Read Online Pompomberry House by Rosen Trevithick - Free Book Online

there something that you want, Rafe?”
    “Oh Dee, satisfy this deep yearning curiosity,” he cried, now
beating both of his fists against his ribcage.
    I laughed, there was nothing else I could do.
    “What can I do to make you look at me with kinder eyes? Your
turquoise tunnels torment me!” He fluttered his long eyelashes, in a rather
disturbing fashion.
    “Well, you could stop talking like a pretentious buffoon for
a start. You’re not writing now.”
    “I love it! Feisty! Grr!” He made claws with his fingers and
mauled the air.
    “What is it that you want, Rafe?”
    “Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to tempt you to invite me into
your garden of ... I’m trying to fuck you.”
    Oh God. What had I done to deserve this? Why had he
picked the one person on this island who did not want to sleep with him? Then
it dawned on me — he hadn’t. “I’m surprised that Annabel turned you down.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “You did hit on her first?”
    “No!”
    “Oh come on, Rafe! I’m not going to sleep with you either
way, so you may as well be honest.”
    “You’re not?” he asked, sounding truly shocked. Confused, he
patted his chocolate-coloured tresses, knowing full well that he’d used too
much putty for a single hair to be out of place. Then, he stroked his chin and
nodded to himself. He was clearly satisfied that he looked his best, making my
refusal incomprehensible to him. He looked at me with total bewilderment. “You’re
not going to let me seduce you?”
    I shook my head.
    “I came straight here. You were my first choice!”
    “And will you go straight to bed now?”
    He paused, just for a fleeting second, but it was long
enough. “Yes,” he said. But it was too late — that second was like a giant
banner declaring his intentions toward Annabel.
    “Go get her, Rafe!”
    He looked at me for a few seconds and then I saw him give
up. The flirtatious posture turned into a sloppy slump and I think I heard him
let off a little wind. A few seconds later, he leaned a little closer. “Do you
think she likes me?”
    “Oh get stuffed, Rafe, you know she does!” False modesty was
wasted on me. “Probably best if you cut the poetry too ... Actually,
scratch that, I think she’ll love it.”
    He squatted slightly, and gave me a warm peck on the cheek. “Thanks,
Dee.” Then, he grabbed my pencil case, dug out a black felt-tip pen, and began
scribbling.
    “Hey, what are you doing? That’s permanent!”
    “Good, because it’s my permanent phone number.”
    I watched him walk away, swaggering once again. I fumed
about the mindless vandalism. I’d had that pencil case for five years — five! It helped me feel like a writer, in ways that having sold eight hundred Kindle
books never could. Now it was tainted with Rafe Maddocks-ness.
     Just as I thought he was about to disappear into the hall
of moving on, he turned back to face me. His emerald eyes drove into me. “Can I
just ask why?” he pleaded.
    I stared back at him, saying nothing.
    “Lady bleeds?” he asked.
    “What? No!”
    “Are you a lesbian?”
    “No!”
    “Are you married?”
    “No. Well, yes, but that’s not why ...”
    His face changed to one of comfort and contentment. His big,
self-satisfied grin screamed, ‘Say no more!’. He blew me a kiss and vanished.
    I waited until he had left the room before rolling my eyes as
they’d never rolled before. I saw parts of my eye sockets that I never knew
existed.
    Perhaps it was time to go to bed. Drunken Montgomery was
like normal Montgomery, only more pronounced. Drunken Dawn was like normal Dawn,
only more loud. Drunken Danger was like normal Danger, only more quiet. And it
wouldn’t be long before I would hear Annabel squeal with delight as Rafe chased
her little size-ten ankles up the stairs.
    As I neared the kitchen, I saw that the light was on. That
was odd; I thought everybody was in the dining room. Then I remembered somebody
else on the island —