Read Online The Secrets of Married Women by Carol Mason - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carol Mason
Ads: Link
we’ve just undergone some sensitive thought transference. His thumb massages my knuckles. We stop half way over and listen to a Newcastle that seems to have grown louder in the rain.
The Tuxedo Princess, the nightclub boat where we met, still sits there. We often come and look at it, and I’ll make him tell me again about when he first saw me… ‘Well, I saw you standing on the edge of the dance floor with your three mates, in your buttoned up blouse and poodle perm, and I thought there’s a rose among thorns. And then when you smiled at me and you didn’t look away, I said Please God let this work.’
Then he’ll ask me the same thing.
Rob did make quite an impression. There was something Heathcliff about his tumbling dark hair, intense almost sapphire eyes, and his quiet way of watching me. He oozed a sense of contemplation and reserve, yet he wasn’t boring; he was witty and gave me the giggles. I thought, here’s somebody who isn’t Your Regular Legless Local Thug. Peel me off the floor! By the end of the night there was already something about Rob that made me love him, and the fact that I’d only known him a few hours meant that time wasn’t moving fast enough for my liking. What followed was just a close friendship, because Rob thought I was out of his league. He was convinced I was waiting for some millionaire to come along. I just reckoned I was too giggly for him or too loud, but he liked me as a pal. But then came the defining moment. Seated waiting for Chinese takeaway, he telling me about some famous mobster his aunt married in America, I threw myself onto him. His conversation trailed to a stumped syllable. I burrowed into his neck, relishing this new proximity of him. Then two awkward hands clamped themselves, bear-like, on my back. ‘I’m in love with you, Rob,’ I croaked. I was thinking God I’ll have to hurl myself off the Tyne Bridge after this humiliation because for sure he didn’t love me back. There was this weird little pause, then a voice… ‘Two order black bean ticken, flied lice.’ We could only see the top of a head across the counter. Rob plied my arms off him, scoured my face, keeping me in suspense. Then he said, ‘D’you suppose they forgot the sweet and sour?’
I wondered whether the Tyne was going to feel cold.
Later, when we were opening the fortune cookies, Rob read me his. ‘It says, A sudden confession can bring a change in destiny.’
‘It doesn’t say that!’ I read mine, disbelieving my eyes. ‘Oh my God it says, Accept the next proposition you hear.’ I waggled it in his face.
‘Bloody hell,’ he raked in the bag for the last cookie. ‘It says, you are of double character: An active socialite and a serious thinker.’
We piddled ourselves laughing. When we stopped, he said, ‘I’d better ask you to marry me. I think Buddha would want it this way.’
An airplane passes noisily overhead, startling me out of my reminiscing. The Newcastle train slides over the bridge on its way to Sunderland. Everybody moving, going somewhere. Except, I sometimes think lately, us. I climb my free hand up his arm, feel the soft warm hairs on it. I married the love of my life, the first, the only. And when I fell for him, it wasn’t because I was thinking I wanted to have his babies. I was thinking I love him and I can’t imagine ever letting him go or not seeing him again. I am so happy when I’m with him. I am this lit-up person. ‘Rob….’ I gently nuzzle up to him. The other day I asked him why he never dances with me in the supermarket anymore. Not so long ago he’d have thought nothing of snogging me on this bridge while disapproving seniors passed and scowled at us. His arm comes out in goose-bumps, the hairs stand up. As if by reflex I press my breasts into his arm. But he stiffens, draws his arm back so quickly, and there’s an instant where we both register his reaction. Then he brings the arm around me, pulls me into him. Affectionately.
The Tuxedo Princess, the nightclub boat where we met, still sits there. We often come and look at it, and I’ll make him tell me again about when he first saw me… ‘Well, I saw you standing on the edge of the dance floor with your three mates, in your buttoned up blouse and poodle perm, and I thought there’s a rose among thorns. And then when you smiled at me and you didn’t look away, I said Please God let this work.’
Then he’ll ask me the same thing.
Rob did make quite an impression. There was something Heathcliff about his tumbling dark hair, intense almost sapphire eyes, and his quiet way of watching me. He oozed a sense of contemplation and reserve, yet he wasn’t boring; he was witty and gave me the giggles. I thought, here’s somebody who isn’t Your Regular Legless Local Thug. Peel me off the floor! By the end of the night there was already something about Rob that made me love him, and the fact that I’d only known him a few hours meant that time wasn’t moving fast enough for my liking. What followed was just a close friendship, because Rob thought I was out of his league. He was convinced I was waiting for some millionaire to come along. I just reckoned I was too giggly for him or too loud, but he liked me as a pal. But then came the defining moment. Seated waiting for Chinese takeaway, he telling me about some famous mobster his aunt married in America, I threw myself onto him. His conversation trailed to a stumped syllable. I burrowed into his neck, relishing this new proximity of him. Then two awkward hands clamped themselves, bear-like, on my back. ‘I’m in love with you, Rob,’ I croaked. I was thinking God I’ll have to hurl myself off the Tyne Bridge after this humiliation because for sure he didn’t love me back. There was this weird little pause, then a voice… ‘Two order black bean ticken, flied lice.’ We could only see the top of a head across the counter. Rob plied my arms off him, scoured my face, keeping me in suspense. Then he said, ‘D’you suppose they forgot the sweet and sour?’
I wondered whether the Tyne was going to feel cold.
Later, when we were opening the fortune cookies, Rob read me his. ‘It says, A sudden confession can bring a change in destiny.’
‘It doesn’t say that!’ I read mine, disbelieving my eyes. ‘Oh my God it says, Accept the next proposition you hear.’ I waggled it in his face.
‘Bloody hell,’ he raked in the bag for the last cookie. ‘It says, you are of double character: An active socialite and a serious thinker.’
We piddled ourselves laughing. When we stopped, he said, ‘I’d better ask you to marry me. I think Buddha would want it this way.’
An airplane passes noisily overhead, startling me out of my reminiscing. The Newcastle train slides over the bridge on its way to Sunderland. Everybody moving, going somewhere. Except, I sometimes think lately, us. I climb my free hand up his arm, feel the soft warm hairs on it. I married the love of my life, the first, the only. And when I fell for him, it wasn’t because I was thinking I wanted to have his babies. I was thinking I love him and I can’t imagine ever letting him go or not seeing him again. I am so happy when I’m with him. I am this lit-up person. ‘Rob….’ I gently nuzzle up to him. The other day I asked him why he never dances with me in the supermarket anymore. Not so long ago he’d have thought nothing of snogging me on this bridge while disapproving seniors passed and scowled at us. His arm comes out in goose-bumps, the hairs stand up. As if by reflex I press my breasts into his arm. But he stiffens, draws his arm back so quickly, and there’s an instant where we both register his reaction. Then he brings the arm around me, pulls me into him. Affectionately.
Similar Books
