Tequila & Tea Bags (5 page)

‘We were,’ he grins, his eyes twinkling, ‘but I thought why go t’ zoo, when the zoo can come to you?’

He swings open the door to reveal a floor picnic over a gingham red blanket, with different stuffed toys sitting all around it, each with a tea cup and saucer in front of them. A warm fuzzy feeling takes over me, making me feel pathetically girly. Oh my God. This is seriously cute.

‘Are you for real?’ I ask, trying hard to suppress the giggles.

‘Don’t go offending Mr Hippo,’ he says, looking mock offended and covering the stuffed hippo’s ears. ‘He’s already got a complex about his weight. If you refuse to meet him he’ll be devastated.’

He’s
too
adorable.

‘You are such a dick,’ I laugh.

The truth is that I find this ridiculously sweet. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still know his intentions. His bed is too close to ignore, but he bothered to set this all up. Why not indulge him for a little while? It could even be seen as romantic. Hell, it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.

‘You’ve got a dirty mouth,’ he grins, leaning forward to brush a haste kiss on my lips. Wow, he’s touchy already. ‘Come here and let me put something in it.’

‘What?’

He bends down and looks into the wicker hamper, pulling out two handmade sandwiches wrapped in cling film. ‘Jam or cheese?’

Phew, so he’s
not
that forward. Yet. And, okay, so he’s no Jamie Oliver, but at least he made the effort. Although I wouldn’t mind seeing this chef naked.

‘Cheese, I guess.’ I begrudgingly accept it before introducing myself to the zebra, lion, panda, and who can forget the hippo? I make sure not to mention his weight.

‘Dead tame for wild animals, aren’t they?’ he says, biting into his jam sandwich.

‘Surprisingly.’ I nod, taking a can of warm lager. ‘What a romantic setting for a zoo.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ He smiles, leaning in to be closer to me. So close I can smell his masculine aftershave. It’s a blend between mint, lavender and vanilla.

He’s such an idiot thinking he’s going to get anywhere with me. Now that I’m calmer there is no way I’m sleeping with him. I’ve decided it’s final. But I might as well have some fun with him.

‘Yeah, it's
so
romantic,’ I gush. ‘I’m actually tempted to take all my clothes off and show the animals how humans have sex.’

He chokes on his lager, a bit dribbling out of his mouth. ‘What? Err, I mean…aye, let’s get to it.’ He puts his sandwich down and jumps to his feet.

‘I was joking, actually.’ I smirk, loving having the upper hand with him. I get the feeling it doesn’t happen often.

‘You can't let the animals down like that.’ He sounds heartbroken on their behalf. ‘I’m afraid, Rosebud, that we’re gonna have to educate them, as promised.’

I roll my eyes as he takes my hand and pulls me up to standing. I quickly finish chewing my cheese sandwich, wondering where this is going. Or where I’m going to allow this to go.

‘Come on,’ he challenges, smirking at me. ‘Do you want to break those animal’s hearts? I didn’t think you were into animal cruelty.’ He juts out his bottom lip and pulls a sad puppy dog face.

‘Well, I am.’ I nod. ‘In a
big
way.’ I cover my smile by drinking out of the lager can.

‘Are you telling me you beat dogs or something?’ He looks mock horrified.

‘Obviously not!’ I hit him on the shoulder, but he grabs my arm before it even makes contact. Wow, quick reflexes. He uses it to pull me closer towards him. I stumble into his personal space, spilling some lager onto his t-shirt. I’m equally annoyed and turned on that he can throw me around like this.

‘If I knew you were into animal cruelty I wouldn’t have invited you t’ zoo,’ he says, his voice low and husky, his eyes dancing.

My breathing comes out in a rush. ‘We’re not at the zoo,’ I correct him, my voice raspy with need.

My breathing is heavy and I can't stop looking at his mouth, surrounded by his dark overgrown facial hair. I know it's supposed to look messy, but on closer inspection it looks like it's shaped perfectly. He probably spends ages on it. The thought makes me smile.

‘Nah we’re not.’ He grabs the strings of my hoodie and uses them to pull my face closer to him. My breath hitches at the move, but I try desperately to look unaffected as my lips dangle close to his.

‘I’m not going to have sex with you, you know.’ Even
I
don’t sound convinced. My voice is all raspy and breathless, my chest is rising and falling so dramatically you can see it through the hoodie.

‘That’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.’

He pulls at the strings until my lips are only a mere centimetre from his. I look at his deep brown eyes under his bushy dark eyebrows. Oh God. He’s daring me to go the rest of the way. I just know it. And I never refuse a dare.

Fuck it.

I push my lips against his with such force that I almost knock him over. He steadies himself before grabbing my neck, deepening the kiss, pressing me fully against him. The warmth of his body melts the last shred of resistance I was clinging onto. Oh dear. This isn’t going how I’d planned.

***

Why the hell did I do it? And twice? What is wrong with me?

I lie on his bed, fully naked, trying to collect myself. It's so weird having sex sober. Normally I’d just pass out afterwards, like James did, but now I’m just alone with my thoughts and it’s not nice. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex was good. It was better than good, it was amazing. I’ve never been with someone before who has so much fun as James. It's strangely addictive. We laughed practically the whole way through it. Thank God we did, as I couldn’t take my shoe off, he broke the zipper of my jeans, and I somehow managed to fall off the bed. But the way he laughed everything off made me relax. Hell, I needed it. Without my usual Dutch courage I was practically shaking. I almost felt like a virgin again.

Not that it wasn’t wonderful. Just remembering his touch on my skin, the smell of his aftershave, the way he caressed my thighs. God, just remembering it makes me want to go for round three. I have to get out of here while I still can. I jump out of bed and start collecting my clothes from the floor.

He starts stirring, so I quickly throw the hoodie on over my head and scramble to get into my knickers and jeans.

‘Alright,’ he smiles, his voice sleepy and alluring, his hair completely sexed up. ‘Going already?’

‘Yeah.’ I smile shyly, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Don’t be stupid, Rose. This man’s seen you naked. ‘I’m gonna try and squeeze in a few more hours at the care home.’

His face drops. ‘You’re volunteering at the care home?’ He sounds far more shocked than he should.

‘Yeah, why?’ I ask stiffly.

Don’t I look like the kind of person to selflessly volunteer my time?

He shrugs. ‘It probably means you’ve bumped into my brother.’ He yawns, sitting up and rolling his shoulders out, exposing his perfectly formed chest. He’s not really muscly, but he’s still defined enough to take my breath away.

I try to concentrate. His brother? A stone drops within my stomach, bringing with it a spreading feeling of dread.

‘Who’s your brother?’ I ask, trying to sound vague and uninterested. It's already dawning on me though. There’s no one else there of a similar age. No, it can't be him. Please say it’s not him.

‘Will. You don’t know him? Walks around taking everything too seriously, always looks like he’s brooding over something?’

Shit. I slept with Will’s brother. That’s not going to get him to like me anymore than he does already.

‘Err, yeah…we’ve met,’ I say in a high pitched squeal, turning to face the wall as I tie my hair back. I turn back around to face him when I feel I’ve composed myself.

He smiles knowingly. ‘Did he piss you off?’

‘Kind of.’ I shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it.

‘Well, maybe we shouldn’t tell him about this. You don’t want to give him any more reason to hate you. He doesn’t generally get on with my women.’

‘Your
women
?’ I raise my eyebrow sceptically with a grin on my face.

‘At different times,’ he shrugs, smiling devilishly.

Oh God, maybe I’m his third woman today. I might not be Mother Theresa when it comes to my bedroom antics, but I don’t normally share my men. Thank God we used condoms.

‘I just can't find my bra,’ I admit reluctantly, scanning the floor for the sixth time.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll find it for you. Get off t’ work for my slave worker of a brother.’ He slaps my arse before rolling over and going back to sleep. Charming. Glad I caught that one.

***

The walk of shame is never a good one. Especially when its daytime and you’ve lost your bra and your jeans zipper is broken. I hate walking around, knowing I’ve had sex. I feel like people can smell it on me. Especially in this twee village. The lack of pollution just makes it all the easier for them to sniff me out. I creep down James’s road, careful for no one to see me.

‘Look at her!’

I turn around to see a group of teenage girls leaning against a wall, pointing at me and sniggering. Some are smoking and others are drinking from a bottle of cider. Jesus. Damn Yorkshire hood rats.  

‘What the hell’s so funny?’ I demand, putting my hand on my hip.

Violet suddenly appears from inside the gang of girls. It only takes me a second to realise she’s their leader. Head bitch.

‘We’re laughing at your slaggy arse. You just slept with James, right?’ she asks, pointing at my broken zipper.

‘No!’ I shout far too dramatically, trying to cover my modesty.

‘Please,
’ Violet laughs cruelly back to her gang. ‘From what I’ve heard she had to move here because she’d boned everyone in London.’

I cannot
believe
the rudeness of her. She was clearly putting on a nice act at the home.

‘Piss off, you little bitch,’ I snap, turning on my heel and walking hurriedly away, hoping they’re not following me.

‘And she shovels shit for a living,’ I hear her sneer as my walk turns into a slow jog.

Before I know it my jog has turned into a full on sprint. How could I have been so predictable? Sleeping with the village player? I run until I get to our street. Stupid tears are falling down my cheeks. Traitorous, stupid tears. I hit a stone and fall onto my knees, the gravel grazing them. Why is my life so shit?!

I look up to the heavens, to the God Elsie so believes in, begging for some mercy. I close my eyes when the sun blinds me. I open them but shield my eyes. I’m suddenly shaded. I look back up to see a woman’s head looking down at me. She’s mixed race, with the most beautiful glowing skin I’ve ever seen. Her afro curls stand around her head like a halo. Is she an angel?

‘Need some help?’ she asks in a silky soft voice.

I wail some more. I need her help so bad, she could never understand. I’m barely able to nod. I’m too pathetic to speak. I feel arms undermine and then I’m being pulled up to stand on my feet.

‘I’m Lauren. Come on.’

She leads me over to the brick cottage next to ours. I’m pushed through her red front door and placed roughly onto her kitchen table chair. I place my head onto the table and moan. She’s clearly not an angel. Just a nosey neighbour. Who’ll probably tell everyone everything I tell her.

I finally look up and into the stranger’s oblong shaped face, her hazel eyes warm and fabulously big, curly hair sitting at attention. She looks maybe early forties. It’s hard to tell with her great skin.  

‘So, you want to tell me what that was all about?’ She smiles warmly.

‘Err…it’s a long, very stupid story.’

She rolls her eyes with a smile. ‘I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s not owt else going on around here.’

I laugh, the grin taking over my face involuntarily. It’s probably the first time I’ve properly laughed since I moved here. Well, apart from during sex with James. Maybe she’s okay.  

‘I just wish I wasn’t treated like such an outcast.’

I’m aware how tragic and self-indulged I sound, but I can't help it. That’s how I feel right now.

‘I wrote t’ book on being an outcast,’ she scoffs, jumping up and filling up the kettle. ‘Try being t’ first black woman in the village.
And
I arrived pregnant, minus a father. The old biddies around here were having heart failure.’

I giggle, even though I know it’s not nice. That must have been seriously hard for her. Everyone is so clicky around here.

‘Yeah, that must have been a bitch,’ I sigh, sympathising.

‘Aye, so excuse me if I don’t feel so sorry for you. Poor little London girl that everyone is interested in.’ She laughs to let me know she’s only joking.

Everyone is talking about me?

‘I just feel such an outsider,’ I moan, pouting as she gets up to pour my tea, her old fashioned kettle screaming on the hob.

‘I get it, me, I really do. But you need to stop caring what other people think. I did, and it’s liberating. People move on. The gossip moves on to someone else.’ She hands over a tea.

‘Yeah, me!’ I laugh.

‘Really.’ She nods. ‘So stop your Southern bitching and pull yourself together.’ It sounds harsh, but she says it with a smile, so I don’t feel like she’s being a bitch.

I think I may have met my first friend. Well, my first friend who isn’t fifteen years old.

‘Also, sorry, but I don’t drink tea,’ I say apologetically.

Her face retracts as if I’ve slapped her. ‘What? You don’t drink tea? You’re never going to fit in!’ she jokes.

‘Anyway,’ I lower my voice to a whisper, even though no one can hear me, ‘what’s with that old couple having loud sex? You must have heard it, right?’

Her forehead wrinkles in confusion. ‘Old couple. Who?’

‘Mavis and Bernie.’

She bursts out laughing so dramatically that she actually spits on me slightly. ‘Rose, you’re hilarious! We’re gonna get on great.’

Why does everyone think I’m lying?

‘I’m serious. I heard them the other morning. They were going for it!’

She laughs again, as if I’m still playing with her. ‘Rose, you must have heard the TV or something. They’re the sweetest little couple.’

‘Yeah, and the dirtiest!’ I snort. ‘Did you know that they role play Fergie and Will. I. Am.?’

‘Stop!’ she says, doubling over in hysterics. ‘You’re killing me.’

Why the hell does nobody believe me?

I hear the door slam from our house. These walls really are too thin.

‘Elsie’s home. I should probably go.’

I thank her for her help and go back home. Elsie’s sat on the sofa eating a chocolate bar the size of my leg.

‘What’s up, Els?’

‘Nothing!’ she snaps, her face red and angry.

Wowzas. She can be scary.

‘Okay. So we’re just ignoring the fact that you’re eating that, right?’ I can't help but smile even though I know I’m only aggravating her more.

‘Can’t a girl enjoy some chocolate in peace?!’ Her face is practically purple now, but her eyes look miserable, not angry.

‘Okay! Fine!’ I say, my hands up in defeat.

‘It’s the church. I found out I can't wear make-up when I become a nun,’ she blurts out, looking down at the floor.

‘Make up? Why do you care, you barely wear any.’ I look at her dewy skin. It’s perfect.

‘I wear loads, Rose! I just make it look natural. You’ve seen me first thing in the morning; I’m a pale monster.’

I chuckle. ‘Slightly dramatic. So just don’t become a nun,’ I shrug. Problem solved.

‘Yeah, because it’s just that easy!’ she shrieks, getting up and storming upstairs.

***

Saturday 4
th
October

Phil’s asked me to come in early today to do a bit of cleaning. I have no idea why the normal cleaner can’t just get on with it, but either way I’m here at seven o’clock in the morning. I bang on the pub door but don’t seem to get an answer. If he’s forgotten I’ll bloody ring his neck. I despise being up this early.

I remember Megan talking about a private side entrance. I wander around to the fence and realise that at the end of it is a rickety old gate. I look around to make sure Phil isn’t already at the pub door, and when I’m sure, I push it slightly with my hand. It falls open without any resistance.

CRACK!

The sound of a gunshot jolts my entire body, sending shock waves pulsing through my stomach. I’ve dived onto the floor instinctively before I can think of a more sensible option. Something thuds to the floor beside me. Oh my fucking God!

I open my eyes and stare at a dead squirrel. What the FUCK?

I look up to see Phil, naked apart from a pair of leopard print silky boxer shorts with a shotgun in his hands. His beer belly is protruding over the shorts. Eugh. I may get sick.

‘What…the fuck…was that?’ I scream, stumbling over my words.

‘A squirrel.’ He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

‘I know it was a fucking squirrel! What happened?’ I shriek, looking back at the poor dead squirrel.

‘I shot it, pet.’

I look back down at it, my mouth agape in horror. He killed a poor little squirrel? How the hell could he do that? Why on earth would he even
want
to?

‘Aye. Vicious creatures, love.’

‘How can you say that?’ My voice breaks from emotion. I must be due on. I’m crying over a squirrel. ‘He’s just a poor little defenceless animal.’

To this he just shrugs unapologetically and walks off. Hopefully to get dressed. Jesus fucking Christ. This is
not
the way to start a day.

Monday 6
th
October

Well, thank God for this fling with James. If it wasn’t for me sneaking round to his house for a quick shag all weekend I’d literally have nothing to do. I don’t care if they’re all calling me a slag. I mean, this village is just so boring. I’d rope Elsie into some mayhem, but she’s always so busy with church stuff. It’s thanks to her schedule that she hasn’t noticed me sloping off. I’m pretty sure if God took the time to create her he’d want her to party while she’s here.