Dear God, I think, as he steps towards me, setting the coffee and pastries down on the hall table. This is whatlongingfeels like. What desire feels like. Real desire and not just the strange attraction I sometimes feel for Ian the paramedic inCasualty.
I want to take this man by the hand and lead him back upstairs, leaving Daniel to his own devices locked in the living room, while I have unabashed, passionate, incredible sex.
Conal is closer to me now. His mouth just inches from mine. I can feel the heat of his body, sure that he must feel the heat of mine coming, which is positively pulsing off me in waves. It’s my turn to reach up and place my hand against his cheek, revelling in the roughness of his unshaven face. Forget Ian the paramedic. Not even David Duchovny could have me feeling as feral as I am right now.
‘Rebecca,’ he half whispers, half moans as his lips close in on mine and… now I finally know what it means to feel utterly undone. My body feels charged with electricity – with the desire to be touched.
My lips tingle as his brush against mine and all I want is to keep kissing this man, long and hard and deep and?—
A volley of barks, loud enough to wake the dead, and most certainly loud enough to pull Conal and me apart from each other, makes me jump, which results in an unfortunate and definitely not sexy head-butting incident.
Daniel whizzes past us, his tail whipping our legs as it wags at hyperspeed. Before we know it, he is at the door, jumping up and scrabbling his claws against the woodwork, his barks segueing into pitiful whining.
‘Becs!’ I hear Laura call. ‘Is Conal there? Only I have Lazlo and I?—’
I open the door, after giving Conal just enough time to grab the coffees and pastries and dash through to the kitchen, where he will have the chance to regain his composure.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she says, as Daniel and Lazlo greet each other as if they have been lifelong besties. Laura pulls me into a hug. ‘It’s just, I have to go to work and I can’t leave Lazlo home alone because he will shite somewhere and Aidan will not be happy. But never mind that, how are you? How is Adam? And Jodie?’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I reply. ‘Adam and Jodie are fine, as far as I know. Jodie just has to make sure to take things easy for a bit. Conal’s here. He’s just getting coffee.’ I wonder if she can tell just by looking at me that she has interrupted something that could’ve been truly earth-shatteringly, body-shockingly amazing.
‘I thought he might have stayed the night, but more about that later…’ she says with a raised eyebrow, and I almost want to tell her to pull that goddamned eyebrow back down because nothing has happened thanks to some spectacularly timed cock-blocking on her part.
Just then Conal reappears, looking distinctly less flustered than when I had last seen him.
‘Sis,’ he says. ‘Thanks so much for minding Lazlo. You’re a star.’
‘Sure, I know. I’m the very best. You’d do well to remember that,’ Laura says with a smile, and leans across to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Hurt her and Iwillbreak you,’ she whispers, not too quietly.
‘I really have no plans to,’ he says as she turns to leave.
Closing the door behind her, I haven’t the chance to gather my thoughts before the two dogs bolt for the pair of us, determined that now is a time to play games of their choosing – and we are absolutely not going back to the one we had come painfully close to playing ourselves.
37
MITTENS ARE A BAD CHOICE FOR ADULTS
You would think writing this article would be easy. I’d had a fabulous time at the weekend. I had spent ages planning exactly what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. But I had not accounted for my attention span being completely banjaxed.
I am still, exceptionally, very tired. But also a little blissed out. But also a bit stressed about the article. But also unable to stop thinking about the jellybean and all the changes it will bring. For the first time in ten years, I don’t know what my future looks like. I am not only out of my comfort zone, I have moved to the neighbouring town and the road back is closed.
It’s exactly what Becki (with an i), aged sixteen, would want. She’d be cheering me on. She might be absolutely stunned that I’d snogged Conal O’Hagan last night, but I think in a good way. She thought forty-six was as old as the hills anyway, so maybe she wouldn’t be too horrified by my impending granny-dom. Overall, I like to think she’d be telling me I was ‘all that, and a bag of chips’ à la Ricki Lake’s chat show in 1995.
I message Niamh to check in on her, and to my surprise she calls me back. She sounds as tired as I feel and I’m delighted that she has, at least, taken the day off work.
‘I might even take the rest of the week,’ she says. ‘The head will go mad, butmy headwill go mad if I don’t take some time to try and sort it out. This past weekend made me realise how much I need to do something… I had a big chat with Paul last night. About everything. And I can’t keep going on just thinking it will all sort itself out.’
‘Sweetheart, I’m here for you. Okay. Whatever you need. I agree, you can’t keep going the way things are. Something has to give. I don’t want it to be you.’
‘Oh, I’m going nowhere,’ she says. ‘I’ve a grandchild to prepare for. We’ve some interesting times ahead, Becs. I don’t intend on being so strung out from work, or menopause or whatever that I miss it. Last night made me realise that.’
I smile. I’m glad to hear that she has some of her fighting spirit back, and that this time she is fighting against her demons as opposed to with her friends, or her husband.
‘How is Paul about it all now?’ I ask.
‘Well, I think last night was a wake-up call for him too. We don’t have the rose-tinted glasses on or anything, but if this baby is determined to hang on in there and get here safely then, let me tell you, I’m going to do whatever it takes to support it, and love it.’
‘Me too,’ I say, knowing full well there will be bridges to cross and obstacles to overcome but deciding that I will cross them as and when I need to and not any sooner. ‘How are Adam and Jodie this morning? Has Jodie had any more bleeding?’
