Chapter 7 #2
Then the tempo changes dramatically. Jackson and I are drawn together to slow dance to ‘Senza Una Donna’ by that singer.
The one who sang about putting his hat down somewhere a few years ago.
Anyway, until this very moment I had no idea I was fluent in Italian.
The words are pouring out of me like a native.
And pitch perfect, which is amazing to us both.
Jackson joins in with me and I intuit that the singer and Jackson have a lot in common.
Hats aside. They’ve both been hurt by past relationships and are struggling to move on.
I trail the back of my hand down his face and loop my arms around his neck to let him know that everything will be okay.
He seems like a very sensitive soul. He’s deep.
A deep well of kindness and respect. He pulls me to him, grateful for the comfort.
His hands slide sensually down my waist, gliding smoothly over my hips to my buttocks as he yanks me to him, pressing me into his groin.
He begins to gyrate against me like a coffee grinder.
Grind. Grind. Grind.
‘How long have you been a professional dancer?’ I ask huskily. His hands remain splayed over each of my bum cheeks. He has such a firm grip.
He gives me an intense look as though that’s exactly the compliment he was looking for. ‘You get me. You see me. The real me.’
I do. I do see the real him. He’s more than just a pretty face. ‘You’re so talented. So good at everything. And so kind, helping me before.’
He dips me backwards, and his lips brush my ear. ‘So are you.’ As we come upright, he looks deeply into my eyes. ‘You are perfect, do you know that?’
I swallow hard.
‘I love you. I fucking love you.’ He pulls me in for a kiss.
It’s the best, longest kiss in the world.
We are eating each other’s faces off and it is amazing.
When we come up for air we are entirely alone on the dancefloor.
Alone in the universe. We’ve transcended to a higher place.
Even though the music is still thumping out.
‘Where did everybody go? Is this a dream? Where am I?’ I stare longingly into his big, round, drug-addled eyes. I will find all of life’s answers in these magnificent whirlpools of his. He stumbles slightly and recovers himself.
‘I’ve found them.’
‘Who?’
‘The people.’ He points downwards. The whole nightclub is sitting down on the floor in lines.
Everyone has their legs slotted behind the person in front like neat rows of herringbone tiles.
They are patting the ground to the left then leaning over to pat the floor on the right.
They are singing for everyone to sit down.
To, oh, sit down. Sit down, down, dow-ow-own next to me.
‘What a great song,’ Jackson says, tugging me with him. ‘Let’s sit down. Let’s sit down next to me.’
‘We should do all the dancing sitting down. Makes complete sense,’ I say when I spread my legs wide and shuffle up behind him.
I find myself thrusting my nether regions into his back as we lean forward, shimmying back and forth.
He has his hands on my calves, rowing them like oars as I pat the floor on either side.
The row of people in front of us goes on like a hall of mirrors, never ending. It’s a spectacle to behold. Jackson and I are still patting the floor as the song ends when everyone leaps up, almost standing on our hands, because another song has come on and they must, must dance to it.
‘I might stay down here.’ I’m not sure I can stand up again anyway.
Jackson turns swiftly to me, getting on all fours before heaving himself up onto one knee with considerable effort.
It’s very impressive. ‘I have a ripper idea. What if we…’ He stops talking, staring into space as though contemplating life, the cosmos, or perhaps why the billabong is he wearing someone else’s Nike trainers?
He reaches for my hand, his gaze burning right through to my soul.
He can see me. The real me. All the good and all the ridiculous. My whole life up to this point.
Everything happens in slow motion as he kisses the back of my hand and declares loudly, ‘I think we should run away together.’
As I gaze up at him, I think back to my odds of finding Mr Right (0.3 per cent) and even though there’s a 46 per cent likelihood of divorcing before the age of fifty-five, I can’t think of any better way to convert this brief four-and-a-half-hour affair into a longer-term commitment.
‘Yes, okay then.’
We stumble out of the club and across the road to a glorious beach. It’s deserted and lit up by the biggest moon and starriest night I’ve ever seen. It’s simply breathtaking.
We stroll hand in hand along the sand in comfortable silence for a while, sobering up. ‘It’s so pretty,’ I say, pointing to the stars, ‘and mindboggling.’ Trillions of stars and planets and suns stretching out into infinite space. No beginning. No end.
Jackson is looking at me with a loved-up expression. ‘So are you.’
My heart soars at the compliment and I suddenly feel shy. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I do. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re funny. You’re clever. You’re unbelievably flexible and you’re a lot of fun.’ A glow of pride flushes my cheeks under his adoring gaze as he points to my coconuts.
I glance down. ‘Where did this come from?’ I am wearing what looks like a coconut-shell bra.
He stops to take off the massive shirt he’s wearing, looking at it in confusion as he checks his back pocket and pulls his T-shirt from it. He gives me a quizzical look.
I have no idea where the shirt came from either. ‘It would make a great blanket,’ I suggest. He wafts it out and lays it carefully on the sand. We sit down and snuggle together. ‘This has been the best night of my entire life.’ I stare happily up at the night sky.
‘Mine too. But thank God those drugs are wearing off.’
I turn to him. ‘What drugs?’
A chuckle bursts from his lips. ‘Please don’t start me off again.
’ When our eyes meet, he lifts onto his elbow and reaches out to gently cup my cheek.
I close my eyes and tilt my lips towards him.
His warm mouth meets mine, his lips sliding softly against my own.
It’s very tender and incredibly romantic.
We lie entwined and kissing for what seems like all of eternity. A mellow sensation has enveloped me; my limbs are light as air. Jackson feels warm and secure and dreamy. If he wasn’t holding on to me, I’d drift up into the stars and the fading light of the moon.
The cool night air begins to heat up as a flicker of sunlight emerges on the horizon. The water, a few yards away, is as still as glass, reflecting the orange glow. Silhouettes of palm trees and distant islands begin to appear as the darkness recedes.
‘It’s incredible,’ I whisper.
We jump up and walk hand in hand down to the water’s edge. ‘It’s warm,’ I say, running my fingers through the water. It creates tiny ripples. ‘And so still.’
‘Want to swim in it?’ Jackson is tugging at his belt. ‘I doubt I’ll ever get another chance to do this.’
He’s right. He’ll be flying back to Australia soon, and he thinks I’m flying back to Newcastle after my ‘holiday’. ‘I guess that means the elopement is off then?’
‘Hah. Oh yeah.’ He gives me a shy look. ‘I kinda said some mad things tonight, didn’t I?’
‘So, is this like… a crazy one-night stand sort of thing?’ I ask casually as I tantalisingly unbutton my shirt. ‘Or the start of a wild holiday fling?’
‘Sadly, my job’s very full-on. I’ll be working every minute until I go back home. This is technically my only night of freedom.’
‘Oh, yes. You have all those terrible people to discipline who are running the company into the ground.’ This makes me even more determined to enjoy this romantic night while it lasts.
I decide to strip off what few clothes I have left, flinging them seductively over to the shirt-blanket with the deftness and determination of a Burlesque trouper.
I cheekily twirl my coconut bra around like a lasso and let go, sending it flying over to join the pile.
I look down. I’m in my bra, knickers and stockings.
Jackson is sliding off his shorts to reveal very tight-fitting Calvin Klein boxers.
Even in the early sunrise I can see he is packing a punch down there and it sends my pulse racing.
He is very toned but not overly muscular.
My eyes roam across his chest and the light sprinkling of hair above his perfectly defined abdomen and the tantalising line of fine hair trailing down towards his boxers.
I flick my gaze around the wide expanse of beach.
It is deserted. Nothing is stirring, not even the birds.
The whole world is sleeping except for us.
‘I might need some help.’ I throw Jackson a coy glance from under my lashes as I twang my suspender.
Jackson sinks to his knees in the soft sand.
The feel of his warm hands on my skin is blowing my tiny but powerful mind.
He pulls me to him, leaving a trail of white-hot kisses from my belly button down to the top of my knickers.
My head is swimming as I grip his shoulder for balance.
He unties the suspender belt and gently rolls down each stocking.
He tosses them over with the rest of our clothes but not before his appreciative gaze travels the length of me.
He takes my hand, ready to go in. ‘Wait,’ I say. For some inexplicable reason I want his last memory of me to be unforgettable. He gives me a questioning look as I reach behind me and fiddle with my bra. The bra straps instantly fall from my shoulders as it comes loose.