I've always been irresistibly attracted to the kind of girl who can fuck up your whole life.
I know that sounds bad in the context of what eventually happened between me and Kayla, and of course, my wife Jill. But it wasn't premeditated - it really wasn't. It's just that I made mistakes, because of my weakness. Then, I lied to cover up the mistakes. And then I had to tell other lies to keep the initial lies from being discovered... The whole situation just got totally out of my control. I never meant to hurt Jill. That was really never my intention. But Kayla really was a natural life-ruiner - what else could I do?
My other major partiality is for women with darker skin tones. How unfortunate for me that this made the contrast between Jill and Kayla even sharper! Jill - beautiful, fair-skinned, blonde - but maybe a little bland, too. I feel terrible admitting it, but though I admired her pretty looks, there was always something curiously non-sexual about her to my eye. She was so sweet, so nice, and we looked great together on photos, so why didn't I find her sexy? It wasn't fair on her, but it was the truth.
Compare this to Kayla. Mixed race - English mother, Jamaican father - with a delightful caramel skin tone. She was perhaps even a little less classically pretty than Jill had been when I married her, but her petite body, thick black hair, and above all her vivacious and boisterous personality gave her an undeniable sex appeal which my rather reserved wife lacked. Her energy was sometimes coquettish, sometimes excitable, sometimes imperious - but always contagious.
And of course, worst of all (and I still cringe to mention it), Kayla was half my age. Jill and I were heading into our late thirties, still childless but nevertheless approaching a kind of comfortable equilibrium in our lives. Preparing for middle age, leaving excitement behind. Well, Jill was at least; I found myself a little dissatisfied with how domesticated we had become, even if I acknowledged objectively that we had built a nice and tranquil life together.
Kayla was eighteen and still in school. I shouldn't have even been looking at her, let alone thinking the things I was thinking. Well, that was what led to this whole mess, anyway; not being able to keep my eyes off her.
It was a sweltering week in that summer. In Britain, those are fairly rare. You might only get one or two weeks of really good weather in the whole year. So everyone was taking advantage; the air hummed with the sound of lawnmowers and hedge-trimmers, children screaming, footballs thudding off the brick walls of our estate. It was already August and in the damp heat, the wasps were beginning to get unruly as their colonies, their huge extended families, began to disintegrate with the departure of the young queens. As I mowed the lawn, I was keeping one eye out for any nests in the grass, and the other sneaking quick glances at the teenage girl sunbathing just over the fence into the garden behind.
We lived on what might be called an "up-and-coming" housing estate. At some point, it had all been council housing, state-owned and let out for cheap, but these days most of the properties were owner-occupied. Even so, there were still council houses dotted about, and the neighbourhood retained a little of its rough edge. Certainly, it wasn't usually my habit to be staring at anyone without cause in these parts; you never knew what kind of trouble it might bring.
We had only moved in last year. Somewhere a little bigger, just in case we did change our minds and decide to have children. I was pretty sure Kayla's house was still owned by the council. Certainly, her mother, Sarah, didn't seem to work, and her father was nowhere to be seen. I don't see how they could have afforded it without a subsidy.
Mowing the lawn was sweaty work in that stifling weather. I kept pausing to wipe my sleeve across my forehead, and as I did, I would cast a quick glance over the low fence, to the raised patio in the garden opposite. The houses were on a gentle hill which sloped from Kayla's garden to mine, so she was clearly visible above me, as if on a balcony.
She was lying on her back on a deckchair, her face obscured by enormous sunglasses and her hair tied up into a ponytail. Her skin glistened in the sunlight. She wore only a pair of loose fitting shorts and a white tank top, which looked eye-searingly bright against her tanned skin. Her left foot was bare, and her right dangled a worn flip-flop. Her brown toes sported white-painted nails. She had one earphone in, the other dangling over her chest, her music playing loudly; some garbage I didn't recognise, with a danceable beat. She tapped her feet to the rhythm of the song, and bobbed her head from time to time. I noticed how long and shapely her legs looked, especially the one that was arched in mid-air, swaying to the tune.
My eyes wandered up her slender, smooth leg to the centre of her loose shorts, tantalisingly shaded by her calf. I wondered if she was wearing underwear.
I stood captivated, my mower rumbling in place. Then Kayla moved; she slowly and deliberately pushed her sunglasses up from her face. Her eyes were fixed on me, and presumably had been so for some time. I immediately blushed and shut off the mower, pretending to clear something out of the blades. I hoped that the heat of the day would mask the flush rising up my cheeks.
I took another quick look at Kayla. She stared back, taking her earphones out. With the lawnmower at rest, I could hear her mother shouting something down the phone through the patio doors of their house.
Kayla looked at me, squinting her eyes. "You were watching me!" she said.
Those words turned the heat of the day to ice against my skin and my stomach lurched. I tried not to look twitchy.
"Hm?" I answered, as if surprised by her address. "Watching you? Don't be silly, I'm just out mowing my grass."
She stood up and walked a little closer to the fence, her face hinting at a mocking smirk.
"You were looking at my legs, I saw you. You're a perv."
I flushed again, but this time with anger. "I'm not a perv. And I wasn't looking at your legs. Don't you think you're a little young for me?"
I wasn't sure why I had said that. I sensed immediately it was a mistake. Her smirk flowered into a malicious grin.
"That's right, I am way, way too young for you. That makes it worse. Are you a nonce or something?"
At this point, Sarah finished with her call and walked outside.
"What's going on here?" she asked. "Paul, what's wrong? You look ill."
"I was listening to my music, and then Paul here started watching me. Then he switched off his mower and stared at me, mum. I think he wants to shag me."
"He's, what, twenty years older than you? I doubt that." her mum said.
"It's true." said Kayla, "And then I stood up and asked him what he was doing, and he just turned bright red, look at him." Kayla's mum looked at me. "And now he's going to go home and wank off thinking about it."
I would have been uncomfortable even if I weren't the subject of the discussion. Kayla spoke very boldly in front of her mother! I had always thought the family were a little chavvy, but I was still shocked at her foul mouth, and Sarah's lack of any reaction.
"Look," I said, "nothing of the sort happened. I was mowing the lawn, I got hot, I stopped to wipe my brow and happened to look in this direction, and that is when you accused me of staring."
Kayla's mum burst out laughing. "You do look like a bit of a perv, Paul. You're a boffin aren't you? It's always the quiet ones, innit?" she said. Then she turned to Kayla, "I doubt that's the first time you have been checked out by the neighbours, you little tart." she added, with the kind of pride a father might take in a footballing son.
I resisted the urge to protest my innocence yet again. I simply added: "Anyway, I have a wife."
"Yeah, that's what's weird. Your wife is so pretty too." said Kayla. She put her hand on her chin and turned to her mother again. "Maybe it's my skin colour. He's always checking us out, me and Shan, way more than the other girls. He wants some spice in his life."
I tried to suppress a guilty start. How on earth had she noticed that? Was I really that obvious?
"That's enough." said Sarah, irritated now. "Just because a bloke looks at you doesn't mean you have to turn on the fucking waterworks and play the race card. Fuck's sake."
That shut her up. I was grateful for the save.
"Just leave him be. You've embarrassed the poor bloke." Then she turned to me, and looked me right in the eyes. "Just so we're clear," she added, "I know you weren't staring at her. If I thought you were, I'd have your fucking head kicked in. She's my fucking daughter."
Jesus, they were so rough. For the first time I began to regret buying a house in this area.
"Of course." I repeated. "I have a wife."
Kayla looked at me. There was something in her eyes that terrified me, and excited me at the same time. Was it contempt?
