Chapter 19

Against all Sam’s inner protestations that there was no chance Aidan would contact her, either because Julie did not tell him, or because he simply did not want to know since he had gone back to Julie, Sam was on tenterhooks for that week and the week following.

There was, as expected, no contact made, and as the third week began Sam felt her spirits plummeting as if a great gap were opening deep within her. At the end of that week as she climbed into bed, the tears came and with them a debilitating distress.

She lay awake for hours feeling a deep loneliness. Then she admonished herself; she was a strong independent woman, she would carry on and get over this, though she admitted to herself that she’d never felt this way about any man in her whole life, not even Bill. Eventually she fell asleep, and in the morning felt unaccountably better.

However, no matter how positive a slant she put on things, there was a wistfulness at what she had lost, and Megan began to worry about her. She tried to get Sam to go out with her, but Sam refused, saying she needed some time to adjust.

It was largely work that kept Sam going. She felt aimless, living from day to day, staying at her flat in the evenings and weekends and working, still impervious to Megan’s urgings to go out and try to forget. She knew now that she had been keeping her life on hold ever since she had left Aidan for home, in case by some chance he would come back into her life. Now it seemed clear to her that this was pointless.

While Megan failed, support came from a woman at work called Stephanie, who noticed that Sam was preoccupied and seemed depressed. She gently wormed the story out of Sam over a couple of lunches. Sam was very matter-of-fact about her story, but Stephanie saw through that and was careful in the support she offered.

It was the custom for a mixed group of about ten translators to go to a pub on Thursday evenings for about an hour, before going home. Sam had never gone, though she had been invited in the past.

At work she had kept up appearances, and forced herself to be cheerful when on interpreting assignments, and she smiled and passed the time with her co-workers. Really it was only Stephanie who saw through the veneer to the hopelessly sad individual beneath. So it was Stephanie who broke down her resistance and took her for the drink after work on Thursday.

Where Sam had found Megan’s efforts to get her out clubbing were too much and too soon, and therefore threatening, the thought of only having a drink with no further interaction beyond the conversation needed, allowed Stephane to convince her. After that first evening, Sam joined them every week, and it did cheer her up.

Lawrence, one of the translators in the Russian and Slav department, took a special interest in her. He always walked her to her bus after the pub. He was very good looking, almost a caricature of the tall dark and handsome man. His hair was jet black, his eyes an arresting green, a strong jaw and a wide mouth which always seemed to be smiling or at least to be hinting at one. He was taller than her by a couple of inches, slim, with thin delicate fingers,

He was a good listener and engaging company, and she felt attracted to him, but she was still hurting and wary of a relationship. Further, he was a work colleague which sounded alarm bells in her mind, so when he asked her out for a meal as they waited together for her bus, she turned him down gently. He smiled, and seemed unperturbed.

“Am I allowed to ask you again from time to time?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Of course you are,” she said, and kissed him briefly on the lips. It did give her a little thrill and it lifted her spirits. She was tempted to change her mind and agree to go, but the bus arrived and they parted.

It was at one of the Thursday evenings in early December that she learned to her surprise that the London office always took a complete week at Christmastide, finishing work on Christmas Eve and not returning until the second of January. She immediately did some research and found a cheap return flight to Vancouver. It further lifted her spirits and the next Thursday she was so buoyed up she agreed to have a meal with Lawrence that weekend.

She met him at the restaurant, and they enjoyed the food and each other’s company, exchanging amusing stories about their families and histories. Sam did not mention her sister’s death nor the Scottish encounter with Aidan, nor the month she spent with him. It was too personal and the memory was still painfully fresh.

They went by taxi to Sam’s building. As they drew up to the front door, Sam became serious.

“Lawrence, that was a lovely evening, and you are the best of company, but–”

“You are not going to invite me in,” he interrupted, “and I quite understand. Will you come out with me again?”

“It’s just that I’ve recently had a very bad time in a relationship, and I’m still scarred, but yes, I’d love to do it again. I think things are going to be busy up to Christmas, but perhaps afterwards? I’m going back to Vancouver for the vacation.”

“Well, there is the Christmas dinner given by the company,” he said, “Would you be my date for that – it’s a very light thing, no one will stare, we all tend to pair off without obligation!” and he laughed. “Some of us – not me – are married, but I’ll be the envy of all the other blokes if we arrive as a pair.”

“I’d be delighted to be your ‘date’ that evening,” she laughed, then he kissed her. This time it was not a fleeting brush of the lips, but a full on sensuous lip-lock. Shocked at first and sensitised down to her toes, she soon kissed him back with equal passion.

The taxi was waiting so it was a short kiss, but nonetheless intense for all that, and with a ‘good night my darling,’ he was back in the taxi and it was driving away, leaving her quivering with desire, and with a certain dampness between the thighs.

On Monday morning, Lawrence apologised to her for the kiss.

“Don’t apologise,” she said with a twinkling smile, “I enjoyed it, as I think you know!”

“It was a little sudden, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“I’m glad!” she told him. “Are we still on for the dinner?”

“Oh yes, if you’re still willing.”

“Like Barkis,” she said.

“Very literary, sure your name’s not Peggotty?” he reposted. “While we’re on it, would you like to have dinner on Saturday?”

Immediately she felt things were running away with her, and she shook her head. He was too attractive, and she needed to cool off.

“I’ve a date with Megan, my neighbour,” she lied, though she thought Megan would certainly agree. “Thanks all the same, let’s just leave it at the Christmas dinner for now, eh?”

He smiled, as he always did, and she again felt that frisson of pleasure and desire. She wondered what might be going on in his head, for nothing seemed to phase or bother him. She pondered where this might lead, but was adamant it would not be soon.

Megan turned her lie into the truth. Merton, whom she had been seeing from time to time, was picking her up to take her for a meal.

“Why don’t I give him a bell, Megan suggested, “and see if Jerry is about? You liked him, and we could make up a foursome.”

Sam thought she could do a lot worse than Jerry that evening, and fancied an evening away from her apartment. Jerry was free and arrived later on with Merton.

After the meal they went to a pub and had a good time chatting and exchanging stories. Sam was a favourite because she was from another country, was a multi-linguist and had a wealth of anecdotes from her interpreting assignments, and the attempts on her virtue by some of her powerful and wealthy clients.

Jerry owned a house renovation company, and had his own wealth of risqué stories, and the conversation became quite animated, including his about one woman who wanted to pay for an entire kitchen renovation on her back.

“Did she?” asked a laughing Sam.

Jerry looked mysterious. “That would be revealing a professional secret,” he grinned. “But you Sam, now and again you must have been hit on by blokes who you really fancied? Did you allow--?”

Sam put on her pure angelic face and an demure English accent. “Oh Jerry, I couldn’t possibly kiss and tell. Well, I could kiss, but I won’t tell!”

While the conversation went back and forth, becoming more flirtatious and sexual in tone, she began to half realise she fancied this man, the second she’d shown real interest in since Aidan. First Lawrence and now Jerry.

Aidan! Again her breath caught as she remembered and felt the loss of him, but she knew Aidan was beyond reach and this man was flirting, available, very sexy and next to her. Having thought that, she admitted to herself that Lawrence seemed more her type and she remembered how badly she had fancied him after their date.

Once back at the block where the girls lived, once again Megan invited Merton in, and was about to extend the invitation to the other pair, but Sam was already opening her own door. Sam looked round at Megan, who nodded. Sam nodded in return and led Jerry into the apartment.

When they reached the living room, Sam turned and faced Jerry, standing close, her head tilted up to his. She was blocking his progress to the sofa, and she was very close indeed.

Jerry had been with a lot of girls and he thought he knew what this meant, so he pulled her to him and kissed her.

Sam felt the kiss right down to her toes. Her hands went up to his neck and played with his hair as the kiss went on and on, mouths opened and tongues danced together. When they parted, breathing heavily, Sam stepped back a little, but Jerry stepped forward, and kissed her again. His hands went to the back of her dress and she could feel the zip travelling downwards, She froze, but Jerry continued heedlessly. She felt the dress loosening on her shoulders and chest. She pushed on his chest and they separated enough to allow the garment to fall away, down her arms to puddle at her feet, which was not what she wanted...

“Jerry ... No ... I don’t...”

But Jerry had taken in the sight of her breasts behind the light lacy black bra then his eyes had swept downwards, to her lacy boy shorts and her tapering legs, and again pulled her into a tight embrace as he kissed her once more to stop any rejection, running his hands over her bare back.

She had seen the lust there, and for a moment It felt good, that sexy look of desire, but immediately she knew she didn’t want this. He was just like so many other men who had taken her. Aidan never...