Dare to Love (30 page)

GRANT! His memory’s a thunderclap in my head. I said I’d text when I got home. He’ll be worried. I retrieve my handbag from the lounge and check my phone. Two missed calls; five new messages. One call’s from him and three of the messages.

‘Call me please,’ is all he says in case Richard intercepts. His texts are equally vague to the uninitiated.
Did u land safe? I hear Virgin is very reliable. Call me when u can.

I check the time again: twelve forty. It’ll be eight forty their time. He must be frantic by now. I shut the kitchen door and call him. He picks up on the first ring.

‘Babes, are you OK?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I answer in hushed tones.

‘You had me so worried. I’ve been going out of…’

‘I’m so sorry. I fell asleep almost as soon as I got home. I’ve just woken up. Didn’t realise how tired I was.’ No need to share the real reason I was asleep so quickly. He wouldn’t understand. I don’t quite understand what kind of switch I flicked to go from one to the other so easily.

‘You slept on the plane?’

‘No, kept thinking about you, about last night, I mean the night before, about what we said yesterday.’

‘Babes, I hardly sleep a wink since you left. I’m missing you so bad and you just leave. Don’t know how I going to manage the next week.’

‘I’m missing you too.’ I’m missing him too but not in the same way. It’s always the same; the person who leaves initially misses the person who stays less. They have all the activity of travelling to focus on; and when they reach their destination, there are things to do, clothes to wash, post to open, family and friends to re-connect with. Only when these are done do they begin to feel the loss in the same way as the person who stayed.

‘I can’t talk too much now. Richard’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him. I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m a bit more with it.’

‘What time?’

‘I don’t know yet, I’ll have to see how things work out.’

‘But you’ll call?’

‘Of course. If I say I’ll call, I’ll call.’

‘Love me?’

‘I do.’

‘I love you babes. Don’t forget to call.’ He sounds a little anxious.

‘I won’t forget. Bye.’

‘Bye.’ He sounds disappointed.

I make a mug of hot chocolate and a turkey sandwich and eat it while watching the TV with the sound down. The pictures tells stories of devastation, of famine and political unrest that’s not erupted into full scale war yet but which, by the look on the reporter’s face, he hopes soon will. It will give him something meatier to report, may even get him an award. Journalists, TV channels and arms manufacturers aren’t interested in peace. There’s nothing exciting to report about peace – or love.

There’s an itinerant fog meandering through my head. Nothing’s clear. I’ve just slept with Richard, and I’m going to get back into bed with him. I don’t know enough to know if it’s going to last, there are still things we need to talk about. Whatever work he did with the counsellor hasn’t helped him to relax with fellatio. It’s early days but I had to think about Grant. What’s that about? I didn’t believe him when he told me that’s what he does when he makes love to Mel – think about me. Thought he was just saying that to make me feel better, not feel jealous. He’s so pragmatic about that side of things.

‘I want you for myself Josi, but if I have to share you with your husband for a while till we sort everything out I can bare it, if I know you’re thinking about me.’ Making love with Richard was the furthest thing from my mind then – less than forty eight hours ago.

I don’t want to think about this now. I crawl back into bed with Richard and lie staring at the silhouettes of the furniture. I can slide back into this life as easily as I slid back into this bed. Richard won’t ask me any questions, he’ll just be grateful to have me back. I think about all Grant’s cons. He has so many complications. His children – I’ve raised mine; it would be like having ready-made grandchildren. And all those mothers to contend with. No job, we’d be reliant on my earnings unless he pulls something out of the bag soon. There’s no guarantee of that happening any time soon. He’s rooted in the Caribbean, I’d have to move.

‘It won’t work,’ I say to the dark, hoping for confirmation, like it’s listened to my thoughts and formed an opinion.

‘Huh,’ Richard grunts beside me and throws his leg over mine.

I know that these are fringe fears. My deepest one is that the age gap between us is too great. That when the heat of the summer wears off we won’t have enough in common. What if I can’t keep up with him sexually? What if he’s lying about older women? His babies’ mothers are all younger than him. Mel could be his daughter.

Who am I kidding? This may not be perfect but it’s more secure than anything I could ever have with Grant. And I’m not convinced by the reasons he gave for Carlisle warning me about him.

How will Richard feel when… if he finds out about my infidelity? Will he be as condemning as I’ve been of him? Does he have a right to be? I’ve been so self-righteous. Would it be easier to tell him, even the scores up and move forward together? Can I survive with Richard without Grant in my head? Is it enough to keep him as a precious memory and conjure him up when necessary? I could do that. Keep the colours vivid, keep at bay any creeping sepia. The upheaval of going will be too great.

My vibrating phone draws me out of my reverie. It’s a text.
Don’t want to lose u. I love u
; like he read my thoughts. Leaning on my side to shield the phone, I answer.
You won’t. Love u 2.
Now he’s tapping into my thoughts. Let’s hope they don’t both tap in at the same time, they could be in for a surprise.

The next day we talk over breakfast. The atmosphere feels easier, though there’s still a whisper of fog in my head. He’s had four sessions with Dr Patterson. It’s not been easy. He had to put himself in the place of the boy. It made him sick, physically sick. I tell him it did me too when I saw the pictures. It feels like a bond. Dr Patterson suggested he wrote a letter of apology to the boy, expressing all that he’s come to realise about the way it may have affected him. He’s written six, each one conveying a different thought as it emerged. Did I want to see them? No I don’t. They are
his
apologies. It’s enough for me that he’s accepting responsibility for his action and not hiding behind his alcoholic stupor.

He’s not out the woods yet. He’s still seeing Dr Patterson. It’s been a painful experience but he cares enough about our marriage to do whatever it takes. Can we give it another try?

It’s what I’d hoped for but had almost convinced myself wouldn’t happen. We can begin again, but the last six months can’t be erased, rubbed out without a trace. Our situation reminds me of an Etch a Sketch picture. Even though the picture’s been erased, a ghost remains; held at a certain angle it’s still visible. Like erasing files from the computer, but somewhere they lurk in the system and can be recovered by an expert.

‘Can we give it another try?’ There’s a pleading in his voice that tugs at my heart.

‘Yes. Yes, let’s give it another try.’

‘You’ll move back into our room?’

‘Seems like I have already.’

He looks so happy, like he’s just won the lottery.

My phone rings. It’s Grant. My heart’s pounding but I let it ring. There’s a text.
Babes, don’t give up on us. I love u.

‘I’ll answer later,’ I tell Richard. ‘People want to know if I’m circulating yet.’ He takes the day off and we go to lunch in Nottingham. An Italian Bistro we both like. I get another text from Grant while I’m in the toilet.

Babes, what’s up?

I’m not giving up on us. Love u 2. Trying to work things out here.

Call me soon
, he replies.

Richard feels like a merry-go-round, gentle lifts and a safe ride. Whichever horse you sit on, the ride’s essentially the same. A life with him will be one of constantly changing horses – holidays, dinners, lunches, BBQs at friend’s houses, discussions about retirement and pensions, about timeshares and holiday homes. Grant offers me a big dipper. Amazing highs and I’m sure some crashes. With him my stomach churns with excitement, I’m breathless with the intensity of our encounters. He’s the master of the ride, the ticket collector, the lever operator.

The next day I’m officially back at work. All my clients tell me how well I look. Whatever I soaked up is glowing through me. They assume it’s the sun. Only my friend Cindy guesses there may be something else.

‘This isn’t just sun, girl,’ she says when we meet for coffee after work. ‘Who is he?’

‘A nice memory,’ I tell her, closing the subject.

I call Grant in my lunch break.

‘Hi babes. Waz up?’ He sounds laid-back, the anxiety of last night gone from his voice.

‘You sound good, where’re you?’

‘On the beach, in our spot, thinking about you. Where’re you?’

‘In the office, it’s my lunch break.’ I’m back there with him in an instant. ‘What’re you wearing?’

‘Just my black trunks. What d’you want me to be wearing?’

‘You know you look good in anything. I love you in anything and in nothing.’

‘Girl I missing you so much. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.’

‘Oh you’re such a romantic,’ I tease but I feel the ache in my arms too.

‘You missing me?’

‘Of course I’m missing you.’

‘How are things with your hu… with Richard?’

‘He’s OK.’

‘You tell him about me yet?’

‘Not yet. I’m waiting for the right moment. Have you told Mel about me?’

‘No but she sense something change in me since you leave.’

‘Does she think it’s to do with me?’

‘No, she think I’m getting more depressed because of my work situation, she think that’s why I don’t want sex with her.’

‘But it’s only been a few days.’

‘But while you was here I only wanted you. Josi, I still only want you. What’s happening with you and Richard?’

‘What do you mean?’ I know exactly what he’s asking me, we’ve agreed to be honest with each other, but I’m stalling for time.

‘Josi, you have to be upfront with me.’

‘We’re talking. Things are more relaxed since I got back. It’s easier to be with him because in my head I’m with you.’

‘You make love with him?’

Why does it feel like such a betrayal to tell my lover I’ve made love to my husband? Yet he’d been honest with me about Mel. I know how jealous I was and don’t want to put him through that. But would I have preferred it if he’d lied to me about her and I’d found out later?

‘Yes,’ I answer without any other explanation.

‘Did you think about me?’

‘Yes.’ I hear his smile.

‘Just so long as he know you only on loan. That no one can make love to my woman like me. You know what I want to do to you now?’

‘What?’

‘I want to take you to a deserted wood. Lie down a blanket because I know how you hate bugs. I want to open your buttons and take off your blouse.’

‘Oh I’m wearing a blouse am I?’

‘I want to reach behind your back and unclip your brassiere so I can expose your juicy mangoes, your ripe succulent, tasty mangoes. I want to wrap my lips round your nipples and suck and nibble and chew. I want to kiss your flat belly, run my tongue round your belly button. I want to push your skirt down over your hips. Pull your panties down. I want to spread your legs wide and feast my eyes on your pussy. Then I want to feast my mouth. I want to lick you slow, flick your clit with the tip of my tongue. I want to eat your pussy till your legs wet and my face covered in your juice. By now my cock so hard, so hungry I just want to push it straight in, but I want you to enjoy it. I hold back and find your hole. I glide in slow, feel your pussy hug me, stroke me, say Hello Grant, good to have you back. I want your pussy and my cock to dance. Lovers rock, old-skool, dancehall, hip hop. Then we move to calypso. I want you to wuk up pon it. I want when I push it hard you go ‘aaahh’. I want you to scream my name, to scratch my back. I want you to explode with me, over and over and over. Oh God Josi, I want you. I just want you… Babes, are you there?’

I’m slumped in my chair, wet and exhausted.

‘Yes I’m here,’ I rasp.

‘Babes, you still want me?’

I don’t know if he means do I want more of what he’s just done or if I still want to be with him.

‘Grant, that was amazing.’

‘Did you come?’

‘Yes. How did you do that? You’re thousands of miles away and I need a change of underwear.’

He laughs. ‘If I was there I could help you.’

‘If you were here I wouldn’t bother.’

‘When we going to get…?’

‘Any luck with work yet?’

‘I talking to a guy about a project in Grand Cayman. He pretty sure it going to happen, he just can’t say when yet.’

‘Would you go?’

‘Of course, if it mean I can get out of this situation.’

‘What about Darron?’