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Perhaps.... Perhaps

Page 13

by Dale, Lindy


  ‘You’ve spilt your wine,’ she murmured, no knowing what else to say, how to express the deep and burning desire she felt. ‘If we sponge it now, it should come out.’ Embarrassed at her thoughts, she ran to get a cloth, and handing it to him sat back down on the sofa. ‘Here.’

  Luke looked down in dismay. The new shirt, never worn, was ruined. ‘If you wanted me to take my clothes off you could have just asked,’ he said slowly, gazing into her eyes, Mrs Barker forgotten.

  ‘I… I …’ she stammered. This seduction thing was not as easy as she had thought it would be.

  Taking the cloth from her, Luke placed it on the coffee table. ‘It was a joke, Flora. I know that’s not what you meant.’

  Oh but I did, I did, her heart cried. She wanted him so much she was sick with wanting. ‘Perhaps, if you take it off I could put it in the wash for you?’ she offered.

  ‘Perhaps…’ he said, placing a finger under her chin, raising her eyes to his. ‘Or perhaps… we could do what we both know I came here to do….’ His eyes darkened, changing to a shade somewhere between brown and black and Flora quivered as slowly, leaning across the space between them, he closed them and put his mouth to hers.

  Flora’s heart began to pound, her knees, though she was sitting, trembled and her lips parted as she returned the kiss. She could feel the wetness from the wine on his chest as she undid his buttons while he kissed her neck. She could feel her fists trying not to clench at the thought of it soiling her blouse. She could feel his heart pounding too, as she peeled the shirt from his shoulders and he tossed it onto the shag pile rug.

  ‘Luke,’ she all but screeched.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The shirt….’ she whimpered, seeing the nonexistent stains in her mind and wondering how she would remove them.

  ‘Forget it,’ he moaned, taking her in his arms again.

  Flora sighed. What did it matter if the rug was ruined too? All that mattered was that moment in time, the one where he pressed her into the cushions of the sofa and kissed her fiercely. All that she cared about was the fact that she wanted him. She wanted him never to stop. She wanted him to be as bad as he could be and take her there with him.

  ****

  Flora lay next to Luke in the large iron bed. His arm was curled around her shoulder and her head rest on his chest, her finger tracing the skin around his nipple stained red from the wine. Sighing, she leant over to lick at the spot and smile up at him. He was perfect. His body was hard and toned. His face was brimming with salacious contentment. His dark hair, all mussed from the sex, only made him look more desirable. She knew he cared for her. The way he looked at her confirmed that. But something was not right. He was holding back.

  Remembering her previous vow to herself, Flora decided to act. It was time she knew the truth. ‘Why have you been ignoring me, Luke? Is this just a sex thing for you? Because if it is I need to know. I don’t know how to behave when you’re all hot and cold without reason.’

  Luke was silent for a moment, his eyes trained on a place somewhere in the darkness. ‘I apologise,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s never been my intention to confuse or upset you. In fact, my only intention was to get my job done and get away from you as fast as humanly possible.’

  Flora froze. How could he say that?

  Luke squeezed her closer to him. His tone was gentle. ‘That didn’t sound good did it? What I meant was… You’re a very difficult girl to resist, Flora. Your glorious hair, your big doll eyes, the way your hips move when you walk up the stairs to take the children to library. Believe me, I’ve been trying to resist because…. well….’ He inhaled a slow breathe, steeling himself. ‘There’s something I have to tell you; it’ll explain why I’ve been acting so abysmally towards you. It’s nothing to do with our professional relationship but it has everything to do with you and me.’

  ‘What is it?’ What could be so bad that he was holding her as if she was going to run away at his admission?

  ‘I’m afraid you might not want to talk to me after I tell you.’

  Biting her lip, she twined her fingers through his and kissed them. Nothing could be that bad. ‘Tell me.’

  Luke swallowed. ‘I have a fiancé in Brisbane and in two months I’m going to be married. Her name is Juliana.’

  Beneath his hand, Flora’s body stiffened. Her blood turned to ice and froze in her veins. Her fingernails dug into his palm. This was not what she had expected. This was bad. Worse even.

  Saying nothing, she turned her head to look out the bedroom window and away from him, pushing herself from his embrace. Her skin felt like cold, his fingers blistering as he reached out to pull her back. She’d sensed from the start that something other than their professional relationship was keeping them apart, but she had never dreamed it would be this.

  Unable to face him, she spoke at last, whispering into the darkness between them. ‘Why are you here with me, then?’ She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the truth or if it would even be the truth. He was cheating, after all. He was a liar. It didn’t matter what he said to justify the situation. He was exactly the same as her mother. He had made her love him and now he would leave.

  Luke’s sigh was weighted with remorse. ‘I don’t know. I’ve tried to stay away, believe me I have, but you’re irresistible to me. I’ve never felt anything like the indescribable feelings I have for you. It’s as if I only exist to see your face every day.’ Earnestly, he turned her face to his and gazed into her eyes. His own were moist with tears nearly cried. He was speaking the truth, she knew it. She could feel it in his caresses, sense it in the way his eyes delved into hers. But it didn’t change the reality. Luke belonged to another woman. He would never be hers.

  Flora pulled away from the crook of his arm and shuffled her body so that they lay side by side without touching. He belonged to another. She couldn’t let him touch her. She lost all resolve when he did that.

  ‘And you have sex with all girls who are irresistible? This a common occurrence for you?’ she asked. Because if it was, she was going to exert her newfound self-assurance and punch him in the nose.

  ‘Not as a rule. You’re the only one. I’m not what you think.’ His fingertips reached out to smooth the skin on her upper arm but she brushed it away. ‘From the first moment I saw you at Enrico’s I felt a pull towards you. A connection.’

  A surge of anger coursed through her.

  ‘Why? Why?’ she pleaded, as, unable to control it, she lashed out at his chest, the urge to pinch him or punch him tingling in the tips of her fingers. How could he even presume to know what she thought? He was the worst sort of cheater and yet she was the one who was feeling ripples of guilt sweeping through her. Why? What had she done that had been so terrifyingly wrong except be attracted to a man whom she had thought to be single? The tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her cheek and onto the pillow. Her anger turned to sobs so painful that she felt she couldn’t breathe.

  ‘This was just a game to you, wasn’t it? You sucked me in until I my feelings were so strong I changed my whole personality, and now, when it’s too late for me to turn away, you tell me you’re engaged? Are you hoping it will make no difference to me? Do you think I’m that kind of girl?’

  Luke was silent. He did look dreadfully sorry. She couldn’t stand it.

  ‘Get out.’ Her voice, barely audible, drifted into the darkness of the bedroom. ‘Go. Get out.’

  ‘Flora?’

  Pushing him from the bed, Flora sat up and turned her back to him. ‘Please.’

  Nothing could change what he had done but it was possible to change to future.

  Chapter 19

  For three lunchtimes, Flora watched Luke from the window of her classroom, while he did duty on the oval and at the courts. He was oblivious; at least she thought he was. Every now and again, his head would turn in the direction of her window and his russet eyes would cloud over. It was only coincidence, she decided. He couldn’t sense her watching.

 
Ducking under the sill as she saw him swing her way again, Flora considered this childish behaviour she had adopted. It was very high school, she knew, but it was the only way she could put things into perspective when she had nobody else to share with. And everyone knew how she liked to see things clearly. Besides, if she stared at him for long enough, she was bound to find some other flaw to add to his portfolio to add of being a no-good, dirty, stinking cheater and not her type at all. She prayed that would turn her right off.

  ‘Miss Owens, Mummy told me to give you this, I forgot…..’ Olivia Jenkins was standing at her side bearing a note in a floral, scented envelope and looking repentant at being so forgetful. Her little lip was trembling with nerves.

  ‘Put it on my desk, darling,’ Flora replied, glancing perfunctorily at the child who stood waiting for further instruction. ‘Hop on out to play, now. I’ll read it later,’ she added, not wanting to upset her but eager for her to leave. Olivia was a quiet child, but there was something about her that reminded Flora of a younger version of herself – she was never one to step out of line. She craved acceptance. Watching Olivia retreat, Flora vowed to give her a nice smile when she came to class after lunch. There was nothing more she could do about the child’s sensitivities today. She had no compassion to spare.

  Returning to her scrutiny, she noticed Luke had wandered behind the large gum tree that flanked the adventure playground and stooped to talk to one of her class. It had taken all week but, at last, Flora felt she had begun to make sense of the myriad of feelings that were overwhelming her. Compromised, that was how she felt. And angry. But most of all, she was hurt by what she considered a betrayal. She didn’t like the lump of desolation it left in her throat, the crunching pain in the pit of her stomach. It reminded her of a broken past she would rather forget.

  In the playground, Luke was tying a tiny shoelace. He smiled up into the recipient’s face and though it bore no relationship to her situation at all, Flora was engulfed by sadness. Luke could never look into her eyes and smile that way, never again. He belonged to someone else. Even if he dropped to his knees and declared his undying devotion, she could never take him back. The affair, short lived as it had been, was over.

  Wrapping her arms around her body as if trying to protect herself from him, she continued to watch. Luke had ventured to the slide, now, and was standing behind it, staring straight in her window. His sad gaze was fixed on her face. She could feel the tears welling behind her eyes again and she pressed her lashes together willing them away. Why had this happened? What had she done? With one last glance at his beautiful face, she wiped the tear with the back of her hand and turned away. Bugger it, she thought with a resigned sniff. Dumping him had provided no closure at all and torturing herself over her part in his infidelity, would give even less. It was about as useful as staring at him out the window. It would accomplish nothing. Annoyed at herself, she set about tidying her desk, stacking the children’s work into piles of marked and unmarked.

  ‘Are you alright, Flora?’

  James was standing behind her, a tissue box in his hand. He held it out but she waved him away. Where had he appeared from and how long had he been standing there? The last thing she needed was for him to be spying on her spying on Luke. He would spread it around that she had a crush on him or something.

  ‘James?’ The intonation in her voice rose at the end, questioning his mysterious appearance in her room. Ever since the odd incident in the library she had felt wary of his friendship.

  ‘Oh,’ he smiled, trying to cover the fact that he, too, had been looking out the window to see what had made her so melancholy, ‘I was looking for you…. You seemed upset in the staffroom.’ His voice trailed away.

  Flora regarded him suspiciously. As if she was going to reveal anything to him when he kept following her everywhere. She didn’t need some sensitive new age guy giving her advice. In fact, his behaviour added to the conviction that he was as weird as PJ had warned.

  ‘I’m fine, James,’ she said, ignoring the tissue box and walking to the storage cupboard where she took a hankie and some eye drops from her satchel. ‘I think I scratched my eyeball, that’s all.’ God, what did he want? He was being quite creepy.

  She bent her head back and squeezed two drops of Refresh into each eye, dabbing them with her hankie. When she put her head down she noticed he was still there, standing by the window. ‘Thanks for the concern, James. Did you want something else?’ She realised she sounded like PJ – offhanded, dismissive – but she couldn’t care less. The new Flora was nobody’s doormat. Right?

  ‘Um, yes well I wanted to know…… I was wondering if…..’ James was lost for words. His face pleaded for her to give him something, anything. Flora couldn’t. She was devoid.

  Ignoring him, Flora pulled her mobile from her pocket where it had been vibrating incessantly. Walking back to the window she flipped it open, three new messages announced themselves on the screen. ‘Excuse me, James,’ she said, moving to her desk. Hoping he would get the hint.

  Please talk to me. I need to explain.

  Without bothering to open the next two, Flora slammed the screen shut and shoved the phone back into her pocket. Sourly, she stared out the window. There was no way. Hell could freeze over.

  ‘You were saying?’ she asked, seeing James still there.

  Her phone buzzed again. She ignored it.

  ‘You should answer that, it’s must be urgent.’

  Flora looked at him. Then, the lunch bell shrilled from the PA.

  ‘Oh there’s the bell…..’ she remarked and rushing to the door on the pretext of not being late to line up, she left him high and dry with the tissue box still in his hand.

  ****

  At three thirty that afternoon, Flora, cup of herbal tea in hand, pulled up a teeny tiny chair to the bank of computers in her classroom. Placing her mug well away from the computer - she was very particular about drinks and electrical appliances - she logged on and went to the staff site to access her email. She preferred to check it twice daily. You never knew what could be waiting. Miriam was an email addict and any number of trivial emails, could have been sent. By morning they would have multiplied and divided numerous times until Flora just wanted to press delete on the lot without even opening them. But she couldn’t. And so, spending five minutes now, meant ten minutes less later on. Literally.

  Waiting for Outlook Express to open, Flora took a sip of her tea and glanced over Brooke’s literacy work from the morning. Utter crap as usual. The boy was not only lacking in brain mass but failed to use what he did have. What was she going to do with him? Nothing seemed to work and in her current frame of mind she was almost beyond caring. Not quite, but almost. She was a teacher, after all. It was her job to nurture the talents of her students.

  A movement on the screen alerted her that the page was ready to be viewed and, so, pushing Brooke’s work aside she scanned the list of new emails. There was one from Luke. Oh God.

  Suddenly, her hand was shaking so much she couldn’t even click the mouse. Her breathing rasped against her ribcage and she could feel the wetness of certain tears stinging her eyes. Bugger it. Why did he have to have this effect on her?

  Taking a deep breath, she clicked on the envelope and the message sprang to life before her. She didn’t know what she was worried about; it would be an update on the Year Seven boy who had cancer or some such. Luke had said he was going to send and information to them as soon as he had it. Flora began to read and once again her heart leapt into her throat. This was no ordinary email. It was an apology letter.

  Dearest Flora, it began,

  I saw you watching me out the window and I know that you’re thinking of me as much as I am of you but it appears that you’re of a mind not to speak to me, which I understand. So, I am reaching out to you the only way I know how.

  Please don’t shut me out, Flora. Please don’t think me a monster for deceiving you. I do care, more than you could possibly imagine and this is
as hard for me as it is for you. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance to explain rationally and without anger. I know I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry but please give me one chance. If you hear my side and still feel the same, I shall have no choice but to respect your wishes and leave you be. But it won’t be easy. I’ll only do it because I love you and I don’t want you to hurt any more.

  Let me know when you’re ready.

  Luke

  Flora sat stunned, staring at the screen. One chance. That was all he wanted. But did he deserve it?

  ****

  Two more torturous days passed and still Flora, the decisive one, had come to no conclusion about her dilemma. The sensible Flora, who resided inside her head, wanted no part of anything Luke had to say, especially when she wasn’t sure she could trust him anymore but the new Flora, the go-get-‘em Flora, was determined. This Flora was urging her to give Luke a second chance and she posed such a convincing argument that Flora found herself at a stalemate. That was when fate stepped in.

  She was in reception late one afternoon, finishing up with a phone call to a parent, when she sensed a presence behind her. Out the corner of her eye she noted Luke, standing at her shoulder and without even realising her knees began to knock rather unceremoniously from under the safety of the desk. Luke’s face was solemn yet, still, sexy. Oh God. This wasn’t helping her cause at all. Flustered, Flora peeled a post-it note from the pad and began to fiddle with it. It was so easy to make decisions when he wasn’t in arms length but this was a whole different scenario. She needed time to compose herself, she wasn’t ready.

  Taking a deep breath but not looking up for fear she would give in to his whims as soon as she looked into the depths of those searching eyes, Flora spoke. ‘I got your messages, Luke, and your email,’ she said, ‘And, well, I don’t want to talk about it.’

  There. Take that, Mr Two Timer. Standing up and bending front ways over the reception bench, Flora looked from side to side, checking that they were alone. Some people had a strange habit of lurking in unwanted places. ‘You’re engaged. End of story.’

 

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