Tarton Ch 02

Cynthia's Story

Saturday and I am out in the back garden weeding the flower bed. I look up over the back fence to the Murray house, where Toby, and his mum and dad live. Our two gardens back on to each other. It stands on a hill much higher than our house, and is about 100 yards away. Their house stands alone and is double in size to ours.

My husband works for Nathan Murray, who is in the Conservative party, and MP for the town of Tarton. It's like even now on a Saturday, we are somehow under the gaze of my husband's boss. I look back at the garden I've weeded, and I feel happy. My husband cut the grass yesterday, but the flower beds are my responsibility. Right now Robert is thrashing a little white ball round a golf course somewhere, each to their own I guess.

"BOO!"

"Jesus!" I shriek, twisting round and falling into the flower bed.

A happy smile quickly turns into concern.

"Simon, you shouldn't, creep up on people like that."

He reaches down and I take his hand and he pulls me up.

"Sorry Mrs Harrison, you were just knelt there staring into space."

"Anyway," I say after clearing my throat, and rubbing my hand across my face, "what are you doing here?"

He smiles and moves forward, his hand reaches out and I back away.

"You've got dirt on your cheek."

He wipes it off my face.

"I bought you something, and I've come to say sorry for what I said the other day."

"You shouldn't buy me," I stop as he holds up a gold chain.

"Simon I can't, I mean you can't give me that."

"Oh don't worry it's only a cheap one from Argos. Please have it, I feel guilty about...well."

"It's lovely, but what would my husband say?"

"Don't panic, you don't have to tell him I bought it."

"He probably wouldn't notice it anyway," I mumble.

"Well, have it then," he says with a smile.

I look away slightly, not realising I said out loud that Robert wouldn't notice.

He walks behind me and lowers the chain over my head. I feel the delicate metal on my neck. Simon's fingers are under my hair touching my neck, as he tries to do the clip up.

"Here let me lift my hair."

His hand flattens on my neck, and for a few seconds I don't move. His hand pulls away, and I can feel a surge of red filling me cheeks.

"Would you, um, like a drink?"

I'm kicking myself; I only said that to stop the awkward silence.

"Sure," he replies, like everything is normal.

I lead him on to the house with my head looking down at the ground, hoping my red cheeks will disappear as quickly as they arrived. I go to the fridge and have to grab at the handle twice. I look round hoping he hasn't noticed my fumbling, but he isn't there. I whimper, touching the chain just to confirm I haven't dreamt the whole thing. He is sat out on the patio. Get a grip for god's sake Cynthia, I tell myself. I take a glass of coke outside to him, checking my blushing has gone in the kitchen mirror on the way. I sit down and watch him looking up at the Murray House.

"It's like that thing you made us read last year, big brother looking down on the rest of the town."

"I was thinking that just before you turned up. Simon you mustn't let Toby get to you."

"I know. I just hate the prick. After what he did to you, pushing your head, sorry I can see I'm embarrassing you."

"Why, um, did you, you know...."

"Get an erection?"

"Who got an erection?"

I jump up out of the patio chair, as my husband stands in the kitchen doorway looking out.

"W, would you like a cold drink?" I ask my husband trying to change the subject.

Yeah sure thing," he says and slaps my ass as I go past, "you leave us men to talk sex C. You are a man now aren't you Simon?"

I'm cringing as my husband pushes Simon on his erection. Simon tells him a girl knelt down in front of him.

"HA, dirty cow did it on purpose I guess, and I bet you thought your luck was in. Did she notice it? Don't worry boy they always do, just some prick tease. I bet if it was hanging out she'd jump a mile. Cynthia is like that she won't do oral."

I nearly drop the glass I'm carrying.

"Robert it isn't appropriate talking about........well sex with one of my students."

"Rubbish, you've had sex education classes at school by now haven't you Si? I bet they don't go into oral sex."

"Robert please, you shouldn't be talking about things like that."

"Christ, relax C, the boy needs to know for his own good, and I bet he has seen tons of porn."

"Than, thanks for the coke, I'd better be off," Simon mumbles as he gets up out of the chair.

"Okay son, anytime you want a man to man chat you come round here. I'll tell you the things those stuck up teachers are afraid to tell you."

"Did you have to?"

My husband chuckles, and then opens his arms like he is all innocent.

"Oh come on, what's he going to do when a girl offers him a blow job?"

"Girls don't do that, not respectable girls," I say in a weak but angry voice.

"You mean you won't do it, and as for anal sex."

"I'm not doing that.....ever!"

"Okay I'm just saying. Anyway why was he talking to you about an erection?"

I swallow hard hurting my throat. I'm running over his question trying to find an answer.

"Like Simon said, he, he didn't know what to do."

"What a boy of that age.....I bet he does some DIY at home."

"Robert for god's sake, that's a horrible thing to say!"

"Okay C, I'm only teasing you.....hey, is that a new that necklace?"

I touch it automatically, "N, no, my other one broke, and I haven't worn this one for years."

"I like it you should wear it more often. Now how long is tea going to be, I'm starving?"

The last week before the summer holiday passes slowly. Toby has calmed down, and has told everyone he'll be going to Spain on his parent's yacht this summer.

The last day of term I go to the headmaster's office to collect the student's report cards.

"Oh Cynthia, just so you know I've adjusted young Toby's marks."

"Why?"

"Well I thought you had been unfair."

"I wasn't unfair, I....."

"Cynthia, I'm not debating it now, hand out the reports."

Toby grins at me as he reads his report. He walks over to me as the rest of the class leave the room.

"Thank you Mrs Harrison, you never know, your old man might get a promotion."

"If you must know the headmaster changed the grades. The build up to your final exams starts after the summer break, so you had better take them more seriously."

He looks at my shaking hands and I slide them under my desk. He smiles, and turns round.

"Oh, it looks like Simple Simon wants to say goodbye to you. I bet he's going to miss you.......or is he?"

I watch the chuckling Toby disappear out of the room, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"I hate him."

"Simon, forget about him, you have 8 weeks to yourself, enjoy the summer."

We walk out of the school together and stop at my car.

"I um, I'm not going your way, otherwise I'd offer you a lift."

"You don't have to make excuses. I'll see you around town maybe."

He turns and starts to walk away as I stand there dithering. I take a deep breath knowing what I want to do, and I'll never have the chance, or the nerve, to do it again. I rush up to him, and surprised by my own strength, I grab his arm and spin him round. My lips are on his, and the sheer delight I feel overwhelms me. He pulls me round a corner against a wall. His tongue dives in my mouth. I groan, enjoying the feel of his lips, and the hand that eagerly squeezes my right breast.

Finally I come to my senses and push off him. We are both panting and he watches me, shocked by what has just happened. I feel tears and I turn away and hurry back to my car. Even as I drive away I'm regretting forcing myself on him, but I can't deny the fire it has stirred up deep within me.

For days afterwards I'm feeling guilty. My husband knows something is wrong and he's asked me, and without me saying anything he puts it down to a period. While I've tolerated my husband's short comings in the past, it has turned to resentment recently. I've spent a few times over the last few days checking out my body in the mirror. While everything is still as good as I remember it from a few years ago, I'm still wondering why Simon is attracted to me. He hasn't really seen my shape or curves under the baggy clothes and long skirts I wear to school. Would my body be a disappointment to him? While I think it is good, what would it look like through his 18 year old eyes?

I've gone into town just to get out of the house. I find myself in one of the big trendy clothes shops. I watch teenage girls picking things from a rack, which would barely cover what the items are intended to do. They laugh and joke and take things to the counter. Not one of them has objected to the items of scant material their friends are buying.

"Hiya."

I jump and turn round, and there she is, Sylvia. She smiles at me and I half smile back.

"Looking for anything special Cindy?"

She flicks through the rack I'm stood next to.

"Um, it's Cynthia actually."

"Sorry, but I do know you're Rob's wife, right?" she says with a smile which seems to light everything up.

"No, I, I, I mean yes, Robert is my husband."

She pulls something from the rack and holds it against herself.

"What do you think?"

"It's......um well, not something I'd wear," I say flustered hoping she isn't offended.

She holds it against me, and I stand there like some sort of frightened rabbit. I watch her head tip to one side, and her tongue pushes her cheek out as she considers the dress.

"The colour looks good for you."

"I don't know, anyway it's a little too short for me."

"Not really, probably mid thigh. I know why you're here," she says as she puts the dress back.

Why would she know why I'm here? I haven't even answered that question myself.

"Rob talks to me you know, he said he wished you'd spice up your wardrobe, well done for taking the first step."

"He, talks to you?" I ask like it is something I never thought he'd do, although I don't know why.

"Hell I work behind a bar, men talk, and some say more than they probably should. Don't worry; he hasn't said anything much, only that he wished you'd get something sexy to wear now and then."

I want to say so much but she drags me to another rail. She moves things aside at what seems the speed of light. I watch her eyes flick up and down, making decisions about the items like some sort of human dress computer. Her nose turns up at things she doesn't like, and then finally, a big smile.

"Great go try this on, and what size shoes do you take?"

"Size six, why?"

"I'll shove some shoes into the changing booth."

"I, I'm a teacher, I can't wear this sort of thing," I protest lightly as I look at the dress in more detail.

"You're not a teacher now are you? My god those shoes really are awful."

"What's wrong with them?" I ask and look down from my flats to her high heels.

She laughs, "Don't be offended, but I wouldn't let my mother wear shoes like that. Don't worry, I'll find you some low ones, about 3 inches will do to start."

"3 inches isn't low!" I shriek, and see two young girls giggling and nudging each other.

She pushes me in the cubical, and at the same time I feel her fingers pulling the zip down on the back of my dress, in one quick sweep. The curtain swishes behind me, and finally my brain catches up with the whirlwind that has been the last few minutes.

A hand forcing through the curtain makes me jump.

"Put these on, the girl is getting your shoes."

"Sylvia, I don't wear stockings."

"Christ I've bought them for you already, so put them on."

I take the pack out of her hand and put them on. Tan hold ups, with a delicate band at the top.

I jump as her hand comes through again, shaking a pair of blue shoes at me with a three inch heel.

A few minutes later the curtain gets slammed to one side.

"Hey.....yes you, can you give me a pair of scissors please?"

The girl hands Sylvia some scissors. She tells the girl to wait and cuts the label out of the dress. She hands the girl the label and tells her I'm wearing the clothes out of the store.

"Sylvia, I don't think I should."

"God, will you stop with the negatives?"

I watch her hand the girl my old dress and shoes.

"Bin these before my friend gets cold feet," Sylvia says with a wink at the girl.

I'm stood at the counter paying for things which I don't really want. Sylvia is stood behind me.

"You know your ass looks good in the dress."

"It feels too short," I say, trying to reach down the back to feel where the hem comes to on my legs.

"It's only a few inches above your knee. I like it, and I'm sure Rob will too. The stocking tops don't show, but be careful how you bend and sit."

"What if they slip down?"

The two girls who giggled earlier are now giggling at me again.

"They won't, you'll be fine. Now come on, I'm late as it is."

I follow her through the shop; she's in 5 inch heels in black, matching her tights, a bright orange miniskirt, with black streaks, almost like a tiger print, which sways with every step. The black tube top clings to her like a second skin. I follow her into the hairdresser's for her appointment.

"Is anyone free, Sharon?" she asks as she sits in a chair.

"Linda, come out here, please?" Sharon calls.

"This is Cynthia, she needs her eyebrows sorted."

"I don't...do I?" I mumble distantly, as my fingers trail along them.

Sharon and Sylvia look at each other like they have some sort of telepathic thing going on.

"Darling, it looks like two caterpillars squaring up for a fight. Do you want me to do Cynthia's nails too Sylvia?"

"Yep that bright blue one that I like, it'll match her dress."

I walk down the street with her, and cringe at the smiles, which Sylvia seems to lap up. I feel alien in my own body, and I'm desperately worried about my stockings falling down.

A large glass of wine in a wine bar has relaxed me enough to notice guys looking, as we sit on high bar stools. I'm lost in hearing about her working behind the bar at the pub, and the frequent references to men. She tells me of men she knows, without saying they had sex, but it's obvious enough. If she started telling me details I'd be out of there.

Two men in suits approach us. Sylvia smiles and I just try hiding behind my nearly finished second glass of wine. She accepts a drink and even I know they are trying to pick us up.

"You'll have to excuse my sister she's just come through a messy divorce. I'm Sylvia and this is Cynthia."

"She's still wearing a wedding ring," one guy says

"Yeah, old habits and all that, she'll get over him, she said the first thing she wanted to do was go out and have fun. So here we are," Sylvia says and shakes her empty glass.

I'm watching in horror as Sylvia tugs at my wedding ring.

"Christ sis, have you glued the bloody thing on," she holds it up triumphantly, "There you go, young, free, and now single again."

Arms are round our shoulders, and Sylvia has given me a look to stop me objecting. In truth I'm feeling a little drunk.

"Now if you'll excuse us we would like to powder our noses," Sylvia says with a little giggle."

I watch as she kisses the ginger haired guy full on, until the other guy presses his mouth on mine. He backs away noting my reluctance after a few seconds.

Sylvia leans in and we all follow, "There's a motel round the corner we'll be over in 5 minutes."

She's dragging me off the stool and nodding at Steve the guy behind the bar. The two men are already out of the bar heading towards the motel.

"Sylvia I, I'm not going to go in there!" I say in a voice full of panic.

She drags me down a narrow corridor, we go past the toilets, and she pushes open a crash bar on a door. She takes me over to a high wooden fence, and tells me to watch through the small gap.

One of the guys from the bar is outside the motel rubbing his hands. His mate with the ginger hair comes out smiling. They stand waiting for a moment, their enthusiasm starts to subside. One pushes the other and a lot of pointing goes on.

"Fucking cunts!" gets yelled into the street by the ginger haired guy.

Sylvia grins at me and pulls me away.

We're on the bus together which goes round the corner, we see the two men walking up the road looking rather pissed off.

"He went in and paid for a room, didn't he?" I ask.

"Yep, one of them is as married as you are. I saw him slip his wedding ring off, just before they came over. The gingered haired one might be too."

I can't help laughing with her, and then I stop, starting to worry.

"What if they had come back looking for us?"

"They wouldn't have got past Steve, and if they did I gave Steve a little signal to lock the back door, after we had gone through it."

"Sylvia, have you done that before?"

"Yeah that's the third time. The last time I waited for the guy to leave the motel, and I went and used the room with Steve when he closed up the bar. You do know that was a single's bar, right?"

"No, was it really? I ask shocked.

"Yeah, so we got a couple of free drinks, and sent two married men on their way. Serve them right. Anyway who was that guy collecting the glasses, he seemed to look at you a lot, do you know him?"

"I didn't notice anyone. What did he look like?"

"Young, with a cheeky smile, I've seen him about before somewhere. Shit my stop, see you around, and good luck with hubby, but I doubt you'll need it."

I watch Sylvia get of the bus, she waves at me with a happy smile. I smile to myself and then remember what I'm wearing. I touch my eyebrows with my new nail polished fingers which match my dress. I cross my legs and look at my new shoes. Then up to my thigh at the lace band of the hold up stocking. I look to my left and a guy is smiling staring at my stocking top. I pull my hem down a little, and stare out of the window, embarrassed, until my stop.

I've scrubbed my nails clean and spent an hour trying to find a hiding place for my dress and shoes. In the end I settle for just leaving them in my wardrobe. I can't do anything about hiding my pencil thin eyebrows, but Robert doesn't notice until bedtime.

"Have you cut your hair or something?"

Bizarrely I touch my hair like it must have happened.

"No it's your eyebrows, Bloody hell C."

"What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing....well I mean they look good."

I bat his hand away as he goes to touch them.

A few days later I'm putting my dress and shoes in the charity bag. I watch the van turn up and I run out with the bag. The driver opens the back, and throws it in. I get this weird feeling as the bag rolls down the pile and settles.

"You could be a bit more careful," I say and then wonder why.

He opens his eyes wide and just stares at me, waiting for a reason.

"Well, I mean, I bought those clothes, and, and you just launched it in like it, its nothing."

He looks up to the sky tapping his foot on the ground.

"Lady, I doubt there is a glass slipper in the bag, is there?"

"W, what, I don't understand?"

"Lady it is just a bag of old clothes, here if it makes you feel better?"

He reaches in the van and picks up the bag in an exaggerated careful fashion. He slowly places it back in and taps it gently.

"There happy now?"

I take a step forward and then back like I was going to say something but changed my mind. I can feel the pressure building somewhere deep in side. Finally out it comes.

"I want it back."

His face contorts into a surprised look.

"I. I want the bag back, please."

"You can't," he announces.

This time I do take a step forward, "That's my bag and I want it back," I say pointing and wishing my voice sounded stronger and I wasn't shaking so much.

"It's not your bag, as soon as it hit my van it became church charity property, so tuff."