Bridge Over the Atlantic

by Lisa J. Hobman

  “I just need to get away from here, from Greg; from memories.”

  “Come whenever you like, hun. I’ll make the spare room up.”

  Before bed Mallory packed a small case with essentials and set it by the door ready for an early start in the morning. Ruby jumped on to the bed and snuggled up to her. Mallory sobbed once again into the fur of the little black dog.

  After breakfast the next day Mallory scooped up Ruby and her case and put them in the car. It was nine o’clock and she was determined to set off soon. She pulled up outside Colin’s shop and went in to let him know she was going away for a few days. She had already called Stella who had been very understanding, as always. She turned the car around and began to pull away. Greg appeared out of nowhere in front of the car; hands held up to stop her. She slammed the breaks on. He came around to the driver’s side and she rolled down the window.

  His expression was pained. “Mallory…are you leaving?” He was out of breath.

  “What does it have to do with you?” Her frustration was evident in the terse tone with which she addressed him.

  “The case in the back. Ruby…are you going for good?”

  “Why don’t you ask your wife, Greg.” She bristled and hit the accelerator.

  Chapter Eleven

  It felt good to be emancipated, even if was temporarily, from the stress of the chaos that had become her relationship with Greg. She was looking forward to seeing Josie.

  She stuck in her Alanis Morisette CD and felt an angry sing along was just what the doctor ordered. The growling, scathing lyrics of ‘You Oughta Know’ seemed so fitting and rang through the car and out into the warm September morning through the open windows of her car. Then it was the turn of Pearl Jam and ‘Rearviewmirror’ followed by Avril Lavigne’s ‘So Much For My Happy Ending’. Good clear-your-head-get-it-outta-your-system songs. She felt better already.

  Eight hours later after taking only one brief stop off; and after singing along to as many angry, loud songs as she could lay her hands on, at the top of her voice—much to the amusement of other motorists—she arrived at Josie’s house. It was just after six and she was starving. Josie’s was a semi-detached estate house not far from Railway Cottages but much more modern.

  Josie had seen her pull up and was waiting. Exiting the car and almost running up the driveway, Mallory flung her arms around her best friend.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Josie said as she hugged her back hard.

  “It’s good to be here, I’ve missed you,” Mallory replied, fighting back the threatening tears.

  Josie helped Mallory into the house with her things and then made a pot of fresh coffee. Ruby ran around in the familiar surroundings wagging her tail. Once Mallory had deposited her case upstairs she came down to tell Josie about Alice and her antagonistic accusations.

  Josie gasped in shock, her hands on her face. “So do you think they are going to get back together for real? Or is that just her wishful thinking?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. She kept touching him and kissing him, but he looked uncomfortable. All the songs he sang had hidden messages which were clearly aimed at me. I don’t know what to think. But it’s irrelevant, Josie. I can’t trust him.”

  Josie took a deep breath and paused as if unsure whether or not say what she was thinking. “Mallory, I get that he was economical with the truth, but you obviously have feelings for him or you wouldn’t have rushed down here.”

  Mallory was annoyed by the direct approach, but that was Josie; she was nothing if not direct. Mallory shifted in her seat and her lips were pressed together.

  Josie continued on her mission of truth, “You need to think long and hard like I’ve said before. If he feels for you like he says he does, then Mrs. Conceited-Pants will have no chance at getting into his life again. There are only so many times you’ll let someone break your heart you know.”

  Mallory relaxed a little and sighed as she remembered what Greg had told her about Alice. She was a nasty piece of work, out for her own gains. Greg was just the opposite.

  “I just need some time away. I need to be able to think clearly about everything. Not just Greg but the shop too. I was considering selling up and moving the whole thing to Easdale, near the house, but then all this happened and I am now thinking of coming back here.”

  Josie squeezed her hand. “Mallory, you have enough money now to open a second shop. You could do that when you go back. I’m quite capable of dealing with the Leeds branch. I do love it and we have a regular customer base now; plus the tourists love the bespoke local signs you make. No one else is doing things like that in the centre.” She hesitated again. “Look, don’t get me wrong, if you decide to sell I will go find something else, or I can go back to college. This isn’t about me. I just think it’s a shame to fix something that isn’t broken.”

  Mallory liked the prospect of a second Le Petit Cadeau outlet. And judging by the forecasts and current figures, Leeds was excelling. Josie was right. But the fact still remained that she was considering coming home to Leeds. She would have to figure things out.

  The following day was a trip down memory lane. She hadn’t been to Leeds for a while. It felt good to be back in the hustle and bustle of the busy shopping precinct with its huge department stores and vast array of designer shops. Josie had suggested Mallory came into the shop to see for herself how things were going. She wanted Mallory to see the fruits of her labours as she had managed to encourage other local crafts people to have commission based stands within the shop and so the variety of goods had increased dramatically. Business was booming. Mallory’s heart warmed to think that what started as a hobby had become a viable business venture. Sylvia would be so proud, she thought.

  As she sat by watching Josie work her sales magic her cell phone buzzed in her bag. She expected there to be a message via Facebook from Reece who had met someone and had gone on a date a couple of days before. Excited to hear his news she fumbled around in her bright red bottomless pit of a bag and located the phone. It was a text. From Greg.

  Hey, how r u? Am worried u will not come back. I miss u so much. Please just let me know u r ok.

  She thought for a moment and hit reply.

  Greg, I’m fine. Please just let me be for a while. I need some space, okay? Concentrate on your own life for a while and let me deal with mine.

  She hit send. When she re-read the message she realised that perhaps she had been harsh. Too late now, lady. Her subconscious chided.

  Josie had arranged for them to go out for a meal with a few friends that night. They had been booked into the Tandoori Palace for eight. Mallory was looking forward to some good Indian food. Mallory slipped on a pair of straight leg jeans, a purple v neck top and black stilettos. She wore the bracelet from her first Christmas with Sam.

  The restaurant was lively and warm when they arrived. The air was filled with the most tantalising aromas of exotic spices. Mallory’s mouth began to water in readiness for the delights she was about to savour. She sat toward the end of the long table with Josie at her right and Brad opposite. It was a kind of an accidental shield created by the friends for their supposedly fragile guest.

  However, to her left was Dan; a six foot four, ridiculously handsome, olive skinned, dark haired dreamboat of a basket-ball player. He had just been signed up to play for the Stags. He was a friend of Brad who Mallory had met before when she was with Sam.

  Mallory and Dan chatted throughout the meal. It turned out that they liked the same music, films and TV shows. Interesting. Not at all contrived by Brad and Josie…she doubted that! Mallory had let her nerves get the better of her and had drunk rather a lot of Pinot Noir. She was feeling very giggly and tipsy.

  Dan was delicious. Mallory wanted to bite him; he looked good enough to eat. Her train of thought made her giggle even more. At the end of the night Dan walked with Mallory to the taxi that Brad had ordered.

  “So, can I see you again?” he asked standing very
close to her. He was so tall.

  “Erm…well I’m only here for a short visit,” she said, fiddling with her hair like a besotted teenager. She was revelling in the fact that he seemed to fancy her. Her!

  “Can I take you out whilst you’re here? I understand if you don’t want anything serious. I just thought we could have some fun.” He licked his bottom lip suggestively.

  She wanted to bite that now too.

  Her brazen thoughts were totally out of character. “I think we could arrange that,” she purred and smiled as sexily as she could after a bottle of Pinot.

  “How about tomorrow? I don’t start training until next weekend.”

  Crikey, he’s eager. She thought, loving it.

  “Okay. What do you want to do?” she asked coyly.

  “Why don’t you get Brad to drop you at mine and I’ll cook? I have a place in the centre of Leeds…one of the converted warehouse apartments.”

  Wow, she thought, those places are very swanky and not cheap.

  “Be there for eight?”

  Trying her best to stay upright was a feat in itself, “Okay, I’ll see you then. What should I bring?” She hoped her alcohol fuelled mind would remember.

  “Just your very sexy self.” He lifted her hand to his lips and smarmily kissed it. Mallory couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture.

  She finally crawled into the cab and Josie was glaring at her.

  Mallory was a little befuddled and enquired as to her expression. “What’s up with you and your sour face?” Subtle, Mallory, very subtle.

  “Mallory, you are going for dinner with him. Do you think that’s a good idea in your current state of mind?” Josie demanded, arms folded.

  “I’m of perfectly mound sind, Josie-posie.” She sniggered at her mix up. “I’m just a bit pissed, but I’ll be sober tomorrow so stop worrying.” That was the end of the subject. It felt good to have something new to think about.

  When she woke the next day, Mallory’s head throbbed from over indulgence. She managed to tame her wavy locks and bring her countenance back to something vaguely resembling human. She checked her phone and there was a text. Oh Greg, for goodness sake. She thought opening the message. It wasn’t Greg. It was Dan.

  Hey sexy. How’s the head? Can’t wait to get you alone, Dan x

  Blimey, what was he expecting? She wondered feeling excited, but the text was also a little disconcerting. She decided to go into the shop again with Josie and do a little stocktaking. She was aware that her own items were becoming less of a feature in the shop and that needed to change.

  The shop was busy again, much to Mallory’s delight. Pride swelled in her as she heard the old fashioned cash register go kerching, time after time. The day went fast and before she knew it Mallory was showering ready for her date. When she got back to her room Josie was sitting on the bed.

  “Hey Jose, what’s up?” Mallory was surprised by the intrusion.

  “I’m really worried about you going to Dan’s tonight.” She stated, her expression filled with concern and her eyebrows pulled together.

  “Well, didn’t you orchestrate our meeting?” Mallory smiled.

  “Not exactly. Dan asked Brad if he could sit by you.” Her worry visibly increased. “I wasn’t happy about it at all.”

  “Aw, sweet.” Mallory felt heat flush her cheeks.

  “No…not sweet, Mally. Look, he has a reputation as a bit of a male tart. Just watch yourself. Don’t go falling for him okay?”

  “God, Josie, you make me out to be kind of serial inamorata!” Mallory scoffed. Feeling rather offended.

  “Not at all. I just know how physically attractive he is and I know how extremely vulnerable you are. Just be careful.”

  “What, no condoms to hand over today then?” Mallory held out her hand, mockingly.

  “Believe me, he has shares in every condom company there is,” she retorted and left the room.

  Brad dropped Mallory off at the flash, gated apartment complex at eight sharp. He didn’t offer any words of wisdom. Just shook his head knowingly as Mallory stepped out of the car. She buzzed the button next to where it said ‘Dan Camera.’ Italian, figures. Her subconscious turned its nose up.

  “Hey sexy, come on up.” Somehow, in the cold light of day his Yorkshire accent didn’t have the same appeal. He just sounded like any other guy she’d met in night clubs in her youth. She took the lift up to his floor. It was all very well presented.

  He stood at his front door eagerly awaiting her arrival. She walked toward him. Black fitted dress and strappy sandals. She hadn’t applied too much make-up just a little lip gloss, mascara and cheek highlighter. His eyes flashed greedily when he saw her. She smiled as he welcomed her inside.

  The apartment was a little like a show home. White walls, black furniture, modern art on the walls. It was stunning. She couldn’t figure out how he could afford this when he had only just been signed up by the Stags.

  “Nice apartment, Dan.” She offered, as her eyes took in every visible detail.

  “Thanks. It’s not mine just yet.”

  “Oh? Rented?” she asked nosily.

  “Yeah, kind of. My dad bought it as an investment and so I pay him back as a kind of mortgage.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Cool. Nice dad.”

  “Yeah, he’s a stereotypical Italian male; outwardly emotional, loud, gregarious, family orientated. I think I’m more like my mum. She’s from York. She’s a little more reserved.” He smiled. He seemed anything but reserved.

  “Something smells good.” She inhaled to take in more of the enticing aromas.

  “Surprise, surprise, it’s Italian.” He shrugged, a little embarrassed at the obvious choice. “My mum was taught to cook by my nonni, my dad’s mum. She passed her knowledge onto me.” Impressive.

  “So what are we having?” She went over to the black granite kitchen space. The splash backs were brushed stainless steel and there was every conceivable modern gadget installed.

  “Well…for starter it’s a simple Bruschetta Al Funghi, then for main I’ve made my speciality…Penne Al Salmone. It’s delicious. And for dessert I’m afraid it’s all out obvious, Tiramisu. I know most ladies like that.” He winked. He wasn’t wrong and boy he had gone to such a lot of effort.

  Dan opened a bottle of Pinot Noir. “I bought this thinking maybe it was your favourite? You drank it at the restaurant.”

  Mallory nodded and took a sip. It was delicious but also reminded her of her hangover. She would have to seriously pace herself tonight.

  The food was outstanding. Dan had made it all from scratch. Mallory was impressed and touched at the same time. Once they had dessert and coffee, Dan asked her to join him on the black leather couch. He sat very close to her, which made her a little shaky and fidgety. Her palms began to feel clammy too. Nice.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this bit all night,” he said leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

  Whoa, he doesn’t waste any time! His light kiss sent shivers down her spine.

  She pulled away slightly feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, “Erm…thank you for a lovely meal.” She felt a little uncomfortable at the way she was becoming turned on. She hardly knew him. What was with her lately?

  “You’re more than welcome. I think it may be time for a second dessert now.” He slid nearer and mumbled against her neck. Shivers tingled again. She turned toward him to make a vain attempt at conversation, but instead he grabbed her head with his hand and plundered her mouth with his tongue.

  She pulled back breathing heavily. “Dan, what are you doing?” She gasped.

  “I told you, second dessert. Look don’t worry, there are no strings attached here, I’m aware that you will be going home soon and so I have no expectations of this going further than tonight. Let’s just enjoy each other and have some fun, eh?”

  She leaned back. “Can’t we just…you know…talk for a bit?”

  He leaned in again and continued to nibble at her ear an
d neck. “Talk? Ah…been there…it’s over rated…I prefer to fuck.” His tone was harsh and unforgiving and he slid his hand up to her breast.

  She pushed at his chest. “Dan, can you stop? Please? I don’t want this.”

  He was strong and didn’t budge.

  “Of course you do. You definitely want me. I saw how you looked at me last night, like you could eat me alive.” He chuckled as he fondled her.

  She gasped for air in between his invasions of her mouth. “Dan…please…I was…drunk last night.”

  “Relax…take a chill pill…we both know what we want out of this,” he continued groping and mauling at her.

  Hang on a minute! She thought to herself. What we want? This is what you want, you arrogant self-obsessed tool!

  He moved his hand down to the hem of her dress and slid it up her body, forcing himself into her mouth again. His tongue was deep and probing, making her gag. Like a crazed octopus his hands were all over. Not in the slightest bit sexy or romantic. In fact, a little bit scary as she was pinned to the couch by his huge, heavy torso. She felt nauseated. Her heart pounded and her mind raced thinking of a way to free herself from his grip. She couldn’t scream or slap him. What the hell am I going to do?

  Gathering her wits about her, she slid her hand down to his groin. He groaned in pleasure and then, suddenly, he cried out lurching up with an expression of agony and horror combined on his contorted face.

  “You bitch!” he shouted holding his manhood where Mallory had just dug her nails in sharply.

  “You’ve seen nothing yet, mate, now unless you let me out of here right now I will call the police and ruin your career. I said I didn’t want this! Do you even understand what NO means?” she shouted at him, she widened her eyes at him as her chest heaved.

  He snorted at her. “It was only a bit of fun. I cooked for you. You wanted this!”

  “I wanted this? Are you kidding me? Oh I get it. You thought, formerly overweight girl gets slim and now she’ll sleep with anyone who’ll give her a good meal? Is that it? You bastard! Wait until I tell Brad. I think you’d better watch yourself. You may be a bloody giant, but he would absolutely flatten you if he knew what you’d tried to do!”