Obsession

by Susan Lewis

  ‘You’ll always be my baby,’ Edwina said, touching her cheek.

  ‘Oh, yuk!’ Corrie said, but laughing she pulled her mother back into her arms.

  ‘So,’ Edwina said, a few minutes later. ‘Would you like me to start with how we met?’

  Corrie nodded.

  ‘That far back, mm? OK. Well, I was nineteen and working in one of the better dress shops in Brighton. I had a little bedsitter above it that the proprietress rented to me and a bicycle I rode around the town on my days off. I was always hoping, of course, that I would meet someone, make some friends, but I was too shy to go into the coffee bars alone. Then, would you know it, the shop door opened one day and Phillip walked into my life.’

  ‘You’ve missed out the bit about Great-Granny,’ Corrie protested.

  ‘So I have. Well, she had been into the shop the week before to buy a new frock, which had needed altering. Dreadful woman she was, frightened me half to death. Mrs Browne,’ Edwina said, affecting a deep resonant tone. ‘Mrs Cornelia Browne. Gosh, she was awful, over-bearing, sharp-tongued and turned out to have the kindest heart imaginable. Anyway, she had to return for her dress, and when she did, her grandson came with her.’ Edwina was watching Corrie’s face closely. Then smiling and knowing that this next was one of the bits Corrie had always loved to hear as a teenager, she said, ‘The bell over the door rang, I looked up and there he was. It was love at first sight.’

  Grimacing, Corrie imitated the playing of a violin.

  ‘Of course neither of us admitted to it straight away,’ Edwina chuckled, ‘it took about a week for Phillip to pluck up the courage to tell me, and then of course I told him I felt the same way. After that we spent all our free time together, mostly in my bedsit, talking and listening to music. One of our favourite songs, as I recall, was “Dedicated to the One I love”, by the Mamas and Papas. It was the first record I ever bought. We used to sing it at the tops of our voices.’ She paused for a moment, smiling, then went on. ‘We had a lot of fun then, in those first few weeks, but, well, it was a difficult time too. You see he very much wanted to make love to me, and I wanted him to, but because I was still a virgin he wouldn’t.’

  Corrie looked up. ‘You never told me that before.’

  ‘You weren’t twenty-six before.’

  ‘So did you? In the end?’

  Edwina shook her head. ‘No. Not until we were married. But as you know, we married within three months of meeting each other. We went to see Cornelia first. Since I didn’t have a family and Phillip only had his grandmother … Well, he was very fond of the old lady and wanted her blessing. She was horrified. Left us in no doubt as to her opinion on the matter. A shop assistant as a wife for her precious university educated grandson! Unthinkable! But as soon as she’d had her say, a teasing light leapt to her eyes, and we married the following week.

  ‘We went to Spain for our honeymoon. I’d never been on a plane before, it was so exciting. We stayed in an awful hotel, building works going on all around us, but we didn’t really notice. Your father, Phillip, he was so gentle, he treated me …’ she laughed, ‘it was as though he thought I would break. He had quite a shock I can tell you when I, a virgin, started to get adventurous. I made him do things I don’t think he’d ever done before. But it was such fun finding out together. And once he realized he wasn’t in any danger of hurting me … Well, I’ll spare you the details – suffice it to say we were never long out of the bedroom.

  ‘Anyway, just a week after we came back from our honeymoon Cornelia died. It was a shock for us both, Phillip most of all, naturally. And an even bigger shock was the amount of money she had left to Phillip. With it we bought a tiny flat just off the King’s Road in London. It was the place to be then, in the late sixties, probably still is. Then, two months after we moved in I discovered I was pregnant. I was horrified. Phillip was delighted. By then he had a job in a City bank and was earning quite good money, so we could afford a family, he insisted. And once I realized how happy he was I was happy too. And eight months later the proudest moment of his life occurred when the midwife handed him his baby daughter.’

  Corrie pulled a face.

  ‘Ten days later Phillip collected us, you and me, from the hospital, and to my amazement, when we got back to the flat there was a For Sale notice outside. “Yes,” Phillip said, “we’re moving. We’re going to buy a palace for our princess!” ’

  Corrie moved forward and took her mother’s hands as swallowing hard Edwina looked down at the handkerchief she was wringing in her lap.

  ‘It’s all right, you don’t have to go on,’ Corrie said gently.

  Edwina shook her head. ‘As you know,’ she continued, ‘we never did get the “palace”. One evening, while returning home from work, Phillip stepped out in front of a car and was killed instantly. You were three months old.’

  Corrie looked at her mother, desperately regretting having forced her back into the past. Over twenty-four years Edwina’s pain and loss were still very much with her.

  ‘Phillip’s lawyer took over from there,’ Edwina said, huskily. ‘He sold the flat – I couldn’t live there without him, the memories, you know …’

  Yes, Corrie knew. The only memory her mother had now was one photograph of the wedding, a photograph which sat beside Edwina’s bed, and from which Corrie knew she resembled her father much more than she did her mother.

  ‘So we, you and I, came here to Amberside,’ Edwina said, ‘and though I have been happy here, I often wonder whether, for your sake, it might not have been better had we stayed in London.’

  ‘I’ve been happy here too,’ Corrie assured her.

  ‘But you’re not now, sweetheart. And I want to see you happy, as happy and as in love as your father and I were.’

  Later that night, after Edwina had gone to bed, Corrie called up Kevin Foreman, the local butcher’s son. Kevin had been keen on her since they were in school, and though he didn’t exactly make her heart pound with desire she had always quite liked him. She had been out on dates with him before, he really could be quite good company sometimes, and now, perhaps, if she worked on it, she could more than like him.

  ‘Got anything special you want to do?’ he asked, when she told him why she was calling.

  Corrie thought for a moment, trying not to be irritated that she always had to make the decisions. Oh, to be swept off into the night; to be wined and dined, danced and adored, seduced into the arms of untold passions and pleasures. ‘How about the cinema?’ she suggested, remembering the South Bank show she’d seen the week before on the Hollywood film director, Cristos Bennati. She and Paula were avid followers of showbiz gossip and Corrie wouldn’t mind having a closer look at the woman Bennati was supposed to be having an affair with. ‘We can go to see that new film with Angelique Warne in,’ she said.

  ‘Just so as long as it’s not slushy.’

  ‘It’s a Bennati film,’ Corrie said tightly.

  ‘Oh, what the guy who made Stranger? That was a good movie. Yeah, let’s go see his new one then. I’ll pick you up around six thirty tomorrow night.’

  Corrie was momentarily impressed that Kevin had heard of Bennati, but then felt she was doing him a disservice since Bennati’s name and reputation were as well known as Scorcese’s or Coppola’s.

  The following evening, as Kevin drove them into town in his father’s Volvo, Corrie kept stealing quick glances at him from the corner of her eye. She was both surprised, and impressed, that he appeared to have made a special effort to look good for her. She hadn’t seen that leather jacket before, it padded out his meagre shoulders rather cleverly, she thought. And those baggy trousers disguised his skinny legs well. At six foot three he towered over Corrie, which was one of the things she liked best about him, since at five foot nine she was taller than most of the boys she had been to school with. Shame Kevin wasn’t better looking, though tonight his thin, normally pallid face, seemed to have a little more colour than usual and he’d obviously splashed hi
s dimpled chin liberally with Eau Savage before leaving home. Smiling to herself Corrie wondered how long he had stood in front of the mirror combing the immaculate tawny hair he was so proud of, before pronouncing himself ‘ready for the kill.’

  For her part Corrie had made a bit of an effort too, having coiled her abundant hair, which she normally wore loose, into a French plait, and circled her eyes with a khol pencil. A few dabs of powder were concealing the freckles on her nose, but the lipstick she’d wiped off before leaving, she’d never been too fond of the stuff, perhaps she just didn’t buy the right colours. Her navy, knee-length shorts and thick tights were sensible, but quite trendy too, she thought, though she already regretted not wearing a sweater over her burgundy and navy striped shirt since it was ‘bloody freezing,’ as she remarked to Kevin when they were getting out of the car.

  ‘Yeah, real brass monkey weather,’ he said, pocketing the car keys and walking round the car to join her. She looked up at him, waited a moment or two for something a little more erudite, perhaps even a compliment, but as neither was forthcoming, she flashed him a quick smile, pulled her scarf up around her ears, and they walked off towards the cinema. Kevin was chuntering on about some hilarious occurrence down at the abattoir earlier in the week, to which Corrie faked rapt attention while allowing her mind to wander. The mislaying of a pig’s intestines didn’t do much for her sense of romance, and though she hadn’t decided exactly what was going to happen between her and Kevin once the film was over she didn’t want her hopes of something amorous being destroyed by his butcher talk. A self-generated tingle of anticipation suddenly warmed her, and she gave his arm a squeeze.

  ‘Popcorn?’ he said, after he’d paid for the tickets and hesitated over taking Corrie’s money.

  Corrie shrugged. ‘Why not?’

  He bought her a giant-sized carton, himself a choc-ice, then they settled down to watch the film.

  Almost from the start Corrie’s concentration was poor. She’d seen Angelique Warne in a couple of films before this one, and had always thought that everyone made too much of her. But seeing her tonight, up there on the screen in glorious Technicolor, all Corrie could think of was how wonderful it must be to look like her, to have a lover like Cristos Bennati, and live in a Bel Air mansion – which was where she presumed Angelique Warne lived. What it must be like to be so successful, so adored by the public and have a man like Cristos Bennati too, Corrie was thinking to herself, when Kevin slipped an arm around her, and began nuzzling her ear. She put her head back, closed her eyes and pretended that it was Bennati, or de Niro, or Redford, sitting beside her. After a while she became so lost in her fantasy that she gave a severe start when Kevin suddenly took out his handkerchief and trumpeted into it.

  Corrie turned away, rolling her eyes, but grinning all the same at the crude return to reality. Then, stuffing his handkerchief back in his pocket Kevin put his arm around her again and made to take up where he’d left off. Corrie sat straighter in her seat and whispered for him to watch the film.

  On the way home, having overcome his fit of pique at being rebuffed, Kevin became surprisingly articulate with a sudden rush of compliments. Didn’t she know that she, Corrie, was sexier even than Angelique Warne? ‘Her tits are so small it’d be like feeling up yourself,’ he said. ‘Your figure could knock spots off hers, do you know that?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s such a bore having to fight off so many men all the time,’ Corrie complained, running a finger over her eyebrows and pouting her lips. Inside she was laughing. She knew only too well what Kevin was leading up to – and this was his way of putting her in the mood.

  After a while he fell silent and when Corrie glanced at him and saw his glum face she felt instantly contrite. He’d guessed she wasn’t taken in by his compliments and was now hurt and embarrassed that she was teasing him. She was sorry and wanted in some way to make amends. What she’d like even more was to fall for him, to discover that he was all she wanted in a man – in life.

  A few minutes later he stopped the Volvo in the same secluded spot they always stopped at after their visits to the cinema, and then began their ritual necking and fumbling.

  Despite the cold it was a clear night, and catching a glimpse of Kevin’s face Corrie found herself hoping that the moonlight wasn’t as cruel on her as it was on poor Kevin’s ghostly pallor. But his next comment, as predictable as all the others so far, told her it wasn’t her face he was looking at.

  ‘You got the most fantastic tits, Corrie, do you know that?’ he said, wrestling the D cup of her reinforced cross-your-heart up over her left breast. Not for her a lacy scrap of nothing, she was far too well endowed for such fripperies.

  Corrie let him fondle her a while, idly wondering whether she should replace some of the spring stock in the shop with more winter stuff since it had turned so cold again, when she surprised herself by giving a moan of genuine pleasure as Kevin lowered his mouth to her nipple. Try to concentrate, she chided herself. It wasn’t difficult, not now, since the sensations Kevin was evoking were so pleasurable that she found herself freeing her other breast herself. And, as Kevin’s hand closed over it, she felt the unmistakable warmth of lust starting to surge through her.

  ‘Oh, Corrie,’ he groaned savagely, his voice muffled somewhere in her cleavage. ‘Corrie, they’re so fantastic. They’re so big and soft, and … Shit! Just looking at them I could come. Let me take my cock out,’ he said, pressing her hand to his groin. ‘Just for a few minutes.’

  Corrie could feel his erection straining beneath his trousers and pushed her hand hard against it.

  Kevin choked. ‘Fuck me!’ he cried. ‘Let me take it out, Corrie. Please!’ He was already fumbling with his zip. ‘Oh Corrie, your tits, your great big tits. A man could … Ooooh!’ he groaned, as he pulled his penis free. Quickly he caught Corrie’s hand, and as she wrapped her fingers around it he seemed to go wild. ‘Oh yes,’ he groaned, moving his hand back and forth over hers. ‘Yes, yes, yes. Squeeze it, Corrie, go on, squeeze it hard. Wank me. Oh yes.’ He let her hand go, scooped up her breasts and pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. ‘Let me put it in you,’ he begged. ‘Just a little way. Just for a minute.’

  He asked every time if he could put it in her, and every time Corrie said no. But now, not giving herself any time to think, she said, ‘Have you got any condoms?’

  Kevin pulled away from her and stared at her in disbelief. ‘Do you mean …?’ he gasped. ‘Are you saying …?’ And then he started to tremble. ‘Oh, shit, Corrie, I don’t believe it. Yes, I got plenty of johnnies. They’re here.’ He lifted his hips to delve into his back pocket then swore violently as he squashed his penis against the steering wheel.

  Corrie sucked in her cheeks so he wouldn’t see her laughing. She still wasn’t too sure she really wanted to do this, but … what the hell? It had been so long since she’d had sex and maybe this would form a bond between her and Kevin. After all, that was the whole point of tonight, wasn’t it?

  ‘Shall we get in the back?’ he said, struggling with the wrapping on his condoms.

  ‘I think we’d better.’

  They both stepped out into the biting night air. A low mist drifted across the countryside and the wind whined gently through the nearby wood.

  ‘God, it’s fucking freezing out here,’ Kevin shivered, pushing his trousers down to his knees. He pulled open the back door, plonked his bare bottom on the seat then proceeded to roll on his condom, his teeth chattering.

  Grimacing, Corrie slid into the back seat, and watched as Kevin swung his legs into the car and slammed the door. ‘Take your knickers off then,’ he said.

  For a moment or two Corrie simply stared at him, then shrugging she started to unfasten her shorts.

  ‘No! No!’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Corrie looked at him, bewildered.

  ‘I want to pull your knickers down myself,’ he said, hardly able to speak his breath was so laboured. ‘Let me pull them down.’

 
; Corrie parted her hands, as if to say, be my guest, then she raised her hips as he started to tug.

  It was a farce. His thumb got twisted up in the elastic of her knickers, he slipped off the seat and cracked his knee on the floor, then he couldn’t get up because his trousers were restricting his movements. Corrie’s arm was jammed painfully against the door, and she really didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

  Eventually he managed to get himself back on the seat, and to her surprise she saw that his erection had lost none of its ardour. By now she was wearing only her raincoat and blouse, which were both open, and her bra which was clamped tightly over the top of her breasts.

  ‘Lie down,’ he said, raising himself up to make room for her.

  Corrie wriggled beneath him, holding her raincoat together as she spread her legs either side of him.

  ‘That’s it,’ he said, somehow twisting himself onto his knees between her legs. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Well, I guess so,’ Corrie mumbled.

  He leaned forward, resting his hands either side of her head. Then he lowered his hips and started to stab about.

  ‘That’s my navel,’ Corrie told him.

  ‘I know it’s your bloody navel,’ he said tightly, ‘you’ll have to move up a bit.’

  ‘I can’t. There’s no room.’

  ‘Oh God! Well, I’ll just have to open the door.’

  ‘Are you mad? It’s freezing out there.’

  ‘Well I can’t get it in like this, can I?’ he barked, and reaching behind him he threw open the door.

  Surely this was happening to someone else, it couldn’t be her lying here on the back seat of a Volvo, gales of icy air blowing around her most intimate places, with a man whose trousers were at half mast and whose technique regarding foreplay …

  ‘Oooph!’ she grunted, as Kevin collapsed onto her.

  ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

  Suddenly Corrie could feel herself blinking on hysteria. This was just too absurd to be true. But even more absurd were Kevin’s legs, now jutting out of the door, his trousers dangling about his ankles. Come to that her own didn’t look too dignified, one hooked up over the front seat, the other jammed up against the back. Then suddenly everything went black as Kevin moved himself forward. His chest was covering her face and as he shoved his hand between their bodies she tried to gulp for air.