Chapter 18
I had never been fortunate enough to go and meet a girl expecting to get a bit of hanky panky. Of course, if the opportunity arose I seldom turned it down, I’d have been a fool not to with looks like mine but I still figured it would have been wrong of me to meet Rachel with the sole intention of riding her through the bedroom wall. James didn’t see it the same way however.
“A man should always be prepared for action no matter the situation. It’s a pre-requisite that you shape up downstairs. Females are so unpredictable you never know when or where it might happen. Once, my cousin pounced on me at my Dad’s 50th birthday party, right as the cake was being cut, and she nearly choked to death on my bush because I hadn’t clipped it in months. Imagine explaining that one to the rest of the family.”
“Explaining what?” That she choked to death or that you were straddling a blood relative?” I asked, a little sickened by him.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s perfectly legit. She was my second cousin,” he told me before his phone rang and he left to answer it in the bathroom.
It’s sad to admit but I didn’t have the foggiest idea what he was going on about. Later, I had to ask him what he meant by being prepared downstairs, clipping bushes and all that nonsense. Much to his dismay, he was forced to explain that some men shaved their nether regions for aesthetic and practical purposes. It was news to me but he was adamant every man worth his salt took the clippers to their gonads every now and then. What he was unaware of, however, was that I didn’t even own a set of clippers so when he was out the house I decided to follow his advice and did so by borrowing his clippers and depositing a couple of inches of pubic hair into the same blades with which he trimmed his beard.
It wasn’t easy though. His clippers weren’t what I would call a manufacturing miracle. The blades were faulty and kept getting caught in my thatch so my hairs were literally being yanked out at the roots rather than trimmed painlessly. By the time I’d finished I had a patchy and rather unsightly blood soaked private area whilst James had red pubes ingrained into a cherished electrical good. Still, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, which is why I simply placed them back where I’d found them, a little less hygienic than before, and stood proudly in front of the mirror, pleased by a seemingly larger Terence junior. I must admit, there was a sense of irony that I’d spent my teenage years anxious to grow pubic hair only to freely chop it off a decade later.
I only stopped staring at my handy work when the doorbell obtrusively rang and I had to quickly throw some clothes on and belt it downstairs to answer it. Not many people rang our doorbell, except the occasional postman or little shite from the local neighbourhood, so to get a caller early evening had me a tad suspicious. I was right to be as well because when I opened the door Jess was stood in front of it. Initially, I figured she’d come for James, maybe with a knife tucked deep inside her handbag, sharpened specifically for some throat slitting but she said she wanted to see me, to try and make up for what had happened between us. To be honest, I was still a little pissed off with her but not enough to decline her entry into the house, especially when I was on my own and she had a low cut top on.
“I don’t really know what to say Jess to be honest. It’s kind of embarrassing for me,” I told her, acting all despondent.
“I know. I didn’t mean to say what I did about relationships, I know we’re just friends, I was just a little drunk and confused. All this stuff with James; it’s made me wary of men that’s all,” she replied, playing the ‘confused’ line which people tend to when they want a get out of jail free card. I kept quiet, fearing another onslaught of emotions if I had my say. “A lot has happened in the past few years Tel,” she continued. “Maybe, for the sake of our friendship, you and I should start again, get back to where we were before,” she said, hoping to wipe the slate clean, as if it was simple to forget everything that had gone on.
Maybe it was. Granted, there was still an unspoken truth that existed between us but although there was a time when I wanted to tell her I loved her, I wasn’t sure I wanted to anymore. I was changing that’s for sure but perhaps she had changed too or in fact had always been that way and I just looked at her in a different light. I don’t know. Either way, wiping the slate clean was maybe the right thing to do.
“I guess we could,” I said, immediately feeling that it was against my better judgement.
“That’s great,” Jess replied, tenderly placing her hand on my arm, “because I’m really quite fond of you Tel,” she continued, seemingly pushing her breasts out so I could truly take in their magnificence.
Some of my feelings had been clouded by recent developments but there was one which certainly hadn’t. I still physically pined for her. I still wanted to taste her lips, nibble like a rodent on her nipples; just to view her body unclothed would have been like the holy-grail. A sudden shiver ran down my spine as body detached from brain and became fuelled by a ferocious and lustful urge.
“Are you okay Tel,” Jess asked, smiling, almost reading my mind.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” I said, turning away, trying to stand but feeling Jess’s grip on my arm as she pulled me back towards her.
“Are you sure?” she asked, looking hard into my eyes, suddenly becoming provocative and carefree. “Remember…this is a new start for us.”
“Yes but…I thought…as friends,” I timidly replied, unable to believe Jess was offering herself to me on a plate.
“Yes, that’s right,” she said, “just friends,” moving her hand to my thigh and leaning in to kiss me.
My hands trembled. Adrenaline ran through my every vein. This was it, I was finally going to share saliva and possibly make sweet sweet love to the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. I leaned towards her, open mouthed, inhaling her scent. I wanted to smother her, bite her, smell her, bathe her in chocolate and roll her around in hundreds and thousands before licking her clean. I was wild with desire.
As the air between us disappeared and our lips ever so gently met, the bleeding doorbell rang and I shot from my seat, pushing Jess away as I did; panicked at the thought James had telepathically seen my indiscretion and returned for retribution but when my brain sparked to life I realised he lived with me and had the privilege of a key so it couldn’t have been that cousin shagging degenerate. Jess just sat there smiling, rearranging her bra, and seeming satisfied with herself.
There was no one at the door when I opened it but I could hear those little shits from the neighbourhood scuttling off down the street, adolescent sniggers following them as they ran from the scene of the crime. Even though I knew it wasn’t him it was still a relief not to find James standing at the door but the mere thought of him knocked the lust out of my sails and instead of adrenaline and sexual desire, guilt ran through my veins and, as it did, I happened to glance at my watch and immediately remembered my date with Rachel which I was in danger of being late for.
“Jess,” I said, rushing back into the room, “I have to go, I’m late for a…for a meeting.”
“A meeting, on a Thursday night?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s about my new job, with HR. I’m so sorry. You know, for anything else, I wouldn’t do this. I mean, I wouldn’t leave…us the way we were but I have to go, I just have to,” I said, trying best not to lie.
“I understand Jam…I mean Tel. I understand,” she said, realising the mistake she had made. “Sorry, I just had his name in my head because I thought he was here,” she continued, apologising. It was justifiable but I still didn’t like that it had happened. It didn’t sit right with me. “Maybe we could pick this up some other time,” she asked, teasing me with a smile and sensually but purposefully kissing me on the cheek.
“I…, I’d like that,” I answered, gulping down the disbelief as she left and I watched her walk down the path wondering why I wasn’t calling her back, grabbing her by the waist and taking advantage of a
woman I had spent countless hours visualising in her underwear. Just watching her move had my groin aching but I thought of James and I thought of Rachel and realised I owed it to myself to go and meet her.
When I arrived at Mars Lounge Rachel was sitting in an old fashioned leather couch, straight backed and sipping a tall glass of water. I knew there was a communal fear amongst women of turning up to a date on time so to see her quietly waiting, simply watching the world go by, was a pleasant surprise and, I have to say, she looked extremely lovely. She had this elegant high necked, sleeveless polka dot dress on which went down to her knees. There was only a modicum of flesh on show but the outfit enhanced her womanly frame, making her look sexy in a classy and dignified manner, only hinting at what was underneath. She also wore this polka dot band around her hair which near enough knocked me off my feet because I’d always had a thing for women with bands in their hair. I don’t know when or where it started but I go all goose bumpily when I see a woman wearing one of those things so to see Rachel with one strapped to her barnet had my skin dancing in excitement.
“Terence, lovely to see you,” she said, rising from the couch and shaking my hand. I was glad she took control because I didn’t have a clue how I was supposed to greet her. If it was an official date, I might have given her a hug and a kiss but we’d only met once before and I was still kind of in limbo as to what the hell our get together actually was so a handshake seemed reasonable.
“Hi Rachel, you look lovely,” I replied, eager for her to know I appreciated the effort she had gone to.
“Ahhh, thank you Terence. So do you,” she said giving my black shirt, dark blue jeans and brown shoes the once over. “Would you like a drink?” she asked, stealing my line.
“Please, let me get them. I insist. What would you like?” I replied, being all debonair and gentlemanly, reverting to tradition even though the lines between men and women had been blurred for a long time.
“Oh that’s kind of you. Maybe I could have a white wine?” she answered softly and so off I trotted to the bar in my brown leather shoes, bought especially for the occasion, barely managing to return to her without screaming in pain as the blisters began to kick in.
“Thanks Terence,” she said, taking a sip of the house white. “I’ve never been in here before. It’s very trendy isn’t it,” she exclaimed, looking around the bar with a thoughtful eye.
“Yes, I guess it is. It’s not really a place I would normally come to but it’s the first that came to mind. I don’t mind it on a quieter night but at the weekend it’s a bit pretentious. Everyone walks around in the dark with their shades on trying to be cool,” I answered, aware that I had become very nervous.
“Ha ha, yes that sounds about right. I briefly dated a guy who loved this place.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” I quickly replied, taking my foot out of my mouth.
“No, no it’s okay Terence. He was a bit pretentious. I don’t know why I dated him really. I guess you’re allowed to make some mistakes in life right?”
“Yes, of course you are,” I mumbled, suddenly realising how out of my depth I was. I guess I’d kind of underestimated her appeal before. I mean, we’d met in the formal setting of an interview, dressed in work attire; she’d even called me Mr Taylor at one point; so to be in a social setting with her, discussing our personal lives and wearing what would be deemed ‘normal’ clothes caused quite a shock to the system. It dawned on me that this girl was used to dating hunky, fashionable, shade wearing lothario’s who drank at Mars Lounge. She wore elegant fitted dresses with bands in her hair and drank white wine. What would she want with a guy like me who was more comfortable being at home watching DVD’s, drinking orange squash? Maybe I’d misjudged our situation. It wasn’t a date after all. It really was just to help me settle in to my new work although, as soon as I figured that out, I fancied her even more.
“So, are you looking forward to starting soon,” Rachel asked, almost reading my mind and confirming we were there for work purposes and nothing else.
“Err, yes of course,” I said, struggling for words.
“We’re looking forward to having you. I think you’ll like it at our place. Marketing should really suit you.”
I just nodded and sipped my beer.
“Are you okay Terence,” she asked, wondering why I was being a bloody mute.
“Yes, yes, of course I am. I just….sorry, I guess I feel a bit nervous, like this is another interview or something. I don’t want to say the wrong thing again,” I replied, truthfully.
“Ha ha, don’t worry. This isn’t an interview. You already have the job. Work don’t even know I’m here,” she said with a smile on her face, putting me at ease and taking me right back to square one.
After she said that we chatted quite openly. Rachel was more than forthcoming with information about her life, family history and all that personal stuff but in-between found time to ask questions about me and seemed generally interested when doing so. It was nice to have a fall back conversation in the way of our common love of The Sopranos but I never seemed to need it with Rachel, the words eventually sliding off my tongue like sugar off a spoon.
“Okay Terence, tell me…what was the last book you read?” she asked, shuffling in her seat until she was comfortable.
“Oh, good question. I should read more I know that. I tend to be more of a magazine reader shamefully but…let me think. It was…the…oh that’s it, it was The Five People You Meet in Heaven but I wouldn’t be able to tell you who the author is. It’s dreadful not knowing that isn’t it?”
“Not really. I forget as well, unless it really sticks in my mind for whatever reason,” she responded, seemingly unable to find fault with me.
“What about you?” I asked.
Rachel chuckled shyly, “You’ll probably laugh.”
“No I won’t, I promise.”
“Well, I’ve always had a thing for a certain author and find myself reading his books over and over again”, she answered, almost apologetically.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I still like Roald Dahl and he writes for children,” I replied, eager for her to continue sharing her life with me.
“You’re kidding,” she screamed, moving forward in her seat, flashing a bit of leg as she did so.
“There’s no need to mock me.”
“I’m not. I was going to say Roald Dahl! I love his books. I finished James and The Giant Peach yesterday. I know it’s childish but I just love them,” she exhaled, talking fast, excited to find a fellow Dahl lover over the age of twelve. “I can’t believe you still read his books,” she continued happily, almost to herself.
“It’s a small world,” I said, smiling; glowing in fact, elated at her reaction.
Not many people understand it when an adult still finds happiness in something from their childhood so it was delightful to be in the company of someone who did. The last time I had been so open about my literary selection was on my first day at University, in a circle of highly sophisticated book worms, who had cruelly sniggered and mocked my views, which is why I changed courses not long after and never spoke of Roald Dahl again.
I was at ease with Rachel and as we went deeper into the night the attraction towards her grew, not just physically but very much emotionally as well. Not only was she beautiful in her appearance but she seemed beautiful on the inside too and stimulated my mind in a way that I’d never known before. Fair enough, it didn’t take much to stimulate my simple brain but I didn’t feel the need to be anything other than myself with Rachel, merely saying what I thought and being honest without fear of judgement. She seemed to get me, which is a hell of a cliché I know, but it made me happy nonetheless.
She even fell about raucously laughing when the conversation turned to massages and I told her about my one terrible experience. Some people would have convulsed at the thought of a man dribbling over the masseur
’s plimsolls but Rachel whole heartedly cackled, only stopping when she was hit with an attack of the hiccups.
However, she turned deadly serious when, for the first time, I openly admitted what had happened to me at Clays. She actually used the word deplorable and urged me to take the matter further but I shamefully told her about the contract and how the scum bags had bought my silence, believing my hands were now tied and admitting that it would be on my conscious until my dying days. However, being from Human Resources herself, she was eager to stress that what they had done was illegal, not to mention immoral and their behaviour was something the authorities and the newspapers would be interested to hear about. Further down the line it was advice I would indeed heed and act upon but I didn’t want to talk about Clays that night, not when it was far more interesting to learn about the woman sat opposite me.
Although I thought about her in a devilishly sexual manner - I would have been mad not to - it wouldn’t have upset me if all we ever became was just friends; such was the joy I received from her company. Of course, as we chatted late into the night I hoped for more but if it wasn’t to be then I was content to have at least found someone new to call a friend, one who understood things about me not many did, even if we had only met on two occasions. It’s probably the reason why I didn’t try anything with Rachel; I wasn’t prepared to ruin a true bond just so I could see her bra looking sorry for itself around her waist, that’s if she was foolish enough to let me.
Our night ended when we were cleared out of Mars Lounge at one o’clock. It was a school night for Rachel so she decided it was best to take herself home which was sensible of her but disappointing all the same. I would have been more than happy to carry on and, strangely for me, would even have gone dancing if she’d ask, despite having the grace of a baby rhino on the dance floor. Instead I walked her to the taxi rank, dodging half eaten kebabs and pools of sick along the way, before we turned to face one another for the last time that night.
“Thanks for a wonderful night Terence,” Rachel said, a wide smile spreading across her face.
“And thank you. I haven’t enjoyed a night like that in…well in a long time,” I replied, trying to think of something witty to say but failing.
“Me too. It really was wonderful,” she said warmly before wagging her finger and saying, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about what Clays Bank did to you though. I’ll be sure to pester you to do something about that when you start work.”
“Yes, I thought you might,” I replied, hoping she would so we could spend more time together. “Here you are,” I said, trying to look chivalrous by hailing down a taxi even though we were stood in the taxi rank. I opened the door and Rachel, with one hand on it, turned to face me again.
“So, I guess I’ll see you soon then?”
“Yes, I guess so,” I said, wanting to say more but scared to.
“Thanks again for a wonderful night,” she said, repeating wonderful for the third time, then slowly leaning towards me and softly kissing my left cheek, lingering there for a couple of seconds before pulling away, whispering a goodbye and getting in the taxi which quickly accelerated away into the mist.
That was a magical moment for me. I still get goose bumps just thinking about the rush of feelings as her lips touched my skin. It wasn’t sexual like you might think, in fact it’s very hard to explain what it actually was but there was this uncontained excitement for the future. I was thrilled at how the night had gone, elated at the feel of her soft, smooth lips gently resting on my cheek and, more than anything, wild with wonder at what would become of us.
It could be said the stars had aligned so we could meet that day at SBL Marketing. Maybe everything which had happened to us before was meant to lead to our meeting. Who knew, I’m not sure I believe in all that mumbo jumbo, but I did know that the minute she left me I missed her.
I managed to resist the temptation to text her for all of half an hour but it was literally the first thing I did when I walked through my front door although, this time, I wasn’t in two minds over whether to or not, I just did it, never questioning how it would be received.
I just wanted to check you got home safe and say thanks for such a fantastic night. x
I added a kiss because, if truth be told, I truly felt like I wanted to, as a way of showing my affection.
I’m home safe thanks Terence. I really enjoyed tonight. I hope we can do it again very soon. Night xxx
I left it there. There was no need to send a hundred texts and then try to decipher the meanings of her response or lack thereof. I was quite happy with her single reply, after all, only nice things were said so why did I need further reassurance from her. We would eventually find out what the future held for us, whether it was merely as friends or more than that but either way I went to bed that night exhilarated and energised by the prospects. And you know what I dreamt about that night? That god damn band around her hair. Boy, that band knocked me for six, it really did.