by Coco Houston
“Move, Coco! Move! I don’t want us to be late,” he says very clearly but in a quiet voice.
“For what? Late for what? Why are you whispering?” I ask curiously, to which I receive no answer. He about turns, lifts his wallet with the car keys, and then flies out the room, running back down the wooden stairs. I follow shortly behind without the jeans and jumper on. My parents are in the kitchen making supper for us all, as is situ, when Brad informs them we would be out for a while; before they have time to absorb the news or even ask where or why, Brad grabs me by the hand rushing me out the door into the jeep, thus leaving my parents standing looking astonished at this new development in our plans so late at night.
Brad drives quickly through the night. I enquire again as to where we were heading, he acknowledges me this time but explains very little in his answer,
“I am taking you on magical mystery tour,” he says secretly, smiling over at me. I laugh.
“Get out of here!” I respond loudly, laughing some more. He doesn’t even smirk.
“No way!” I shout at him whilst continuing to laugh at the very thought.
“Yes way!” He returns with a look on his face of real seriousness in his statement. I stop laughing.
“Where have you planned to take me then? Am I going to Hogwarts? To Aldovia? (A land ruled by the Christmas Prince.) Or The Shire? Or Rivendell (Lord of the Rings)? Or maybe to a land made out of cake and sweets? Or am I going into the woods to see a real Big Foot MOOONNNSSSSTTTTEEERR?” I tease him and at the end of the sentence I raise the volume of my voice to create an effect as I pretend to look like a monster. Whatever that is.
He takes his eyes off the road for a second as he nods to me. “I don’t know if we shall see the monster tonight, but we sure are going to look for it!” he says with confidence. Once more I stop playing around as I can see that he fucking means what he said.
The car comes to a halt and as I hadn’t been paying attention, I have no idea where we were. Brad gets out of the car, I follow him. We are down at the Caledonian Canal in Fort Augustus, at the beginning of Loch Ness. He walks over towards the pier side, where a man is standing down the way; he is dressed in dark clothes, waving his hands in the air, trying to attract Brad’s attention. Brad sees him, and then waves back.
“Hurry up, Coco, and be very careful,” Brad says taking my hand; he pulls me behind him as he marches on ahead. Even more unsure now, I try to pull away from him, he resists my tugging to free myself by tightening his grip, and he just walks on even faster towards the man, ordering me to behave in the dim light. As we approach the man gets on a boat, one of the tourist ferries that go up and down Loch Ness. Brad halts and I bang into him from behind, then I stand staring at him, asking him unspoken questions with my eyes. He speaks first, actually.
“Would you please get on the boat, Coco?” I think I hear him say to me; I am stricken, totally shocked. He knows I hate boats. I fucking hate deep water. I am frantic, I panic big time, wondering if he honestly meant what he said, it was a joke, right? Trembling, I feel my legs wouldn’t hold me; I am so light-headed that I get the impression I am going to pass out with fear. I start breathing steadily, trying to think about this rationally, I began to debate whether we should be going out on that loch or not, especially at the time of night. I decide it is crazy, even more so because I assumed that nobody but us knew we were going out there or was even aware of the fact that the boat was being used. Everything seemed to be so secretive.
“NO!” I tell Brad. “Fucking no chance and that is it!” I reinstate quite clearly.
The man comes over to the side of the boat.
“OH! C’mon now, Coco, I’m Jerry, yer all right to be sure, tis safe as houses. Now would I be going mesel if it weren’t?” he says jokingly.
Brad is already on the boat, and I am numb with disbelief, wondering how he can do this to me.
“NO! NO! AND NO!” I shout even louder at them both this time.
“Coco, get on the boat please, darling, this has cost me a small fortune tonight,” Brad pleads.
“’Tis to be sure!” Jerry interrupts.
“You will love this, trust me,” Brad informs me smiling, also holding out his hand to me as Jerry, with both of his hands grasping the edge of the boat, stands squinting his eyes watching us.
“For a while thee night, Coco, well ye see to tell ye, Brad has hired mesel ‘n’ this boat! Now Mhuirnin that cost few pennies, but ye don’t want to come, well then it makes no difference to me, a still get me money. Worked these boats for many a year ‘n’ niver got a request to take a lady up the loch at midnight or someone paying into the bargain fir my whole vessel fir jist one, Coco!” he says in an Irish accent.
“Now c’mon, Coco, get on the bloody thing, yer all right, yer jist acting daft, now c’mon Mhuirnin be optimistic lass,” he coaxes me.
“Coco, baby, come on! You will love it, I know you will darling!” Brad begs me.
This is my worst fucking nightmare!
Shaking I get on the boat, basically I feel that I have no choice but to do so. As the boat starts up and turns to go up the loch, I am shaken, both angry with Brad yet terrified of the depth of the water at the same time. Brad takes me down below the deck, underneath there is a sitting area, it is unexpectedly cosy, with a nice atmosphere. Behind a bar in the corner there is a young man working away, he looks up over at us then smiles warmly,
“Well, hello there! Welcome, Coco, I’m Jake, so ye came on all right, ye came out on our boat after all, did ye?” he says in the same accent as Jerry.
“Yes,” I smile slowly. He comes towards us carrying a silver tray on which sits a bottle of champagne with two crystal champagne glasses and a single white rose.
“Well, yer man here, to be sure, has ordered two of the best bottles in the house tonight!”
He sits the glasses down, pops the cork, and then pours out the champagne, and then he gives Brad the rose, which he then hands to me. The petals are so delicate with its scent so light. Brad and Jerry are looking at me, I smile, saying “Thank you” to them both.
“Cheers to ye both ’n a hope to be sure the lord gives ye a lot of happiness,” Jake says, walking away, as he goes he is singing the lyrics of an old Irish song. Story of a woman whose eyes sparkled like diamonds and she wore her hair tied up in a band made of black velvet. It is a very beautiful song and his voice is incredible.
“I love you, Coco,” Brad says, kissing me. We hold our glasses up in a toast to us before we drink the champagne. It is lovely; in fact, it is up there with the best I have had, but then again mostly you only get what you pay for. After we finish the bottle I begin to relax, I forget how initially scared I was as bravely yet quite happily enough I go back up the stairs, out on to the open air top deck with Brad. The night is so untouchably beautiful, the stars in their presence shine as proud as ever, it is so peaceful out on the calm water of the loch. The boat suddenly stops and all the lights immediately and inexplicably go out. It is pitch black on the loch but before I get time to panic further asking why, Brad quickly explains, then to confirm his story he reassuringly hands me a packet of chocolate chip cookies. He tells me that I have to fling them out on the loch at midnight for Nessie, she really likes them, he confides in me, continuing to say that not a lot of people knew that. He says Jerry and Jake had told him this, it is their secret and they often come out here to this very same spot just to feed them to her. Whereupon sometimes Nessie comes up to the surface to eat them, but only sometimes. Only on the very odd occasion does she ever come right up out of the water, showing herself unreservedly just to say, “Hello and thank you!” I smile at him. That is such a wonderful fantasy story. It is so sweet and heart rendering that he makes me completely forget my fears of the deep water.
“Well, maybe she will come up tonight,” I whisper back. “So I better feed her these cookies just in case,” I reply excitedly. I fling the large whole chocolate chunk cookies into the water one by one. The boa
t stays put as Jerry and Jake come sneaking up onto the deck. There we all stand so quietly as we wait for Nessie to appear in the dark and claim her cookies. She doesn’t come. Jake sings a song to tempt Nessie up to the surface of the water. It is another old Irish song as he sings about getting older and how wishes take place of your dreams. As his clear soulful voice echoes hauntingly through the night way out across the loch to the bay, I drink my second bottle of champagne. He sings on just for her, “If wishes were fishes he knows where he would be. Casting out those nets into a dark sea and if the net was empty, when he hauled it ashore, then nets would be thrown away as he would not go fishing anymore.” The sorrowful song filled with woe he sings on but still she doesn’t come up.
As Jerry with Jake goes back below deck Brad holds my hand. As the lights come on, slowly the boat starts to move away, sadly I whisper “So long” to Nessie. Brad puts a little silver Celtic band on my finger; it only cost three pounds but it is stunning in design. He had bought it at a little shop at Fort Augustus just at the beginning of the loch, where once a long time ago he got me a teddy bear wearing blue tartan, it matched the other one he bought me way before then dressed in a chocolate tartan kilt. I looked down at the ring, smiling both at it and subtle memory of the bears. He promises he would take the ring into the goldsmiths’ shop when we get home and get a replica of it handmade in twenty-two carat gold. He probably would, I think as the boat comes into dock. I am so glad to get my feet back on dry land; it is not until I have done so that the fear of the deep water hits me all over again. I shake Jerry then Jake’s hands in farewell. As we walk back to the car, Jake is singing in the distance, as he ties up their boat for another while, I can hear the words of Danny Boy coming home when summer was in the meadows as I close the jeep door. As I look over at Brad, I am shaking, I can never do that again, never go out on that loch again, not for a million pounds. But do you know what? I never saw the monster but I will never forget that night for the rest of my life.
Brad starts the car engine whilst I glance back at the loch; the stillness of it makes me shiver again. On leaving the boat behind, I am delighted on heading back to our log cabin; I am so distracted in thought as Brad pulls in at the side of the road, stopping the jeep, he gets out. I follow him curiously in the dark but I don’t question him as he goes down the rugged embankment, roughly edging his way through the trees to the border of the water. At the bottom of a steep hill he’d reaches what looks like a little shore made of pebbles with sand; quietly we both just sit down on it, this time waiting in anticipation at the side of Loch Ness for Nessie to appear. Although, of course, we both see movement with ripples in the water it isn’t her, it makes the loch look so eerie but strangely magical under the moonlight as a while longer we sit but still Nessie never comes. Brad pushes me backwards to lay me down on the uneven sand, I feel the rocks jagging into my back as he kisses me before climbing on top of me; thus now with his added weight, it pushes my back even deeper into the stones, further hurting me. I can’t be fucked with this, especially not right now anyway, feeling him growing harder as he starts to pull at the top of my PJs’ trousers so he can put his hand in to play with me, I abruptly push him half off as I try to sit up, “There she is!” I shout, “She is over there, IN THE WATER, BRAD!” I scream pointing at the loch over the top of his head. Brad in shock gets up as if struck by lightning as he gets off me quicker than he got on; he stands up hurriedly, pulling his trousers back up whilst staring out over the loch. With as much speed, possibly faster than him, I get off my arse, running as fast as I can back up through the trees towards the jeep. Brad follows, running behind me laughing, still with half an erection in his trousers, he is shouting obscenities as he chases me, knowing he’s been had.
We sneak easily enough back into our abode, we go creeping to start with, bringing no bother, but on the way to our bedroom, the noise we made banging about and giggling is awful, surprisingly enough though my parents stay asleep or pretend to be. I am very happy as while kissing we strip each other, both of us naked tumble onto the bed, and then we snuggle in together. I touch my finger in the dark, smiling secretly, declaring to myself that I am more than contented with him in a strange way tonight. I feel the ring on my finger just as plainly, as for the second time tonight; I feel Brad’s hard cock on my leg, this time it is throbbing against my bare skin.
19th October
We have all got up very early as usual, sadly yet quickly packing up our belongings. This morning we are leaving the log cabin, heading for home nostalgically as our holiday is over. It has been quite romantic holiday for Brad and me, considering everything else that appeared to be underlying in our relationship. Perhaps it was because my parents were here with us, who knows really? Just Brad, I guess, maybe because inside our head we tell ourselves lies, I suppose, other stories we all make up, wishing to believe and to pass as the truth.
The journey home passes just inconclusively, suddenly we are there, then on entering the cold, dark place, I, like it, just feel empty inside, but not for long though as I soon realise that all the ghosts of the past few months have also returned to the house along with me.
22nd October
It is exactly two years that have since passed by, that on this date I started to write my diary for my manuscript, lying sprawled along my lounge floor. Brad came in unexpectedly that day, I gave him oral sex in my bedroom, then afterwards whilst downstairs making me some coffee, and he informed me that he had told his wife he was leaving her in the morning. I still feel as anxious right now as I did back then. I just close my eyes and I am right back there in that night, feeling so distinctly every single raw emotion all over again as if it was only yesterday.
23rd October
So now it is exactly two years to date today since Brad left his wife, just as he promised that he would. He had left her in in his hometown as we left Ayr; we went to York to Megan’s house. It is a strange atmosphere in my world today as I remember that time hour by hour, remembering every fucking single detail just like I did yesterday too, feeling the sharp hurt slicing through memories like a knife going through butter, as I take myself back in time. I rush upstairs to be physically sick, I feel awful as sour stomach contents spurts out of my mouth, landing all over the bathroom floor. I clean up the stinking mess, realising that now I am as nervous at the thought of having sex with him tonight as I was back then, if not more so. I feel hopeless, lost and not sure of anything anymore. Brad takes the little Celtic band off my finger today. It is taken into the goldsmiths’ shop to be used as a mould to have another one made for me in 22ct gold. , .
25th October
We have a special night out tonight with old friends of Brad. My outfit is very expensive as is my appearance fool proof, which had to be it for him. The hotel, the wine with the food is excellent; consequently, we have a nice evening, but only up until the journey back home in his friends’ car. Then, fuelled by alcohol, Brad begins to start another one of his fucking arguments with me, it is about nothing in particularly yet still he goes on showing off. Whereupon reaching the house we both get out of the car, Brad continues his nonsense, wanting to argue more with me. I answer him back with some home truths, which he finds hard to swallow; on losing his stance by getting beaten verbally in front of this guy, his answer is to just hit me in the street. He takes his hand off my face so hard that he knocks me backwards on to the road. This is the second time he has hit me in public; I am shocked, tears stream down my face with the force he hit me, I can’t believe what had just happened. He gets back in the car, as it is heading back to his hometown he goes with it. I go inside, locking the front door behind me, he can stay out all fucking night if he wanted. I have a bath and remove my make-up gently; my face and eye are red and stinging with the heat of the slap. We have no Chinese food for supper; we share no bottles of our wine as planned. He goes back drinking in a bar in his hometown, stupidly I sit alone, wondering where and when this so-called relationship had gone so wrong. Th
e fucking answer is simple really – it had never been fucking right to start with – I think on looking down at my little dog called Versace, who is sitting happily beside me. I lift him up as he tries to comfort me by licking me and snuggling into me with his soft fur-covered body, which is so warm, he smells like a brand new pure wool carpet. This tiny dog is real love; my other little dogs come over to join us as we all sit in the darkness waiting for Brad. Waiting for what? Why are we all sitting waiting for him? I realise that in my life these three little boys are my real soulmates, these are my little heroes, not that clown Brad Blake. Tears run down my sore face as I hold my little Chihuahuas. I sadly smile thinking of our trip up Loch Ness, which was just a few nights back; it seems to me now that our love was just a dream, one from so long ago.
Maybe I should have fucking flung Brad in the water for Nessie to eat and ate the fucking chocolate cookies myself. No. I change my mind, if she ate him then she would surely die of food poisoning, I smirk in the dark, pleased with myself at my own analysis of that hypothetical situation.
I take my little dogs to the kitchen with me as I make coffee, they have some hot milk, and then between us all we eat the large bag of chocolate buttons before going to bed. Let Brad Blake come rolling in drunk, let him arrive home bringing the cows in for milking with him or better still, perhaps, is to hope that the cows come in for milking alone and Brad Blake doesn’t come back home at all.
26th October