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by Rachel Harley


  Not that I’ll ever forget the pain and loneliness of my formative years. I couldn’t possibly. As a result, I’m as passionate as Justin is in The Guardian. There’s something about being a desperate street kid, without anything good and decent, or anyone who gives a crap about you armour you for life. I’m afraid of no-one.

  I had nothing in the world to lose, the night that Ellen and I went on our suicidal rescue mission. I walked willingly into that dilapidated house, not giving a toss if I ultimately died in there. I’d never had anything or anyone in my whole miserable life. Death actually seemed like an easy way out. But there was plenty to live for – I just hadn’t found it yet.

  I finally turn the shower to warm, my puckered skin seeming to sigh in relief at the gentle heat and I grab the shower gel, scrubbing my soapy hands over my body, washing away the desire soaked sweat that’s dried on me. For the first time this morning, Carter’s face slams into my mind.

  I replay his kisses outside the front of the house, his long hard body pushing me into the wall by the front door, his breath harsh in my mouth, his lips making every cell in my body throb.

  I can’t start thinking about that now. He’s gone for the next two days and I need to get my shit together. Justin and Ellen are downstairs, probably pacing around now like worried parents, wanting to know what happened last night. I can’t go and talk to them with my head full of Carter Jackson, but as I wash myself absentmindedly, I realise that I haven’t a prayer of keeping it from Ellen. She’ll see it in my eyes immediately. I know they’re sparkling with something brand new without even looking in the mirror.

  I dry myself quickly, peering at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes feverish. Dressing quickly in shorts and a tee-shirt, I drag my damp hair back into a messy bun, swiping my iPhone from my bedside cabinet. I read the text again that Carter sent last night and I grin at my phone. He’s right, it was incredible and I can’t wait until Monday, either.

  I perch on the side of the bed for a moment. Thinking about his kisses has me thinking further ahead, of what might happen the next time we’re alone. I’m terrified for a split second that I’m still a virgin. I don’t know how old Carter is, but he’s older than me, I could tell that immediately. He’s not in his teens, there’s a maturity about him, a quiet grace that only comes with getting older. What if I tell him that I’m a virgin and he’s horrified?

  I can’t think like that. For all I know, the discussion might never come up. He might land in Dorset, shake his head and chalk last night up to a bit of fun. He might never get in touch again. A few lone, sensible cells in my brain celebrate at the thought – reminding me that this would keep me safe, protect my heart, but I’m wringing with despair at the prospect.

  For God’s sake… put him out of your mind for a while, do something to occupy yourself, starting with going to see Justin and Ellen, you fool.

  I trot down the stairs, my head still pounding. I walk into the kitchen, but the vast space is empty, the side opening patio doors open fully and as I walk towards the sun-splashed garden, I hear Jared shrieking with laughter.

  I step out onto the lawn to see him running from Justin, his stumpy little legs going way too fast to keep him upright, looking over his shoulder at his dad in delight. He trips over his own feet and down he goes, still giggling and Justin reaches him, dropping to his knees and rolling him over and over on the grass.

  Ellen gets up from the sun-lounger she’s lying on when she sees me and she strolls towards me, grinning.

  ‘My God! It has arisen! How much did you have to drink?’

  I groan. ‘Please don’t even say the word alcohol, I was drinking wine and I feel like utter shit,’ I whine pathetically, flopping onto a chair near the picnic table and putting my head in my hands. Justin gets to his feet as Jared rolls onto his tummy, pulling the heads off emerging daisies. He strolls towards me grinning and I give him a pained look.

  ‘Have you got any paracetamol? I’ve got a stonker of a headache!’

  Justin pouts, his full lower lip sticking out childishly. ‘Oh dear. Getting drunk’s fun Pearl, but don’t ever underestimate the pain of a hangover! Come on, there’s some in the first aid kit.’

  I follow him into the kitchen, Ellen swiping Jared from the grass and blowing raspberries into his chubby neck as she follows us. She deposits him in a large mesh playpen at the far side of the kitchen and he crows, grabbing coloured plastic balls and throwing them over the side.

  ‘How would you know what a hangover feels like, Walker?’ Ellen asks playfully. ‘You’ve never even had a drink, let alone suffered the next day!’

  Justin reaches a cupboard and opens the first aid box, chucking a packet of paracetamol at me. He grins at his wife now, pulling a highball glass down from a cupboard, filling it with cold orange juice.

  ‘Baby, I only have to look at Diane after a night out. If I ever needed another reason not to drink, it’s imagining what she must feel like when she’s downed half a bottle of brandy!’

  He wanders over to me, placing the chilly glass in my hand and I smile my thanks. I’ve already popped two painkillers from a strip and I throw them to the back of my mouth, swallowing them with a large mouthful of orange juice. Jared’s babbling away happily to himself as Justin and Ellen take a stool each at the breakfast bar on either side of me and they give me identical grins.

  ‘So. Did you have a good time?’ Justin asks and despite my plans to play it cool, I can’t help the stupid smile that splatters itself all over my face as I think about last night. I try to wipe it off, but I can’t and it’s too late. Ellen cocks her head at me and I see something ignite in her eyes as she seems to really look at me for the first time. I’m a very different Pearl Harrison to the one that left here last night, from the Pearl she’s known for the last two years. I feel different and I know that I must look it, too.

  There’s a bloated beat of silence and then she says, ‘Well?’

  I drain my orange juice, trying for nonchalant. Despite my headache, I’m in a playful mood. I’m in a wonderful mood, in fact, I’m still bloody buzzing from last night and every time I close my eyes, I can see him.

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘Sod off, Pearl!’ she snorts. ‘You’re glowing like a flaming Christmas tree. What’s his name?’

  Jesus, I’m so transparent and my cheeks heat as I meet Justin’s bright eyes. He’s saying nothing, but there’s a trace of something there hidden deep in the cerulean, wariness maybe? I shouldn’t be surprised. Justin’s nothing if not protective.

  I grin at Ellen now. ‘His name’s Carter Jackson,’ I start, but then stop suddenly as I realise that there’s actually nothing else to tell them. I don’t even know his age or what he does for a living. It’s pretty poor, but then I remember that all that either of us were concerned about last night was devouring each other, we were nearly out of control at one point and talking was an unnecessary distraction that neither of us wanted or needed. We said plenty with our lips connected, who needed words?

  Justin and Ellen both sit with their eyebrows raised, but when they can see that’s all I’ve got to tell them, Ellen smiles. If there’s one person on the planet who understands what I felt last night, what I’m still feeling, it’s her. I make a mental note to get her on her own and talk to her. I know so much about her relationship with Justin, she’s been blunt and honest to the point of almost embarrassment about their connection, their ties, their love, their desire… at the very least I need to tell Ellen what happened to me last night, how Carter made me feel, how the touch of his lips ignited a fire inside me that I can never quench.

  ‘Are you seeing him again?’ Justin asks now, turning and mock scowling at his son, when a red plastic ball hits him on the back of the head, Jared screaming with laughter. I nod, toying with the empty glass, swirling the half melted ice cubes around.

  ‘Yes, on Monday night. He’s had to go to Dorset for a couple of days, some family stuff,’ I tell them.

 
; ‘I’ll look forward to meeting him,’ Ellen says. ‘What does he look like?’

  Oh God…

  Just her words have inflamed my blood and I clear my throat.

  ‘Um, he’s Jus’s height, curly hair, green eyes.’ I try to leave it at that, not wanting to tell them both just how incredibly hot Carter Jackson is, but Ellen’s a sod for details and I know she’s revelling in this. Whoever this man is, she can see from my body language, my feverish eyes and flushed skin that he’s seriously affected me.

  ‘I’ve never seen a man as beautiful,’ I offer quietly and Ellen’s pupils dilate.

  ‘Really? Well well! Looks like you’ve finally got some competition, Walker!’

  Justin snorts. ‘Baby, there are plenty of guys out there who are far, far better looking than me!’ he exclaims with a smile, getting up to start collecting the coloured plastic balls that Jared’s been chucking everywhere. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  ‘He’s as stunning as you, Justin, but in a different way,’ I say glibly and then my eyes widen as I realise what I’ve just said out loud. What the fucking hell is wrong with me? I’m not firing on all cylinders this morning at all, I don’t know whether it’s the rotten hangover or my Carter scrambled brain, but all I appear to be capable of is spouting shit. Ellen’s laughing at my words, Justin rolling his eyes.

  I wince at them both. ‘Sorry,’ I say. Justin comes over and pulls me into a quick hug, kissing the top of my still aching head.

  ‘Flatterer,’ he murmurs, ruffling my hair as he pauses to kiss Ellen before disappearing into the utility.

  ‘What time is it?’ I ask Ellen and she glances at her watch.

  ‘Nearly one o’clock,’ she tells me and I wrinkle my face in disgust. Jesus, what a waste of a day. Although I enjoyed myself last night, feeling this rubbish and sleeping all morning wasn’t worth the buoyancy I felt from the wine. The majority of my endorphin high came from Carter, anyway, not the alcohol. I slide from the stool, I need to do something, get my arse in gear, but now that Justin’s disappeared, Ellen clearly wants more details on last night.

  ‘So, what happened?’

  ‘I spilled two glasses of white wine down his shirt,’ I say, wincing and rolling my eyes. ‘It all kind of went from there.’

  Despite Ellen protesting that Holly is the tenacious one of the family, she’s not doing badly herself, here.

  ‘Stop being coy! Did he kiss you?’

  ‘Oh God, yeah,’ I mutter thickly and her face beams. ‘Did he ever. He had to hold me up after five minutes, Jesus, Ellen...’ I break off, my mind not able to put into words how Carter made me feel with his sensual mouth. The explanation would be wasted on the woman in front of me, anyway.

  You realise what it is you’re admitting to here? That you’ve fallen in love with him?

  No. I haven’t – not yet, but I’m falling. Falling in something, I have no idea what but I’m alive with strange, sweet emotions and feelings. Ellen looks at me wistfully now.

  ‘Oh Pearl… looking at you is like looking at myself three years ago, love. It’s written all over you.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ I say pleadingly. ‘I can’t fall in love with him, El, he’s way out of my league. I get the impression his family are wealthy, although he hasn’t said and his looks…’ I shake my head. ‘I wasn’t lying, his looks really do rival Justin’s.’

  Ellen gazes at me thoughtfully. ‘Why are you looking at this negatively? Pearl, you’ve only just met him, give the man a chance? You don’t even know each other yet, but there’s clearly a powerful attraction there, trust me, I know exactly what you’re feeling.’ She slides off her stool, coming over to me now and stroking my shoulder.

  ‘Just take it one day at a time, see what develops? Just because he’s hot and has a wealthy family doesn’t mean that he’s going to shit on you. There are some fantastic guys on this earth, Pearl – you only have to look at Justin to realise that! Fair enough, they might be in the minority, but they are out there!’

  I grin back at her now, relieved to hear the words. I don’t want to write this off before it’s had a chance to spread its wings. I tried that last night, by leaning away from him, but he captured me anyway in his silken net and now I’m a helpless fly in a web, waiting for the beautiful spider to make its move.

  I kiss Ellen’s cheek. ‘I can’t wait for you to meet him, I’ll see if I can bring him back from the yard on Monday night, just to say hello.’ I’m blushing again, I have no idea why. I want them to accept him from the start. I can’t imagine how I’d cope in a scenario whereby the Walker’s hated him. I’d have to choose and the very thought makes me feel sick to my stomach.

  There’s suddenly the sound of an enormous wet fart and Jared lets out a pitiful wail as he follows through and fills his nappy. Ellen rolls her eyes as I get up from my own stool.

  ‘I’m going down to Nelson,’ I tell her, grinning again at the prospects of seeing my wonderful new horse, even if I am a little under par today. Ellen picks up a still sobbing Jared, who buries his face in her neck as soon as he’s in her arms.

  ‘Good going – enjoy! Going to sort His Majesty out – I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’m cooking, if you fancy it, rack of lamb?’

  ‘Thanks, sounds wonderful,’ I say appreciatively and she flashes me a smile as she heads out of the kitchen, Jared’s wails becoming fainter as she makes her way up the stairs. I help myself to another glass of orange, the painkillers now thankfully starting to ease the grinding throb in my skull and I head back up to my apartment to change into jods and a short sleeved shirt. I roughly dry my hair off and pull it into a messy tail at the back of my neck, shrugging on a light fleece and collecting my phone and keys.

  As I’m about to leave, I remember Carter’s text from last night. I chew my lip, sinking into the armchair by the side of the lounge door. I need to reply to him. I don’t want him to think that I’m not interested suddenly, and if I’d sent him a text last night and had no reply by now, I’d be getting anxious.

  I bring up the message and look at it.

  Tonight was incredible. I can’t wait to see you on Monday. Carter. X

  I tap the screen to bring up the keypad and chew my lip. He’s bold in the message, quite revealing of what’s in his head, which is surprising, but pleasing. Last night was incredible and I’m gleeful that he thought it so. I can’t wait to see him, either and I pang with regret that I’ve got over twenty four hours to go until it happens. Almost on autopilot and not really thinking, I tap out the message.

  It’s a real shame that you’re out of the area, you’re all I can think about. xx

  I press send before I can change my mind, but terror grips me suddenly when the word ‘Delivered’ changes to ‘Read 13:23 and my breath catches in my throat. What the hell was I thinking, sending that? I know that his own text was quite bald in displaying his feelings, but seriously? I’m so inexperienced at this and, clearly, shit at it. I may as well just give him a green light to break my heart at this rate.

  My gut twitches when I see the row of pulsing dots appear as a reply is being typed and I chew my lip as I look at my phone. There’s a whoop and then suddenly it’s in front of me.

  Is that a fact? Can I ask you a personal question?

  I gulp. What sort of a personal question, how personal? I hardly know the man, in fact I don’t know him at all. I wish I hadn’t bloody started this. Why didn’t I just send him a text, saying that last night was a lot of fun and I looked forward to seeing him soon? Instead, I’ve blurted out romantic shit that’s wholly inappropriate, given that we only met last night.

  I’ve not answered him, too busy chewing over things frantically in my mind, my foot jiggling in agitation. He’s obviously becoming concerned at the lack of response, as my phone whoops again and there’s another text in front of me.

  It’s fine if not, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. X

  I shake myself, tapping away at the screen. He c
an ask anything he likes, whether I’ll answer it or not is another matter, but I won’t know what it is until I give him the go ahead to ask.

  No, it’s fine – sorry. Ask away!

  I add a smiley faced emoji, having to stop myself sending the one blowing kisses and I see him read the text immediately. Dots are pulsing as he replies, but it’s taking him forever and they keep disappearing. He’s changing his mind, deleting, typing and deleting again by the looks of him. Finally, it appears.

  Do you want me?

  My mouth falls open. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? For a start, what sane woman with working eyes wouldn’t want him? But want him in what context? Do I want him to show me a good time? Take my virginity and fuck me into oblivion? Fall in love with me? Jesus, I have no idea what he means here, but despite that, no matter in what sense he’s asked the question, there really is only one answer to give him.

  You know I do.

  I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s madness, but if I’d told him that I didn’t want him, I’d be lying. I do want him. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. If all I could ever do was sit and hold his hand, that’d do for me. I just want to be near him, I’m aching without him and this text banter when he’s not here is doing me no favours whatsoever.

  I’m alone with my thoughts, not even concentrating on my phone, but I’m dragged away from them as it whoops in my hand again and he’s replied. My eyes slide shut, a mixture of desire and helplessness when I read it.

  Then you’ve got me. See you soon. X

  I’ve got him. What the hell does that mean? Jesus, I’m so confused. Does it mean he’s mine? Dare I hope? No. I can’t let myself think like that. He probably means that I’ve got him for one incredible shag and then he’ll disappear into the sunset, dragging my poor broken heart behind him. I shake my head at my phone, thinking of Ellen’s words, to give him a chance. And what’s he mean by see you soon? Tomorrow night, that’s soon, what else was he supposed to say to end the text? I love you?

 

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