Free Falling

by Ana Simons

  I stretch back with hands clasped behind my head, feeling the last rays of sun permeate the skin and warm up my face, the anxiety easing at last.

  It’s all quiet now. There were a few endlessly amused kids swaying to and fro on the swings, but they’re gone now. It’s just the two of us and the sound of the leaves in the trees rustling a little.

  “How’s the ice-cream?”

  He glances up at me, his freckled face smudged with vanilla and chocolate. “It’s not contagious, is it?”

  “What? That sticky mess on your face? Hope not.” I hand him a tissue.

  He cleans his mouth clumsily and then puts on his thinking face. “What do you think your life will be like when you die?”

  I’m taken aback for a moment, not really knowing how to explain the impossibility beyond the question. How do you even approach that inescapable part of life at all with a seven-year-old kid?

  “You’ve already heard about Arthur, haven’t you?”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “As far back as I can remember. Did you know he was the one who taught us, Uncle Jimmy and I, how to ride a four-wheel bike? We were fourteen or fifteen. That was one hell of a summer! I’ll teach you too, someday.”

  “Mum says he went to heaven, that everything in heaven is beautiful and perfect.” He pauses with his tongue hanging out, ice-cream dripping onto it. “If it’s such a great place, why was she crying on the phone?”

  “Because it’s always sad when we have to say goodbye to people we care about.”

  “But is it contagious or not?”

  “No! Where did you get that from? Arthur has been very ill for a while now and his heart was too tired and weak to continue to–”

  “Oh good, what a relief!” His shoulders sag, on his face a totally deadpan expression. “Because we went to see him last week and I still have a lot to do before I can go to heaven. Like finish school. Maybe get a girlfriend. You’re also going to die one day, aren’t you?”

  “Nothing in life is certain except death and taxes, a wise man once said.”

  He stops licking and crinkles his nose, staring at me with a funny, puzzled expression. “I don’t understand.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “It’s okay. It’s complicated, even for adults. But you should know no one ever really dies. They’ll keep on living in our hearts.”

  Josh’s confused expression intensifies. “In our hearts? Wasn’t it in heaven? Where’s heaven anyway?”

  Why do such euphemisms always seem so hard to explain?

  A quick check to my watch confirms I have one hour before the flight is due to take off. “Come, we’d better get going or I’ll miss that plane.”

  He holds my hand as we walk back to the car park. “Ben says they stuck his grandmother inside a coffin until Jesus picked her up.”

  “Yes, some people do that.”

  “And then they planted her.”

  I let out a chuckle. Josh is one of the most thoughtful kids I know. His random connections, quite often little excursions into the absurd, are sometimes as funny as completely and totally insane.

  “Are they going to plant Arthur too? I mean, why would they even put people in the ground? It’s filled with bugs and yucky stuff. Unless they’re going to grow into something. Are they? Why doesn’t Jesus come down right away?”

  “Jesus comes to pick up your soul, not your body.”

  “And why do they put a stone on the top? Ben says is to keep them down there, but where would they go anyway?” He tilts his head and frowns at me, clearly confused. “What’s the soul?”

  Oh boy. I suck in a big breath and look up at the oak trees, secretly hoping for some help on this. Quite frankly, I find it confusing too. “Well, your soul... some people believe there’s a part of us that...” I struggle to find words. “It’s sort of an invisible part that exists within us, something that–”

  “Hey, it’d be really cool if you could bring me an Arsenal jersey!” He shakes my hand, a cute smug smile peeking from the corners of his mouth.

  “Hmm. Not sure I can find those over there. Maybe I can get you something from the New York Knicks instead.” I turn Josh’s cap backwards. “A cap maybe?”

  Eyebrows raised, he gives me a thumbs-up sign. “Have I told you Mattie farts a lot? Emma says those are burps coming out of her tiny butt? What’s your view on that?”

  “Huh...” Right now I don’t have an answer. I think my brain is hurting.

  “This was fun. Can we come back next week again? And try the Smurf ice-cream? Can we bring Emma along? You’ll be back next week, won’t you?”

  “I will. I’ll be back on Friday. How about I pick you up from school? And you stay overnight?”

  Jumping with excitement, Josh high-fives me before he slides into the backseat and slams the door shut, on his face a beaming smile I can’t get enough of. On the outside, the reflection in the car window is one of a guy who’s smiling too, genuinely wishing there were more moments like this.

  *

  “You sure you don’t want to come in?” Josh’s lips set into a little pout.

  I check my watch again. We’re on the pavement, right in front of my sister’s front garden. “Sorry, mate. Really need to go.”

  “But aren’t you saying goodbye to Mum?”

  “I have already. Now go. I’ll wait here till you get inside and wave you all goodbye.”

  “All right then.” He grabs my sleeve and pulls me down, to give me a kiss and whisper in my ear, “Don’t forget my cap. And our guys’ night.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” I ruffle his hair before he runs to the front door, where Sue is already waiting with Mathilda on her hip.

  Standing at the living room window, with her nose pressed against the glass making funny faces, I find Emma, giggling and waving. I wave back.

  Shaking my head amused at the whole scene, I walk to the car and open the door, casting one last glance at them all. For a moment my eyes rest on Emma again, who’s blowing me kisses from the palms of her tiny hands. So cute.

  But then I freeze, the unexpected glimpse of a silhouette behind the drifting gauzy curtains making my heart thump so hard in my chest. Of a woman rocking Marianne in her arms.

  A woman I used to know a long time ago. A very long time ago...

  3 Business or pleasure?

  “Hello? Anyone there?”

  No, apparently not.

  Odd.

  I wanted to tell Josh I found the jersey he asked for, here, in one of the airport’s duty-free stores, but there’s only silence on the other end of the line.

  Should I try again?

  No, forget about it.

  But after the shit I pulled earlier today, I’m certain it’d put a huge smile on his face.

  Sure. If that was the real reason why you’re calling. But it’s not. You want to ask him who was inside—but we already know that, don’t we?

  It’s been a while since we don’t talk, a decade maybe, but I do know it was her. Ten years or not, I’d recognise her in a heartbeat.

  And now it’s eating at you. Not knowing whether you’ll be back in time to see more than a fragment in the distance…

  Olivia Burke. Once the light of my life, the most amazing girl I’d ever met. Also, the girl who gave me up so easily, who hurt me like no one else ever has.

  Don’t be an idiot, and turn off the bloody phone!

  Which I do, and then tuck in my jacket pocket. Why am I even losing my time thinking about this?

  “Oh dear. He’s going to break the damn thing and we’ll be stuck in here for God-knows-how-long till they fix it,” the passenger sitting next to me mutters under her breath. “What a creep!” With an annoyed huff, she lets her head fall back against the seat headrest.

  Two rows behind us, a bulky bloke in an expensive suit is forcing his carry-on into the overhead, which quite obviously will never fit in there. One of the flight attendants is trying to reason with h
im but it looks like a nasty argument is about to break out.

  “They should throw them both into the aircraft hold. The bag and the idiot who owns it,” she adds dryly.

  I’m tempted to agree, but for once I don’t feel like making small talk with anyone. I do cast a sideways glance, though, and observe her for a moment.

  Her closed eyes are highlighted with long lashes and a generous amount of makeup. Smooth, brown skin and perfect oval face, framed by thick brown hair. Full sensuous lips, glistening with a nude gloss.

  I hear her take another deep breath, and I smile to myself. What are the odds, the woman I’m going to share an armrest with for the next eight hours is actually a beautiful, attractive woman?

  Preferring to enjoy my solitude, I put on my earbuds, the universal sign you’re in a no-talking mood. Mary’s antics and yesterday’s monumental slip, letting Josh down like that, my sister’s words this morning rumbling in my head—it’s all nagging at me, consuming me from the inside out. The only thing I want is to slam my seat back and shut down. A few hours of uninterrupted sleep, without phone calls or meetings, project descriptions or architectural plans. Or time to think about how messed up my life is...

  *

  “Dear passengers, this is your captain speaking. We have now reached our cruising altitude. Please feel free to move around the aircraft…”

  “But please stay inside until we land. Because it’s a bit chilly outside.” The words come with a gentle tap on my arm.

  I give my seat neighbour a polite social smile before I close my eyes and go back to being mad at the world.

  “Excuse me. May I?” She gestures to the lavatory.

  “Oh. Yes, of course.” I unbuckle and step into the aisle to let her past, making use of the opportunity to get my iPad out of the overhead bin. And to watch the sway of her hips as she heads down to the toilet, her tall, elegant figure, the dark skinny jeans that hug every curve of her long, shapely legs.

  Taking the moment to stretch my legs, I lean against the side of the seat and turn the device on while waiting for her to return.

  Two minutes later she’s back, an easy smile playing on her lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I follow the contour of her chin, the delicate neckline, her shoulders… until I force myself not to look any further down.

  What do we have here? A free spirit?

  No, there’s no bra under the loose-fitting top, only nipples poking through and all kinds of images rushing into my head. Despite my sour mood, I grin inwardly at her laidback, confident attitude.

  Go au naturel. Why not?

  “Thank you.” Big brown eyes meet mine, and she leans forward a little, lingering at my chest for an instant before slipping back into the middle seat, the sweet, spicy scent of her perfume staying behind with me.

  “You’re welcome.” I give her a curt nod.

  “What?” She asks out of nowhere moments later, peeking at the iPad screen.

  “Didn’t say anything.”

  “Are those your kids?”

  On the background image, a picture of Josh and Emma making silly faces.

  “Nephew and niece.” I swipe at the screen to unlock it, not elaborating any further.

  “Is it business or pleasure?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Are you travelling for work?”

  “Yes.” I turn the iPad toward her, on the screen some calculations on a spreadsheet. With any luck, she gets the hint I’m not up for self-serving friends, on-flight flirting or whatever she has in mind, and pops some sleeping pill, saving us both from more awkward silences.

  “Me too. Covering a fashion event. Photographer. How well do you know the city?”

  “Not that well, I’m afraid.” I lie. After four years studying at NYIT, I know it like the back of my hand.

  “Oh, I just love New York! You can actually travel the world without leaving Brooklyn, how amazing is that? It has this special vibe you don’t find anywhere else. And do you know where the best pizza in the world is? In Old Fulton Street. Best Beer? East Village,” she goes on, brimming with enthusiasm, gesturing her hands dramatically to emphasise her views. “And let’s not forget, Spider-Man and Jay-Z live in New York. So basically, before you can say ‘Bob’s your uncle’ you’re already hooked on it, trust me!”

  Hey, when we land, would you be up for a threesome? I almost ask her —usually there’s no quicker way to get walked out on—but in the end, I restrain myself. She does have a cute smile and a sparkle in her eyes I find both intriguing and entertaining.

  “What’s your name again?”

  “Josephine. Friends call me Jo.” She reaches out and clasps my hand in a firm handshake, her brown, curious eyes penetrating mine.

  “Brian. It’s an absolute pleasure.”

  I wake up at 2 a.m. to adjust my pillow. The armrest is up and Josephine is leaning up against me, her head on my shoulder. Smiling to myself, I set her straight and adjust the blanket around her neck.

  She’s an interesting girl indeed. She can babble profusely about anything for hours, but still be funny. She seems smart and exudes such positive energy. Or just plain craziness, hard to tell.

  Anyway, the brown-eyed beauty here has already asked me if I was up for a drink one of these nights, but I gave myself a severe mental shake and said no. Back in London, maybe.

  Sure, I probably hold the distinction of being the only stupid bloke who’d refuse such a generous offer, but I honestly prefer to sit alone with a bottle of red than see my career go up in flames as well.

  4 Comforting lies

  One month later…

  Naked, she slips out of bed in the dark and strides towards the glass wall. Looking out in silence at the New York skyline, the reflection of her beautiful, perfectly shaped body is framed by a million specks of light coming from the surrounding office towers. The image is breath-taking.

  From among clothes scattered on the floor, I pick up her scarf and follow, circle her from behind and hold her tight against my chest, a familiar floral scent clinging to my nostrils, carrying me away.

  ‘I want you,’ I whisper against her face, one hand gliding along the curve of her waist, grazing the sides of her breasts.

  Heated eyes land on the reflected figures as black silk traces a line down her neck, over the collarbone. A caress over the hardened nipples and she leans her head back, gasping at the sensations, breathing out my name in a fading murmur. It makes me feel feverish.

  I cover her eyes with the soft fabric and tie it gently, taking only a moment to stare at us, at her body gathered into my arms, my skin pressed against her skin. At her chest, rising and falling in an uneven cadence. At the parted lips, demanding to be captured.

  She moves to turn, but I hold her in place. “Don’t!”

  Her breathing deepens in anticipation as my hand slides down her neck and serpentines around her full breasts, down her stomach, her inner thighs. Which I spread gently, cautious fingers delving into moist flesh, each steady movement making her body squirm against me.

  “Brian. I want you…” she trails off into a murmur.

  “To continue?” I search for an answer in the mirrored surface.

  She’s biting her lower lip, the arm looped around my neck pulling me closer, her whole body falling apart with pleasure.

  “Say it.” I intensify the rhythm of my touch.

  She arches her back and another whimper escapes her lips, sending a violent shiver through my body. I feel maddened, unable to contain the wave of craving rising inside me.

  Turning her, I pin her against the cold wall and kiss her. A dark, possessive kiss. Relentless fury combined with unyielding passion.

  I take only a second to come up for air, both of us breathing heavily, before my mouth plunges into hers again, for another hungry kiss, our tongues intertwining in a frenetic, desperate motion.

  “Tell me that you’re mine,” I breathe into her mouth before my teeth nip her lower lip not so gently.

  She smothe
rs a cry, pleasure and pain mixing as one. Another swift movement and I have her facing the city again, hands splayed against the glass, the flicker of the city lights pouring into the darkness inside and reflecting on her skin.

  “I’m yours.” Her breath comes in fevered gasps, every stroke of my hand fondling her breasts and running down her back making her quiver.

  “Spread your legs for me,” I whisper against her temple, the tone raw and commanding, my hand on her nape lowering her gently down.

  She does as I say. Claiming her as mine, only mine, I thrust into her. A single and long thrust. Firm and deep, steady hands holding her waist, the feel of skin slipping on skin and walls pulsing around me absolutely intoxicating.

  “Tell me you’re mine again.”

  “I am…” Her breathing is coming in shallow, ragged pants, each ever more determined movement pushing her higher and closer...

  …until a hard shudder racks my body and I push up her against my chest. “So why did you leave me?” In a blaze of anger, I yank the blindfold from her face and spin her around. “Tell me, Olivia! Why did you leave me like that?” I demand, gripping her upper arms with both hands, shaking her.

  The same deep green eyes that have haunted my sleep other times before stare back at me, scared, and I wake up frantic, in a cold sweat, my heart beating so fast it feels it might just burst.

  Jeez! What in the bloody hell was that?

  Seven in the morning, I check on my phone with half-closed, heavy eyes, and sit upright for a few moments, forcing my breathing to calm down.

  “Is it time already?” A sleepy, rough female voice comes from under the messy sheets and I need do a brief resetting exercise to figure out how she ended up here.

  “No, Jo. All good, go back to sleep.”

  Rolling over, she hums something I don’t even bother to understand and snuggles back down into the bed.

  Struggling against the drowsiness, I pad into the bathroom. My mouth is dry, I need something to drink.

  After a few swallows straight from the faucet and several splashes of cold water on my face, I scowl at myself in the mirror.