Chapter 3, Sunday
Thank you to everyone who has read and given me feedback on Chapters 1 & 2. I hope you enjoy Chapter 3. All votes and feedback appreciated!
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I lay awake in the darkened room, the dream going over and over in my head. I could hear Richard's deep and steady breathing and wished I felt as peaceful as him. Closing my eyes, I saw again the mountainous seas, myself and the children on a tiny raft, an evil grinning Jake gradually disappearing into the distance, his laugh echoing all around as we clung to the tiny piece of wood.
I shivered and pulled the thick quilt around my shoulders. I didn't know what the time was, the shutters on the windows made the room dark, but I guessed it was early. Too early to call my parents and ask if the children were safe. Where had the dream come from and more importantly, where was Richard to save us?
Knowing sleep was impossible, I quietly crept out of bed and groped in the dark for my watch. I went into the bathroom and saw that it was just after 6am, perfect for an early walk. Gathering my clothes I dressed and slipped out of the room, leaving a comatose Richard snoring peacefully.
The hotel was almost deserted, just one older man bringing in some baguettes from the town bakery and he nodded a greeting as I passed. Outside it was bright, the sun beginning to grow warm despite the early hour and I felt a sudden sense of freedom, the dream temporarily driven to the back of my mind.
Leaving the town square behind I ventured down a small lane that led to the fields beyond, admiring the old Burgundian houses that lined the way. It was still quiet, just the occasional bark of a dog and far away in the distance the steady hum of a tractor.
As I walked, I thought back to the previous evening when Richard had refused to tell me about the business and felt a return of my anger. I'd felt snubbed by his attitude and wondered whether he would ever have told me, despite the fact that I was still, on paper at least, a Director. When I had left, the business was doing well, sales were up and our customers satisfied with the way we handled their accounts. We placed a great emphasis on being a family firm and what we lacked in size, we more than made up for in service.
Richard had always been competent and was an asset to the company, rarely indulging in high-risk strategies or unwise investments. Under his guidance sales grew steadily and the previous year we even acquired a smaller printing business, much to the pleasure of my parents who had frequently regarded the other firm as competition.
Our house was purchased with the company's success in mind and I knew our mortgage was high. But Richard never worried about the cost of the repayments and our lifestyle improved. We rarely discussed money as I trusted Richard to manage the finances but now I wondered whether I should have taken an interest and perhaps lessened the burden on him.
Leaving the town behind me, I came to a small field of vines and leant on a wooden gate to gaze at the orderly rows stretching away to a line of trees. It was so peaceful and I felt my thoughts settle at last, the worries of the night melting under the rays of the warm sun. If the business was in trouble, could we really afford this holiday? And was that why Richard had been so irritable lately? Knowing that he couldn't take the time to be away, and the added expense just another worry to deal with?
I remembered how he had jumped at the chance of staying with Jake for a few days and felt a cringing embarrassment. I would rather go home than scrounge off a friend and now felt an added dread at the plans to stay in the Dordogne. I imagined Jake and his family, the quintessential Englishman abroad, comfortable in his sprawling farmhouse, showing off his wine-cellar, the fields of vines and the lavish dinners he would put on for our benefit.
Perhaps I could persuade Richard to change his mind and stick with our original plan, a slow trundle around our favourite wine areas, staying at modest hotels and enjoying the freedom, but I knew his fierce pride wouldn't allow that.
Sighing, I took one last look at the view before me and retraced my steps, watching as the small town came to life. I could hear the church bells chime the hour and my need for a cup of strong coffee increased with every step I took.
The square was bathed in sunlight when I arrived back and the café was open for business. A thick-set man in a huge white apron was bustling about inside and I asked for a café au lait, not quite ready for the strong espresso that a couple of men were downing at the bar. My presence was noted with nods of welcome, the men turning their attention back to their conversation after the brief interest. I listened as they spoke, loving the sound of the French language and wishing I could understand what they were discussing with such passion, their hands gesturing like mad as they laughed and chatted.
Life seemed so relaxed here and I wondered whether the inhabitants of this small town felt the same pressures of life as we did. Taking my coffee outside I sat in the sun and closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth on my skin. I took out my mobile and dialled my home number, the dream coming back to me with full force as I waited for the phone to be answered.
The sound of my daughter on the line gave me a feeling of such relief that tears sprang to my eyes as she chatted away, describing the meal they had eaten the night before and what she was going to be wearing on the trip my parents had planned. When she paused for breath I asked to speak to my mother, feeling only slightly guilty that I was effectively going behind Richard's back in discussing the business.
"Mum?" I gripped the phone to my ear as my mother's warm voice came down the line.
"How's everything?"
We chatted for a few minutes and then I took a deep breath and brought up the subject of the business. "Richard has hinted at some problems at work. Is anything wrong?"
There was a pause and I could hear my heart thudding in my chest as I waited for an answer. "What's Richard said?" she asked cautiously. "He promised me he wouldn't say anything to you until after the holiday."
A shiver of fear ran through me as I listened. My mother was never one to over-dramatise a situation and she was always level-headed at work, often cooling the tempers of my husband and father who tended to dominate her at times.
"He hasn't really said a lot yet, but he's obviously worried about something."
"Louise, I really feel that Richard should tell you. Is he there?"
I explained about my morning walk and I heard her sigh. "We'd agreed to talk about this when you both got home. I can't believe he's brought it up already."
Her voice sounded so serious and I felt a flicker of panic begin to grow within me.
"Louise, hold off on this until Richard speaks to you. Promise me that, OK?"
I hesitated. Part of me wanted to have this out with Richard and get it over with but I dreaded what he was going to tell me. "Is it really bad?"
I suddenly felt like a little girl again, running to my mother for reassurance when things got too tough, hoping that she would miraculously make everything better.
"Talk to Richard today, but go easy on him, Louise. Things have been tough lately and the bank hasn't been as understanding as we hoped. Just don't go off the rails and spoil your holiday."
I murmured an agreement and finished the call, the palms of my hands sweaty with nerves. We were so far from home now and I knew Richard wouldn't even think of going back. His pride was too strong for that.
I put the phone back in my bag, drained my coffee and stood up, feeling the tension in my neck and shoulders. The hotel was coming to life and I decided to go and have a shower before breakfast. The early morning was catching up with me and a long hot shower would wake me up and make me feel better.
Richard was still asleep when I unlocked the door and let myself in. I could hear his steady breathing and I tiptoed around the room, bumping into furniture in the unfamiliar layout. Undressing and stepping into the small shower cubicle, I stood under the hot water and tried to relax, my mind running over the conversation I'd had with my mother.
How long had Richard been hiding this from me? I tried to think back to when his behaviour had changed, when he had been staying at work late and coming home irritable and tired. I had even begun to think he was having an affair, but now it all fell into place. This had been going on for months and he couldn't even confide in me, couldn't share his worries with me even though I would have done my best to help.
I thought that was what marriage was all about. Helping each other and supporting each other through the bad times. Was my marriage a sham?
I turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry myself. As I rubbed my hair I opened my eyes to find Richard standing in front of me, a strange look on his face.
"What's up?" I asked as his eyes roamed over my body.
"I didn't realise how beautiful you are, Louise."
I stared back at my husband, suspicion clearly showing on my face. It had been so long since he'd said anything like that and I began to wonder what he was thinking.
I turned away from him and reached for my toothbrush. "You can't distract me, Richard. I want to know what's been going on lately and we need to talk."
I felt his arms go round my waist, his erection hard against my bottom. "Come back to bed, Louise. Just for a while."
I spun round in surprise. "What's this all about? You haven't been like this for ages, Richard. And we come on holiday and it's like you're on heat..."
He moved forward to kiss me and I fell back against the sink. The hard ceramic was cold against my skin and I gasped as his tongue forced my mouth open, his erect cock pressing against my thighs.
I groaned as his hands explored my breasts, his touch rough and needy, his mouth clamped on mine. Part of me wanted to push him away and make him explain what had been happening but his touch was so sure my resistance crumbled. Months of going without sex had given me a ravenous appetite and I wasn't going to push him away now, despite my suspicions that he was using this as a way of avoiding a talk. We kissed deeply and passionately and I allowed him to lead me back into the bedroom where he pushed me gently onto the bed. He opened my legs and positioned himself between my knees, gazing down at me with a look that almost suggested vindication. I closed my eyes as he bent and stroked the softness of my pussy, a small groan escaping me as his fingers probed inside.
Spreading my lips apart he rubbed the tip of his cock against me, his eyes never leaving my face. It had been so long since he'd loved me like this and another worrying thought entered my brain. Was it me he was making love to or someone else? Someone he had left behind in England?
He entered me slowly, drawing out the pleasure and leaving me gasping with the need for him to be inside me. Once inside, he ground into me hard but comfortably, the old bed creaking with each of his thrusts. Outside I could hear the clatter of tables and a man shouting, the town taking on its daytime routine. Richard gasped as he moved inside me, tiny beads of sweat dripping down his face and hitting me on my chest. My breasts bounced in time to his movements and I could feel my orgasm building, the delicious sensations spreading out from my lower stomach and making my limbs weak.
"Oh God, Louise," Richard groaned into my ear and I felt him tense up as he came, his warm semen flooding into me as he thrust hard against me. I reached down and in the throes of his dying orgasm achieved my own, my moans mingling with his as we both achieved a state of bliss.
*
Breakfast was laid out on the terrace of the hotel and I sighed with pleasure as I sipped a cup of strong coffee. The croissants were warm and fresh, the jam homemade and I waited as Richard finished talking on his mobile.
