by Larissa Vine
The bleep brought her to her senses. What was she doing? She'd only just met Conner. She knew nothing about him. He could easily be someone's boyfriend.
She got off of the bed. Her dress slid back down to her knees.
Conner stared at her, clearly bemused. "What's wrong?"
Tess smoothed down the material of her dress to make herself look respectable. She was blushing so hard that her earlobes burned. She'd almost let a total stranger screw her. She'd wanted to sit on his face. And that noise she'd made. That mewling sound. Oh. Dear. God.
She turned to Conner. She couldn't look at him. Instead, she addressed his feet.
"I need you to go," she said.
"What?" Conner's voice rose an octave. "But we've only just got started."
She ushered him out of the bedroom, through the living room and toward the front door. When they reached it, he touched her arm to pacify her. She shook him off.
"Sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for going in heavy like that. You're so gorgeous that I got carried away."
Tears welled in Tess' seyes. She felt them burning. Desperately, she blinked them back into her eyeballs. She'd die if he saw her crying. She couldn't embarrass herself even further. How could she have let him do those … those things to her?
She opened the door and shooed him out. He stepped through the doorway. She had thought that he was going stick out his foot to stop the door from closing, but he didn't. He walked off with his head down. He seemed as shell-shocked as she was.
She shut the door and stood in the living room. A hot tide of mortification spread up her face. What had come over her?
Just then, she heard a meow. She looked down. Widget had arrived. She sat on the carpet staring up at Tess with her unblinking green eyes. She was clearly begging for more food. Tess was just about to give her a second breakfast when Widget lifted up her back leg and started to lick the swathe of fur along the back. It was like everything had suddenly become dirty. Tess felt dirty, too.
"Stop judging me," she said to Widget. "We're in this together. From now on Widget, it's just me and you. For the rest of the summer."
Chapter Six
The next day was Saturday. Tess sat at the kitchen island on one of the high-legged barstools. She was leafing through a guide book on Vancouver that she'd bought in England. Widget lay curled up on a chair by the patio windows, basking in the sunlight that broke through the trees. She was shedding like crazy. Black and white hair coated every surface. It floated through the air like tumbleweed.
Tess's stomach rumbled. She should probably fix herself some food. Granny P had left her some bread, and there were plenty of tins in the cupboard. Tess guessed that she should be out exploring the city, but after what had happened with Conner, her mind was spinning too much to take in any more new stuff. Conner may not have fucked her. But he'd fucked with her head.
What they'd done, she'd never believed that love-making could be so … carnal. It had been so different than with Matt that it had seemed like another act. With Matt, he'd always been on top, pumping away dutifully with measured thrusts. The thrusts had possessed a rhythm, an order, that had probably pleased his inner accountant.
And Tess had always lain beneath him, studying the peaks in the popcorn ceiling or fretting about the amount of ironing that was backing up in the laundry room. She had come. Often. But she'd faked a lot, too.
And what would Alannah say if Tess told her what they'd done? Alannah had instructed Tess to have a summer fling after all. Tess felt liberated to be away from everyone she knew. She felt giddy from the freedom.
The doorbell chimed. Tess's feelings of liberation vanished. Oh God, was it Conner? It couldn't be, surely? Not after the way that she'd marched him out of the house. But who else could it be? She knew no one in Vancouver apart from Widget.
She laid the guidebook onto the counter. Then she slid down from the stool and made her way across the kitchen tiles and the soft carpet in the lounge to the front door. Her heart was flip-flopping like crazy. Please, she thought. Please, don't let it be him. What was she going to say to him? How could she face him after all those things they'd done? Her bum cheeks were tender.
She peeled back the door. Her shame and fear vanished as she took in how gorgeous he was. Yesterday, he'd been wearing a suit. Today, he looked like he'd just returned from a run. She found casual Conner even hotter than businessman Conner if that were possible.
He wore a pair of faded tracksuit bottoms, which hung just so from his hips. His running vest showed off his sculpted biceps and triceps. Muscles that she'd never seen before, that she'd only been vaguely aware had existed, flared out from his neck.
"Don't," he said quickly. "Don't close the door on me. Here, these are for you."
He held out a bunch of orchids. He did this gingerly. It was like he was trying to pass some meat through the bars of a cage to a particularly bad-tempered lioness.
Disarmed, Tess found herself smiling. She took the orchids from him. Their swollen purple lips made them curiously sexual. They were held together by a loopy bow.
"And this is for Miss Widget." Conner passed Tess a can of albacore tuna.
Tess laughed. "What? Are you trying to bribe the cat with premium tuna?"
Conner's eyes twinkled. "I don't need to bribe her. Widget has always been on my side."
Tess's stomach rumbled.
"Are you hungry?" Conner asked. "I was just heading out for lunch. Want to come? My treat."
"I'm fine," Tess said quickly.
Her stomach growled again, only louder this time.
Conner raised his eyebrows.
"Okay, okay," she said. "I'd love to come."
He smiled. He looked genuinely delighted. Then his handsome face clouded over.
"I'm only going for poutine," he said. "I should be taking you for something fancy."
"What's poutine?" Tess asked.
Conner grinned. "You don't know? Then you, my friend, are about to become a little bit more Canadian."
Tess left Conner outside while she raced into the house to deal with the flowers. Once she'd arranged them in a vase—they really were beautiful—she rushed to the bathroom to get ready. She was aware that Conner was probably tapping his foot on the doorstep with impatience.
It's amazing what a person can do if they are really pushed. In five minutes, Tess managed to:
1. Fluff out the curls in her hair.
2. Pinch her cheeks to get some color into them, as she'd run out of blush.
3. Spray perfume onto her pulse points.
4. Wipe the perfume off again because it looked like she was trying too hard.
5. Feed Widget some of the atonement tuna.
****
It turned out that poutine was a portion of french fries bathed in gravy and slathered in curds of cheese. Tess and Conner ate their poutine on a bench in a park overlooking the sea. The sun blazed down on them. Groups of people lay sprawled out on blankets. The air smelt of coconut from suntan oil and of freshly cut grass.
Tess speared a chip with her wooden fork and popped it into her mouth.
"What do you think?" Conner asked.
Her mouth was too full to speak, so she nodded her approval. The poutine was greasy. It was far from a health food, but it was ooey and gooey and had incredible mouth feel.
"The dish comes from Quebec," Conner explained. "It was brought here by the French."
Tess’s mouth was no longer full, and she was able to speak again.
"How long have you lived here?" she asked. "You don't sound the slightest bit Canadian."
Conner laughed.
He explained that he'd moved to Vancouver from Dublin when he was twenty-two years old to go to law school. He'd loved the place so much that he'd ended up staying. His professors at law school had earmarked him to become a corporate lawyer for one of the big financial institutions, but he'd wanted to do something more fulfilling, so he'd gone into Human Rights instead.
"And
what about you?" he asked.
Tess shrugged. "Nothing high-flying. I'm just a yoga teacher."
She braced herself. Whenever she told people that she taught yoga, they always smirked or raised their eyebrows or gave a pointed stare at her thighs. It was as if they couldn't believe that anyone her size could have the audacity to be in the fitness industry. But Conner merely nodded.
"I thought so," he said. "It explains your glorious ass."
Tess blushed. "Stop it."
He groaned. "No. I won't stop. I can't. Christ. Have you any idea what you're doing to me? When I first saw you in that g-string. That image. It's been burned onto my brain. I could get off on it for the rest of my life. I swear I could, no messing. After what we did, I was up half the night thinking of you."
Now that Tess looked, she saw that he had dark hollows beneath his eyes.
"Let's do it again," Conner said.
"No."
"Please." He was practically begging.
Suddenly, Tess realized that she'd lost her appetite. She put her half-full tray of chips down next to the bench onto the grass. Seagulls swooped down. They began to peck at the fries with their greedy, yellow beaks while calling to one another. Tess guessed that she should shoo them away, but she was too preoccupied.
"What happened?" Conner asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Something's up. You look so … haunted."
A trembling took over Tess's body.
"Tell me," Conner said gently.
Then, because he was being so nice to her, she told him what had happened. She explained about Matt and how betrayed she’d felt. Then she told Conner about her father.
"I was five when it happened," she said. "He and Mum were always arguing, but I guess I was so young that I thought it was normal. He didn't leave dramatically. But his things started to disappear from the house. Every day, there was less and less of them. Then one day, he went to work—he was an engineer—and he never came back."
"Christ," Conner said. "I'm sorry."
Tess studied her bitten nails. She really should grow them one day.
"Mum never got over it," she said. "After that, she had to take two jobs just to manage. Every day, she told me that men were pigs and that I should never, ever trust them. I think she'd have been happy if I'd become a lesbian." There was a break in Tess's laugh.
"I ignored her about the men," she went on. "I mean, who listens to their mother? But after Matt, I see that she's right. I don't want another relationship."
Conner studied her with his dark, hypnotic eyes. She thought that he was going to argue with her, that he'd use his lawyer skills to twist her words and disprove what she said about men being pigs. But he didn't.
"You're here until the end of August, right?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Then let's hook up for the summer," he said. "We'll make some ground rules, so that no one gets hurt. We don't see anyone else. We keep it exclusive. And at the end of the summer, we walk away. No strings attached. Come on," he went on. "Don't tell me that you didn't like what we did. You were dripping."
"Stop it."
"Okay, okay." Conner held up his hands.
Then he changed the subject.
****
They sat for ages chatting on the bench. Once they'd moved the conversation away from Matt, and from summer flings, Tess was able to relax again. She found Conner's voice soothing. His accent was so soft and lilting. It made her think of the Irish countryside and of streams babbling over peat.
She stared past the park to the ocean. It was as still as a millpond and was the same unwavering blue as the sky. Across the bay, stood the skyscrapers of the city. She'd read in her guidebook that they were made from green glass, so that they could blend with the mountains behind them.
She'd never seen mountains before. Well, not in real life. Lucky Conner. He got to see them every day.
****
An hour later, they left the park. Conner was meeting up with his mate Jake for a quick pint of beer. Tess started to walk home alone. The sun went in. The air grew muggier by the second. The ballet flats, which she'd bought for the trip and which she hadn't broken in yet, started to rub her little toes.
Finally, to her relief, she spotted Granny P's house ahead across the street. It stood proud on the corner. Tess smiled. She couldn't wait to get inside and take off her shoes.
A taxi pulled up to the curb. It stopped outside Granny P's place. Tess watched the door open. A man with carefully cut blond hair stepped out onto the pavement. Tess's stomach lurched.
She shut her eyes. Then she opened them again. But no, she hadn't been imagining it. The tilt of the man's head. The way that he rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. There was no mistaking it. She didn't know why, and it didn't make sense, but Matt had turned up at the house.
Chapter Seven
Matt? Tess felt the blood drain from her body as she watched him take an overnight bag out of the boot of the cab. He shut the trunk then rapped on the back to signal that he'd finished. The cab drove off, smoke pluming from its exhaust.
He must have felt Tess watching him because he turned and glanced across the road. A smile broke across his face.
"Tess," he called. "Over here."
Tess stayed frozen on the pavement.
"Tess." Impatience rippled through Matt's voice.
With heavy feet, she crossed the road. He held out his arms to welcome her. She stopped walking and glared at him. There was no way in hell that she was going to hug him. No way at all. So many times in the past few weeks, she'd fantasized about going into his house and slashing up his collection of suits or of putting prawns into the hems of his curtains.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
Matt gave her a wink. "Don't worry. All will be revealed." He pointed at the duplex. "Is that the house? Let me dump my stuff, and then we'll talk."
Tess's body tensed
Reluctantly, she led him along the path and up the steps of the house. When they entered Granny P's living room, Tess saw Matt stare around. He picked up a china figurine from the side table. It was one of Tess's favorites, a shepherdess, no more than half an inch high. She had a delicate painted on smile. Tess imagined her singing lullabies to the lambs.
Matt ran his thumb over the shepherdess's face, coating it in a film of grease.
"Check out the clutter," he said. "Don't you ever feel like sweeping your arm around and knocking it all into the bin?"
"No," Tess said coldly. "Actually, I don't."
Matt sneezed. Then he sneezed again, more violently than before. His blue eyes watered. It was then that Tess remembered something. He was allergic to cats.
****
They decided to go for a walk. Matt needed to get away from the cat fur and to stretch his legs after the flight. They wandered along the streets to the mansions on the waterfront. Then they found a path, which led them down the cliff to the beach.
The tide was out, pushed back far from the shore. Tess wrinkled her nose at the tang of seaweed. She felt woozy from all of the salt in the air.
She spotted a circle of log stumps farther along the beach. They were high up on the sand, away from the tide, and were arranged around a burnt-out fire.
She pointed at them. "Let's sit down there."
They picked their way across the rocks. The rocks were slippery with seaweed. Twice Tess fell, even though she kept her arms out for balance.
She'd been in such a tizzy about seeing Matt that she'd forgotten to change her shoes. She could feel the blisters forming on her little toes. The algae on the rocks stained the grey satin.
At last, they reached the logs. Crumpled beer cans and empty packets of crisps lay strewn on the sand next to the charcoal smear from the fire. Matt positioned himself on one of the stumps. Tess walked to the next log. As she sat down, she tried not to flinch. She kept her face impassive. Matt would have a fit if he found out about her bruised butt cheeks. She wondered what h
e wanted.
He looked around, frowning slightly. "So this is Vancouver. To be honest, I don't get what all the hype's about."
"It's lovely," Tess snapped.
She realized with a pang that she'd already fallen in love with the city.
It was weird though. Vancouver looked a lot different now that she wasn't with Conner. The sun had gone. Clouds shielded the sky. On the ocean, she spotted tanker ships, which she hadn't noticed before. She hoped that they weren't leaking diesel into the water.
Across the bay, to the left of the skyscrapers, stretched a dark tangle of woods. She imagined bears prowling through them, ready to claw at children who'd gotten lost. She shivered and tried to focus on Matt.
He was yammering on about an action movie that he'd watched on the flight. He gave a blow-by-blow account of the chase scene. Tess yawned. She hated action films. When Matt didn't pick up on her cue, she yawned again. Still, Matt didn't skip a beat. He babbled on about the special effects.
Suddenly, Tess couldn't bear to have to be polite for any longer.
"Why are you here?" she cut in.
Matt gave her smile that she'd seen him practice in the en-suite mirror. He seemed to be using all of his blond good looks on her.
"I came … you know. I miss you," he said. "The thing with Vicky is over."
Vicky. Tess winced. She wished that the woman had remained nameless as well as faceless. Somehow knowing her name made it even more painful.
"She meant nothing to me," Matt continued. "I mean she was so young and pretty that I was blindsided. Not that you're not pretty," he added quickly. "You're amazingly beautiful for someone your size. But I'm not going to lie to you, I was flattered, and once I'd started." He gave a whistle. "Man, was I in over my head."
"How many times did you sleep with her?"
Matt's eyes darted from side-to-side. "Like not much. Like hardly at all. It's such a horrible blur that I can't really remember."
"I said how many times?"
"Stop using your cross voice on me."
The comment came from nowhere. Tess was so surprised that she burst out laughing. Her cross voice. That was what Matt had always called her voice when she'd had a go at him for not eating the ass end of the bread. Or for not squeezing the tube of toothpaste from the bottom.