Lust Call (25 page)

‘He would never send the photographs to your husband, Sarah. It was all a game.'

‘Blackmailing me, threatening me, worrying me sick . . . That was a game, was it?'

‘Yes, no, I mean . . .'

‘Who is this man to you? What's your relationship with him?'

‘I've never had sex with him.'

‘I take it that he's not your father, then?'

‘No, no. I live with him, I'm his lodger.'

‘You're his lodger? That rules out Sam. How the hell did you get involved in blackmail?'

‘He fancied you and, just for fun, he started emailing you. Then you started screwing around and he took some photographs. I saw you in the photos and . . . I wanted you. He suggested that I go with him to the fence.'

‘Are there two men?'

‘Not as far as I know. He might have had someone with him, I don't know.'

‘Debbie, you must tell me who he is.'

‘You've been talking to him, that's all I'll say.'

‘When?'

‘Recently.'

‘OK, so it's not Sam. That leaves Barry, Derek, Keith . . .'

‘Can't you work it out?'

‘I've been trying to work this out for ages.'

‘I have to go,' she breathed, climbing to her feet.

‘Wait . . . I want to see you again.'

‘You will, I promise you.'

‘Not through the hole in the fence, Debbie. I need to see you properly. I need to be with you. If you don't live far away, I could see you regularly.'

‘I'm hoping to move soon. I'm not really happy where I am.'

‘When will I see you?'

‘I'll come and see you this evening, at your house.'

‘My husband will . . . No, it's all right. I'll say you're a friend.'

‘I'm more than a friend, aren't I?' she asked, her blue eyes sparkling as she buttoned her blouse.

‘Yes, yes you are. You're much more than a friend. You will come round, won't you?'

‘Yes, I promise you. I'll be there at seven.'

As she left the woods, I felt my stomach sink. Would I see her again? I wished now that I'd not allowed her to go. After straightening my clothes and brushing the leaves and twigs from my hair, I walked out into the alleyway and slipped through Rob's gate. Back in my garden, I pondered on Debbie's words.
Can't you work it out?
Someone I'd been talking to recently? She wasn't lodging with Derek or Barry, so that only left Keith.

I poured myself a glass of wine, flopped on to the sofa in the lounge and thought about Keith. He'd been trying to help me, I reflected. He'd suggested how the blackmailer might have got in through Rob's gate and . . . and slipped into the house and got my email address and phone number. Keith was the culprit, I concluded. He'd made out that he'd been trying to help me, and deliberately put me off the scent by talking about a man with ginger hair.

Again recalling Debbie's words, I felt a lot easier.
He would never send the photographs to your husband, Sarah. It was all a game
. A game that had driven me to adultery, I reflected. A game that had turned me into a bloody lesbian? I'd really liked Keith. To think that I'd opened up to him, confided in him, and he was the blackmailer. The game had also destroyed Sam and Jane's marriage, I mused. God, it was some bloody game.

What the hell should I do? I sipped my wine reflectively. I had to plan something, decide on a course of action. Keith was bound to find out about Debbie and me. Would he tell Dave? I also had Barry to contend with. He'd want sex with me and . . . The first thing I had to do was try to work out my feelings for Debbie. I was missing her already, I thought, recalling her beautiful young body, her pretty face. I'd never felt this way about the men I'd screwed, but with Debbie . . . God, I thought anxiously, recalling my teens when I'd thought I'd been in love. I can't be in love with another girl, surely?

I knew nothing about Debbie. Was she at college or did she work? Why was she lodging with Keith? She was like an angel, I mused, my stomach fluttering, my womb contracting. She was heaven-sent. As I imagined running away with her, I knocked back my wine and leapt to my feet. I was being ridiculous, I thought, pacing the lounge floor. I couldn't give up my home and my husband and run away with a teenage girl.

I was getting myself into a right state and, to make matters worse, Dave came home early and suggested we have a barbecue that evening. He wanted to invite Barry, and I again wondered where he'd slipped off to when he was supposed to have been going to the pub. Joining him on the patio with a glass of wine, I
knew that the time had come to talk to him. He wasn't bad looking, I thought, watching him gulp beer from a can. But, where had our sex life gone? Where had his sense of humour gone?

‘Dave,' I began, wondering what the hell I was going to say. ‘Dave, I need to talk to you.'

‘Talk away,' he said, smiling at me.

‘Since you went to Morocco, I've been thinking.'

‘Oh?'

‘Have you got someone else?'

‘What?' he gasped, spilling beer down his shirt. ‘Of course not, Sarah. Whatever gave you that idea?'

‘Several things. You didn't go to the pub with Barry the other night, did you?'

‘No, I . . . I didn't.'

‘So, where did you go?'

‘I was going to come back here and see what you were up to.'

‘See what I was up to? Why?'

‘It's funny that you should ask me whether I've got someone else, because that's what I've been thinking about you. Have you got someone else, Sarah?'

‘No, no . . . Of course not,' I stammered, wondering what the hell he'd seen. ‘So, did you come home and check up on me?' I asked him.

‘No. I bumped into a chap I used to work with and we went to another pub.'

‘Dave, what did you think I'd be up to? Did you expect me to be in bed with some man or other?'

‘I don't know what I thought.'

‘Why do you think that I might have someone else? What on earth gives you that idea?'

‘Because you've been very different lately. When I got back from Morocco, there was stale milk in the fridge, you hadn't been shopping, the house looked like . . .'

‘I'd been doing the garden,' I cut in futilely.

‘And?'

‘And the weather was really nice so I spent a lot of time outside. You were swanning around in Morocco so I thought that I'd . . .'

‘I was working, Sarah. I thought you wanted to talk?'

‘I do.'

‘So, why not tell me what's on your mind? Why talk about the bloody garden?'

‘All right,' I sighed. ‘I've been feeling confused.'

‘Confused about what?'

‘Us, Dave. Do you know that we haven't made love for weeks?'

‘I've been pretty busy and . . .'

‘I needed you to catch me, Dave. I've been falling, and I needed you to catch me.'

‘What are you talking about?' he asked, his dark eyes frowning at me.

‘You didn't want me to go to Morocco with you, you wouldn't make love with me before you left . . . There are other men out there, Dave.'

‘You
have
found someone else, then?'

‘I think I've found myself.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Before we met, I had fun, I had lovers, I enjoyed life.'

‘And, now?'

‘While you're out photographing beautiful girls and meeting people, I'm stuck here. I have coffee with Susie and chat to Barry over the fence. I then do the housework, the washing and ironing and shopping. I chat to the old guy over the road and, if I'm really lucky, I have a few words with Rob from next door.'

‘It sounds like you chat to a lot of men.'

‘It sounds like I'm bored, Dave.'

‘So, you're falling, and you want me to catch you. Do you mean that you're falling in love? You might as well be honest, Sarah. You wanted to talk, and it's obvious that you've found someone else, so tell me.'

‘I'm not falling in love.'

‘And, you're not making any sense.'

‘That's because nothing makes sense,' I sighed.

‘What is it you want, Sarah? Are you saying that you want us to split up?'

‘I want . . . I want us to be the way we were. I want sex and fun and . . .'

‘We do have sex and fun. I have to work, and I get tired. There's another job coming up, one that I can't turn down.'

‘Abroad?'

‘Thailand.'

‘We have a spare room, Dave.'

‘What? You want us to sleep in different rooms?'

‘No, no. I want a lodger.'

‘You want a man to move in with us? You want your lover to move in so you can fuck while I'm at work? You're incredible, you really are.'

‘You used to be fun and have a laugh and . . .'

‘So, you want to move your lover in so you can have some fun?'

‘The lodger I have in mind is a girl.'

‘Oh, er . . . I see.'

‘She's coming round this evening.'

‘It's all arranged, then?'

‘Of course not. I wouldn't have someone move in without discussing it with you. I haven't said anything to her about moving in. She's lodging with someone at the moment and I don't think she's happy there. We get on very well together, and I'm sure you'll like her. So, what do you think?'

‘Yes, if that's what you want. What's her name? Where did you meet her?'

‘Her name's Debbie. I met her in the . . . I've known her for a while. She's eighteen and very attractive.'

‘OK, that's a good idea. You sort out the money and things with her, I won't get involved in that. Sarah, you're not in love with another man, are you?'

‘No, Dave. I swear that I'm not in love with another man.'

‘Thank God for that. You had me worried there. So, this barbecue. Your friend Debbie will be here and I'll ask Barry and Jilly over. What about the old boy across the road, would you like him to come?'

‘No, I don't want Derek to come,' I replied, concealing a grin. ‘Barry can come though.'

‘OK. I'll have a shower and get things ready. It's early yet, so we have plenty of time.' He walked to the kitchen door, then turned and smiled at me. ‘I'm glad we're all right,' he said. ‘And it'll be nice if your friend moves in. She can help you with shopping and the housework.'

‘I hope she agrees,' I said, returning his smile. ‘She could be like an au pair.'

‘A live-in slave,' he quipped.

‘Yes, she could be my personal slave.'

As he went up to have a shower, I felt my stomach somersault at the thought of Debbie moving in. My personal sex slave, I mused happily. But what if she didn't want to move in? What would Keith say if she came to live with me? Would he send the photographs to Dave and ruin everything? Whether she moved in or not, I was going to have to confront Keith. He'd driven me to adultery and almost driven me to drink. Maybe I should invite him to the
barbecue? I chuckled inwardly. And Derek and Sam and Jane . . . God, there was still one hell of a mess to sort out.

DEBBIE ARRIVED AND,
again, stunned me with her sheer beauty. In her short turquoise dress, she looked extremely sexy and incredibly sensual, and I felt my stomach somersault as I gazed into her blue eyes. Her long blonde hair shining in the light, framing her fresh face and cascading over her shoulders, she was the epitome of femininity. But, would she agree to move in with me? Breathing in her perfume as she kissed my cheek, I decided to talk to her before leading her out to the patio and introducing her to Dave and Barry. Taking her hand, I prayed for her to agree as I let her into the lounge.

‘Debbie, I know that you're living with Keith,' I began.

‘Am I?' she returned, cocking her head to one side and smiling at me.

‘Yes, you are. You said that you were moving soon.'

‘I haven't found anywhere yet, but I do want to move.'

‘Would you like to move in here, with me?'

Her face beamed. ‘Well, yes, but . . .' she began. ‘What about your husband?'

‘I've spoken to him about it and he says it's fine.'

‘Wow, that would be great, Sarah,' she trilled.

‘Do you work or are you at college?'

‘I've just left college and I'm looking for work. I have money, if that's what you're worried about. My parents give me an allowance so . . .'

‘We'll talk about money another time. That's settled, then.'

‘I . . . I don't know what to say. This is fantastic.'

‘Right, well . . . I suppose you'd better come and meet my husband. We're having a barbecue, by the way. Barry is here from next door, do you know him?'

‘No, I don't. Sarah, about the photographs . . . I deleted them.'

‘Really? That is good news. But, what will Keith say?'

‘Who's Keith?' she asked me, raising her eyebrows.

‘Come and meet Dave and Barry,' I said with a giggle.

Dave's eyes lit up as I took the eighteen-year-old angel out to meet him. Shaking her hand and welcoming her, he couldn't take his eyes off her curvaceous young body. He didn't stand a chance, I mused as he gazed longingly at her firm breasts clearly outlined by her tight dress. She was mine, all mine. Barry also gazed at the girl, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. This was going to work out perfectly, I knew. Pouring Debbie a glass of wine, I wondered whether she was wearing panties. Images of her hairless sex crack loomed in my mind, and I felt my womb contract. There was so much that I wanted to say to her, and do to her, but, with Dave and Barry there, I had to be careful.

‘Debbie has agreed to move in with us,' I announced as Dave popped open a can of beer.

‘That's great,' he said. ‘I hope you'll be happy here with us, Debbie.'