Forever Is Over

by Wade, Calvin

  “Well, I hope so Jemma otherwise you will have to move in with me.”

  “Seriously, it’ll be fine!”

  “I’ll give you three months, Jemma. I’ll come across every week to check how you are getting on. If you’re not keeping on top of everything and I mean everything, I will be making you pack your bags and move to mine.

  I expect the washing and ironing to be done, every room to be tidy and I also expect boyfriends just to visit for the evening, not stay the night. If I find either of you young ladies turning this house into a brothel, I will guarantee you, I will pack your bags myself and drive you both over to the Wirral.

  At your age, I am not expecting you to show the level of maturity necessary to run a household on your own, but you have three months to prove me wrong!”

  When ‘Tut’ was saying this, I was 100% certain everything would work out fine. I expected Kelly and I to work together to make it all happen. I thought three months would pass without incident and the dark days were over. I was totally wrong. Within that three months, everything changed. The relationship I held dearest was totally torn to pieces and as a direct result of the events that triggered this breakdown, Kelly and I did not see or speak to each other for the next ten years.

  Richie

  As dawn became morning on the “Sunny Road”, I felt it was time for Kelly and I to head home, to my home anyway. We had talked through everything we could possibly talk through, the Hillsborough tragedy, Kelly’s mother’s death, Kelly’s bizarre childhood growing up with a drunk, the strong bond she had established with her sister, the possibility of running away, our love for each other and what we thought the future would bring. We re-emphasised our plans to meet up right there, on the “Sunny Road”, every sunny 4th July for the rest of our lives, no matter what and, in that moment, I was convinced it would not be necessary as we would be together for the long haul. The fact that I was totally in love with Kelly, despite her mother’s death, seemed like confirmation that nothing was ever going to come between us. For the first time that morning, the sun hid behind a fluffy, white cloud and I took this as a sign that it was time to go.

  “Come on, Kelly! Time to head off!” I said as I stood up, knocking the grass off my backside.

  Two handed, I gripped Kelly’s hands in an attempt to pull her up, but she resisted, pulling back against me.

  “No, please Richie, can we not stay a little longer?”

  “We need to head back, Kelly, you’re going to have to get that visit to the police station out the way at some point, you may as well get it done before you get too tired, whilst you are still on your toes and can concentrate properly.”

  “I know! I know! Just not yet! Please just sit down with me.”

  “OK.”

  I sat back down.

  “Give me a hug,” Kelly requested.

  We hugged. I loved hugging Kelly, just holding her tightly used to give me goose pimples. She always smelt divine and no matter what the circumstances, I would always drift off to a world that was uncomplicated and negativity no longer existed, just joy and happiness. I was savouring every second of that hug, when Kelly pulled away.

  “Richie, can we make love?”

  This caught me off guard. My first thought was that I was wearing pyjamas under my clothes, not altogether sexy.

  “Now?”

  “If you want to.”

  I started to twitch a little. We had done a lot of the stuff that girls magazines describe as “heavy petting”, but had always avoided taking things that one step further. I suspected that I was somewhat unusual for a male, but it was probably me that had been reluctant to make that final step. We had never discussed our avoidance of sex, but I knew that if I had orchestrated it during those heated moments, Kelly would not have stopped me.

  I was just scared of that next step. The fear emanated from a myriad of sources, including “the lump”, potential premature ejaculation, potential pregnancy, potential lack of size and the potential of things changing in our relationship, once it became a sexual relationship. Sometimes the journey is better than the destination and I was scared in case this is how things turned out. I wasn’t a virgin, but I wanted everything to be right the first time with Kelly, as I pretty much knew she was.

  Given how stunning Kelly was, with those porcelain features and mesmerising green eyes, I am sure 99.9% of teenage males in my position would have asked no further questions, unbuckled their jeans, whipped down their pyjamas and got going, but I was more than a little apprehensive.

  “Why now, Kelly?”

  “Do you not want to?”

  “I desperately want to, I just want it to be right. I love you more than you’ll ever know Kelly Watkinson and because of that, I only want to do this if it’s going to be perfect.”

  That was as honest as I could be.

  Kelly took my hands and played with my fingers as she responded.

  “Richie, this is perfect. Look at this place! The view, the sunshine just creeping back from under the clouds, this is our “Sunny Road”, Richie, it always will be our special place, if we did this, it will be even more special to us.”

  I was still hesitating.

  “Should we be doing this now though? After everything that has just happened?”

  “Absolutely! Once we leave here today, no matter what, our world will continue to change. I have no idea how things will turn out, but I know my world changed forever last night when I charged out my room. In many ways, I wish I’d have just continued to be the coward and left the heroics to Jemma, but it’s too late to change that now. What is done, is done. All I want now, is to leave here having lost my virginity to the only boy I have ever loved. I adore you, Richie and whatever happens, if we make love now, I will never forget how much you meant to me.

  You said you wanted it to be perfect, well if we make love here, this morning, on the “Sunny Road”, if it lasts three seconds or half an hour, I can guarantee, in my eyes, it will be perfect.”

  They were the last words spoken on the “Sunny Road” that morning.

  I could have said,

  “What if someone sees us?” or

  “There’s something I need to tell you first,” but I held those words back.

  At first, we just hugged. Long, meaningful hugs. Then we kissed, slowly and passionately. When I felt ready, I undid the button on my jeans and as I undid Kelly’s, she pulled keenly on my top and then slipped my jeans off. The undressing process was like the kisses, slow and tender. Pyjamas are easy to take off at the height of passion! I did fluff my lines a little when I failed to unclasp Kelly’s bra after three or four attempts, but silently and methodically, Kelly took the lead and slipped her bra off as though it was as easy as flicking a switch. Kelly’s breasts were wonderfully pretty and she rested her head back on the grass as I caressed them. Then, as the silence was broken by soft moans, I headed downwards.

  I know this is a soppy confession and not in the least bit masculine, but when my tongue ventured inside of Kelly’s body I had tears in my eyes. Everything about Kelly whispered perfection and I felt humbled that she loved me enough to allow me to be the first. Sensing my tongue could not maintain its involvement without other areas calling a halt to proceedings, Kelly guided me upwards and I held her face in my hands and caressed her soft, wet lips as I lay on top of her. With a little guidance, our two bodies became one.

  I would love to say that with our bodies entwined, I thrust deeply into Kelly, time after time, providing her with wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure, as she wept tears of joy, but life is not like that. I did, however, manage to bite into my bottom lip long enough and hard enough to last for a couple of minutes, before being overcome by a series of shakes that McDonalds or Elvis Presley would have been proud of.

  As we dressed in the spring sunshine, we exchanged smiles, with Kelly being the first to speak as we held hands on our walk back home.

  “I told you it would be perfect!” was all she said.
/>   Kelly

  Adapting to life as a murderer is not easy. Every knock at the door, every telephone call and every tap on the shoulder generates a feeling of impending doom. For several weeks, I could see no way forward other than confessing to the police and serving the time that my actions warranted. The only two people who were aware of my guilt, Jemma and Richie, both argued that a confession would be nonsensical. My mother was dead, I had only acted instinctively to defend Jemma and there was no intention for my actions to result in her death. Time is a healer though and the urge to confess, although never completely disappearing, diminished by the day.

  The fact that Jemma and I continued to live in the house where Mum died, did not aid my emotional recovery. The staircase was a constant reminder of that fateful night and every room brought back memories of my mother. I pleaded with Jemma to join me in looking for somewhere else to live, but although she was extremely sympathetic, Jemma explained that we had re-negotiated the tenancy agreement with Mr. Bukhari after Mum’s death and we had to stay there for six months, after which we could move on. If we didn’t stay for six months, future landlords would not look upon us favourably. I understood, but understanding and liking something can be world’s apart, so I ended up spending as little time as possible in that house and every possible moment I could with Richie.

  I had become totally besotted with Richie Billingham. In a sea of uncertainty, I saw Richie as my life raft. Richie had a tendency to worry about minor things, but when it came to the major ones, inexplicably he had an aura of calmness. Despite knowing exactly what had happened to my mother, in those first few difficult weeks, it appeared his love for me was unfaltering. We were both totally convinced that we would be together forever, that Richie would father my children and our love would never die. The morning after Mum’s death, we made love in the fields on the “Sunny Road”. It was my first time, our first time and it was gentle and delightful. In the days that followed, as spring headed towards summer and the daylight hours lasted longer, the “Sunny Road” became our sanctuary and we would spend hour after hour there, talking, hugging, laughing, crying and making love.

  Something deep within me should have warned me that it was not going to last. When Richie and I first started dating, I was struck by his unwavering faith in our ability to stay together. Having been raised in a world of negativity and pessimism, I found it difficult to buy into this world of fairytale endings. At that stage, Richie was convinced we would stay together, whilst I thought at some stage things would change. If I’m honest, I thought his love for me would die. The more time I spent with Richie though, the more I found his faith in our collective destiny was warranted and I too found myself believing, or being convinced, that we belonged together.

  I don’t remember the exact moment things changed, it wasn’t a gradual process, it was a quickfire one, but around a month after Mum died, all of a sudden, Richie’s behaviour changed. We did not row, we did not bicker, there was no defining moment that seemed to signal the end, Richie just changed. It was like someone else had taken over his body and we suddenly became strangers. It would be wrong of me to say he went cold on me, but without a shadow of a doubt, the full on, passionate, all consuming relationship that we had became less intense.

  Relationships to some degree are about life patterns. If your boyfriend buys you flowers every Saturday, then one Saturday he arrives at your house without them, it is only natural to wonder why. If, like in my relationship with Richie, he wants to spend every spare minute with you, then all of a sudden he wants to spend his spare moments alone, its only natural to question why things have changed.

  Spare moments alone were not the only sign, our trips to the “Sunny Road” were suddenly avoided and the times we did spend together were less tender, some nights were totally passion free with just a peck on the cheek at the end of the evening. We had been so close for so long, there was no way I wasn’t going to question Richie about the changes in his attitude. I took his hand in mine one evening at his Mum’s and came right out with it,

  “What’s going on, Richie?”

  Richie immediately wriggled out of my grasp, his body language contradicted his response.

  “What do you mean, ‘what’s going on?’ Nothing is going on!”

  “Richie, you’ve changed. You just don’t seem to feel that same way about me that you used to.”

  “I haven’t changed!”

  “Don’t deny it, Richie. I was the one who used to say that this might not last forever and you were the one that was offended by that statement. Now though, when I want to see you in the evening, you often say you are stopping in. When I go to kiss you, you turn your head. It’s like you feel guilty about something. Do you feel guilty because you don’t love me any more?”

  Richie hugged me. A genuine hug, not a token one. He looked hurt that I had said this.

  “Kelly, I love you as much as I have ever loved you. If not more.”

  “What’s changed then? Is it anything to do with what happened to Mum?”

  Richie shook his head.

  “Kelly, your Mum dying did not change how I felt about you one bit.” “Then why the change of attitude?”

  “I’ve just got a lot on mind, Kelly. I thought I was hiding it from you, but obviously I was not making a very good job of it.”

  “Richie, you aren’t the only one with things on their mind, you know! I’m still petrified that the police will send me to jail, but that hasn’t changed how I treat you. What is it on your mind that has you acting so differently?”

  Richie audibly gulped.

  “I just haven’t wanted to burden you with it, with everything you have on your plate, right now.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s just…….it’s just that I’m scared that I….”

  Richie could not get his words out. I could tell he was on the verge of something major. He seemed like he was going to break down in tears and confess something to me, something incredibly important. Richie then took a deep breath and after he did that his composure returned. I am 100% sure, what he eventually said was not what he had originally planned to say.

  “It’s just that I’m scared that you might move to your grandmother’s. I can’t drive. How would our relationship cope if I was in Ormskirk and you were on the Wirral?”

  This was drivel. I did not believe him.

  “And that’s why you’ve been acting so strange?”

  “Yes….”

  Poppycock!

  “I didn’t realise I had been acting strange, but I guess so. Maybe I’ve been inadvertently trying to prevent myself getting too used to seeing you all the time, because if you move to the Wirral, I won’t get to see you every day.”

  It didn’t seem too much of an issue to me. It was a forty minute train journey away. I started to think perhaps this was the real issue after all. Richie did sometimes worry about inconsequential things, maybe this was a big deal to him. I took his hands again.

  “Richie, don’t be so silly! Jemma and I are doing just fine at our place and if everything continues like it is right now, we won’t be moving anywhere. We’re paying the bills, we’re keeping the place spotless, Nan’s delighted with us. She threatens to ship us over to the Wirral, but she doesn’t want us there really, we’d get in the way of her trips to play bowls and her coffee mornings. She just says it to make sure we behave ourselves!

  “Don’t worry, Richie! I’m not going anywhere!”

  “Phew!”

  As soon as he said, ‘phew’, I flipped right back to not believing him. It was just said without any conviction. I could not put my finger on what it was, but there was certainly something the matter with Richie. At that point, I had no idea, but soon enough I thought I had discovered the root of the problem and when I did, the love that we had built up came crashing down quicker than a Fred Dibnah chimney.

  Margerita McGordon

  Majorca is fantastic in the Spring. Wally and I are both in our seven
ties now and although in our younger days, we loved the intense heat of July and August, as we were both real sun worshippers, these days warm is wonderful. We have had a villa in Costa D’En Blanes, for seventeen years now and have headed out for a six week holiday there from mid-April to the end of May, for the last nine years. Karen, one of our daughters and her husband, Andrew, often head over for the last week of May and then stay there for a further couple of weeks after we head home. Our other daughter, Paula, rarely comes over, she has an olive skinned complexion and since she was a child has avoided the sun like a bat. Paula’s always there to pick us up from the airport though!

  For those six weeks, we just love sitting on the balcony, smelling the sea air and reading a good book, or at least I do, anyway! Wally tends to find odd jobs to do around the villa whilst listening to the BBC World Service on the radio. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Wally read a book, he’ll read The Daily Bulletin or The Sun, but after the awful tragedy at Hillsborough, which happened just the day before we went away, he made a stance to never read The Sun again, so he read The Daily Express this time.

  I think he misses the half-naked, glamour pusses on Page Three, but he was so disgusted with them after Hillsborough (the bosses at “The Sun”, not the Page 3 girls), that he was willing to forsake Sam Fox and the likes in the name of common decency. I admire him for that. He is a good man, my Wally.

  The six weeks away were perfect. We had two cloudy days and the rest of the time, it was wall to wall sunshine, about as hot as British summertime but with sun! Costa D’en Blanes is ideal for us, it’s very quiet, but if we fancy a coffee in the day or a beer and sherry at night, we are only a couple of miles away from Portals Nous and Palma Nova. We tend to get a taxi now as Wally gets a little nervous about driving over there as the Majorcans are mad drivers. We mainly go to Portals Nous now, we’re getting too old for Palma Nova, it’s for the young ones.