by Karen Botha
‘Oh the curse of being a detective, it’s impossible to ignore what appears ordinary to other people.’
‘I know!’ I exclaim, finally, some justification for the destruction I’m about to leave in my wake.
‘I can help out if you’re happy with that Steve? I could run the public side so Paula may stay in the background?’ Mo offers.
And Steve pauses again, not one to be rushed into a quick decision that may come back to haunt him. He sips his drink whilst he plays out all the repercussions in his head.
‘There’s no overtime, you do this in your own time, your caseload here doesn’t suffer as a result.’
We all smile, relief sags my rigid back and Mo slaps the table, ‘Done!’
Steve scrapes his chair as he pushes it back to stand and holds his hand out to shake mine again. He gives it a little squeeze before letting go. I smile, a closed but grateful smile and collect my belongings.
‘Don’t make me regret this,’ he points, teasing me.
My heart flip flops, ‘Thanks for trusting me, it means a lot.’
‘You know how to get out, we’re not going to molly-coddle you now; see yourself out. I’ll give Mo your documentation when it’s been processed, I’m assuming we have your current contact details on file?’
‘Yes, they’re the same as they’ve always been.’
I pause when I’m half way through the door and hang on the frame with one arm as I curve my head back in.
‘Thanks!’ I say simply, because nothing else is needed. I turn right down the corridor and hear the whispers of the conversation from the room I just left.
‘We’ll get her back, well done.’ It’s Steve’s voice.
GILES
‘They’re calling our flight.’ I’ve learnt something new about Lucy already; she likes the duty free!
Instinctively she looks up as I talk and my heart fills. Her neck is still stiff from the accident and her face grimaces with the effort. She puts down the bottle of whatever it was she was about to spray and nonchalantly heads in my direction. I’m relieved, not because we’re able to head to our gate now, but because her indiscriminate perfume spraying is making me sneeze.
User error with the online check-in system means we’re seated separately on the plane. On the upside, at least my sinuses will recover by the time we arrive in Portugal.
Wyndham came good with his offer. Lucy was as delighted as I was when I presented her with her ticket. A short trip to the sun with nothing to think about but ourselves. Time to discuss whatever we need then set back home refreshed.
‘I’ll see you when we land.’ She reaches up, kissing me before following the directions on her boarding card to the rear of the plane. My lungs swell from an injection of extra oxygen as Lucy presses her soft palm against my chest as she balances herself whilst reaching onto her tip toes. She is more radiant than she has been since the accident already, and we’ve not even taken off yet. I'm certain I've made a sound decision.
Once landed, I reconsider whether this trip was indeed such a sound decision. We drive around aimlessly searching for our home for the week. Following the sick sense of humour of our inbuilt sat nav, we end up down a narrow country lane in the broad vicinity of a postcode it neither recognises nor acknowledges.
We amble past what we eventually realise is our accommodation at least ten times. As we unpack, I wonder how we'll find anywhere of interest with such a useless machine as our guide.
I plant it in the back of my mind as Lucy presses ‘1066’ into the key pad to access the four story town house. She whoops with delight as she pushes the door open into a marble entrance.
‘Wow, look at this place,’ she shouts over her shoulder as she rushes in. I follow dumping the bags in the marble hallway. She’s in and out of every room with quick succession.
‘Ooh, Miele dishwasher,’ she opens it, peering inside. Not sure why, but I don’t comment.
‘Have you seen this patio Giles?’ she slides open the large glass doors off the open plan lounge allowing fresh air to drift into the stuffy room. She’s right. It’s planted with wonderful cacti and trees manicured such that their greenery is top heavy. The light falls between their tall trunks, giving an added dimension of length to the space.
Before I’ve had a chance to consider this properly, she jogs upstairs, ‘It’s twin beds,’ she shouts down.
‘What?’ I’m not happy, until I remember I’m not in a position to complain. Wyndham pulled some strings with one of his friends so we’re not paying but even so, I was expecting to be able to have long mornings of cuddles; and more.
‘Come on, let’s go and find the pool,’ she instructs. I think I may have created a monster, I’ve never seen her this animated. Maybe she’s burning off the energy she’s saved up from all her moping of the last few weeks. I hope so. She’s already whipped off her clothes and is bare bottom up as she searches through her case for the appropriate bikini. I catch a glimpse between her legs as she fumbles awkwardly. My groin twinges for this wonderful woman currently creating a storm out of the calm. I grab her hips and push into her.
‘Giles, stop it. I don't want to miss the sun.'
I groan and pull away. Best find my swimming shorts then.
The pool is tranquil. Perfect. We select a space on one of the many spare loungers by an umbrella, and we’re at peace. The infinity reserve trickles in the background as it passes over the sculpted wall before it is recycled and pick up my book but don't open it. A couple at the opposite end of the clover shaped liquid mumble something inaudible to each other before they settle back, limbs spread as though fallen. I reach out and hold Lucy's hand, squeezing it gently within my palm.
‘Are you happy?’ I don’t need to face her.
‘Yeah. As happy as I can be.’
‘Do you want to talk about anything?’
She lets out a sigh, 'I'm going to cool off in the pool.'
She makes quite a spectacle of lowering herself into the cold water and then pulling out again preferring to sit on the edge whilst she acclimatises. I open my book.
‘It's freezing,' she hollers at me, louder than is strictly necessary. The couple opposite us, glance at each other and leave. We're alone. I spot an opportunity. I place my book back down.
‘I'll join you,' I tip-toe over the burning tiles and dive bomb into the middle of the pool. Water sploshes in all directions.
‘Ah, my hair!'
Frankly, after the early start, the flight and then the heat, her hair isn't all that, but I'm smart. I simply wave over at her, ‘come join me.'
She shakes her head, ‘give me time.'
I wade over and grab her ankles off the edge where they dangle.
‘Oh don't you dare!'
Laughter erupts and I can't contain it. ‘Come on!' I tug. She kicks me, but I hold tight, pull myself between her legs. Run my fingers up her wet thighs. They glisten under the sun; smooth, strong muscles flexing under my touch.
She points, ‘people will see, look at all those balconies.'
I whisper, ‘No they won't, they're at the other side.' I proceed my sensual trail, tug at her elastic confines, creating a gap and slide my hand in.
‘Oh,' she gasps and lowers herself quietly into the pool.
I re-adjust, slipping into her bikini bottoms from the top and pulling the front down so they sag enough for me to move around, freely exploring this new sensation with her. She wraps her legs round my waist, touching my torso with her wet skin.
I manoeuvre my hands to free her breasts and dip us under the surface so no-one on a balcony can see what is mine. I nibble her pert nipple, grazing it with my teeth. The cold allows me to bite harder, suction greedily taking half her soft breast into my mouth.
I reach below the water and splay my fingers into her cavity whilst continuing to suck; hard. I curl my hand upwards until I locate her special spot, sucking some more and surging my pressure. She cries out, panting. I respond, pressing harder against her spo
ngy circle of nerves; keen to release every ounce of her pent up tension.
My rock-like rigidity presses against her as she perches on me, limbs fluid against our man-made tide. I pull my shorts down just enough to be free for her. And then, in that blissful moment, I'm inside. Her cold walls clench for my pleasure. The water laps over the side at an increasingly urgent tempo as I explore my sensations. Panic sits at the pit of my stomach, not because we may get caught, but if we are, I'll have to stop short. I rush; push into her harder, faster, deeper until an overwhelming voltaic sensation floods my nerve ends. I hold steady, grip her hips - and then relax.
With our repressed sexual tension dealt with, we are free to enjoy the next few days. Sat nav issues aside, we enjoy exploring places that luckily we’re not on a schedule to discover. I’m with the Lucy again who I first met. She seems to be using the physical distance between herself and the accident to mentally move on. We're attached in a way I’d hoped we’d pick up again, that closeness where you don’t need to speak, a simplicity between us.
‘What are you wearing?’ she asks as she browses her outfits before dinner. I hold up a pair of shorts I wore earlier in the day and a matching clean t-shirt. She screws up her face, furrowing her brow.
‘What’s wrong?’ I’m unsure of my faux-pas.
‘You wore those shorts today,’ she states matter-of-factly as if that is enough explanation.
‘So?’
‘Well, you should put something fresh on for dinner.’
I’m not sure why, but instead of explaining how comfortable the pair I had selected are, I agree. ‘OK.’
She pulls out my new pair of denim shorts, not yet softened from wear and a flowery shirt. She lays them out on the bed. I keep my thoughts about being uncomfortable to myself as she selects her own outfit; a short strappy dress, also in a similar blue.
‘There, we match now, rather than you being scruffy when I’m smart.’
I thought she wanted to know what I was wearing so she could tie in, but it seems that the object of her question was instead to ensure that I matched her. The joys of being the male half of a couple. I’m not enamoured with my new clothing direction, but it’s a small price to pay for the closeness attached to this kind of bossiness.
She adds her heels, and she’s ready to go. As she clonks down the staircase towards the exit, I sneak a look at her shapely calves. I love how they are firm and toned, but not the muscle you get when they’re over worked in a gym. She claims her job is enough of a work out and if that’s the result, I have to agree.
Life is different with Lucy. She’s happy to be active, going on adventures as she calls them, but she’s not all about keeping fit. She will partake if it’s something she deems fun, but fitness for fitness sake will never be on her agenda. I can live with that.
We’re shown to our table by a sassy front of house host who reminds me of someone who I once thought of as my friend. She let me down over something incredibly small. Her actions hurt me, but I was also relieved I'd not let things take a more intimate route. Some people hide their instability in public. I'm confident Lucy is not of this ilk.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ The waiter asks politely folding his hands in-front of him as he steps back giving us time to choose. After selecting a bottle of sparkling water to get us off the ground, we’re left to consider our food and alcohol options in more detail.
The waiter returns with our water and discreetly pours us each a glass. After taking our main order, he disappears again leaving us to chat and nibble on the over-charged couvert dish. The light is fading even though it’s still warm and the palm trees set in the outside dining area are lit a gentle green. The atmosphere is professional and relaxed, something a lot of restaurants fail to achieve. We both slouch comfortably in our rattan chairs.
We clink our glasses together smiling, eyes linking our hearts. This is the moment. I don’t want to ruin a perfect evening, but at some point it is going to have to happen. Paula is dead set on making certain of that.
‘I have something I need to speak to you about,’ I plunge in.
She lifts her head deliberately, right eye raised and colour rising quickly up her neck. ‘What?’
‘OK, so I don’t want you to be shocked,’ I pre-empt, trying to ease her in. I’m hoping this will prevent her from running a mile. I’ve thought about how this may go multiple times since my row with Paula and I’ve prepared a mental script. Now we’re here though, I can’t remember a thing and I’m not sure what I should say. I pause, my mind swirling.
She’s still staring at me, holding her breath to find out what I have to say. From my perspective, I can’t swallow enough air, I don’t have time to use it before I've exhaled again. My chest works overtime to feed my brain so it can cut through the fog my nerves create.
‘What?’ she asks again, her shoulders are creeping towards her ears.
‘You know I love you don’t you?’
‘Yes…’ she answers slowly, wringing her hands.
‘And that I’ve been married before, obviously.’ She nods. ‘Well, I didn’t expect to meet anyone again who would make me whole, but you do because you’re truly special.’
She smiles, ‘Thank you.’ She reaches for my hand. Both our palms are sweaty, her hand shakes in time with mine.
‘I believe we can accomplish anything in life together - we’ve already been through such a lot.’
She nods slowly, her grip tightens around my palm. I see memories of the last few weeks pass in front of her eyes. I regret my words and react quickly to take her mind away from negativity. ‘Having a partner you are able to rely on is one of the most important aspects of a relationship,’ she nods again, still distracted. ‘I really don’t want anyone else in this world now I’ve found you.’
‘OK…’ she’s starting to settle. Her hand releases from mine to brush her hair away from her neck, she tosses me another smile.
‘I feel the same,’ she almost whispers, her voice hoarse. ‘The past few weeks have been awful, but also some of the best of my life. I wouldn't have been able to deal with them as easily without your support.’
She’s leaning back in her seat again so I can’t hold her hand, but I really need to be touching her. I fiddle with my watch. It’s digging into my wrist. I’ve never noticed it do that before.
‘What are you getting at Giles?’
This is it, the moment of no return, I have to spit this out and hope that by setting it up the way I have this will go my way.
LUCY
‘Will you marry me?’ My heart thumps its bass drum. My eyes fill with tears that stream, out of control. I’m grinning and reaching down to throw my arms round his neck.
I hear something clink and he jumps up, knocking me off balance. I steady myself with my hand on the table. It wobbles.
‘Where did it go?’ he screams, frantically getting back down onto his hands and knees and crawling around the restaurant floor.
‘What? What’s wrong?’ I don’t get an answer.
‘The ring,’ he blusters, as if it could be anything else. ‘It’s my Mum's. A family heirloom.’
Oh no, what did I do? I didn’t even see a ring, I must have missed it in all the commotion of him proposing. I kneel down on all fours to assist his search, my dress riding unflatteringly up the back of my legs.
‘What is it like?’
‘I don’t know, it’s a diamond ring, in gold.’ He’s getting snappy now, people are gawking. Chairs scrape terracotta tiles as the other diners help us turn the place upside down.
‘I’ve got it,’ someone shouts to the side of the restaurant by the speakers, ‘all the way over here.’
Giles scrabbles up and dashes over to this chap, grabs the ring and hugs him.
‘Thank you so much,’ he’s less flustered, more like himself again. He shakes the man’s hand as they smile, clapping each other on the back.
We now have an audience of a few hundred people, the jam-packed restauran
t has discovered entertainment. I’m kind of hanging around awkwardly in the background, letting the scene play out - embarrassed at my role.
Back at my side once more, Giles resumes his position on bended knee, his other one displaying a chalky mark from his recent rescue mission.
‘So, you never answered,’ he’s quiet, eyes warm with adoration.
I’m standing now and a little more prepared. Finally, I see the ring in question, but it still doesn’t really register. This lovely, devoted male would like to spend his life with me.
‘I would love to marry you,’ my heart overflows. Warmth and admiration jostle to create even more space for this understated man who has demonstrated I can rely on him; whatever.
I lurch forward, grabbing his neck; carefully this time. I cry into his shoulder, laughing through my sobs, kissing his hair, his cheek, his ear. He giggles, hugging me back, standing and cupping my face in both hands, it's close, the heat of his breath caresses my wet cheeks. Intensity burns through me and I meet his eyes, opening my heart for him. My lips tingle as he brushes them with his.
‘I love you,’ he whispers gently.
‘I love you too.’
A great cheer accompanied by vigorous clapping erupts from our well wishers and finally, Giles places the biggest diamond I have ever seen close up, onto my finger. I now understand why he went into panic-mode when I decided to put the ring into flight-mode. He grabs me, tight arms around my shoulders and plants his lips hard on mine then pulling back we lock eyes.
He whispers, ‘We may have only been together five minutes, but I feel like I’ve known you my entire life.’
At this moment, there’s nothing I’d rather hear. He has seen me at my best and what has certainly been my worst. He has been steadfast throughout. You don’t need a lot of time - experiences test a personality, a relationship.
Eventually, I behold my ring; the family heirloom. It’s a huge knuckle duster. A diamond that must be at least one and a half carat is encased with thick swirls of gold. It fills my slim finger to the half way point, spiralling easily guided by weight and space.