Page 8 of Always Beth
‘Twice in one day. I’m a lucky man.’
She’s dressed in the fluffiest dressing gown and the most horrid pair of slippers I’ve ever set eyes on and coupled with her continued unpleasant attitude, she’s a surprisingly fascinating turn-on.
‘I’m just checking that you’ve settled in okay?’
She holds her gown tightly around her and peers out the door. ‘Are you my neighbour? Please tell me you’re not my neighbour?’
I push my hands into my pockets and lean forward eagerly. ‘I suppose I am your neighbour. I’m about five minutes that way.’Now is probably not the time to tell her that I’m her landlord, of sorts.
‘Great,’ she forces the word out and clutches on to the door so tightly I can see the whites of her knuckles.
‘Are you still reeling from before?’
‘I’m livid.’
I fight back the grin that’s threatening to overtake my face.
‘How’s Prudence?’
‘It’s Poppy.’ She grinds her teeth and on cue, the dog joins her at her feet, and I swear I catch the low hum of a growl.
‘Well, I’ll leave you to it.’ As I turn, I practically feel the frustration radiate from her and know she isn’t finished. She can’t help herself.
‘I see you left your four-legged companion at home?’
I turn back to face her. ‘Yes, he’s gone straight to rehab. I did try to warn him, I said Dick you’ve one last chance.’
‘Rehab?’ Arching her eyebrows, her eyes narrow as she holds my gaze.
‘Yes, for his little problem.’
‘Problem?’
‘Yes, he’s a sex addict. He said to me, “James, it’s different this time, I love… Poppy,” but I had to be a realist, Beth, they’ve only just met. It’s sex and nothing more.’
‘Are you the village idiot or something?’
I laugh as I consider my response. It’s been a long time since I’ve found someone this challenging, especially a woman so unassumingly attractive and quick witted as Beth. ‘I’m something alright…’
I drop my eyes down her body and back up to meet her icy stare, which is still pinned on me.
Swallowing hard, she regains her composure. ‘Thanks for dropping by. If I need some sugar, I know where to come.’ Her eyes roll immediately as she realises that her sarcasm has failed her miserably.
‘Please do…’
As I wander back along the path, I know she’s watching me and won’t even give her the satisfaction of turning back. To think I didn’t even want to come to the cottage. Perhaps I could make these little check-ins more regularly. I should probably keep this from Lauren, I promised her my full attention right now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with Beth.
Beth
If I need some sugar, I know where to come?I’m an idiot. The queen of the double entendre. My humour has got me in trouble more times than I can remember. But it seems now I’ve met my match. Perhaps that’s why I find him annoying? I stir the pot of wax on the stove and hover lightly to catch the sweet scent emanating around the kitchen. I glance down at the packaging, Country Candles. Highly unoriginal, still it’s something for now, and hopefully it will see me through until my divorce settlement, whenever that may be. I sit at the table and pick up the last letter from my solicitor – this guy is an absolute joke.Don’t want the bad publicity?I guess that’s what happens when you try to divorce your unfaithful husband who also holds a seat in Parliament. There’s only going to be one winner here and sadly, I don’t think it’s going to be me. I allow the letter to fall back to the table and wipe my eyes with the back of my dressing gown sleeve. No matter how far I’ve come to escape the horror of my life, I can’t escape the memories. Discovering my husband was having an affair after telling me countless times that having each other was enough. He destroyed my dreams of starting a family. It’s clear it was never about the kids, it was always me – I was never going to be enough.
I need to find a new solicitor and fast. There’s only so long I can leave it before it all starts falling dramatically out of my favour. It’s not a small settlement by any stretch of the imagination. It’s messy and complicated beyond belief. It may only be money and bricks and mortar at stake, but it’s the principal. Opening my laptop, it immediately shows me the news, the same as every other day. Although today it’s personal. There, as bold as brass, staring back at me is Stephen withher. I don’t know what function it is, but it’s bound to be some dreary cheese and wine party. I used to hate them, but in this moment, I can’t help the mixture of anger and jealousy swelling inside. I glance to the caption underneath the photo.Stephen Foster and friend.Friend?Yeah right. I can see exactly what’s going to happen here: as soon as the divorce is settled they’ll announce their relationship, then an engagement, and then… I slam the laptop shut as my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.
* * *
Pushing the final wax melt from its mould, I fall back against the couch in triumph. Since posting my candles all over Instagram, I’ve been inundated with orders. More than enough to keep me occupied. How long this is sustainable for though, that’s another matter entirely. I take a large mouthful of wine and wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve. I must look spectacularly classy, but this is about the only saving grace of being single and living alone. I can do what I want when I want, without being judged. I may be sworn off men for life, but I don’t know how long I can stay sworn off sex. Not that the sex I have to compare it to is much to go by. Towards the end, Stephen and I were like passing ships in the night and he would only make a move on me if he was drunk. He used to tell me work was so full-on he was exhausted. Now I know it was because he was getting exhausted somewhere else. I can’t believe what a pig I was married to. Taking several sips one after another, I’m finally relaxed enough to take matters into my own hands. Jumping from the couch, it’s only when I reach the first stair that I realise that things are probably not where they should be because of the move. I quickly sprint back to the couch and open the back of the remote control, knocking the batteries out one by one. Times really are desperate.
Collapsing back on my bed, I pull open my bedside drawer and rummage around blindly for the solution to all my problems. Six inches of pleasure that can’t cheat on you or break your heart. I feed the batteries in one after another and empty my wine glass for the second time this evening before lying back and letting the sensations take over my body. My trusty vibrator, the thing that kept me sane when my sex life dwindled with Stephen. The only problem, if you can even class it as a problem, is that it makes you orgasm within minutes and sometimes, just sometimes, you need a little more than that. Today is no exception and I find myself teetering on the edge. I quickly rack my brain for today’s go-to fantasy; I’m so horny, it could be anyone. I force my hand under my top and across my chest, my nipples hardening under my touch, my body arching from the bed as I meet every thrust of the vibrator, and I close my eyes as I fast approach my climax. Then, out of nowhere, the image invades my brain, and it’s so vivid that I can’t push the thought from my mind before I come hard, thrashing wildly against the mattress.
