Besotted in Belfast

This is my entry into the VALENTINES DAY 2024 competition. I tried to write a short, I really did, but Summer took over and she took it further than I'd planned, I hope you don't mind and enjoy it. It's another long romance, but please, stick with it until the end, before you judge or vote on it. If this doesn't suit you, then please, read any other stories of mine or another contestant's story.

~~~***~~~ Sam pulled his coat around him and rang the doorbell of the large red brick townhouse in a suburb of Belfast. Thankfully, the drizzle had stopped, but not the cold north wind. His anxiety had built up huge butterflies that filled his stomach, along with the questions of doubt in his head.

Despite having met his mother's old friend and family fifteen years ago, would they welcome him with open arms? Even worse, he'd have to explain the reasons for his sudden appearance out of the blue. A shadowy figure crossed the small translucent glass panel in the door, followed by a flash of colour and a blue arm as the click of a lock sounded.

Sam breathed in to give his prepared speech as a young woman with deep red hair, an angelic face, freckled cheeks and black, round thin framed glasses peered around the door. He noticed that she'd been frugal with the makeup she wore, confirming the adage that less is more. As her eyes sized him up, a smile beamed back at him.

She kept her head at an angle, hiding the rest of her body behind the partially open door. Loose dark red bangles of hair flopped down, just short of shoulder length, adding to her attractiveness. After his last few crappy days, the prospect of sharing some time with an attractive woman elated Sam.

"Yes?"

"Yeah, Hi... Er, are Carol and Finn McLaughlin home?"

"Ah no, they've gone out."

The woman's appeal improved as he heard her smooth Belfast accent, which isn't as strong as the ones in Southern Ireland, but still with that Celtic lilt everyone loves.

"What about Peter or John?"

She paused, not looking confident, before shaking her head. "And you are?" The woman remained hidden behind the door.

"Sam... Mum said she'd rung them to warn them I'd be coming."

She studied his face, which unnerved him, worrying if his three-day growth made him look a bit too rough and ready for a lone female to let him in. Her brow furrowed, and she avoided looking at him directly, thinking long and hard about something, as if she were unsure about divulging a state secret.

"Ah, yes, Sam... Carol warned me before they left for a week's holiday. Has anyone explained about Peter?"

"Is he okay? I've not seen him in fifteen years or more."

"Oh, for sure, Peter's fine... he's gone on some field trip as part of his course for a few days and John is away as well." She paused, looking a little guilty. "I'm house sitting for them." The woman smiled and fully opened the door, stepping back to welcome him in. She held her hand out for him to shake, surprising Sam at her being shorter than he expected. "I'm Summer. Peter asked me to stand in for him. Sorry I kept you hanging."

His initial thought was she must be Pete's girlfriend, but changed his opinion upon seeing her standing in the open doorway.

"Oh!" Sam exhaled a surprised gasp. "Er, Hi."

Rather than wearing something close fitting or a short skirt, which he'd hoped for, she wore baggy, orange dungarees covering a blue, long-sleeved shirt with a rainbow emblazoned across her small chest. She stood in a pair of fluffy pink slippers, wearing rainbow socks. Her soft hand was warmer than his as they shook, and he saw a friendly spark in her blue eyes.

"Why the surprise?"

"Ah, no, nothing at all." Sam flustered, mentally kicking himself for allowing his tiredness to get the better of him, and wondered how he could rescue himself from his blatant faux pas.

"If not, what was that 'Oh' about?" She had a glint in her eye that warned him she knew exactly what he meant, but wanted him to tell her.

"Ah, sorry, I expected Peter."

Summer's face flashed with a smile before she glared at him, not taken in by his lame excuse

Sam saw his opportunity for an enjoyable conversation with her draining away. "I'm sorry. I don't want to upset you. Now you've been kind enough to welcome me in."

She stood in the hallway, blocking him, taking a defensive stance, clearly ready for a confrontation he really didn't want.

"What will upset me?"

"Ah, you know?" He flustered as his mind raced with how he could backtrack and rescue the situation.

Summer's lips squeezed together, and her eyes narrowed. "No. What should I know?"

Sam knew he was in a dead end and maybe had to surrender. "I'm sorry, I've had a few utterly shite days, leaving me grubby, tired and not at my best." He tried to give her a sorrowful pair of puppy dog eyes.

Summer didn't buy it, nor did she relax her judgmental glare.

He realised he'd better back pedal and try to dig himself out of his self made quagmire quickly. "It's just, you know? You're here, looking after Peter's parent's house, so I naturally assumed, being an attractive woman, you were his girlfriend."

Summer's lips pressed together as she scowled at him, with her face reddening, and her look dared him to continue.

Sam scolded himself as he found her even cuter when angry. "It is a sweeping judgement... But you know?" He nodded at her, hoping that would be enough of an explanation.

The corner of her lip quivered. "You saw the dungarees, the rainbows, and thought I'm a... You know?" She tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows, daring him to admit his assumption.

Guilt wracked through Sam as he now wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole, before he made a sensitive situation any worse.

Summer noticed his discomfort and her anger seemed to abate, but she would not let him off the hook easily. "You also find me attractive, but not good enough to be Pete's girlfriend?"

He gave up and admitted defeat. "No, no... Not like that. Holy shit, I've dug myself into a hole."

"Hole, hole? It's so big I could park a bus in it." She mocked.

"Ah, umm, sorry... Yeah."

Summer smiled as she gave a burst of a giggle. "For feck's sake. Come inside, idjut."

Sam shook her hand as he stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him to follow her, who chuckled, shaking her head.

At the end of the hall, she turned, catching him looking below her waist. "Are you checking out my arse?" She taunted, as she wiggled it and gave a raucous, cheeky laugh at his further discomfort.

Sam blushed and stammered, trying to deny the obvious, as she did have a gorgeous petite bum, even in the baggy seat of her dungarees. He followed her into the kitchen, hoping his blushing would calm down. Summer continued to give little light giggles as she turned to him and leaned back on the counter.

"I'd hate to be there when you really put your foot in it. But it's nice to know I'm attractive and you like my bum."

"Honest, I don't mean to keep offending you."

"You idjut, you're not. I'm just enjoying making you feel uncomfortable. This is Belfast, and I can assure you I've had far worse as it comes with the territory. Would you like a drink?"

"Tea please, normal milk, not powdered or from those little plastic cartons. I've not had a decent cuppa for days."

"You're a proper waif and stray, aren't you?" She turned to put the kettle on, wiggling her bum again, as she caught him red-handed once more. "Just checking." She giggled.

Sam relaxed and leaned against the adjacent sink with his back to the kitchen window, giving him a clear view of Summer almost in front of him. He rummaged in his pocket for his only handkerchief to wipe his nose. "So, what did Peter say?"

"He said you'd stay for a day or three. He explained about your mothers being friends and having seen you years ago when you were kids on various holidays."

"I only remember bits and bobs of holidays over here, as families. I've met his mum and dad since, when they came over to Bristol to stay with relatives and called in to visit mum."

Summer turned to lean against the counter as the kettle warmed up and looked to her left at Sam. "But why come here instead of just returning to England?"

"After having my phone and cards stolen in Dublin, the bank and insurers would only send replacements to a UK address, which this still counts as. So rather than go home I came up here, so once sorted I can see more of Ireland. It should only take three days before replacements arrive."

Summer bit her lip and her eyes fluttered, as if deep in thought once more.

Sam wasn't sure if he'd convinced her, so continued. "It was the best idea I could come up with at the time. The Garda only allowed me a few phone calls. Dad wired me some money, which I can easily stretch to last two or three weeks, so I won't be a burden."

"I still can't understand why you would want to visit Dublin in this season of wind and drizzle?" Summer folded her arms, looking at him in a way that told him he'd better give a more convincing story than just going for some winter season fun.

"Ah... Well, that is the six million dollar question."

Her eyebrows rose as she waited for more.

Sam shrugged, knowing he'd best come clean. "Last week, the university admissions office called me in and warned me that my recent work wasn't up to the level that they'd expect by this time, but I'd be receiving a letter asking me to withdraw from the course, which was a polite way of kicking me off..."

He looked down, wishing he had that mug of tea to hide behind, but had to reach for his handkerchief instead as a sneeze built up. After a quick fit of sneezing, he blew his nose and saw Summer looking more sympathetic.

She'd uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on the counter, either side of her. This made her look even more attractive as her dungarees accentuated her small breasts protruding out, whilst being squeezed between the shoulder straps. Bangles of hair framed her face, and her glasses gave her a cuteness he enjoyed.

"Everyone else was full of their previous year's results and getting on with the new term's work. I'd barely scraped through, but after a month, I was failing again. I couldn't return home to tell mum and dad, so I legged it..." He blushed at admitting his cowardice, glancing away.

"You ran?" She shrugged, not impressed. "But lots of people drop out of university, no big deal. You sure you weren't jilted by another woman..."

"No!"

"Or man?"

"Hey, no... Why would you say that?"

"Well, with it being Valentine's Day tomorrow, jumping on a plane after dropping out is a bit over the top, especially to one of the wettest countries in the world."

"Ah, I'd quite forgotten about the date. Although after my last dry spell at romance, I've nothing to celebrate."

"I hear you there..." She looked across the kitchen a little melancholic at the wall, before returning her attention to him. "So, neither man, woman nor beast dumped you and yet you chose to be the king of dropouts by flying off into the sunset." She shrugged. "Meh, I don't buy it."

Sam gained a new admiration for her as she searched into his soul. He guessed she had no intention of giving up, so he swallowed his pride and explained. "It would be easy if that were it, but over Christmas I learned dad had passed up a big promotion at work to relocate up north, but chose to keep the family in Bristol."

He saw her sympathetic face change to questioning.

"How's that your fault?"

"All of dad's family are up there, and most of mum's. It would have been a golden ticket to return as his company would pay for the relocation, whilst giving him a pay rise, promotion and they offered mum a better paid job. But they stayed to save me from getting deeper into debt by paying for accommodation and food."

Summer didn't look convinced. "If debt worries you, you could get a job, like most students."

"I struggle as it is, with having enough time for assignments, revision and classes. What takes others an hour, I need four to five. Last year I had to do extra evening classes to catch up, and it nearly broke me. As a result, I hardly ever went out, leading half my classmates to think I'm a recluse, living in a cave, and all the others that I'm a compulsive gamer."

Finally Summer looked sympathetic. "Has anyone tested you for dyslexia or dyscalculia?"

"Don't be daft, I'm not thick. I got the right grades to get to university."

Summer's face reddened, and she leaped across the kitchen, faster than he could react. At first he thought she was about to give him a full knockout blow, but she faltered at the last second to thump him on his shoulder. She tried to make it look more playful and looked apologetically at him as she returned to her position at the counter.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Sam winced as he rubbed his shoulder.

"Having learning difficulties doesn't mean you're thick. Einstein was dyslexic, as are Tom Cruise, and Steven Spielberg, along with lots of other famous people. Ignoring the grades, how did you get on with your 'A' levels before university?"

"Much the same. They would set half an hour's homework, and it would take me all evening."

"Didn't that warn you that something could be an issue?"

"Well, no... But I had to go..."

"Why? Nobody has to do anything, and if you were struggling in sixth form, then university wouldn't be any easier."

"That's easy to say but mum and dad met at uni, as well as my uncles and aunties... All my cousins have gone and I'm expected to follow in all their footsteps... To become a high achiever like the rest of them."

For a moment, it looked as if Summer was going to leap across at him to hug him, but she tried to make it look as if she were getting comfortable, before settling back onto the counter. "There's no reason you still can't. What course were you doing?"

"I was in my penultimate year of mechanical engineering. It was the only thing I thought I was good at and interested in. I always helped dad with his cars and fixing mine and my mate's bicycles. He used to tell me about the projects he worked on and it always captured my imagination, wishing that one day I could work on something as creative."

Summer stepped over to him and before he knew it, she'd grasped his hands, turning them over to look at his fingernails. He hated to admit it, but her soft touch excited him and he tried to calm his rising blood pressure. Now they were close. He thought he caught the faintest whiff of perfume.

With his allergies, perfume often stuck in his throat, irritating it, but this was a pleasant hint of spring flowers. He wanted to bury his nose in her hair, and inhale deeply, to clean the smell of the hospital and the police station from his nostrils.

Summer glanced up from his hands, surprised to find that they were now a lot closer than she was comfortable with. "Nope, you're no engineer, no oil or grease under those nails." She chuckled, releasing him, and her freckled cheeks hinted at reddening up as she stepped away to lean back on the countertop.

"Thanks a bunch, but you're thinking more mechanic than engineer. I'm learning the design, technical side. More computer aided design, materials, calculations and simulations, rather than manufacturing, fabrication, oil and grease."

She nodded sympathetically, but he wasn't sure whether she understood the difference, as she didn't look as impressed as he'd hoped she would.

"So you gave up on being an engineer to run away and leave your parents to find out when they read the letter, but got your phone call from the Garda instead?"

He looked down at his feet, unable to look her in the eye after her simplifying his actions. But at least her tone didn't sound judgmental. "Uh-huh."

Summer gave a throaty giggle, but then coughed after a long pause. "But you've still not explained why you came to a wet and wintery Dublin, when you had the entire world to choose from?"

His shoulders slumped, looking at the table and playing with the damp handkerchief in his hands. "I panicked, needing to get away, to think and, hopefully, somehow find myself. I'm useless at languages, so being lost in Europe was off the agenda and with my budget I couldn't reach Greece... I sat in Bristol airport and took the next flight to an affordable English speaking destination... It just happened to be Dublin."

"Bad move... You got mugged, then ended up here looking for a bolt hole to lick your wounds whilst avoiding returning home?"

"You catch on quick... Yeah. Mum's really pissed with me and Dad's livid."

"No shit Sherlock, I would be too."

Sam sneezed and blew his nose for the umpteenth time. "Thanks for your sympathy." He said, dripping with sarcasm.

Summer straightened up as if to move towards him, but stayed close to the counter. "I know it doesn't sound like it, but I am... I sort of understand how you feel and possibly would have done the same myself." She looked away, half turning to reach for the kettle, which had clicked off. "So, how did you get yourself mugged?" She kept her back to him as she made the tea, making it easier for Sam to tell his story.

"I didn't go looking for it... I thought I was quite street wise, but I suppose it happens when you least expect it. After a few awkward days of hanging in Dublin, of seeing the sights, it was time to move on and travel around, so I headed for the train station. I found some other students, and we hung out whilst waiting for a train west."

As he wiped his nose once more, his heart fluttered as Summer looked over her shoulder and her blue eyes sought his, confirming she was listening.

"The train was cancelled, and we shared a few drinks and got some crummy sandwiches. One of them must have slipped me a Mickey Finn, and I felt dizzy. The world went out of focus and I can't remember much before I blacked out. I woke up in an ambulance, with them claiming I'd taken drugs and the Garda were interested in me."

"Sugar?"

"Please, a heaped spoonful." Sam felt relaxed telling her his tales of woe, as based on her rainbow T-shirt and socks, she was technically off the table and he didn't have to impress her or be on his best behaviour, despite her being cute. He was relieved to be getting all this off his chest at long last and at least with someone who understood.

Sam continued watching her, imagining what she'd look like in less baggy, utilitarian clothes. "At the hospital, they did tests, and the Garda interviewed me. They kept under lock and key after a body search. It was only after the blood tests confirmed it had been a date rape drug they changed their attitude."

"And you'd been?"

"No, no, not that... My rucksack, phone, money, everything except my passport was gone. The police checked the station's CCTV and the group I was with were locals and have a reputation for the same, as I was on my own."

"So they arrested them?"

"No, as the CCTV didn't show them administering a drug and they claimed they'd helped me board a train. They'd walked me out of CCTV range before they robbed me, so no evidence. The Garda weren't really interested to be honest, as they categorised it as low-level crime, as despite the drugging, they weren't violent, and I had insurance."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay and here now. How come they didn't take your passport?"

Sam chuckled. "The Garda had a great time telling me my passport was useless after Brexit. They'd left it with my driving licence. Credit cards they can drain before throwing or selling them on, but they don't want to be caught with anything with a photographic ID. They were just low life's after a fast buck."

Summer passed him a mug of tea and then returned to lean against her original counter, but closer to Sam this time. "What do you think of Peter's mum and dad?"