“It’s OK,” he smiled, “you are my lost brothers.” Andy turned away and swallowed back the tears. He was getting too soft in his old age. He fastened his seatbelt and hesitantly started the engine, checking that he could position the gears, before he set off, slowly, down the steep stony road. Three hours: that wasn’t so long really. He chanced a glance to his left and saw that Bhagwan had tipped some water onto the almost dry sock and was tenderly wiping Dan’s face with it. He quickly turned his attention back to the road ahead.
“We’ve not always been close,” he explained. “I did something really stupid when I was young and Dan covered up for me. He’s always done that, you know? Taken the blame when it was my fault. I got him into so much trouble at school sometimes. I’d go off on some mad thing or other and he’d just follow, idiot.”
“Not idiot. He is the younger brother, yes? This is what we do.”
Andy laughed. “Yes, that is what younger brothers do. We’ve got another brother too—three years older than me—but we never felt the need to always be getting in the way of whatever he was up to. Still don’t now, as a matter of fact.”
“You two are the same. He is different to you perhaps, your other brother?”
“Very much so. Me and Dan—we like the same music, football team, girls. Other than Adele. She is stunning, of course, but she’s always been off limits. And their little girl. Honestly, Bhagwan, you wouldn’t believe how beautiful she is! She has the darkest brown eyes and she just sort of looks up at you, blinking those big eyes. She’s going to be a heart-breaker when she grows up, for sure. And she’s started to talk now too. She shouts ‘Addy’ whenever I go round to see them. She’s just awesome. And she’s growing up so fast. When she was born, she was so tiny you could fit her on your hand. Amazing!”
“You want children?”
The question took Andy by surprise. Luckily the darkness was hiding his face, because he hadn’t intended to gush like that about little Shaunna, but Bhagwan was right. He did finally feel ready to be a parent, although he and Jess didn’t have that sort of relationship, so it was unlikely they’d be experiencing the ‘patter of tiny feet’ any time soon, if ever.
“Maybe one day,” he said cagily. “Tell me about your children. How old are they again?”
Bhagwan sensed that Andy was uncomfortable with having shared so much, so he duly obliged. With his work as a guide to western tourists, he could afford to pay for the older ones to go to school and he was very grateful for this. He dreamed of them going to university, like the students he often drove up into the mountains. How wonderful it would be if his children could travel the world and return with stories of all the places they’d been. For all of this wishful thinking, he said, he was thankful that they were healthy and had a good place to live, adding to this that when he went home he had to fix a leaking roof that had meant moving their beds to the other side of the house. Andy carried on driving, half-listening to this story, at the same time playing out the scenario of asking Jess if they could have a baby together. Once again, she’d remind him of how often he broke his promise not to do anything dangerous; his defence that danger kept finding him was no defence at all as far as she was concerned, and whichever way he looked at it, there would be no convincing her. Still, it had be worth a try, if only for that very small chance she might give him the answer he wanted.
They were coming down onto the city, the small dots of lights here and there shining up through the darkness of pre-dawn. Andy leaned left and right to stretch his shoulders and noticed that his companion, who had become quiet a little while ago, was sleeping. Less than an hour to go: the drive hadn’t been so bad, all things considered. Even though it was still a very long way down, it felt safer now and Andy settled into the last leg of the journey, allowing his thoughts to return to their previous meanderings around the possibility of parenthood. Without warning, a pair of headlights were upon him and he slammed on the brakes, swerving to the left and skimming the wing along the wall of rock at the side of the road. With no room to move over, the truck driver kept coming, straight up the middle of the road towards them. Andy swore.
“He’ll move,” Bhagwan murmured sleepily. “They always do, right at the last minute.”
Andy hoped he was right, because they were now only feet apart, the lorry horn filling the silence of the mountains and echoing back. Just as it seemed inevitable they were going to collide, the lorry veered off to the right, passing so closely that it ripped the remaining wing mirror clean off, before rattling noisily past and onwards up the road. Andy exhaled sharply. Bhagwan smiled and closed his eyes. That was far too close a call, but it had brought Andy’s random thoughts to resolution. He would talk to Jess about their future, in particular his desire to be a father, before he was too old, or did something really, really stupid.
CHAPTER TEN:
A VISITOR
“Hi.”
The voice was smooth and deep, like rich cream sherry, and instantly sent a familiar, yet long unfelt shiver down her spine. Her mouth bent itself into a smile without her conscious permission. She lifted her face, slowly following up from the casually crossed legs clad in clunky biker boots and almost too tight jeans, to the leather jacket, unzipped over the palest blue shirt.
“Hi,” she said, her eyes finally meeting with his.
“My overly-efficient niece wanted to buzz and tell you I was on my way up, but I successfully persuaded her to let me surprise you.”
“So it would seem,” Jess replied carefully. She’d been here before and it was a dangerous, dangerous place. “To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?”
“Dubious?”
“Hmm.” She motioned for him to come in and he did, sitting on the arm of the chair opposite hers. She sat back and tapped her pencil on her teeth, irritated that she couldn’t get the corners of her mouth to budge. How, she thought, does he still do this to me?
“I felt I should come and explain,” he said, as if this in itself were an explanation. She frowned, mouth still fixed in that stupid grin, and shook her head in confusion.
“About the reunion?”
“Ah. That. Eleanor’s getting married next Saturday.” As soon as she said it, she realised how ridiculously irrelevant it sounded, but he responded before she could elaborate.
“Ah!” he repeated teasingly, “but she’s not getting married this Saturday.”
“What I mean, Rob, is it’s terribly short notice and we’re all so busy with the arrangements.” The second part was a lie, because it had all been taken care of, by Eleanor and her mother, weeks ago.
“Which is why you should allow me to explain.” He slid down into the seat, leaving his leg draped over the arm of the chair, his jeans taut across his thighs. Jess looked away and he laughed, welcoming the compliment served up by her inability to hide her attraction. “I’ve been having tests for the last few weeks. You see, I was getting breathless going upstairs, or even just moving a bike.” He paused to gauge whether he could just come out and say it. Having not seen her for around fifteen years, although they’d spoken on the phone every so often, he wasn’t sure whether he should ease her in before he delivered the blow, if she felt it that way at all, but he saw he had her full attention, so opted for straight-talking. “I’ve been diagnosed with a potentially fatal congenital heart condition.”
Jess nodded slowly, but was lost for a response. There was more he needed to say, thankfully, for it would give her time to come up with something appropriate to reply with.
“It could kill me tomorrow, or I could go on to live a perfectly healthy life and die of something else entirely,” he explained. “But, the thing is, it could kill me tomorrow, though I’m optimistic that it’ll wait until at least Sunday, so I can enjoy this little reunion I’ve thrown together at the last minute. I hope you’re free to come.”
“Under the circumstances, even if I wasn’t I would be, if you know what I mean.”
Rob laughed. “Yeah, I get you. And wha
t about Andy? Is he going to come?”
“Andy’s in Nepal,” Jess told him and his eyes lit up. “I thought that’d please you. Nice invitation, by the way. And no, we didn’t get married. Nor do we have six kids or a cabin in the Swiss Alps.”
Rob nodded, an almost imperceptible grin settling on his lips. This was the long-standing joke between them. Back in school, Jess and Rob had been an item on and off for a year or so, then finally called it quits when they went their separate ways after sixth form, she to university, he to his apprenticeship as a motor-cycle mechanic—the perfect job for him, because he was obsessed with the things. In the years that followed, they would meet up for dinner or a drink, or simply just chat online, and at some point in every conversation she would mention Andy, which eventually led him to predict that they would be married by the time they were thirty, with a brood of six little ones. She wasn’t sure where the bit about the Alps came from. Yet, in spite of his acknowledgement of her relationship with Andy, and his own marriage that was no more, there was still an undeniable spark between them and it was bright enough for others to notice, including Andy. He liked Rob, but recognised him as his only real rival and it aroused an unhealthy and uncharacteristic jealousy.
“This heart condition of yours,” Jess began, just as the door opened.
“Hey,” Eleanor called, initially not noticing that there was someone sitting in the chair. Rob swivelled around to face her.
“Hello, Eleanor. I believe I’ve gazumped your wedding.”
“Hello, you,” she grinned and headed straight over to give him a hug. “How lovely to see you. And yes, you have gazumped my wedding. You’re looking great, by the way.”
“Thanks. You too. Who’s the lucky man, then? Surely you haven’t persuaded Josh Sandison to make an honest woman of you?”
“Are you kidding?” True enough, they were always together all through sixth form, as well as being each other’s date for the sixth form ball, but the possibility of them ever having a relationship for real was never on the cards for lots of reasons. “You’ll get to meet him shortly,” she said, just as footsteps sounded on the stairs. “In fact, any second now!” James came into view.
“Toby is in his seat, ready when you are, and Oliver is playing a bubble popping game with Lois,” he said, then looked past her and saw they had company. “My apologies,” he added sincerely.
“This is my fiancé, James,” Eleanor announced. “James, this is Rob Simpson-Stone, an old school friend.” James smiled and moved forward as Rob stood and held out his hand.
“Congratulations,” he said warmly.
“Thank you.” James shook Rob’s hand and stepped back so that he was next to Eleanor. Rob examined them both and nodded.
“A perfect match, hey, Jess?” he said, turning to her with a wink. She giggled.
“Anyway,” Eleanor coughed, for effect. She’d seen this often enough before, but it was still embarrassing to watch. “I only came up to let you know I’m going home now. I’ll pop in from time to time next week, but I’m hoping I won’t be needed much.”
“No. You just enjoy yourself. Go and have some beauty treatments, or something.”
“Oh don’t you worry, I fully intend to,” Eleanor assured her. She gave Rob another quick hug. “See you tomorrow, I suppose.” She wasn’t impressed with the short notice, but she had nothing else planned and it would be great to see all her old schoolmates, now that she was at peace with herself.
“Yeah, about that,” Rob said. “I’m glad you’re here actually, as it’s one less call for me to make. Don’t forget the dress code.”
Eleanor looked at Jess and they both looked back to Rob.
“Dress code?”
“Well, not dress code, as such.”
James shook his head. He’d noticed the dress code. It was typed in bold print on the back of the invitation.
“Go on,” Jess said, pushing Rob to elaborate.
“I think I might leave you to it,” he said, moving towards the door. Eleanor sidestepped to block his way.
“Oh no you don’t. What dress code?”
Rob grinned impishly. “You know how sassy we all looked at the sixth form ball? All you ladies in your fine frocks and high heels, us gents in our tuxes and bow ties?”
“Yes?” Jess and Eleanor asked slowly and together, realising exactly where he was headed with this.
“That dress code.”
“You want us to wear formal ball gowns,” Eleanor stated, not that there was any need to reiterate.
“Yes, but not any old formal ball gowns. Anyway, I really must be going now.” He backtracked and gave Jess a quick hug, both of them holding a moment longer than was necessary. “See you there,” he whispered close to her ear, drawing his lips across her cheek as he moved away. She felt her legs wobble and was glad she was still sitting down. Rob repeated the motion, though without the erotic undertones, with Eleanor, and shook James’s hand once again.
“Good to meet you,” he said. “You’re a very lucky man indeed.”
With that, he made his way, slowly and with a quick smile at Jess, back down the stairs. A couple of moments chatting with his niece Lois, and they heard his bike fire up outside, then speed off into the distance.
“I’ll wait downstairs,” James said observantly and did as indicated. Eleanor delayed until he was out of earshot.
“You are a very bad woman!”
“I didn’t do anything!” Jess protested, which was the truth. If she had led Rob on, it hadn’t been deliberately so.
“You didn’t do anything to discourage him either,” Eleanor pointed out. Jess had no defence to that one. “So did he tell you why he’s suddenly organised a reunion?”
“He’s been diagnosed with a heart condition of some sort.”
“What sort, exactly?”
“He didn’t say, but it’s the kind that could kill him at any second.”
“OK. Well, I guess that does explain things. What medication’s he on?”
“I don’t bloody know! I haven’t seen him for fifteen years. I’m hardly going to be asking him things like that now, am I?”
“I bet you’d ask him for his inside leg measurement.”
“Know it already.”
“Or the size of his…”
“And that too. James is waiting for you, he said. Hadn’t you best be going?” Jess busied herself with tidying her already tidy desk.
“Fine, fine,” Eleanor said, pretending to be offended, then as a serious aside: “If you need a bailout at any point, just give me a shout, OK?”
Jess looked up from her desk and smiled. “Thanks Ellie. I appreciate it, but hopefully I’ll behave myself tomorrow.”
Eleanor turned away before her expression betrayed what she really thought about the chances of that happening.
The dress code was the first thing Shaunna noticed—when she finally got around to opening the invitation, after much prompting and pestering from Kris—and she was utterly delighted, for in the farthest recesses of her wardrobe lurked a floor-length, red taffeta dress, with a swooping neckline studded with diamantes that continued in two parallel lines diagonally across the front of the bodice and down to the gently scalloped hem. It had been hanging there for twenty years, ever since her parents and Kris had plotted behind her back in a desperate bid to persuade her to attend the sixth form ball, and the design, with its flowing skirt, was such that it still fitted her perfectly, perhaps even better than it would have done when she was eighteen. She still had the shoes that went with it, although they were not really the sort of thing she would wear these days, but who would know? She unhooked the hanger and carefully freed the dress from its plastic cover, holding it up against herself and admiring her reflection, unaware that Kris was watching from the doorway, wearing his own sixth form ball outfit: not a tuxedo in the traditional sense, but a cropped silver jacket with rolled-up sleeves and matching fitted pants. The pointed shoes had been well worn on subsequent nights
out and had seen better days, but it was nothing that a re-heeling and a spot of shoe polish wouldn’t fix.
“Put it on,” he said. He looked like Morten Harket, Shaunna thought, standing there, with his hands resting casually in his pockets, and she could feel the knot of sexual tension building within. She dismissed it with a shudder and shooed him away so she could do as he suggested. The fabric was so soft and sensuous against her skin, and she smoothed the dress down over her hips. It felt so good. She tossed her hair back over her shoulders and checked her reflection.
“You can come back now,” she called out. Kris walked into her room—it had once been their room—and stopped in his tracks when he saw her.
“Wow.”
He moved towards her to take in the full beauty of her cleavage, the silky fabric moulding perfectly around her breasts, before falling away until it collided with the outermost curves of her hips. He couldn’t help himself and reached out and touched her bare shoulder. She tilted her head and trapped his hand with her cheek.
“Don’t,” she said. He held her gaze and she let his hand slide around to her back. He pulled her to him, until their lips were almost touching, and inhaled her scent.
“You don’t want to. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Of course I want to, but…” It was so difficult to explain, to put into words the confusion she was feeling. He was the one who ended their marriage, not her. She still loved him, and yes, she still wanted him. The easiest thing in the world would be to give in to the temptation and satiate this hunger, brought on by months of famine and need. Then what would it be like afterwards? Could they continue to share their house, pretending to their friends that all was well with their marriage, when it was a farce? Or was it? After all, what was marriage, but an enduring partnership? And hadn’t they endured!
Her momentary doubt was sufficient to allow the flames to die down to a tameable height; Kris released her and turned away.
The Harder They Fall Page 8