Unspeakable

by Marturano, Tony

  “Out? Out where?”

  “Shopping,” she said, gleefully, as she watched him dry his midriff and resisting the urge to put her hands on him.

  They were already running late and there was no time for that.

  She sat down on the lid of the toilet seat, as he moved to the basin and began brushing his teeth.

  “So, what’s brought this on?” he asked.

  “Oh, I just think you and I both need it. Oh, I’ve called the caterers to confirm and they’ll be here around three-thirty this afternoon. Everything’s set for tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  She pulled a quizzical face, “Dinner, Rupert!”

  “Oh God, I’m sorry, Ash. I forgot all about it.”

  “Ha, well it’s a good job I haven’t. Don’t worry about it. It’s all in hand. Hence why we need to hurry because I want to be here when they arrive.” She paused for thought and then added, “Although, I have been wondering, do you think this is still a good idea?”

  Rupert looked at her with a mouth full of toothpaste and garbled, “Why wouldn’t it be? As you say, we both need some cheering up, right? It’s been a bloody intense week.”

  “Yeah, well, cheering up and your cousin,” she shook her head, “not necessarily synonymous.”

  Rupert rolled his eyes and proceeded to brush his teeth.

  “OK, happy hosts it is.” Then, she had another thought, “Hey, it occurred to me. This is going to be the first dinner party we host here, together,” she said with a big smile.

  “You’re right,” he said, spitting out toothpaste. “I like the idea even more now.”

  He winked at her.

  She looked at him with deep affection and touched his bare arm “Are you okay, baby?”

  “Never been better,” he said, forcing a smile, and giving her another of his trademark winks that he knew she loved.

  She stood up, hugged him from behind and kissed his shoulders.

  The squeeze carried a lot of words and he smiled at her in the mirror.

  There was so much they needed to talk about, but neither wanted to contemplate that right now. They both just wanted, needed to be who they usually were.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m….Ew, you’re all wet!” She squealed, pulling away, abruptly. “Hurry up!” she added, tapping his backside and smiling mischievously before leaving the room.

  His reflection returned her smile, but it disappeared the moment she was no longer in sight.

  Half an hour later, they were both riding a cab to London’s shopping mecca, Oxford Street, which was already packed with Saturday, and early Christmas, bargain hunters.

  London’s Oxford Street shopping is a wonderful experience, but early Christmas shopping is a whole different thing.

  Granted, there are hordes of people, and yes there’s way too much jostling, waiting, and queueing, but the atmosphere is unique. The sights, sounds, and the exhilaration of Christmas shopping in the city is unparalleled, and an event anticipated and enjoyed by thousands each and every year.

  They stepped out of the cab, into a crisp morning, and a breeze that brought with it the fresh scent of cinnamon.

  Above them, hanging across the streets, were giant white spheres, and the skeletons of stars and umbrellas patiently awaiting the official switch on, that would eventually dazzle late night shoppers in a seasonally magical technicolor.

  Presently, the sun was performing that task, shining brightly in a clear autumnal sky, and it worked wonders to lift Rupert’s and Ashley’s spirits.

  They held hands as they made their way through the throng. It felt surprisingly good to be around other people, as they both felt as if they’d been confined to some kind of three-dimensional nightmare over the last week. They’d moved from building to building, peculiarity after peculiarity and, unlike them, had communicated through a collection of terse conversations.

  They had both secretly decided to put the events of the past week behind them, to enjoy the day and consign whatever spectres haunting their thoughts to one side as they enjoyed the simple act of being together.

  And enjoy they did.

  They shopped, snapped selfies, sang with street performers, and, much to Ashley’s surprise and utter delight, detoured to Tiffany & Co. on Old Bond Street, where they selected his and hers engagement rings.

  Needless to say, that the usually tough auburn-haired beauty became as gooey as she was excited, as emotional as she was in love.

  When they left Tiffany’s, before she’d even had a chance to speak to Rupert about what had just happened, he spontaneously pulled her to him and kissed her, passionately.

  The kiss was long, lingering and deep, as if these were their very final moments together. Both, were completely oblivious to the world around them, and the fact that they happened to be standing in the middle of the street and had brought both cars and people to a standstill. Some cheered, some clapped while others looked for movie cameras, wondering if the couple were actors shooting a scene.

  The moment was memorable as it was magical, and stayed with them, as they now sat sharing an iced bun and sipping hot chocolate, in a department store café.

  Of course, there were moments where their thoughts strayed to the events of the past week, but both refused to entertain these right now.

  Soon maybe, but not now.

  So, the conversation changed to the evening’s dinner party and what they’d both be wearing.

  Outside, an armada of black rain clouds moved into position and prepared for the assault.

  Meanwhile, three stories below, in Menswear, Rachel and Jason were discussing that very same thing.

  They had already stopped by Womenswear, and had spent much longer than Jason would have liked choosing Rachel’s dress for the evening. It was an expensive gift from him.

  Now, it was his turn to try on a suit, leaving Rachel with her thoughts.

  After yesterday’s argument, she’d actually wondered what would become of them, since things didn’t appear to be turning out as she had expected. They certainly hadn’t lived up to her romanticised view of what life would be like, living in London.

  Rachel appreciated that it would take some time for them both to find their role in the city, and their place in each other’s lives.

  But so far, they hadn’t really seen much of each other and when they did, they argued.

  She knew noone. All she had was that creepy job in the basement which, on the surface, seemed like Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous but was more like…

  …She shivered at the thought of what had taken place in their building just a few days ago.

  Do you even want to live here anymore? Where would you go? And what about your boyfriend?

  Exactly.

  But then, he hadn’t turned out to be the knight in shining armour she believed him to be or, more precisely, that he had shown himself to be.

  Ever since she had arrived in the city, Jason seemed different. Yes, he was the same person, and all of the things she loved about him were still there, but now there seemed to be something else. He was often distracted, as if he was with her, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

  And this left her feeling alone.

  That was until about an hour after Jason had stormed out. She was mindlessly watched a black and white movie, when she heard the front door slam. But she didn’t move from her position on the bed, not even when she heard him calling to her.

  In fact, it was only when Jason walked into the room, and she could gauge the humble tone in his voice, that she shifted her focus and spontaneously giggled; Jason was hiding his face behind one of the biggest bouquets of flowers she had ever seen. In front of them, a label read, SORRY.

  In his other hand, he held a big box of chocolates, and it was only after he was inspired by her giggles, that he peeked out from behind the foliage, and batted supplicating eyelashes for forgiveness.

  He followed that up by
saying he was an idiot (or in his words, a dick) and that he was really sorry, and added that if she agreed to go shopping with him, he would buy her any outfit she fancied.

  They hugged, and nearly an hour later, they were here.

  “…Rach?”

  It was Jason calling to her from the changing room hallway. He was wearing a pair of black trousers underneath a denim shirt. The appearance was somewhat odd, but failed in no way to diminish his good looks.

  “What do you think?”

  He twirled for her.

  She admired the way the trousers hugged his backside and then said, thoughtfully, “They look good, but the others may be less tight around your thighs.”

  “Okay,” he said with a smile. Then, he jerked his head. “Come down here. That way it’ll be easier for me to show you, rather than having to walk out each time.”

  She looked around. There were shoppers nearby, but none paying attention to them. “Um, not sure I’m allowed in the men’s dressing room,” she said, quietly.

  “Don’t worry,” he winked. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  With a giggle, she followed him down the hall and leant on the wall opposite the changing cubicle as Jason, all but his feet, disappeared behind a blue curtain.

  She kept a lookout for staff members and or other customers, but there were none.

  As she was distracted doing that, a hand shot out from the cubicle and tugged her inside.

  Jason, pulled the curtain shut behind them.

  “Shhh,” he said, putting his finger over her mouth. He was naked but for a pair of tight white briefs that betrayed his arousal.

  Partially because he wanted to, but also because it was somewhat cramped inside the cubicle, he pressed up against her.

  “We are going to get into serious trouble,” she whispered with a giggle.

  “Only if you aren’t quiet,” he said with sparklingly mischievous eyes.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he said, pulling at her jeans.

  She giggled. “Jay!”

  “Shhh,” he put a finger to her mouth, and then traced it down her body and in between her legs, making her draw a sharp breath.

  She giggled some more. “Your hands are cold!”

  “They won’t be soon,” he whispered as his finger probed deeper, causing her to close her eyes and gasp.

  “Hmm, that’s it,” he said, “Just checking we’re both on the same wavelength.”

  He fumbled with her tight jeans until he eventually yanked them down, aggressively.

  “Careful!” she complained.

  “Shhh,” was his only response.

  He had that look in his eyes, the same one he had the day she arrived.

  On the other hand, she hadn’t really looked him in the eyes during their lovemaking. Most of their encounters were either in the dark, or early in the morning when she wasn’t facing him.

  Just as well, because there was something about that look, that lustful glazed stare that unnerved her, as if he only had one thing on his mind.

  Something that had to be satisfied. Something that she could not deny him. She was, after all, his woman and he had needs, as did she, although she did wish he would take things a bit slower.

  He would, she told herself, in time. Just be patient.

  Something stung between her legs, and it yanked her back to the present; Jason hadn’t removed her panties, but was merely pulling the crotch to one side, causing the lining to bite into her flesh.

  “Wait!”

  But he’d already pushed his way deep inside causing her to yelp.

  He grunted in her ear as the warm satisfaction of the act spread up through his loins.

  He pulled out, teased her with his tip and then thrust deep once more.

  He was hurting.

  Not only was her flesh being chaffed, but her panties were restricting her movement which in turn kept her thighs together, tightening and thus amplifying his pleasure, but pinching her skin.

  “Ja…aa…..so…n … .s to p….” she mumbled, as he moved inside her, urgently, desperately.

  He was like a wild animal, panting against her face. He kissed and licked it, while his muscular forearms pulled at her underwear; the strain tighter and tighter, the cut in her skin, deeper and deeper. The thrill of doing her there, in the cubicle, in that public place where anyone, at any moment could pull back the curtain and see them, accentuated his excitement.

  He was breathing heavily, working much faster now and, suddenly, she was aroused; the pain, his passion, his breathing was turning her on, engorging her with desire, flooding her with love.

  Her mouth fell open, and she began to moan in between short, shallow breaths, that were silenced by the clamp of his hand over her lips.

  She urged him to continue, as they both grappled for the best position with the minimum amount of noise. She licked his hand, desperate for his mouth on hers, she wanted to cry out, beg him not to stop, tell him never to stop, and she was there, almost there, and then…

  …There was one sudden thrust, a groan, a shudder, and then nothing.

  He remained that way, panting and swallowing for a few seconds, then, he kissed her on the cheek, released her thigh and withdrew back into his briefs.

  He smiled his sleepy, sexy smile that for her, at that moment, was empty; full of promise and no substance.

  Then, as soon as she recomposed herself, pulled her jeans back up, he kissed her on the mouth.

  “That was fucking awesome!” he whispered, excitedly, with a big grin.

  She said nothing.

  “I love you,” he said, pecking her on the cheek once more.

  Then, he peeked out of the cubicle to find two lads grinning at him. He exchanged a knowing look, gave them a wink and then called back, “All clear.”

  He took Rachel’s hand, “Now, let’s go get my suit.”

  44 The Dinner

  Saturday night was bitterly cold, but the rain that seemed incessant of late had gone, leaving a glistening and relatively quiet street, but for the sound of water rushing to nearby drains.

  The black Jaguar stopped outside of the Heron Heights gates, and idled, as its passengers alighted.

  Elisabeth Harrison; nails painted red, carefully stepped out of the car in an effort to avoid splashing dirty rainwater over her white pantsuit ensemble.

  “Fucking weather….” She mumbled wrapping herself in a black cashmere pashmina as Adam, dressed in a black suit, joined her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked.

  “I already told you. I’m fine,” she retorted.

  Adam’s concern had stemmed from the fact that earlier, as they were dressing for dinner, Elisabeth had complained about being nauseous, and had even come close to retching.

  Elisabeth had been feeling like this for over a week now, and the symptoms seemed to be getting progressively worse. Not that she shared that information with Adam. She told him that her state was a reaction to knowing she was going to be spending yet another evening with Ashley and, as if to make matters worse, two of her newfound friends.

  Why did that woman have to hang around her cousin anyway? And why was he too blind to see her for what she really was; a gold digging slut.

  These thoughts, and others, had continued to churn through her mind, even while she prayed to the porcelain god in the bathroom.

  She knew she couldn’t be pregnant. She had lost that ability with the miscarriage many years before. Not that anybody knew; the love that had left her heart as baron as her womb was her secret pain to bear.

  Craig was a barman at one of London’s most exclusive clubs. One that, back then, was frequented by pop stars, actors, politicians and Elisabeth Harrison.

  He was nearly twenty years her junior and towered over six feet, with scraggly blonde hair, a crooked nose that had been broken sometime during his teens, and grey eyes.

  He hailed from the Northwest of England. His ambition was to become a stunt double, which saw
him gym train daily.

  In fact, it was his drive to hit the big time that compelled him to emigrate south, to work. Eventually, he landed a job in a place where he hoped a chance encounter would change his fortunes forever.

  Yet Craig’s best asset wasn’t his ambition, nor his fit body, but his cheeky charm. He was a confident northern lad, who wasn’t afraid to speak to, or flirt with, anyone when he was behind the bar. In fact, someone once told him that he had enough charisma to charm candy from a pouting child.

  He liked that.

  That person was Elisabeth.

  She was smitten the moment he flashed his trademark grin at her. She’d never met anyone like him. Nobody who met her sarcasm with his own, who could breathe fire on fire.

  And she liked that.

  She had to have him.

  That’s why she returned to the club night after night, week after week, until he finally led her out to the backstreet alleyway, and serviced her against a damp, moss-riddled wall.

  Now that was passion.

  She was tired of dating the stuffy Giles, and the repressed Piers of the world, she wanted, she needed, hungered for a bit of rough, and, most importantly, a man who wasn’t intimidated by her. Someone who was, or at least believed himself to be, her equal.

  And the fact that the cocky bastard had the audacity to lead her, Elisabeth Harrison, outside and do that to her that night told her everything she needed to know.

  They spent the next few months enjoying each other. They jetted away for lusty weekends, and for shopping in some of the most expensive boutiques on earth. She loved being with him, he made her laugh, as well as marvel at his ability to engage with, and amuse, complete strangers.

  He was everything she’d ever wanted. Maybe not as cultured as her ideal husband, but what he lacked in social graces, he more than made up for everywhere else.

  One time, they had been driving through Devon, in the brand new BMW she had bought him. Craig stopped at a small fishing village he used to visit as a child.

  There, he had parked in a space overlooking the harbour, and bought them fish and chips.

  They ate as the sun set and the trawlers drifted in.