Second Chances (12 page)

Finally,
Luke pulled up outside a building which was apparently where he lived. He switched off the engine, removed his helmet and, finally, when Liz showed no sign of releasing her grasp around his waist or even moving, said: ‘You can let go now.’

‘Where are we?’, she asked, mortified at having been so oblivious to anything except Luke that she hadn’t even realised the bike had stopped.

‘My place. There’s a bottle of Jack Daniels in there with your name on it, I believe.’

Liz smiled. ‘Finally, a man after my own heart.’

‘It’s not just your heart I’m after,’ he said, as she struggled to get off the bike without totally losing her dignity. Why was it that on the one day of the year that she decided not to wear trousers but a tight dress instead, she ended up on the back of someone’s very large and very powerful motorbike?

She
ignored him because she knew if she tried to speak now, she’d just end up flinging herself at him in a frenzy of lust and knocking him and his bike over, and they’d lie there in a heap, crushed by a ton of hot, gleaming metal until someone came to rescue them, if they were lucky enough. She shoved the helmet back in his hands, grabbed her bag and tottered off towards the building, then stopped because she obviously had no idea which flat was his.

Luke
sprinted past her up the stairs, turning around to make sure she was following. Good, she was. Chuckling to himself because she was still doing that tight-lipped disapproving thing, he got up to the second floor, unlocked his front door, went inside and left it ajar. Liz, following rather more slowly as she was hampered by five-inch heels and had lost sight of him anyway, knocked tentatively on the door when she finally got there. It swung open and she hesitantly stepped through the doorway.

Inside
the dimly-lit flat, Liz caught a whiff of aftershave and cinnamon; a nice, manly combination of smells. And blow me down, was that Ziggy Stardust playing on the stereo?

‘Luke?’ she whispered. She had no idea why she was whispering, but it was dark, and she felt like she should keep her voice down. Where was the man? Playing hide and seek? Or maybe he’d gone to find his axe so he could hack her into little pieces and bury her in his backyard. Except of course that he didn’t have a backyard, being in a flat on the second floor and all that.

She
jumped as she heard the door close behind her, then jumped again as an arm snaked its way around her waist.

‘Now can we stop playing silly games?’ asked Luke, his voice hoarse. ‘Because I have a much better idea of what we could be doing instead.’

Liz
felt as if her entire body was crackling with sexual electricity and she knew there was no going back. Dropping her bag, wrapping her arms around him, they kissed, urgent, rough, hard; their hands pulling at each other’s clothes… Liz heard someone moaning and realised it was herself.

‘No, stop, keep the stockings on,’ he whispered into her ear, licking her earlobe, thrusting his tongue inside her ear. ‘And the heels.’

Her
dress fell to the floor and he stepped back for a moment to look at her. Creamy white skin almost glowing in the half-darkness, large, full breasts which threatened to spill out of the burgundy lace bra, flat stomach, perfectly shaped legs encased in black stockings held up by a burgundy lace garter belt, French-cut knickers which revealed the lower curve of her pert bottom. He ran a finger from her chin slowly downwards, between her breasts, down to her belly, her navel, lower and lower, until his hand was between her legs and he heard her gasp as he pushed his fingers inside her, feeling the warm, soft wetness there.

Pulling
off his jeans and boxer-briefs, Luke sank back onto the sofa and pulled her on top of him. Liz straddled him, breathing hard; he was completely naked and she could see his arms, his chest, beautifully toned without being scarily muscular, a light sprinkling of golden hair over his torso and thickening below his bellybutton down towards his groin. She eased herself backwards, down onto her knees, kissing his chest, his belly, his thighs; then, once positioned between his legs, glanced up at him with a coy smile and took him in her mouth.

Luke
groaned as Liz alternately licked and sucked him, moving her mouth up and down, her tongue making slow, tortuous circles around his shaft until he could feel he was seconds away from coming and… his entire body tensed as he climaxed in her mouth, his fingers twisting through her hair, Liz continuing the exquisite pressure with her lips until he was done.

She
raised her head, straddled him again and kissed him. He could taste himself, it was the most intense experience he had ever had. Now she was leaning forward, brushing her breasts against his face, he began kissing her nipples, pushing the lacey fabric aside to lick and taste her skin as his hand made its way inside her panties, his fingers probing and parting and stroking. Feeling himself get hard again, he pulled the lacey crotch aside and thrust himself inside her. They moved together as one, fast and intense as she grabbed the back of the sofa, holding on as wave after wave of delicious, sweet orgasm finally swept over her.

Much
later, when they had moved into the bedroom — stopping along the way in the kitchen, against the wall, on the dining room table — she watched him as he slept, flat on his back with one arm raised up over his head, peaceful and content. Liz had had her share of men, but she knew from that first tight knot of anticipation in her belly when he’d made his way through the crowded bar towards her that Luke was something else altogether. She wasn’t sure if she liked the idea or not.

Chapter Eighteen

JUST AFTER 11PM, Allegra turned the radio off in disappointment. No Jackson Flye tonight, which was unexpected. There’d been no prior announcement in the lead-up to his show. Instead, there was suddenly some doddering old twit who had a Connie Francis fixation, burbling on about… well, she had no idea what. She couldn’t be bothered to listen. She missed the sound of Jackson’s voice, but every time he’d been on air recently, until his current absence, she’d had an odd sense that she had heard his voice somewhere else as well.

Maybe
she’d unknowingly sat next to him at the bar last night with Liz, she thought. That had to be it. The really ghastly bloke who’d sleazed after the waitress all night long. Then, she decided, no, it couldn’t have been him. No one who sounded like Jackson Flye, or was as compassionate as he was on air with his emotionally distraught female callers, could be gross. Anyway, this was all theoretical.

Just
then, Bella appeared at the sitting room doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes. ‘Mummy, Daisy’s had a bad dream and she wants you. I’m going to go wee-wee now and then I’m going back to bed.’

Allegra’s
eldest turned around and walked to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. Allegra went into the kids’ bedroom, knelt down next to Daisy and gently stroked her forehead as the little girl whimpered.

‘Please mummy, can you cuddle me for five or 20 minutes, maybe not all night but can you sleep with me please until morning? I had a bad, bad dream,’ Daisy mumbled tearfully, clutching her mother’s hand.

‘Of course, sweetie, I just need to close up the sitting room and brush my teeth, then I’ll come in, I promise, okay?’ Allegra leaned over to kiss Daisy’s forehead, then stood up and went to make sure all the windows in the flat were shut and the doors locked properly. She quickly brushed her teeth, picked up her own pillow and squeezed carefully into Daisy’s bed. The little girl shifted over, making room for her mother. Allegra put one arm over her daughter, the other hand gently stroking her hair until Daisy’s breathing became deep and even, and she was asleep again.

‘Mummy?’ Another little voice in the darkness.

‘Yes baby, what is it, Bella my love?’ Allegra whispered back, as Bella sat up in her bed.

‘I love you. Heaps and heaps and loads and loads. You’re the best mummy in the whole wide world. I know every little kid thinks their mum is the best in the world, but I’m different because I know it’s true when I say it.’

‘I love you too. Forever and ever and always,’ Allegra said, keeping the break out of her voice as tears came to her eyes. ‘Now, sleep, baby. I’ll be right here if you need me.’

Chapter Nineteen

HE OPENED HIS eyes, stretching slowly to ease the stiffness that had crept into his bones during the night. Above him, the sky swooped and spread in the way that only the desert sky did. He could remember the first time he noticed it; he was in Vegas, of all places. City of sleaze and sinners. Yet when he’d raised his face to the sky, that incredible blue clear sky, he imagined he could actually see the curve of the universe. He had never seen anything like it before. The fact that he was in a grimy parking lot at the time was irrelevant. He had felt the warmth of the sun on his face, squinting to keep the glare out of his eyes. And the sky above him soared in a beautiful, clear arc.

Now,
on this cold desert morning, the sky was there, waiting for him. He saw the tinge of daylight begin to spread; the dark of pre-dawn beginning to disperse in pale hues of pinks and golds and reds and oranges. He raised himself up on one elbow and saw her in the distance. She was standing on the top of the ridge, facing the vast emptiness of the desert stretching for miles in front of her, her back to him.

The
sun was rising slowly, and gradually her silhouette became clearer. She made no movement at first, wrapped in the Navajo blanket they had picked up a couple of days ago; but he could sense that she was shivering slightly in the early morning chill. He sat up, thinking he should re-light the campfire, at least get some warmth going, maybe make coffee. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he thought he heard something and paused, concentrating to try to catch the sound again.

Then
he heard it. She was singing softly to herself, unaware he was awake, unaware that the wind was carrying her song back to him. He strained to make out the words, then realised that she was singing with no words. Not humming, but singing a simple, tuneless song of notes and disjointed melodies which made him smile, and somehow pleased him.

He
didn’t know how much time passed, but the sun grew stronger and he began to feel warmer. He had not moved; just sat there, watching her. She’d stopped singing and as the sun’s rays moved across the desert, she lifted up her arms, the blanket still draped around her, as if to welcome and embrace the morning. He stood up and walked across the sand towards her, stopping as she began to move, swaying gently, turning her face from side to side to catch the sun, the wind whipping her hair up and above and over and into her eyes. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was smiling.

He
was about to take a step forward when she suddenly dropped the blanket and raised her arms above her head. He caught his breath sharply. The sun’s rays shone through her cotton dress; he could see every curve and outline of her body as clearly as if she were naked. He hadn’t realised how thin she had become. He didn’t know if he was imagining it, but he thought he could even make out the outline of her ribs. He felt almost embarrassed, as if he was trespassing on a private, sacred moment for her.

He
quietly turned and started to walk away when she glanced around and saw him. ‘Hey, babe,’ she called out to him with a smile, picking up the blanket, unself-conscious about what he may have seen. Just happy to see him. She held out her hand and he walked to her. Their fingers intertwined, and she squeezed his hand.

‘You
okay?’

He
nodded, looking at her, thinking how even as disheveled as she was, she was beautiful. Or maybe that was her soul he was looking at. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, feeling the rough stubble there and thinking how strange it was that such a thing would make her feel safe, that such a thing was what she liked about him, that made him so clearly a man.

He
stroked her hair softly and then clasped her around the waist. They stood there like that for some time, watching the sun rising higher in the sky. Finally, she looked up at him, put her hands on his face and gently kissed him. He looked into her eyes. She smiled. Then he kissed her, a soft kiss, a true kiss, a kiss of two souls who had been lost and had somehow found each other.

‘Coffee?’
he asked, and they both laughed, realising how incongruous it sounded. She nodded and, impulsively, he picked her up, cradling her in his arms like a baby. She weighed almost nothing now. As he turned around to carry her back to their makeshift camp, he lost his footing in the loose sand and they both slid down the ridge, a tangle of laughter and limbs.

Catching
her breath, she pulled the blanket back around her shoulders and kneeled by his side as he lay there, still laughing at the silliness of the moment. She stroked his cheek with the side of her hand.

‘I
love you.’

They
both said it at the same time, and smiled. ‘I said it first,’ he said.

‘Maybe,
but I thought it first,’ she replied, teasing.

‘Ha,’
he said, getting to his feet and pulling her up. Still holding her hand, he led her back to the campfire, now nothing but pale grey ash and blackened embers. He started moving around, getting things organised as she watched him.

They
were two broken souls who had somehow come together. How it had happened, neither of them would ever know. Maybe there was a higher power guiding them, looking after them. They had each separately gone through a lifetime of pain and happiness and sorrow and joy before they met; had friends and lovers and enemies and now … Now there was just them.

She
felt tears begin to sting her eyes, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see, wouldn’t see her cry for all she had lost and all she had found and all that she didn’t know which still lay ahead.

Now,
years later, lying next to Liz, listening to her sleep, Luke thought about Rachel, the girl he had thought he would love until death did them part. And death did part them, in the end. The virus which had ravaged her immune system was merciless. He had met her by chance, around a campfire one night; travelers through the same desert of life.

They’d
been together since that night, but she was already in the grips of the disease, then still nameless, which would take her life just one short year later. Luke, his heart broken, had left the US, travelled the world with nothing but a backpack, running away from his memories.

Fate
had brought him to Hong Kong, where his passion for all things to do with motorcycles had somehow been parlayed into a thriving business importing high-end bikes for the city’s rich and famous. He’d made his fortune there, but the reason he’d decided to stay had more to do with the fact that in Hong Kong, he couldn’t see the sky past all those tall buildings. It helped him sometimes to forget about Vegas, about the desert sky, about Rachel.