Bless This Love

by S M Mala

  Bless this Love

  by

  S M Mala

  Published by S M Mala

  Copyright © S M Mala 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication is to be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any forms or by any means, including photocopying, recording or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Visit my website: www.smmala.com to see other titles.

  All helpful advice and genuine comments are welcome.

  And if you liked what you read then please review on Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk or Goodreads.com. All positive comments are deeply appreciated.

  Dedicated to the power of Stevie’s music and lyric that can sum up how you think and feel at any given time.

  Thank you for sharing and lifting our spirit.

  Do Do…

  Do Do Do Do Do Do Do…

  Do Do Do…

  ‘Dear God, don’t let him catch me.’

  Every time she came from her early morning gym session, Suri would buy a coffee and sit on her favourite bench on the green, watching the man.

  Previously she had gone to the gym ‘Punch Box’ but was petrified of a trainer called Mr Mac and swore, after punching her own face by mistake, she’d never go again.

  The man ran past in his grey hooded top and black bottoms, concentrating hard. Occasionally there would be a quick glance, but little else.

  This had been going on for weeks. He seemed so focussed and determined.

  It had now turned into a game to see what time he’d turn up and whether he’d look at her. Considering she only spent thirty minutes in the gym, and it took another twenty to get coffee then walk to the park, he liked to jog about around twenty-five past seven in the morning.

  The man in question was about five foot nine and slim, unshaven but very handsome. Mainly he’d run with his hood up but sometimes, if she was lucky, he’d pull it down.

  That’s when he’d reveal his short wavy dark hair and perfect profile.

  All too good to be true.

  But she was sitting near the church so maybe he was an angel out on exercise.

  He did look heavenly and even for a television continuity writer; she knew that was cheesy through and through.

  Listening to the music in her headphones, Stevie Wonder was filling her ears. She needed something to alleviate her annoyance.

  Ted, her ex-lover, was texting her. She ended it nearly a year ago when she found out he was married. Deep down, Suri hated the fact he reeled her in before confessing he was hitched.

  By then it was too late.

  She had no way of coming out of it unscathed and broke it off within twenty-four hours.

  But he was the type of guy that couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

  Luckily, Suri didn’t back down and refused his propositions again and again.

  She felt like an idiot not realising all the obvious clues.

  Then Ted got a great new job offer and transferred to another location in London, though he still worked for the same company. It was the perfect time for her to call it a day. Ted didn’t seem unhappy about it. He was moving onto pastures new and was probably keen to take up with someone else.

  It was only after they parted, Suri realised she hadn’t been the first and would definitely not be the last.

  It was small relief but not a massive heartbreak.

  Plus she realised she was never truly in love with the man. Suri did love him in her own way, but not with passion.

  There had only ever been one person who truly took her heart.

  Rory.

  He wasn’t around anymore and every man, since him, could never fill his shoes.

  Then the ultimate disaster happened.

  It was still gossiped about locally, to this day.

  It would always be hard for Suri to truly move on.

  But last night, Ted texted to say he loved her and wanted to leave his wife, begging for another chance. It had taken him nearly twelve months to figure that out.

  It would be a monumental mistake if she accepted as Suri knew she could never trust him.

  That was the ultimate thing.

  Finding someone she could trust and who would carefully look after her body and soul, where there would be no betrayal, just love.

  Ted was certainly not that person for the job.

  He had talked about them moving in together, getting married and eventually having a family.

  What a crock of shit that turned out to be because he was already married with kids.

  ‘Arsehole,’ she mumbled under her breath, listening to the music and closing her eyes.

  Music was her only comfort. Songs from when she was young, to the present. She loved Motown and any soul. It made her feel happy while forgetting her woes.

  ‘Bastard,’ she muttered when thinking about Ted and his emotional blackmail. ‘Deceitful-.’

  Then she opened her eyes, and the jogger had come round again, which was strange as he usually headed out towards the other end of the green. His expression was of confusion, probably hearing her swear.

  She avoided eye contact.

  It was too early in the day to be arrested for stalking plus she’d been talking to herself, so it looked bad, especially cursing.

  Then she noticed he flicked her a disgruntled glance and realised any chance of speaking to the jogging man were now diminished. He probably thought she was a homeless, mentally unstable person.

  The latter he’d be right about.

  She got up and walked in the direction of her home, knowing the man would probably report her to the police, afraid for his wellbeing. Then Suri noticed the man who played the harmonica on the corner, getting ready to start his busking.

  Once, many years ago, she told her mother he was Stevie Wonder’s twin brother. Her mother, quite rightly, said his name was Kevin and he lived on the Brentford Estate in one of the high rise block of flats.

  Suri ignored the comment.

  To her it was a sign that listening to Stevie would alleviate all her pain through his songs.

  This she believed more than she did in god.

  Now it was the beginning of spring and smelt so fresh and new.

  There was hope in the air and she wished she felt hopeful about life.

  Looking up, she noticed the church steeple and how pretty the place looked in the early morning sunshine. It hit her, all of a sudden, the memory of ‘All Angels’ church and the last three occasions she went in, nearly ten years earlier when she was twenty-three.

  Suri wondered why she was always pulled to the place, sitting on a bench that reminded her of something very bleak from her past. The catalyst of why she was like the way she was.

  Another message came up, and it was from Ted.

  ‘I love you so much. I keep thinking about the amazing sex we had. I made a mistake, but I’m willing to fix things.’

  Suri didn’t want anything fixed.

  She quite liked the fact it was broken with him.

  Over the years, she knew she was running away from relationships, afraid of feeling the pain of love.

  Because to her that was all love had ever been.

  A deep rooted and throbbing pain of despair and loss.

  ‘Yes mum.’

  Mary, Suri’s mother, was fussing about in the living room, trying to find things to donate to the church. ‘This is all I can find.’

  Glancing at her mother’s recently dyed black hair again
st her dark brown skin, which was starting to look a little older, she smiled. All for the sake of God and Jesus Christ, more to the point, ‘All Angels’ church.

  A picture of him, Lord Jesus Christ, all blue eyed and blond, sat next to a snap of Suri when she was three.

  He was very much part of the family.

  Time and time again, her mother used to threaten to christen Suri if she was naughty. Her late father wanted his child to decide whether to be Christian, Muslim, Hindu or Jewish; it was up to her.

  Most Sunday mornings it would turn into a debate as to whether her father had made the wrong decision.

  Over a decade ago, her mother clearly thought he had.

  Mary was a devout Christian (though she was born a Hindu) and loved everything about the church.

  Suri, on the other hand, did not.

  Once she believed in God but now she had doubts. Suri had been let down, time and time again to the point, she wondered if it was a test. Whatever it was, pretty much like her exams, she was good at failing them.

  ‘This is great!’ her mother chuffed, looking at all the donations Suri had given. ‘It’s wonderful that you get these free things working in television.’

  Her mother was so proud of that, telling people how important her daughter was.

  Suri just checked the scripts for the announcers and made sure the material was accurate. Now and again she’d write but lately, she hadn’t been inspired to. Her line of work crossed many different genres from drama to, the one that amused her the most, an adult channel. Given that the company she worked for had diverse content, it was inevitable this would happen.

  It caused great amusement to her friends.

  And it gave Suri a monumental problem when she had to correct the writing. There were great limitations on her knowledge of porn. Most of the comments were lost on her.

  ‘What are you raising money for today?’ Suri asked, sitting on the sofa and scowling at her mother’s lace table cloth with the ceramic roses in a vase. ‘You’ve practically rescued the third world.’

  Looking up, she caught a reflection of herself in the mirror. She remembered when she was eighteen, examining herself in the hope she’d find a boyfriend.

  A year later she did.

  Rory had changed everything forever and, even now, there was no turning back.

  Suri looked at her long wavy hair, tousled and black, then at her brown face, and high cheekbones courtesy of her mother, plump lips from her late father’s side. It wasn’t unattractive, but she always wanted to be prettier and slimmer and sexier.

  Who didn’t?

  ‘It’s for homeless people,’ her mother sighed, examining one of the t-shirts Suri had donated. ‘Even though we don’t get them in our area, they are around.’

  ‘Mother, they are in our area. The thing is some of them have been homeless for years.’

  ‘That’s not true! Some people like living outside,’ she said, huffing in Suri’s direction.

  She knew her mother missed the point because she thought these people were happy.

  They usually were – because they were drunk.

  ‘Reverend Pinter wants to help,’ Mary continued. ‘But it’s the new assistant Vicar’s idea.’

  ‘Why an assistant and not a curate?’

  ‘Ah, rumour has it, he did have his own parish but something went wrong. Idle gossip, I suppose. He has been sent here to get some guidance from the Reverend.’

  Suri let out a little snort when she laughed only to receive a scornful look from her mother. Jack was probably more wayward than most of the parish, give or take.

  And she knew Reverend Pinter was probably not so bothered but was coerced into it by the most domineering women in the parish. Janet Peters for one, who hated Suri with such a passion even her mother daren’t mention her own daughter’s name for fear of a backlash.

  The woman wasn’t forgiving even after nearly a decade later.

  Suri knew she’d suffered since the death of her daughter. There was the breakdown of her marriage, her son going to live in another part of the country and the rumour that she had a drink problem. When she was younger, Suri remembered the woman was never seen without a gin and tonic. After Felicity died, it allegedly got worse.

  ‘And is Janet Peters in charge of this?’ she asked, seeing her mother frown. There was no love lost between the two women. ‘Tell her to stuff it.’

  ‘Suri!’

  ‘She hates me and you. What more does she want? Parading around as if she runs the Church of England!’

  ‘You can understand why she’s so angry,’ her mother said, looking sympathetically at Suri. ‘She lost a child.’

  ‘We’ve all lost something but we don’t go on and on about it.’ Suri knew she was getting angry. Janet Peters felt the need to look down on her mother, and this just made Suri mad. ‘I’m sick and tired of the dirty looks she shoots over at me.’

  ‘She wants us to aim for as much as we can,’ her mother said and Suri knew she was going to change the subject. ‘The new Vicar wants us to try hard. He wants the choir to have more of a gospel inspiration. Obviously Janet and her friends weren’t pleased but quite a few of us think it’s a great idea. I’ve even joined!’

  ‘Mum?’ Suri said, trying not to utter the next line.

  ‘Just because you think I sing like a strangled cat doesn’t mean to say everyone does,’ her mother replied quickly as Suri looked away. She then noticed her mother smile and it was an odd expression. ‘He’s very nice.’

  ‘You don’t fancy him, do you?’ Suri laughed, seeing her mum frown.

  ‘He’s too young, and he might be the new Vicar if Reverend Pinter wants to step down. At the moment they’ll share the work. And he might also get offered his own parish again, one day.’

  ‘What? Is Jack going to leave?’

  ‘They want to have back up because Reverend Pinter is getting on. It’s a large parish, let’s be honest. He doesn’t want to retire but needs help,’ she said enthusiastically.

  ‘That’s because he spends most of his time propped up against the bar of the ‘Coach and Horses,’ she sniggered.

  ‘It’s good to get some young blood. You could always come to church and meet him, even join the choir.’

  Suri let out a very loud laugh.

  ‘No thanks! I don’t think religious men are my thing and I won’t step into that church again.’

  ‘Suri! Can’t you at least show your face? All the other women’s families show up.’

  ‘I show up. I wait for you on the bench on the green, when I’m free on a Sunday, then we go to lunch.’

  ‘That’s not what I mean.’ Her mum hesitated. ‘You have such a beautiful voice and I know you’d be really good in the choir.’

  ‘I don’t sing anymore,’ Suri replied, taking the opportunity to make a quick exit, she got up and looked at her watch.

  ‘Over ten years I’ve not heard a song from you,’ her mother gently said. ‘Don’t let that boy take everything you had away.’

  Suri didn’t know how to answer and bit her lip.

  Her mother didn’t know how much he’d taken with the help of Suri.

  ‘I’ve got to go. I said I’d meet Naomi at seven,’ she said, letting out a hefty sigh and not wanting to discuss Rory. ‘I don’t want to be late.’

  ‘Fine!’ her mother sniffed. ‘I live in hope that one day you will come to church.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ she mumbled under her breath. ‘Only in a coffin.’

  ‘It’s the porno queen!’

  Len, Naomi’s boyfriend, yelled out as Suri walking into the packed pub on Wednesday evening. She worked with him at the television company. He was an editor and Suri had introduced him to her best friend in the pub, months ago. Naomi was fed up with the men she was meeting and Len seemed perfect.

  It was lust at first sight.

  Suri wasn’t quite sure if it was a match made in heaven.

  ‘Oh ignore him!’ laughed Naomi, standing up and g
iving her a hug.

  She was the same height as Suri, around five feet and four inches, curly medium brown hair and very rosy red cheeks. Naomi came across as scatty, but was sharp, and spoke in a breathless voice. Wherever she went, there was a sprinkling of fun. They had been friends since primary school and still hung out together.

  ‘I need another job,’ she groaned, pushing down Suri onto a chair and filling her glass with wine. ‘I hate it there. They’re so up their own arses.’

  ‘You wanted to go and work at a production company. They’re not the same as us television people. We do all the crap jobs and they get all the credit.’

  ‘Because we create programmes, darling!’ said Naomi, starting to laugh. ‘You just broadcast them and make sure people say lovely words for the intro.’

  ‘Yes, you make my job sound crap.’

  There was a massive cheer.

  Someone scored a goal.

  They were there to watch a football match but Naomi and Suri just wanted to catch up on gossip. She looked at the usual bunch and smiled.

  Everyone was in a relationship other than her.

  Naomi wasn’t too impressed when Suri had her fling with Ted. She knew him too and warned Suri off but by then it was too late.

  ‘Len’s got a good friend coming tonight. He has moved locally and Len wants to help him settle in,’ groaned Naomi, before whispering. ‘Some of his friends, well, they’re a little odd. I mean, we’ve only been together four months and already I’m starting to see a pattern.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They only seem to stay in relationships for about over a year then they split. It’s quite worrying,’ she sighed, grinning happily at her tubby boyfriend with thinning hair. ‘I hope Len’s different.’

  ‘He seems smitten.’ Suri took a deep breath then handed her phone over to Naomi to read the texts from Ted. ‘Look what’s been happening.’

  Her friend’s alarmed face said it all.

  ‘You’re not seriously thinking about it, are you?’ she asked, getting agitated. ‘He has a bloody nerve! You know I heard he took up with his personal assistant within a matter of weeks.’

  It didn’t hurt, the comment; it just filled Suri with disappointment.