Love Patterns

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Love Patterns Page 23

by Michael B. Malone


  He pondered the strange ways of fate. He’d been miserable, in the depths of despair, then less than an hour later he’d been to bed with the girl he loved! He shook his head in bewilderment. Sometimes it seemed that someone up there, was guiding his life and occasionally playing tricks on him.

  Kirsty came back with the coffee and they couldn’t stop smiling at each other over the rims of their cups. “Do you think anyone will know?” she asked suddenly.

  He pretended not to understand. “Know what?”

  “Know we’ve made love stupid,” she giggled.

  “I don’t see how. Anyway, I couldn’t care less if the whole world knows, including your sister.”

  “I feel different, I feel …” She paused, “I must have changed.”

  Alan inspected her critically. “You’re more gorgeous than ever.” He remembered when he’d first used the word. It seemed so long ago.

  She gave him a push almost spilling his coffee. “Stop teasing.”

  He gazed at her, his eyes serious. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  She smiled. “I think sex agrees with me.”

  Alan grinned. “You enjoyed it then?”

  “It was magic Alan.” She turned her eyes on him. He felt an absurd urge to crow like a rooster, to beat his chest and shout defiance to the world, but queried.

  “What will we do after tonight? How will we meet?”

  He watched her eyes look inward. “I’ll tackle Claire tomorrow.” She paused. “Maybe I could come and stay with you?”

  He grinned. “We’ll have to share a single bed.” She grinned back.

  He remembered the trip to Iraq, looked at Kirsty, hesitated, then blurted out. “You know the trip to Iraq I told you about? Well I’ve been asked to join it.”

  “Oh! Alan.” Kirsty’s smile faded. “When do you have to leave?”

  “In about six weeks, that is if I decide to go.”

  “Will it help your career?”

  “Yes, a lot.”

  Kirsty considered. “Then you must go.”

  Alan wasn’t so sure. “What about us?”

  They had a long look at each other then. Kirsty said quietly, “I’ll still be here when you come back.”

  “You’ll wait for me then?”

  “Until I’m an old lady.”

  ‘I don’t deserve to be this happy,’ he thought.

  He stroked her hand. “I don’t think I’ll be that long.”

  “We’ll be able to phone and write?” Kirsty asked hopefully.

  “I don’t know if there will be any phones, but I’ll certainly write.”

  “Six months isn’t very long,” Kirsty consoled him. She gave him a coy glance, “and think about when you come back!”

  Alan smiled. “I knew the first time I saw you we were meant for each other.”

  “Me too.”

  “I think people are made in two halves.” He went on’ “They wander about lonely, searching for their other half but nearly everyone settles on someone like their missing half, but they are still lonely. Only a very few find the missing half of themselves.”

  “That is beautiful,” Kirsty breathed.

  He nuzzled her neck. “Nothing will be able to keep us apart. You’re on holiday now, would you like to come and stay with me and my parents in Edinburgh for a while, before I leave for Iraq?”

  He saw her eyes light up and she surprised him by suddenly kissing him. “I would love that,” she said.

  Two shadowy figures approached the gate unsteadily, then embraced. “Would you like to come in for a coffee Frank?” Claire asked eventually.

  “Okay,” was the reply. They started up the path in the darkness.

  Claire tripped and gave a yell, feeling herself falling, she instinctively grabbed hold of Frank, who, tried to break Claire’s fall. He succeeded up to a point, in that she twisted round and landed on her bottom. Frank tumbled on top of her, only managing to partly break his fall with his hands.

  Kirsty jumped up at the sound. “Oh! My God, that’s Claire.”

  Alan his bravado about Claire forgotten, stuttered, “What will we do?”

  Kirsty thought rapidly. “We’ll have to hide in my room.” She glanced around the lounge for any evidence of Alan’s presence.

  She spotted the towel, and the basin of water behind the settee, but on hearing more sounds outside, left them, hoping Claire wouldn’t come through the lounge. She switched off the light then led Alan through to the bedroom, coffee cup in hand, where they sat on the edge of the bed in the dim light, whispering quietly.

  Claire finally got enough breath back to groan. “Get off me you great oaf, you’re crushing my ribs. What happened?”

  Frank, still shaken himself, lifted part of his weight off Claire. He felt about with his hand, then swore. “Someone’s left a bloody broom lying on the path.”

  “That must have been Kirsty,” she paused. “Could you move your elbow just a bit Frank.”

  “Sure.”

  “That’s better.” They had a long kiss. Claire sighed breathlessly. “Oh! Frank.” They continued kissing. Eventually she broke off reluctantly “We can’t lie here all night, we’d better got inside.”

  Frank managed to get to his feet without standing on her then helped her up. She picked up the broom and unlocked the front door.

  She ushered Frank into the hall, put the broom in the hall cupboard, then stopped to think. The kissing and Frank’s body lying on top of her, had aroused her. She wanted him. She’d never had a man stay the night before, she wouldn’t, not with a young girl in the house, although she’d been tempted. She made her

  decision.

  “Kirsty’s old enough to understand,” she told herself They could go directly to her bedroom, but she didn’t want to appear too eager. Maybe they should have a coffee first. Whispering that she didn’t want to wake Kirsty, she took Frank’s hand and tiptoed across the lounge in the dim light from the hall.

  There was a squelching sound. She felt Frank come to a halt and pull on her hand. “Claire?” he hissed.

  “Ssh, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m standing in something!”

  “Oh! What the hell is it now!” she groaned. She switched on the light to find him standing with one foot in a basin of water. “This just isn’t our night,” she giggled.

  She noticed the towel on the settee and used it to dab his shoe and the bottom of his trousers. She took off his shoe and sock, registering that his sock had a hole in the toe, and started to dry his foot.

  Frank watched Claire’s dark hair fall over her face and followed the curve of her neck with his fingertips. She looked up, flashing a smile at him, then concentrated again on drying between his toes.

  ‘You’re beautiful’, he thought.

  They’d been friendly before, in fact they’d started to get quite serious, then Claire had gone off him. He thought he might have come on strong too soon. That was the strange thing about falling in love, if it happened to both of you it was great, but if it happened to only one, it put the other one off. He decided he would cool it and let Claire do the running this time. He reached down to stroke her hair from her face. She looked up at him smiling. He suppressed a gasp, he loved her eyes. He let his fingers run over her cheek.

  “To hell with the coffee,” Claire decided. She stood up and suddenly they were in each other’s arms kissing hungrily. After a while when they stopped for a breather. She grinned. “I can’t send you home in this state.”

  Frank grinned back. “I won’t have to crawl through a minefield or anything will I?”

  “If we do, I’ll go first,” laughed Claire. “I wonder what Kirsty’s been up to.”

  “You don’t mean she left the brush and basin there on purpose?”

  “Shh! We’re starting to get a bit loud.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” whispered Claire. “She’s been a bit strange lately.”

  “Yo
u don’t mean she’s …?” Frank stopped, startled.

  Claire giggled. She decided to wind him up. “She takes mad turns. She must be sleeping soundly. We’d better make ourselves scarce.”

  All thought of coffee and demureness forgotten, she led the way to her bedroom, with Frank limping behind, carrying his shoe and sock. Alan and Kirsty, sitting together on her bedroom floor, with their ears glued to the door, heard much of the conversation. With the events in the lounge and their whispered comments to each other, they were having a hard time stifling their mirth. When they heard Claire’s door close, Kirsty switched on the light and they exploded into hysterical laughter.

  Recovering, they had a wrestling match. Alan eventually straddled her and pinned her arms to the bed on either side of her head. He bent his head down and they exchanged a long kiss. She felt a flush suffuse her cheeks.

  She whispered in his ear. “Frank should keep her busy all night she won’t have time to bother with us.” His face became serious. She smiled.

  Kirsty woke. Alan’s arms were wrapped around her head. She lay still for a while, enjoying the sensation of his body next to hers, imprinting the strangeness of it in her memory. She remembered his shirt that she’d left soaking in the sink in her bedroom, to get the bloodstains out of his collar. She wriggled her way out of his arms, found her dressing gown, took the shirt out of the sink, and after wringing it as dry as she could, crept out of the room to hang it in the linen cupboard in the hall. Stifling a burst of laughter when she saw Frank’s trousers hanging up and his shoe and sock on top of the boiler. She hung the shirt at the back and draped some towels in front to hide it. Giggling at the intrigues that were suddenly taking place in the house, she switched the light out and crept back to her bedroom.

  She dropped her dressing gown at her bedside, and shivering because she liked to leave her window open at night, she wriggled her way between Alan’s arms, and snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth of his body. She sighed contentedly. How things had changed. A short time ago she was miserable and alone. Now it was as if the whole world had opened, she had a lover and was gloriously in love. She remembered him asking her to go to Edinburgh. She smiled, she knew what it meant when a man went out of his way to introduce a girlfriend to his parents. She switched on the bedside light. Alan murmured and moved slightly, then his deep breathing started again. She sat half up to look at him. The grazes on his cheeks had dried up and the muscles of his face had relaxed. He looked vulnerable, like a child. She wanted to lift him and hold him to her breast. He looked tired and feverish and she felt guilty. She touched his face softly, avoiding the grazes, and remembered feeling the healed scar on the back of his head. He was a warrior who’d fought to win her, and carried the scars of his battles with him. She smiled at her romantic thoughts.

  It was strange. She’d felt no embarrassment when he’d touched and kissed the parts of her that she hid under clothes. She’d wanted him to look, she’d enjoyed it. The sheer intimacy of letting him see her, and sharing their passion had been beautiful. ‘How could two people be so close?’

  The words of the ancient marriage ceremony came to her. ‘With my body I thee worship’ and she understood the meaning for the first time. She touched his face again and stroked his fair hair, feeling the fine strands between her fingers and smoothing them back into place. As her fingers touched the side of his head, she felt a sudden premonition. She shivered, suddenly afraid. Switching the light out she snuggled tightly into his chest.

  She woke to the insistent buzzing of her alarm, lay for a while savouring Alan next to her, then kissed him awake. He ran his arms down her back to the swell of her hips.

  “I thought I’d been dreaming,” he murmured.

  “You’ll have to leave before Claire gets up,” she warned. It had the desired effect. At the mention of Claire’s name, he jumped out of bed with alacrity.

  “I put your shirt in the linen cupboard, I’ll get it,” she told him. She returned a few moments later.

  “Any sign of Claire?” he asked nervously as he buttoned up his shirt.

  She tried hard not to smile. “Frank’s clothes have been taken out of the linen cupboard, but I don’t know if he’s still here. I haven’t heard anything.” When he was dressed, she gave him a last lingering kiss, then pushed him to the door when he showed signs of dallying

  “Meet me at the union at one o’clock,” he whispered, as she led him out of the room.

  She looked around then signalled that the way was clear.

  As he tiptoed through the lounge, he heard muffled voices and stopped. After standing stock still for what seemed like an age and hearing no more sounds, he continued. When he neared the hall door he stopped, petrified. By the dim light of the glass panel above the front door, he saw Claire with her back to him, kissing Frank. He hardly dared to breathe, let alone move. Just then he heard Kirsty’s door shutting.

  He watched Claire jump. “Oh! Shit!” she hissed. “That’s Kirsty, hurry.” And she left Frank to see himself out, he saw her rush back along the hall. Alan took the chance offered to him and dodged out, before Frank shut the door. He and Frank looked at each other and grinned. He held out his hand.

  “I’m Frank, I’m seeing Claire.”

  Alan shook his hand. “I’m seeing Kirsty.”

  They gave each other an understanding smile then started to walk along the road together. Frank slowed, “Is she a bit …” He stopped, not wishing to offend Alan but gave him a meaningful look.

  Alan looked at him. “Mad?”

  Frank nodded. “Yes.”

  “She can go berserk.”

  Frank looked shocked. “You don’t say. How do you deal with that?”

  “I try to keep out of her way.” They took a few more steps then Frank stopped and turned to Alan, puzzlement written all over his face

  “Doesn’t that make it a bit difficult to have a romance?”

  Alan looked at him. “Yes, I hope you won’t tell her.”

  Frank seemed startled. They started to walk again. “You are talking about Kirsty?” he asked.

  Alan was surprised. “No, I was talking about Claire.” After much laughter and explanation, they eventually got the misunderstanding cleared up.

  At the end of the road they started to turn in opposite directions. They decided they would go out for a drink sometime and Frank gave Alan his phone number. Alan promised to ring him.

  As they were parting, Frank declared. “Women sure make life complicated, don’t they?”

  “You can say that again,” Alan agreed.

  Kirsty lay back in the hot bath reliving the night’s delights. She washed, then after she’d dried, examined her reflection in the mirror for any changes. She felt she had grown, no longer a girl but a woman. She stretched, feeling sensuous and feline. She ran her hands over her curves, her skin feeling as soft as velvet to the sensitive nerve endings in her fingers and remembered the aching wonderful feeling of Alan’s hands touching her. She took in the fullness of her breasts and remembered when she’d started changing into a woman. Older boys had smiled at her as if welcoming her into the hallway of the adult world. She remembered how their eyes had travelled to below her shoulder line to her budding bust. How proud she’d been. She dressed, then danced through to the kitchen for a coffee.

  As she tidied the lounge she wondered what to tell Claire if she asked about the basin and the towel. The truth would be best, she decided, since she was going to broach the subject of Alan staying anyway.

  Satisfied that she’d put the room to rights, she decided to start breakfast as she could hear sounds from the bathroom which meant Claire was having a bath. Later, after setting a place for Claire, she took her coffee through to the lounge and flicked through the morning paper.

  Finding the bathroom hot and steamy, Claire realised that Kirsty must already be up. She settled down for a long, perfumed soak, feeling happier than she had for weeks and reliving the pleasures of the night. Frank was a rather l
ugubrious character, chewing over a statement, or a question before he replied, which made him seem slow. She hadn’t realised he would make such an exciting lover. She padded into the lounge, in slippers and dressing gown, carrying a mug of coffee and a plate of toast.

  “Oh! My ribs,” she moaned when she saw Kirsty.

  Kirsty giggled. “You must have had a good time. How was the disco?”

  “Great!” Claire replied. “I don’t know why I ever broke off with Frank, he’s okay. He’s got his own electrical business now.”

  “You might get him to repair our vacuum cleaner.”

  “That reminds me. What was the broom doing in the garden? I fell over it and Frank fell on top of me. That’s why I have sore ribs.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kirsty tried to look contrite. “I was sweeping and forgot it.”

  “Sweeping the garden?” Claire queried. “Oh well it doesn’t matter. It was quite funny really, when I got my breath back,” she laughed. “I don’t know what the neighbours will think though, Frank lying on top of me and us both giggling and trying to get ourselves untangled.”

  Kirsty smiled. “I wish I’d seen it.”

  Claire looked at Kirsty suspiciously. It struck her suddenly that after the misery of the last two weeks, Kirsty’s face was glowing, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

  “What have you been up to?” she demanded. She made a lightning guess. “He was here last night, wasn’t he?”

  Kirsty gave a huge smile. “Yes Claire.”

  “You broke your promise.”

  “Yes Claire.” Claire paused to inspect Kirsty, she did look different, she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “You’re different”

  “Yes Claire.” Kirsty smiled broadly.

  “You’re radiant!” Realisation dawned. and she jumped up and glared down at her sister.

  “You did it with him, didn’t you?”

  Kirsty’s smile got even broader. “Yes Claire.”

  Claire felt her face flush with anger. “You’re a filthy disgusting slut.”

 

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