скачать книгу бесплатно
‘I’ll be right down,’ he called, easing himself off the bed and into an upright position. It always took a few minutes after a sleep or a nap for his muscles and brain to start working again; he assumed it was the tablets.
He used the bathroom, combed his hair and checked his face in the mirror before carefully making his way downstairs. Before he’d become ill he’d taken the stairs two or three at a time, but now, aware of what a fall could mean, he made his descent slowly using the handrail. He resented that he had to approach everything with caution and trepidation but for the time being it was unavoidable. As he entered the living room Mitsy ran to him again, panting and wagging her tail, asking to be made a fuss of. Jacob ignored her and crossed instead to Eloise.
‘Good to see you home,’ she said warmly. She knew not to throw her arms around him until his chest was fully healed, so instead she smiled and looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to slip his arm around her as he’d done in the hospital. But he didn’t – he briefly kissed her cheek and then sat in one of the fireside chairs. Elizabeth had come into the living room in time to see her son’s dismissive greeting and the look of disappointment on Eloise’s face.
‘Let’s draw up this chair so the two of you can sit together,’ she said, pulling the matching armchair from the other side of the hearth.
Eloise flashed her a smile of gratitude as together they positioned it as close as it would go to Jacob’s chair and Eloise sat down.
‘Do you want anything, Jacob?’ Elizabeth asked. He shook his head. ‘Eloise, another tea?’
‘No thank you.’
‘I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Dinner won’t be long. We’ll eat just as soon as Andrew returns.’
Eloise smiled and thanked her again, then turned to Jacob. He was gazing into the fire that danced in the magnificent inglenook fireplace, part of the original house and now only lit on special occasions or when they had guests staying.
‘So how are you?’ she asked him after a moment.
‘Fine,’ he said without taking his eyes from the fire. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m good, thank you, but it’s not me who’s had the heart transplant.’ She gave a small nervous laugh. ‘Pleased to be home at last?’
‘Of course.’
‘How’s the pain today?’
He shrugged. ‘I just take the tablets if I need them.’
She moved a little closer and rested her hand gently on his arm as she had done for hours and hours in the hospital. ‘How are you feeling in yourself?’ she asked, aware he had been feeling low at times.
He shifted, finding her intensity uncomfortable. ‘OK,’ he said. She seemed to expect more but that was the trouble with women – they expected you to expose yourself, pour out your feelings and vulnerabilities as they did.
There was silence as the fire crackled.
‘I left the teaching assistant to dismiss my class so I could leave early,’ she said, making conversation.
‘Good,’ he said, which seemed to please her. She smiled and, taking his hand in hers, kissed it tenderly.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she said.
‘I’ve missed you too,’ he agreed. This was clearly the right thing to say for she beamed at him and kissed his hand again.
Thankfully his father arrived to save him from further conversation. Eloise and he greeted each other with a warm embrace and cheek kisses as they always did. He asked her how she was and how her journey had been and then he went to wash and change, ready for dinner.
Conversation over dinner became easier as he didn’t have to talk much at all. Eloise and her parents did all the talking and he appeared to have been excused, he assumed on the grounds of health. They chattered away non-stop about day-to-day trivia, small talk about nothing in particular, which they seemed to thrive on. He didn’t know how they managed it. All that polite tattle that filled the gaps between eating and seemed to bind them together. Had he ever been part of it? He supposed he must have been, although he couldn’t remember doing it with the enthusiasm they did. He felt like a visitor or alien from another planet as they prattled on, Eloise about the changes in the school curriculum and how it would impact on her teaching and the class’s learning, and his father about the village bypass. He was on the committee and had attended a meeting in the village hall that afternoon – lots of fogies trying to feel important. And as for his mother, she managed to create a storyline out of collecting him from the hospital which he really didn’t appreciate. He frowned. Perhaps he was jealous? Was he envious that they could share this warm comradeship of conversation that eluded him? He’d be the first to admit that he didn’t have anything to tell them, that since his illness and then the operation his life had stopped, and he had nothing new to say. All he could contribute – had he wanted to join in – were remarks about being a patient which they were only too familiar with. But that would change just as soon as he was completely fit and well.
He excused himself from the table straight after pudding at 8.30 on the grounds he was tired – they understood. His mother fussed around him and asked if he needed help undressing, which was embarrassing. Then she produced the plastic pill pot already containing his night-time meds together with a glass of water for him to take up to bed. He called a collective good night to the three of them as he went up the stairs, and guessed they’d probably start talking about him as soon as he’d left the room.
Chapter Nine (#ulink_0b2fc33d-c72f-5a93-8a2c-679beded2a5a)
‘Jacob’s very quiet,’ Eloise said, her brow furrowing with concern. ‘He’s hardly said a word to me all evening.’
‘Nor to me,’ Elizabeth said gently. ‘But it is only his first day home. Everything must seem very strange, and he’s recovering from a huge operation. It will take time.’
Andrew agreed, and Eloise knew she mustn’t take Jacob’s attitude personally. She remained at the table talking to Andrew and Elizabeth for nearly an hour and then they transferred to the living room to watch the late evening news on television. At 10.30 Eloise kissed them both good night and made her way upstairs. They were lovely people and made her feel so welcome – more than Jacob had done tonight, she thought, but quickly dismissed this as unkind and selfish. Of course it would take time for him to adjust and recover. She assumed he wouldn’t be visiting her room tonight.
Quietly crossing the landing so as not to wake Jacob, she entered the guest room that had become hers. It was comfortable, with a single bed and a faint smell of jasmine from the reed diffuser Elizabeth had placed on the chest of drawers. Over the last few years – since she’d begun staying – this room had gradually become her home from home, and she kept a toothbrush and toiletries in the small en-suite bathroom, and a change of clothes in the wardrobe. She felt relaxed and at ease here, not only in this room but in the whole house.
She washed, changed, and then, yawning, climbed gratefully into bed. The end of the school week was always tiring with the children excitable at the prospect of the weekend, and tonight she’d met heavy traffic on the way over too. But she was here now and there’d be plenty of time to unwind and de-stress over the weekend. She wasn’t returning home until after dinner on Sunday as she had often done before Jacob’s operation. But this time when Elizabeth had telephoned to check she would be staying the whole weekend she’d been concerned.
‘Are you sure it won’t be too much trouble with Jacob just home?’ she’d asked.
‘Don’t be silly, of course not,’ Elizabeth had chided warmly. ‘It will do Jacob good, and you know I always appreciate your company. You already feel like my daughter-in-law.’
This had pleased Eloise immensely. She had always got on well with Elizabeth and had come to feel she had a place in their family, assuming, as Elizabeth did, that one day she really would be her daughter-in-law. Jacob had said as much before his illness – ‘As soon as we’ve saved enough for a deposit on a home of our own I’ll propose.’ So it was an unannounced engagement where they’d implicitly promised themselves to each other and lived their daily lives in the comfortable knowledge that they were a couple. And while their plans to marry had been put on hold with the onset of Jacob’s illness, Eloise had no doubt that once he’d recovered and returned to work, their plans and saving would continue and reach fruition.
With these happy thoughts as bedfellows, Eloise quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. She was fast asleep, lying on her side, when the door to her room silently opened and then closed again. She didn’t stir. The room was pitch black; at the rear of the house there were no streetlamps, just meadows where cows grazed. Outside a thick cloud covered a moonless grey sky so even though her curtains were parted no light shone in.
The first she knew that someone was in her room was when a hand covered her mouth and she woke with a start. Then his familiar breath, hot on her cheek as he hissed close to her ear.
‘Sssh. Be quiet or they’ll hear you.’ It was a moment before he removed his hand.
‘Jacob, you scared me to death,’ she said, turning to him. Her heart was still pounding from the shock. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to my room?’
‘A surprise,’ he said, and climbed into bed beside her.
She moved over to make room for him, propping herself on her side to look at him. Her pulse began to settle. Jacob eased himself onto his back and she snuggled close, draping one arm over his stomach, well away from the angry scar on his chest. He’d lost that clinical smell which had pervaded his room at the hospital, and now smelt of his deodorant and the fabric conditioner Elizabeth added to the laundry. She breathed it in, homely and comforting.
‘What time is it?’ she whispered, enjoying the warmth and intimacy of his body. It had been a long time since they’d had the opportunity to lie close.
‘Twelve-thirty,’ he whispered. ‘My parents are in bed and asleep.’
‘I thought you were asleep too,’ she said with a small laugh.
‘I’ve been waiting for them to come up so I could visit you. Just like old times.’ He picked up her hand that was resting on his stomach and placed it on the outside of his shorts.
‘Jacob!’ she said surprised. ‘We can’t, can we? Not yet?’
‘Why not?’ He pressed her hand onto him and felt him stir.
‘You’re not well enough, are you?’
‘Let’s put it to the test,’ he said roguishly. He eased off his shorts and then curled her fingers around him, growing firmer under her touch.
She assumed he wanted her to masturbate him as she had done when he’d been too ill and weak before the operation to make love properly. He’d touched her too, although she hadn’t got much pleasure from it. A large part of making love for her was the warmth and weight of his body on hers as they moved together as one. But she appreciated that men were different in their sexual wants and needs, and it had helped restore some of his confidence – his masculinity, he’d said.
‘He may need a bit of encouragement,’ Jacob said, moving her hand to work up and down the shaft of his penis, before reaching out and switching on the lamp.
‘Jacob!’ she said, startled. She blinked into the light.
‘That’s better. I need to see.’
He threw back the duvet so he could watch properly, see her hand on his dick, but the movement was too delicate.
‘Harder. Faster,’ he said, and gripping her hand showed her what to do. How he would have liked to have shoved it in her mouth as the bloke on the film he’d watched on his laptop had done, but he didn’t think she was ready for that, not yet. Not prim Eloise. Next time, he promised himself.
He was big now, he could see how big he was, and getting bigger by the second. Hard, proud and bold as the blood coursed through his veins. He was standing to attention as he hadn’t done for a long while. Watching her hand move up and down was adding to his pleasure. ‘Take off your nightdress,’ he said, tugging at it.
She didn’t and her hand lost some of its firmness. ‘I need to see you,’ he said again urgently. Why didn’t she understand? He tugged harder, yanked at the buttons at the top of her nightdress and they gave way. She gave a small cry, presumably of pleasure. Women liked forceful blokes, didn’t they? He roughly pulled the nightdress from her and rubbed his hand over her breasts and then down between her legs, making her cry out again.
‘Sit on me,’ he demanded, tweaking her nipple. ‘It’s the only way I can have you.’ While this was true, more importantly it was part of the image he’d nurtured all afternoon, having downloaded it from the internet. The very thought of the picture fuelled his pleasure.
‘Sit on me,’ he said again, pushing her body down the bed and towards his crotch.
She was hesitant to begin with, resisting a little. Playing hard to get. But with another firm push she did as she was told and sat astride him, knees bent. She was clearly reluctant to open her legs really wide and display herself to him as he would be able to see everything, and with her legs as they were, he struggled to get himself in. Taking hold of her knees, he forced her legs wide apart, as wide as they would go, and then with one good hard shove he was in. She cried out again and so did he. It was fucking ecstasy! He looked at his dick fully inserted in her opening and at her breasts with their large reddening nipples. Grabbing her hips, he moved her up and down to show her what to do as he began thrusting, as much as he was able to with the mattress below and his chest muscles complaining. But each thrust was sheer pleasure and as she grew moister it became easier. His pleasure raged and he could feel his new heart beating wildly, faster than it had before. Briefly he wondered if it would stand the strain; they were really pushing it now, testing it to the limit. But he felt his heart was on his side and willing him to succeed and if he didn’t, what a way to go!
Up and down, up and down, the usually conservative Eloise glued to his dick like a stuck pig. Was she enjoying it? He couldn’t tell and he didn’t know or care. If she wasn’t she’d just have to put up with it, for she was staying there until he’d finished, for sure. He needed this, his heart did, and as he couldn’t lie on her, or she him, she’d have to stay astride him, riding on his dick. He grabbed her nipples and began twisting them, hard. She cried out and tried to push his hands away but he held on tight; he was past the point of no return. He watched her face contort as he pulled and twisted and thrust as hard as he could, harder than he’d ever done before in his life. The gradual build-up to the moment, the absolute height of pleasure, and then stillness as he discharged into her.
‘Jesus! Fucking Jesus!’ he cried out. And in the room next door his father woke, convinced he’d just heard the devil.
Chapter Ten (#ulink_84c62daa-770d-5cce-8240-7701706d28d7)
‘Good to have you back,’ Eva said as she and Rosie took their places at the cashier’s counter of the high street bank. ‘I’ve missed having you here.’
‘Thanks.’ Rosie smiled. ‘It’s good to be here again. I hope I can still remember what to do.’
‘You’ll be fine. Nothing’s changed. Are you free for a quick coffee after work? I’ve got some news I’m dying to tell you.’
Rosie hesitated and then realized she didn’t have to go straight home any longer. ‘Yes. I’d like that.’
‘Great. We’ll chat later. Here we go, ready for the onslaught.’
It was exactly 9 a.m. and the deputy manager was unlocking the main door ready for business. A small queue had already formed outside and as soon as the door opened it quickly dispersed itself at the counter of cashiers. Rosie smiled and said a bright good morning to her first customer. She was pleased to be back at work – another step towards normality. She’d taken two weeks off after Shane’s accident. She was due some annual leave and she’d told her boss that she needed it for personal reasons. As well as clearing out his belongings, she needed time to recover and come to terms with what had happened – and hopefully move on. Her mother had suggested she stay with her for a while but Rosie felt she needed to stand alone to prove to herself that she could, that Shane no longer had a hold over her and she wasn’t afraid of him any more.
While Shane had been in the hospital, she’d sent him a letter saying that if he ever came near her again she’d call the police. That night, Rosie had called out the local locksmith and had the locks on her flat changed, so that if upon his recovery Shane did try to visit, he’d find himself unable to enter. Once the job had been done she’d felt an overwhelming sense of relief. At last, her flat was safe. Now all that remained of Shane was in her head and she knew it would take time before he left her completely, if he ever did. She was trying hard not to think about him, to shake off the moments of panic that gripped her when she thought about him coming out of hospital, perhaps angrier than before. She’d told her mother a little of what had happened but not all. Some things – the sexual things he’d done to her – she couldn’t say. She’d found it a little easier to share this with a group for survivors of domestic violence she’d joined online. The anonymity helped and of course they were on the same page as her, having experienced similar or worse. There were two men in the group, which surprised her; she’d never thought that some women could be as evil as men. But while the group had helped, ultimately she knew her full recovery would be down to her. Clearing out the flat and going back to work was the next step.
Mondays were always busy at the bank and the time flew by. As she dealt with each customer’s request or inquiry her confidence grew, and by lunchtime she was starting to relax. Eva was on a different lunch break to her so she went out for a short walk and a breath of fresh air before returning to the staff room to eat her sandwiches and make a cup of tea. Other colleagues who didn’t know her as well as Eva were there and they asked her if she’d had a nice holiday and seemed pleased to see her back. Their kindness touched her. It was a pity she hadn’t been able to confide in anyone and ask for help when she’d needed it. She still felt responsible for letting Shane into her life and allowing the abuse to continue, although the online survivors group tried to reassure her it wasn’t her fault.
At 4.30 the deputy bank manger locked the door, and they cashed up, shut down their terminals and packed away for the night. An hour later, she and Eva called goodbye to their colleagues and left the building. The coffee shop was a short walk up the High Street and they settled with their drinks either side of a corner table where they could talk without being overheard.
‘Rosie, I’m pregnant,’ Eva announced with a huge smile as soon as they sat down. ‘I did two tests at the weekend and they were both positive.’
‘Oh Eva, that’s fantastic,’ Rosie said. ‘Congratulations! I’m so pleased for you both.’ And she was genuinely pleased. She knew that Eva and her husband, Syed, had been trying for over a year for a baby.
‘Promise you won’t tell anyone at the bank yet,’ Eva said. ‘I’m going to wait until I’m three months.’
‘I promise,’ Rosie said.
Eva shared her plans – to take a year’s maternity leave and then return to the bank part time as they needed her income to pay their mortgage. Then her attention turned to Rosie. ‘But enough about me. How are you? Do you want to tell me what the personal reasons were that suddenly made you take time off? You know it won’t go any further.’
Rosie looked carefully at her friend. How easy it would be to tell her the truth but then she’d have to live with her shock and sympathy and she didn’t want that. She was trying to move on.
‘The guy I was seeing had an accident – wrote my car off.’ She paused. ‘We’re – we’re not together any more, so there’s been a lot going on in my life. It was all getting on top of me. I just needed a break.’ She shrugged, trying to be casual, and took a sip of her coffee.
‘OK. I can understand that. So he’s out of your life for good?’
‘Yes, completely.’
‘A carefree singleton. Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that!’ Eva laughed.
‘I’m in no rush to start another relationship now,’ Rosie said. ‘So how are you feeling?’ She was anxious to steer the conversation back to safer ground. ‘No morning sickness?’
‘No, not yet, but I won’t mind if I am sick. I mean it’s all part of being pregnant and will be worth it in the end.’
‘Absolutely,’ Rosie agreed, and they continued talking about Eva’s pregnancy.
Once they’d finished their coffee, Eva said she’d better go as Syed would be home soon and she wanted to have dinner ready. They left the coffee shop together and then went their separate ways. Rosie was returning to an empty flat but she didn’t mind, not at all, for empty was far better than having Shane waiting for her. She’d started to relax again in the flat; she could watch some television, listen to her music, then go to bed without being in constant fear. Every night, she went through a little ritual of checking the doors and windows were locked and that there were no shadowy shapes lurking in the street. But every night, she saw nothing. It looked like Shane was leaving her alone. And once she’d saved up enough she’d buy herself another car.
Chapter Eleven (#ulink_9d2ea456-3590-5250-b988-c464db35074a)
Elizabeth had telephoned Eloise on Sunday to see how she was, but her call had gone through to voicemail so she’d assumed the poor girl was still ill in bed. She’d left a message saying she hoped Eloise felt better soon. She waited until midday on Thursday before trying again; she knew how irritating it was to keep having to answer the phone if you weren’t feeling well. This time Eloise did answer.
‘Hello, Elizabeth,’ she said quietly.
‘Hello, love. How are you? Feeling a bit better?’
There was a pause before she replied. ‘Did Jacob tell you I was ill?’
‘Yes of course, love. When Andrew and I returned on Saturday and found you’d gone we were obviously concerned. How are you feeling now?’
Another pause. ‘Better, thank you.’
‘Good. What was it? The flu? Jacob didn’t seem to know.’
‘I’m not sure. But I’m all right now.’ Her voice sounded flat.
Elizabeth hesitated. ‘Are you really all right? You sound a little … I don’t know … a little subdued,’ she said, for want of a better word.
‘Yes. I’m all right.’
‘Well, that’s good. It was fantastic news about Jacob’s test results, wasn’t it? He hates those biopsies but it’s so reassuring to know there’s no sign of rejection.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I have to go. I’m on playground lunch duty.’
‘Oh, OK. I’m pleased you’re feeling better. See you at the weekend then. Will you be coming Friday night or Saturday?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’
