by Wells, J
They sat not far from the entrance of the waiting room, which was a reasonable size. To the left was a mirrored wall with high-back swivel chairs for hairdressers and at the far end, on the opposite side, was a nail extension station. There were half a dozen staff busying themselves with a group of women of varying ages; it was obviously a wedding party. Heather watched with interest as their hair was styled with loose cascading curls clipped into place, complemented by jewel-encrusted tiaras. She felt almost sorry for them, as the sun had no intention of showing its face that day. Perhaps it was a trial, but somehow she didn’t think so.
“Hi, stranger, long time no see.”
A blonde-haired therapist dressed in a white tunic and trousers walked up to Beth, and leant down to give her a friendly hug.
She looked from Beth to Ruben, and said, “Your therapists are ready for you now.”
Beth stood up, and turning to Frank she took his hand and pulled him from his seat.
“Come on then.”
“By the way,” the therapist said, addressing Ruben and Heather, “your therapists are running over slightly. You can either wait here, or if you’d prefer, you can undress in the treatment room.”
Ruben’s eyebrow raised, and he nudged Heather discreetly.
“Robes are hanging up on the door, and you can make yourselves comfortable on the couches. They’ll be with you as soon as possible; sorry about the delay.”
“Yeah, love, that sounds great.”
“Would you all like to follow me?” the therapist said, walking towards a door that led them into a narrow corridor, taking them away from the hairdressing area. The size of the salon from the reception was deceptive, and there must have been a good twelve treatment rooms. The therapist beckoned to Beth, smiling as she opened a door.
“Your therapists today will be Laura and Gemma. If you’d like to undress and make yourselves comfortable, they’ll be with you shortly.”
“See you later, guys. Enjoy; I know I will. Hot stone therapy is out of this world,” Beth sighed, taking a confused and awkward-looking Frank by the hand. “Come on, this will do wonders for ya hangover. I promise, you’ll feel like a new man by the time Laura has finished with you.”
The door clicked shut behind them.
“And this is your treatment room,” the therapist continued, stopping three doors later.
“Are we having the same?” Heather asked before entering.
“No, Beth’s booked you both in for a chocolate massage.”
“You’ll smell good enough to eat then, won’t you, girl?” was Ruben’s cheesy comment.
Heather felt his hands on the cheeks of her behind as he playfully pushed her into the awaiting treatment room.
“By the way, my name’s Judy. I will be your therapist today. We’re just waiting for Jackie. There’s been a few hiccups with the bridal make-up, but not to worry, just go in and relax,” Judy said, closing the door behind them.
The room had a very comfy, almost intimate feel to it. Soft soothing music played in the background, the quartet of flautists adding to the relaxed atmosphere. Fresh aromatherapy oils emitting a rich scent of lavender smouldered away in lavish oil burners around the room. The walls were painted in subtle shades of beige and rich brown, and two couches made up like beds with silken throws lay just far enough apart to be able to walk between them. Luxurious towelling gowns, as promised, hung on the back of the door.
“Can’t see a ‘Do not disturb’ sign,” Ruben said as he looked around, “but I can go one better,” he muttered, turning the latch on the door and making damn sure they had total privacy.
Chapter Six
Getting Rather Hot
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not standing ’ere for me bloody health,” Ruben said.
Heather could feel his eyes undressing her.
“Come here, girl, lift ya arms up.”
Scared to disappoint him again, Heather obeyed. She could feel his hands and the tips of his fingers against her skin, intimate as they moved up her sides and shoulders. Then he slipped her T-shirt over her head, and while taking her next breath, she heard the zip of her jeans, which were then lowered to her ankles. Bending down, Ruben kissed her thighs, and she felt his tongue caressing her legs while looking up into her eyes approvingly. Standing slowly, he picked her up and took her into his arms. Heather instinctively folded her legs around his waist. Closing her eyes, their lips met in a lingering kiss. Ruben groaned as he pulled away, running his teeth over her ear and then biting the lobe. Then he gently lowered her back so she was resting on the couch.
“Stay there,” he panted, his breath laboured, shimmering beads of sweat around his temples. With one hand he ripped off his T-shirt, and Heather lay back, admiring his tattoos, which looked so sexy and vivid in the subdued lighting. His sweatpants soon joined his T-shirt underneath the couch.
“Look what I’ve found,” he whispered sensually, dipping his fingers into a black ceramic pot at the top end of the couch. “Looks like you’ll be having your own private massage today,” he giggled.
Caught up in the moment, Heather relaxed back on the bed, opening herself up to him. Closing her eyes, she felt the rich warm chocolate and Ruben’s hands as he applied a slight pressure and carefully massaged the sweet-smelling dark substance over her stomach. She felt it trickling into her belly button and lying there like a pool, then his tongue circling...
“Don’t taste much like chocolate to me.” He gagged, but he was not put off for long. “I’m going to smear chocolate over every inch of your body,” he murmured, running his fingers seductively around the outline of her lacy French knickers.
Heather reached up, stroking his arms and pulling him closer. He now lay on top of her, and she once again wrapped her legs around him, tightening her grip, and their kisses became more and more intense.
Maybe this is it, she thought to herself.
“Hello?” a voice shouted, followed by a knock on the door.
“Oh shit!” Ruben said, and jumped up. “I’m coming,” he called, almost falling off the couch.
Heather quickly slipped under the covers, wiping herself down as best she could. Grabbing a robe, Ruben unlatched the door and opened it, presenting the therapist with a large smile and a face smeared in chocolate.
“Sorry, love, it’s been a good twenty minutes; had to do something to keep ourselves occupied,” he said, stopping mid-sentence after seeing the therapist’s expression. “No, we didn’t do owt, well, not like that anyway,” he went on, digging himself a bigger hole. “Just found the chocolate and...”
“Yes, I think I can see,” Judy replied.
Jackie then arrived and seemed to find it all quite amusing.
Heather and Ruben lay side by side during the massage, eyes closed and holding hands. Ruben softly rubbed the inside of her palm with his forefinger. Turning to face him, their eyes met momentarily. No words were spoken between them, there didn’t need to be, for closing her eyes once again she knew just how badly he wanted her.
Almost in a dream state, they heard one of the therapists say, “We’ll leave you relaxing for five minutes; we’re just going to fetch the hot towels.”
Once again, the therapists left them alone.
Heather’s eyes opened slightly and she looked at Ruben under her lashes. His eyes were still fixed on her.
“No more excuses,” he said. “I’m having you tonight ... all night.”
Heather closed her eyes and she quivered at the thought. It had taken her a while, but he was the one, and she knew now she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
Once they were both dressed and feeling very relaxed, Ruben reached into his pocket and gave each therapist a tip.
“What’s the damage then?” he asked the receptionist, reaching for his wallet.
“You’re okay, it’s already been taken care of.”
“Talking about Beth, any idea where they’ve gone?” Ruben asked.
“No. I
saw them leave I’d say a good half hour ago.”
“Okay, thanks,” Ruben replied, placing his arms around Heather affectionately as they left the salon. “Knowing Beth, she’ll be having a coffee somewhere, or moseying around the shops. She’s always on the lookout for a bargain. The kids live in second-hand hand-me-downs. Bless her, though, she tries,” he continued as they made their way back to the car park.
“Ruben, they’re in the car,” Heather said, relieved upon seeing them chatting in the yellow Mini Cooper. The last thing she felt like was being dragged around shops.
They took a slow drive back to the tree house. The car smelt more like an expensive boudoir, with all the different scents of aromatherapy oils left on their skin from their treatments.
“Told ya she’d been bloody shopping,” Ruben said, seeing a couple of plastic carriers on Frank’s lap.
“Actually, you’re wrong,” Beth replied, her eyes meeting his briefly in the rear-view mirror. “There was a car boot at the back of the church. Not a lot there to be honest, just picked up a few bits and bobs. There is one thing I picked up though that I thought we could have a laugh with later, over drinks.”
“Go on,” Ruben said, leaning forward with interest. He took a peek in the top of the bags. “And what the bloody hell do you plan to do with that when you get home? I’ve got enough of your crap in the flat...”
“What is it?”
“It’s stupid, Heather, I wouldn’t even bother asking,” Ruben said shaking his head. “Don’t believe in all that superstitious malarkey anyway, and neither do you.”
“Is anybody going to tell me what it is?” Heather said, getting quite annoyed at being left out of the loop.
“It’s a Ouija board...”
Its presence unnerved her after the unexplainable happenings of late, and it was the last thing she wanted to think about, let alone participate in, afraid of what door she may open next.
“No, I don’t want that thing within a hundred miles of me. Get it out of the car!”
“You’re joking! Cost me a fiver. And whether you want to do it or not, it’s coming home with me. It was Frank’s idea to buy it anyway.”
Heather shook her head, sinking back into the seat.
~•••~
Six o’clock approached. The afternoon had flown by, and Ruben was taking them out into town to treat them all to an à la carte meal at a small restaurant that he and Beth had visited on a couple of occasions. He’d only packed one shirt, which he thought would be fitting for the occasion. He and Frank sat chatting awkwardly in the lounge. Ruben had opened a couple of cans, hoping the alcohol would get some kind of conversation flowing, Frank being a man of very few words. Meanwhile, Heather and Beth dolled themselves up, alternating between the Jack and Jill en suite and the small mirror in the main bedroom.
“The food’s fantastic there; you must try the venison, it’s to die for,” Beth said, applying a second coat of pink lipstick.
Heather smiled. She felt quite at ease with Beth, and a growing confidence in herself and Ruben’s relationship after what happened at the salon. A loud banging on the door made them both jump.
“Bloody hell, Ruben! The table’s not booked for another fifty minutes,” Beth shouted. “Give us a chance!”
“Beth, it’s mum.”
Beth’s face dropped. “How bad this time?”
“Bad,” Ruben replied. “She’s back in hospital, we’ve got to go.”
He walked in, phone in hand, and sat on the bed, his face a mixed emotion of anger and disappointment. “The worst of it is, I’m well over the limit.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll drive,” Beth said, trying to calm him down. Turning to Heather, she added, “We’ll come back in the morning for you and Frank.”
“What’s wrong? Couldn’t we all go in the morning?” Heather asked, not able to understand what the sudden urgency was.
“Can’t explain now, but no,” Ruben said. “Give us five to grab a couple of things.”
He left the room.
“What on earth’s going on, Beth?”
“It’s complicated to be honest, and not really my place to say,” Beth said, changing back into her old jeans and the top she had travelled down in. Seeing Heather’s face, she must have thought better of it, and so, lowering her voice, she tried to explain Ruben’s mum’s predicament.
“What I’m about to tell you isn’t common knowledge; in fact, it’s quite hush, hush,” Beth began as she sorted through the wardrobe, throwing what she could into her travel bag. “Her problem, or should I say condition, goes back years, and probably started not long after Ruben was born. Angela suffers from bipolar; you see, I’m her psychiatric nurse... That’s how I met Ruben, on a home visit. It’s a mental illness and she’s very unstable, especially during her lows. I dread to think what she’s done this time. Ruben’s been really affected. His dad’s always been in denial and buried himself in his business ventures, constantly throwing money at Ruben, almost as a way of buying his silence, so Ruben spent his childhood at home with an untreated manic depressive. He was there through the highs and the lows, and he told me many times he used to hide under the bed to escape her violent outbursts.”
“Oh my God!” Heather gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.
“I know, poor Ruben, eh?” Beth continued. “She was assessed about ten years ago and as a rule the medication has kept her stable ... when she remembers to take it, that is.”
Pausing briefly, she popped into the en suite and returned with her toiletry bag.
“Don’t worry, Heather, we’ll soon have things sorted,” Beth said, giving her a reassuring hug.
She grabbed her bags and walked back into the lounge, where Ruben was pacing the floor, clearly agitated. Heather followed them onto the veranda and watched them through the stairs banister.
“Don’t worry,” Heather called down, “I’m fully comp. I’ll drive your car back in the morning.”
Ruben looked up before running back up the staircase and wrapping his arms around her.
“If you’re sure,” he said, passing her the car keys. “Satnav’s in the glovebox. I’ll text you later.” Holding her wrist firmly, he jibed in a low voice, “Don’t forget I saw Frank with his hands all over you on the stairs, but never again will I be made an idiot out of by you or any other girl, so make sure you behave yourself.”
Kissing her on the forehead, he turned and headed down the stairs. Beth sat revving the engine, and he hurried towards the car. He looked over his shoulder briefly and gave Heather a quick wave, before disappearing into the passenger seat. The car moved away between the trees and within seconds was engulfed by the evening’s mist.
Heather couldn’t face Frank. She felt almost afraid, like she was being unfaithful to Ruben. But why should she feel like that? She pulled out a chair on the veranda and sank down onto it, feeling perplexed and totally at odds with her feelings. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was her stomach in knots? She had a gut-wrenching feeling that wouldn’t leave her. She leant forward on the table, resting her head in her hands, and breathed deeply as she watched the mist rolling in to join her.
She heard footsteps, and she could feel Frank’s presence without even turning.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked, a big smile on his face as he placed a mug of tea on the table for her and pulled out a chair beside her.
“Yes, actually I do,” Heather said angrily. “All you’ve done since we got here is ruin this weekend for me, and cause trouble between me and Ruben,” she snapped, her face reddening. “I mean, does it really look like I need a chaperone? If I want to sleep with Ruben or anyone else for that matter, it’s my decision, and none of your bloody business. What’s wrong with you anyway? Haven’t you got a life? Friends, or your own girlfriend?”
Frank said nothing and lowered his eyes.
Placing his hand softly on Heather’s shoulder, he said sheepishly, “If I’ve caused you any distress, M
iss Richardson, I am dreadfully sorry.”
Tutting, Heather was now on a roll. “And another thing that’s been bothering me, why do you speak like a bloody toff? Actually no, more like you’re from another planet? And the name’s Heather, not Miss Richardson!”
“I’m sorry if my manner offends you. I do feel my speech has improved greatly since being in your company.”
“Ha, if you think so,” Heather scowled. “Just go away and leave me alone, Frankie.”
“It is a dangerous game you play, a detrimental edge to your character.”
“Games? I don’t play bloody games. Can’t you see I’m not thirteen any more? People change, so stop living in the past and get a life.”
A sadness enveloped Frank’s face. “That’s all I want. I see now that I’ve been living under a misapprehension, so I think goodbye is in order, Miss...” He paused briefly, correcting himself. “Heather.”
She watched him as he disappeared down the steps and walked into the woods. He didn’t stop once or turn back. She sat for a while, looking at the trees, sure that he’d return.
“Bloody hell, Frankie!” she cursed.
On reflection, she couldn’t quite believe how she’d spoken to him, her rudeness unforgivable; it wasn’t like her at all, not in her nature. It would normally take a lot more than that to get under her skin; it was usually only her dad who managed to rub her up the wrong way, always knowing which buttons to press. Shutting the patio door, she ran down the steps calling his name, but there was no answer. With the mist and fading light, Heather ran into the forest and soon lost her bearings. Her hair, wet from the mist, now hung lank like rats’ tails around her face. Blinded by the damp air, she stood panting for a second, rubbing her eyes, but everything looked exactly the same, and whichever way she turned, there was no sign of the tree house or Frank anywhere. Panicking once more, she started to run, breathlessly zigzagging between the trees, unnerved by the rustling leaves. She ran until she could run no more, and, collapsing to the ground, she lay sobbing uncontrollably.
“Heather...”
Frank’s voice was now a welcome sound to her ears, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, embarrassed by her earlier outburst. She felt two strong arms lifting her up, encompassing her whole body. Frank held her close, and she was too tired and upset to argue, so she buried her head into his broad chest and clasped her arms around his neck.