by Laura Kemp
Standing up, she convinced herself it was clear Simon Brown was intending to treat this baby as he had done with his first; play his part when required and fulfil his responsibilities. Nothing more.
‘Do you need anything?’ he asked, innocently.
A list popped up in her head: she needed him to love her, to tell her he had been wrong about not being able to commit to her and to be by her side so they did this together. This is not helping, Em, she said sternly to herself. Opening up to him had only caused trouble.
‘Nothing, thank you,’ she said in a clipped voice. ‘I’ll email you when I see the midwife next.’
Simon Brown nodded and went to say something. ‘Take care,’ he said, smiling his lopsided little smile which had always made her heart swell and her stomach contract. Now all she felt was devastation.
Quickly, she walked off and managed to contain her tears until she was out of earshot and the sound of her crying would be swallowed by the wind.
Back at Frankie’s
Frankie
Frankie could feel Floyd’s hot breath on her inner thigh.
Rigid and fearful, she felt herself retreat, imagining she was on the dentist’s chair. ‘I’d actually prefer to be having a filling right now’, she thought, as she focused away from his boxers and on his left calf which was resting beside her head. She began a game of dot-to-dot in the galaxy of his freckles hoping to find an exit sign somewhere near his ankle.
‘I can hear you thinking,’ Floyd whispered into her crotch. ‘Stop thinking. Remember what I said, this is about making a circle, that’s all there is to it.’ Ignoring him, she realized they hadn’t even kissed and yet here he was about to start smooching her twinkle. For her kissing was the closest she got to heaven. Face to face, mouth to mouth, the sweep of eye lashes, taking in someone else’s breath – now that was erotic. This, on the other hand, felt impersonal, anonymous. She could be here with anyone. And then it clicked, if she pretended Jason was down there, well, her tummy responded with a backflip.
‘Okay, I’m going to take my knickers off now,’ she said, shuffling them down her legs.
‘Excellent,’ Floyd murmured. ‘Me too.’
Once they’d done that, she shifted her body so her eyes – squeezed tight shut until the evil moment – were level with Floyd’s privates. Jason’s privates, she corrected herself.
‘I’m ready,’ she said.
‘Me too,’ came a voice from below.
Dear God, he’s not wrong, Frankie thought, opening her eyes, at the sight of his generously-sized thing. No wonder he couldn’t wear Speedos!
‘Do you want to… commence proceedings?’
She hummed a hesitant ‘yes’, then blew out of her cheeks.
‘Go with the flow, we can stop at any time, just relax.’
Her heart pounding, she inched her way towards him. He smelled lovely, thankfully, of clean laundry, and he had a sweet dark mole like a beauty spot to the right beneath his belly button. She closed her eyes, thinking of her husband, and pressed her lips against his stomach. Smooth and clean, his skin was warm and, when she imagined it to be the love of her life, inviting. Closer now, she moved her mouth towards him: and then she was there, on him, and she heard a murmur, which reassured her. He rocked against her lightly to help her set a rhythm and then she braced herself for the feel of his beard against her – it was going to feel like a Brillo pad, she just knew it.
What’s the point of this, she thought, I’ll never come, I’m a freak, go on give it your all, it won’t make any differ… oh God, oh God, oh God, OH GOD.
When his touch came, all there was was softness. She was swirling, first through the sea, deep underwater, then flying, soaring as colours exploded on the back of her eyelids. It was as if she was hypnotized, no longer nervous, no longer scared, he had flicked a switch and all she could feel was a rich, heavy, luxurious pleasure. But, shit, her mind flashed back to her and Jason doing exactly this position in her childhood bedroom. How she’d tried to go with it but had ended up staring at her abandoned boot-cut jeans on the floor and the stack of Charles Worthington hair products on her bedside table. To take her mind off what they were doing.
Distracted, she realized she’d pulled away from Floyd. The memory had stopped her from getting lost in the moment. She fumbled and groped and felt a panic rise at losing the plot. Here was all the evidence she needed to know she was out of her depth. The semi-darkness was disorienting and yet out of it came his hands, grounding her, pulling her back to anchor.
‘I’m here,’ he said, ‘you’ve just resurfaced, that’s all, you’re doing really well. You can do this.’
How could he be so sure? She was at a cross-roads: retreat from her fear or believe in herself the way Floyd did. His hand was on her thigh and it felt solid, secure. She felt a well of determination then. She recalled the softness she’d felt before her mind had led her to the past. And so with a deep breath, she sank back down and took him again in her mouth as they began to rock. Slowly, slowly, she found her groove. Yes, yes, she could do this!
‘That’s it,’ he said as she managed to combine the feeling and the doing until she was arching her back and pushing against him. She was in ecstasy as waves of what she’d never expected or dreamed was possible began to cover her entire body and—
‘CUUU-STARD CREAMS!’ Floyd wailed, jerking back and groaning.
But Frankie wasn’t quick enough coming to, and she cried in shock when a shot of warm liquid hit her left eye.
‘Fuck, sorry, I tried to warn you,’ Floyd said, searching the bed for something to wipe up the mess. ‘I wasn’t going to come, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t, there is absolutely no need for me to get any gratification out of this because it’s a lesson and it’s about you and—’
‘Never mind that. It stings!’ Frankie said, leaping up to run to the bathroom to splash water over herself. Looking up, she examined her screwed-up reddened eye in the mirror – and she saw she had a grin on her face. It was so inappropriate but she felt the thrill of having almost got it right.
Then Floyd’s flustered and concerned reflection appeared beside her.
‘Are you okay? Does it hurt? Oh God, don’t cry,’ he said, going to put his arm around her as her shoulders heaved up and down.
‘I’m not crying, you idiot,’ she said, gasping for air, ‘I’m laughing! This is ludicrous! How long is my eye going to be half-shut like this because I’m seeing your sister tomorrow and how am I going to explain it?’
‘I’ll Google it,’ he said, reversing, which only made her howl because he resembled a dalek with his willy at half-mast.
She grabbed a cold flannel to press against her eye and pursued him back across the hall. Leonardo was sitting at the top of the stairs, with what looked like an actual smile.
‘It’s fine,’ she said, recovering her breath as she landed on the bed beside him, ‘don’t worry, please.’ She took his phone off him and threw it onto the duvet.
‘I’m supposed to be the teacher here,’ he said, shaking his head, looking appalled at himself.
‘You are! You’ve given me hope, already.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Floyd said, perking up.
‘Yes! I really think so,’ Frankie said and then in a small voice: ‘I think I was about to, you know…’ She mouthed the word ‘orgasm’. ‘My first one from… anyone… doing… that. You were right, it is like driving, trying to do two things at once.’
Incredibly, she felt she’d achieved something here tonight: nothing major, not yet, but she had taken a step forward towards self-satisfaction for the first time.
‘Oh, well done you!’ he said, punching the air. ‘I hope you can retain this confidence and apply it next time.’
‘Thanks!’ Frankie said, feeling the glow from a good report. ‘Cuppa? Or do you need to shoot?’
‘I’ll shoot,’ he said, buckling himself up. ‘For the, er, second time tonight.’
He gave her a hug, patt
ing her on the back in praise.
Then he pulled away and looked a bit sheepish. ‘Erm, there is just one thing…’
Frankie flinched as she pulled on her joggers. She knew it, there had to be something. He was going to bring her down. Just be gentle with me, she prayed.
‘In the throes,’ he said, looking awkward, ‘you called me, er, Jason.’ Her hand covered her mouth in shock. ‘I don’t mind,’ he said, moving towards the door, ‘and no offence, but I always thought he was a bit of a wanker.’
Saturday
Letty
As the water pounded into the bath, Letty shut her eyes and inhaled the seductive scent of oranges and lavender through the steam.
It made her think of Spain: how many times had Mam tried to get her to move out there when Letty moaned down the line? ‘You’d love it, chica,’ she’d say. ‘There’s always a job for you in the restaurant, you can find yourself a nice señora!’ But she’d always had ambitions to be better than a waitress. She couldn’t speak the language either: Mam had spoken to her in Granny’s tongue but as a teenager Letty had never bothered. She’d been far more into boys and make-up. When she’d visit for a fortnight, glimpses of their life – old men arguing over dominoes, narrow alleyways and cats eating scraps of fish – did make her wonder if she was meant to be somewhere else. But something always pulled her back.
Her friends, mostly. She couldn’t imagine life without Frankie and Em around the corner. And then there was her quest for self-improvement – to make a career of her own. Now she had Lance to keep her here too. Just as she was about to get in the water, an urgent knock came at the door. She grabbed the fluffiest of white towels and went to the communal hall to peek through the spyhole.
It was Lance! In fact, more specifically, it was his disappearing back, where was he going?
She opened the door and saw boxes, piles of them, plus an exercise bike and bulging gym bags.
Then he emerged from behind the raised boot of his car with more.
‘Are you doing a car boot sale? Because in this country we do them on Sundays. In a field,’ she said.
He flashed a happy smile at her – how could he still be so handsome when his chin was clamped down on a wobbly stack of possessions which threatened to spill from his arms?
She followed him into the flat where he dumped his load. ‘What’s going on?’ she said. ‘We weren’t meant to be seeing each other tonight, were we?’
He pulled her towards him and began to kiss her neck and shoulders. ‘I know we only brought this up the other day,’ he said, cradling the small of her back so he could see her face, ‘but I just couldn’t wait any more.’
She understood him then – he was moving in! To her dismay; he had said he would wait a bit before he left Helen and Eddy. The spare room at his would be his base because he had wanted to make sure his son slowly got used to his parents being separated. Letty had gone along with it but she had been very disappointed. Delighted now, she asked why the change of heart.
‘The atmosphere there, it was affecting Eddy,’ he said, dropping his head. ‘We tried to be civil but we ended up arguing and he was seeing it all. We decided I should go. That it’d be for the best.’
Letty hugged the living daylights out of him. He’d never meant to hurt anyone, neither had she.
At least now they could show they were serious about one another and not involved in some sordid little temporary tryst. But, oh, Letty wished he’d told her he was coming: she’d wanted to make the place special for him. Clear some room in her bulging wardrobe, have fresh sheets waiting.
Yet what did it matter? He was here!
This was the commitment she’d always wanted, even if it had come out of an affair. They could right their wrongs by doing this.
‘It’s for the best. I know you feel terrible but this is for keeps. Forever. Come on, come with me, I’ve just run a bath,’ she said, leading him by the hand.
This marked the end of their guilt: this was their clean break.
Meanwhile…
Frankie
‘Sur-priiise!’
The night sky exploded with camera flashes and confetti stars as Jason’s mum arrived at her black tie birthday party.
In shock, Sheila was flapping her hands, switching between laughter and screams as she took in all the familiar faces around her. The DJ, who was positioned beneath a sail canopy hung between two fairy-lit trees, started playing ‘Happy Birthday To You’ and the crowd swept her petite frame onto the chequered black and white dance floor laid out on the lawn.
In amongst them, Frankie could almost touch the joy. Having spent an hour waiting for Sheila, the guests’ excitement had spilled over, helped along by free-flowing fizz served by waiters. Dressing up was all part of it too as sequinned gowns and shiny shoes twinkled in the disco lights.
She’d been nervous about tonight because she thought she would feel like a figure from the past. Three times, she had almost asked the cabbie to turn round on the journey from hers into the leafy suburb of Lisvane. But everyone had made a real fuss of her, and Jase, who looked very handsome in a tux, hadn’t left her side. Bob, his bear of a dad, was not one for emotions but when she walked in, his bushy eyebrows did the talking, threatening to fly off his balding head in delight. He had hugged her hard as if she was his long-lost daughter. Jimmy, Jason’s brother, had been his usual silly self, telling her she looked ‘hot’ before introducing his latest girlfriend.
Nobody else though mentioned their marriage, thank goodness; instead, they said how lovely, how really lovely, it was to see her, which made her think Jason might have been told he was mad for asking for a separation. Their warmth made her feel a part of it, in fact, it felt as though she’d never been away from all of this. They were on her side and she drew strength from it to throw herself into the party.
A hand squeezed her wrist and she turned around to see Sheila beaming and her hazel eyes sparkling beneath her spiky brunette pixie haircut.
‘This is so wonderful! I didn’t have a clue! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve missed you, darling,’ she said, kissing her cheek. As ever, she smelled of Chanel No 5, which Frankie found reassuring compared to her mum’s cloying perfume, and she looked so elegant in a cream laced cocktail dress.
Before Frankie could answer, Sheila was dragged away by one of her friends. All Frankie could do was wave and shout ‘see you later!’.
‘Told you she’d be pleased to see you,’ Jase said, offering her a fresh flute of champagne.
‘She looks so happy,’ Frankie said, before giggling as the bubbles kissed her nose. She moved into the shadows of the garden and he followed. ‘It’s a beautiful night,’ she said, taking off her knitted black bolero to reveal naked shoulders and the sweetheart neckline of her pale gold fitted floor-length dress. She’d had to leave without asking Leonardo’s opinion because, for some reason, he’d disappeared.
Jase stared at her and she recognized the look in his eyes: it still showed that she meant something to him. Had they been alone, and indeed a couple, they would’ve started to kiss.
‘I’ve been such a fool,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘I’ve…’
Her heart leaped at his words: how she wanted to hear what he was about to say. She shivered as he reached to move a stray lock of her hair which had fallen onto her collarbone. But he couldn’t say it here. She wished they were alone, away from here so they could talk properly. He stopped then as if reading her thoughts, and she cursed herself for being too sensible.
Jason pulled at the collar of his shirt. ‘It’s hot in this,’ he smiled, changing the subject, which made her feel as if she’d lost her chance. Regret tumbled inside her tummy, and she felt her face drop.
‘It was Dad’s idea for us to dress like snooker players.’
‘He’s really gone to town,’ she said, hating the return to small talk.
‘She’s worth it. And Dad’s just sold the scaffolding company and made a mint so…’
&nb
sp; ‘Oh, good for him.’ Perhaps it was time to mingle. To get away from him, because it was so very hard chit-chatting politely to her husband.
‘Yep and the new owner of the business wants me to be the boss. I’ve accepted the job.’ He rubbed his hands and beamed.
Frankie was pleased for him because he was a grafter. But she couldn’t deny the surge of bitterness inside of her – that he had everything going for him now.
And it managed to slip out.
‘You better get used to a suit then,’ she said, tightly., knowing he hated the pomp of a shirt and tie.
‘I know, it’s going to be weird being in an office and not on site. But I needed the change of scene. I think that might’ve been half the problem, you know…’
Thank goodness she hadn’t walked off to circulate – this was what he had been trying to say!
Frankie could’ve punched the air. It was a sign he’d been thinking about them and analysing what had led to his crisis. Seriously, Floyd had it all wrong when he called Jase a wanker – it was probably one of his jokes, she decided. Or he was jealous of him for some reason; Jason was very good-looking after all and he wasn’t a show-off and he had a serious side to him and… Just then, the first bars of ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’ began. It was one of Jason’s favourites – he wasn’t a music snob like Floyd.
‘You dancing?’ he asked.
‘You asking?’
He laughed and pulled her onto the dance floor where they stayed song after song, twirling and whirling, breathless with laughter and singing along.
It was only when the tempo dropped that alarm bells began to ring in Frankie’s head. Letty had told her not to do a slowie with him – she had to ‘deprive him of her oxygen’ was how Letty had put it. Frankie tried to ignore the words but they turned into capitals in her head when Percy Sledge started belting out ‘When A Man Loves A Woman’. It was the song they’d picked for their first dance as a married couple. Her head raced, wondering if he’d asked for it? Or if it was fate. Couples began melting into one and Jason was moving towards her. It would be so easy to do this now, she thought. But the intimacy here wouldn’t be on her terms; if she got the chance to feel his body against hers once more, it had to be in her bed and she hadn’t finished her course yet. If she went too early, then it could backfire and her confidence was still shaky. Even if she was ready, she couldn’t face sneaking off upstairs into his childhood bedroom. She couldn’t go back to those days, no matter how equipped she would be.