62 Days

by Jessie M.

  “So Rachel, what do you do?” Jack asked, his grey blue eyes on mine.

  “Legal.” I replied briefly

  “Solicitor?”

  “No.”

  “Secretary then?”

  “Yes.”

  He was obviously waiting for me to ask him something but I couldn’t be bothered. I knew I was being bloody rude.

  “Sorry, need the ladies…” I rushed off gulping my final big mouthful of wine and putting down the empty glass. I must get a bite to eat on the way back.

  I made my way across the house to the cloakroom. I had to wait for two people in front of me to use it. Finally I came out and went to find some food in the dining room. I just wanted a sandwich or something. I looked at the food on display. Nothing resembling a sandwich at all… it was all salmon and caviar and little pastry thingies. Nice though. Whilst I stood there admiring the pretty food art in front of me I picked up a twisty breadstick and crunched it. A grey sleeved arm cut across the table in front of me and grabbed one too. I turned to the side to look at who it was. Oh hello, it’s Mark, Mr Hottie.

  “Are you okay?” He asked me quietly.

  “Yeah, why?” I gazed vacantly at him crunching my breadstick.

  “You looked a little spaced out back there, and you still do actually.”

  “No, I’m fine, it’s my usual look.”

  He laughed and looked deeply into my completely disinterested in life eyes.

  “So, who are you Rachel?”

  “Just me.”

  He smiled… “Yeah, and I’m just me.”

  “Well there you go… we know each other so well already.” I added in a natural deadpan voice. Didn’t even need to put one on.

  “Maybe we do.” He smiled again and carried on looking intently at me.

  I started to get uncomfortable being stared at so continuously.

  “Stare any harder and I’ll have to turn you to stone.” Well I don’t know where that little spark of humour came from.

  “So, you’re a funny girl are you?” He asked giving me an amused but rather sexy grin and cocking his head. I obviously still recognised sexy looks, even if they did nothing for me.

  “Not intentionally.”

  “Kind of sweet though.”

  “Yeah sugar’s my second name… anyway, must go Mark, got someone over there I was half way through ignoring.” I said rather unsweetly and walked off leaving a surprised Mark standing behind me.

  I grabbed another bucket of wine as I passed the bar area and took a few big swigs, returning to my gang of people after my long ladies room absence.

  “Where d’you go?” Suze asked giving me a big wide eyed ‘don’t leave me alone with these two rugger blokes ever again’ look. Will seemed to have disappeared somewhere.

  “Ladies… Big queue… Don’t leave it till the last minute…” Jack zoned in on me, ready for his next round of ignoring. Oh shit, I so want to go home! I swigged some more wine and then some more. The breadstick wasn’t really a main meal and my brain quickly began to get overloaded with wineiness… the room felt a touch spinny… I seem to be very out of practice with my wine swigging. I decided to slow down a little and wait for a while before my next one, otherwise I’d be flat out on the floor soon and the DJ hadn’t even finished setting up yet.

  One good side effect of the wine swigging was that it had loosened my tongue and my uptight attitude a little and I made an effort to try and talk to Jack. To have a reasonable two way conversation. He was quite nice and fairly attractive. At one time I’m sure I would have loved to talk to him. Unfortunately just now it was hard going as I had no interest in him or anyone. I wished I could feel normal again, Maybe one day I would. After a while Jack had finished his beer and I’d finished my drink too. I asked him if he wouldn’t mind getting me an orange juice, to break up the hard going for a minute or two and to dilute the wine effect. Soon after that the DJ started up and the conversation was more limited. Thank God for DJs and loud music.

  Suze did a little wild dancing on the spot. I did my usual unwild shifting from foot to foot. Hardly dancing. I actually did smile a few times at Suze’s mad dance moves, so it was worth me coming out tonight after all.

  A while later, my fruit juice was finished and I decided to have another real drink… the wine fuzziness was now wearing off a little and I wanted it back. I really liked being a little warm and fuzzy. Perhaps I should swig wine all day.

  After half an hour of slow and continuous sipping I had almost made it through the third massive bucket sized glass when the room really did start spinning… fucking badly… I needed to go outside and get some fresh air… no, what I really needed was to lay down somewhere, very soon… I stumbled through the people out to the hallway in a very bad fuzzy state. I caught sight of a familiar grey shirt and headed in that direction. Mark caught me as I stumbled towards him.

  “Take me up to bed.” I said in a slightly slurred rush, hanging on his shoulders to steady myself. That came out all wrong. He picked me up and whisked me up the stairs. My fuzzy mind was just about ready to pass out and I was so looking forward to it. I vaguely took in the sensation of being laid down on some cool bed covers, my shoes being removed, seeing blue eyes and dark eyelashes. I think I managed to say ‘thank you’ before I closed my eyes and gratefully disappeared into the beautiful black void that was calling out loudly to me in my head.

  TWO

  I woke up groggily. I could sense something was different. I hadn’t opened my eyes yet but I knew this wasn’t my room. It didn’t feel familiar. I rubbed my fingertips over the sheet beneath me… very soft and fine. Where was I?

  I cautiously opened my eyes a little and the dim light filtered through. My head felt bad… my stomach was churning mildly. I focused on the ceiling first, then the walls. It was a big white room. I was on a big white bed. I turned my head fractionally and looked out of the corner of my eye to the other side of the wide bed… apparently I wasn’t alone on it.

  I leaned up on my elbow and looked over. No way… Oh my God…! A massive smattering of memory flooded back. He really had taken me to bed then. I lay back again heavily as a strong wave of nausea rolled over me and my head thumped in protest. Mark stirred and opened his blue eyes, looking into my horrified brown ones.

  “So, how bad are you feeling?” he asked me softly.

  “Pretty bad.” Completely mortified and utterly embarrassed too… Worse still, I had just become aware of something. I wasn’t wearing my dress. I appeared to be wearing something else instead. Shit… what had I done last night in my drunken fuzziness…? I couldn’t remember a damn thing after being laid down on the bed.

  “You were in a bit of a state…”

  “Yeah, an unconscious one… what did you do?”

  “Nothing. Just put you to bed, as requested.”

  “I didn’t mean your bed Mark.”

  “There were no others free… I have people staying in the other three bedrooms.”

  “I see…” Very plausible explanation. I let him off… “So who took my dress off?”

  “I did, you didn’t look that comfortable sleeping in it.”

  My face flamed.

  “Did you touch me?”

  “Only where I needed to.”

  “Oh God…!” Fucking hell, please let me die of embarrassment right now…

  “It’s okay Rachel. I’ve seen plenty of half naked women before.” He smiled at me. A very big smile.

  “Can you call me a cab please. I so need to go home” I was desperate to leave. I tried to sit up but nausea and a pain just behind my eyes made me lie back down again pretty fast.

  He picked up his phone from the bedside table and looked at it.

  “It’s far too early, only 6 am. Later on I’ll drop you off. I promised your friend Suzanne I’d get you home safely this morning.”

  “You did? Look, it’s okay. I don’t want to put you out.” He’d seen me arse over tit drunk and half naked. I’d never felt so
humiliated. I wished I could just vanish, beam out somewhere. I didn’t want to prolong the embarrassment any longer by sitting in his car making polite conversation.

  “It’s no problem at all, I insist on taking you home… now let’s have some more sleep. I’ve only been in bed 4 hours.”

  With that he rolled towards me, onto his front. His eyes and body were suddenly a lot closer to mine. We stared at each other for a moment and then his eyes gently closed as he went back to sleep. It took me a much longer time to get to sleep. I was still working my way through my humiliation. But eventually I drifted off too.

  I woke some time later aware of a heavy weight on me. His arm was across my waist. I picked it up and moved it off. He moved it back. I looked at his face, he had his eyes closed but he seemed to be smiling a touch. He was awake. I lie there wondering what to do and what time it was. It seemed very light outside. I really wanted to leave.

  I tapped his shoulder. “Ummm, Mark, can I go home now please?”

  He sighed and opened his eyes. He still didn’t take his arm off me.

  “Soon, when I’ve woken up.”

  “I’m going to try and get up now.” I leaned up and steeled myself for the swimming painful head, but it wasn’t that bad. Obviously the extra sleep had sorted out my head quite a lot. I didn’t feel that sick either which was another plus. I was absolutely dying for the bathroom though. I rolled out from under his arm, got up and stood at the side of the bed getting steady on my feet. I glanced down. I was wearing what appeared to be one of his t-shirts. Mark rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head and looked at me. I looked back at him dispassionately, naked to the waist, lying there. Mussed up dark hair, lovely face, nicely toned body… Suze would have been all over him like a rash if she was here now… “Where’s the bathroom then?” I asked. He pointed at the door opposite.

  “Use the shower if you like. Your things are on the chair.”

  I picked up my dress and bag and made my way into Mark’s ensuite shower room. There’s something incredibly personal about other peoples’ bathrooms. All their little bits and pieces everywhere. My eyes travelled around the room taking in his neat and tidy collection of things. After making myself comfortable, I decided to take him up on his offer and turned on his rather hi-tech shower. I thought it might help with the hungover head and I didn’t want to reek of last night’s alcohol excess for a second longer. I set it to massage and as hot as I could take it and stepped inside the stone tiled shower area. I gulped down some hot water to freshen my dry mouth and throat. Then I smelled all his concoctions one by one, picking the least manly and most fruity smell I could to wash myself with.

  I came out dressed and clean with brushed wet hair a short while later to find him all ready and sitting on the made bed. I stood in front of him.

  “I used my other bathroom…” he explained. “There’s a hairdryer in the second drawer down if you want it.” He motioned to the chest of drawers.

  “Thanks, I will if you don’t mind, my hair goes all mad if I just leave it.” I got it out and plugged it in and dried off my soggy hair, tipping my head upside down on and off to get it done fast. He sat and watched the whole hair drying episode. Finally I finished and put the hairdryer away.

  “You have beautiful hair.” He said suddenly standing up and coming up behind me. He picked up a strand of my hair and wound it around his fingers. I stiffened and held my breath. Jon used to tell me my hair was beautiful, well, in the beginning he did. “Come on, I need to have a drink and something to eat.” He started to make his way out of the bedroom.

  I followed him downstairs and into the kitchen. No sign of anyone else up yet. It was tidy and clean, no trace of party mess. It must be nice to be rich and employ people. He poured us both a glass of orange juice and gave me a paracetamol. How thoughtful.

  “Fancy anything to eat?”

  “God no… and I’ve taken up too much of your time already. Please call me a cab and I’ll go.” I replied sipping at my wonderful cold OJ.

  “Well I’m having some toast at least. Then I’ll take you home. I haven’t got much else to do this morning.” He busied himself doing his toasting. He seemed very intent on dropping me off. I sat down on a tall kitchen stool and watched him.

  “I’m so sorry about this. I don’t normally get drunk at parties and ask the host to take me to bed. I am really, really embarrassed.” At least I’d got that off my chest…

  “There’s no need to be embarrassed, everyone’s allowed to get a little drunk at times… and you haven’t put me out at all. I had my party, and you slept right through it.”

  “Was it a good one, your party?”

  “I had a great time last night.”

  “Mark…”

  “Yes?”

  “Happy Birthday, for yesterday.”

  “Thank you Rachel.” He tipped his head sideways a little and smiled at me.

  THREE

  We finally drove home in his dark blue Mercedes and chatted a little about our respective work. He was very easy to talk to and I found I was surprisingly relaxed in his company despite the rather embarrassing start to the day. Soon we arrived outside my apartment block.

  “Thanks once again, I’m so very grateful Mark…” I started to get out. He caught my arm.

  “Rachel, could I ask a favour of you?”

  “What kind of favour.” I asked warily turning to face him.

  “Are you free tomorrow afternoon? I have a wedding to go to and I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Oh no Mark. I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not dating just now.” Or ever again.

  “It’s not a date.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Look, I’m sure there are lots of other women you know who would love to go to a wedding with you.”

  “There are, but I don’t want a ‘date’. So how about it?”

  “But why d’you want to take me Mark, you don’t even know me?”

  “D’you really want to know why?”

  “Yes…” I meet his direct blue gaze head on.

  “Because I don’t think you’re that interested in me, are you?” A small smile twitched at his mouth.

  “Well at the risk of offending you, no, not at all.”

  He gave me an odd little look that I couldn’t quite decipher. I’m not completely sure but I think he was having a hard time believing me. This must be a novelty for him.

  “No offence taken. It suits me. No pressure on me or on you.”

  I looked at him for a moment weakening. I wouldn’t ever get married. I might as well go to other peoples weddings when I got the chance… and I did quite like his company. Nothing much else to do except watch TV at home and Sunday lunch at my parents. No contest.

  “Well I do like weddings. Flowers and champagne and pretty dresses. Okay, I’ll come.”

  “Put your number in there, so I can contact you later.” He held out his phone to me and I put my number in.

  I left the car in a very peculiar frame of mind. I’d somehow acquired a new and very nice male friend.

  ***

  I got inside my apartment and took out my phone which had been vibrating like mad for the last half an hour in my bag. I’d been deliberately ignoring it. I knew who it was. There weren’t many people who called me these days. 3 Missed calls and 3 texts all from Suze.

  I sent her a quick text.

  “Just got home. All ok here.”

  She replied faster than the speed of light.

  “I’m so jealous – did you have sex with yummy Mark?”

  “NO.”

  “Why the fuck not? You were in his bed!!! ”

  “I was unconscious.”

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “and I’m just not interested.”

  “Ray, do you even have a pulse?”

  “oh ha ha, anyway, nothing more to report. What about you, have fun?”r />
  “I went home at 12, had enough of being sober and rugger tactics.”

  “Sorry. You can get drunk next time.”

  Despite feeling a little tired and slightly hungover I busied myself cleaning and tidying with rather more enthusiasm than I would normally muster up on a Saturday, or any day come to think of it. I ate a cheese sandwich which made me feel much better and then I did some overdue laundry. I even whipped up some more enthusiasm to scrub the shower cubicle free of its 2 months worth of soap scum.

  Then I began the dreadful wedding clothes choosing palava.

  I looked into my wardrobe critically. I had a fitted white jacket which might be okay, perhaps a short black skirt and blouse… high heeled black sandals. I took the items out and put them on the bed. Maybe, maybe not. It wasn’t very weddingish really, it looked a little cheap. I still had three hours till the shops closed. I made a decision. Time for a new outfit. I grabbed my keys and bag and went out to the car and drove to Oxford city centre. I wandered in and out of a few stores until I finally found what I was looking for. With the help of a very chatty sales assistant in Wallis I chose a rather expensive but perfect cream coloured outfit. A short skirt suit with black trim and matching tight black satin strapless top. It was very weddingish. Also very fashionable and beautiful. Quite unlike me in fact. Already got shiny black bag and high heels… Job done.

  ***

  I got back and hung up my new purchase.

  Every Sunday AB, I was expected to go for traditional Sunday lunch at my parents. I suspected it was their way of making sure I was actually eating at least once a week and that I wasn’t slipping into some kind of dreadful depression. I suppose it was natural they would want to keep a watchful eye on me. An inbuilt parental instinct to protect. I had to let my mum know I wasn’t coming this week before she made arrangements to do an extra large portion of everything, to feed little old me up. I gave her a quick call.

  “Hi Mum, can I come round for coffee in the morning. Can’t make lunch…”

  “Yes, that’s fine love. Are you going anywhere nice?”