Page 92 of Sisters Making Mischief
The bed was honey-coloured wood and made up with white sheets and a soft, striped blanket. A wardrobe had been built into one of the alcoves around the chimney breast and there were shelves in the other one. I noticed a few books there, a glass vase, a leather writing case. There was a faint smell of lavender, perhaps from furniture polish and it made me feel suddenly wistful, thinking of him, doing that alone. Like me, making my place look immaculate but hardly ever sharing it with anyone who would appreciate it.
Being alone could have its benefits; being lonely didn’t.
The air in the room was quiet and warm, and I suddenly remembered my new, glamorous underwear underneath my clothes with satisfaction.
Si une femme porte quelque chose de beau sous se vêtements, elle s’envoie un message très puissant.
If a woman wears something beautiful under her clothes, she sends a powerful message to herself.
I was indeed sending a message to myself. My new bra – pale pink and decorated with tiny ribbon roses – was probably powerful enough to start an international incident. It was the first time I had worn it. I hoped I had remembered to take all the labels off.
I walked across the room and closed the shutters on the view out over the river and Potato Farm in the distance, and then I turned to him and took a deep, brave breath.
‘Luc—’
He came towards me and took me in his arms and kissed me.
He tasted of vanilla and warmth. And it wasn’t like last night when there had been a sort of hunger, a crazy need for each other. This was tender and lovely and had nothing to do with the past – his or mine.
Contrary to what younger people thought, there was no age limit to attraction, to desire, to welcoming the sense of another person. The simple touch of a hand, a kind word, a gentle look. To feeling accepted and wanted.
At that moment we were just two people who properly saw each other as we were. We had been lonely for long enough. We were living in the same moment, brought together by chance, and I knew we both wanted something important to change.
It was the first time I had felt that way for a very long time.
I was appreciated. That was the simple truth of it, and I was appreciated for myself. I was not giving anything except me into the situation. There was no familiarity between us, no knowledge of what the other person liked or wanted or expected. We were new to each other. Everything was different from what it had been, it was a journey for both of us, and it was such fun. I hadn’t expected that.
To be near to him, to respond and feel his responses was exciting and empowering. We were equals, we both had the same needs and hopes. There was an energising freshness to it all, memorable and in that moment not the same as it had been.
Perhaps it was the taste of him, the scent of his skin, his breath, my feelings. The place, the light, my awareness of him. It was a revelation to me in so many ways, each one more delicious than the last.
At last – not the five or ten minutes I had been used to, but something definitely more than that in every sense – we lay side by side in his big bed, the sunlight filtering through the shutters. Afternoon delight, I think it was called.
The rest of the world was doing a hundred different things in a thousand different places, but we lay there, slightly breathless.
I couldn’t help it, I laughed with the sheer happiness of being there, on that day in that place with him.
He looked over and grinned.
‘You are wonderful,’ he said.
‘We are wonderful,’ I replied, and I stretched out my arms above my head. I don’t think I had ever felt so sensual, so alive, so aware as I was then.
In that moment, life was a perfect thing. Fleeting, unpredictable and sometimes, just occasionally and unexpectedly, blooming marvellous.
I hadn’t put this on my bucket list, but perhaps I should have done. When I got home I would. Number twenty-two. Or was it twenty-one? And then I would cross it off. That counted, didn’t it?
‘Only one thing can make this even better,’ he said at last. He kissed me and then got out of bed, ‘stay there.’
I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. I rolled over in the rumpled sheets and lay on my side, looking at the light coming through the shutters. And then I closed my eyes and smiled to myself.
It didn’t matter what happened after this, I had made a choice for myself with which I was content.
I had almost dozed off when he returned, and he was carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
‘This feels like a celebration,’ he said.
I was grinning so much that I could hardly speak.
