Truestory
Page 14
‘. . . only it got a bit burnt . . .’
His hands slid to my hips and he pulled me against him.
‘Alice, you’re lovely,’ he said, and I could feel the heat of his breath in my hair. ‘So fucking lovely.’
I put down the pan and was about to turn to him when we heard Duncan’s footsteps heading back to the kitchen door.
Larry stepped away.
‘I’ll be in the polytunnel at milking time,’ he said, and I nodded.
Chapter 23
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Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
Truestory
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.20
I am afraid of something that cannot happen but my stomach hurts and my legs are shaking and I cannot stop thinking about it.
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
SpiritLove
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.24
Hi Truestory, I think we’ve talked about the power of the mind before. My booklet on this and other visualisation techniques is still available on our Spirit&Soul website, or purchased here for only $2.50. Plus p&p. Truestory, use affirmations. Say every day: ‘I am fearless’ and mean it. Put your shoulders back, look yourself in the eye and say ‘I am fearless’. We are here at the Spirit&Soul Spiritual Community to help you on your spiritual journey!
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
NoShitSherlock
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.28
I can guarantee the minute you let your guard down some bastard’ll bite you on the arse. Stay scared Truestory!!
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
Fizzy Mascara
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.30
It’s common sense to be scared. It’s only the idiots who aren’t scared.
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
JC
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.33
The devil is making you fearful. Offer your fear to God. If He is with you you can come to no harm.
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
NoShitSherlock
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.37
Joking apart, Truestory, you’ve gotta face that fear! Fear is always worse than the reality.Go face it now!!
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
Truestory
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.38
I have faced it – Larry took a picture down the well with his smart phone and it is full of soil and rubble and I could not fall into the burning centre of the earth but it has not stopped me shaking when I think about it.
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
NoShitSherlock
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.41
Okkkaaaaayyy!! wot else you scared of?
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
Truestory
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.44
Going in the poly tunnel because it is as hot as a whore’s arse in there and it’s dirty and it smells funny.
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
NoShitSherlock
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.44
You kill me Truestory!!!!
Re: Why am I frightened of something that cannot happen?
ChocolateMoustache
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 16.50
I’ve heard of people writing their fears down and burying them or burning them. Watching your fears disappearing into the ground or going up in smoke can help you overcome them.Good luck, Truestory!!
U Chat
Private Message to NoShitSherlock
15 June 2014 Time: 17.48
* * *
Truestory
Dear NoShitSherlock, Thank you for your advice about facing my fears. However, I am concerned that you say I ‘kill’ you. I am checking with you that your use of the word ‘kill’ is a ‘Figure of Speech’ – possibly hyperbole. I believe you are using the word in a way that departs from its customary meaning. Am I correct?
U Chat
Private Message to Truestory
15 June 2014 Time: 17:57
* * *
NoShitSherlock
There you go again! You’re a funny guy Truestory.
You been in that place that’s hot as a whore’s arse yet!! Get in there Truestory. Go for it!!!
U Chat
Private Message to NoShitSherlock
15 June 2014 Time: 17.58
* * *
Truestory
My heart rate has been more than 120 beats a minute for several hours today and my palms have been sticky. The internet calls this the ‘fight or flight response’, but I did not fight anything or fly anywhere. I got under my quilt.
Experiencing the ‘fight or flight response’ under your quilt does not feel good. I think you are right. It is better to face your fears.
Ps.
SpiritLove recommended ‘Affirmations’. Wikipedia says: ‘Affirmations are carefully formatted statements to be repeated.’ I repeated ‘I am fearless’ twenty times, but it is not a truestory. I am not fearless which means ‘Affirmations’ are lies.
Chapter 24
Duncan was milking; I could hear the hum of the milking parlour. Larry was waiting in the polytunnel and I was going out to meet him.
We hadn’t spelled it out, it seemed too mean, but we both knew Larry had suggested the polytunnel because Sam was too frightened to go in. I felt bad about using Sam’s fears against him, but Sam didn’t usually come down at this time anyway. He’d be happy in his room drawing maps or going on the internet. He’d be fine, absolutely fine.
I’d been married to Duncan for twenty-four years and been faithful all that time – pretty miserable for a lot of it – but faithful all the same. And now I was going to do something that would change everything with someone I’d known a fortnight. I was risking the lot: my marriage, my home, my relationship with my son, but that wasn’t going to stop me. Nothing was going to stop me.
I stood still listening at the bottom of the stairs. Not a sound. Sam was busy doing his thing. He had been down for a few pieces of pasta for his tea and then he’d disappeared back up to his room. He’d calmed down. He was fine.
In the downstairs loo I brushed my teeth. I inspected my face close up: lines, wrinkles, yes a few, but my eyes were bright and I looked alive – sexy even. As I opened the bathroom door I heard the hum of the milking parlour again, loud and insistent. I looked at my watch: six o’clock – Duncan would be milking for another half hour. I listened again at the bottom of the stairs and then walked out of the back door.
I jogged across the orchard towards the polytunnel. I couldn’t help glancing back at the landing window for any sign of Sam, but there was just a blank, black window staring back at me.
At the tunnel I pushed aside the plastic sheeting that served as a door and felt the humidity and the heat hit me.
Larry was sitting on a stack of compost sacks and he stood up as I went in.
Neither of us said anything. I put my arms around him and he held me tight and kissed me.
‘You sure about this?’
I kissed him again; I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to taste him, to hold him, to be alone with him and make every second count.
Larry slid his hands under my T-shirt and I shivered. I opened my eyes to see him watching me. I smiled, stretched up and kissed him – biting his lip just enough to hurt. Larry pushed my bra up and took the weight of my breasts. He leant me backwards
and the compost sacks pressed against my legs and I sat down and then edging up the sacks I lay down.
The sacks had soaked up the sun and were warm against the bare skin on my back. Larry lay beside me and pushed my T-shirt further up and I closed my eyes. His face was rough against my skin as his tongue traced around my breast and sucked my nipple which was so hard it hurt.
The white plastic of the polytunnel was right above my head; it was like being encased in a weird bubble, as if Backwoods, Duncan, Sam and everything had disappeared. It was a place apart: hot and sticky, smelling of soil and surrounded by the breeze rustling the plastic sheeting.
I pulled Larry’s shirt and slid my hands underneath to feel the skin on his back, smooth and taut.
The breeze dropped and I heard a noise by my head. I froze. What was that? Was somebody there? I strained to hear but the breeze blew on the tunnel again and it rattled. Was it only the wind? Larry didn’t look like he’d noticed anything.
I felt him pulling my skirt up and his hand moving up my thigh. I listened again, but there was nothing except the wind. I pressed myself against him and fumbled with his belt.
He pulled my knickers aside and I realised I’d put a skirt on this morning to make it easier for him to do this. I didn’t feel ashamed either, not a bit.
I felt his weight on me and I held my breath.
‘Alice, oh God, Alice,’ he said and I bit my hand and buried my face in his shoulder to stop myself making a noise.
I mustn’t make a noise; it seemed vital not to make a noise – like we were doing this in another life, in another world, somewhere that was ours, and it didn’t count as long as I made no noise at all.
Afterwards I pulled my skirt down as Larry sorted his clothes.
‘You okay?’ he said.
I nodded. It must be nearly half six. My back was sticking to the plastic sack and I held my hand out for Larry to pull me up. I leant against the plastic wall, my head spinning. It was bloody hot in here. Larry bent over and kissed me full on the mouth.
‘You are beautiful and gorgeous,’ he said and he stroked my face.
I wiped around my eyes. Was mascara smeared everywhere? I smoothed my hair down. I needed to get myself cleaned up and looking normal before Duncan came in. I hutched myself off the sacks and stood up. Larry put his arms around me.
‘It’s probably best I don’t come in the house tonight,’ he said.
My throat constricted. I didn’t want to be on my own with Duncan. ‘I want you to,’ I said.
Larry shrugged. ‘I don’t want to make it awkward, that’s all.’
‘Come inside,’ I said. ‘It’ll look funny if you don’t.’
Larry nodded. ‘Okay. If you’re sure.’
He put his arm round my shoulders and walked with me to the doorway. Before I pushed the sheeting aside he took my hand and pulled me to him and kissed me. I wound my arms around his neck and took in the taste and the smell of him to last me until I was with him again.
We broke apart. After a moment Larry let go of my hand and I slipped through the plastic sheet and ran back across the orchard.
Chapter 25
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Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Truestory
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.35
I saw it but I do not know whether to believe it.
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Blood Bro
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.38
Love Duck Soup! Best Marx Bros film ever!!
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
JC
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.40
Doubting Thomas asked for evidence of sight and touch. So there is nothing wrong with using rational, scientific reason – but as Jesus told him: ‘Stop Doubting and Believe.’
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Mr Soft
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.44
Fooling yourself into believing is the easiest thing. Don’t trust your own eyes. Observations have got to be scientifically tested otherwise we fall victim to illusions, & False perceptions. A good place to start with scientific inquiry is to take Field Notes. Make careful records of your observations, and quantify things and attach a number to whatever you can.
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
JC
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.45
Ultimately we have faith.
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.47
Seeing is Believing, Truestory. What have you seen anyways?
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Truestory
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.48
I know about tricks of the eye and optical illusions I know about Chinese Shadow Theatre and shadow puppets. But today I did not see any of those things – I saw the shadow of two people kissing through the plastic door of the poly tunnel.
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 18.55
?? Well perhaps that’s cos there were two people kissing behind the plastic door of the poly tunnel. Wotever that is!!
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Playmeright
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 19.00
Yep, I’ve always put great faith in the evidence of my own senses. Sooner trust my own than anybody else’s that’s for sure.
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Truestory
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 19.02
I can still see the shadow-people kissing in my head. I can see a shadow-man putting his arms around the shadow-woman’s waist and the shadow-woman putting her arms around the shadow-man’s neck and the shadow-man bending down and kissing the shadow-woman on the lips and the shadow-woman kissing him back.
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Mr Soft
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 19.10
To improve your powers of observation you need to learn to observe. Observing is more than just looking and is the way great discoveries are made. Start on those Field Notes, Truestory. It can make the world more predictable and less worrying.
Re: Should I trust the evidence of my own senses?
Truestory
Date: 15 June 2014
Time: 19.15
My on-line dictionary says ‘predictable’ means ‘possible to foresee what is going to happen’. That would be helpful. I will go and observe what is happening downstairs. I will start my Field Notes. Thank you for your help.
Chapter 26
I knocked back the rest of the red wine while I stirred the Bolognese sauce so my head was swimming and I was humming The Lambada by the time Duncan came in from milking. Larry tapped on the door and came in a few minutes later.
I concentrated on dishing up dinner and said nothing. I left them to talk about the weather and some fencing that needed doing and other farming stuff. I probably looked lost in my own thoughts but I was aware of every word they were saying and every gesture they were making.
Then Sam turned up as I was dangling the spaghetti over the bowls.
He slid into his place at the kitchen table. I was glad to see him. His sleeves were pulled right down to cover the bite marks on his arms but I was relieved he’d come downstairs because sometimes he stayed in his room for twenty-four hours after a meltdown like the one he’d had before.
‘Hi Sam, do you want som
e spaghetti?’ He didn’t answer.
Larry said: ‘You okay, son?’ But there was no answer there, either.
Duncan said: ‘He’s not speaking tonight.’
Sam opened his notebook and ran his fist over it until it was flat. He was holding a pencil and he stared round the table, from person to person, studying them up and down like he was about to do an artist’s sketch . Duncan and Larry didn’t notice and tucked into their spaghetti like they hadn’t eaten all week.
‘How’s things in the polytunnel?’ said Duncan, and I froze.
I poked my spaghetti around my bowl and Larry carried on eating for five seconds until he said: ‘Yeah, good. I’ll plant out some seedlings over the next few days.’
My skull prickled. I was casting about for something to say, anything, just to change the subject.
‘Great scran, Alice,’ said Larry.
I gave him a watery smile. Then I noticed that Sam had written ‘SCRAN’ in his notebook.
‘What you doing?’ I asked.
‘Field Notes.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Field Notes.’ I wrapped spaghetti round my fork. ‘Is that the first time you’ve heard the word scran?’
He nodded.
‘Can you guess what it is?’
Sam blinked.
‘Perhaps Larry is referring to the spaghetti in the brown lumpy sauce,’ he said. ‘Or maybe he is referring to your separate and noticeable chests in your blue T-shirt.’
The spaghetti unravelled from my fork. We all looked at Sam, and Duncan gave a snort of laughter.