Friends Or Lovers Part 9

Chapter 16.

Twelve oclock came and went, and I could feel a few b.u.t.terflies in my stomach with each pa.s.sing minute. I drank the dregs of my tea, fidgeted, walked around, sat down, walked around again and generally irritated everybody. As each car pa.s.sed outside, I kept expecting it to be him. The wait seemed interminable. After what seemed like forever, a car pulled up and a handsome man in jeans and a black pullover got out of the car and looked around. He was clearly looking at the house numbers to check which doorbell to press. I looked at my watch and could not believe that it was only 12:06.

I unlatched the door and opened it.

"Hi there!" he said without a moments hesitation.

"Would you like to come in for a sec?" I asked.

"Sure. I can meet that sister of yours. The one with the s.e.xy voice."

"And her partner...." I quipped nodding my head in Chriss direction.

He put his hand over his mouth.

"Oopps!" he said self-consciously.

"Dont apologise," chirped Chris. "She has got a s.e.xy voice."

Chris was standing behind Carole and wrapping her in his arms. She lent back and gave him a kiss on his neck to thank him for the compliment.

John had a cup of coffee and made small talk with Carole and Chris while I gathered up my things. Id dressed casually, just jeans and a rugby shirt (with a cut especially for women). Id removed my make-up, and just put on a small amount of transparent lippy to give them a moist look.

"Im set to go!" I finally said.

John got up, said his 'farewells and 'nice to meet yous.

"Your carriage awaits you, Madam," he joked as he escorted me to his car.

It was quite a swish car, I thought. I was no expert, but from work I had more knowledge of motors than the average gal. Hed chosen a mid-range Ford in black, with a 2-litre engine, in-car stereo/CD player, full security system, sunroof and alloy wheels. It fitted his character. He had no need for a flashy sports car, or gas-guzzler, but he liked a few luxuries, and the colour and style had a hint of s.e.xiness about it.

Inside the car, he had a selection of CDs, compilations of cla.s.sical music by French cla.s.sical composers and American jazz artists. His tastes were broad and selective; the music of a person did not care about fashion or his own image, just the sensuous experience of listening.

He saw my eyes casting over his collection.

"Any preferences?"

"I particularly like Carly Simon, Norah Jones and Eva Casidy but it doesnt look like you have any."

To my surprise he opened another hidden compartment with a further dozen CDs. In there was music by Casiopeia, Carly Simon, Queen, the Yellowjackets and Mozart. He took out the 'Very Best of Carly Simon" CD and away we drove to the rich tones of 'Youre So Vain.

"Any particular destination youd like?" he asked gently.

I thought for a moment. I had no wish to go a long way, but was keen to walk somewhere quiet.

"How about Warwick castle? We could walk around the grounds," I suggested.

He nodded. I was about to give him directions but he made a left turn. I realised that he must already know the area.

"You know the way?" I queried.

"Yes, a bit. I have friends in Warwick."

"Of course, you told me."

I did not feel talkative because I was not sure how to start. Id called him when I was distressed and he was bound to think I wanted to talk about what happened. Now he was here, I was not sure what to say. I could hardly tell him the truth.

"Do you want to eat before or after the walk?" he asked.

I still had a bit of a hangover so food was not high on my agenda yet.

"Lets walk first," I suggested.

I recalled the voice in the background during our phone conversation.

"Was your wife okay about your coming here today?"

"Not really. Sh.e.l.l get over it. She knows that no man particularly me can totally resist being a knight in shining armour. She was forgiving."

"Is that what you are?" I asked.

"I dont mind being a stand-in until you find someone who can do it for you full time."

It didnt fit somehow with the conversations wed previously had about equality between the s.e.xes, but at this particular moment I was happy to borrow someone elses knight for the day.

"But there is one condition," he added.

"Whats that?"

"No hanky panky!" he said with a smile.

"The thought never crossed my mind," I snapped back with a grin.

He may have been driving, but he caught my message and smiled back at me briefly.

"Just so long as we both understand the boundaries," he confirmed.

"I do," I said, with some irony. This small phrase, normally the preserve of people tying the knot, seemed appropriate for the contract that we were making between us.

After this, I felt myself relax and the prospect of the day ahead filled me with pleasure. The trauma of the previous night receded as I filled my senses with thoughts of what we would do with our day. We turned a corner that brought the castle into view then drove around the perimeter to the visitor car park.

"Okay, Madam," he said with mock politeness. "I am now in your hands."

"In my dreams", I thought to myself. My sumptuous naughty side had not been destroyed by the humiliation Id been through; I was grateful for that. Even though it sometimes got me into trouble, the kitten in me was still there.

He continue playing the game of 'protector by opening the car door for me and indicating the direction of the grounds with a slight nod and wave of his right hand.

"Thank you, my man," I said with a haughty look that I imagined women of cla.s.s would give to a chauffeur, or footman. Then I blew it by whispering to him 'do I give you a tip?

He broke into a chuckle as he swung the door shut.

We set off on a path around the perimeter of the castle. I liked this path because it led through a couple of wooded areas, then up a slight incline as we crossed more open ground until we had a view of the whole locality. The full circuit would take about 45 minutes and by then I would feel ready for lunch. We walked for a couple of minutes without saying anything to each other. I sensed that both of us were looking for an opening line that would enable us to talk about what had happened. Finally, he spoke.

"I imagine a man was involved somehow last night?"

I wished it was that simple, but I had to start somewhere.

"Yes. That was the trigger," I replied.

"The trigger for what?"

I looked at him and the distress must have shown in my face.

"Penny, we dont have to talk about this if you dont want to."

I was afraid but I longed to talk to him.

"Its okay. This is not easy for me to talk about. Im not good at sharing my feelings, particularly with men."

He gave me one of those half-smiles that conveyed both sympathy and an understanding of my suffering. He did not interrupt and I realised that he expected something more.

"Last night I tried to follow your advice. I sat down after I came off the phone, made myself a coffee and tried to write down what was troubling me. I could have written pages and pages of trivia; lots of tiny agonies; irritations with things at work; lots of conflicting emotions about how angry I feel about things that happened in the past. All the boyfriends I dumped, their irritating habits, the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds that dumped me, or didnt call me, or made me feel beautiful when they were trying to get in my knickers, but then backed off when I opened my heart in response to their lovely words. I could have written about how jealous I am of my sister. Shes found a man to love her and now has a beautiful child that she dotes on. I could have written about the distance I feel from my mother for the way she used to look at me when I brought boyfriends home. I could tell she thought I was little better than a tramp so I dug my heels in and took my boyfriends up to my bedroom just to make her mad."

I stopped for a second to gather my recollections. I noticed that he was listening intently so I continued.

"I fought her for years. She thought I was 'too young for boyfriends! How can you choose things like that? I was ready at 14. I had pa.s.sion in me, John, real pa.s.sion and I did not want to wait until some stupid outdated law said I could sleep with boys. Youd think my father would be the one to object, but no, it was my mother who was constantly critical. There were times we would hit each other, but I would not be controlled."

He nodded.

"Well, all this was going through my head last night while I held the pad. Do you know what I wrote in the end?"

It was a rhetorical question, but he followed form by asking me anyway.

And then I said it. I said out loud the words that Id hidden in my head for years.

"Im lonely, John. Really lonely."

As I said the words, I felt my eyes moisten again and I looked at him. And then I got a total shock. I could see a single tear rolling down his left cheek. He was crying. He was crying.

"John!" I started. "What is it, John?"

"Come here," he said, and just as my sister had earlier in the day, he offered his arms and I fell into them. Unlike my sister, however, his arms were larger and stronger. They made me feel safer and all warm inside.

He rocked me gently from side to side for a few seconds. Then he released me and started to walk again. I wished that I could have stayed in his arms for longer, but it would not have been right.

"Ive made all my own choices, never let anybody run my life for me, or be my slave."

He gave me a sideways glance.

"But at such a high price..." he responded.

I was not sure what he meant, so I gave him a puzzled look.

"All that 'control, all that 'competence, all that 'professionalism comes at a high price, dont you think?"

And I did think, but I was still not sure what he meant. He spoke more.

"When was the last time you felt like this, talked like this?"

I thought hard. I could not remember a time when I had cried like this..... My G.o.d! I looked at him.

"Not since my first day at university. After my parents drove away, I sat alone in my room and felt so unbearably alone that I cried my eyes out."

"And by the end of the day, Ill bet, you had made several girlfriends who later became your enemies. And after your first disco, you had lads competing to become your boyfriend."

I smiled.

"Yes. But those few hours were the loneliest. Unbearable."

"We all need intimacy in our lives, Penny, even hard-nosed career women."

As he said this he cupped my cheek with his hand. It was such a gentle gesture, something that my father might have done to me as he put me to bed. For the first time in years, I felt the warmth of a mans love and I could not stop my head incline itself towards his soft touch.

"Do you want to talk about last night?" he asked as we resumed our stroll.

I was not sure, but I felt I should give him something to understand why Id called.

"I fell out with the person I picked up at a bar. He walked out. All that loneliness it just crashed down on me and I had to talk to you. I felt I just had to hear your voice."

"Why mine?" he asked.

That, indeed, was the question I did not want to answer. I had to say something, however.

"Because if there is anyone who can help me unravel the minefield that stands between men and women, I guess it is you. Youre an expert in it, after all."

I detected his pleasure at hearing this.

"Not an expert, Penny. It is just something I take a keen interest in."

Suddenly some words popped out of my mouth that I did not intend.

"Help me, John."

There was a pregnant pause while he considered the import of what I had just said.