An Untimely Romance: A Time Travel Romance (12 page)

Although her head could
rationalise the concept, knowing it was in the past, her heart felt quite the
opposite. It was too real, and she couldn’t let go. Why did she feel second
best, almost like it was her having an affair with Ruben? Demoralised, she
noticed a red box, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. As she lifted
its hinged lid and peered inside, a very expensive diamond solitaire stared
back at her.

Shit, the door!
she thought, looking at her phone. It was only 3.30 p.m. It
couldn’t be Ruben; he wasn’t picking her up till seven. With a rush of guilt,
she hurriedly threw the contents back into the box and closed the lid, shoving
the ring box into her pocket, intending to put it back later. Then she heard
scratching at the bottom of the door and jumped to her feet. As she opened it
towards her, she saw a pair of crystal-blue eyes, pert ears, and a beautiful
grey coat.

“Where have you come
from?” Heather smiled, feeling relieved.

Reaching out her hand,
the dog made no further advance and instead backed away, turning towards the
living room. Heather followed, curious as to how it had managed to get in, or
how she’d missed him earlier.
Maybe he was in one of the other bedrooms
,
she thought.

“Oh!” Heather gasped as
she walked into the living room. “Beth, what are you doing here?”

Beth jumped up, just as
startled.

“I could ask you the
same question,” she said as she filled the washing machine with clothes from a
black bin liner. “Sorry, Ruben didn’t say he had guests. No, he probably didn’t
think... Just dropping Angie’s washing off. Not staying, mind. Things aren’t good
at the moment, so she needs all the help we can give her.”

“Oh, of course,”
Heather said, feeling awkward as she sat down on the settee, watching Beth fill
the kettle,

“Tea or coffee?” Beth’s
voice drifted over her shoulder.

“Tea please, one sugar
ta,” Heather replied, watching the dog as it bypassed her and went to sit next
to Beth’s feet.

“I see you and Rocky
have been introduced!” She laughed, patting his head.

“Not exactly,” Heather
answered. “He ran off.”

“Not like our Rock;
he’s usually a people’s dog.”

“Is he yours?”

“Kind of. He was, but
after the split we sort of share him; doggy custody. You did say you took one
sugar?”

“Yes, thanks.”

Heather watched her
stir both mugs and place them on coasters on the coffee table before sitting
beside her. Rocky, quite at home, lay between the kitchen and dining area, his
eyes closed. There was a silence; not quite awkward, but well on the way.

“Husky, isn’t he?”
Heather asked, just for something to say.

“You’re half right.
Husky malamute cross, my lil chap. I took him out for his walk not an hour
gone; he’ll sleep now till he gets hungry.”

Heather gave her a half
smile. “So, what’s Ruben really like? You probably know him better than
anyone.”

“Yeah, suppose I do,”
Beth replied, sipping at her tea.

Heather sat back,
relaxing into the settee, scrutinising Beth’s appearance. She’d scraped her
hair back into a loose bun at the back of her head, and was wearing brown
mascara, which, although perhaps too many coats had been applied, blended well with
her hair colour. But as for the pink eyeshadow, it would have looked far better
on somebody half her age and of a different colouring. Heather questioned why
she’d tried so hard, since doing the washing and walking a dog didn’t really
seem a good reason to get all dolled up. Her transparent complexion was masked
by foundation a good couple of shades too dark, leaving harsh lines visible at
her hairline. It was obvious she liked the colour pink, since her blusher and
lipstick were a similar shade. Heather wasn’t sure if she was trying to go for
the natural look, but if so, she’d failed miserably. Still in her calf-length
double-breasted coat in red and white tartan, leaving her insipid ankles on
show, Heather wondered what she was wearing underneath. Yet with all these
negatives stacked against her, why did she feel so threatened by this older
woman?

“Ruben...” Beth sat
quietly in thought as if contemplating what to say next. “Yeah, he’s a great
bloke, heart of gold,” she continued, her eyes fixed on Heather. “But that’s
not what you’re asking me, is it?”

Heather breathed
deeply. “No, I suppose not,” she said, her voice strained.

The atmosphere held an
uncomfortable vibe.

“Ruben as a boyfriend...”
Beth rolled her eyes. “I really don’t know how to broach the subject. He can be
more than a bit changeable, depends where the mood takes him really. At times
our relationship was very volatile.” Beth paused momentarily, perhaps awaiting
a response, but Heather’s only reply was a frown. “Look, Heather, putting it in
layman’s terms, we had more than our fair share of ups and downs. The ups,
almost euphoric, but as for the downs, they could have been unbearable except
that I wouldn’t stand any nonsense. I think Ruben really did meet his match
when he took me on. But I loved him, the kids loved him, and so we were a
family in every sense of the word, and yes, Heather, he loved me.”

Beth looked down into
her mug as she spoke and then raised it to her lips, hiding her facial
expression. There was a slight pause in the conversation, and Heather could
feel the unease.

Leaning forward, her
elbows on her knees, she asked, “Why did you break up? Ruben told me you
cheated on him. I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t...”

But she never finished
her sentence. As Beth interrupted, her tone changed slightly, Heather
swallowed, knowing she’d hit a nerve, asked one question too many.

“What started as a
disagreement spiralled into a raging argument. I can’t even remember what it
was about now. We both said things we didn’t mean, hurtful things I don’t wish
to divulge. But it wasn’t something he’d said.”

Heather could see the
pain behind Beth’s eyes.

“It was something he
did.” She looked flustered, like there was more to be said, yet she stopped
mid-sentence, not elaborating further.

Instead, she picked up
her mug and finished the last dregs of tea.

“Well, I really must
get off. Left the bab with me mam.”

Heather could sense her
desire to get away.

“Tell Ruben I popped in
with his mum’s washing, and I’ll ring him over the weekend.”

Heather could feel the
eagerness in Beth’s voice to lighten the conversation.

“Best take Rock with me
in any case; if you’re going out, no point him staying here to be on his own
all night. Rocky, here,” she called, pulling a small retractable lead from her
pocket and fastening it to his collar. “Right, I’ll be seeing ya later then.”

Heather watched her
leave with Rocky, closing the door behind them. She took a long breath, lay
back on the settee and closed her eyes briefly, her mind an open book.
How
had life become so complicated?
She felt somewhat at a disadvantage when up
against Beth, her years not allowing her the maturity and life experiences to
deal with Ruben’s complexities, the strange occurrences at the manor; and as
for Frank, her mind wouldn’t even allow her to go there, her thoughts a maze of
dead ends. Was she even sure she wanted Ruben now, with Beth always appearing
to be on the sidelines, an intrusion? Perhaps it was not intentional on her
part, but it loomed like a dark cloud, leaving many uncertainties as to her
feelings.

Heather had never felt
quite as alone as she did now. The person she needed most at this moment was
her mum, whom she loved dearly, but lately their relationship had gone astray
and they’d lost that closeness, and she didn’t feel able to confide in her any
more. She felt both her parents seemed to love the manor more than her, and
although she knew that sounded slightly childish, it was how she felt.
Was
Ruben what she needed?
she wondered. Maybe she should sleep with him; maybe
that was the closeness she needed, and she was only holding back because she
was scared of the unknown, somewhere she hadn’t been before. But she knew she
couldn’t carry on as she was. Her life was a mess, and she was constantly going
round in circles and ending up back at the same place. Not any more. For
Heather Richardson things were going to change, and tonight was the night she
was going to sleep with Ruben.

A Night to Remember

“O
h bugger!” Heather said as she jumped up and looked at the time:
6.15
p.m. – three quarters of an hour and he’ll be here
, she thought.

She rushed to the
bathroom and turned on the shower.
I know everything is ready ... but where?
she thought, opening one of the bedroom doors.
No, this can’t be the one
,
she thought as she peered into a girly pink room with bunk beds. Her face lit
up as she entered the master suite. The decor was slightly more feminine than
Heather would have anticipated, with cream walls, except the feature wall,
which was cream with a crimson rose pattern. Behind this was what she thought
looked like a king-size bed, on which Ruben had sprinkled the same colour rose
petals across a rich velvet duvet and matching pillowcases, the sweetness of
their perfume dancing seductively in the air to meet her. A plush scarlet gown,
befitting a romantic night out, hung elegantly from a mirrored wardrobe.
Heather felt a rush of excitement, an inner glow.

Returning to the
bathroom, she quickly showered and threw her clothes in a laundry bag to take
home. She scouted round for a hairdryer.
Typical
, she thought. After
looking everywhere with no luck, she decided she was not going to let it ruin
her evening. She sank down onto a padded stool and gazed at her face and wavy
damp hair in the small dressing table mirror. There was even some make-up there
waiting for her.
Well, best make the most of it
, she thought.

“I can’t let a simple
hairdryer ruin our evening, not when Ruben’s gone to so much trouble,” she said
out loud, watching her reflection talking back to her as she scrunched her
tousled hair between her fingers. As a rule, she’d brush it out ready for
straightening, but on this occasion she decided to define the curls as it
dried. 

“There, not bad at
all,” she muttered, grinning at her reflection.

She wasn’t too sure
about the make-up, since it was not what she would usually have worn, but it
was that or go without. She’d heard her mum use the expression ‘as pretty as
pink’ on more than one occasion, and it appeared to be a colour that Ruben
admired since he’d actually gone out and bought it for her himself. A quick
touch of bronzer, but she knew the time was moving on, so she concentrated on
her eyes. The pink eyeshadow was not looking too bad after some careful
blending.
Lipstick, and I’ll be done, and its only ten to seven
, she
thought, applying the first coat to her lips. She ran a comb carefully through
her hair so as not to disturb the natural curls, and then quickly removed the
dress from its hanger. The material felt cool against her skin as she stepped
inside its fishtail skirt, pulling it up around her petite waist. It was as if
it had been made for her, and she loved the off-the-shoulder style.

Heather waltzed over to
the wardrobe, where she stood admiring herself in its full-length mirror. She
wasn’t vain as a rule, but on this occasion was more than happy with the
reflection staring back at her. Stepping into a pair of black stilettos and
picking up what looked like a designer clutch bag, she was pleased with the
finishing touches to her outfit. Underneath the bag was a note and a solitary
red rose, and she smiled a bittersweet smile as she read the note:
For my
girl xxx

She couldn’t just leave
the rose to die, and Ruben would never think to put it in water. Her eyes
darted around the room for a makeshift vase, and she noticed a tall glass on
the bedside cabinet to the left side of the bed, as luck would have it, half
filled with water. Carefully picking up the rose and placing it in the glass,
she noticed a smudge around its rim, and as she lifted it to take a closer
look, she rubbed the mark with the tip of her finger.
No, it couldn’t be
...
But there it was, a pink lipstick smudge. The same colour, maybe even the same
lipstick, that she was wearing. An unthinkable explanation flashed through her
head as she wondered what possible reason there would be for Beth’s lips to
have touched a glass next to Ruben’s bed.
Surely neither of them would sink
that low, would they? No, of course not. Coincidental, obviously one of the
many downfalls of residue left behind by the dishwasher.

Lost in her thoughts,
she never heard Ruben enter, and spooked by his reflection in the mirror
she almost dropped the glass while he stood silently. She could see him
admiring her beauty from the glint in his eyes.

“Amazing, you look
bloody amazing!” His eyes bored into her, and there was a breathlessness to his
voice.

“Likewise,” was
Heather’s reply, as she admired him in his very sophisticated black suit,
having taken great care when choosing a tie, its colour a perfect match for her
dress.

She remembered being
taken by his looks the very first time she set eyes on him, but tonight he’d
stepped into a different league. His blonde spikey hair was sleek and gelled
back, his aftershave sweet and heady, reeking of expense.

He reached out his
hand, and Heather obliged.

“This is only the start
of our evening,” he whispered, leading her back through to the living room.
Locking the door behind them, he led her down the stairs. “Your chauffer
awaits.”

Heather’s eyes lit up.

“It fits the moment,
don’t you think?” As Ruben spoke, she felt his hand moving slowly around her
waist, his warm breath caressing her earlobe. “Italian vintage.”

A cream soft-topped
beauty sat stationary, her engine purring. A chauffeur stepped out from the
driver’s side, opened the passenger door and held out his gloved hand. Heather
could smell the richness of the leather oozing from within and sank into its
soft interior, to be joined seconds later by Ruben.

“With a vintage car,
comes vintage champagne,” he said.

Already corked, he
carefully filled two fluted glasses, while the chauffeur folded back the soft
top to expose them to the warm evening.

“Here’s to us, and a
night to remember,” Ruben toasted.

Taking a sip, he leant
forward and she could taste the champagne’s sweetness on his lips as they met
with hers. He took her hand in his and she moved closer, nestling into his
shoulder. Tilting her head, she looked up into his eyes.

“I told you, you were
in for a treat,” he mumbled, a soft undertone to his voice.

Heather breathed in the
heady fragrance of summer, a red blush to the sky predicting the day ahead. She
smiled. The car never exceeded 30mph, and she felt Ruben loosen her hand before
lovingly wrapping her up in his arms. Her soft curls danced around her face in
the ebb and flow of the breeze as their scenic journey continued, gradually
leaving the countryside and its tranquillity behind them. Music, traffic; they
were now passing through busy roads, and the bustle of bars and restaurants.

“You taking me for a
meal?”

“Later, maybe,” he
replied, placing his index finger to her lips. “Shhh, close your eyes,” he
whispered.

Heather didn’t argue,
lost in the ambience of the moment. Complying, she sat silently in
anticipation.

After a while the car
drew to a halt, and she heard the key turn and the engine be switched off. She
felt the seat rise slightly as Ruben stepped out. Taking her hand once more,
Heather looked down, making sure she didn’t trip on her dress. He smiled as he
helped her from the car. Exhaust smoke, cigarettes and a compendium of takeaway
foods merging in the air, vying for first place, had replaced the scents of the
country. She tingled inside, feeling his warm kiss on the back of her hand,
moving up slowly towards her cheek.

“Okay, you can open
them now,” he said, his voice low and subdued.

Between her opening
lashes, she saw a grand white-pillared building, in front of which taxis were
dropping people off, whilst others were congregating in evening attire.

“I was right about the
meal,” she grinned cheekily.

“Not quite, that’s
later.”

She watched as he
reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved some tickets. Reassuringly he
placed his arm around her waist, his hand resting on the top of her thigh, and
walking up the three steps they entered the building.

“I wanted to make the
night special, for you to do things you’ve never done before, this being the
first.” His expression, like his words, appeared to hold many meanings.

They stood in a vast
marbled foyer in varying creams and beiges. It was cool, and footsteps echoed
as people moseyed around. Some stood in a queue before a glass-fronted
partition, where tickets were ripped and then handed back.

They headed up the
nearest staircase, dressed in a rich-red carpet, its ornate banister of a
floral design embellished with a gold trim.

“I’ve reserved our own
private box for this evening,” Ruben said, pulling back a floor-length curtain.

“I could get quite used
to this,” Heather said, kissing him excitedly, before sitting herself down.

She felt more than a
little privileged as she peered down to the mass of heads below.

“Back in a sec,” Ruben
said, softly touching her shoulder.

Heather hardly noticed
his absence, engrossed with the comings and goings of people seating themselves
in the boxes, lower balconies and stalls. She felt a draft as the curtain
opened.

“Here,” Ruben said,
passing her a small pair of binocular-style opera glasses and a cold beverage.

“Ruben, the suspense is
killing me. What are we watching?”

“
Madame Butterfly
.
Heard it’s really good,” Ruben replied, sitting beside her.

She could feel the
intensity in his eyes; it was as though he could hardly draw them from her.

“Heather, you look so
beautiful.”

She smiled, her face
glowing, filled with utter exuberance. She took his hand as the orchestra began
to play. The curtain rose, revealing the first scene. The binoculars hardly
left her eyes; she was captivated by the arias, the beautiful dresses of the
geisha girls. Her fingers tightened around Ruben’s as her emotions were
overwhelmed by the portrayal of this enchanting love story. Though it was
spoken in Italian throughout, this did not bother Heather, as her heart felt
every emotion acted out before her.

Ruben appeared to find
her as fascinating as the opera, and during the final scene, he watched
intently as tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over like tiny pearls,
encompassed by shallow breaths on reaching the tragic finale.

The orchestra played on
during the final curtain call, while the whole auditorium was on their feet
with a crescendo of hands meeting and cheers. When the musicians had laid down
their instruments for the final time, they walked backstage in single file to
the audience’s mounting applause. As the applause died down, Ruben stood
gentlemanly-like, pulling the chair from beneath her and taking her arm. She
seemed quiet as they walked down the stairs, still very much lost in the love
story, but words weren’t needed; her face said it all.

The summer evening was
now cloaked in darkness as they walked out to their awaiting car, its soft top
now closed for their journey home. Heather wearily laid her head on Ruben’s
shoulder, relaxing to the purring sound of the engine. She was not tired in a
sleepy way, but more from a feeling of contentment. Lost in his arms and her
own daydreams, she envisioned how their lives could be.
A perfect fairytale
wedding, holidays abroad, and more trips to the theatre
. Her dreams were
starting to feel real, and her feelings for Ruben she couldn’t
quite put into words, but she knew she’d never felt such intensity for anybody
before. It all felt so comfortable and nice, and she realised she was falling
in love with him.

Heather opened her eyes
to the familiar cattle grid, and felt a slight disappointment.

“I thought you were
taking me for a meal,” she said, looking up.

“You’re getting rather
ahead of yourself, I’d say,” he teased. “But yes, I am. Don’t ask questions,
but you won’t be disappointed.”

As she opened her mouth
to speak, she was silenced by Ruben’s words.

“Well, you weren’t
earlier, were you?”

She could hardly see
through the darkness as they drove on through the gardens, bypassing the manor
in its nightly attire. Open flame torches, creating a lighted pathway, leading
between vegetable patches towards the lake, soon awaked the darkness. The tendrils
of an overhanging weeping willow concealed Ruben’s surprise – a candlelit table
on the water’s edge. Heather smiled up at Ruben, who in turn cupped her face
between his hands and lowered his head. She felt his velvety lips, and closing
her eyes she responded. Pulling away slightly as she heard the car door open,
she heard him thank the chauffer and saw him place a little something in his
hand to show his gratitude
. A perfect romantic setting
, she thought,
stealing a glance at the open flame torches and their dancing welcome. They sat
holding hands across the table, gazes fixed on one another.

“Thought this would be
a lot more intimate than a restaurant.”

“You thought right,”
Heather replied.

Hearing muffled
footsteps, she turned.

“Hello,” she said, surprise
in her voice.

She grinned upon seeing
Sami’s familiar face. Dressed perfectly for the occasion, he passed her a menu,
before removing a serviette from the table and placing it over her lap. After
doing the same for Ruben, he stood, giving them a chance to browse.

“Thought I’d stick with
the Italian theme,” Ruben boasted, beckoning Sami to open the champagne before
glancing back at the menu. “Ladies first,” he insisted.