A Song for Joey (18 page)

Read A Song for Joey Online

Authors: Elizabeth Audrey Mills

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance

BOOK: A Song for Joey
11.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"We can't get to know each other properly with a film blasting away. And I don't want
you spending money on me - for one thing, it doesn't impress me." I didn't tell him the
other reason, the one that really bothered me, the thought of being bought. "We can get
fish and chips, then sit in the park and eat them."

So that afternoon, we met in the public gardens at Chappelfield. It was a smouldering
summer's day, the air was still and heavy, people were waving newspapers in front of
their faces - not for the English the practicality of a fan. We sat on a shaded bench beside
the bandstand, empty and silent that day, like a wedding cake without those little figures
of the bride and groom on top.

Luke was ill at ease, unsure whether to behave as a gentleman or as a wild suitor, and
lacking experience in either role. Taller than me by a clear head, thin as a broom handle,
with neatly cut red-brown hair, he looked to me like an undertaker in his black suit and
polished shoes.

Nervously, he lit a cigarette and offered me one. I shook my head.
"No thanks, but it's ok if you do."
He lit it, then sat staring at the red glow.
"Have you had many girlfriends?" I asked, to break the uncomfortable silence.
"Oh yes, loads," he answered, too quickly.
I waited for more, but realised there was none.
"I brought a picnic," I said brightly, indicating the basket that Dolly had helped me to

fill. "Would you like to eat now? We could sit under a tree in the shade."

He nodded, and helped me to lay out the blanket on the grass. I started to remove the
various treats from within, rather like a magician producing objects from a top hat. My
silly sense of humour made me giggle when I imagined myself, as the finale, lifting a
table and chairs out of the little basket. He asked what had made me laugh, and I
explained my random thought, but he seemed unable to appreciate the humour of it.

The meal proceeded painfully, awkward silences punctuated with brief exchanges:
"Would you like a sausage roll?"
"Yes please."
"Thank you."
"Will you pass the sauce, please."
"Certainly."
"Thank you."
The sandwiches vanished, the lemonade slowly descended in the bottle
After a while I found a slightly more successful line of conversation:
"Tell me about your family."
"Oh yes. Well, it's just my mum, my sister and me. My dad was killed in an accident at

work. He was a farm labourer and died when he was crushed in a machine. After that, we
were thrown out of the tied house, and Mum brought us into Norwich to get a council
flat."

"Do you have a job?"
"I'm an apprentice at the Caley chocolate factory."
"That sounds interesting." (
Talk, for goodness sake!
)
"No, it's boring. All I do is make tea for the engineers. I go to college three days a week,

except I don't go, I bunk off." He paused, and I sensed he was waiting for me to make
some comment. I refrained.
After more uncomfortable silence, I asked if he wanted any more to eat or drink.
"No thank you," he replied, formally.
Tired of trying to start some kind of meaningful conversation, I said, rather more acidly

than I intended: "Help me to pack this stuff back in the basket, then."

That done, he walked me back to the pub. I hoped he would hold my hand, but he
shuffled silently beside me, hands in his pockets. When we arrived, I thanked him for the
date, and began to push open the door.

"Erm ...," he began, then rushed on, as though afraid he would lose his nerve, "would
you like to come and meet my mum and sister? Mum told me to ask you to dinner."
"Thank you," I replied with an amused smile. "That would be nice. When?"
"Sunday."
"Ok, Sunday is my day off, and I don't have any gigs this weekend. What time shall I
come round?"
"Mum said twelve o'clock for dinner at one. She said to tell you it's roast beef."
"Thank your mum for me, and say I'll be happy to come."
He smiled, then seemed lost for words again. Unexpectedly, he suddenly leaned toward
me. I saw his face looming, and realised he intended to kiss me. I let him, but turned my
head so his lips met my cheek.
As he turned to leave I said: "Where am I going for this dinner?"
Once again he was thrown into confusion. "Oh yes, of course. It's Kensington Place, the
flats in City Road, number 67, on the top floor."

-♪-♫-♪

Sunday dinner with Luke's family was a much livelier affair than our date had been.
His mother, Maggie, was chatty and friendly, welcoming me and talking freely. A big
table was laid in their living room, covered with a bright cloth and set for five. The fifth
place was for Maggie's boyfriend, Graham, a tall, stocky man in his fifties. Luke's sister,
Daisy, was also easy to get along with, and dinner proved to be a noisy occasion, with
everyone talking at once and food being constantly passed around, or stolen from
someone's plate. By the end of it, I felt relaxed and happy.
I helped Maggie and Daisy to clear the table and carry the washing up into the kitchen,
while the men went to the pub. When all was done, Daisy asked if I would like to listen to
her new Beach Boys LP. I told her I loved music, and we went into her bedroom.
It was a colourful room, with posters of Duane Eddy, Billy Fury and James Dean pinned
to the walls. Much giggling ensued as we sang along to the tracks, each with a hairbrush
as a microphone. After a few songs, we flopped down on the bed to catch our breath,
while we listened to an older album by Buddy Holly and The Crickets.
"So, you and Luke - have you had it yet?" she suddenly asked.
"Had what?"
"Sex, silly!"
"No, of course not," I said, trying to sound shocked.
"Why not, can't he get it up?"
I chuckled. "I've no idea and don't intend to find out."
She stared at me, intently, for a moment.
"You a prude, then?" I was learning that Daisy was outspoken and blunt.
It was my turn to study her. A beautiful mass of hair, red-brown like her brother's but
with blonde highlights, tumbled in waves over her shoulders, framing a pretty face with
too much make-up. I guessed she must be about eighteen, maybe seventeen, with large,
bright eyes that gleamed with a joy of life.
I didn't want to appear naive, but neither did I wish to discuss my experiences while
with Burroughs, which would make me seem like a whore. "Nah! But I don't do it with
just anyone, I have to fancy them first."
"Don't you fancy Luke?" Still that challenging, probing look.
"No, he's too young." I grinned, remembering that he was actually my age, he just
seemed younger.
"What about girls? You ever played with girls?"
That was a shock, and not something I had ever thought about. What's more, she had a
searching look to her eyes as she waited for me to answer. To cover my embarrassment, I
shook my head and looked away.
"I have," she announced. "It's better than with blokes. Girls know what's good, none of
that fumbling and useless groping." She paused, studying me carefully.
"You ever kissed a girl?"
I laughed; “Nooo!”
Suddenly, she leaned toward me and kissed me lingeringly on the lips. After a
momentary shock, I found myself enjoying it, and I responded, moving my face against
hers as our mouths wrapped together.
When we finally parted, she stared at my face, which I could feel was flushed. Her own
had an amused expression. I couldn't believe how the experience had affected me, and
returned her gaze, trying to understand what had just happened.
"Nice?" she asked.
In reply, I draped my arms around her neck and kissed her again. While we were locked
together, she gently but firmly pulled me down, so we were lying side by side.
"That's better. You're nice to kiss, you taste like vodka," she said. I giggled, feeling
relaxed.
A decision made, she sat up and peeled off her tee-shirt, shaking her hair loose, then
reached behind her back with both hands and unhooked her bra, proudly releasing her
breasts for me to see. I felt my eyes open wide with surprise. Perfectly formed, with
brown areola and plump, erect nipples, they were swinging a little as she moved, rising
and falling with her breath. I gazed at them hypnotised, then reached up and touched one,
curiously, stroking it, my fingers gliding over her nipple. She closed her eyes, an
expression of pure pleasure filling her face.
She ran her hand up under my jumper, where she discovered that I don't wear a bra - I
don't need one, nature had not been as generous to me in the boob department as Daisy.
She gave a little cry of delight when her hand cupped one of my little gems.
"Belinda, your tits are wonderful! I wish I had smaller ones, these are a damn nuisance
most of the time." She grabbed her own, gyrating them as though to ensure I knew what
she was talking about. "I can't run without them flying all over the place, and blokes never
look at my face when they talk to me, they just stare at my boobs."
Suddenly, she reached over and pulled my jumper up over my head. I raised my arms to
help her, feeling slightly shy. But as soon as it was off, and she gazed admiringly at my
skinny chest, I began to feel a surge of wantonness flood through my veins. I grabbed her
again, pulling her body close to mine so that our breasts were crushed together. My
nipples were tingling with excitement, and I could feel myself becoming aroused.
From that moment, passion engulfed both of us, and we writhed together, our hands
caressing each other all over. I felt her pulling at the top of my jeans, and I reached down
to help, popping the stud and running the zipper quickly down. Then I raised my hips to
help her as she pulled them down to my ankles, from where I kicked them into the air.
Her own jeans joined them, then our knickers, and we rolled on the bed, naked, kissing
and exploring each other.
I felt her hand between my legs, and I opened them to admit her, then gasped with the
surge of excitement that made my body shiver.
She taught, and I learnt. I had never been raised to such heights of passion, even when I
had played with myself, and certainly never with any man. I returned every touch, every
kiss, until eventually we both cried out together as our orgasms coincided.

-♪-♫-♪

By the time Graham and Luke returned from the pub, Daisy and I had dressed and
rejoined her mother. The three of us sat around the kitchen table, chatting easily, several
empty mugs before us measuring the passage of time in cups of tea consumed.

We heard the front door shut and the two men drifted into the kitchen unsteadily.
Graham flopped into the empty chair next to Maggie and leaned forward to kiss her on the
cheek. The expression on her face told everything.

Luke staggered over to me and put his hands on my shoulders from behind. "Hello babe,
he slurred from somewhere over my right shoulder, with more bravado than he had ever
shown when sober.

Then his face suddenly appeared close beside mine and he planted a wet kiss on my
cheek. Astonishingly, he then moved his hands from my shoulders to my breasts, and
squeezed them. I was on my feet in an instant, turning as I rose, and slapped him hard
across his face.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," I shouted, my nose inches from his. I was
breathing heavily, anger replacing the feeling of pleasant euphoria that had previously
engulfed me.

He stepped back, stunned by the violence of my reaction, unable to speak, his hand
rubbing the cheek where a bright red patch was rising. Out of the corner of my eye I could
see the other three with various expressions of surprise and amusement. Recovering, Luke
took a step toward me, a scowl on his face, his hand rising to retaliate. Not allowing him
time to complete the move, I moved closer to him, so that again our faces were only
inches apart.

"You're drunk, Luke. You stink of beer. But drunk or sober, no-one is allowed to touch
me like that unless I first invite them, have you got that?" I heard my voice falter as I
realised the irony in what I had just said, following my earlier romp with his sister. He
was blinking furiously, whether it was because I was spitting in his eyes in my fury, or to
hold back tears of pain, I could not tell, but he made no further move.

"I said 'HAVE YOU GOT THAT?'," I shouted. He nodded, keeping his head down, and
I turned to the two women, ignoring the smirking Graham, who I blamed as much as Luke
for getting him that drunk. Tears of anger and embarrassment were by then coursing down
my face. "Thank you for the lovely dinner, Maggie, I have to go now."

Daisy was on her feet then, launching her own tirade at her hapless brother: "Cretin!"
she shouted. "You've just ruined a lovely day." Then, with hardly a pause, she turned on
Graham. "This is all your fault. You know he's not used to drink."

Graham's expression of amusement vanished instantly from his face, replaced by a
scowl. "Shut up, brat, or I'll teach you some manners," he growled, his gravelly voice
carrying clearly the threat of his words.

It was Maggie's turn to lift her ample frame from her chair. "That's enough," she said to
Graham. "I will not have you threatening my children. I want you to leave my house now,
this moment."

"Nothing would make me stay," spat the man, grabbing his jacket from the back of the
chair and marching, lurching, to the door.
"And you," she continued, turning to Luke, as we heard the front door slam, "get to your
room and stay there."
"Sorry, mam," her son mumbled, dejectedly.
"Don't apologise to me, young man, it's Belinda you should be saying 'sorry' to." She
hefted her hands onto her hips and glared at him, meaningfully.
"Sorry, Belinda," he said quietly to me, his chin on his chest.
I had sat down again, my legs were shaking and tears were running down my face. I
couldn't speak. I reached out a hand and touched his arm to acknowledge his apology. He
patted my hand, then left the room. Maggie and Daisy both stood up and came to hug me.
"You don't have to go," Maggie said softly. "I'll make us all another cup of tea."
I nodded. "Thanks Maggie. Sorry I reacted like that and caused so much trouble. What
about you and Graham?"
"Oh, don't worry about him. We were finished anyway, he was just using me and I was
too lazy to dump him. You did me a favour, although I wouldn't mind betting he will be
round here tomorrow with a bunch of flowers and wheedle his way back into my life. He
knows when he's well off."
We sat, subdued and quiet, drinking our tea, and when it was done, I set off for home.
Daisy took me to their front door.
"Come again, Belinda," she whispered. "There's lots more we can do together." She
leaned forward and brushed her lips against my cheek, then held my face in her hands and
kissed me passionately, her tongue pressing into my mouth. It was over in a second, but
left me breathless.
"I'll be back, Daisy," I said hoarsely.

Other books

Sins of the Heart by Hoss, Sarah
The Viking Hero's Wife by DeVore, Catherine
Dual Release by Tara Nina
Kitten with a whip by Miller, Wade
Complete Short Stories (VMC) by Elizabeth Taylor
Stuff We All Get by K. L. Denman
Courting Her Highness by Jean Plaidy