Just Like a Woman (24 page)

Her body shuddered as she remembered the incredible sensation as more of the previous night returned to her. His penis in her mouth, Stephanie licking between her legs, her tongue going deep inside her. Robert had his head and mouth buried in Stephanie’s groin. Even as his face turned away, he told her he loved her.

She felt hot breath on her face, smelt an unfamiliar scent on Stephanie’s breath when she whispered in her ear how beautiful she was. The amazing truth of it thrilled her; they covered her with their bodies; their bodies entwined to the degree she had no idea where her body ended and theirs began. She had no idea whose lips traced down her arms and legs, she didn’t care whose tongue licked her breasts and back. She felt so happy. Two people she loved, loved her. She had been so frightened when Robert led her upstairs.

After the brusque manner in which they left the lounge, he had been kind in the bedroom. He suggested she should use the bathroom first, leaving her to get into bed while he was in the bathroom. She was shocked when he walked towards her, naked. She had never seen a man naked before. She had seen photographs, but never seen one in the flesh. Photographs had not prepared her for what she saw. She pulled the duvet up to her chin. She moved away from him as he approached her and recoiled from his touch as his legs nudged against hers when he got under the covers.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing?’ She answered.

‘Well come on then. Come over here.’ He opened his arms to receive her.

She tried to move towards him, but her body refused.

‘Oh for godsake.’

He got out of bed, and walked over to the dressing table where she had placed the glasses. Walking back, she stared at him again, watching his penis flap between his legs. She had wanted to laugh then. They appeared larger in photographs.

He handed her a glass.

‘Drink some of this, and relax. You don’t have to be here. D’you want to stay in the spare room?’

‘No, no,’ She said taking the proffered glass. He got back into the bed beside her. And while she sipped her drink he gently kissed her shoulder and neck. She gulped the rest of the liquid down, wanting to feel as she had down in the lounge.

The touch of his hands on her body made her feel good. She reached over to put the glass down and while her back was turned he undid her bra, then clasped her breast in his hand. She bit her lips when he touched her, and this time did not allow herself to pull away; she wanted this, she told herself. When she turned to face him he kissed her again. Not the gentle kisses she had imagined but hard forceful kisses, leaving her a little frightened. He reached down and pulled off her pants then took her hand in his. This time she couldn’t stop herself and tried to pull it away as he directed it down towards his penis. He held on firmly, wrapping her hand around, forcing her to hold it.

Now she had heard him say he didn’t like her. She let the memory of his voice in her ear come back with full force; she heard him saying he loved her. She saw him look to his side. He wasn’t looking at her as he said it! He was looking at Stephanie, as she lay beside them in the bed. He loved Stephanie. Sarah sat down on the cold tiles to cry. Except there were no tears. She wanted tears, but none came. Her heart was broken, but there were none. She didn’t believe it. He loved her not Stephanie.

He loved her.

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Chapter Four

S
tephanie turned the music up on the car stereo. It had been a great night; better than she dreamed of. It had been worth it. Except for Robert! She sang along with the song and wondered if Sarah would contemplate an evening out with her, without Robert. He irritated her, annoyed her and he had nearly ruined everything. Her skin itched with his touch, she rubbed her back up and down the car seat trying to eradicate the itch. A fox ran out in front of the car and she swerved to miss it. She knew she shouldn’t really be driving, but she couldn’t face getting a taxi and going back to pick up her car. She wanted to remember Sarah, and seeing Robert first thing in the morning was not what she wanted.

Looking back in her rear view mirror to check on the fox, she noticed car lights behind her. She checked the time. 3.45. Who else would be up at this hour? God, don’t let it be a copper! She checked her speed, then shrugged and started to sing once more. She’d be home in fifteen minutes. She bet whoever it was had not had as much fun as she had.

She was surprised by Sarah’s behaviour, expecting her to be more resistant, but it was as if she was starved of attention, of love. Next time she saw her, she was determined to find out more about her, to actually listen to what she had to say, or get her to say something about herself. Especially about those scars on her body. They also surprised her. She thought Sarah had led a sheltered life. How on earth had she got all those scars? Oh to hell with it, she felt too good to be bothered by it all now. She didn’t have work tomorrow, having taken the day off to enjoy the night, she certainly wasn’t going to spend time thinking about someone else’s problems. Though she was intrigued by Sarah, and genuinely wanted to know more about her. Just not now.

She had never cared about a client before; letting them talk but not really listening to what they say. Christ if one of her clients turned up and she didn’t have her notes, she wouldn’t remember a damn thing about them. It worked better that way, she was convinced, they didn’t become dependent on her for sympathy. Not that many of them got sympathy anywhere, they were all such losers. But they paid her bills. Robert and Jane were right, Sarah was different. And she wanted to know more.

Indicating to turn off the road, she noticed the lights still behind her, but singing aloud to her music, nothing was going to stop the good feeling she had.

She pressed the button and the driveway gate swung open, the lights overtook and she noticed once again it was a white van. Coincidence; there were hundreds, thousands of white vans; more white vans than any other car on the road. Pulling into her drive the security lights came on and she couldn’t deny the slight sense of relief when the gate whirred shut behind her. A large strong coffee was what she needed she decided, getting out of the car. She listened for the dogs to bark, but only silence greeted her.

Turning the key in the front door, she still couldn’t hear the dogs; usually if she had been out, they would come bounding to the door to greet her.

‘Flotty! Gypsy!’ Silence followed her voice. She tried again, knowing if they hadn’t responded the first time, they wouldn’t respond at all.

‘Flotty? Gypsy?’ She called not quite so loudly, walking along the hallway towards the kitchen. At the door, she stopped. Listened. She could hear nothing, and it was too dark to see. Standing in the doorway, holding her breath, she reached around to the light switch. The light showed the kitchen was as ever, spotless, nothing out of place. She walked in slowly. Her hand now reaching into her handbag for her phone. She wanted to call the police, but what would she say? Her dogs weren’t barking? Her dogs hadn’t come to greet her? The lazy hounds. Walking around the table she saw them. Fast asleep on the floor.

‘Hey you two, wake up. I’m home.’

They still didn’t move. She shouted in her angry voice, ‘Flotsam! Gypsum! Come on, wake up, you lazy dogs.’ No movement. Stephanie stared hard at them.

They couldn’t be! Placing her phone on the work surface, she crouched down, balancing on her toes, her hands outstretched to touch them. They were warm, and as she stroked Flotty her chest heaved in and out, and she let out a long sigh. She was fast asleep. Turning her attention to Gypsy she saw she was also asleep. She could hear her breath, feel it on her hands. Stephanie slapped her on the side, not hard to hurt her, but trying to wake her up. Gypsy moved her head over to one side, her eyes flickered for a second and then she resumed her gentle breathing.

Fear gripped Stephanie. Her whole body rigid with it. This couldn’t be Robert, she had just come from his house. Who else would do this? Who else would want to? He was desperate to have her back, she knew that. It was why he irritated her so much. His desperation. Cloying and sticky. It made her feel sick. It was so annoying. He’d followed her before, made a real nuisance of himself until she’d had to go to court. But she’d dealt with him. She was sure she had him under control now. He wouldn’t jeopardise what they had going. No, it couldn’t be him. So who else?

Her whole body jumped and she toppled over on to the floor when her phone vibrated and beeped at the same time. Holding her breath again, she stood up and grabbed it. A text message. Robert no doubt.

‘u shouldnt leave ur dogs alone so long xxx’

Anger fuelled her. She didn’t recognise the number. How dare he involve her dogs? What had he done to them? She typed ‘what have you done?’ And pressed the send button hard. She didn’t expect a reply, but needed to vent some of the anger. Her phone beeped.

‘sleeping pills be gone in morning sleep tight xxx’

‘Sleeping pills,’ she screamed to herself. ‘Sleeping pills. How the hell did he get into the house to give them?’

The phone beeped again. Looking down at it, she could see it was the same number.

‘ps hope you like the flower’

She looked around the kitchen but couldn’t see anything.

‘What flower?’ She yelled at the comatose dogs. She walked around looking at everything. It all seemed to be ok.

She didn’t know what to do.

The thought of phoning Robert was at the front of her mind, but she didn’t want him to know. Maybe she should tell Cammy about it. She knew she ought to tell someone. But she didn’t want to. If she spoke to someone she would be admitting it was getting to her. Whoever it was had now got into her house, and somehow convinced her dogs to eat some pills. She walked over to their bowls. It looked like fresh mince meat. They would have both loved that. But why did they let this person into the house? It must be someone she knew. It had to be. Even more reason not to tell anyone. God it could even be Cammy. Playing a joke on her?

Without thinking what she was doing, she picked up the dog bowls to wash them. Standing at the kitchen sink, she felt tired and weary deciding she needed her own bed. She was so cross but felt too tired to express it. It had been a great night and now it was ruined. She needed to sleep so she could think what to do next. She threw the bowls onto the drainer and with still wet hands grabbed her phone again. She wanted to send a final text message; then became even angrier because she couldn’t think of anything to say.

Calling him a bastard was not very satisfying. She really just wanted to throw the phone on the floor and stamp on it hard, but that would only hurt herself. Instead with great deliberation she turned it off.

Walking from the room to the stairs to go to bed she called him all the names she could think of out loud.

‘Fucking arsehole, fucking shitty little prick. Little prick was right, only someone with a very small dick would behave in this manner. Fucking, fucking, fucking…’ Not used to swearing, her creativity wore off.

In the bedroom the anger turned back to fear. A single large white flower adorned her bed. It was a flower she associated with funerals and weddings and had no idea what it was called. A big waxy flower with a large yellow stalk like thing coming out of the centre. She hated them. Phallic symbols. Repulsive. She wished for the first time she had a bed in her spare room. Somewhere she could go, rather than staying in here, knowing he had been in here; been in her room; touched her things; probably went through her drawers. Oh god, he must have been all over the house; every room; contaminating everything.

Tears ran down her face, and her hand shook as she took hold of the flower between finger and thumb and threw it in the bin. Then going to the window she opened it wide, picked up the bin and emptied the contents out of the window before slamming it shut. When Robert had pursued her, she could deal with that; she knew it was him; and with the divorce and a good solicitor she dealt with him.

But this! She had no idea who it was, no idea what to do, no idea what he wanted. She brushed the tears away, but more took their place. Leaning against the wall, her knees gave way and she slid to the floor sobbing, all her self control and strength gone.

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Chapter Five

R
obert had been surprised Sarah wanted to leave that early. He’d been worried he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her once Stephanie was gone. But when he returned to the bedroom sometime after Stephanie had left, he found her freshly showered and dressed, asking if he could kindly arrange a taxi. She had even made the bed and tidied the bedroom.

Stephanie would be proud of him, he made her a cup of coffee while they waited. Not even waking Terry to do it. It was only instant though.

Watching her leave he was unsure of how he felt. She looked so small and she didn’t smile at him. In fact she didn’t actually look at him. Last night must have been too much after all. Stephanie may just have got this wrong.

He thought over their conversation in the kitchen while they waited for the taxi to come. She barely spoke, just either nodded or shook her head, depending on what he was saying. She did ask when it would be convenient to come back for her car. But without any hint of asking to see him again. Her eyes looking at the floor all the time. There was none of the affection he was expecting after last night; none of the adoring questions and demands. She didn’t ask him to call her. She said nothing about the future at all. It was only five days till Christmas, and she had hinted last night that they should be spending it together. As if!

Shutting the door after she was gone, he felt in need of a swim and walked towards the pool forgetting all about her. He’d have breakfast after the swim, he decided. Looking at his watch he was surprised to see it was only 5.00 am. He was wide awake. He thought of waking Terry to make him something to eat now, but decided he’d wake her after his swim. If he woke Terry now, he’d have to speak to her and look at her, and he wanted to concentrate on Stephanie’s memory, even the memory of Sarah was not too bad.