Just Like a Woman

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Just Like a Woman Page 15

by Madeleine Clark


  ‘D’you like the music?’

  ‘Yes, it’s very nice.’ She turned and smiled again, not adding anything further.

  Nice! Nice! Fucking nice, he thought. Not another fucking stupid bitch. He looked over at her, his hands clasped tightly round the steering wheel, he withheld the sigh deep inside as he smiled back. She was very young and according to Stephanie very naïve. Turning his attention back on the road he carried on listening to his recording, and gradually his hands relaxed. God, he was good.

  *****

  Stephanie sat at the bar waiting. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she had agreed to go on a date, but it was a long time. She wasn’t even sure why she had agreed to do this with Trevor. But she suspected it was because she knew Robert and Sarah were going out tonight and needed her mind on something else, otherwise she knew she would be phoning or sending texts to discover how it was going. Robert promised he would let her know as soon as he’d dropped Sarah back home.

  She sipped at her rum and coke while she waited. He wasn’t late yet, she had been deliberately early, she was always early, she then felt she was in control. But if he was a minute late she would walk. She never waited for any man, and had no intention of doing so now.

  She had phoned him to ask if he was going to the club. He suggested meeting somewhere else. She immediately refused, but eventually he had argued the benefits of meeting here and she had agreed. He asked again for her number in case he was late, she explained she wouldn’t be there if he was. She never waited for anyone. She heard laughter before she hung up.

  ‘Hi,’ she heard behind her. She glanced at her watch, he was a couple of minutes early.

  ‘Hi,’ she replied as he bent down for a kiss. As she turned to give him her cheek, his lips touched hers. She felt the touch run down to her toes. What was it about this man? How could he have such an effect on her? At least it was only physical, she consoled herself as she looked at him. She knew deep down the reason she agreed to see him was because she liked the way he touched her, the way he performed sex. Seeing him here caused her to doubt her sanity. He really wasn’t who she wanted to be seen with. And yes, there were the ever present cowboy boots firmly planted on his feet. If anyone she knew saw her with him, she would die of embarrassment. Good god, she noted, the boots were actually a different pair to the ones he had been wearing the last time; these were snake skin, or some amphibian, the others had been embossed leather. Christ, he must have other pairs of them. What was she doing?

  ‘Do you want a drink,’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ he smiled down at her his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. ‘You go and grab one of those seats by the window? That big leather sofa looks inviting.’ He turned his head to the bar expecting her to make her way over there. Looking at her drink for a couple of seconds, she tried to convince herself it was only politeness keeping her in the bar but had to admit to herself, she couldn’t think of an appropriate retort to his order. She got down from the stool, grabbed her drink, and walked over to the settee. She sat in the middle so he would have to sit opposite her when he arrived.

  Through the large expanse of window, she watched people walking past outside. Some hurrying, others taking their time; Christmas lights and decorations from last year’s boxes decorated the shop windows. A few pathetic lights had been hung from the street lights. She turned to look around, a few decorations hung from the ceiling; bits of holly and ivy were stylishly placed here and there; nothing too ostentatious. The television sets in each corner were enough distraction, even with the sound turned off. She was surprised more people weren’t in here, and counted only eight other bodies, besides Trevor, who was just making his way over to her, carrying two large drinks. It was quiet for a Saturday night.

  ‘Move up,’ he said as he squished his bottom down besides her, nearly sitting on her lap. What possessed her to phone him? When he gave her his number she had meant to toss it away, but somehow it remained in her handbag. ‘Here,’ he handed her a fresh drink. It tasted different to the last one.

  ‘That’s wonderful. How did you get them to put so much lime in it?’

  He winked at her, and touched the side of her nose. She cringed inside. What the hell did she see in this guy? When she was with him, she didn’t want to be, well, unless they were having sex, and when she wasn’t seeing him, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Must be the sex, she decided. She thought about his fingers touching her and forgave his behaviour. Yes, definitely it was the sex. She smiled up at him; she had found one man who could satisfy her on his own, and she didn’t like him. Typical, she thought, only she could manage to do that. She watched him, smiling back at her, oblivious to her thoughts about him, just waiting for this part of the evening to be over.

  .

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sarah lay on her bed, her head was spinning and she wasn’t sure she liked the sensation. She had liked it in the restaurant when her lips went a little numb and she felt warm inside, knowing she couldn’t say or do anything wrong. She had never felt so confident, so eloquent, and food had never tasted so good.

  The restaurant was beautiful, Christmas decorations hung from the ceiling and on each table a circlet of holly embraced newly lit red candles. A smell of pine mixed in with the various odours of the meals being delivered to individual tables. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was pleasant. Everyone was talking, but no one had to shout as the Christmas carols were played at a discreet level. And the evening had been so funny. She could not have imagined so much laughter, her stomach ached from laughing so much, even the muscles in her face ached. She really had never laughed so much in her life before. Robert was so amusing, telling her stories about the people he knew; people she only knew about from television; people who didn’t seem real. He told her about the difficulties they had in their lives. He made it all sound such fun; so exciting; so glamorous; so easy.

  He asked her about her house. She told him how it had belonged to her grandparents, and how they had sold pieces of land to developers. How her mother refused to sell anymore to developers and so there it sat looking so strange amongst all those new houses around it. Maybe she would sell it now. He had become very enthusiastic about her selling it. Told her it was worth a lot of money. Then he told her about his own house; the house itself; the music studio; the barn; the swimming pool. And the parties he had there in the summer, and winter sometimes, as he kept it heated all year round. She didn’t mention she couldn’t swim, and resolved she would learn. She was going to be a part of this life; this glamorous exciting fun filled life. She was going to meet all these people he knew.

  The waiter continuously filled her glass with sparkling wine, while Robert demonstrated to her how to eat the seafood platter he had ordered. A huge fountain had been placed in the middle of the table dripping with ice and prawn, lobster and crab, oysters and mussels; at the top in the centre was caviar. She, Sarah, had eaten caviar! Foods she had read about in her magazines, but never tasted. Robert was going to order her some champagne, but in the end determined sparkling wine would be a better option for her as she had never drank either before. He ordered himself a half a bottle of some red wine, because he was driving, he assured her. He was so kind and considerate. He insisted she have a liqueur with her coffee as well. It was so delicious, she even asked for another one.

  She, Sarah, had dared to ask for another drink! And he had smiled at her, calling the waiter over, ordering it for her, while he sipped his coffee.

  Her mother would be turning in her grave if she had one. Sarah laughed out loud and slapped her hand down onto the mattress, as she thought, but she can’t she isn’t in a grave, she was lying in some dark cold place waiting for the autopsy Dr. Short told her was necessary. She rolled about her bed laughing, bunching her duvet into her mouth, her feet kicking in the air. She would have to tell Robert that next time she saw him. She laughed all over again at the image of telling Robert; seeing his face laughing with her.
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  Suddenly it had to stop. She felt sick. She could taste the liqueur in her mouth. More of it was coming up. Holding her hand over her mouth, she twisted to the side of the bed, feeling for the floor with her feet, and then stumbled from her room to the bathroom. Vomit was trickling out from between her fingers by the time she managed to get her head over the bowl of the toilet. Once she took her hand away, the sick flowed from her mouth and down her nose. She collapsed on the floor, her hair falling over her face, into the toilet. She grabbed at it with sick covered hands and managed to spread the vomit even further. When her stomach had stopped wrenching, she pulled herself towards the bath, sat down next to it with her head over the side. She turned the shower attachment on.

  Letting the water wash over her head, Sarah’s mind cleared. The feeling of nausea died away, and she smiled. This was the best night ever. And there were going to be more of them. Robert had asked if he could phone her again, and see her again. And he had kissed her.

  His lips had touched hers, and this time she didn’t scream.

  She shampooed her hair and then conditioned it again. After rinsing it all off she pushed herself into a standing position, grabbed the nearest towel and scrubbed her hair then let it fall damp around her shoulders. She pulled her dress over her head. She held it out in front of her, looking at it. The marks would wash out, anyway it didn’t really matter. She dropped it onto the floor. She didn’t care. She could get another one. Robert would buy her another one; Robert had kissed her. She tried to find the happiness in the thought. The kiss was not quite how she had imagined it to be; soft and romantic, gentle lips against hers, arms holding her carefully and lovingly. But then she hadn’t been kissed before, only watched how it was done on television, read about it in magazines. It always looked so beautiful and sounded really nice.

  His lips were dry and cracked, they scratched hers; his teeth had clanged against hers as he held her head pulling it close to his. She hadn’t resisted, wanting it so desperately. But she had tried to pull away when he suddenly stuck his tongue in her mouth. If his mouth had not been covering hers she would have screamed. The taste of his saliva coupled with his dry lips reminded her of the fish and prawns they had eaten earlier for dinner.

  After removing the rest of her clothes Sarah washed herself at the sink. She wrapped herself in the towel. Then feeling how damp it was took it off again. She walked back to her bedroom naked, something she could never have done with her mother in the house. This time when she lay down, the room remained static. Lying naked on her bed she reached to turn off the light. In the dark, as she wondered whether Robert would ring in the morning, she let her hands explore her body before falling contentedly asleep; her hands between her thighs.

  In the middle of the night she woke not understanding why her mouth was so dry and thick, why she was cold and laying on top of her bed naked. Slowly the memory of the previous evening came back to her, and the full force of guilt hit her. She pulled the duvet up over her exposed body, her face flushed, her body repulsed by what she had done to herself. Sarah hid her head in the pillow, her hands over her ears, wishing sleep would overtake her once more. But all she could hear whispering in the dark was her mother’s voice;

  ‘You disgusting little girl. You’re despicable. You revolt me. Who’s ever going to love you?’

  *****

  ‘So? How’d it go? Stephanie looked at him while she stirred her cappuccino. The noise in the café prevented anyone from over hearing them, but she still spoke quietly so Robert had to lean forward slightly to hear her.

  ‘I can see what you see in her, she’s a pretty little thing in a strange sort of way. She reminds me of some of the fans I’ve met, but there’s something different about her. Not sure what. She’s not quite as subjugating as you think she is! In fact I am not even sure I like her.’ He leaned his head in even further, ‘There’s something about her!’

  ‘Oh, yes there is something about her,’ Stephanie looked up, her nose almost touching his, she caught a hint of his aftershave, the same one he had worn since she first met him. She saw his eyebrow raise at her smile. ‘She’s just perfect. You know she is. And you don’t have to like her, just want her!’

  ‘I’m not sure, Steph. God, she even asked for another drink!’

  She watched him as he looked down at his own coffee for a moment, she knew he was framing his words thoughtfully. She continued to watch as he carried on, ‘I’ve met lots of young girls who’d do anything for me, and I’m not convinced she fits into that category. I’m still not sure she’s going to be ok about all this.’ He looked up and met her eyes for a second before turning back to his coffee to take a sip. He placed his hand on the table, close to hers. She moved her hand into her lap and heard him sigh.

  ‘I agree. That’s why it’s more fun. We’ll have to manoeuvre her very carefully, not frighten her away. The girls you meet only want you. Hopefully Sarah, dear sweet Sarah, will want me as well.’ Stephanie enjoyed the image in her mind of Sarah in bed. She lifted her cup to her lips and drained the contents. After licking her lips, she continued, ‘Well, we’ll see. You invite her to your place for a meal, and I’ll come as well. Maybe suggest Andy comes too? No. Tell her he’s coming and then let her down gently so the three of us doesn’t seem unnatural. She’ll accept what you say.’ She laughed, ‘I’ve seen the look in her eye when she talks about you! Make it the 21st and we can say it’s a Christmas dinner.’

  Robert finished his coffee, took his wallet from his pocket and flicked a ten pound note in the air towards a waitress. Robert had learnt the art of being in public and not being recognised, but he hadn’t learnt the art of decent behaviour towards people he assumed were beneath him, Stephanie observed. She had once found his arrogance appealing, and wondered if that was why she liked Trevor. He was the only man she had ever met with enough confidence in himself to treat her with this same arrogance and yet he clearly still actually liked women. Many men she knew had attempted to treat her so, but it was with such dislike and bitterness she found it a turn off. Although Trevor liked her, she also knew he had enough surety in himself he would walk away if he had to, but was content to pursue her for the time being. He made her feel slightly unsure of herself and no man had ever made her feel like that. Even her father had never made her feel like that. She was used to being wanted, not rejected.

  The waitress came over with the bill and took Robert’s money. Telling her to keep the change, Stephanie saw the surprise on the girl’s face; then the change in attitude; the smile and gushing thank you. She would have waited for the change, because the service hadn’t been that good, but Robert couldn’t resist inviting the adulation of any young woman in his vicinity.

  He helped her on with her coat and they walked outside. The cold biting wind hit her face after the warm steaming atmosphere of the café. Robert stood waiting.

  ‘No, I’m going shopping.’

  ‘You could come back to my place, I’ve nothing on this afternoon?’

  She ignored the suggestion, ‘Call me later when you’ve spoken to Sarah about Tuesday night. Tell her it’s a pre-Christmas meal, for friends, but formal. And mention Andy is coming. OK?’ He looked down at her sulkily, but she ignored it, waiting for his reply.

  ‘OK, I’ll call you later. Where are you parked?’

  ‘I’m going to do some shopping first.’ She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘See you soon.’

  She walked away. She knew without turning round he was standing where she left him, watching her and wondered if it was getting too dangerous to keep doing this. But with the thought of Sarah, she decided, this last time would be worth it. This would be the last time, she decided. But she had thought that before! No, this one would be, because she wasn’t enjoying seeing Robert anymore, something had changed. Trevor? Would Trevor be interested in this little game? She knew the answer was no, and wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or not. She had been aware whilst sitting with Robert in the café, there was no
feeling left for him at all. There was no excitement anymore, knowing how he felt about her. The only excitement she felt was about Sarah. Sarah excited her, but even that wasn’t as she thought it would be. This would be the last time, she vowed to herself.

  *****

  Standing watching Stephanie walk away, Robert felt the usual sadness. Each time she walked away it was the same. He had been told on many occasions time was the healer, but his experience proved to be the exception to the rule so far. It still felt as bad as it had the first time, if not worse. The knot in his stomach pulled tight and his fists clenched until his finger nails dug into the palms of his hands. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He’d call Becky. The little tart would see him, he felt sure. Looking at his phone, he groaned. He would have to get a new one, he must have accidentally pressed the speed dial as it was busy on Andy’s number again. Damned phone, oh well, he needed to phone him anyway, and he obviously wasn’t answering at the moment. He’d get Terry to order him a new one. It was a fucking nuisance. He clicked through his address book until he found Becky, then listened to it ringing. What the fuck! Her answering machine cut in. She wasn’t even available. He clicked the phone off, and pushed it deep into his coat pocket and stomped to his car. He’d go back to his studio. At least he had the photos. But he didn’t really feel in the mood for photos, he wanted to touch flesh. Feel some flesh squeezed between his fingers. He gritted his teeth hard in frustration, and thought for just a moment of turning round and going back to try and follow Stephanie. But he knew there was no point, besides he had gone beyond wanting gentle sex, which he would have to have with her. He wanted something more, which is why she wouldn’t have sex with him, not unless there was another person involved. She knew what he would do to her. Why did she bring this out in him? Fucking bitch.

 

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