Belonging Part III (8 page)

“Then, came the kiss. A photo from an unknown number. You came through and I was fucking annoyed,” he kisses me again this time smoothing my hair down.

“You’re so beautiful. You’re mine.”

I open my eyes to look at him. He seems startled.

“So, why lie?”

He pushes himself back to look at me directly. “Lie?” he says as he raises an eyebrow.

“You told me, you wanted us to be together and who do I see on the plane. He gets up in anger.

“Sometimes, Deborah Withers, you’re so stupid.”

“What?” I screech out loud. He’s insulting me?

“If you’re going to act so dumb, maybe you’re not the woman I thought you were, maybe—”

“You need to be with Stephie?”

That’s the woman he thinks I am, but I’m nothing like her – I’m not beautiful, intelligent or anything else.

I’m just a mixed race, geek trying to act like a beautiful butterfly. To think that Roy will ever be interested in someone like me as a partner is just ridiculous. Roy puts on his clothes and storms out of the room. I don’t even try to stop him. I sit on the bed deflated thinking about all that he has said.

The photo, the bar, Hudson taking photos and I realise Roy is right.

I am stupid.

I
wake up and shower. One of the girl’s knock on the door to ask about brunch and if I’d be having any? She looks on the floor to see my ripped dress and her eyes widen at the sight of it. I pretend not to notice and agree to come up. I left my dress there in case Roy came back but he never did.

Then again, why would he?

Eagerly I change in case Roy’s in the house and I make my way up the stairs in my summer dress to the dining room. I debate about what to wear and realise that she never said anything about anyone joining me, so it will most likely be only me eating. Betty doesn’t do brunch. She has her three meals with her new slim figure, she doesn’t want it to change.  She worked hard with Peter to get to a size twelve. I still can’t believe the chubby housemaid is a sexy diva these days. As I make my way to the top of the stairs some maids greet me and smile weakly. I return their greeting with a half-smile of my own and open the door and hold my breath as I see his face. He’s wearing his deep blue suit and white shirt. He looks rested unlike before and he’s had a shower. His eye has healed up a little bit. I can hardly tell that a few hours ago he was in a fight. I rush over to him and at first he resists and then he gently presses his lips against mine.

There’s only one word I can think to say and that is, “Sorry.”

He brushes his hands against my face and holds me in close. He hugs me like we’ve been reunited for the first time.

“Can we go back?” I whisper in his ear.

“What?” he pushes me away to see if I’m serious. I fucked up and I want another chance. He owes me that. I had been toyed with. Shit, I’m not used to this world.

“I want to learn, I want you to show me.”

He nods and replies, “Next weekend maybe, I’m exhausted now. Let’s eat.”

My eyes dart across the table and I realise that Betty isn’t there. We’re alone.

“Outside?”

“Sorry?”

“I want to eat on the decking outside.” I need fresh air. Not be cooped up in this room. Not now. I peeped out of the window when I came up the stairs and for once the British summertime is actually hot and I want to take full advantage of it. I’m wearing my cream crossed summer dress with my breasts partially exposed and my hair tied up in a bun.

He comes behind me as I make my way out of the door and says, “You look so hot in that dress, I could fuck you right here and now.”

I whisper back, “Why don’t you?”

While Michelle takes the rest of our food outside for us to eat, he yanks down his trousers and lifts up my dress, shocked to discover that I have no underwear on. As he gasps and grabs my arse. 

“Someone, came prepared,” he whispers and he starts to rub his erection against my leg.

My pussy starts to drip anticipating his cock, which he thrusts inside of me. This time out of desire and with each thrust he claims how much he loves me and I return the same longings to him.  It doesn’t take long for both of us to cum. I hug him and beg for his forgiveness as his cock withers and returns to its normal length.

“I love you. Forgive me.”

“You were forgiven the moment I sat next to you on the way back home.”

“I don’t want to live here anymore.” I know that being under this roof and in this house, the one he shared with her is making me feel like this. It was her family home and visions of her walking down the stairs are playing tricks on my mind.

“You won’t have to for much longer. Let’s have brunch and talk.” He returns my kiss and holds my hand. We stroll outside to eat like lovers. Betty has some relatives in Scotland and has decided to spend the summer visiting them. Roy thought it was best that he and I spent some quality time alone together.

He explained about his rivalry with Hudson in more detail. I’m still unclear if my seat on the plane was by accident, but Roy concluded that with Hudson it was more likely on purpose. Finally, he told me the truth. They are brothers. Roy was brought up by his father, wealthy and prestigious. Hudson had been brought up by his mother, denied the rich life that Roy had received.

It was a rivalry of siblings. Hudson’s mother had been manipulated from day one by Mr Sparks. She was his secretary and they had a brief affair.  He had made sure that the truth was never revealed. Every time she tried to sue him or at least get support from him, he made sure that she lost her job or had to find a new place to live. He had an affair and knew that if his wife found out he would be divorced. He couldn’t afford that so he gave her a generous amount each month and ensured that she kept her distance. She did until Hudson was older and exposed the truth. Hudson had made a success of his business, but that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted Roy to pay for the mistakes that his father had made. I couldn’t understand why because it had nothing to do with Roy.

One thing for sure, I came to the conclusion that Hudson was a nasty piece of work. After Roy had confessed what was going on in his life – the truth – we returned to our room, as lovers, like we did before Hudson came into my life.

I
unpack, then I book my sessions with Peter my trainer from Monday onwards and life from here on out feels pretty good. I call Grandma and ask her if I can visit tomorrow. Roy had made it clear he wanted to catch up on business for the next couple of days, so I thought it was a good idea to catch up with my family.

“What you doing?” he asks as he enters the room.

“Putting my things away from my short trip to Paris. Problem?” I ask as I flop on the bed. I wasn’t expecting him to drop down on top of me.

“You’re heavy,” I scream as I push him aside. He moves and then pulls me on top of him.

“What do you want, Roy Sparks?”

He kisses me gently and questions, “Where are we moving to?” Really, he wants us to move? He wants this as much as I do. I’m so relieved by his question, I give him so many kisses on his lips. He laughs and says, “Wherever you go I will follow.” He stares at me for a brief moment, then releases my wild hair and it flops all over my face. I laugh. “Why are you laughing?”

“I look wild when my hair is out and you constantly want it out.”

“You look free and beautiful.”

Damn, he knows the right things to say all the time. I kiss him passionately as he moves beside me. 

He gets up and closes the door.  He starts to strip me and then he takes off my dress and bra. I take off his clothes and toss them towards the arm chair.  As we’re both naked in the bed, I wrap my arms around him and then we fall asleep. I sleep with the biggest smile on my face, I could get used to this.  Actually, I am used to this.

I
am woken by a kiss on the lips and apologies of work. Roy always connects with Dubai on Sunday. He says they work from Sunday to Thursday, but every other country works Monday to Friday, so it’s a good day to pick up with them.

I know the kiss means a jog on the treadmill, then he will be in the office pretty much the whole day. I get up and decide I won’t work out today. I’ll leave that for tomorrow when I start my sessions with Peter. Today I’m going to see grandma. It feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen her even though in reality it’s only been a couple of weeks. I pick up the phone and call her. 

“Grandma!” I shout as I hear the loud music playing in the background.

“Deborah. You back already?”

Hmm, forgot I told her that I was going to Paris.

“Yep. Roy and work.” Gosh, I hate lying.

“So, you coming over?”

“Sure, going to get in the shower and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Can’t wait to see you.”

“What’s the—” before I can finish asking her about the music she’s hung up. Great! Probably means that the house is full. I was just about to call Henry when I thought of the craziest thing.

There’s no need. I’ll just take the bus.  Shit, that was my life before I met Roy. I used to take the bus everywhere. I never had a driver and I don’t want to call Henry to take me out, especially on a Sunday. I feel good doing things I would do normally. I mean I’m not even working. I’ve never been accustomed to this lifestyle, it’s all new to me.

I grab my bag and run out the door with my knee length sky blue dress flowing in the air with my matching heels. Something about the colour blue that seems to set off my skin tone.  I love this colour on me.  As I was just about to close the front door I notice Carly, one of the new girls.

“Henry’s not outside.”

I reply, “I’m taking the bus.  I don’t need Henry. It’s a beautiful day. Bye.”

I shut the door and she smiles, whilst wishing me a good day.  It’s a nice summer’s day as I walk down to Victoria bus garage and take the number 2 bus to Tulse Hill. I’m not imprisoned in the house and for the first time in the last six weeks that I’ve been living with Roy I actually feel free.

I send him a quick text message to tell him I am taking the bus.

Roy: It’s a limo, not a bus.

He thinks I’m being sarcastic. Yep, I’m dating a billionaire and getting on the bus.

Me: The Number 2 bus.

Roy: A real bus?

Me: Sure. Next time you’re getting on one with me.

Roy: Double decker?

Me: Yep, why?

Roy: I’ll love to fuck you on top of a double decker bus ;)

I wait, wondering if he’s getting into the car to fulfil his fantasy. I start to get wet at the idea of us on the bus. I’m tempted to go home, but I don’t. I sit on the bus watching the men, women, families, couples all enjoying the hot summer day.

The bus drives down the familiar Brixton High Street. I’m tempted to get a Jamaican patty, those pies really fill me up. Or even explore the new Ghanaian restaurant that Grandma told me about. I’ve been brought up by the English side of my family. I’d never met my dad’s side of the family.

I thought about saving up and maybe visiting them one day. Seeing as dad had a new family with brothers and sisters that I’ve never met. I don’t even know if they know I exist. Wonder what he has told them about me? If anything. Maybe, that’s a part of his life he closed after he treated Mum so badly. Either way my siblings have nothing to do with the fact our dad is a piece of shit. They’re still my flesh and blood. I suppose this is the joy of being on the bus because your mind thinks about things, all sorts of different things. Then, the one reason I hate riding on the bus hits home. The dreaded pervert who thinks I’m on the bus to be his woman. As I try to get rid of him by completing ignoring him, I decide to send a few messages to Roy.

Me: You’ve got competition.

Roy: How old?

Me: Old, fifty like you.

That’ll get him going.

Roy: You’re going to get a spanking for that.

Me: Promise?

Roy: Promise ;)

After a while, I start listening to the delusional old man telling me about his interest in being my boyfriend or more to the point, my lover. Note to myself, no exposing my breasts on London transport. I look down at my chest the neckline of my top is low.  I try and lift it up, to try and hide or create some sort of dignity.  I wish I bought a cardigan or anything to cover it up.

“Me car’s in the garage see, that’s why me on the bus,” the overweight, aging Jamaican man says to me.  His accent is so strong and I can just about understand what he is saying to me.

Good for you!

“So, when me tek you out. It’ll be in me car and we can—” He winks at me. 

Hell no! Why would I even want to go anywhere with him? Seriously, why am I not moving to sit anywhere else?

I stop and look around to see not only is the bus full, but the oversized, middle-aged Jamaican man is practically squeezing me in my seat. Moving closer and closer.

“You see a fly woman lek you can’t be on the bus. You don’t have to worry about the age gap. Me only forty.”

I must need new contacts because there’s no way the man sitting next to me, constantly mistaking my leg for his own whenever he touches mine, is in his forties. His oversized stomach and his receding hairline give his age away. He’s slurring his words, which is probably the result of the alcohol that I can smell on his breath. He’s no match for Roy, not only in his physique but his bad breath and body odour too. I’m just about to get up because I can’t take it anymore. At first, it was a bit funny, now I just feel sick.

I realise the bus is at my stop. Finally, I’ve reached Tulse Hill. I jump out of the bus like a cat on a hot tin roof and walk up a small hill to the estate. I can see balloons as I walk up the hill hanging outside the flat.

Shit, what day is it?

I’ve been so caught up in Paris, Roy and Hudson that I’ve forgotten my Grandma’s wedding anniversary. She celebrates it every year since Grandpa died. I need to get it together. I need to buy her a present, before I go up there.

Hmm, there are benefits of having a driver especially on days like this, I think to myself. I wonder what’s open near-by on a Sunday without another bus ride?