the teacher’s.
Emma let the banter continue all around her. The talk was fast, light, highly flirtatious and very silly. Mark seemed to determine the tone of the conversation. Group talk often sinks to the depths of the lowest mind amongst it, the bottom rung on the ladder of thought, and Mark was that rung.
Emma feared she would never be able to sit and listen to such talk without having the shadow of her teenage anxieties. Memories of Sally and teenage boys, and their need to keep her constantly entertained. Memories of how silly grown men would become when talking with pretty little Sally, or how foul a grown woman could become in the presence of two young girls stealing all the attention. At first, when they were very young, Emma would stop herself from saying something intelligent in front of boys when she saw how far Sally got with pure unadulterated idiocy.
Emma noticed how quickly David and Mark were drinking down their beers. David was a mammoth, and his size – or was it just practice? – helped him handle his drink. She knew Little Mark would be foolish enough to try to keep up. Emma could see things getting messy. Sally hadn’t even sipped her champagne. She had moved long ago and sat across from David, beside her husband. David was the only one with his back to the water.
What Emma couldn’t see was that Sally was teasing David again, spreading her legs for him. There was no longer any misunderstanding between them. Sally had declared her interest and David had, by continuing to look, acknowledged it and shown his. He wasn’t taking it seriously, even now, for he was assured that neither was Sally. He knew how the world worked. He saw her behaviour as a game, a very naughty game, but one which would end as soon as it began. Obviously nothing further could happen, he reasoned, they were both happily married. Sally had no idea how inflexible David could be.
Emma was able to deceive the group. She threw in a quip now and again, and did laugh occasionally at what was said. She was certainly ‘one ofthem’ but a boredom crept up on her and she had to stifle a yawn or two.
She began to think of Jason. To wonder at his behaviour and also wonder what David had yet to tell her. Just thinking of him excited her. His youthful exuberance, general awe of her and his great expectations were very attractive qualities, especially now that she was sitting amongst the self-satisfied. She would re-live that moment in the bathroom for the rest of her life. She’d see his tanned ankles peeping out under the coarse blue denim of his jeans and his strong bare feet, she’d see his intense stare when she revealed her breasts, feel the longing which almost overwhelmed her every time she let herself dwell on that glorious moment.
She regretted her behaviour, leaving Jason without saying goodbye. Leaving at all in fact. Regrets were normally something foreign to her, but she knew she’d be a fool to allow the anger to overcome her.
Now that the husbands were here she was faced with the reality of her situation. One – her involvement with Jason was a selfish and harmful indulgence which she ought to have resisted. Two – she’d lifted Sally onto her back, again. And three – David’s desire for children.
She stood up and left the balcony. Upstairs, she lay down on her bed. No tears came. But she was feeling very low. When David came to find her, she pretended to be taking a nap.
FIFTEEN
By the time Emma woke, for she had finally fallen asleep after much circuitous introspection, it was nine o’clock. She was feeling much better, a little drowsy, but her heart was not so heavy, her mind felt clear. She wanted nothing. She lay quietly, happy to be part of the darkness for a while. She could hear David’s voice, at least the bass, reverberating downstairs, at one with the sound of the surf. She was slightly hungry. She made her way downstairs in the darkness in search of food and affection. No one had deemed it
Emma let the banter continue all around her. The talk was fast, light, highly flirtatious and very silly. Mark seemed to determine the tone of the conversation. Group talk often sinks to the depths of the lowest mind amongst it, the bottom rung on the ladder of thought, and Mark was that rung.
Emma feared she would never be able to sit and listen to such talk without having the shadow of her teenage anxieties. Memories of Sally and teenage boys, and their need to keep her constantly entertained. Memories of how silly grown men would become when talking with pretty little Sally, or how foul a grown woman could become in the presence of two young girls stealing all the attention. At first, when they were very young, Emma would stop herself from saying something intelligent in front of boys when she saw how far Sally got with pure unadulterated idiocy.
Emma noticed how quickly David and Mark were drinking down their beers. David was a mammoth, and his size – or was it just practice? – helped him handle his drink. She knew Little Mark would be foolish enough to try to keep up. Emma could see things getting messy. Sally hadn’t even sipped her champagne. She had moved long ago and sat across from David, beside her husband. David was the only one with his back to the water.
What Emma couldn’t see was that Sally was teasing David again, spreading her legs for him. There was no longer any misunderstanding between them. Sally had declared her interest and David had, by continuing to look, acknowledged it and shown his. He wasn’t taking it seriously, even now, for he was assured that neither was Sally. He knew how the world worked. He saw her behaviour as a game, a very naughty game, but one which would end as soon as it began. Obviously nothing further could happen, he reasoned, they were both happily married. Sally had no idea how inflexible David could be.
Emma was able to deceive the group. She threw in a quip now and again, and did laugh occasionally at what was said. She was certainly ‘one ofthem’ but a boredom crept up on her and she had to stifle a yawn or two.
She began to think of Jason. To wonder at his behaviour and also wonder what David had yet to tell her. Just thinking of him excited her. His youthful exuberance, general awe of her and his great expectations were very attractive qualities, especially now that she was sitting amongst the self-satisfied. She would re-live that moment in the bathroom for the rest of her life. She’d see his tanned ankles peeping out under the coarse blue denim of his jeans and his strong bare feet, she’d see his intense stare when she revealed her breasts, feel the longing which almost overwhelmed her every time she let herself dwell on that glorious moment.
She regretted her behaviour, leaving Jason without saying goodbye. Leaving at all in fact. Regrets were normally something foreign to her, but she knew she’d be a fool to allow the anger to overcome her.
Now that the husbands were here she was faced with the reality of her situation. One – her involvement with Jason was a selfish and harmful indulgence which she ought to have resisted. Two – she’d lifted Sally onto her back, again. And three – David’s desire for children.
She stood up and left the balcony. Upstairs, she lay down on her bed. No tears came. But she was feeling very low. When David came to find her, she pretended to be taking a nap.
FIFTEEN
By the time Emma woke, for she had finally fallen asleep after much circuitous introspection, it was nine o’clock. She was feeling much better, a little drowsy, but her heart was not so heavy, her mind felt clear. She wanted nothing. She lay quietly, happy to be part of the darkness for a while. She could hear David’s voice, at least the bass, reverberating downstairs, at one with the sound of the surf. She was slightly hungry. She made her way downstairs in the darkness in search of food and affection. No one had deemed it
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