English Rose ( Part 3)

The larger man left the room and returned a few minutes later with two cups of black coffee.

“Jim, drink this. Then we must get on.”

Jim took a sip of his coffee, wiped his eyes and continued.

“Where was I, oh yeh, the napkin. I’ve still got that napkin after all these years. Keep it in my desk at work. Look at it every day.”

“Jim, focus please, what happened next, after she left you in the pub?”

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I was disappointed that she’d left so suddenly, but I suppose I loved her unpredictability. The next time she called was a week later. Again we arranged to meet in Dirty Dicks, in fact that place became a regular meeting place for us for the rest of that year. We met there once a week. We’d talk, drink wine, have a kiss and then she’d leave. We still hadn’t had sex. I think for both of us we wanted it to be special. We wanted to take our time. We didn’t want it to be some quickie somewhere. Every time we met she always asked me the same question just before we parted.

“Would you do anything for me Jim?”

“You know I would.”

I thought it was just a game that she loved to play. A game that proved to her how much I loved her. Then sometime in 2009, March I think, we met up as usual. She looked worried about something.

“You okay Kathy; you look as though you’ve got something on your mind.”

She smiled, but it was a reluctant smile.

“I’m fine Jim. Can you get away for a weekend?”

“Well it would take some planning but, yes, I’m sure I can.”

Now she was back to her old self. She giggled.

“Well, my family have a small holiday cottage in Whitstable. It’s only an hour away. They don’t use it much and so I thought I’d stay there for a while. Come and stay with me Jim, just for a weekend?”

“When?”

“I’m going to move in at the beginning of May.”

“Okay, I’ll try to sort something out.”

“I do so love you Jim.”

We kissed, finished our drinks and she left.

I began to sow the seeds indoors. I mentioned about a sales conference being planned for some time in May. Then I pretended to be angry that the company was planning it for a weekend. Then I wrote myself a letter on company headed paper and sent it to my home address. It confirmed that my presence was required at the sales Conference in May. I had to be there on the Friday night and would return Sunday afternoon. My poor wife believed every word. As the date approached we both became more and more excited.

Then it was time. I met her at the cottage at seven o’clock on the Friday evening. We took our time. Both of us didn’t want to rush. I did some shopping on the way there and got us food and wine. I cooked. She loved the fact that I was making a fuss of her. The cottage had no television so there were no distractions. Just the two of us.

She stood up suddenly, took my hand and led me to the bedroom.

“Undress me.”

I did. Slowly. As I took off each layer of clothing, I kissed her skin. She tasted wonderful. When she was naked her skin was milk bottle white.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

She smiled at me and lay down on the bed. I undressed and lay beside her. We didn’t have sex. Sex doesn’t describe what we had that night, nor does making love. It was more, much more than that. There was something else, something words can’t describe. Intenseness, almost like our bodies had become one. It was the best night of my life. In fact that first weekend was something that will live with me forever, even when I’m gone.

We stayed in the cottage for the remainder of that weekend. I’ve never felt so close to another human being in all my life. I didn’t want it end. But sadly it had to.

Just as I was getting ready to leave. She asked me a question.

“Will you keep me safe?”

It was a strange question. But I answered it honestly.

“Always.”

She smiled at me with those big blue eyes. Then asked me another question.

“Would you do anything for me Jim?”

I loved her. What could I say?

“Anything.”

“I left on the Sunday afternoon. Not really wanting to. She waived me goodbye. We both had tears in our eyes.

After that weekend I made regular trips to Whitstable. It was only an hour away and I would skive off work and go see her and still be home early evening. I started booking early appointments so that I could be finished by two in the afternoon and be in Whitstable by three. This went on for months. Then one day she told me.

“Jim. You know you always say you would do anything for me?”

I gave my usual reply.

“Anything.”

“Would you take someone’s life for me?”

At first I thought she was joking. But her face told me she wasn’t.

“Who?”

“Me.”