An Untimely Romance: A Time Travel Romance (9 page)

Ruben’s gaze wandered
to the patio windows. A thickening mist hanging over the trees had replaced
yesterday’s sun.

“Typical,” he grumbled.
“Looks like we won’t be flying today after all.”

“Flying?” Heather
asked, a sudden rush of excitement taking hold.

“That was the plan. The
airfield’s only a forty-minute drive from here. Got me licence this time last
year. Oh well, maybe tomorrow...”

Beth picked up on
Heather’s disappointment. “I have an idea,” she said, taking her phone from her
handbag. “Ruben, be a love and finish the bacon off.”

Pressing a number into
her keypad, she disappeared into the bedroom. A few seconds later, she poked
her head round the door.

“Heather, have you got
any skin allergies?”

“Not as far as I know.
Why?” 

“That’s great, sorted,”
she announced. “We’ll see you at half eleven. Thank you,” she said, ending the
conversation.

She pulled out a chair
and sat next to Heather as Ruben plated up their breakfast. Beth dominated the
conversation while they ate, mainly telling them about her antics the night
before, and Frank’s drunken behaviour.

An hour later, Frank
walked out of the bedroom looking whiter than white.

“Liven up,” Beth said
as she wiped down the work surfaces. “We’re off out in sec. Get this cuppa down
ya.”

Still feeling nauseous,
Frank sipped at the lukewarm liquid, oblivious to the fact that he’d actually
been drinking alone. From the strange looks he kept giving her, it was clear
that he couldn’t work out why she was waltzing around as fresh as a daisy.

“You’re a lightweight,”
she laughed, but Frank either couldn’t be bothered to respond, or didn’t feel
up to answering. “We off then?” Looking at the time, Beth grabbed her handbag.
“Just checking I’ve got my purse...” 

“Are Heather and Ruben
accompanying us?” Frank enquired.

Looking around, he
gasped, focusing on the closed bedroom door, putting two and two together.

“They’re in the car
waiting,” Beth said. She could see a slight smile on Frank’s face, but
nevertheless continued. “I asked Ruben to quickly check my oil and tyre
pressure after the journey.”

The weather was gloomy
and depressing, and the air felt damp. With the moisture clinging to their
skin, it was almost like being back on top of Snowdon. Frank sat in the front
seat next to Beth where he thought there would be less jolting – far better for
his hangover.

“Well, Beth, you’re
very secretive. Where you taking us?” Heather asked, looking at her in the
rear-view mirror.

“It’s weather
appropriate, and I’m sure you’ll love it.”

She didn’t intend on elaborating
further, so turned on the radio and hummed along as she drove. Heather sat back
and relaxed, enjoying the journey, but wondering what on earth Beth had
planned. She looked at Ruben, then Frank, and back at Ruben, who seemed to have
a change of clothes for every day. Although casual, he always liked to look the
part, and today he was in yet another pair of sweat pants and a tight-fitting
black sweatshirt she hadn’t seen before. Meanwhile, Frank had no dress sense
whatsoever and looked like he was on a golfing holiday, wearing the same bland
attire as he had done the night before. Beth, on the other hand, looked nice
dressed in a pair of brown tailored trousers and low-cut cream top that tied at
the waist. Her striking red hair was tied back neatly in a French plait.

As they approached the
village, they passed a few houses and then turned to meet a row of shops.
Slowing down, Beth indicated left, veering into a small car park that probably
only had space to hold around ten cars, if that.

“Doesn’t look much of a
day out to me,” Heather whispered in Ruben’s ear.

“Shhh, wait and see,
you’ll love it.”

Heather frowned. Was
there anything at all that he hadn’t done with Beth? The whole Beth and Ruben
facade had already begun to put a dampener on the day ahead.

They followed Beth into
a beauty salon. The receptionist was on the phone, but looked up with a
familiarity on her face upon seeing Beth.

Replacing the phone,
she said, “I’ll let them know you’re here.”

Smiling, she
disappeared through one of the many doors.

They sat not far from
the entrance of the waiting room, which was a reasonable size. To the left was
a mirrored wall with high-back swivel chairs for hairdressers and at the far
end, on the opposite side, was a nail extension station. There were half a
dozen staff busying themselves with a group of women of varying ages; it was
obviously a wedding party. Heather watched with interest as their hair was
styled with loose cascading curls clipped into place, complemented by
jewel-encrusted tiaras. She felt almost sorry for them, as the sun had no
intention of showing its face that day. Perhaps it was a trial, but somehow she
didn’t think so.

“Hi, stranger, long
time no see.”

A blonde-haired
therapist dressed in a white tunic and trousers walked up to Beth, and leant
down to give her a friendly hug.

She looked from Beth to
Ruben, and said, “Your therapists are ready for you now.”

Beth stood up, and
turning to Frank she took his hand and pulled him from his seat.

“Come on then.”

“By the way,” the therapist
said, addressing Ruben and Heather, “your therapists are running over slightly.
You can either wait here, or if you’d prefer, you can undress in the treatment
room.”

Ruben’s eyebrow raised,
and he nudged Heather discreetly.

“Robes are hanging up
on the door, and you can make yourselves comfortable on the couches. They’ll be
with you as soon as possible; sorry about the delay.”

“Yeah, love, that
sounds great.”

“Would you all like to
follow me?” the therapist said, walking towards a door that led them into a
narrow corridor, taking them away from the hairdressing area. The size of the
salon from the reception was deceptive, and there must have been a good twelve
treatment rooms. The therapist beckoned to Beth, smiling as she opened a door.

“Your therapists today
will be Laura and Gemma. If you’d like to undress and make yourselves
comfortable, they’ll be with you shortly.”

“See you later, guys.
Enjoy; I know I will. Hot stone therapy is out of this world,” Beth sighed,
taking a confused and awkward-looking Frank by the hand. “Come on, this will do
wonders for ya hangover. I promise, you’ll feel like a new man by the time
Laura has finished with you.”

The door clicked shut
behind them.

“And this is your
treatment room,” the therapist continued, stopping three doors later.

“Are we having the
same?” Heather asked before entering.

“No, Beth’s booked you
both in for a chocolate massage.”

“You’ll smell good
enough to eat then, won’t you, girl?” was Ruben’s cheesy comment.

Heather felt his hands
on the cheeks of her behind as he playfully pushed her into the awaiting
treatment room.

“By the way, my name’s
Judy. I will be your therapist today. We’re just waiting for Jackie. There’s
been a few hiccups with the bridal make-up, but not to worry, just go in and relax,”
Judy said, closing the door behind them.

The room had a very
comfy, almost intimate feel to it. Soft soothing music played in the
background, the quartet of flautists adding to the relaxed atmosphere. Fresh
aromatherapy oils emitting a rich scent of lavender smouldered away in lavish
oil burners around the room. The walls were painted in subtle shades of beige
and rich brown, and two couches made up like beds with silken throws lay just
far enough apart to be able to walk between them. Luxurious towelling gowns, as
promised, hung on the back of the door.

“Can’t see a ‘Do not
disturb’ sign,” Ruben said as he looked around, “but I can go one better,” he
muttered, turning the latch on the door and making damn sure they had total
privacy.

Getting Rather Hot

“W
ell, I don’t know about you, but I’m not standing ’ere for me bloody
health,” Ruben said.

Heather could feel his
eyes undressing her.

“Come here, girl, lift
ya arms up.”

Scared to disappoint
him again, Heather obeyed. She could feel his hands and the tips of his fingers
against her skin, intimate as they moved up her sides and shoulders. Then he
slipped her T-shirt over her head, and while taking her next breath, she heard
the zip of her jeans, which were then lowered to her ankles. Bending down,
Ruben kissed her thighs, and she felt his tongue caressing her legs while
looking up into her eyes approvingly. Standing slowly, he picked her up and
took her into his arms. Heather instinctively folded her legs around his waist.
Closing her eyes, their lips met in a lingering kiss. Ruben groaned as he
pulled away, running his teeth over her ear and then biting the lobe. Then he
gently lowered her back so she was resting on the couch.

“Stay there,” he
panted, his breath laboured, shimmering beads of sweat around his temples. With
one hand he ripped off his T-shirt, and Heather lay back, admiring his tattoos,
which looked so sexy and vivid in the subdued lighting. His sweatpants soon
joined his T-shirt underneath the couch.

“Look what I’ve found,”
he whispered sensually, dipping his fingers into a black ceramic pot at the top
end of the couch. “Looks like you’ll be having your own private massage today,”
he giggled.

Caught up in the
moment, Heather relaxed back on the bed, opening herself up to him. Closing her
eyes, she felt the rich warm chocolate and Ruben’s hands as he applied a slight
pressure and carefully massaged the sweet-smelling dark substance over her
stomach. She felt it trickling into her belly button and lying there like a
pool, then his tongue circling...

“Don’t taste much like
chocolate to me.” He gagged, but he was not put off for long. “I’m going to
smear chocolate over every inch of your body,” he murmured, running his fingers
seductively around the outline of her lacy French knickers.

Heather reached up,
stroking his arms and pulling him closer. He now lay on top of her, and she
once again wrapped her legs around him, tightening her grip, and their kisses
became more and more intense.

Maybe this is it
, she thought to herself.

“Hello?” a voice
shouted, followed by a knock on the door.

“Oh shit!” Ruben said,
and jumped up. “I’m coming,” he called, almost falling off the couch.

Heather quickly slipped
under the covers, wiping herself down as best she could. Grabbing a robe, Ruben
unlatched the door and opened it, presenting the therapist with a large smile
and a face smeared in chocolate.

“Sorry, love, it’s been
a good twenty minutes; had to do something to keep ourselves occupied,” he
said, stopping mid-sentence after seeing the therapist’s expression. “No, we
didn’t do owt, well, not like that anyway,” he went on, digging himself a
bigger hole. “Just found the chocolate and...”

“Yes, I think I can
see,” Judy replied.

Jackie then arrived and
seemed to find it all quite amusing.

Heather and Ruben lay
side by side during the massage, eyes closed and holding hands. Ruben softly
rubbed the inside of her palm with his forefinger. Turning to face him, their
eyes met momentarily. No words were spoken between them, there didn’t need to
be, for closing her eyes once again she knew just how badly he wanted her.

Almost in a dream
state, they heard one of the therapists say, “We’ll leave you relaxing for five
minutes; we’re just going to fetch the hot towels.”

Once again, the
therapists left them alone.

Heather’s eyes opened
slightly and she looked at Ruben under her lashes. His eyes were still fixed on
her.

“No more excuses,” he
said. “I’m having you tonight ... all night.”

Heather closed her eyes
and she quivered at the thought. It had taken her a while, but he was the one,
and she knew now she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Once they were both
dressed and feeling very relaxed, Ruben reached into his pocket and gave each
therapist a tip.

“What’s the damage
then?” he asked the receptionist, reaching for his wallet.

“You’re okay, it’s
already been taken care of.”

“Talking about Beth,
any idea where they’ve gone?” Ruben asked.

“No. I saw them leave
I’d say a good half hour ago.”

“Okay, thanks,” Ruben
replied, placing his arms around Heather affectionately as they left the salon.
“Knowing Beth, she’ll be having a coffee somewhere, or moseying around the
shops. She’s always on the lookout for a bargain. The kids live in second-hand
hand-me-downs. Bless her, though, she tries,” he continued as they made their
way back to the car park.

“Ruben, they’re in the
car,” Heather said, relieved upon seeing them chatting in the yellow Mini
Cooper. The last thing she felt like was being dragged around shops.

They took a slow drive
back to the tree house. The car smelt more like an expensive boudoir, with all
the different scents of aromatherapy oils left on their skin from their
treatments.

“Told ya she’d been
bloody shopping,” Ruben said, seeing a couple of plastic carriers on Frank’s
lap.

“Actually, you’re
wrong,” Beth replied, her eyes meeting his briefly in the rear-view mirror.
“There was a car boot at the back of the church. Not a lot there to be honest,
just picked up a few bits and bobs. There is one thing I picked up though that
I thought we could have a laugh with later, over drinks.”

“Go on,” Ruben said,
leaning forward with interest. He took a peek in the top of the bags. “And what
the bloody hell do you plan to do with that when you get home? I’ve got enough
of your crap in the flat...”

“What is it?”

“It’s stupid, Heather,
I wouldn’t even bother asking,” Ruben said shaking his head. “Don’t believe in
all that superstitious malarkey anyway, and neither do you.”

“Is anybody going to
tell me what it is?” Heather said, getting quite annoyed at being left out of
the loop.

“It’s a Ouija board...”

Its presence unnerved
her after the unexplainable happenings of late, and it was the last thing she
wanted to think about, let alone participate in, afraid of what door she may
open next.

“No, I don’t want that
thing within a hundred miles of me. Get it out of the car!”

“You’re joking! Cost me
a fiver. And whether you want to do it or not, it’s coming home with me. It was
Frank’s idea to buy it anyway.”

Heather shook her head,
sinking back into the seat.

~•••~

Six o’clock approached. The afternoon had
flown by, and Ruben was taking them out into town to treat them all to an à la
carte meal at a small restaurant that he and Beth had visited on a couple of
occasions. He’d only packed one shirt, which he thought would be fitting for
the occasion. He and Frank sat chatting awkwardly in the lounge. Ruben had
opened a couple of cans, hoping the alcohol would get some kind of conversation
flowing, Frank being a man of very few words. Meanwhile, Heather and Beth
dolled themselves up, alternating between the Jack and Jill en suite and the
small mirror in the main bedroom.

“The food’s fantastic
there; you must try the venison, it’s to die for,” Beth said, applying a second
coat of pink lipstick.

Heather smiled. She
felt quite at ease with Beth, and a growing confidence in herself and Ruben’s
relationship after what happened at the salon. A loud banging on the door made
them both jump.

“Bloody hell, Ruben!
The table’s not booked for another fifty minutes,” Beth shouted. “Give us a
chance!”

“Beth, it’s mum.”

Beth’s face dropped.
“How bad this time?”

“Bad,” Ruben replied.
“She’s back in hospital, we’ve got to go.”

He walked in, phone in
hand, and sat on the bed, his face a mixed emotion of anger and disappointment.
“The worst of it is, I’m well over the limit.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll
drive,” Beth said, trying to calm him down. Turning to Heather, she added,
“We’ll come back in the morning for you and Frank.”

“What’s wrong? Couldn’t
we all go in the morning?” Heather asked, not able to understand what the
sudden urgency was.

“Can’t explain now, but
no,” Ruben said. “Give us five to grab a couple of things.”

He left the room.

“What on earth’s
going on, Beth?”

“It’s complicated to be
honest, and not really my place to say,” Beth said, changing back into her old
jeans and the top she had travelled down in. Seeing Heather’s face, she must
have thought better of it, and so, lowering her voice, she tried to explain
Ruben’s mum’s predicament.

“What I’m about to tell
you isn’t common knowledge; in fact, it’s quite hush, hush,” Beth began as she
sorted through the wardrobe, throwing what she could into her travel bag. “Her
problem, or should I say condition, goes back years, and probably started not
long after Ruben was born. Angela suffers from bipolar; you see, I’m her
psychiatric nurse... That’s how I met Ruben, on a home visit. It’s a mental
illness and she’s very unstable, especially during her lows. I dread to think
what she’s done this time. Ruben’s been really affected. His dad’s always been
in denial and buried himself in his business ventures, constantly throwing
money at Ruben, almost as a way of buying his silence, so Ruben spent his
childhood at home with an untreated manic depressive. He was there through the
highs and the lows, and he told me many times he used to hide under the bed to
escape her violent outbursts.”

“Oh my God!” Heather
gasped, placing her hand over her mouth.

“I know, poor Ruben,
eh?” Beth continued. “She was assessed about ten years ago and as a rule the
medication has kept her stable ... when she remembers to take it, that is.”

Pausing briefly, she
popped into the en suite and returned with her toiletry bag.

“Don’t worry, Heather,
we’ll soon have things sorted,” Beth said, giving her a reassuring hug.

She grabbed her bags
and walked back into the lounge, where Ruben was pacing the floor, clearly
agitated. Heather followed them onto the veranda and watched them through the
stairs banister.

“Don’t worry,” Heather
called down, “I’m fully comp. I’ll drive your car back in the morning.”

Ruben looked up before
running back up the staircase and wrapping his arms around her.

“If you’re sure,” he
said, passing her the car keys. “Satnav’s in the glovebox. I’ll text you
later.” Holding her wrist firmly, he jibed in a low voice, “Don’t forget I saw
Frank with his hands all over you on the stairs, but never again will I be made
an idiot out of by you or any other girl, so make sure you behave yourself.”

Kissing her on the
forehead, he turned and headed down the stairs. Beth sat revving the engine,
and he hurried towards the car. He looked over his shoulder briefly and gave
Heather a quick wave, before disappearing into the passenger seat. The car
moved away between the trees and within seconds was engulfed by the evening’s
mist.

Heather couldn’t face
Frank. She felt almost afraid, like she was being unfaithful to Ruben. But
why should she feel like that? She pulled out a chair on the veranda and sank
down onto it, feeling perplexed and totally at odds with her feelings. After
all, she hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was her stomach in knots? She had a
gut-wrenching feeling that wouldn’t leave her. She leant forward on the table,
resting her head in her hands, and breathed deeply as she watched the mist
rolling in to join her. 

She heard footsteps,
and she could feel Frank’s presence without even turning.

“Do you mind if I join
you?” he asked, a big smile on his face as he placed a mug of tea on the table
for her and pulled out a chair beside her.

“Yes, actually I do,”
Heather said angrily. “All you’ve done since we got here is ruin this weekend
for me, and cause trouble between me and Ruben,” she snapped, her face
reddening. “I mean, does it really look like I need a chaperone? If I want to
sleep with Ruben or anyone else for that matter, it’s my decision, and none of
your bloody business. What’s wrong with you anyway? Haven’t you got a life?
Friends, or your own girlfriend?”

Frank said nothing and
lowered his eyes.

Placing his hand softly
on Heather’s shoulder, he said sheepishly, “If I’ve caused you any distress,
Miss Richardson, I am dreadfully sorry.”

Tutting, Heather was
now on a roll. “And another thing that’s been bothering me, why do you speak
like a bloody toff? Actually no, more like you’re from another planet? And the
name’s Heather, not Miss Richardson!”

“I’m sorry if my manner
offends you. I do feel my speech has improved greatly since being in your
company.”

“Ha, if you think so,”
Heather scowled. “Just go away and leave me alone, Frankie.”

“It is a dangerous game
you play, a detrimental edge to your character.”

“Games? I don’t play
bloody games. Can’t you see I’m not thirteen any more? People change, so stop
living in the past and get a life.”

A sadness enveloped
Frank’s face. “That’s all I want. I see now that I’ve been living under a
misapprehension, so I think goodbye is in order, Miss...” He paused briefly,
correcting himself. “Heather.”

She watched him as he
disappeared down the steps and walked into the woods. He didn’t stop once or
turn back. She sat for a while, looking at the trees, sure that he’d return.

“Bloody hell, Frankie!”
she cursed.

On reflection, she
couldn’t quite believe how she’d spoken to him, her rudeness unforgivable; it
wasn’t like her at all, not in her nature. It would normally take a lot more
than that to get under her skin; it was usually only her dad who managed to rub
her up the wrong way, always knowing which buttons to press. Shutting the patio
door, she ran down the steps calling his name, but there was no answer. With
the mist and fading light, Heather ran into the forest and soon lost her
bearings. Her hair, wet from the mist, now hung lank like rats’ tails around
her face. Blinded by the damp air, she stood panting for a second, rubbing her
eyes, but everything looked exactly the same, and whichever way she turned,
there was no sign of the tree house or Frank anywhere. Panicking once more, she
started to run, breathlessly zigzagging between the trees, unnerved by the
rustling leaves. She ran until she could run no more, and, collapsing to the
ground, she lay sobbing uncontrollably.