Without You I Have Nothing (24 page)

BOOK: Without You I Have Nothing
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Peter kissed her so
further talk was cut off. Breathless, she pulled free.

“You’ll do nothing of
the kind,” Peter growled, but she only smiled.

“You haven’t rung me
all day and I was worried.”  Jennifer clung to Peter’s shoulders. “Tell me you
missed me.”

Encouraged, Peter
responded so forcefully she began to tremble.

“Steady on. I only
asked you to show me if you had missed me, not to corrupt me. Come and get
changed - perhaps a cold shower?”

She giggled as she
danced her way up the stairs, dragging Peter behind her.

“Get changed while I
wait here in the kitchen.”

Mystified, Peter
followed her directions and headed for the bathroom.

“Hey Jennifer, come
and give me a hand.”  He called through the sound of running water. Pausing he
waited until he heard her footsteps in the bedroom. “There’s an interesting
part here I can’t reach.”

Surprised by the lack
of response, he listened intently until he felt the icy water thrown over the
top of the shower screen splash down onto his shoulders.

The tinkle of gentle
laughter answered his bellow. “Anything else you need?”

The moment he
reappeared in the kitchen, fully dressed, Jennifer started her orders.

“Wait here. Don’t
move. Now it’s my turn.”  Taking a small bag she had smuggled into the flat,
she disappeared into the bathroom.

“I don’t need help.”

“What a pity. Are you
sure?”  Peter shouted through the firmly closed bathroom door.

He studied her clothes
and the delicate, lacy underwear lying on the bed and wished he could help
dress her. Peter had not the faintest idea of what Jennifer intended but she
had certainly come prepared.

Dressed in a casual
shirt and slacks and wearing his dress shoes, Peter made his way to the kitchen.
From there he yelled, “Would you like your back scrubbed?  My company motto is
'Satisfaction Guaranteed or Your Money Back'.”

“I can well imagine
that would be your motto, but no thanks.”  Jennifer stood at the bedroom doorway,
a towel draped carelessly around her.

Leaping to his feet
and scattering chairs, Peter dived for her, but slamming the bedroom door in
his face she just laughed,.

“You stay there and
clean up the mess. A lady must get dressed in peace.”

Within minutes,
dressed in a tan skirt that fitted her like a glove and a blouse that appeared
to be a deep green silk, Jennifer paused in the doorway for Peter’s admiration.
She looked stunning.

Her hair was loose
and flowing, just the way he liked it. Jennifer never wore much makeup other
than lipstick since her clear skin and flawless complexion made it almost
unnecessary. Before Peter could comment, she dragged him downstairs into the
street.

“It’s my turn to be
bossy now. Tonight I'm saying thanks for your help choosing my wonderful car
and for a glorious weekend of magical moments. So tonight you're my date.”

Squeezing his arm,
she opened the passenger’s door for him and waited while he belted up. She was
completely at ease and in total command as she drove off without telling Peter
anything about what she planned.

They ate, danced and
strolled hand-in-hand, rediscovering the pleasure of each other’s company as
though they had not seen each other for months, although it had only been the
previous weekend when they had been away together.

Back at the workshop,
they sat staring at each other, both unwilling to say “Goodnight,” until Peter
leant across to kiss her. “I'm sorry if I misled you.”  Laughing Peter
continued, “But I'm not going to invite you in for coffee.”  He looked at his
feet in mock maidenly modesty. “I don’t do that sort of thing.”

Punching his
shoulder, Jennifer roared with laughter. “Peter, you're a fool.”  She was still
laughing as she drove off.

Life was different. Confidently
secure in his love and proud that Jennifer was still unsullied - as she wished
- Peter found work a delight.

Days passed into
weeks as they played tennis together, went to the ballet, attended concerts,
enjoyed operas and developed their relationship around friendship and trust,
but still Peter was careful.

He didn’t ask
Jennifer to his apartment nor did Jennifer ask him to hers except for
occasional meals and games of chess. It was as if they both realized what fire
smoldered in their hearts. Neither wished to run the risk of losing what they
had.

Slowly, Peter learned
to control his jealousy so that when Jennifer gained the romantic lead in a
play he was content to be a stagehand. He wasn’t the least offended when she
had to kiss on stage, although he felt it most strange to watch her with
someone else. That was one battle he’d won.

Well, his mind told
him he had won!

Yet one Friday, his
jealousy was to be almost the end of their relationship.

“Miss Blake, please. Mr.
O'Brien speaking.”

“Miss Blake is out.” 
Jennifer’s Personal Assistant sounded peculiar. She knew something. “But if you
hold the line,” suddenly her voice became officious, “I’ll put you through.”

“Peter,” Jennifer
sounded breathless but excited. “I can’t stop. I’ve got to fly.”  She was too
excited to be bothered with Peter. “Someone very, very special to me is
arriving from Melbourne this morning.”

She could not know
how each word plunged a dagger into Peter’s heart and that with each thrust he
could feel himself floating into oblivion. His body was suddenly a shell around
an aching void.

“I'm off to the
airport to pick him up. We’ll meet tonight at the bar.”

A click and the call
ended. She did not even wait to hear that he was off to Bathurst yet again to
deliver the latest green and red monster. She was not interested.

Peter’s insecurities
surfaced as bitter thoughts, taking over his consciousness. His mind raced. ‘She
said pick HIM up. He was someone very special. Bitch!  Christ, have I been led
a merry dance?  She is keeping herself for her marriage!  I’ve been a moron. All
the time her love was in Melbourne. No wonder she’d been the Ice Maiden of
Sydney.

‘Just give me ten
minutes alone with Jennifer. Just let me get my hands on her. How she must have
laughed, knowing how she had hoodwinked me. To think of all the pleasure that
had been at hand - and I had thought I had been loving and caring. God, the
laugh was on definitely on me.’  Peter was burning with jealousy and hatred.

He was bitter - very
bitter and furious.

“Bad news?”  Joe
could read Peter’s face.

“Bugger off!  Get
lost!”  Peter didn’t mean to shout. “I'm going. You keep the shop going and
earn your wages for a change.”

Joe’s hurt look
brought some sense back to him.

“Oh, forget it, Joe. It’s
not your fault. It’s mine.”  Peter didn’t stop to bandy words but stormed out.

“What’ll you have,
Peter?”  The barmaid leant across the bar, her blouse bulging.

“This is twice in how
many years?  You're fast becoming a drunkard. Where’s your handsome friend?” 
Turning away, she began exchanging banter with the next customer.

Peter’s angry eyes
followed her as his confused thoughts crashed through his brain. He knew he
wouldn’t be in this mess if he could be a bit more like Bob, bloody Bob. Bob’s
‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ attitude wouldn’t have put him into this position. His
mind already dazed, Peter decided that maybe he should follow Bob’s lead.

Still Peter mulled
over the problem. ‘What was it Ted had said?  Women, they're not worth the
trouble. Bob a ‘cream puff’?  No, he was too smart.’

Peter’s mind
continued to race. ‘Even the barmaid is pining for Bob. She is pretty and sexy
in a coarse sort of way. 'Any port in a storm' would now be my motto. Anything
would be better than to have this ice in my heart. The Ice Maiden has touched
me, frozen my heart and moved on. Well bugger her, I will not allow her to
treat me like some lackey.’

Sighing, he studied
the beer in front of him.

“Hey, cheer up. It
may never happen. It’s not the end of the world.”  Bob’s cheery voice broke
into Peter’s anger before Bob turned away to address the barmaid.

“Come on, love. I
can’t complain about the service here. There isn’t any!”  Playfully, Bob
reached across the bar to pat the barmaid’s backside.

“A man will die of
thirst waiting for a drink - and I thought I was your favorite.”

Ignoring Peter, they
chatted - he using his charm and she, being coquettish but leaning far enough
forward to make certain the view would interest him.

“Monday night, I’ll
pick you up and let you down and pick you up and rock you off to sleep.”  His
leer left the barmaid in no doubt as to what he meant. She tapped his arm
lightly and left to serve other drinkers.

“I got a shock when
Joe told me you stormed off. The two of you work together so well.”  He leaned
an arm across Peter’s shoulders. “Come on, confess. What’s wrong?”

“Business worries,
that’s all.”  Peter hoped he sounded convincing. If Bob and Ted ever found out,
they would soon crow the truth from the rooftops. Their smug looks and ‘I told
you so’ attitude would be more than he could bear.

“It’s Friday,
remember?  Meet you tonight - same place, same time.”  Then Bob was off.

The one time Peter
wanted to sit and do nothing, everyone else was in a hurry. Blackness rolled
into his soul. Even Jennifer was busy elsewhere. That hurt!  It hurt so much
that the pain was physical. Leaving the hotel, Peter made his way slowly back
to the workshop, planning what he would say to Jennifer.

She had said she
would meet him at the bar. Bob expected to meet him there so Peter knew where
he would head after work.

That evening Peter
drove to the bar where he had first met Jennifer and furtively concealed
himself in the dimmest corner.

Unseen, he watched
Jennifer, with her ‘special’ friend, enter and move to sit with Bob and Ted.

The friend’s arm was
around her waist and she walked with such a spring in her step it was obvious
that he certainly was ‘special’. It was no wonder!  He was as handsome as
Jennifer was beautiful. His hair was dark, and although slightly taller than
Jennifer, his body was a lithe feline, yet masculine version of Jennifer’s.

Bob would be jealous.
Here was someone who outshone his good looks.

Jennifer was
obviously excited. With an action bred from years of familiarity, the ‘someone
special’ slapped her tail and pushed her down into a seat before bending over
to laughingly whisper into her ear. She ruffled his hair and sparkled.

Peter searched for a
scrap of paper in his wallet. With his mind racing, he believed this was no
place for him. His mind moaned with complaint, warning him he could not
tolerate being with Jennifer and her ‘someone special’. If he waited here any
longer, the resulting explosion would definitely be dangerous for everyone.

Scribbling a note, he
handed it to the barman, specially requesting that he hand it to Bob. ‘Sorry I
couldn’t stay. I’ve seen enough - more than I’ve ever wanted to see. Tell
Jennifer they make a lovely couple. I wish them well for their future happiness
together – Peter.’

Stumbling out of the
bar, his mind a red, seething mass of molten anger, he headed for the workshop.
‘I have to deliver that damn truck and there is nothing - nothing at all to
keep me there in the bar.’  His mind shrieked to the workshop ceiling -
shouting to the world. ‘It seems that I have been alone all my life – I am a
loner now and would be a loner from now on.

‘One thing is clear. Wary,
like a lone wolf, I will take my share of the lambs. Like a wolf, I will be
bloody dangerous.’

Peter was careering
downhill completely out of control.

Immersed in his
thoughts, he hardly felt the soft touch on his arm as he stood gazing at the
truck. Never before had he hated a vehicle but he believed there had to be a
first time as his hand went to the ladder leading up to the cabin.

“Peter. Whatever’s
wrong?  You look as though the end of the world has arrived. You look
dreadful.”  Susie’s soft tones melted into him and Peter’s eyes clouded over as
he turned to face her.

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