Exploits (22 page)

And I flee, hiding my smile, into my bedroom where I close the door and flip on the light switch. After closing the curtains, I strip off my work clothes and hastily pull on charcoal skinny jeans and a black and white shirt. I'm thrilled that I'm wearing phenomenally sexy black undies, spritz on my perfume (I have expensive taste, but don't tell anyone or they might run for the hills screaming),
and slide my feet into flat black pumps. I pull out my hair clip and let tendrils of long waves cascade around me, I check my reflection and dash back out before bloodshed ruins my carpet.

I smile at Marty and sidle up to him, slipping my hand into his, "Ready."

Then I smile at Neville. "Thanks for stopping by to check on me."

I want to laugh as Marty takes control of the awkward moment, leading me by the hand as he picks up my keys on his way out the door. He stands and waits at the gate, staring pointedly at
Neville, "We're in a bit of a hurry."

Neville is obviously reluctant, but walks out, stops and stares down at me. I can't read the expression he's giving me. He takes my free hand, holding it, "I worry about you."

He shoots a quick glance at Marty who is now pointedly clanging the gate shut and locking it, but watching him all the same.

"Have a good evening." And he's gone.

But I do notice that he's waiting for proof that we're leaving. I so badly want to burst out laughing. There's a laugh-fest just screaming around in wild dorm-party mode in my chest, but with immaculate composure and restraint, I walk sedately with Marty to his car, let him open the door for me, pause and loooong kiss, hmmmm, such a fantasy-fest! And I settle into the car which has, thank God, tinted windows, so the spy can't see what we're doing in here at night.

Marty stares, contemplative, out of the window at Neville's car after he settles into the driver's seat. He turns and smiles that "’Can your heart feel this?’ smile at me, running an elegant hand up my thigh. Hmm, he smells nice. I see he shaved just for the occasion too.

"My place?"

I smile back, "Sure, if you're up to it. Sorry but ..."

"I don't need an explanation." The ignition turns and his car purrs with affection back at him. He looks at me as he puts it into first gear, gifting me with a wink, before deliberately accelerating too close past Neville's waiting car, down into the darkness of the street, "Just have to get two things on our way."

"What do you need?"

Mr Melt smiles at me again, wickedly, "Ice-cream and smokes."

He has a knee repelling smile. One smile from him, with the twinkle of mischief from his eyes, just makes female knees repel each other. Hmmm, I wish I had a smile with that much power.

Cue song: SBI 'Seeing Stars'.

Chapter 28

Adios

I couldn't take it. After two weeks of intense observation of every single person walking towards me, driving past me, parking in my road, I was close to cracking. I couldn't take the tension any longer and decided to get crazy.

I waited until the office was almost deserted at lunch time when I picked up the phone and dialed Fuhquim.

"Hello."

"If you want me dead, just do it."

Strangled with mental anguish, my throat closes and I cringe at how pathetic I sound.

"What the fuck are you on about woman?"

"Gary, someone told me you'd taken out a hit on me. I can't handle it. Just tell me where to be and I'll be there."

He starts laughing in my ear. "I wouldn't waste the money on you."

I choke, in denial, angry at what I'm hearing.

"Woman, I derive far too much pleasure waiting for you to fuck up your life. You can't handle life on your own. Don't call me again."

Click.

The sheer relief overwhelms me. I fumble for my cigarettes and take an accelerated Charlie Chaplin walk straight outside. I hide on the steps, smoking, wanting to cry with desperate relief that my life has been hell for two weeks. For nothing.

Thank the stars I have a reason to get rid of Neville dogging me closer than my own flipping shadow. Five tears avalanche down my face before I rein in my emotions. I still have half a day
of work to go before I can indulge in some relief wallowing. I think going out, getting shamefully drunk, and not wearing a bra doing it, is in order.

Selene is my number one groupie. Followed by James. We are closer than fingers. And tonight, my people are taking me out. I'm going to be irresponsible and I'm going to love it.

The thing is, Mr Melt is a photographer, often away on assignments. Most weeks I am free, and spend my weekends with him. We squeeze in as much time together as we can. He's not the jealous, possessive type. I guess my adoration and Professor Kiss worship is transparent.

That, and the fact that he often surprises me with his spies, Ted and Lindsay. Lindsay finally got over whatever issue it was. All it took was her seductive smile to break the ice. We laughed at each other, without either of us having to explain, or apologise, for whatever it was we'd done.

(See? Men think it's them only that have these issues with women. I still don't know what I've done. But yes, I'd be willing to apologise to kiss and make up.) We're back to normal, and I'm relieved. It has been two weeks of tension that could support a tightrope walker.

That night, I get very,
very
,
very
tipsy. But I feel safe with James. And Selene is almost as bad as Michelle when it comes to being the evil eye that keeps the predators away. Finally my life is back to perfect. Back on track, the roller coaster magnets are on full throttle. Perfect.

* * * * *

Perfect, for two whole months. I've found Nirvana and it's incarnated as Mr Melt. But then Mr Melt drops me on a Saturday. In a space as tight as a book and its binding, we are perfect.

We have a routine, I'm so in love I am already thinking marriage, when he picks me up on a Saturday morning, takes me home, covers my skin in kisses and nibbles, takes me for a scenic tour of the outer galaxy, lays back down next to me and tells me, "I'm leaving the country the day after tomorrow."

An invisible force has my throat and I’m struggling for breath. Someone is going to make haggis with my innards and they've started gutting me without my permission, and without a body I can see. I can feel the pain ripping through me. I can't breathe. I've suddenly become asthmatic.

Why?

Marty sits up and looks down into my face, propped on his elbow. He reads my eyes like an iridologist and starts kissing me. Deeply. As if somehow this can give me air. My flame is snuffing out, my heart just stopped, no kiss in the world can restart what has just been stolen from me. He's trying to love my hurt away and all I can think is, Why?
Why
?
Why
no warning? Why surprise me with it two days before he leaves? I'm hoping I am misunderstanding him and gasp.

"For how long?"

Please let it be an assignment.
Please!
I've done nothing wrong. I've given him all the freedom he needs. I've never demanded anything from him. How can he not feel what I'm feeling? He seeks me out. He's so tender and warm with me.

I've seen him with other people and his eyes are so different when he surveys the world. But when they catch my gaze, they soften, shooting celestial sparkles at me. You can't fake that. What did I do to chase him away?

"Years. Permanently probably."

He hasn't packed. His house still looks the same. I'm wondering if he's lying.

"What about your stuff?"

"I'm packing it all tomorrow. The movers will be here on Monday morning to collect everything."

"Where are you going?"

"Spain."

"Why?"

"I got a permanent job there and I have family
there."

I stare up into his beautiful eyes, feeling robbed. I should be savouring every second but I can't, because I'm feeling so bereft. The grieving has already started. I don't get out of that bed. I stay in it, keeping him with me, trying to squeeze in a lifetime supply of Marty before he takes me home.

When he leaves my home, we kiss. It's the longest, most heartbreaking kiss I have ever endured. I love him. I keep the tenuous hold on my tears until he leaves me. The final good-bye; the last fingertip touch.

I wait for him to drive away and begin dissolving like ice-cream in a thunderstorm. I cried for the rest of the weekend. It was the last time Lindsay, Ted or I ever heard from Marty.

I never ever said, ‘I love you’ to him. But I did. He was, and always will be, Mr Perfect.

Cue song: SBI : ‘Like Rain ... I miss you like rain ...’

… Pause …

…
Play ...

There is nothing here for me now. Nothing. I can no longer handle living close to the devil's spawn, Fuhquim. I sell everything I own, after
giving in my notice at work. It's time for this little sparrow to fly.

I've put my clothes into storage, and
have a job lined up in the big wide U.S. of A. as an au-pair. I love my friends but without love, without him, something went with him when he left. An essential part of me disappeared: the part that knew how to derive pleasure and joy from life. I can't find it anywhere. And I've decided to go looking for it. I'm taking a leap. I have nothing to lose.

The build up at work is traumatic. The girls burst into tears walking past my desk. Selene has an address book she's made everyone write in for me to stay in touch. It's an affectionate and aorta-tugging farewell.

Our usual crowd go out for ladies’ night. But the magic is missing. The gloom of my impending disappearance mars the festivities.

Instead, we all just end up recklessly drunk together, crying, telling each other how much we love and will miss each other.

Only one more day of work and my days here are done. The following day I'm due to go to the embassy to fetch my visa, flight out is the following day.

It's been three long months, without a word from Marty. I've stopped hoping. He was the longest one night stand I've ever had. I don't regret it. For those months I was truly and vibrantly alive. More than I have ever been, or will be. Oh, what the heck, I'm not trying to get you to understand. You won't. Just take my word for it.

I have the hangover from Hades and I'm not the only one. The office is subdued. My shoulders slump further as my phone rings.

"Stefanie speaking, how may I help you?"

"I want to meet for coffee. I need to see you one last time before you go."

I'm going to hurl.

"Why?"

"Please?"

Long pause as I think about why the hell I should.

Another soft, plaintive, "
Please
Stef?"

Closure? Is this finally closure?

"When? Where?"

"My place. After work." I swallow with difficulty.

I hate him. I only hate him because I will always love him and he makes me nervous as a flat-lining heartbeat.

"Okay."

Whispered, "Thank you."

Click.

My heart has somehow split into two halves. One half in each ankle. It's an odd and painful sensation. It also means that my brain can't function. I feel blindfolded and as if I'm now running only on instinct and I need a smoke.

I stand up, "Smoke break."

My eyes don't want to focus. My adrenalin is surging and my heartbeat is racing to catch up with the speed of light.

"Are you okay?"

I mumble back to Selene, "No."

"I'll cover for you."

I nod my thanks, snatch my smokes out of my drawer and head outside. Once out there I lean heavily against the stairwell wall.

Just breathe …

Chapter 29

Because You Love Me

With my stomach clogging my throat, I knock on his door. It swings open and I'm graced with a winsome smile.

"Glad you made it. I wasn't so sure you'd come."

I incline my head slightly, still not sure this is the best idea I've ever had, and walk in. I swivel my eyes, looking for clues, and quickly decide that the place is still the same. Everything but the new black leather lounge suite. I wait to follow him into it, sit down, and watch him smile smugly.

"Do you like it?"

"The lounge suite?"

He nods, "Yes."

I think it's too hard and uncomfortable
. "It's okay."

I refuse to be impressed by his material acquisitions.

He leans back and stretches jean-clad legs out, hooking his ankles, reclining, his eyes slide over a more slender me. "It's good to see you. How are you?"