Josephine Cox Mother’s Day 3-Book Collection: Live the Dream, Lovers and Liars, The Beachcomber. Josephine Cox
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up. ‘I feel sick!’ she wailed. ‘Stop the car.’
Dougie had an idea. ‘Look, we’re much nearer my place than yours,’ he told her. ‘Why don’t you come back with me … just until you feel better able to travel. A cup of strong coffee should do the trick.’
‘If I do come back with you, I’m not staying long.’ Feeling the way she did, Lilian couldn’t help but accept. It was either that, or throw up all over his nice new car. ‘And you can forget any ideas of any funny business.’ Throwing herself back into the seat she warned, ‘Besides, I don’t even fancy you … never have.’
‘Really?’ He glanced at her with mock horror. ‘And here’s me thinking you fancied me rotten.’
‘Hmh!’ She gave him a playful dig. ‘Then you thought wrong, didn’t you?’ Launching into another fit of laughter, she cried, ‘So, you see, you got me tiddly for nothing.’
Amazed that she seemed completely out of control, he took a sideways glance. ‘I would never have believed you could behave like this.’ Her antics made him smile, though. ‘I always thought you were ice-cool and untouchable.’ In fact it was that which made her attractive.
‘I am! And don’t you forget it.’ She fell back into the seat. ‘Oh, I do feel queasy.’
‘Hold onto it.’ Willing her not to be sick all over his seats. he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. ‘We’re nearly there.’
They soon arrived at his house, a respectable place with three bedrooms. It was more than adequate for his needs, though a little empty for a man alone.
He parked outside the front door. ‘Right then, my girl, let’s get you inside.’
By the time he’d rounded the car with the intention of helping her out, she was fast asleep. ‘Would you believe it?’ He could appreciate the humour of the situation. ‘I’ve never had a girl pass out on me before.’
Leaning heavily on his shoulder, Lilian knew nothing of how she got inside the house.
Negotiating his way into the sitting room, he laid her gently on the settee and covered her with a blanket that he fetched from his own bed. ‘Sleep tight,’ he said, lifting her legs over the edge of the settee. ‘See you tomorrow.’
It was half past three in the morning when Lilian found herself lying on the carpet. In the night she must have turned over and slipped off the settee onto the floor. Now, still half-asleep, in these strange surroundings, it took her a full minute to realise what had happened. She recalled Dougie asking if she wanted to come back to his place for a sobering cup of coffee; after that, she recalled little else.
‘Oh, Lord!’ Dragging herself up by the settee, she stood for a while, holding her temples and gently swaying. Suddenly she was chuckling. ‘He got you drunk!’ Even now, she could still feel the effects of drink, dulling her senses, making her feel somewhat disoriented. She wasn’t used to wine at all.
Worried, she looked around. In the half-light she could see the shape and size of the room in which she stood, but it wouldn’t keep still. ‘Stop moving!’ she hissed. ‘I can’t think straight!’
Suddenly she caught sight of Dougie, sprawled in a nearby armchair, fast asleep. ‘Dougie!’ She called his name, but he didn’t wake.
Crossing the room, she tugged at his arm. ‘I want to go home,’ she whispered. ‘Wake up and take me home, you devil.’ Tripping over the blanket covering his legs, she fell heavily over the arm of the chair. ‘See what you’ve done?’ Throwing out her arms, she caught him hard on the face. ‘I’m absolutely gone and it’s all your fault!’
‘For God’s sake, what the devil …?’ Shocked awake, he sat bolt upright. ‘Lilian! What’s wrong? Are you all right?’
Suddenly she had gone from the arm of the chair and was lying on the carpet, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. ‘I want to go home now.’
Sliding down in the chair, he knelt beside her. ‘Are you sure?’
‘What?’
Reaching down, he ran his hands through her tumbled auburn curls. ‘Do you really want to go home?’
She didn’t answer. Instead she looked at him with tearful eyes, her gaze searching his face. In the dreamy half-light she saw that familiar lean face and the quiet smile, and she imagined it was the man she so desperately missed. ‘Tom …’ Her voice trembled, her arms reached up to him. ‘Hold me.’
Collecting her into his arms, he kissed her, softly at first, then when she made no objection, he went a little further. Soon they were on the floor, discarding their clothes and weaving round each other half-naked; touching, feeling. It was a fast and furious coupling, with no words of affection spoken, or even a warm glance between them.
When it was over, they lay for a moment, spent and exhausted on the floor.
Dougie was the first to speak. ‘I’ll make us a drink,’ he suggested, ‘then I’ll run you home, if that’s what you want.’ Sensing her regret, he clambered up and quickly dressed. Going across the room, he turned on the light. It seemed a hard, cruel invasion into their private moment.
‘Turn it off!’ She looked away. ‘I don’t like it.’ Pulling on her clothes, she seemed highly embarrassed.
Dougie understood. ‘I’ve got whisky, beer or plain water,’ he told her as he went to the drinks cabinet. ‘Or, if you prefer, tea?’
When she didn’t answer he glanced across to see her already dressed and seated in the chair, her hair still partly dishevelled and her face flushed, much like his own. He tried to make light of it all. ‘Well, which is it to be?’
Her voice was small and reluctant. ‘Tea,’ she answered. ‘I don’t want any more to drink.’
Taking in a deep breath, he blew it out in a rush. He hoped she wouldn’t blame him too much for what had happened. ‘Okay. Tea it is, then.’
‘Afterwards … I want you to take me home.’ She lapsed into a sullen mood.
He nodded. ‘Whatever you say.’ He wondered if he had destroyed what slim chance they’d had of getting to know each other better. It would be such a pity, he thought sadly.
When he brought the tea, she cupped the mug in her hands and slowly sipped the hot, soothing liquid. She didn’t speak, and neither did he, though the atmosphere was thick and uncomfortable in that softly lit room.
While she fidgeted in the armchair, he sat opposite, occasionally glancing up to see if she might be more settled. ‘I’m sorry,’ he blurted out, ‘about what happened.’
‘So am I.’ She didn’t even look up.
He nodded. ‘We had a good evening, though … the restaurant, I mean.’ He gave a small nervous laugh. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll want to do it again, though … will you?’
Putting her cup down on the small table beside her, she gave him a shrivelling glance. ‘Never!’ Her voice was flat and hostile, like the look she was giving him now. ‘I’d like to go home now.’
Not wanting to leave it like this, he warned, ‘You’ll only waste your life, hankering after my brother. If he’d been at all interested in you … in that way, don’t you think he would have shown it by now?’
Her features hardened. ‘Not your business!’
‘It’s just that … I don’t want to see you get hurt.’
‘LIAR!’ Leaping out of the chair, she fixed him with an accusing glare. ‘You’re just out for what you can get! I should have seen all along what you were up to.’ When she darted forward he thought for a minute she was about to launch herself at him. ‘You took me out tonight with the intention of getting me drunk and then into bed. You bastard!’ All of a sudden