Quicklinks:
|
Great Writing - Home > Extended > Three accounts of events - part 10
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| GW IS... |
|---|
|
Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
and provide inspiration and motivation within aspiring and amateur
authors. Whatever your topic; from love poetry to Doctor Who or Harry
Potter fan fiction, Great Writing's online writing group is where you
can make new friends and improve your creative writing. |
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1900 guests online and 5 members online |
Extended Work
| print friendly version | |
| Three accounts of events - part 10 | |
| By teddy | ||||||||||
| 11 March 2007 | ||||||||||
|
Warning! - This is a very long part. would very much appreciate your comments. Thanks. George discovered a leak in the bathroom last night so we had to call in the plumbers this morning. He suggested I’m taking Vicky at Tina’s while they’re fixing it. ‘It’ll be too noisy and dusty here for her,’ he said. So there we are, me and Vicky, tucked up in my car, on our way to Walthamstow. Vicky’s babbling a conversation with the teddy bear whose floppy limbs she’s been determinedly trying to disassemble for the last ten minutes - I’ve kept glancing at her curiously in the mirror; it’s weird how we humans acquire a predilection for destruction from such an early age - while I’m concentrating on the road signs and markings. I’m not the best driver in the world and I always have to be double careful when I have Vicky in the car with me. It’s not nine a clock yet and the cloud crowded sky’s been showering down non-stop for the last half hour. The outside looks sloppily damp and I’m glad I’m not one of those people cringed under skimpy umbrellas, throwing furtive looks at the cars passing by, trying to anticipate the routes of their wheels, preparing for the foreseeable splashes. ‘Are you ok, baby?’ I throw another look at Vicky in the mirror. She shrieks when she hears me and redirects her gibberish speech towards me. We might not speak the same dialect yet, my voice must size up the right number of decibels for her ears though, because she always responds happily gurgling whenever I talk to her, no matter what I’ve got to say. ‘It’s no long left, bunny, we’ll be there soon,’ I reassure her, not that it matters much because she likes being driven around in the car. We won’t stay at Tina’s for very long. Paul is supposed to come and pick her up around twelve. He asked permission few days ago to take Vicky to Kent this weekend to visit his parents. I couldn’t refuse him, could I? It’s been a week since Vicky’s birthday and I saw him once since. He rang me up on Thursday morning, asking if he could take Vicky and me out for lunch. I felt reluctant at first, but then he told me he was having a busy week and wasn’t able to come and see Vicky in the evening. He wasn’t feeling too confident with taking Vicky out for the whole afternoon on his own, that’s why he thought maybe I wouldn’t mind joining them. So I agreed. He arrived in Highgate around one o’clock and by that time Vicky and I had been ready to go. He didn’t seem embarrassed, neither remorseful for his Saturday night behaviour, but I accepted the kiss on the cheek and the box of chocolate he gave me as an apology. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked once in the car. He smiled and told me it was a surprise. After a half an hour journey through a busy mid-week afternoon London, I thought I’d started to recognise the classy houses edging the narrow, sparkling clean roads and suddenly I knew where he was taking us: Luigi’s restaurant, the place we had dined together so many times before. God, it had been such a long time! When we entered the place, Paul was holding Vicky, I landed straight into Luigi’s massive arms. I think he knew we were going, well, Paul must’ve told him. ‘Mia cara,’ he pecked me on both cheeks, ‘so nice to see you again.’ I smiled, he had not changed a bit I thought, the same ample smile on his face, the same contagious cheerfulness about him. He then turned to Vicky. ‘Oh my God,’ he said snatching her from Paul’s arms, ‘she’s just as beautiful as her mum. Hello, little princess.’ Surprisingly Vicky’s face didn’t frown, she stared at him for a moment and then she awarded him with a giggle, it must’ve been his accent that had triggered it ‘You’re good with kids, Luigi.’ I remarked. ‘I’ve got four of my own so I must be,’ he laughed. He took us to our table and after installing Vicky in an enormous baby chair, he left us to enjoy our meal. The lunch was pleasant, I could see Paul was making an effort, there were no futile questions asked or awkward subjects mentioned. Even Vicky behaved better than usual and managed not to spatter out her specially prepared meal more than twice. ‘She’s a bit fussy about food,’ I apologised to Paul when it happened. There was something very cosy about the three of us being there together, but I tried to push the feeling far away; it was unfair of me to even think about it. Just before we finished, Paul asked if we’d like to go around his place to see Vicky’s newly decorated room. I looked at him trying to decipher any possible hidden intentions in his request, but he seemed genuine so I said yes. I’m sure Vicky would’ve been really excited about the idea too, but by the time Paul put her back in her baby seat in the car, she had been already asleep. Paul’s house is just around the corner from Luigi’s so it took us no time to get there. Once inside, he took us upstairs and put Vicky in the cot acquired specially for her. The room, I recognised it as being Paul’s old bedroom, was beautifully done. The walls were painted in a very light pink, a shade of pink not heavy on the eye at all, and the windows were verged on each side by pinkly beige curtains that dropped heavily to the floor. The furniture was delicately made of aged creamy-white painted wood. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you like it,’ Paul smiled. ‘I hope it will meet Vicky’s approval too.’ ‘I’m sure it will,’ I smiled back. I started taking Vicky’s coat and shoes off after Paul had gone downstairs to make the coffee. ‘There are baby monitors all over the place,’ he said before leaving the room. ‘You don’t need to worry about leaving her on her own.’ After I finished undressing Vicky and covered her with a light tiny duvet, I left. I knew she wasn’t going to wake up too soon, it had been a quite busy day for her and she must’ve been pretty tired. On the landing, just before taking the stairs, I looked around and saw Paul’s bedroom door half open. I instinctively headed towards it, I don’t really know why. I pushed the door and walked into the room. Nothing had been changed in there. I sat down on the bed, with my hands clamped together on my lap, staring at the painting hanging above his bed, the same one I’d given to him when I was living there myself, as a thanking present for letting me transform one of the spare rooms in a studio. There were so many memories packed in that room I almost felt I couldn’t handle them. I turned around ready to get up and spotted Paul standing in the open door, God knows how long he had been watching me for. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumbled embarrassed, ‘I just wanted to…’ ‘Sshh, don’t apologise,’ he said moving over and sitting next to me on the bed. ‘I didn’t think you’d still have that,’ I said, pointing at the painting I had been looking at earlier. ‘Hmmm,’ he smiled, ‘I love that panting, I could not possibly let it go.’ He was just trying to be nice, I thought. But then he’d always said my work was good so maybe he was telling the truth, well, at least I had hoped so. He looked at me and touched my face and for a second I worried that he might try something on. I was feeling a bit sad and any funny moves from him would’ve worsened my mood. But he didn’t, he just kissed my hair and took my hand, helping me to get up. ‘Let’s go downstairs, the coffee’s getting cold.’ We sat down in the kitchen and drank our coffee, and I was really grateful to him for not bringing the ‘us’ and ‘George’ matter up again. All I wanted was a quiet, nice afternoon spent with two people that I loved and he had been unconditionally giving it to me. It was almost half past four when Vicky woke up and I knew we would have to leave. ‘I’ll take you home,’ Paul said while I was getting Vicky ready. ‘I hope you’re not gonna get in trouble for skiving work.’ I teased him once in the car. ‘I hope so too,’ he laughed. When we got home, he helped me take Vicky upstairs. He kissed us both goodbye - Vicky didn’t seem too keen when he leant over and gave her a kiss on her forehead; she was hungry and consequently moody – and left. After I gave Vicky her bottle, I checked the house phone: there were five missed calls and three messages on the answering machine. All from George. The last one had a quite upset tone so I quickly rang him back. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he exploded when he heard my voice. I was astounded, what was he shouting at me for? It wasn’t exactly in his character to do that. ‘Out with Vicky. Why, what’s the matter?’ ‘What’s the matter?’ he shouted even louder this time. ‘I’ve been trying to call you since midday and there have been no answer. I didn’t know what on earth had happened to you.’ ‘Well, why didn’t you ring me on my mobile?’ I muttered irritated by his tone. ‘I did. It’s switched off.’ ‘It can’t be,’ I said while fetching my bag and rummaging its inside. I finally manage to find the phone and looked at it. He was right, it was switched off. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘the battery must’ve gone flat.’ ‘Yeah, well, next time when you decide to put on a disappearing act like this please let me know, ok? I’ve been worried sick.’ I apologised again, I felt terrible not only for my lack of consideration, but also for not telling him about Vicky and I being out with Paul. What would’ve he said if he’d found out? I mean, I knew it was not like I’d done something wrong, at the end of the day it was only an afternoon out, but for some reason I didn’t think it was quite appropriate. Because otherwise I would’ve told him. ‘I’m on my way home anyway,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t stay at the office anymore, I thought something had happened. How’s Vicky?’ ‘She’s fine,’ I said. ‘Ok, I’ll see you soon then.’ I put the phone down and sighed. If we had stayed at Paul’s a bit longer, Paul would’ve definitely bumped into George on his way back. I’m parking the car few houses down from Tina’s. It’s quite difficult to find a parking space here, especially on a Saturday morning when everyone’s at home. I’m lucky to have found this. ‘Come on, baby,’ I fetch Vicky from her back seat. I leave her other things in the car, planning to get them later. Tina’s waiting for us in the kitchen with freshly brewed coffee and warm toast, and a mashed banana for Vicky. ‘Morning little munchkin,’ she takes her of my arms. Vicky’s babbling a few contented raspberries at her, she’s just happy to see her favourite auntie. She absolutely adores Tina and Craig’s on her favourites list too. Well, that’s not a surprise really, they both fuss so much around her when she’s about, spoiled little thing. I’m munching my last piece of toast and just about to finish my coffee when Tina tells me that she and Craig have to go out. ‘It’s Craig’s sister’s birthday tomorrow and we need to get her a present,’ she says. ‘Hope you don’t mind.’ ‘No, of course not,’ I reassured her. ‘You do whatever you need to do. We’ll be ok.’ ‘Listen Adi,’ she suggests, ‘how about taking Vicky shopping with us? You can have a little break, you know, watch a bit a TV or maybe have a lie-down in the mean time. We’ll be back by twelve when Paul’s coming to pick her up. What do you think?’ If she thinks it’s not too much trouble, then yeah, why not? I know they just want to spend more time with Vicky; with both of them working full-time that proves quite difficult during the week. Vicky seems excited too - she keeps clapping her hands on Craig’s face and squashing his mouth between her palms - even though she doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. I’m sure though she won’t come back empty handed, she never does when she’s with them; her hundred tonnes worth of toys collection will definitely increase its weight by the end of the trip. I’ve kept telling them that if they keep buying her stuff, we might need to keep the Highgate flat just for storage and move in with them, but they seem a bit deaf at times. I put the dirty mugs and plates into the dishwasher after they leave and when I finish, I make my way into the living room. I switch the TV on and lie down on the sofa. I browse through the channels but it’s not much I fancy watching. There’s a programme that looks interesting, about ancient Egypt, on the History channel, but I think I’ve seen it before. The news are not news anymore, they keep bragging on about the Prime Minister’s potential visit to China, it’s all we’ve been served for the last few days. Out of options, I leave it on BBC1 where James Martin’s trying to convince an over-made-up girl from Coronation Street that she should never overcook the squid if she didn’t want to end up with chewing gum for dinner. As if she cares! She looks quite bored, but still manages to smile politely and nods approvingly. I suppose it’s not that easy to be a soap star, you must have quite a lot to put up with. I feel my eyelids growing heavy and I’m struggling now to keep my eyes open. I still don’t get a lot a sleep at night, don’t really know why. That’s why I feel so tired sometimes during the day. I usually go to bed when George does, but I can’t go to sleep straight away. It’s only when, fed up with my tossing around I suppose, he clasps me into his arms that I basically relax and eventually fall asleep. I’ve just been on a cooking trip with James Martin myself when my ringing mobile wakes me up. I look at the clock, it’s quarter to twelve. I pick up the phone: it’s Tina, they're stuck in traffic and not able to get back by twelve. It’s sounds quite bad from what she says, they haven’t moved at all for the last ten minutes. Luckily Vicky’s asleep so she can’t moan or snivel. I mean, how would you explain to a one-year old baby that she’s trapped in her seat in the back of your car because your car is prevented from moving by tens of others stuck in front of it, and that’s most probably because some idiot has thumped his car in the back of someone else’s, or the council has finally decided to do something about the holes in the road on one of the busiest days of the week. I doubt she’d understand. But she’s asleep now, so at least Tina doesn’t need to worry about her. I put the phone down and I’m not quite sure if I should call Paul just to let him know that Vicky’s not ready to leave yet. Well, she can’t be obviously, since she’s not even here. I decide not to, he can’t be that far, he surely wouldn’t turn around and come back later. He has no choice, he will have to wait. I grab an Argos catalogue from the side table. Vicky needs a new car seat, the one she’s got in my car is becoming too small for her. God, doesn’t she grow fast! I’m turning over the pages, trying to locate the section I need when the door bell starts ringing. That must be Paul. Strange though, I haven’t heard his car engine rumbling nearby, he must’ve parked further down the road. I go and open the door. It’s him, of course. ‘Hi,’ he smiles before giving me a peck on the cheek. It’s almost as if we’re best friends or sort of related to each other, you know, there’s that kind of intimacy in his greetings. . ‘Hi,’ I answer before throwing myself into explaining the unanticipated road traffic situation. ‘I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind waiting for a bit.’ I say apologetically. I know he and Vicky are expected in Kent for lunch, and I don’t really want his parents to starve waiting for them two to turn up. Of course he wouldn’t he reassures me. I invite him in and once inside, I take him into the living room. He sits down on the sofa next to my open magazine. ‘What have you been up to?’ he asks pointing at it. I tell him about Vicky’s fast growing performance. ‘Let me get it for her,’ he offers generously. ‘You’ve given us enough money already,’ I protest. ‘It doesn’t matter, Adi, I can still buy her the seat. ‘No, honestly, it’s no need, trust me.’ I don’t have the heart to tell him that I haven’t touched any of the money he has paid for Vicky’s maintenance so far. When he mentioned it, I told George. He suggested I’d open a fund in Vicky’s name and let her decide when she’ll be old enough what to do with them. I agreed, I didn’t want George to feel unneeded anymore. I ask Paul if he wants a drink and he says he would like a cup of coffee. I’m just about to leave the room when my phone starts ringing again. It’s Tina. They have barely moved since we spoke last time. ‘I reckon we’ll be at least another half an hour,’ she says. Vicky’s still asleep and I thank God for that. After I update Paul with the news, I head towards the kitchen. When I come back with the coffee, I find him resting his head on the back of the sofa with his eyes closed. He looks asleep. I put the coffee on the table and sit down next to him. I can’t help myself and I allow my hand to gently touch his face. I can notice a smile flourishing in the corner of his mouth, but before I manage to retract my hand, his one is on top of it, keeping it still. He shifts and turns toward me, bending his leg underneath. Before I manage to move, he grabs my head in his hands and pulls it towards his. I can feel his lips on top of mine, probing them. I know this is wrong and I try to stop them, but I suppose I’m not convincing enough. His hands move and they cheekily slip underneath my top. I can feel my skin starting to warm up under his touch. ‘Please Paul, we can’t do this,’ I whisper weakly protests in his ear. ‘Shhh, I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, sweetheart,’ he mutters whilst pulling me closer towards him. But he doesn’t stop. Do I really want him to? I don’t know; if I did, perhaps I should push him away. But I don’t. With feverish hands he pulls off my trousers and then his. My knickers and his boxer shorts follow soon after, flying to the floor. He’s on top of me now, gently forcing my legs open. I make another pathetic attempt to prevent this from happening. ‘We shouldn’t …’ but I get cut off by his mouth which is trying to squeeze the last huff of breath out of me. ‘Oh God, I’ve missed you so much,’ he groans as he pushes himself inside me. And I know there is no way back now, not for me anyway. I clinch my arms tightly around his neck and it’s me now begging him not to stop. ‘I won’t sweetheart, I won’t.’ I can feel his breath growing heavy on my neck. It doesn’t take long; moments after, my mind disintegrates into zillions of sinful particles whilst I feel him exploding inside. Perfect timing, as it had always been. We rest for a minute or two in each other’s arms. He’s the first to get up and put his clothes on. I move and start looking for mine, but as I’m putting them on, I feel my head spinning and I need to sit down again. God, what have I done? ‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’ Paul squats down in front of me, taking my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. What is the matter? What is the fucking matter? Whops, sorry, I forgot you don’t like me using the ‘f’ words. ‘It’s not lady like,’ you told me off once when you caught me swearing my head off to Mark. ‘For God’s sake, stop fucking telling me what to do,’ I had just launched my missile trough the phone line to my interlocutor when you - I didn’t hear you coming - entered the kitchen. I’d told him so many times before to stop reminding me what a fucking stupid idiot I was for sticking with you since you – I admit, I must’ve instigated the idea myself - were only using me for sex. Ha, as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same thing! You were so absorbed in your lecture you didn’t even ask who the beneficiary of my verbal abuse was. That was good of you, I must say. Because if you’d known, you would’ve grabbed the phone and given him more f’ing and blinding yourself, I’m quite positive of that. And what have you just done now? What Mark did to you back then you’ve just done to George: screwing his bird behind his back. Pot calling the kettle black, eh? ‘I’m sorry, Adi, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,’ His eyes are scrutinising mine. I wish I could believe him. Perhaps I would if I didn’t notice that grin in his eyes, something I’ve seen once before: he’s just scored again. I remove his hand from my face and stand up. I need to go to the bathroom to clean myself up. I just hope we haven’t stained Tina’s sofa. I look around just to make sure I don’t leave behind any incriminating evidences. The scene looks clear, I can’t say the same thing about my mind though. When I come back, Paul’s standing by the window, looking outside. He turns around when he hears me and moves forwards. He puts his arms around me, hugging me close, and presses his face against mine. ‘Don’t be like this, Adi.’ – I feel just like the weather outside, miserably damp, and I think it shows – ‘We haven’t done anything wrong,’ he whispers comfortingly. Oh Paul, you really make me laugh sometimes. I’m not sure if George, or Joanne, or Tina would quite agree with you though. It’s not like I’m blaming you, you didn’t force me to do anything. I don’t know, my DNA chain must be infested with some defective genes that prevent me for staying faithful to one man. With Mark I managed to find an excuse, I didn’t know at the time I was so important to you. But now it’s different, George has laid everything at my feet: his feelings, his money, his trust without asking much in return. And this is how I repay him. See, there aren’t any excuses here. There are facts though: I love you and I, just as before, can’t resist you, stupid me. That’s why the guilt is fought by the cosiness I’m feeling standing here, cuddled in your arms We only part when we hear the entrance door opening. ‘Hello, we’re home!’ Tina shouts from the hallway. I can feel my face burning as they enter the room; I bet it has the colour of a lobster immersed in boiling water. Of course that doesn’t escape Tina. I tried to avoid her inquisitive eyes by taking Vicky from Craig and asking her about the new toy she’s got in her hands. ‘Adi, will you give me a hand with the shopping, please?’ Tina lures me into the kitchen. I wish I didn’t have to, but I can’t refuse her. I pass Vicky back to Craig and I grab Paul’s untouched cup of cold coffee and follow her. ‘Adi, what have you done?’ she asks, shutting the kitchen door behind us. ‘I haven’t done anything,’ I say weakly, making myself busy washing the cup in my hands in the sink. ‘Look at me,’ she insists and I really hate that. ‘Promise me you haven’t done anything stupid.’ I don’t think she’s too fond of Paul, she doesn’t trust him. And that’s since she popped in to see me in hospital one evening – it was quite late, but she had been busy that day and couldn’t come earlier – and found Paul there with me. ‘What’s he doing here?’ she asked when Paul left the room to get some coffee. ‘Nothing, he’s just come to see me.’ ‘This time at night? I didn’t know they’ve extended the visiting hours.’ ‘How about you?’ I laughed. ‘Or you get preferential treatment because you work in care yourself?’ ‘Don’t get sarky with me, Adi. It’s different, I’m family. You can barely call him a friend.’ ‘He’s Vicky’s dad,’ I defended Paul. ‘And?’ she shrugged and shook her head irritated. ‘Does that automatically give him rights over you as well?’ ‘Oh, just leave him alone. Jesus,’ I rolled my eyes, ‘he just wanted to see me, hardly the crime of the century, is it? He’s just concerned, that’s all.’ ‘Yeah right,’ Tina didn’t let it go. ‘Does George know about it?’ Luckily Paul had just entered the room and I didn’t have to answer that. ‘I haven’t done anything,’ I bring myself up to confront her eyes this time. I don’t think she believes me though. I’m not too good with lies and I can feel this one lurking all over my face. ‘Can I go now?’ I try to evade her resolute inquest. ‘Vicky and Paul will have to leave soon, they’re already late.’ I make a move towards the door when she calls me. ‘Adi.’ I turn around; more questioning I assume. But it’s not that, it is something else that makes me feel even worse. ‘Please, don’t hurt him. He’s a good man, he doesn’t deserve it.’ I gulp and stare at her speechless. She has no mercy and sticks the knife in even deeper. ‘Don’t throw away what you’ve got, Adi. You would regret it for the rest of your life if you did, believe me.’
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||||
Next item
|
|---|