Memoirs of a Wild Child (14 page)

On first glance, I suspected he was European, maybe German, or Russian. He was pale, and tall, wearing a shirt and trousers, which just seemed weird on holiday, and in this heat.

“Hola,” he said, looking over his glasses at me, and I was about to reply when Rosie leant around me,

“Buenas noches, señor,” she said, smiling wide.

“Oh,” he looked at her and then me, then her again. “No, sorry I was talking to her.” German, he was definitely German and had clearly exhausted all of his Spanish.

“Well,” Rosie spoke again, making me laugh, “I’m the Spanish one of the two of us I’m afraid.”

While Germany tried to process that the tiny green eyed redhead next to me was Spanish and I, the dark haired, dark skinned giant, was not, Rosie and I laughed and enjoyed our first shot of tequila, before walking away, buckets in hand, towards the dance floor.

I was having so much fun. The great thing about Thailand, especially when you have a world map to conquer, is that there are people there from all over the world, all just looking for a great time.

Rosie and I danced so much that I had to tie my hair up to stop it from sticking to my neck with sweat. I was easing off on the alcohol and just drinking water as I was so dehydrated.

Rosie went to get us some more drinks, and I found myself surrounded by men of all nationalities and skin colours, Rosie passed me my drink and laughed,

“Look, Ro, I have my own dirty Benetton advert,” I called out, causing us both to laugh even more. I saw her get her phone out and obviously text Jackson, but as she looked so happy, I decided not to chastise her this time.

We danced together and enjoyed a glass of rum and coke as we had taken to alternating between alcohol and water.

When I saw Jackson arrive, I protested playfully, that he was ruining girls’ night. But secretly, Mr Mexico was seriously hot, and I wanted to take him home, so I was happy for Rosie to change the rules. Germany pulled me back to the dance floor, and I let him. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with me, but seemed harmless enough, if a little ‘touchy feely’. Although I told him in no uncertain terms a few times, to keep his hands to himself.

I loved seeing Rosie so happy; she had fallen hard and fast for Jackson, and it showed. It worried me a little because he wasn’t the commitment type but watching them kiss and smile and dance together made me happy. It was nice for her to be so free, it had been such a long time.

While I danced with my band of merry men, I watched them, kissing and dancing, smiling and laughing and I loved it.

I felt hands on my hips and the unmistakable sensation of an erection pressing against my arse, I turned to see Germany, who had not stopped hassling me all night and pushed away from him.

“You need to back off,” I said as plainly as I could, he was really starting to piss my off.

The Greek guy, who I suspected was actually gay and just wanted to dance, spun me so that his back was to the German, and he was in between us. I smiled at him, and he winked, before taking my hands and continuing to dance with me.

The German walked away, clearly annoyed, but seemingly getting the hint.

I headed to the bar and ordered a drink. Germany stood next to me at the bar and placed his own order, but didn’t even look in my direction, so I assumed he had got the message.

I turned to look at Rosie and Jackson; they were dancing happily; Jackson spun Rosie and her wild red hair caught the lights as she laughed, freely. I turned and paid for my drink, before walking back to the dance floor, sucking the cold liquid through the straw without taking a breath, I was so thirsty.

I danced for a little while longer, when the alcohol seemed to hit me like a high-speed train; out of the blue I was smashed. I tried to get Rosie’s attention, but it was loud, and she was wrapped up in Jackson; I needed air.

I started to make my way to the front of the bar, and I fell into a table on my way, knocking a bucket to the floor. It splashed onto my feet as I stumbled out of the way. I steadied myself on a pillar as the night air hit my face, and then it all went black.

“Pippa, can you hear me, honey?” I heard Jackson’s voice, it was loud and made me scrunch my eyes shut. My stomach churned, and I heaved as I felt my body move, I realised I was being pushed onto my side, and then I was sick. I felt like I was stuck in a dream, I knew what was happening, but I wasn’t in control, I couldn’t quite feel it, couldn’t open my eyes, couldn’t stop any of it from happening. “Have you ever seen her like this, Rosie?” Jackson spoke again; it echoed in my ears, and then I head Rosie’s voice.

“Never, Pippa never drinks more than she can handle.” Tears pricked my eyes, and I tried to open them. I felt a surge of strength and tried to push myself up and then I was floating.

Cooper’s moans from the baby monitor distract me, but he is soon breathing softly again. I think about that night. How Jackson cared for me, how he’d carried me, and made sure Rosie and I got home safely. I start to write again.

I don’t know how I got there but the next thing I knew, I was sitting in the lobby of the hotel, throwing up into a waste bin. I was still woozy, not really understanding why I felt so awful. Rosie was next to me with her face in her hands; I tried to talk to her, ask her what was happening, but I didn’t have the energy.

I heard the sound of a motorbike and Rosie stood up, there were voices, one was Rosie’s, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying; I just wanted to go to sleep. Someone sat next to me, and I opened my eyes, it was Jackson. He held a hand on my forehead and kissed my temple, and then he put an arm around my shoulder, and I rested my head against his, I was so tired.

They were talking again, but I was drifting, and then there was nothing.

I woke to Rosie sitting on my bed and stroking my hair from my face; I felt groggy and totally dehydrated.  As if she knew, she handed me a bottle of water, and I sat up.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, concerned, and I was confused.

“Awful. I didn’t realise I had drunk so much.” I said, before gulping half of the bottle of water.

“Pip, you didn’t, hun,” she looked at me, and I return her gaze, confused. “That German guy spiked your drink, babe. Jackson and I found you passed out in an alley, luckily before he had a chance to come after you.”

I felt sick.

“What?” I questioned, shocked. “Are you sure?” Tears pooled in my lower lids and Rosie took my hands in hers.

“Yeah, Jackson went back and confronted him. He found,” she paused, “evidence, so he, kicked his arse.”

I choked on a laugh.

“Jackson beat up a guy for spiking my drink?” I was disbelieving, I hardly knew Jackson. He hardly knew me other than the slutty best friend of the girl he was shagging. The best friend who can’t sing but does sing when it comes to karaoke, and who had warned him off about three times in just over a week.

“Yeah,” Rosie looked amused, and a little proud. “He was really angry.” She bit her lip to suppress a laugh, but mine escaped, taking hers with it. It wasn’t funny, not at all, but the emotion of what had happened, and what could have happened, made us hysterical.

When we stopped laughing, it hit me, I could have been raped. My laughs turned into sobs as Rosie wrapped her arms around me; I’d been giving my body away for years, but he wanted to take it, without my permission. The realisation terrified me, and I suddenly felt ashamed, dirty. I wanted to shower; I needed to feel clean.

In the shower, I thought about my life; I was a slut, I’d call myself a whore if I got paid for it, and if I did, I’d be a bloody millionaire. I thought about the kids in the nursery; they lived in a country where people have to sell their bodies to provide for their families. Their innocence taken to put a meal on the table and I just give it away.

I was disgusted with myself, for the first time in my life. I realised that I had been one of the women making things difficult for others. I may have been in control, may have chosen that lifestyle, but a man in a bar, watching me dance with loads other men, grinding against them and pressing my tits into them, didn’t know that. All they saw was a whore who was asking for it, and I was. After having me, the next time they saw a girl dancing, they would assume she was asking for it to. What if girls had been raped because men assumed they wanted it, after being with me, and me being so easy? I felt sick again and held onto the wall to steady myself. I knew I was probably being over dramatic, but my thoughts were in a bad place. I felt frightened, for the first time in over a decade, I felt scared of men.

Except Jackson, I thought. The man I had warned to stay away from my best friend only days earlier had been the decent man who took care of me last night. He had roused me from unconsciousness, carried me to a taxi, before going back to defend my honour and then carried me to my bed. There was hope; I thought; if a man who I believed had no respect for women, could take such good care of someone he hardly knew, there was hope.

I washed up and tried to push away the thoughts of last night. It was easier said than done, but I pulled on a bikini and painted on a smile, before convincing Rosie to come down to the pool with me.

As we lay in the sun, Rosie drifted off to sleep, and I couldn’t help but think about my life again. A man from a few sun loungers down jumped into the pool, and I looked up. His tiny daughter stood at the edge of the pool with armbands on, as he surfaced, and held out his arms for her. I watched as she nervously edged forward and tried to sum up the courage to take the leap. He encouraged with his words and a huge friendly smile on his face and then she did it, she jumped into the water, and her daddy’s waiting arms and I smiled, wide. That was what I wanted, what I needed. Promiscuous Pippa was gone; I was staying away from men until I was ready to really give it a go with someone, one man. It was time to change.

I hear Cooper stir in his bed, and I put down my pen. I look down at my words on the page and sigh. “We did it, Vinnie,” I say, proudly. “Now we can move onto the good stuff.

Ben

“Hello,” Rosie says cheerfully, as I open the door, shocked to see her as she and her daughter Beth, walk past me into my house.

“Erm, what are you doing here?” I ask, confused.

“Well, that’s a nice way to talk to the woman babysitting your children all weekend.” What? I’m so confused.

“What are you talking about, Ro?”

She smiles. “Your darling husband is taking you away for a dirty weekend, and I’m playing Mary Poppins.”

“Where’s Holly?” Beth asks as she notices that house is quiet, and tidy.

“She’s at school, princess.” I return my gaze to Rosie. “What about Jackson and the boys?” I ask, trying to process everything.

“Oh, they’ve gone camping. So when Ben called and asked if he could drop the kids off at our house for the weekend, I told him me and Bethy would come here instead.”

“Well, where is he taking me, and when?” I ask, realising I’m still standing by the open front door. I shut it as Rosie smiles and Beth looks up at me.

“Auntie Pippa, you haven’t said hello” I smile and lean down to give her a hug and a kiss.

“I’m sorry, Bethy, hello.” I smile, and she grins back, before running off to find Holly’s toys.

“Well, Pip, I suggest you pack now, as you’re leaving when he gets home from work,” she takes her phone from her bag and starts to read a text message from Ben. “Tell her that we’re going to the place where she gave in and realised she loved me after all, and tell her she may not need clothes at all if I get my way.” Rosie starts to laugh and my stomach flips, I grin, I know exactly where we’re going.

I pack a bag while Beth plays in Holly’s room, and Rosie sits on my bed reading Vinnie.

“Holy shit, Philippa, this is graphic.” She looks at me, red-faced and I laugh.

“Says the woman who writes lady-porn for a living,” I reply sarcastically.

“Yeah, but that’s fictional.” She grins, devilishly, “mostly.” I laugh and turn to retrieve a couple of sex toys, some lube and the new lingerie I had bought as a birthday treat for Ben from the top drawer. Eyeing it and smiling, but not asking questions, Rosie turns Vinnie over in her hands.  “So, are you finished now?”

I smile and shake my head. “Almost, I just need to write about Ben, about us getting to this point, and about the wedding, and then I’ll be done.” She grins, widely and I know she has something to say. “What?” I ask sharply making her laugh.

“I just love you two together. You’re adorable. I never would have thought you’d be married to Ben Long, and have two kids, and be so happy, well, I never thought you’d be married to anyone.” She laughs, and I throw a pair of knickers at her face, she laughs harder, “They better be clean.”

Ben brought Holly and Cooper home; he smiled when he saw I was packed and asked if I was ready. We packed up the car and made our start on the long journey to our weekend away.

We arrived late, but my heart skipped when we checked into the same hotel, and the same suite, exactly where things changed between us, where it became real. I had my husband to myself for a whole weekend, and I hadn’t realised how much I had missed that.

***

I wake early the next morning; my body clock is finely tuned to Cooper time. Ben doesn’t seem to have a body clock at all, and when the kids aren’t around, or at least, aren’t being noisy, he can sleep all morning.

I look around the room and smile; I feel happy here. I climb out of the huge bed and go to make myself a coffee. Ben sighs and turns over in bed, and I know he’s not waking up for ages yet, so I take Vinnie from my bag, I did promise him the good stuff after all.

After making my drink, I sit on the sofa and pull the faux fur throw over my legs. I take a sip, sigh as I enjoy the taste, and open Vinnie.

I was due to fly to Portugal for the Christmas after we got home from Thailand. True to my word, I hadn’t been near a man since we landed at Heathrow; I even threw out my little black book. 

Jackson and Rosie had met up back in London and were finally an official item. I knew it was alien to him to be monogamous, but I had to hand it to him, he was really trying, and was clearly head over heels for Rosie. So, when he called and asked me to delay my trip a bit and go home to Buxton but not tell Rosie, I had a sneaking suspicion a proposal was on the cards. Rafe, of course, had received the same cryptic message, so we all headed up there together.

I was right, of course, but it was still emotional for me to watch my best friend get engaged. Jackson knew how important it was that we were there for her, so despite being totally out of his comfort zone, he put that big old emerald on her finger in her parents living room, with us all there to witness.

We celebrated hard, and the following day celebrated Christmas, ‘Alvez’ style, which meant loads of food, lots of drink and their annual trip to the pub.

When we walked into the pub I was already three sheets to the wind, I looked around, full of Christmas cheer, smiling at the people I have grown up around, my eyes lighting up at the sight of the karaoke machine… and then I saw him.

Behind the bar was one of the most beautiful specimens of the male species I had ever seen… and it was Ben!

When I left Buxton at eighteen, loveable Ben was studying for his A Levels and was as obsessed with me as ever. I was a total nightmare at that point, sleeping around, a lot, drinking and starting to dabble with some recreational drugs, but none of it mattered to Ben. All he saw was the woman he knew he’d be growing old with, the love of his life. He asked me to stay, said he’d be eighteen soon and the year age gap wouldn’t matter as much, I, of course, turned him down, telling him he meant too much to me, as a friend, and I left.

Ben aced his exams and after a gap year travelling the world, he went away to university and by the time he came back, I was at a stage in my life that meant I didn’t really come home much. I was always busy and travelling, and if ever I saw my parents, it was either when they came to visit me in London, or when we met up in Portugal for family holidays. Therefore, I hadn’t seen Ben in about eight years.

In the time that I had been away, Ben had obviously worked out, a lot. He was gorgeously toned; the way his grey t-shirt was just a little too tight on his biceps had me shifting on my barstool. The fact that one of those beautifully defined arms was tattooed from top to bottom, with an ornate black and grey tattoo of exotic flowers and paisley print, was making me practically pant like a dog on a warm day. Ben was hot, no doubt about it, and I was dripping just looking at him.

The curly mop of hair on his head was now a buzz cut, and the rough stubble on his cheeks and chin was divine. I couldn’t help but imagine the rough graze of the short hairs on my throat, my stomach, and my inner thighs. I wanted him, so much so that I found myself squeezing my thighs together against my desire.

I sat with my second family for a while, but couldn’t resist going back to the bar to talk to Ben.

“You look great, Pip; as always.”

Ben smiled his trademark cheeky grin as he pulled a pint for Jackson. His dimples were as cute as ever, but that was about the only thing that was still ‘cute’ about Benjamin Long. I couldn’t believe that I was thinking it, but he was damn sexy.

“You look good too, Ben, really good.” I might have been salivating. I know I had made an agreement with myself to change my ways and settle down, but I just wanted to climb him like a tree.

“So, are you still going to marry me then?” Ben leaned forward, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the bar. I laughed. A strange sound that escaped my mouth, a girly giggle that I had never heard come from me before. What the fuck was that?

“Maybe, you’re still a bit young for me though.” I was gradually pulling my swagger back. Ben pushed back on the bar, stretching out his arms to full length and gloriously flexing the muscles in his forearms as he let out a shocked laugh.

“Come on Pip, let me take you out,” he said, cocking his head to the side as he tried to convince me. “I’ve wanted to take you out for like, twelve years. Put me out of my misery will you? Just one date.” He grinned, and my breath caught in my throat. Shit, he was fucking beautiful.

I wanted to say no, it was second nature to do so, but I couldn’t. All I could think about, as the smell of his aftershave filled my nostrils and the alcohol from a Christmas Days’ worth of wine flowed through my veins, was fucking him senseless. No, it was of him fucking me. For the first time in my life, I actually wanted a man to be in total control in the bedroom, and it was Ben!

“One date,” I said matter of fact, holding out one finger to make the point as Ben eyed me curiously.

“For real? You’re actually going to go out with me?” he questioned, disbelieving.

“Fuck it, yeah. But you need to feed me, okay?” I was serious. I love food.

Ben laughed and leant forward again on the bar. “You’ve got it, Carvalho; I’ll pick you tomorrow at seven.” My breath caught in my throat, and I was about to protest that he wanted to go out so soon, but he held one finger against my lips, silencing me and making me tingle all over. “Don’t even think about arguing. This is happening.” He winked at me before turning and walking to the other end of the bar to serve another customer. My mouth fell open in shock before I turned and slowly walked back towards Rosie. What the fuck just happened?

“Wow.” Ben’s eyes widened as I opened the front door at a couple of minutes past seven. My parents were, as always, in Portugal for Christmas so I had the house to myself. I had chosen black, skinny jeans and a black, Bardot top to wear. It was very ‘Sandy from Grease’ and I felt great in it. “You look fantastic,” he said sincerely, looking very pleased with himself, and honestly, super-hot in his jeans, Superdry hoodie and beanie hat. It was absolutely freezing outside so I asked him to come in while I looked for my biker books.

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. I hated that I wasn’t completely ready for his arrival. Me, worried about being late? That was new. “I just don’t know what I’ve done with them.”

Ben smiled, “Don’t worry, we’re not in a rush. The place we’re eating at will serve us whenever we’re ready.”

“Won’t we lose our table though?” I questioned as I spotted my boots under the stairs. “Aha!”

“No, there’s only us booked in, all night, and I know the chef personally, so we’re good.”

I sat on the stairs and pulled on my boots. It was too cold and too icy for heels. I zipped them up and took the hand that Ben was holding out to me to help me up. “Ready?” he asked as we stood, hand in hand, our faces just inches from each other and a new electricity passing between us.

I took a deep breath, “Yep, I’m ready.” And I really was.

We left the house and started to walk down the street, I realised that Ben didn’t seem to be heading towards any of the cars and was confused.

“Where’s your car, Ben?” I asked, curiously.

“Oh, we don’t need it. We’re not going far.”

I frowned as he grinned. The only place in the village worth eating at was Rosie’s family’s restaurant, where I had worked, where Ben had worked. No way, I was not eating there. I couldn’t go on a date with Ben, somewhere where I would be watched all night by friends and family who have known us both since we were kids, not a chance.

I was about to say something when Ben stopped and turned to face me. “Here we are,” he said holding out his arms to the side. I looked up at the house behind him and then at his stupidly cute, distinctly nervous looking face. “I thought, as we know so many people around here that I would cook for you, here, at my place. That way, it’ll be more private.” It the glow of the moonlight I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, but it was perfect. I was so happy just to be able to kick off my shoes and relax in his company; this was weird enough without sitting in a restaurant with the eyes of the village boring into us.

I smiled. “That sounds bloody perfect, Ben. Thank you.”

Pleased with himself, he turned on his heels, and we made our way up the front path. The ‘house’ wasn’t actually a house at all. It had been once, a large Victorian one with high ceilings and ornate mouldings to decorate the space. It had at some point been converted into two large two bedroom flats, and Ben’s was on the first floor.

I had no idea what to expect of Ben’s place, I hadn’t really even given it much of a thought, but honestly, the boy had great taste. I suspected that he had probably spent the entire day cleaning, in anticipation of tonight as it was spotlessly clean. But the furniture, the decoration and the little touches that he had chosen to adorn his home were effortlessly stylish and comfortable. He’d put a lot of thought into his place, I liked that, but it didn’t surprise me.

Ben was very well-dressed, well-groomed and clearly looked after his body, so why wouldn’t he put the same effort into his home?

He ushered me inside, telling me to make myself at home, before offering me an array of drinks; beer, wine, tea, coffee… I opted for wine.

The living room, kitchen and dining area were all a huge, open-plan space. I took off my coat as I looked around at the artwork and photos hung on the walls. Ben put on some music and lit some candles on the mantelpiece, dining and coffee tables, and then took off his hoodie.