at the moment.’
‘Really? I didn’t pick that up from him in the car. Maybe he’s just tired from work.’ She hesitates a moment. ‘You don’t think he’s having an affair, do you?’
‘No.’ I am shocked by this statement. ‘Nothing like that. He likes to watch TV all evening and Joe’s getting to sleep later and later these days, so it’s just hard.’
‘Or not as the case may be,’ she sniggers.
I smile. The lack of sex in my life seems to have cheered her up a bit, at least. Great, glad it’s of use to someone.
‘You can join my boat. Danny’s put me off men for a long time. So right now, the only one getting any is Monique with Dr Love.’
‘That she is, lucky bitch,’ I state.
‘So how is Monique by the way?’
‘I’ve not seen her for about a week.’
‘Oh? That’s not like you.’
‘I was poorly yesterday, remember? So couldn’t make it to see her.’
‘Such a shame. I know you love your coffees.’
Mrs Sullivan comes in at that point wearing a black suit and red shoes. ‘Get her,’ says Bettina.
‘Right, last minute checks ladies and gentlemen,’ she says. ‘If you can set up your stalls as much as is practical. We’ll do it here in the hall though rather than outside. Should the weather turn against us we’ll have to bring it indoors anyway.’
I glance around the room looking for Seb, but he’s not here.
I spend the next half hour dragging out the stocks, setting them up and practising opening and closing them. I get a sponge and pretend to throw it. Our posters are finished and there is nothing left to do. We’re ready for the fair. I put everything away and check to see if Bettina needs any help but she doesn’t. Her books just need boxing up for display, and she’s done a great job of sorting them into genres and alphabetical order for easy selection. The rest of the meeting passes quickly. We say our goodbyes and head home.
As I walk to the car I feel let down and disappointed. I look down at my outfit, black skinny fit jeans, a red bat-sleeved cotton top and black ballet slippers. I’d tied my hair in a side ponytail. I look casual, yet cool, but it’s been a waste of time. The person I’d hoped to look attractive for; the one person I could count on to boost my confidence, even if he was a bit of a man slut, wasn’t there. I open the car door to go home.
‘Did you miss me?’
‘Arrrrrrrrrrrgh.’ My heart beats frantically. ‘Oh my fucking God, you idiot,’ I screech, and smack my fists into Seb’s chest.
He lifts his hands. ‘Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Scare me? You’ve taken ten years off my life expectancy at least. What did you think would happen if you snuck up on me?’
‘I didn’t think I was sneaking up on you. I thought you’d seen me and were ignoring me.’
‘I looked up the road before I crossed to see if there were cars coming. I wasn’t paying attention to bloody pedestrians.’
‘Well you should, one of them could be an attacker and you wouldn’t be able to give a description.’
I thought back to Danny surprising me in much the same way on Saturday and decided I wasn’t getting in my car again without an attack alarm firmly in my hand.
‘Where were you tonight then?’
His cool brown eyes bore into mine. ‘I’ll tell you if you drive us to the pub.’
I hesitate, the keys swinging in my hand. I think of the alternative, going home and talking to myself. ‘Oh, go on then.’
We walk into the Queen’s Head and I insist on buying the drinks as he bought them last time. I don’t want to feel I owe him anything. At the bar I try and stand so my backside sticks out a little and I add a little wiggle to my walk as I return with the drinks. We sit in the same seats as before, and I think how much calmer he is now compared to the idiot I had spoken to in here just two weeks ago.
‘So what happened to you tonight then?’
‘Truth? I couldn’t be arsed. I’d had enough of school today, the kids were total twats. I practically ran out at home time. I told Mrs S. I’d got a migraine.’
‘I had to lug all the sponge stocks around to set them up cos you didn’t show.’
‘You keep making out you’re an independent woman, Mrs Lawler, I’m sure you were fine.’
‘That’s not the point.’
‘You missed me,’ Seb beams at me.
I feel my cheeks flush. ‘Don’t be stupid.’
‘You did, you missed me,’ he jumps up and does a twirly dance. ‘She missed me, she missed me.’ It reminds me of when Tom Cruise went bonkers on Oprah. The other pub residents either try their best to not look, or give him a dirty look to indicate it’s not suitable behaviour for this class of establishment.
‘Seb, sit down,’ I hiss.
He does and grabs his pint. ‘How long have you been with your husband?’
I feel a whoosh like a popped balloon as I realise that is where I should be, at home with my husband, not here with Seb acting like some teenager with a crush. I decide I will tell him just how much I love my husband and go home.
‘We’ve been together twelve years,’ I say. ‘We met when I was nineteen and he was twenty-nine, in a bar in Sheffield City Centre. I thought I was grown up and he still acted like a kid, so the age difference didn’t matter. I found out I was pregnant with Joe at twenty-two and Niall said he was about to propose anyway, so we eloped to the Registry Office.
‘Weren’t your parents mad?’
‘I have nothing to do with my parents, and that’s a subject that’s not open for discussion. Ever.’
‘Okay, sorry. So you and Niall have been married ten years?’
‘It’ll be eleven in August, not long after my thirty-second birthday. How old are you anyway?’
‘How old do you think I am?’
‘Twelve.’
‘Ha ha. I was thirty-five last November. Now stop changing the subject.’ His voice lowers huskily, ‘Are you happy Lauren? I can’t work it out. You say so, but then you’re here with me.’
‘Yes. I love my husband. If you’re waiting to hear that I don’t, you’re going to be disappointed.’
‘I’m disappointed.’
My mouth curves at the edges. ‘You are so good for my ego, Seb Kingsley.’
‘I could be good for a lot more.’
‘Don’t.’ I put my finger across his lips. They are soft to the touch and he looks at me. The feeling is too intimate. He opens his mouth and my finger falls onto his tongue. He closes his lips and sucks lightly, circling my finger with his tongue. I feel a pulse between my legs and butterflies in my stomach. I withdraw my hand.
‘You’re going to go now, aren’t you?’ he says.
‘No,’ I reply. ‘I’m not.’ I take my finger and run it around the rim of my glass. I don’t know which of us is more surprised by my answer.
We chat for another thirty minutes or so, and then I say that I really will have to leave. Outside the pub, Seb offers to walk me to my car, his own being parked nearer to the school.
I look up at him. ‘No, I can walk back myself.’
‘You don’t have to be scared of me, Lauren.’
We end up walking beside each other as we pass houses, some with curtains open. Some of the kids from school live around here, and I feel like I’m on display. I waffle on about complete nonsense the whole way to the car, trying to diffuse the tension between us.
He runs his hand through his hair. ‘Well nig
ht, Lauren. Thanks for coming for the drink.’
I sigh. ‘I just don’t know what to do with you. I like you, you could be a good friend, but nothing else Seb, nothing can happen between—’
I’m not finished as his lips touch mine. I thought feeling sparks of electricity were a cliché but I feel them zip through my body. Seb runs his hands up the back of my top, causing me to shiver. He takes this as I’m feeling cold and wraps his arms further around me. I should be protesting, I should be backing off, but his warm mouth feels so good against mine, and I’ve missed this kind of tender touch. I need it. Seb backs me up against the car door. His tongue fights to get between my lips and I allow it. A small moan escapes me and I kiss him back, my tongue entwining with his. He breaks the kiss, backs away from me and smiles.
‘Friends then,’ he says, ‘I’ll see you around Mrs Lawler,’ and just like that, he leaves me hanging.
Chapter 9
I sit in the car, unable to drive as adrenaline takes over and I begin to shake. I can’t believe what I’ve done, but I can’t lie, at the moment I don’t regret it. I feel alive. I relive the kiss in my head over and over and feel the wetness pool between my legs. I wanted to carry on kissing him, it was divine; like sucking on the most succulent strawberry. I pull down the windshield and look at myself in the mirror, expecting to see a bedraggled harlot, but I look exactly the same, with only a few wisps of hair out of place. I re-tie my ponytail, start the engine and begin to drive home. As I turn at the end of the road I see a parked Mazda five at the corner on the opposite side. It’s him. He flashes me twice with his indicators and I roar off, leaving him behind.
When I get home, I pop my head around the door. ‘I’m back,’ I state breezily.
‘You’re late; you missed Joe going to bed. Thought you’d be back by seven thirty-ish, it’s nine.’
‘Sorry, some of us went to the pub after. I should’ve called.’
‘Nah, don’t worry. We had a good time together, played scrabble. He’s getting quite good at it now.’
‘Well I’ve got some stuff to sort out on the computer so I’m going straight up.’
‘You’ve had a busy day with the school and the little empire,’ he laughs. ‘It must be exhausting.’
I bristle at his stab at humour and go upstairs to bed where I continue to replay the kiss in my head until I fall asleep.
It’s a few moments after waking before the memories of the night before hit me. I berate myself for what I did. What an idiot I am. I turn over and see Niall laid next to me, his head on the pillow with his mouth open, dead to the world. Strange snorting noises come out of his nose. His elbow is pointing out from the pillow, an annoying sleeping habit of his that drives me mad. If I turn around in sleep I’m often awoken by being elbowed in the face. I lie there for several minutes, looking at my husband and wondering why I’ve felt the need to kiss another man. It can’t be justified by the fact that I have an overwhelming need to be adored, to feel that someone cares. Niall provides for our family, showing he cares every day. I am being selfish wanting more. I lay back and stare at the ceiling, wondering what I’m going to do about my actions, but I’m interrupted by the buzzing of the alarm clock. I switch it off and get out of bed, back to the morning routine.
Back from school I text Monique.
Emergency.
She texts back.
I have some time owing. I can get out for twelve-thirty. We arrange to meet at Etta’s. I spend the next three hours watching the clock go round.
‘So what’s the great emergency, then? Better not be because you’ve forgotten my rules and bought eight identical v-neck t-shirts in different colours.’
I stick out my tongue. ‘You’re so funny. Thank God you could meet me.’
‘I was bored out of my brains. I’d have met you if you were just hungry.’
‘Well, I wish I was just hungry.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I snogged Seb.’
Monique starts laughing. ‘Is that all? This is you, Mrs needs attention, who hasn’t been getting any, then a cute guy comes along and wants in your pants. I’m not the slightest bit surprised.’
My face falls. ‘I’ve not done anything like this before.’
‘That’s because Niall generally comes around and there isn’t a stud muffin waiting in the wings. Did you nearly have sex?’
‘God, no.’
‘Well then, what’s the problem? It was just a snog.’
‘The problem is that I feel guilty about it, but don’t regret it. It was amazing,’ I snap.
‘And this is Joe’s teacher next year? Shame Joe’s an angel really. You won’t get kept back after school.’
‘Can you not take anything seriously?’
‘I’m trying to balance you, you take things too seriously. Look, are you going to snog him again?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Well then, no harm done, and you’ve had a bit of fun. Can we eat now?’
Sometimes Monique can be really supportive and other times, like today, she just doesn’t understand. I wonder what her relationship with Toby was like. She doesn’t talk about him much, but I’m guessing it made her build walls because she’s kept every relationship since really light. Our cheese and onion toasties arrive. I’m ravenous and dive straight in. Monique smells hers and pulls a face. ‘This smells weird,’ she says. ‘I’m not eating that.’
I pull her plate towards me and have a smell. ‘Mon, there’s nothing wrong with it,’ I say. ‘It smells fine.’
She takes a bite and pulls a face. ‘’I’ll get some crisps.’
‘You are beyond weird,’ I state. ‘Were you perhaps drinking with Dr Love last night? Mon?’
‘Sorry, I was miles away. No. He was working yesterday afternoon and the same tonight. I might not see him until Monday. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. Actually I’m starting to feel a bit shit, I think after here I’ll go to bed.’
‘You okay?’
‘Yeah, fine, its working at that damn hospital with all those bloody bugs.’
I finish my sandwich and we leave, Monique gives me a peck on the cheek and a hug. As we part she whispers, ‘One more snog wouldn’t hurt.’
I get home and clean the house from top to bottom, pushing my body through scrubbing at marks on walls and floors, and ignoring the fact that if I wasn’t feeling so guilty I wouldn’t be doing this. I wonder if I’ll see Seb when I fetch Joe from school. I don’t usually but will he make it happen? I bet I’m another notch now, just one he had to work a bit harder for, and now he’s cracked it.
I crash onto the settee throwing off my cardigan as I’m so damn hot from rushing around. I grab a hair tie from the coffee table and fasten my hair into a bun at the back of my head. My chest is pumping up and down through the exertion. I grab the laptop and log on to catch up on mail. I have a Facebook friend request from a Mr Uri Kent. I fire a message back. ‘Your name is offensive. Do I know you?’
Later, I log back on to find another message from Mr Kent. ‘I think you know me quite well, especially my tongue.’
Jesus, it’s him. I accept his friend request and set up a private group between us. ‘For goodness sake post your messages here where no-one can see them.’
‘A secret group? So I can say what I want and no-one but us knows? I like it.’
A few minutes passes.
‘Are you anticipating my messages?’
I squirm on the settee, guilty.
‘I loved the feel of my tongue in your hot mouth. Entering your warm parts and feeling you writhe against me. You had goose bumps on your arms.’
There’s another pause then,
‘Did you feel me get hard as I pushed you against the metal? You revved my engine.’
He logs off.
Monique calls me later, unusual after we’ve seen each other so recently. ‘Are you feeling alright now?’ I ask.
‘Yeah fine, not sure what that was all abo
ut,’ she says. ‘Anyway what are you doing Friday night and Saturday day?’
I stretch my unoccupied arm. ‘Nothing much, I’ve kept them clear cos the school fair’s on Sunday and I know I’ll be busy.’
‘I’ve found a cheap London break, only sixty pounds each, including travel. Wondered if you fancied an overnight?’
I smile. ‘Oh my, yes, that would be fabulous. Let me check with Niall.’
I go downstairs and ask Niall, who has no problems with it. ‘Abandoning me again to spend my money, eh?’
My jaw sets. ‘I’ll not go if you don’t want.’
‘Don’t be daft, I’m joking. Get yourself off.’
I rush back upstairs. ‘I can go. What time are we leaving?’
‘Train station at eleven. I’ve taken annual leave for Friday, so we can have all of Friday afternoon and come back on the two-thirty train Saturday. You’ll be back in time for tea.’
‘I can’t wait,’ I say, suddenly excited by a couple of days away from Sexy Seb and the maybe Bonkers Bettina.
‘I know, we haven’t been away for ages,’ she says. ‘Get ready for ...’
‘Chaos,’ we shout in Unison.
All of our previous minibreaks have endured some drama or another. Monique blames me every time. She says that for all my organisational skills, when it comes to mini-breaks, I lose the plot. She says I attract chaos like Uri Geller bends spoons, it’s a phenomenon. The last time we went away, I realised at the station that the tickets had been booked on a card that had expired. After a trip to Customer Services, who said I had to ring the ticket issuer, we got the tickets with three minutes to spare. Then there was the time we went to a country retreat and I attempted to turn the car around, not realising it was on a one way system. It was winter, and I got the car stuck partway in a drainage ditch, causing the traffic to come to a halt until the site tractor could pull us out. We term these moments my ‘chaos’. I am determined this time there will be no such thing. Monique has booked the trip this time after all, so I’m cleared for that.
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