When Love Knocks Twice (A Contemporary Love Story) (7 page)

Strolling
along the shore, saying very little, Tom let his hand bump into
Gail's. At the second bump he slipped his hand into her's and was
pleased to note an answering, accepting pressure from her hand. They
walked in silence for a short while, listening to the gulls, grateful
that the cloud bubbling up was giving some relief from the incessant
sun.

After
a while they sat on a bench and looked out over the Sound to the
mainland, mountains towering in the distance.

“ What
are we doing here Tom?” started Gail.

Tom
gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean, what are we doing
here?”

“ I
mean, what are we doing here, the two of us, together?”

“ Well
I know why I'm here. What are you doing here?”

“ I
don't know,” confessed Gail. “I'm just very
confused.”
“Then let me help you,” suggested
Tom. “You are fed up with routine, you're fed up with being
alone, you wonder if this is it for the remainder of your life, and
the possibility terrifies you. So you've taken the plunge, a chance,
a risk, to get out of the vicious circle, break out of the monotony,
as if in doing so you can arrest the inevitable plunge into old age
by taking another unexpected route, like you can give the slip to Old
Father Time creeping around behind you.”

“ You're
right,” conceded Gail. “It's a lot of that.”

“ So,”
continued Tom. “You took a chance with someone in whose company
you're not uncomfortable, and who, for some reason you trust.”

“ Yes.”

“ But,”
concluded Tom. “ you have paid no attention to what happens at
the end of the week, when normality beckons. Like having to go back
to work at the end of a holiday, you are putting it out of your mind.
But somewhere in the back of your consciousness there is a niggle
that something is going to hurt.”

Gail
looked wide-eyed at Tom. “How do you know all these things?”

“ Because,”
explained Tom. “That's exactly how I feel.”

“ Well,
thank goodness you're not a mind reader. I was beginning to get
worried. So what do we do?”

“ Well
I intend to enjoy the rest of the week, enjoy one day at a time, and
let the future take care of itself.”

“ You
make it sound so easy.”
“I wish it were,”
confessed Tom. “I wish it were.”

That
evening they couldn't decide where to go and eat. Tom decided to make
a unilateral decision.

“ I
know where we're going.”

“ Where?”
demanded Gail.

“ That's
for me to know and you to find out. Get in the car.”

Gail
continued to try and wheedle their destination out of him to no
avail, and it was some time before she realised they were bound for
Portree.

“ There's
a restaurant you know about?” questioned Gail.

“ Sort
of,” agreed Tom enigmatically.

They
parked down by the harbour.

“ Was
I supposed to get dressed up?” queried Gail.

“ No,
I don't think so.”

He
led her along the harbour, and finally stopped outside a fish and
chip shop.

“ The
best fish and chips in Scotland,” he pronounced. “Wrapped
in newspaper.”

“ You're
joking,” accused Gail.

As
the sun was setting over the far hills they sat on a bench, eating
their fish and chips, watching the boats come and go, with the
seagulls following their every move. Nothing was said until the
newspaper was empty.

“ Ah.
You were so right,” agreed Gail, licking her fingers.
“Definitely the best fish and chips in Scotland, eaten in the
open air out of the newspaper. That beats many a restaurant.”
She took Tom's arm. “How clever you are.” And proceeded
to thrust her empty, but greasy and smelly wrapper into his lap.

“ What’s
with the clever?” protested Tom. “Nothing short of
genius,” he declared, tossing the papers into a waste paper
basket some ten feet away, one of the papers hitting its target,
whilst the other one fell short.

“ Okay,
perhaps not quite genius.”

Gail
lay awake, watching the moonlight framed by the open window, too hot
to sleep despite the single sheet that was the only thing covering
them. The only sounds disturbing the silence were the occasional
sheep bleating out on the shore-side pasture. She carefully slid out
of the bed without disturbing Tom and moved over to the window,
trying to catch whatever breeze might be coming through the open
window. She stood looking out over the hillside down to the seashore,
the sea reflecting the moon back to her.

There
was barely a movement of air through the window, not enough to
disturb her nightgown. She despaired of ever feeling cool. A radical
thought occurred to her and, reaching down, she peeled her nightgown
over her head, standing naked before the window. Now she could feel
cool air gently rippling its fingers down her skin, a delicious
feeling. How she longed once again for someone to run their hands
over her, to relish the thought of someone else enjoying her body. No
one had done that since Gordon had died. She had never found a
relationship to replace her marriage. She wondered if she ever would.

A
stirring behind her made her turn. She could see Tom outlined on the
bed, naked to the waist, his relaxed body moulded to the contours of
the bed. What was she doing here, she thought? What do I want of this
man? Someone to trust, trust for what? Company or what? If she was
honest with herself she wanted to go and lie with him, mould her body
to his, feel strong arms holding her. Embarrassed, confused and still
tired, she moved away from the window and as quietly as possible lay
down on the bed, atop the sheet, still straining for the effects of
cool air.

Tom,
roused from sleep by Gail getting out of bed, found himself in
unknown territory. He had just watched as Gail had moved over to the
window and stripped off her nightgown, revealing her naked body
silhouetted against the moonlight beyond the window. It aroused
feelings in him that he wasn't sure he could control. This woman that
had catapulted back into his life, who had put herself into his care
and trust, what did she want of him?

He
was becoming increasingly aware of the difficulties arising from
their physical closeness and their emotional separation. What was he
going to do about it? It was only a week, and after that things would
return to normal, wouldn't they? Pondering these questions his mind
drifted back to sleep, acutely aware of the naked woman lying beside
him.

Wednesday

Tom
woke to the bright sunlight forcing its way through the curtains,
creating shafts of light that bounced around the walls. He was lying
on his back, unusual for him. He was glad that he was only wearing
boxers, considering how hot the night had been. As he came to, he
realised that Gail was lying against him, her breast moulded to his
arm. He was reminded that she had taken off her nightdress,
presumably due to the heat, and he could trace the shape of her lower
body through the thin sheet that they had compromised on.

She
shifted her position, rolling over, her arm lying over him now, her
breast against his chest. He tentatively put his hand on her breast,
intending to ease his body out from under her, but his touch caused
her to push more firmly against him, trapping his hand under her
breast. He moved his hand, then suddenly realised that she was awake,
a dreamy smile on her face, eyelids still heavy. She moved her hand
downwards from his chest and found his boxers, her eyes growing wide.
He raised an eyebrow and began to stroke her breast.

“ You're
wicked,” she murmured, before leaning over and planting her
lips on his. They stayed there for what seemed like ever before she
moved on top of him, while they explored each inch of each other's
body, gently probing, caressing, until the movement became more
urgent. They made love slowly, experimenting, giving permissions as
they went.

When
they lay, complete, watching the light play on the ceiling, Tom felt
he had to apologise.

“ I'm
sorry if I provoked something that you didn't intend,” he said.

“ I
take it as a huge compliment that you wanted to. I've been wanting
you to do it since we met,” Gail replied.

“ Wow.
If it's all right with you, can I compliment you again, because I've
also been wanting to do it since we met?”

“ It
would be my pleasure.”

And
with that they both went back to sleep.

Tom
delivered toast, marmalade and coffee to the bedroom, and they ate a
leisurely breakfast sitting in bed.

“ Such
decadence,” sighed Gail.

“ We're
on holiday. We deserve it,” mumbled Tom, through a mouthful of
toast.

“ So,
what are we doing today?” quizzed Gail.

“ The
guide book talks about a walk in the Cuillin hills, up a series of
cascades. The pictures look good.”

“ Let's
do it then,” declared Gail, jumping out of bed in a burst of
energy. “I claim first go in the shower.”

Gail
waited by the car while Tom went off to a stall at the edge of the
car park to buy a map. She could see him laughing at something the
stall holder had said. She smiled at the sight, and suddenly realised
how much lighter she felt today, as if a weight had been lifted off
her shoulders. Why was that? Was it feeling relieved of the
responsibility of living alone, of making all the decisions herself
with no one to discuss things with? Goodness, was it the sex? That
thought startled her, but no it couldn't have been the sex because
she had felt it before they had made love. As she watched Tom she
suddenly realised how quickly she was becoming attached to him,
attracted to him. But it had only been five days. How was that
possible?

And
then an inner voice reminded her of what she had done, how she had
imposed herself on him, forced her way into his holiday, and she felt
appalled at the thought. Was it selfish? Yes it was. Did she regret
it? No she didn't. But how could he be putting up with her? Oh God,
she realised, she had just had sex with someone she hardly knew, let
alone was married to. Her mother's voice came back to her in stern
tones.

He
noticed her watching him, and he grinned and waved to her as he
walked back across the car park. She felt as if she had an angel on
one shoulder promising her everything she ever wanted, whilst there
was a devil on the other shoulder reminding her that she didn't
deserve it.

Tom,
in the meantime, oblivious to the turmoil in Gail's mind, felt as
high as a kite. He couldn't believe that he was here on holiday with
such a woman, and she appeared to be enjoying herself. He could still
feel the touch of her skin against his, sending shivers up his spine.
But more important than the physical, she was fun to be around, yes
that was it, he was having fun, and he was forced to admit that it
was due in large part to her presence.

As
he reached her he noticed her forlorn, even scowling face.

“ What's
the matter?” he asked, surprised at her apparent change of
disposition.

“ Oh,
I've been so bad,” she cried.

“ Bad
about what?” he replied, now completely mystified.

“ Bad
about everything. Everything. Forcing myself on you, insisting on
sharing your bed, having sex for Heaven's sake,” she cried
again. “Oh, what am I going to do?”

He
took her in his arms and hugged her.

“ You
are going to stop beating yourself up, but at the same time you're
also going to think twice in future, to make sure that you don't do
anything that you will regret later. I am not in the business of
making you unhappy, now or in the future.”

“ Oh,”
she sighed. “You were always so bloody sensible.”

“ Wise,”
grinned Tom, correcting her. “The word is wise.”

He
took her hand as they crossed the road and started up the vague path
leading to the stream. Ahead of them the two highest forbidding
Cuillin peaks of Sgurr A'Ghreadaidh & Sgurr Alasdair looked
relatively benign in the sunshine, but the cloud around their summit
was a reminder of how quickly things could change. The path very
shortly wound through the heather and arrived at the lower reaches of
the stream, at that point really a river.

A
variety of paths now meandered up the hill and they decided, after
consulting the map, to stay as close to the river as possible. After
climbing for half a mile they caught a glimpse of why the river was
such an attraction. They found crystal clear waterfalls and copper
blue deep pools of water, reminiscent of tropical lagoons. Cascades
emptied themselves, to be refilled from above.

Gail
was enchanted, and they sat for many minutes, enjoying the sound of
rushing water and the sight of the azure blue pools.

“ It's
beautiful here,” she declared.

“ It
is in this weather I guess,” agreed Tom. “But let the
cloud close in and it would quickly become the most dismal place.”

Gail
nudged him with her elbow. “Don't spoil it, I'm having such
fun. All this fresh air and sunshine is doing me so much good, I can
feel cares rolling off me.”

“ I'm
glad you came,” confessed Tom.

“ Mmm.
Me too,” agreed Gail, stretching her head backwards so that her
face caught the sun.

They
continued upstream, marvelling at each pool and cascade. The going
became rougher and soon they were scrambling over rocks to get a
better view, Tom offering his hand to help Gail balance, occasionally
using his hands round her waist to help lift her up to another level.

As
they reached the topmost pool, a good two miles from the car park
they stood to look back and admire the view. It seemed most natural
for Tom to put an arm around her shoulder, whilst she responding with
an arm around his waist.