I stood frozen. Numb to reality. The stars were beautiful. Like
diamonds glistening in the ink sky. So pure and unspoiled. A mist, from my breath,
framed the night’s jewels, as the cold bled through my body. Hands in my coat
pocket, I knew this was not the way I should be standing, a lady on her own, in
the middle of nowhere at night, my self-defence teacher would have a fit, as
she used to lecture us, on how to stand. With our back against a wall, hands
ready, with thumbs tucked under our fingers and feet slightly apart. There were
no walls, just fields. My fingers would have dropped off, if I did not have
them in my pockets and as for my legs? I couldn’t even feel them.
If someone did attack me, I would not be even able to scream, as I
felt as though my face had been filled with rat poison!,
How on earth was I going to say hello to this guy?
Why on earth did I agree to meet with him here?
I mean, it went against everything I believed in.
But I didn’t want him knowing where I lived and where I live, is the
problem. There is no public transport after five pm.
We were to meet at night, at seven, though it was eleven minutes
past by that point.
I would for sure not get home, as there were no busses at all in the
evenings.
I didn’t drive and taxis would not come out so far as where we
lived.
I say we, because I live with my Husband of eight years and our
daughter who has just turned four.
They are safely out of the way tonight; Greg took Libby to see her
Granny and Gramps. I made my excuses and was left to be unwell on my own, well that’s
what Greg thought.
What was I thinking? I mean, I am only a twenty seven/eight minute walk to some sort
of civilisation, but, our village is a blanket of suffocation into other people’s
lives.
Oh, my nerves cannot take much more.
Then my phone rang. I looked at the number on the mobile, it read
“Steve.
I think my brain was frozen too, as I just looked at the screen, not
answering. Not being able to press except call or talk. I mean, I could not be
able to say a word. I would just sound so unattractive my face was so cold.
This was not how it was meant to be. I was to be so romantic. Our
first meeting.
All these months on the net, writing to one another. Me laughing
with him, reading his beautiful words telling me how good I made him feel. How
important I was, me, important? Not just Libby’s Mum, not Greg’s wife and
housemaid, but important to someone intelligent like Steve.
We had not even spoken on the phone and the first time he called me,
I couldn’t answer the blooming phone.
Scared I guess, scared of rejection. Hearing more words saying he
was unable to pick me up like what we planned. Afraid to have to walk back
home, to an empty home, feeling a fool.
I guess it would have taught me a lesson?
OK, I decided to turn on my heels and head home.
Just then, I heard the heavy fast footsteps. Coming my way. Oh my
God? There were no cars in sight, no people apart from whoever were following
me. Not even a house I could knock on the door to ask for help?
My heart was beating in slow motion. My legs were about to stop. I
could not walk. The air in front of me was pushing me backwards. Then it
happened.
Slam and crunch. As I fell into a bad part of the track, a place
which led to the lane towards my house.
I fell and hurt my ankle. Oh God, I was going to die, I would never
see my little girl again. Who would feed the dog as Greg was away for the whole
weekend?
How would I meet with my death? A bang on the back of the head? A
knife? Would I be dragged? Forced into a car at the top of the avenue?
Then as I tried with no hope, to stand, the footsteps drew closer,
slowed down, oh there were no street lamps at that part of the road, perhaps he
had not seen me? I would keep still and let him walk past.
Then I felt it, a hand on my shoulder.
A face lowering down towards me!
Then the words.
”Are you alright love?”
As he bent down to look at me, the silver moonlight allowed me to
see the shape of his face and his kind smile.
He asked,
“You’re not by any chance Leia, are you?
Leia Tamzwell?”
Oh, God, it was him, it was Steve?
“Steve? Steve Denby?”
“Yours truly, God love, let me help you up?
I put my hand around his shoulders and his strong arms supported me.
He lifted me up like I was a feather. I felt so safe, so warm and so so, loved.
I could not remember the last time I felt like that in a man’s arms.
Not even when my daughter was being conceived. Not even the dark dreadful,
December day I gave my Husband his daughter.
How I was going to walk, an look normal? Was beyond me.
Oh my God, it was so embarrassing, an yet, I felt relaxed. From the
fear I felt some moments, previous, to that moment in time? It was his way, his
manner, his gentle caring persona .
I could not remember the last time I felt like this, I guessed it
was when I was a child and my Father picked me up as I fell on some horrible
gravelled path. I hurt then so much, but my Father made it all right!
Would Steve make it all right for me?
He had a lot of fixing to do in my life.
My Husband was a cruel man; he married me when
I was just seventeen. I lived in the city then; I had lots of friends, a family
and a spark about me.
When we married, we moved here, into his Grandfathers cottage. A
cold damp and I swear haunted place of living.
As for the ghost/ghosts? If
not his departed Grandfather, it could be his Father, who actually died five months
after Gregs Grandfather... As for the women in Greg’s life? I was not allowed
to ask questions about them. All I knew was they were not at our wedding, I met
his Father briefly, he came for the wedding but did not stay for the reception.
Why? Another mystery. But the man left me cold. Greg said it was because of the
death of his Grandfather, his Father
just went into a depression, but to be
honest, though I was a very early bride, my young years on this earth, taught
me that Gregs Father, did not seem to be the type of person who would allow
himself to suffer from depression.
To have depression, one would think one should have a heart and for
sure he had his removed at birth; in I’m sure, what would be an extremely complicated
biopsy.
An orange lamp shone through the old flaked front window of the
cottage. A window which showed years of
neglect. The cobbled path leading to the door of the house, barely
closed. Rattling in the February night, the echoes of the lid, flapping, on the
old coal bunker in the back alleyway seemed like it was chasing us away, but
where to go? As we approached the front door, no key needed, as the door had
been broken for at least the latter two years of our daughters life, the
doorbell hung from wires too. It was one of those ancient bells, the ones with
the hanging chimes. On our door we had a heavy iron door knocker, in the shape
of a lion’s head. We didn’t really need a doorbell, not with our dog Sammy. A
mouthy Collie, with a cautious need for approaching him, but a caring thing,
once you got past the front door. He would lick you to death, but I never told anyone that.
When Greg was out on the fields
some two acres away and beyond, I felt the fear of the silence of country life.
As I felt ashamed, entering the front hallway, as there was no difference between outsides frost and the
bitter bareness of the stone walls inside.
Not even a warm carpet met us, greeting Steve. A neglected bare
wooden floor was the first thing Steve saw. He asked me where I would like to
sit? I thought for a while, wondering
what room I was happy with Steve seeing?
I indicated to the kitchen. In there, the floor was as cold if not more so, but I could turn on the argar.
The floor was slate, I scrubbed it that day, and tried to keep Sammy in the yard
most of the day, so it still looked very clean. There were limited work surfaces.
And right there, stood this huge argar
of a cooker. Greg used to sicken me as he would use that, to place the rejected
baby lams in until they dried out? Oh I hated cooking in there, no matter how
many times I cleaned it out.
The rustic bread board lay on the old oak table and the wobbly
chairs were placed around it, so precise. With the exact gap, between each one.
On the windowsill was a vase of freshly picked snowdrops, they
looked pretty with the frost for their background on the window. Framed by the
floral curtains I had made the year before. In the corner of the room, was a
top loading washing machine and a cuddly toy on the top, I had washed for Libby
to take to her Grandparents. Oh I thought, she will never sleep tonight? I
wanted to run to her, scoop her up and bring her home, but I could hardly walk
and I had a guest.
Steve asked me where our emergency first aid box was?
I looked at him feeling ashamed for the fourth time, since meeting
with him just ten minutes before. He looked up at me, as he was removing my
shoe and said,
“I guess you have one Leia?
I gestured towards the cupboard under the old green sink, which like
everything in my cottage had seen better days. Greg would say in a boastful voice,
“That’s a Belfast sink? The best you can ever get?”
I never was, or never will be convinced on that one.
I’m sure that is what his Grandfather used to tell him as a child,
and his Grandfathers father before him.
The gentle attention in which Steve cared for me was simply beautiful.
Almost hypnotising me into falling deeply in love with him.
I was enjoying this state of mind so much.
I asked him if he would like for me to put the kettle on and make
him a drink? He said, no, you sit there and I shall do it? Oh God, wait until
he found out how he was to put the kettle on?
I looked towards him, with a hopeless expression upon my face.
Just then, I heard a diesel sound. Sammy barked blocking out any
voices that may have confirmed who it was?
Oh God, it would be Greg, as Libby would not sleep without Bobbins,
her teddy bear. Oh my God? I felt sick, cold and absolute fear.
With my foot fixed to the best
that was possible, I used the walls to lead me to the front door. I
opened it and stood there, was Max, the guy who fixes the tractors on the farm.
“Sorry to bother you L, but Greg asked me to look at the top tractor and he didn’t
leave me the key, so if I could just grab it and I will make a start at eight
tomorrow morning, I wont’ bother you early then?
“ Oh, em, sure, ah, well, I shall grab the two bunches of keys and
hand you them all; I don’t know what key is what?
Well I know, just let me in and have a look. Save me taking all of
the keys?”
“Oh no, it’s OK? I shall bring them to you!”
Max looked at me, he knew, he knew there was something up. I prayed
to God, that Steve would stay out the way in the kitchen.
I opened the cupboard in the
hallway and handed two lots of keys to Max.
He gave me a suspicious look and walked off.
I closed the door, oh God, I wish it locked?
I had to get Steve out of there.
I told him, I could not see him again. I said I was married, as he
already knew and said I could not bear the stress if my Husband found out?
He looked so sad, he looked as I felt.
No more sun in my dark days. No one to talk to online. No one to
tell me I was special, I was loved and I was worth waking up for.
A life’s choice. A continuation of this cruel prison.
My heart was torn and my life was ripped.
I was to pay the price. My life was to be in hell. My heart and
soul, was to be in the arms of Steve. Am I a fool after all?
As Steve left the cottage, he turned to me and held my face in his
hands.
”You and I have something wonderful. Something that the stars have
in their plan for us. You shouldn’t fight it Leia. Follow your dream, don’t
live like this? You have my number and email if you change your mind. No one has
ever made me feel like the way you make me feel?”
Just then, he lent down, and kissed me.
As he pulled away, I wanted more. I wanted to shout to him,
“God, I’m wrong, I have been a fool,. I wanted to pull him back into
my arms. Oh God. What to do?
No comments:
Post a Comment