by Leela Ash
“The sun never seems to set here,” she said, trying again for conversation. This time she said it directly to him and continued looking at him, forcing him into a response.
“Yup,” was his short and succinct reply. Jasmine smiled, she had her ‘in’. She dragged her bottom in the sand and wiggled over closer to him.
“Are you on a holiday as well?” she asked him, pasting a bright smile on her face. She could sense that he was studying her, even though his eyes were hidden behind his dark glasses. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, but Jasmine continued to stare and smile. He finally seemed to let out a sigh, pulling his glasses off his face. His sparkling, yet piercing blue eyes took Jasmine by surprise. They were focused directly and narrowly on her face and she couldn’t help but look away, embarrassed.
“No,” he said after what seemed like too much time. Jasmine looked back at him, gave him a weak smile and turned her face away again. She knew his eyes were still on her, making her feel naked and exposed for some reason.
“You’re clearly on one,” he said after a few moments. Jasmine looked back at him and tried to nod and smile.
“Yeah. Sort of,” she said and unconsciously licked her lips. Without the large glasses covering his face, she could now see his rugged sharp jaw lines clearly. He was clean shaven, while his thick, greying hair was neatly cut and brushed back. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, and Jasmine was growing increasingly uncomfortable under his glare.
“So you live here? That must be lovely,” she finally said, hoping to distract him from studying her so keenly. He smiled suddenly, and her heart nearly stopped. His slim lips stretched broadly, and a boyish sparkle made his eyes shine even more brightly. Jasmine couldn’t help but smile back; even though she wasn’t entirely sure what they were smiling for.
“It is indeed,” he said eventually and in one quick motion placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose again and picked up his book.
“What are you reading there?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Ulysses and Us,” is all he said and offered no other explanation or illuminating insight into a book, which for all he knew Jasmine might be interested in. He didn’t even look away from the page he was concentrating on.
“Ah, Joyce!” Jasmine said, trying to drag the conversation on a little further.
“About Joyce,” he corrected gruffly. She could see that his brows were scrunched above his glasses. She bit down on her lip and decided to leave him alone, even though she had no idea what she had done to offend him. She turned around to face the sea again, although she remained in the same spot, a few feet away from this man she couldn’t stop stealing glances at from the corner of her eye.
“Have you read Ulysses?” she was surprised to hear his voice and turned around. He was looking at her with a smirk on his face, his glasses were off again. For an older mature man, he sure couldn’t make up his mind.
“I tried and failed three times over; now it’s only a doorjamb,” she said, trying to make a joke. It obviously didn’t impress him, but he still smiled.
“You’ll get there. I don’t think I managed to finish it before I was thirty-five myself and haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since,” this sudden softening of his tone took Jasmine by surprise, a pleasant surprise that made her heart skip a beat. The fact that he was willing to have an actual conversation with her made her self-conscious and she held her head up higher than usual.
“Do you read for pleasure or is it connected in some way to your work?” she tried to further the conversation and turned her body to face him again. He laughed at that and she liked the sound of it, it had a sort of wise and self-assured tone to it.
“I wish my avocation was my vocation. No, our family business kept me busy during my youth but now I seem to have more time on my hands for reading,” he said and smiled. Jasmine didn’t know if these references to his age were purposeful on his part or not, but she couldn’t stop herself from flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She was immediately aware that it might have been too obvious a flirtatious move on her part, but thankfully there was no change of expression on his face.
“What about you?” he asked, and she told him in brief about her life as a kindergarten teacher.
“That is very interesting,” he said immediately after she had finished. “My family, or whatever is left of it, runs a private school in Bloomingshire,” he said and Jasmine raised her eyebrow.
“Wait. You own Mornmouth House School?” Jasmine’s jaw almost dropped. She didn’t know many people personally who went to that school, but you would have to be living under a rock not to have heard of it. He only smiled in response. Jasmine licked her lips as she watched him return his attention to the book. He caught her looking when he suddenly turned his gaze to her and Jasmine dropped her eyes, embarrassed.
“What is an attractive young woman like you doing teaching kindergarten?” he asked and the word “attractive” was enough to make Jasmine blush like a school girl.
“That’s exactly what my mother says, well, not in exactly those words.” Jasmine didn’t want to meet his eyes; she could sense that they were on her.
“Not that there’s no nobility in it,” he added, and she looked at him; her cheeks were burning up, and it had nothing to do with the sun. He didn’t shy away from looking at her when their eyes met. He had a smirk on his face and he seemed to be drinking in her features. She was hoping it was more than general curiosity.
“I’m Marvin Byrne,” he said suddenly as he turned a page in the book. He didn’t look at her when he said this, but Jasmine couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m Jasmine. Jasmine Kiberd,” she said cheerily and stuck out her hand towards him. He just seemed like the kind of person who liked to shake hands. He apparently didn’t, though. He was looking at her again from behind his glasses, his book was still in his hands, not making a motion to accept the handshake at all. Instead he said, “I see,” and stood up suddenly.
Jasmine couldn’t help but look surprised as she watched him bend down and bunch up the towel from the sand and then start walking away. He didn’t look back at her or exchange parting words. She remained sitting, with her mouth hanging slightly open as she watched him walking away from her. His loose blue trunks outlined the sinews on his thighs as he took each step.
I see? I see! Who says that! Jasmine was screaming inside her head.
Chapter 4
“Where have you been?” Jasmine heard her mother yell at her just as she banged the front door shut.
“I told you I was going to the beach.” Her mind was too occupied with Marvin and his ill manners to be sweating over appeasing her mother.
“He’ll be here in an hour,” her mother said, appearing from a room within with the dusting cloth still in her hand. She had, thankfully, taken her jacket off and Jasmine could see sweat stains under her armpits on the dark blouse she was wearing.
“Exactly why you need a shower,” she couldn’t help but smirk. She had never seen her poised mother so worked up before.
“You need one as well, in fact,” she said and crossed her arms across her chest. Camilla was looking her daughter up and down with stern eyes. “Will you please wear something appropriate for the evening?” she stated rather than asked.
“I’ll wear something clean. I want to stress again how this is not a business meeting,” Jasmine said as her mother brushed past her to wipe imaginary dust off the shelf behind Jasmine.
“This is not a kindergarten, Jasmine. The appropriate thing would be to look professional,” she heard her mother add as she climbed the long spiral staircase to her makeshift room.
The room that she had chosen for her stay in the house had been dusty, but Jasmine had managed to wipe it down and find new linen for the bed. Floral patterned upholstery covered the two armchairs, and a wide oval wooden mirror rested in the corner. Jasmine stood in front of it and realized she had some sand on her face.
He m
ust have thought I’m a silly girl. She couldn’t get Marvin out of her head. She turned on her heels and found her big bag on the floor. She rummaged around inside it and pulled out a pair of dark straight jeans and a thin, red silk blouse. “This will have to do,” she said aloud and thanked God that she’d packed her favorite pair of red pumps as well.
•••
The long shower Jasmine treated herself to seemed to have calmed her racing mind. She patted her curls dry with the old towel she found hanging in the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. The jeans fit snugly around her waist, accentuating the curves of her hips and thighs. The soft material of her blouse stretched across her voluptuous breasts and she ran a muted rose colored lipstick over her pouting lips. The warm weather dried her hair much quicker than she had anticipated. The humidity still added volumes to its mass, but now that it was fresh and clean, her auburn curls looked soft and like a different shade of her blouse.
“Jasmine, will you please come down?” Camilla’s voice boomed around the house, and she skipped over to the door, trying to slip into her shoes on her way out.
“What is it?” she asked as her heels clicked against the wood of the staircase. She never failed to be surprised by how her mother always managed to look on-point. She was in one of her black skirt-suits again, with a white, high-collared blouse sticking out from the folds of her jacket. Her bob was neatly combed back, and not a strand of hair was astray. The fact that she was wearing her pearls indicated to Jasmine that she was clearly trying very hard to impress.
“I just want you to empty out the bottle of Glenlivet into the crystal decanter in the drawing room,” she said, patting her hair down – not that it needed any more patting.
“You carried Scotch with you?” Jasmine widened her eyes as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Well, I would have liked to arrange for some hors d'oeuvres, too, but that of course would be impossible,” she replied casually.
“Wow. You’re charging ahead with guns blazing aren’t you?” Jasmine giggled and walked over to the drawing room which now looked more than presentable. Most of the light bulbs were dysfunctional, but the few that still worked added a faded charm to the room.
“Good job with the tidying up, Mom,” she said loudly as she found the unopened box of whiskey on top of the corner bar.
“It’s the best I could do in half a day,” her mother replied from the hallway, just as Jasmine heard a loud rap on the front door.
“Jasmine, he’s here. Be good,” Camilla hurriedly said, peeping into the drawing room as she began pouring the whiskey into the decanter that her mother had polished down earlier.
“Calm down, Mom,” she managed to say, just as her mother disappeared.
Jasmine remained standing by the bar as she heard the front door open and her mother’s nervous high pitched voice greeting someone.
“I trust you’ve seen the house from the outside before,” Camilla’s loud voice could probably be heard all around the house. “Let’s have a quick chat before I take you on the tour,” Jasmine heard her add a nervous laugh to that and she rolled her eyes.
She hadn’t heard the gentleman’s voice yet, but seconds later her mother entered the drawing room with her arm outstretched, directing her guest into the room.
When she saw Marvin walk in, Jasmine’s heart stopped and she didn’t even try to not look surprised. Marvin was in tan slacks now, a white Polo t-shirt covered his torso, which she had seen bare only a few hours ago. His hair was combed back as before and his piercing blue eyes were lazily taking in the drawing room until they rested on Jasmine standing in the corner. He looked his age when he was clothed. In the faded light of the room he looked much older. His hair suddenly looked more grey, and there were lines on his face that she hadn’t noticed in the sun. He looked more tired too. Marvin didn’t seem to be as surprised as she was. Instead, his eyes betrayed a mocking glimmer, and he smirked.
“Hello Jasmine,” were the first words he spoke in the house, and that voice was unmistakable. Jasmine would have recognized that tone anywhere.
Chapter 5
“You’ve met?” Jasmine’s mother broke the silence as she and Marvin stood staring at each other. That smirk on his face was devastating Jasmine, while all she could do was gape in surprise.
“At the beach,” he explained and from the corner of her eye, Jasmine could see her mother nod nervously.
“Ah, lovely! So no introductions necessary,” her mother said with a flourish and stretched her arm again, offering Marvin a seat on the couch. Marvin remained standing and finally dragged his eyes away from Jasmine and back to inspecting the room.
“Jasmine, why don’t you pour us some Scotch and we can all sit down for a chat,” her mother urged again, her polite smile not leaving her face. Jasmine turned mechanically towards the bar and began pouring out two fingers of the whiskey into three recently polished glasses.
“None for me, thank you,” Marvin said politely and took a few steps in the direction of the open window at the end of the room.
Jasmine and her mother exchanged looks.
“You’ll have to forgive us. The house has been locked up for years, as you know. We arrived only today and didn’t have much of an opportunity to clean up,” Camilla said with a nervous laugh, expecting Marvin to comment on what a good cleaning job had been done in such a short time. Marvin, again, said nothing, narrowing his eyes instead while inspecting one of the paintings hanging on the wall next to the window.
“My father didn’t really have an eye for art,” her mother nervously laughed again and walked over to where Marvin was standing. He silently turned to look at her and then slowly looked away. His face seemed expressionless. His lips closed tight while his arms were crossed behind his back. He looked more like an art critic than a potential buyer for the house. Jasmine was also growing increasingly embarrassed by her mother’s attempts to please him.
“I’m sure Mr. Byrne is aware of the house’s qualities,” Jasmine said curtly; Camilla and Marvin both turned around to look at her. She hadn’t spoken a word until then. A look of fright entered her mother’s eyes while Marvin seemed to smile sadistically. Those blue eyes were focused on Jasmine again, and she held his gaze bravely.
“Those qualities are long gone Ms. Kiberd,” Marvin finally said. Jasmine could see her mother flush a bright red as she stood beside him, barely able to meet his eye or come up with a response.
“The house has not been lived in for several years,” Jasmine said, hoping that her voice did not betray how shaken she felt by his eyes on her.
“Neither has anybody bothered to look after it,” Marvin replied immediately.
“Our family faced difficulties which, unfortunately, took our attention away from looking after the house,” Jasmine said. She was clutching one of the glasses of whiskey in her right hand, and now she swirled the liquid around for lack of something to do with her hands.
She was equally as surprised as her mother when Marvin suddenly laughed. It sounded cruel and almost inhuman when he did that.
“I’m well aware of that,” he said and looked around the room again.
“Mr. Byrne, we are certainly aware that the house requires some attention. But I’m sure you can see that it won’t require much,” Jasmine’s nervousness was now giving way to irritation. Marvin’s behavior was rude and she could see her mother panicking.
“This house will never sell in this town. Especially in this condition. You must certainly be aware of that as well,” Marvin said and both her mother and Jasmine stood staring at him in silence. She almost expected her mother to faint and fall to the floor.
“We were expecting an interested buyer Mr. Byrne. We didn’t know you were meeting with us to criticize the condition of our house,” Jasmine managed to say. She knew her eyes were wide and angry; her lips were quivering, and she couldn’t hide the shakiness from her voice any longer.
Marvin shrugged his shoulders and threw her ano
ther smile.
“Mr. Byrne,” Jasmine’s mother squeaked, after several minutes of silence. “What my daughter is trying to say is that we know that the house hasn’t been looked after, and we appreciate your interest in it,” her voice was meek and submissive, and all Jasmine wanted to do was show Marvin the door – and maybe push him out of it. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her mother look so utterly subdued.
Marvin seemed to grunt and look around the room again.
“Why don’t we show you the rest of the house and you can sleep on it?” Jasmine could see her mother visibly struggling with keeping a polite and straight face.
“I think I’ve seen enough. I’m well acquainted with the layout of the house, thank you,” Marvin said and dug his hands into the pockets of his pants.
“Oh yes! You mentioned you’d met my father,” she said, forcing joviality into her voice. Marvin didn’t respond to that, but instead just threw Jasmine another look and began walking out of the room.
“Are you sure you won’t stay for a drink?” Camilla called after him, but he didn’t respond. Just like that evening on the beach, Marvin was walking away from the scene without a parting word.
“Jasmine, what did we do wrong?” her mother wailed the second they heard the front door bang shut. She watched as her mother collapsed onto the couch with her face in her hands.
“I don’t understand, Jasmine,” she was repeating, her voice muffled by her hands. Jasmine remained standing where she had stood throughout the entire episode. Without thinking, she gulped down all the whiskey from the glass in her hand.
“I’m going over there,” Jasmine said, almost to herself.
“What?” her mother raised her head to ask. Her eyes were puffy and her voice was screechy.
“I’m going over to his house. He has no right,” Jasmine said and banged the glass down on the bar. Her nerves as rattled as the glass against the wood.