SEDUCTRESS BE GONE
Mallorca, Spain
It transpired that vodka didn’t help. It didn’t help at all. In fact, if the mission had been to sail through Salsa with integrity, dignity and an air of casual aloofness towards Robert, then using vodka as a tool to achieve this was a gross misjudgement on Kate’s part.
It had been fourteen days since the last class. After fourteen long agonising days spent in disbelief and confusion, there was no way Kate was ever going to go back. Thankfully, she’d come on her period last Tuesday—for real this time—and by somewhat dramatising the pain and agony, successfully managed to extricate herself from going. But now it was Tuesday again and she needed to come clean. Well, not clean, clean. She just needed to tell him she didn’t want to go anymore. Yet the thought of bringing up the subject left Kate troubled and in desperate need of a distraction. Besides, she had hours to kill before they’d have to leave for class.
She decided to reorganise the books in the playroom. The bookshelf was simple. The grain was dark red, carved from reclaimed railway tracks, then polished to enhance its natural beauty. Whilst not ornate, it had been specially commissioned so that it hugged the entire left-hand side of the playroom and gave the room a rustic yet homely feel. Pulling off all the books and the occasional cuddly toy that resided there, Kate dumped everything onto the floor. Taking a seat at the girls’ arts and crafts table, she suddenly felt daunted by the task at hand. What had seemed like a good idea at first, now felt overwhelming, as she surveyed the piles of books spewed all over the floor. However, experience had taught her that when her mind was whirling and life felt out of control, focusing on colour coding proved to be a calming exercise. Having spent the last two weeks doing all the other cupboards in the house, the only room left was the playroom. Looking at all the books, Kate couldn’t decide whether it was better to put them in order of height, which would be aesthetically pleasing, or go with her usual colour coding. Perhaps , she thought, with a sudden flash of inspiration, she could organise them by both? Ooh, it had never been done before; a challenge with the potential to divert her current obsessive thoughts to safe, practical, yet still obsessive thoughts. Absorbed in processing the dilemma at hand, whilst recognising her OCD had officially taken over, she didn’t hear David enter … until he gasped.
She watched as his mouth dropped open, his eyes grew wide, and then a look of acceptance washed over him. There was no comment. This was not an unfamiliar scene. Kate seemed to be on a mission these days, and it felt like every time he walked into a room, she was emptying cupboards or rearranging something. Perhaps it was some sort of nesting mode? Maybe she wants another baby? He thought, as a flicker of excitement shot through him. A little boy, perhaps? He adored his two girls, but a little boy? Yes, he could go for a third. Definitely a discussion he might bring up, but maybe not in the midst of her OCD madness.
“I’m going to go pick up the girls. Do you need anything from the shops?” David gingerly stepped around the books, trying to make his way through the room. Getting up from the table, Kate too began to navigate through the books until they met in the middle. Rising up onto her tiptoes, she planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you. Yup, can you get some salad stuff please? I’ve made a nice roast chicken for dinner tonight.”
“Isn’t Juanita coming? It’s Salsa tonight.”
Kate let out a dramatic sigh and plonked herself onto a small, book-free section of the floor. Crossing her legs, she reached for any that were in the ‘blue’ family. She couldn’t look him in the eye when she was about to lie so blatantly.
“I cancelled Juanita,” she said, whilst impersonating a person fully focused on the blue book search. In reality, her heart was pounding. Could she get away with this?
“To be honest”— I’m going to hell —“the Salsa classes aren’t working, David.” There, she’d said it.
“Okay,” he said, partly relieved, but mostly confused, “Why?” He lent down to sit next to her, pushing the books to one side to make space for the two of them, passing his wife some blue books, which she slowly built into a tower.
“Honestly”— definitely going to hell —“it’s just not working. We said we needed to try something fun and you’ve been amazing, but I know you don’t really enjoy it.” Not pausing for breath. “Plus, we don’t work well together. I’m too small, you’re too tall. You move up and down. I want to go side to side. It’s not exactly the fun activity I thought it would be.” Still focusing on her now-growing blue tower, she stole a glance at him. He didn’t seem upset. He passed her one more book before standing up.
“I guess. We did kinda look sort of ridiculous. You’re not wrong.” David chuckled at the memory.
“Plus, it’s boiling now, and the Boomba Bar is so gloomy. It just seems a pity to be inside when we should be enjoying the outside; it’s such a beautiful time when the sun goes down.” Kate added ammunition to her arsenal of excuses.
“Yup, you have a valid point.” David dusted down his shorts and hopped his way back to the door as if he were a soldier on a rope obstacle training course. “Okay, I’ve got to get the girls. Salad stuff it is.” He paused. “Maybe we can try something else after the summer? It was fun going out like grown-ups.” Not waiting for a reply, he disappeared, closing the door behind him and relief flooded through Kate. She never had to go to the Boomba Bar again.
A column of blue books now loomed in the centre of the room, wobbling precariously. What next? The red books? Or just get the blue books back on the shelf? However, having extricated herself from Salsa, the OCD suddenly seemed to dissipate, and she couldn’t be bothered to continue with the ridiculous project anymore. She had a good hour before David and the girls returned. She could just put all the books back, in no particular order, but first, she needed to catch up on some emails. Jamie had sent her one last Friday, and it had been weighing on her mind, plus she really wanted to share what had happened in the class. She knew she could trust Jamie. There was no part of her that felt Jamie would ever betray her confidence, and she could hardly speak to any of her other friends who knew David. But maybe she shouldn’t put it in writing, maybe just share it when they next saw each other. Jamie would think her a ridiculous queen prude and they’d laugh about it. Hopping over the obstacle course of books, in a similar fashion to David, Kate returned to the table and flipped open her laptop. Bloody stupid spinning ball of annoyance flared up, and she made a mental note that on her next birthday a new laptop would be a perfect gift.
From: [email protected]
Subject:
The cursor blinked, and she hesitated. She wanted to call the subject, ‘Selfish and irresponsible,’ as that seemed to be the topic at hand, but Jamie seemed upset and she wasn’t that insensitive, so she opted to leave it blank.
Hey Jamie. Bloody hell you poor thing …
Again, she stopped and watched the cursor flash again. Pressing the delete button, she removed ‘you poor thing.’ She thought Maria had a bloody good point. From all accounts, Jamie appeared to be swerving somewhat off the rails since her return to London. Ufff , how to address this? Delete, delete.
Jamie
I love you tons … don’t be mad at me. I know how much pressure you’re under and that you’re financially responsible for both your mum and Madison. But … the thing is, Jamie, Madison is your daughter and your mum is getting on a bit now. I totally get that you’re working and supporting them and obviously if you were working, that’s when your mum needs to be there for you. And she has. But in this instance, you weren’t. I’m not saying that you don’t deserve to have some fun and downtime (I love that you have fun and lots of juicy stories to share with me) but on this particular occasion can you put aside your feelings of indignation and just look at it from your mum’s perspective? I think this is a long conversation that we can process together. We need to get together. I have stuff I need to talk to you about too. We also need COSMOPOLITANS. Lol. So if you're not mad at me for speaking my mind, I have an idea. David’s going back to London, the first week of August. Fancy coming to stay with me for a few days? Even a week if your work permits? The girls get on great. Will you think about it?
Love ya. Me.
P.S. I stopped Salsa classes. TBD
P.P.S. Mystery Man … tell me more. How old is old? I’d put money on him not being old at all, just not your usual twenty-year-old.
P.P.P.S. No idea who Chris Hemsworth or Zo? Kravitz is, but if you’d said Matthew McConaughey, that’s another story!
Kate pressed send and then started scrambling around, thrusting the books in no particular order back onto the shelf. For sure, she’d have another mental breakdown at some point and could do the books then. Now she just needed to clear the floor and be ready for her girls. Writing to Jamie about being more present for Madison made her realise the last couple of weeks she’d not been that present herself. Her fingers touched her lips as her mind wandered off again. Closing her eyes, she recalled the moments from the last Salsa class.
* * *
After knocking back not one but two vodkas, which were equivalent to perhaps four English vodkas, Kate felt confident and relaxed. Robert wasn’t with the same girl this time, but a new lookalike: blonde, five foot ten and very skinny; obviously his type. Kate spent the class trying to ignore him like a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl with her first crush, but at one point they brushed arms, turning her beetroot red. Damn, the physical reactions just wouldn’t let up, and the vodka made her horny. It wasn’t helping.
The class breezed through relatively quickly as David, true to his word, having now mastered the basic step, did not inflict serious harm on her toes, so there was no need for any partner swapping this time. If only it hadn’t rained.
As soon as the class was over, Kate made a dash to get out. David, gallant as ever, went to get the car, leaving her propped up against a wall outside. Best place for her seeing that the vodka had now soaked into her system, making standing upright an arduous task. The weather irritated Kate. She hated it when it rained in Mallorca. It made her feel like she might as well be back in England with her friends and family. She sighed deeply for a moment, feeling a pang of homesickness.
“Big sigh for such a little woman!” Robert exclaimed, creeping up behind her with no sign of his dance partner anywhere.
Oh shit , thought Kate, as the hairs on the back of her neck bristled, as if standing to attention at his command. Breathe. Just breathe. Say nothing. Do nothing. Do not make a prat of yourself. And more importantly, do not throw up . All this negotiating with herself, however, seemed to be swept to one side as she was so taken aback at being addressed as a ‘little woman.’ Robert continued to speak politely even though she was looking at him with a glazed expression, mouth open. Well, vodka does that.
“Where’s Darren?” Robert ignored the fact that she still hadn’t spoken a word.
“Car … rain, and it’s David,” she said slowly, conscious that she could be slurring her words—hardly the coolest thing to do. “And the new girlfriend, who looks exactly the same as the old girlfriend, have you lost her already?” Kate found a burst of lucidity, which appeared to amuse him.
“Not a girlfriend.” He held her gaze intently.
“Blonde, five foot ten and twelve-years-old, your type then?” she inquired sarcastically, totally ignoring the fact that he’d said she was not a girlfriend.
“Usually, but sometimes I like to break out of my comfort zone and go for petite brunettes with piercing blue eyes.”
“Ahhh. Versatile then,” Kate bantered back, the vodka giving her confidence. Who am I?
Kate was enjoying the attention; in fact, she was flirting with him and it was fun.
Robert edged closer towards her whilst she, to retain some semblance of composure, edged further away until she’d left the security of the wall and the awning. Wobbling somewhat and shuffling awkwardly, she found herself standing in the rain, getting extremely wet.
“I like what you’re wearing.” His eyes travelled the length of her body.
She felt naked, even though her black sundress wasn’t particularly revealing. He took a step closer to her, but still remained under the awning. She felt like purring, as if she was being stroked and petted. She wanted to hear more, but the small part of her brain that was not jumbled with vodka shouted, Extricate yourself. Now. Don’t flirt. David could be back any second.
“Robert …” But no words. “Robert …” Fuck still no words. He seemed to be conscious of her rising distress.
“Sorry, Kate, I know I shouldn’t be flirting with you … I’ve just been thinking about the dance.”
“Robert …” Goddammit. Come on Kate, say something else, you twit.
“It's okay Kate, don’t panic, it was a great dance, but just a dance.”
Now she was the one feeling like a twelve-year-old. She'd wanted to be cool and sophisticated, but all witty repartees seemed to have disappeared, and she didn’t know what to say because he was wrong, so very wrong. It had been more than just a dance—so much more. In typical Kate-style, her thoughts somehow manifested into words and then fell out of her mouth in large globules.
She gazed up at him, flashing her eyes in warning as if to say, don’t come any closer. Yet the words that came out of her mouth were far more inviting, “It was more than a dance, much more, and you know it, but I guess for you it was just a bit of fun.” Then indignantly, she added, “I’m married.”
For a moment, Robert almost looked remorseful, but then he smiled. His eyes creased up and Kate followed the curves of his mouth to his jawline, finally resting on his lips. He took another step towards her so that he too was now in the rain, just an arm’s length away from her, and she melted.
“Kate,” he said, and then paused, “that's a great shame.” His tone was apologetic, but there was a dangerous twinkle in his eyes.
“Yes. Shame,” she echoed as she returned his gaze, this time without squirming or embarrassment.
At long last, The Seductress came to the rescue. Her eyes glinted with the excitement and the danger of their interaction. She raised her head defiantly as the rain came pelting down onto her face and then, as if by magic, as if once again they were dancing, time stopped. Sounds faded as he moved in closer towards her, rain droplets falling in slow motion; falling onto her cheeks and onto her lips. He reached out and caught a drop of rain in his fingertips, brushing his fingers across her cheek and down towards her mouth. Before she had any idea what was happening, he bent his head forward and touched his lips onto hers. It was not a kiss as such, just a connection; an incredible, powerful, bonding of two people, and though it lasted but a second, to Kate, it felt like an eternity. Her eyes closed as she succumbed completely to the power of his lips resting on hers.
At the sounds of high heels, clip-clopping on the stairs, Robert disengaged his lips from Kate’s. He took a step back, his eyes never leaving hers for a second. “Shame.” His voice was husky, and she shivered.
Taking hold of his non-girlfriend’s arm, Robert walked off, leaving Kate standing in the rain, totally and utterly speechless. Her mind couldn’t process what had happened. As she watched him walk away with his arm around the gorgeous blonde, she felt a longing for something that was so alien to her that she staggered backwards to the wall for support again. What the hell just happened?
Suddenly, David pulled up in the car. “Why are you so wet? Hop in.”
And she did. But during the car ride home, she replayed it over and over in her mind and found herself touching her lips delicately with her fingers, trying to recapture the sensation that had shot through her.