As Good As Guitars Ch. 09

February 2011

"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again."

"What?" I turn to look at Leigh.

"Eyes on the road." She sticks her tongue out at me, teasing. "Rebecca. I've never been able to come to Cornwall without thinking of it. Have you read it?"

"Actually I have - my sister suggested it the first time she saw the house. She said it put her in mind of sinister housekeepers and drowned wives, and when I asked her what she meant she told me to read it. I thought it was going to be some old-fashioned chick-lit dross, but I finished it in one sitting."

"You know, for a drop-out you're surprisingly educated."

This time I stick my tongue out at her. "Don't make me put you out on the side of the road. You wouldn't enjoy hitch-hiking in this weather."

We're driving down to my holiday home - I can't say that without feeling pretentious, but I don't know what else to call it. Earlier this morning I drove down from London to Taunton to collect Leigh, and now we're on the A30 and bound for the Atlantic coast.

Everyone I know has assumed that this will be the weekend I finally get Leigh into bed, but I'm not so sure.

Not that I don't want to - the only woman I've ever wanted more is Olivia, and that's different. But when I first met Leigh she ended up betting me that I couldn't wait six months to sleep with her. I'd agreed, not really thinking that either of us would bother to see it out to the end. Nearly five months later her clothes have remained resolutely on, and I want her as badly as ever. I think I'm programmed to fall for women who like to deny me.

The signs tell us that we're only three miles out of Launceston, and Leigh shifts in her seat. "Cornwall's one of those places that seems to warp the space-time continuum - it always takes much longer to cross it than you think it should. How long will it take to Newquay?"

"About an hour - but I thought we could stop for lunch first, if you like? There won't be anything to eat at the house."

She agrees easily enough, and it's not long before I turn off the road. "Lunch, m'lady. Continuing the du Maurier theme." Even in early February the pub's car park is half-full.

As she steps out of the car her face lights up. "Jamaica Inn. I've always wanted to see it, but never had the chance. You're very sweet - I can't think why I'm not dating you properly." Before I can react she's reaching into the back seat to grab her jacket, and when she reappears the moment has passed.

It takes us a while to eat, pick up groceries, and make it across to the coast, and when I park for the final time it's getting dark. Leigh climbs out of the car and stretches, looking up at the house. I feel an unaccustomed pang of nerves. I'm not used to caring about what other people think of me.

"Wow, it's gorgeous."

The nerves settle. "It's not a country pile, I'm afraid. But it does have grounds... Would you like a quick tour?"

She takes my offered arm and we walk from the drive to the far side of the front lawn. "That small patch of woodland is mine. It backs onto a large shooting estate, so it gets noisy here in the autumn."

"You don't mind?"

"No, not really. I'm not here much, and even when I am I never see anyone." We carry on across the grass and round to the back of the house, where the ground slopes away below us. Although we're at least half a mile from the sea, it looks as though we could fall in.

Leigh's spellbound. "Gil!" She stares out across the Atlantic, but my eyes are drawn to her. Her enthusiasm makes me want to kiss her, and unthinkingly I take half a step forward. She turns to me. "Some view."

"Yes." We both know I'm not talking about the water.

For a long second I think Leigh will take the last half-step to me, but then she blinks. "We should unload the car before the ice-cream melts." Fuck. She's doing it deliberately. She must be.

The last of the sun has gone and the house is cold, and by the time we've brought everything in Leigh's shivering. I take her through to the living room and grab a rug from the back of a sofa. "Here, curl up under this while I put the heating on. D'you want tea?"

She huddles into the sofa and looks up at me. "That would be lovely, thanks."

I unpack the shopping and put the kettle on while the house warms up around me. I stand there listening to the enveloping silence, idly thinking about dinner. I've had guests here before, but never a girlfriend. I don't know how Leigh sees it, but for me it's a test.

When I take the tea through she's swapped the rug for a second jumper, although she's still curled on the sofa. She's reading an ancient copy of Attitude, and a brief but piercingly clear memory of Simon doing the same thing flashes through my head.

She looks up when I walk in. "Thanks, you're a star. Will you finish the guided tour? I'd love to know if what's inside is as attractive as the outside."

There's that double-speak again. This would be a lot easier if I knew what her intentions were - but maybe less fun. We've been playing this game for months now, and I'm not about to crash out within sight of the finish line.

"Of course. What we have here," I wave an arm, "is the living room. A classic example of late-noughties 20-something single man. Notice the 52-inch flatscreen TV, complete with surround sound. To your left you'll see the PS3 and games, and next to them a DVD collection believed to date back as far as the mid-1990s. The coffee table is Habitat and the sofas are from Heal's, reinforcing our theory that the designer was going for an atmosphere of minimalist yet welcoming."

Leigh's giggling as I speak. "Very impressive. Now, if this were my room..." She looks around. "No, I like it as it is."

Even though we're teasing, I can't help being relieved that she's comfortable. "Did you want to see the rest?"

"Please. On with the tour." She follows me back out to the hall and then downstairs to the basement.

"On our right, the gym." I open the door, showing her. "This is where I like to torture myself when the weather's too grim to go outside." She nods, clearly not particularly interested.

We go back into the passage. "Utility room... and, um, swimming pool." Now I'm showing it off, I'm embarrassed at the extravagance.

Leigh presses her nose up against the glass door like a child outside a toyshop. "Wow again. So that's why you suggested I bring my costume. I was afraid you had plans to take me surfing."

"You like it?"

"I used to swim regularly at school, but I've gotten out of the habit. You don't mind if I do while I'm here?"

"Of course not." Going back upstairs, I take her into the library. To my relief, she doesn't notice my collection of sex books tucked away inconspicuously on one of the shelves - her first visit maybe isn't the best time for those.

When I glance at her she's looking puzzled. "What is it?"

"I was just looking for the Monet tucked away in a corner. Or the first-edition Austen - you know, something to really impress me." Her impish grin is back.

"I keep those in the vault, along with the gold bricks and the deeds to the diamond mine."

"I'm glad to hear it. You wouldn't want any old scrubber turning up and helping herself."

That makes me pause, but I don't want to sour the mood. "There's nothing but guest bedrooms left to show you. How about I dazzle you with my cooking prowess instead? I could do us a stir-fry?"

"Sounds good. Can I help?"

"Sure." We wander back to the kitchen and it's not long before we're chopping veg companionably. I open a bottle of wine and Leigh sets the table.

"No dining room?"

"There didn't seem much point - I either eat in here or in front of the telly, so I turned it into the library instead. I'd rather have books than a Welsh dresser."

She smiles quietly. "Your mother would be proud of you."

Later, when we're eating, I go back to her comment about scrubbers. "Leigh, does it bother you that I'm wealthy?"

She takes her time answering. "No, not exactly. Most of the time I don't think about it - you're just Gil. It's just..." She pauses, thinking. "It only really hit me when I saw this house. You've got woodland, for goodness' sake. And a swimming pool. That's not normal, where I come from."

I'm hurt. "You think I shouldn't flaunt it?"

"Oh no, not that at all. It's your money and you work hard to earn it. If you wanted to paper the walls with it I'd say that was your right."

"So... what is it?"

She looks at me, her head high and a faint blush on her cheeks. "I'm not rich, Gil. I chose an apprenticeship rather than university because of cost. I earn a decent salary and I pay my way, but by your standards I'm dirt poor. I don't want you to think I'm after you for the money. I don't want your friends or family to think it either. I'm not."

"I don't think it. I've never thought it for a second, honestly. I've only had money myself for the past couple of years. I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that when I was showing you around. I was just being a boy - trying to impress you." I take a swallow of wine, embarrassed at myself.

She smiles and her voice is kinder. "You did impress me. You've been impressing me since last September. And I haven't heard a squeak of gossip about you."

My stomach flips at the compliment even as the familiar guilt stabs at me. I've visited Olivia several times since last September - I'm not worthy of the unspoken assumption that I've been celibate. I tell myself - again - that Leigh will never find out and doesn't need to know.

She's still talking, not having noticed that I'd tuned out for a second. "Mind you, there's still time for your fling with Prince Harry to hit the papers."

"Just as long as he doesn't tell them about the threesome with Pippa..." She throws a nearby towel at my head in mock outrage, and my fear recedes.

After dinner we crash out in front of the TV, on the same sofa but not touching. I hand Leigh the remote. "Your pick." To my surprise she stops surfing when she finds an old Stallone movie. "Cliffhanger? You don't have to choose a boy's film just for me."

"I'm not - I love this film. Apart from the opening sequence, anyway." She settles into the cushions, her body turned away and her feet curled up under her. "Besides, action movies are an aphrodisiac. Semi-naked hot men, life and death drama, adrenaline pumping..."

I stare at her, but she's looking at the screen. I'm glad she's two feet away - my cock's hard and my jeans are uncomfortably tight. I shift position but it doesn't help. The more I try not to think about the attractive but unavailable woman sitting next to me, the more I think about her. And I can't move without showing her exactly what effect she's having on me.

Finally the movie comes to an end and Leigh stretches. "I enjoyed that. Although I always think it's a shame when they kill the kid."

I was watching Leigh rather than the film and I don't remember any kid, but I can't exactly admit it. I settle for a non-committal "mm." I'm just thankful that my erection has subsided and I can move.

"How about bed?"

Fuck, spoke too soon. "Um, Leigh..." My face is warm.

She laughs, but not unkindly. "I'm sorry, that was mean. You're very easy to tease..." She looks up at me through her eyelashes. "But perhaps I should be more careful when I'm on your territory. I wouldn't want to push you too far."

I'm pretty sure she wouldn't actually mind that much, at least not at the time. But what she might think the next morning... Well, that's another story. Willing my erection into submission, I stand up. "I can behave. I'll even carry your bags for you."

We climb the stairs and stop on the first landing, where the open passage leads off to the left. I knock on a locked door to our right. "My rooms are in here - your room's on the other side of the house. I hope that's okay?"

"Of course." I wait for her to ask what's behind the second locked door in front of us, but she doesn't.

I lead her to the larger of the two guest rooms, with the view over the front garden and the woods, and check she's got everything she needs. "The hot water's not endless but there should be enough. Make yourself comfortable, and I'll see you in the morning." I can't believe I'm going to walk away.

"Gil..."

I turn back to her at the same time as she steps towards me. For a second we look at each other, and then she tips her head up to me. Her lips brush gently against mine, and then she's kissing me properly and I'm kissing her back. She's kissing me with five months' pent-up teasing and tension, her hands on my back and her body pushed up against mine. My cock's so hard it hurts and my hands are in her hair and she smells so good... and I'm afraid that if I don't step back I'm going to end up taking her here and now whether she wants it or not.

I pull away, shaking and breathless. "Jesus." It's a second before I can say anything else. "Is that how you usually say goodnight?"

She laughs jerkily, releasing the tension. Her face is flushed and her hands are fisted by her sides. "Only to the really good hosts." She sits down on the bed suddenly, as if her knees won't hold her up. "I should let you go."

"If that's what you want?" This has to be her choice.

She nods, although she's clearly undecided. I move towards the door. "I'll see you in the morning then. Come down for breakfast whenever you're ready."

"Okay, thanks." It looks as though she's going to say something else, but she just smiles. "Sleep well."

I can't feel the floor under my feet as I walk back to the landing. It takes me two goes to unlock the door to my rooms, and then I trip over myself as I get undressed. My heart's still racing and there's no way I'll be able to sleep just yet. Hoping that Leigh's not had the same idea, I turn the shower on full blast.

The hot water soothes away the residual ache of six hours' driving, and some of the shakes from Leigh's kiss. Reliving it in my mind, I soap myself up. My skin seems hypersensitive, and when I finally touch my cock I groan. I imagine it's her touching me, stroking between my legs, fondling my balls. Then I wonder if she's pleasuring herself and thinking of me, and I think of her laid back on the bed, her hand between her thighs, her head thrown back as the heat rises. I wonder if she'll draw it out - dipping gentle fingers, maybe even tasting herself. I want to taste her. I want to see her flush and feel her quiver when I touch her, and then hear her cry out as I make her come, over and over again.

When I come, it's so hard that I have to hang onto the taps so as not to fall over.

~

The next morning I'm awake early as usual, although I haven't slept well. It's not yet properly light and the house is quiet, and I decide to burn off some testosterone in the gym downstairs. An hour later I'm feeling much better and starting to think about breakfast. On the way to the stairs I'm surprised to see another light on and realise that Leigh's had the same idea about early morning exercise. I lean against the glass of the pool-room door - wanting to see her but not wanting to intrude.

She splashes the lengths out carefully, swapping between crawl and breaststroke every so often and grabbing the poolside at each change of ends. I wonder how she'd react if I offered to teach her how to tumble turn. As I watch she finishes a length and lifts herself out of the pool, her back to me. She's wearing a navy one-piece and her body is sleek as the water pours off it. I want to stay and see more, but I make myself move before she notices me.

I don't see her again until we're both in the kitchen. I'm at the kettle when she walks in. "Morning. Did you sleep well?"

She doesn't look at me directly. "Yes thanks. It's so quiet here - I was asleep in minutes."

It's alright for some. After my shower I'd lain awake for ages, trying to work out seduction strategies even as I told myself not to. "Tea?"

"Mm, thanks." She doesn't say anything else as she sits down at the table, and I wonder if she's embarrassed. I decide to behave normally and see what happens.

"I thought we could be tourists for the day, if you like? We could go into Newquay, or maybe Padstow - go out for lunch? Or go for a wander along the coast path, if you'd rather? I've probably got spare wellies downstairs." Even though we've been not-exactly-dating for months, my schedule's so busy that we've not spent a lot of real time together. Part of me is desperate to remedy that, and part is scared that it'll turn out we've got nothing to talk about.

Leigh looks up and finally smiles properly at me, and my stomach knots. God, I want this woman in my bed. "I'd like to see Newquay, if that's okay? I've not been to this part of Cornwall before - I know Penzance and Land's End better."

"Done." I pass across her tea and we eat breakfast, and slowly Leigh's nerves or embarrassment or whatever it is wear off. By the time we're ready to leave she's back to her usual self.

We spend the day doing touristy things as promised. Newquay has never been much more to me than a place to pick up groceries, but with Leigh it acquires charm. We wander along the seafront shops, laughing at the tat that's always for sale, even off-season. When we pass an amusement arcade Leigh drags me in and proceeds to fleece me on the penny waterfalls. Later we eat fish and chips sat overlooking the beach and take it in turn to swap holiday stories. She tells me about a school trip to France where everyone got food-poisoning, and I tell her about wet weekends in a Scarborough caravan park.

When she can stop laughing, she holds up her right hand. "I do solemnly swear that I will never inflict a caravan park on my children."

That's something we've never talked about, not even speculatively. As much as I like her, I'm relieved that she's said 'my' and not 'our'. One step at a time. "You'd like children, then?"

She considers. "Yes, I think so. I've not got a burning desire to reproduce right now, but... you know, one day."

I think about a child. Would it inherit my curls, or maybe Leigh's green eyes? Any child of ours wouldn't be tall, but if it took after its mother it would be beautiful. I can't help laughing at myself - so much for one step at a time.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing important. Have you seen enough of Newquay?"

She grins. "As exciting as today has been, I'm done. Have you got anything else planned, or are we heading back to the house?"

"The house, I guess, unless that's too boring?"

"I'm sure we can think of something to make it more interesting." Her cheeks are pink, and I don't think it's just from the sea air.

For a second I wonder if she's toying with me deliberately, and then decide that I don't care if she is. I can't resist teasing. "Ooh, I know. We could read aloud to each other - how interesting would that be?"

"That would depend on which shelf the books came from." She laughs out loud when she sees my expression. "Journalist, remember? An eye for details."

Fuck. Before I can stammer out some sort of explanation, she continues. "Women read porn too, you know - at least, this one does. I'd be interested in any recommendations you might have." She grins slyly. "And I think I'll take you up on the offer of reading aloud."

Only if she wants me to spontaneously combust. Thankfully embarrassment has killed off my hard-on, and I stand up. "There's no way this isn't going to sound wrong, but shall we go home?"

"Let's." She stands and takes my hand - which she's never done before - and we walk in silence back to the car.

The drive only takes twenty minutes, but by the time we get home I'm as tongue-tied as a virginal teenager. I keep telling myself that Leigh flirting with me doesn't mean she wants to sleep with me. If she backs away I will accept her decision graciously, however horny I might be.