It was getting dark as we walked up the path. The witching hour. There was something magical about this time of night and something was definitely in the air. You could feel the electricity sparking and jumping between us. Our bodies were touching in as many places as was possible as we walked side by side, the hairs on my arm standing to attention as the tingle spread throughout my body.
As we entered through the front door I flicked on the lights. Ed mirrored my actions, but in reverse, switching the lights back off. As he softly closed the door behind us he pulled me into his arms. We stood there in silence, staring into each other’s eyes. Our bodies now touching all the way from shoulder to toe. I could feel his chest heaving beneath his shirt. Smelt his aftershave. I closed my eyes, every sense alert to his presence. It felt like forever, the tension growing, the addictive sense of anticipation growing to a crescendo. And then it exploded. Our lust was unleashed. We were tongues, arms, hands. We were eating each other alive like we hadn’t eaten for a month and the only thing that could sate our appetite was the other person. We drank each other in like we had been walking in a desert for an eternity and the other person would provide the succour we needed.
Now, I wouldn’t describe myself as a prude, but nor am I a ‘kiss and tell’ kind of girl either, so I’m afraid that I’m not going to spell out exactly what happened next. So, I will cut to the next morning.
five.
Letting the sunshine into my life
In my humble opinion there is nothing better in the world than slowly waking up to find a warm, strong body spooning behind me. I smiled and pushed back into Ed’s body. His arms pulled tightly around me, squeezing me, conveying his reassurance and happiness.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispered into my ear.
Gorgeous, he called me gorgeous, I screamed inside my head. It had been years since anyone had called me that, let alone since I had actually felt gorgeous.
“Morning, handsome,” I purred in response.
We lay there, our bodies entwined, snuggling into each other until our senses, newly invigorated by sleep, awoke and nature once more drove our bodies to find ecstasy in each other.
We whiled away the morning in pretty much the same fashion, taking restorative naps followed by reawakening our passion. Finally, sated, we showered. Not together unfortunately, my shower just was not big enough.
Ed and I sat down at the breakfast bar. He tucked into some toast and whilst bread is definitely not part of my low-carb diet, I decided that after the night’s activities my body needed to replenish some of the lost energy, but what a way to lose it. I had made some strong coffee. I cupped my hands around the warm round bowl of a mug, looking up to take in the sight of Ed devouring his food.
We didn’t say it, we didn’t need to. We just knew that we wanted to be together, to be in each other’s company. Inevitably we would have to part, but for now, it was just now. Just us. No one and nothing but us.
Having spent the last fourteen hours in bed we felt the need to get out of the house for a while. Not that we had much energy, but we needed a change of scene, and more than that we needed time to rebuild our energy and prepare for what more was to come.
We held hands as we headed into the noise, the hustle and bustle of town on a Saturday. The market was in full swing. “Two pahnd a paahnd, two pahnd a paahnd, strawbebberies, two pahnd a paahnd,” the greengrocer was shouting. The smell from the fishmongers was pungent on that sunny day. It was enough to turn the stomach, but even that didn’t dent my happiness. The flower stall was a riot of colours, scents, shapes and sizes. People perused the choices before making their selections and walking away with arms full of flowers wrapped up in brown paper.
Each stall provided its own feast for the senses. A stall selling pork products had a sideline in selling hot food – burgers, bacon or sausage rolls. The ironmonger’s array of new and old tools scattered across trays on the paved market square. Coffee stalls, clothes, footwear, jewellery, every requirement catered for.
Away from all of this we started the gentle climb to the next village. The path separated from the road, rising above it, sheltered from the noise by a covered walkway, shrouded by trees and bushes. It was quiet. I could hear my heart beating, not from the exertion of the walk but from the proximity of our bodies. We didn’t talk much, both so content just to be next to each other, happy in that moment, our moment, our bubble.
We weaved our way up to the top of the hill, pausing at the top to look back across the town with the stunning church spire rising high above it. It looked so peaceful down there, the noise of the market dispersed in the distance between us. Holding hands we drank in the view and appreciated the cooling breeze, before turning back to the path and continuing on through the village, which was more of a sleepy hamlet.
We passed the tiny red brick church, barely more than the size of a large front room. It had a turret with grey slates rather than a spire. On we trod to the meeting room, a small, modern building set back from the road next to the children’s play area.
We turned away from the road onto a footpath that meandered around a field and turned us back towards the town. There had been little or no rain for over a week and the path was dry. With a crop of green corn rising from the dark brown earth on one side and a thick, prickly hedgerow on the other, we were forced to walk in single file. Ed took the lead, holding back branches that overhung the path and letting me pass through. We walked on in silence across two fields until we came to a small copse that provided some shelter from the sun and from any eyes that might be watching our progress.
I felt a shiver traverse my entire body as Ed came to a halt in front of me. Turning slowly he beamed down at me, putting his arms around my waist and back and drew me in close and we started to kiss. At first slowly, lovingly, like old lovers, tongues tied in our protected world. But as time ticked by the kiss became harder, more passionate, more urgent. We sank to our knees and lay down in the long grass, providing more screening from the path, creating our own world. Nothing and no one else existed right at that moment. We were pulling at each other’s clothes, desperate to be united once more.
Sometime later, sated and curled up in each other’s arms, Ed gently kissed my nose, a small touch that was so intimate and hinted at a relationship much longer and further developed than just this one amazing week. He suggested we reluctantly move on. I could have stayed there forever but Ed was right, we needed to finish the walk. I smiled at him and gently I said, “Thank you, this last twenty-four hours have been the best and happiest of my life.” I felt self-conscious having said too much and looked away. Ed lifted my head by placing his hand under my chin and tilting it up. He bent his head down to meet mine and kissed me.
“Me too,” he whispered, our faces still so close I felt the breath of the words on my lips.
Then he leapt to his feet, proffering a hand to help me up. We straightened up our clothes, giggling like teenagers as we did so and then, hand in hand, made our way home. My home, our home, my mind was ablaze with possibility.
Sitting outside in the garden surrounded by the heady scent of the flowers that fringed my garden, I really should learn their names, I thought.
When I had been creating the garden, transforming the muddy mess I had inherited from the previous owner, I had trawled garden centres every weekend buying plants that made me happy; colours and shapes that worked with what I had already planted. Pinks and purples and whites of every shade and hue that had its place, short at the front, tall at the back. At least I had taken the time to read the label to see how tall they would grow to. The colour scheme was designed to stand out against the greenery of the shrubs that would eventually grow to fill the borders. I felt so at peace, so happy, so blessed.
And so went on that special first weekend together. We were barely out of each other’s arms. When we were it was because we had a need to, not just the obvious
visits to the bathroom, but also to cook. But when we were eating we were touching, when we were walking we were touching, when we made love we touched in entirety. We melted into each other’s being, becoming one and staying as one as often and for as long as our energy would allow.
The following afternoon, drinking tea, again on the loungers, soaking up the sunshine in the garden, my fears began to rise in my chest. I wanted the weekend to go on forever. But inevitably, as Sunday afternoon drew to a close, Ed turned serious on me.
“I have to go, I’m so sorry. I would like nothing more than to stay with you but I have work tomorrow and it’s just too far to commute,” he said with genuine regret.
“I know,” I replied softly. “I had hoped this moment would never come, but I know you have to go.”
I watched, solemnly, as Ed neatly folded and packed his clothes into his overnight bag. I walked, solemnly, as we made our way downstairs. I waited, solemnly, at the front door as he put on his coat and joined me. We kissed, savouring every last moment. I stayed in Ed’s embrace, feeling his strong arms filling me with strength.
Eventually we eased apart, ruefully, solemnly.
“I’ll call you when I get home,” he promised as he walked out of the door.
“Drive safely,” I called after him as he strode down the path. Now that we had to part there was no point in making it worse or prolonging it.
He paused as he closed the gate. He looked up, gave me a hearty smile and a wave that neither of us was really feeling. And then he was gone.
I lingered by the door. I don’t know why, maybe somewhere deep inside I was hoping to see him come running back along the path and into my arms once more. But he didn’t.
I found myself at a loss as to what to do with myself now. The house was different, oddly quiet, empty, lonely and cold, not something I had experienced before in my beautiful home. I felt ill at ease and knowing Ed wouldn’t be calling for a couple of hours I decided to go for a walk into town to see if there was anything happening that might distract me from my thoughts.
It didn’t work. The shops were long since shut and the town didn’t really have much of an atmosphere on Sunday evening. It didn’t fill me with joy as it usually did, apart from the people enjoying the evening sunshine on the Common – families having picnics, friends playing football, couples cosying up to each other despite the openness of the space. No, this isn’t helping, I thought, and trudged back to the house.
As I sat in front of the TV, some programme lighting up the room, I was neither watching it nor taking in what was happening. Instead I was tuned in to my emotions. I was so excited and nervous. Naturally my fears grew as the hours passed and there was no news from Ed.
I’m not pessimistic by nature, I always try to see, or at least look for, the good in any situation. I’m a glass half full, not half empty type of person. But I had been here before both emotionally and relationship-wise. I knew these feelings and they scared me. Maybe if I had been luckier in matters of the heart before then I would be more relaxed and savour this moment, but I couldn’t. My father used to say that I wore my heart on my sleeve, and now I was sitting, alone, on my sofa, reviewing everything I had said, and cringing at some of it, allowing myself to sink into pessimistic thoughts about the outcomes of those mistakes. In truth I had good reason to be like this.
I didn’t want to think something bad had happened, but equally I didn’t want to believe that he had changed his mind about calling me, even if briefly to let me know he got home safely. Eventually, and to my enormous relief, the phone rang.
“Hello, you,” I purred as I answered.
“Hello, you,” he said softly in reply. “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to call you. It’s okay, nothing happened on the journey back, that was remarkably quiet and straightforward. No, it’s what happened when I got home that kept me from calling.”
My heart was in my mouth, fearing the worst that he had been burgled or there had been bad news of some sort. But Ed’s tone was light, as if he was smiling, so I reassured myself that it couldn’t be anything terrible.
“Do tell me,” I said. “The suspense is killing me.”
“Well, as I walked through the door, phone in hand to call you…”
Good sign, I thought.
“The phone rang,” he continued, “and it was my son, Dan, he sounded rather excited and asked if he could come around, so of course I said yes. I could have given you a quick call while I was waiting for Dan to arrive to let you know I was ok, but I really wanted to chat without rushing, I hope that was ok?”
“Of course,” I assured him, the fact that he wanted to chat after spending the whole weekend with me filled me with joy.
Ed continued his story. Clearly some great and important news had been imparted during that visit, as his voice was bursting with pride and happiness.
“Dan arrived with Emma, his girlfriend. They were holding hands and beaming from ear to ear as they walked up to the front door where I was already waiting for them. As they passed me I happened to notice Emma’s hand and was so thrilled to see a gleaming diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand. Good news indeed, I thought, but I didn’t let on I knew, as I could tell they wanted to tell me themselves otherwise they would have told me over the phone.
“I offered them drinks which we took out into my courtyard garden. As we sat down Dan turned all serious so I tried to mirror his mood, but it was so hard, given I knew what he was about to say.
“‘Dad’, he said, ‘we have just come from Emma’s parents where I asked them if I could take their daughter’s hand in marriage.’ At this point all three of us gave up the pretence of being serious and beamed at each other. Dan continued, ‘Luckily they both said yes, as you can see.’ At that point Emma lifted her left hand with her fingers pointing down to show off the ring. I don’t know much about rings, it’s been a while since I bought one, but it looked pretty and modest, I would say.
“‘So, Dad,’ Dan said, getting all serious again, ‘Emma and I wanted to check that you approve as well.’ I have to confess that I felt very proud of my son. We’ve had our ups and downs as a family and yet here he was being very traditional and respectful. It almost moved me to tears.”
Ed paused and I let out my breath, then gushingly responded, “What wonderful news, congratulations to you and to them of course, you must all be so, so happy.”
“We are,” he replied. “They told me they were going on to see my ex-wife, Dan’s mother, Clare,” he stumbled over the words, “after they told me, so I didn’t want to keep them too long, just offering to support them in any way they needed, they only had to ask. There is no date set for the wedding, for now they are just happy to be engaged and are enjoying that.
“As they were leaving Emma asked me if I’d had a good weekend. She had rather a wicked twinkle in her eyes as she asked and I have to confess I rather let it all out of the bag, telling them how amazing a time I had had. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Of course not.” What else could I say? I felt a glow of happiness. Not only had he told me he’d had an amazing weekend but he also told his son and future daughter-in-law. Wow, I thought, the weekend had gone even better than I had dared to hope.
Ed continued, “Dan and Emma are both really excited about meeting you soon…” He trailed off, now sounding a little more uncertain, maybe that he had gone too far in making assumptions about the future and the direction of our relationship.
“I can’t wait to meet them,” I reassured him. I genuinely wanted to meet the people who meant the most to him.
“Wonderful,” he said, the confidence returning to his voice. “We’ll have to arrange it when I’m down this weekend. Oh, that is if you would like to see me?”
“Of course I would, in fact I would like nothing more than to see you this weekend.” My whole body let out a metaphorical sigh as all my
dreams started falling into place.
We chatted on for another half hour before realising the time and the need for sleep before work the next day.
This is going to be a very long week, I thought as I curled up, alone, in my king-size bed, pulling the pillow that smelt of Ed in close to my body for warmth and comfort. Yes, I thought as I was drifting off to sleep, this is going to be a long week.
six.
Not all relationships are created equal
Not all relationships start with such promise. There had certainly been those that satisfied the basic human need to be in a relationship but nothing more than that. Fred 3 had been such a relationship.
Looking back, with the gift of hindsight, it was a complete waste of time, emotion and, as it turned out, money. Why I ever started seeing him was anyone’s guess. Mine would be that I was lonely. All my friends were in relationships and I felt increasingly left out as they did more and more couple socialising.
I was out for after-work drinks one Friday and Fred 3 was cracking on with my diminutive, beautiful, funny and flirty colleague. She was not interested. It was not the age difference; Fred 3 was ten years older than me so at least fifteen years older than my friend. The issue was that she was already in love and obviously not with Fred 3.
Having failed with my first friend he had moved on to the second, a beautiful, lithe blonde – an incredibly friendly, easy-going and insightful person. She had quickly got the measure of Fred 3 and made her excuses, plus she was also in a relationship with a man she had previously loved and lost and was determined not to make the same mistake again.
So that left me. Stupid, gullible, lonely me. And I fell for it. Not the charm, there really was none of that in evidence. Not the looks, they were pretty thin on the ground, as was his hair. He was of average height, slender, but with a rapidly developing beer-induced pot belly, his bald scalp accompanied by grade-one-cut greying hair covering the rest of his head. These in themselves wouldn’t necessarily negate a relationship, I have never been driven by looks, but in this case Fred 3’s personality didn’t make up for the lack of attraction. So why, oh why did I waste so much time and effort on this hopeless case? Loneliness. Loneliness and the need to save people, not in a superhero type of way, but send me the lonely, the lost, the sad, the unconfident, the ones that put up a front to hide behind, the hurt – mentally and emotionally. All my life I had been attracting this type of man and they had always been my downfall. As soon as I had fixed one of them, they moved on. Within weeks or months of deciding I was not worth marrying they were engaged to someone else. Go figure.
Loves Lost and Found Page 7