by K. L. Slater
‘Who are you?’ The crotchety old man stared at her with watery blue eyes.
‘I’m just waiting for my friend,’ she said quickly, praying Gareth wouldn’t appear. This guy might be old but if he was anything like the other senior citizens around here, he could probably still gossip quite well.
‘Well, I hope there won’t be any more racket tonight. The bloke in the flat above me seems to like a party lifestyle.’ The man scowled and shuffled past her to the bins. She heard the clang of the metal bin lid and he came back past her without speaking again.
Rose looked around nervously, wondering how long Gareth might be.
He hadn’t offered her a spare key yet. Perhaps he wouldn’t until they’d been seeing each other a bit longer.
Gareth had first invited Rose back just over a week ago, before he and Cassie had their fall out.
‘This is it,’ Cassie had gasped when Rose told her she would be going round to the flat that evening. ‘Say goodbye to your virginity Rose.’
Rose had tutted and shook her head but Cassie had frowned. ‘You’re not dealing with an immature college boy now, you know. Gareth is a hot-blooded man. You’ll look like a silly kid if you put up too much of a fight.’
‘I’m not going to be railroaded into doing something I’m not comfortable with,’ Rose had said firmly.
‘There really is no hope for you,’ Cassie had sighed. ‘Answer me this: do you fancy him, yes or no?’
‘Yes!’
‘And do you want your relationship to continue?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Then what’s the problem?’ Cassie had shaken her head in frustration. ‘It’s natural you’ll start having sex soon, I’m surprised he’s been patient for so long.’
‘Natural for you, maybe,’ Rose had replied, scowling. ‘But I don’t feel ready yet, and anyway, he’s invited me over to his flat for dinner and a film, not a full-blown orgy.’
Cassie sniggered. ‘You’re so gonna end up like Miss Carter and her cats.’
Rose had pushed half a Pringle in her mouth and stared at the muted TV. Another episode of The Simpsons had been just about to start.
‘We could run through what to do, if you like. You know, a bit of foreplay.’ Cassie had cackled.
‘No thanks,’ Rose had said curtly. ‘Can you turn the sound up on the telly, please?’
Later, at Gareth’s house, Rose had wished she’d taken Cassie up on her uncomfortable offer of a ‘what to do’ conversation. She felt sick with an incompatible mix of excitement and dread.
The evening hadn’t quite turned out to be the romantic, candlelit affair she’d envisaged. It transpired that Gareth’s offer of dinner was actually a frozen pizza, supplemented by a lukewarm beer each. Rose had had the distinct feeling that he’d wanted the food out of the way as soon as possible. When she’d cleared away the plates, they’d moved over to the faux leather settee.
Gareth had kissed her on the lips. His lips had lingered there and she’d responded before gently pulling away.
‘Hey.’ He’d touched her cheek. ‘Are you OK, baby?’
‘Yes, fine,’ she’d said, trying and failing to sound relaxed. ‘Shall we watch the film now?’
‘Relax, princess.’ He’d given a throaty chuckle. ‘It’s nice to spend some time together, isn’t it? Just you and me, without your brattish brother interrupting us.’
He’d nudged her to show he was only teasing but she didn’t like it when he made remarks like that about Billy. She’d let it go, keen for the evening to be a success.
‘Yes,’ she’d said. ‘It’s lovely, being together like this.’
He’d kissed her again and this time she’d felt the gentle but insistent push of his tongue into her mouth. His right hand had slid from the top of her arm onto her breast in one smooth movement.
Rose had pulled away. His hand had been on top of her clothing but she’d still felt a bit panicky and rushed.
‘What’s wrong?’ His hand had dropped away and he’d looked at her.
‘Nothing!’ She’d felt a bit out of breath. ‘I’m just, I don’t know, a bit nervous, I suppose.’
Gareth had laughed softly. ‘There’s nothing to be nervous about, Rose.’
‘I know, but—’
‘But what?’
‘I’m not very good at this sort of thing. I’ve never—’ Her entire face, neck and chest had burned. She’d felt so foolish. ‘What I mean is—’
She’d pressed her lips together; it was all proving too painful.
Gareth had sucked in air. ‘Are you trying to tell me you’re a virgin, Rose?’
She’d given a single nod and looked at her hands. Her heart and head had both pounded in awful unison.
‘Don’t be embarrassed.’ Gareth’s hand had encased her fingers. ‘I knew you were and I think it’s wonderful.’
She’d looked at him.
‘You knew?’
‘Yes. The moment I saw you, I thought to myself, I’ve found a genuine beauty here. An unspoilt, innocent beauty in a sea of tarty wannabes.’
‘Gareth!’
‘It’s true, Rose. You’re a breath of fresh air. You’re beautiful inside and out, and I love you.’
She’d looked away.
‘I love you,’ he’d repeated. ‘And that’s why I want to be close to you. As close as I can possibly be.’
The skin on her hands had tingled. She’d wanted to hold him and run far away, all at the same time.
‘I can’t help but touch you,’ he’d whispered in her ear. ‘I want to be part of you… inside you.’
His hand had crept over her forearm and up her body, massaging her breast over her clothes. Rose’s breath had caught in her throat. She’d swallowed back the silent protest inside.
Relax, Rose, she’d told herself. Just relax.
29
SIXTEEN YEARS EARLIER
She wanted him, she really did. But then she felt so sick when she thought about the fact she was so completely out of her depth.
All manner of things might go wrong if they had sex too soon. Not least it would expose her as the inexperienced, stupid young girl she was. Surely it was better to wait until it felt a bit more special than this, and she felt more confident.
Gareth’s hand dropped away and she felt herself breathe freely and then his fingers touched the skin of her stomach and quick as a flash, his hand was under her top and slipping under the wire of her bra. She sat up straight and his hand fell away.
‘For God’s sake—’ He took a breath and the edge fell from his tone. ‘Rose, what’s wrong? Don’t you care about me?’
‘Yes! I do, I just—’
‘Then please, let’s make love. I’ve waited until now because I totally respect you, you know that, right?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, still struggling to push the feeling it was happening too soon out of her head.
‘Well then. I love you, you love me. Let’s cement that, so we belong to each other properly.’
Rose bit her lip and Gareth looked at his hands.
‘I don’t like mentioning it but since I moved here I’ve had girls throwing themselves at me, do you know that?’
She looked at him. She hadn’t known that.
‘I barely notice it, Rose, because I only have eyes for you. I only want you.’
Cassie’s words came back to her; the bit where she said Gareth would think she was just a big kid unless she shaped up. He was a man, not a spotty college boy. Of course the local girls were going to be throwing themselves at him, it made perfect sense. Girls like Cassie, who gave it up to anyone without a second thought.
They’d been dating a few weeks now and Gareth had always been a perfect gentleman. Hadn’t pushed her at all. If only she could make him understand how she felt.
‘I just don’t want to rush things,’ she tried again, hating how pathetically young she sounded.
‘Of course you don’t and I don’t want that either,’ Gareth said
softly. ‘But we’re not rushing because we’ve been together a while now. This is a natural progression in our relationship. Do you trust me, Rose?’
‘Course.’ She nodded, thinking it was still only a few weeks, no matter how he dressed it up.
‘Then show me.’ His leg pressed next to hers. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek and she gasped as his hand slid out from under her top, delving between her legs. ‘It’s time, Rose. I want you to belong to me.’
‘I just…’ Rose squirmed beneath his grasping hand. ‘I don’t know, Gareth.’
Rose gulped as all of a sudden he reared up over her and then his weight was upon her, pressing her down.
‘Do you want to be mine, Rose?’ His tongue wriggled into her mouth again before she could answer.
She lay frozen beneath him, her body a buzzing mass. She felt confused whether she was aroused or scared but she thought she wanted it to stop.
‘Do you love me?’ he asked urgently, pressing his groin into hers, his hand lowering from her breast to the zip of her jeans.
‘Yes,’ she gasped. ‘But—’
‘Then relax,’ he urged, unbuttoning her jeans. ‘I need to know you’re mine, Rose. I only want you, you know that, but I need us to be closer. Do you understand?’
Rose knew there must be lots of local girls who fancied him like mad. And she supposed it had to happen sometime; she couldn’t stay a virgin forever.
At least Gareth was kind and loved her and she loved him too. She did. And she wasn’t going to bloody well turn into Miss Carter, like Cassie constantly teased her.
‘Yes,’ Rose whispered as he lowered her zip and began to pull down her jeans. ‘I understand.’
After that, she’d been to Gareth’s flat most days. They hardly went out together at all any more. As soon as she got there, he just wanted to take her to bed.
And now, here she was again, waiting to see him on his lunch break.
She heard scuffling around the corner on the path and suddenly he appeared.
‘Sorry, Princess.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Those idiot volunteers, they haven’t a brain cell between them. They should’ve shut them all down there on the coalface to perish when they closed the pit.’
He caught her expression and laughed. ‘I don’t mean your dad, Rosie, just some of the others.’
She followed him into the flat.
He glanced at his watch and turned to her. ‘Fancy going to bed for half an hour?’
She had a sudden thought. ‘Do you know who lives below you?’
‘Some old bloke.’ Gareth shrugged. ‘Why?’
‘While I was waiting outside, this old guy said that the man above him had a party last night.’
‘Well, it certainly wasn’t me.’ Gareth laughed dismissively. ‘Maybe one of the other tenants. Now, what’s wrong, lovely? You look troubled.’
‘I – I just wanted to talk to you,’ she said, feeling a prickle in her eyes.
‘Hey, don’t get upset, Rosie.’ He led her through into the small living room/kitchenette area.
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ she said to him when he laid a warm hand on her shoulder. ‘You’re the only person who wants anything to do with me these days.’
‘I’m always here for you, Rose, you know that,’ he whispered, tangling his fingers in her hair as she knew he liked to do. Sometimes he pulled a bit tight and it made her grimace. ‘I’m yours and you belong to me. Every inch of you is mine from your glorious red hair to your cute little toes.’
She nodded, feeling relieved and thankful, burrowing deeper into his shoulder. She knew she could count on Gareth.
That’s why she’d agreed to have sex with him. He’d been gentle and considerate and he’d even said her embarrassment and lack of experience only made him love her more.
30
SIXTEEN YEARS EARLIER
After years of acting like the proverbial couch potato, her father now always seemed to be out of the house these days, working in his volunteer role within the village regeneration project.
‘He’s a new man,’ Stella had told her daughter on more than one occasion. ‘We have a lot to thank Gareth Farnham for. You should be a bit friendlier to him when he comes round, Rose.’
But Gareth had told her it was important to keep their relationship a secret for now and so when he did pop round to the house to speak to her father about project business, she purposely made herself scarce.
‘We know that a ten-year age gap is nothing but your parents are hopelessly old-fashioned,’ he told her. ‘I’ll set the seeds but let them think it’s their idea to get you more involved in the project and then we’ll have an excuse to spend lots of time together with their full knowledge.’
‘Why friendlier?’ Rose prodded her mother, wondering how she might feel when she and Gareth finally announced they were a couple. ‘I thought you’d think he’s too old for me.’
Stella rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t mean friendly like that. He’s told your dad he thinks of you in the way you might a younger sister. He’s done such a lot for this family and he’s going to be your dad’s boss once there’s a job going. You should make an effort to be a bit more sociable, is what I’m saying. Help out a bit more on the project.’
Rose had turned away and smiled to herself. Younger sister indeed! But it looked like Gareth’s plan was working.
It was amazing the way he seemed to understand what made her parents tick. He was so sensible and wise. He always knew the right thing to do and that’s why she found herself defaulting to his suggestions more and more. She trusted him completely.
But now, after her week-long ordeal at college with Cassie, she collapsed into Gareth’s arms.
‘What’s wrong, Rose?’
‘I just feel a bit low, that’s all,’ she said. ‘I just needed to see you, talk to you.’
‘Rosie. I think you need to think about leaving college.’
‘What?’ Her eyes grew wide. ‘B—but I’ve another eighteen months until I complete my course.’
He led her to the sofa.
‘But you haven’t got that long if you pull out early. I can give you a job on the regeneration project and then we’ll be together all the time.’
She felt a bolt of excitement at the prospect of working with Gareth, swiftly followed by the sickly worry of what her parents would have to say about it. Then she remembered Cassie’s threat.
He lifted her chin with a finger. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked again, his eyes burning into hers. ‘I can always tell when there’s something bothering you. I know you inside out and back to front; you should have realised that by now, silly girl.’
So she told him what Cassie had said, her opinion that Gareth was controlling her.
Initially she’d thought to keep their conversation to herself because she couldn’t imagine he would take it well. But of course, he’d been able to see right through her attempts to hold it all in.
‘It’s all rubbish,’ Rose concluded, after she’d repeated Cassie’s insults about him virtually word for word. ‘I know what she’s saying about you is wrong. She’s deluded.’
She smiled up at him, relieved to unburden herself but Gareth didn’t smile back.
‘It’s more than wrong. It’s slander. Spiteful lies.’ He bit down on his back teeth, setting his jaw. ‘That little bitch, she’s determined to split us up.’
‘I honestly think she means well,’ Rose said, eager to prevent one of Gareth’s long, low moods that he now seemed to suffer on an increasingly frequent basis. ‘She thinks she’s talking some sense into me.’
‘Don’t make excuses for her,’ Gareth growled. ‘She’s just jealous, pure and simple. Jealous of us.’
This made sense to Rose and she nodded. ‘She did admit she’d love an older boyfriend. She couldn’t wait to meet you, so I don’t know why she’s being so weird about things now.’
‘Like I said, it’s pure jealousy. I’ve never been anything other than p
olite to that girl,’ he said.
Rose remembered how Gareth had dragged his eyes in such a derogatory way over Cassie at her house the week before but she decided it wouldn’t be helpful to bring that up when he was already so peeved.
‘There’s… something else.’ Rose hesitated but decided he had to know, just in case. ‘I don’t think she means it but—’
He raised an eyebrow, and waited.
‘She threatened to tell Dad about us,’ Rose blurted out. ‘I don’t think she would for a minute but it has worried me a bit.’
Gareth stayed quiet for a moment or two but Rose saw that his hands were balling into tight fists.
‘She’d better not. If she ruins things for us, she’ll wish she’d never been born.’ His mouth bunched into a cruel sneer that made Rose’s blood run cold. ‘I’ll make sure of that.’
31
ROSE
PRESENT DAY
The ambulance pulls up outside Ronnie’s house and I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, like they tell you to do for pain relief.
Breathe, Rose, breathe, I tell myself silently.
The thought of facing him, of talking to him…
I watch from behind the nets as the paramedics carefully wheel Ronnie through the narrow wooden gate. I move to the front door, open it wide.
I can do this. I have to.
‘Come through,’ I tell the paramedics and they lift Ronnie out of the wheelchair and help him down into his armchair.
He looks smaller and thinner, his skin crinkled like discarded wrapping paper. He’s looking down at his hands but when I say his name, he looks up and gives me a thin smile, as if he’s only just realised I’m there.
‘Rose,’ he says in a thin, hoarse voice, as if to remind himself who I am. He seems reassured by the familiarity, as if he’s pleased to be home.
‘Hello, Ronnie,’ I say. The words wedge like a lump of gristle in my throat. I cough. ‘How are you feeling?’