Forever Is Over (99 page)

By the time I was with Brad, I was no longer tolerant. When I met
him in Cairns, I liked his confident charm and cheeky smile. I also
liked the fact that he was Australian, as all my previous boyfriends had been European, so I figured variety was the spice of life. Seven million
Aussie blokes to choose from though and I went for Brad! An error on
my part but he wasn
’
t all bad, he was an adrenalin junkie, which I loved
as my natural state had gone from risky to cautious and I found with
Brad, I
’
d push the boundaries back out.
The problem I had with Brad though, was that early in our
relationship, even after the first few weeks, I started to find his traits and
mannerisms irritating. In fact, some qualities I liked at the outset, were
the ones I found most irritating as time passed. When our relationship
started I liked the fact that Brad was tactile. He would think nothing
of seeking out a full blown kiss on the middle of Cairns Esplanade. I
remember finding it cute that he thought so much of me that he wanted
the world to know. When he tried to do the same thing in Brisbane,
a couple of months later, I remember asking him, firmly, to keep his
wandering hands off me!

Brad
’
s snore was another thing I bizarrely found cute initially. If
we were in a hostel, often in a mixed dormitory, it felt like he was
comforting me, even when he was asleep. That was what I thought for
the first few weeks. Several months later, when we had worked our way
down to Sydney, it became so irritating I felt like smothering him with
a pillow! I managed to talk myself out of murdering him, I already had
one death on my conscience, a second and I was well on my way to being
a mass murderer!

On the long list of
“
Irritating Habits of Mr. Brad Hughes
”
, sexual
noises would also rank very highly! As well as the sexual mutterings
which made him feel more like my coach than my lover, he also came
out with sexual babble of the cheesiest order. He said things like,
“
I
’
m
going to be your dentist and give you a good filling!
”
and
“
The Snake Is
In The Grass!
”
, it was the biggest turn off ever! To add further insult to
injury, at climax, he would make a bizarre noise like a mouse! It seemed
like he was trying to stem a grunt, but what came out his mouth, whilst
his fluids were departing, was pretty much a high pitched, mouse like,
“
Eek
”
!

As we had spent the majority of our nights in hostels, we were
normally booked in to a dormitory, which meant that sex was off limits,
even tactile Brad drew the line there,
but in Coffs Harbour, Brad had
pre-arranged for us to stay with an old University friend, Shane, and
it was in Shane
’
s spare room that the
mouse first appeared. At that
point, admittedly, I found it endearing, despite several of his other
habits driving me crazy by then, as I just thought that Brad was being
discreet, not wanting to disturb his friend with an ejaculatory yell, but
in Churchtown and Queenstown in New Zealand, we stayed in hostels
that had double rooms available and I was less sympathetic when
“
Jerry
”
,
as that cry became known, re-appeared.

I know I
’
m horrible, but it was not just the phys
ical and nocturnal
habits I found irritating. Brad drank more than than any other human
being I had met since Mum died and at a speed that would even have
impressed Mum, if she had remained amongst the living. He also ate
junk food like he believed rationing was imminent and farted like
he believed the smell of his gases could be bottled and sold as an
aphrodisiac. How he wasn
’
t fat, I really do not know, but somehow he
managed to stay in shape.

Brad had a collection of annoying habits, but until we reached Franz
Josef Glacier, I did not consider them to be significant enough to want to
end our relationship. I have mentioned all the negatives, but there were
positives too, the main one being, as I said, that he always looking for
the next thrill. He even persuaded me to do a bungee jump at Kawaru
Bridge in Queenstown, something I never would have dreamed that I
would do and I am sure I would not have done, if Brad had not coaxed
me into giving it a try. It was the biggest rush I have ever had and when
I sat in the boat at the bottom, looking back up at the bridge I had just
thrown myself off, I just could not believe that I
’
d done it. I have always
said that my middle name is
“
Risk
”
, which reflected that I would take bold options in life, not that I would take life threatening options! This
time,
“
I came, I saw, I bungee jumped!
”

Brad was really excited about visiting the Franz Josef Glacier. It was
a glacier that was around eight miles long and sloped down from the
Southern Alps to around three hundred metres above sea level Every
photo looked spectacular and Brad really wanted to do a day
’
s hiking
on the glacier itself, saying it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and
we owed it to ourselves to do it. I may have been persuaded but he said
exactly the same to me about bungee jumping and as a result of Kawaru
Bridge, I was totally skint! A day
’
s hiking was going to cost over one
hundred New Zealand dollars (about forty five quid) and I had not done
more than the odd days bar work since I had met Brad, so I had no
choice but to opt out. I told Brad that I would be happy having a wander
around Westland National Park, where the glacier was located, but I
must admit, when I waved him off early that morning, I was more than a
little jealous. His tour was not only taking him onto the glacier, but also
into it too, there were photos of previous hikers squeezing in between
tight crevasses between two sheets of compact ice.

As it turned out, I actually had a lovely day on my own, as I
meandered around the park. It was a chilly day and I was thankful that
I had purchased a lime green sock hat in Queenstown, that clung to my
head like a joey to its mother
’
s pouch. By mid-afternoon, my feet were
aching, so I sat myself down on the valley floor, with a book and a flask of coffee, occasionally looking up at the immense glacier that spilled its
way down to the valley floor like freezing lava.

Coach parties came and went, which I did not take too much notice
of, as I was immersed in my book, but at one point I felt someone
peering down. My immediate thought was that it was Christian, my
Swiss ex-boyfriend, as we had met in similar circumstances on Hong
Kong Island. I looked up to discover that this time it was actually a
young woman that was staring intently at me. This was unusual. Men
staring down had been commonplace throughout my travels, but not
women. For men, an attractive young woman reading was too good an
opportunity to miss out on, as they could use the book as an excuse for
a glib chat up line, so, over the years I had had to politely respond to
the likes of,

“
Any good?
”

“
I
’
ve read that! It
’
s good isn
’
t it?
”
This usually transpired to be a
lie, or
“
I won
’
t spoil the ending!
”

A woman staring at me was different, there was no hidden romantic
agenda. I returned the stare. There was a vague familiarity about this
lady. She looked like an athlete, I wondered briefly if she was a famous
runner or tennis player. She was in her twenties, was girl next door
pretty, with straight black hair and skin littered with brown freckles.
She was wearing a long pair of shorts, hiking boots and a thick sweater.
It was her bronzed, muscular calves that made me think that she was
an athlete.

“
I know you from somewhere!
”
she announced with a Northern
English accent,
“
are you from Ormskirk?
”

“
Yes, I am! Small world! I recognise you too,
”
I said,
“
I just can
’
t
think where from though! It
’
ll come to me in a minute!
”

“
Did you go to Cross Hall?
”
she asked.

“
No, Ormskirk Grammar.
”

“
Town Green?
”
she asked, meaning the Primary school.

“
No! Greetby Hill!
”

She scratched her head.

“
This is going to drive me mad! How old are you?
”

“
Twenty three,
”
I answered.

“
I
’
m twenty five. Maybe I
’
ve just seen you around Ormskirk. Stood
next to you in a bar?
”

“
I doubt it. I moved away quite a while ago now.
”

“
This will come back to me!
”
she insisted,
“
My name
’
s Anna, by the
way, Anna Eccleston.
”

The name meant nothing to me.

“
I
’
m Kelly. Kelly Watkinson.
”

“
That
’
s it!
”
Anna announced excitedly,
“
you went out with Richie
Billingham, didn
’
t you? I remember meeting you once on Clieve
s
Hill,
I was walking my dog with my Mum. We stopped to talk to Richie and
he introduced us to you!
”

I felt my cheeks flush. I remembered that day. Richie and I had been
fooling around a little at the
‘
Sunny Road
’
and had spotted someone
coming so had dressed in a hurry and then I was mortified when it
turned out that Richie knew them.

“
I went to school with Richie. He
’
s lovely Richie, isn
’
t he?
”

“
He is. Lovely guy.
”

“
I went to Primary School with him and the Grammar. I always
had a bit of a soft spot for Richie! He was my first love! We used to
chase each other all over the playground when we were in the infants!
I remember kissing him behind the annexes on the school field! Sloppy
kisser!
”

I took the jibe personally, so defended Richie,
“
He
’
s improved!
”

Anna Eccleston
’
s eyes suddenly lit up as the penny dropped regarding
my family history.

“
Shit! You had all that stuff going on with your family, didn
’
t you?
Did your mother not die?
”

Anna was not one to beat around the bush! I had two choices
at this point, I could politely make my excuses and leave Anna or I
could finally, after several years, find out what had been happening in
Ormskirk since I had fled.