Albatross (7 page)

Lust

              “Do you really think he’ll be there?” Clare asked, seeing as always directly into the centre of everything Jen thought, knowing in a heartbeat the real reason for the dress and for Jen’s immediate visit to the beach.

              “I didn’t think you’d still be here…” Jen commented honestly, glancing across at her older sister walking beside her still. But the response she got was not exactly what she was expecting.

              “You can’t get rid of me.” Clare replied, quite seriously, with something even of a sinister tone to her voice. “I’ll be here forever…”

              Jen nodded, but didn’t reply. Her sister’s words were true, she knew that.

But, considering the circumstances, they were nearly impossible to swallow.

              Clare, of course, was right.

              She couldn’t be wrong.

              Soon the beach was in sight.

The skies were still clear, though perhaps a little cloudier than earlier in the morning. A salty wind cut at Jen’s exposed legs, unused to being open to the elements.

Clare strolled beside her younger sister still. Neither of them spoke now, and she followed Jen as she led her down across the pebbles covering the top half of the beach, just off the path, instead of immediately onto the rocks as per usual.

Passing over the shingles, sunlight dancing across her face, Jen took off her shoes as she reached the divide between the pebbles and the beach. She stepped forward, burying her feet into the soft, oddly warm sand, and felt it slip and slide blissfully between her toes.

              She had been on this beach virtually every day for the past year, and yet in all that time she hadn’t once enjoyed it like she was now.

              “Jenny…” Clare started, but Jen knew exactly what she was going to ask, and she sighed deeply, knowing that her sister’s words were altogether a possibility. “What are you going to do if he doesn’t come?”

              But then, as if on cue, to answer Clare’s question, and indeed even her own, Jen caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye.

              She turned to face the figure that had appeared across the way, on the sand. But when she laid eyes upon it, it was not who she had expected.

              It was not Deacon.

              It was the albatross.

              He had landed barely a dozen feet from where Jen stood, his vast wingspan casting an enormous shadow over the golden sands.

Jen looked up, confused.

The water was so green, and yet so blue at the same time, that it only reminded Jen of something else entirely.

Even the rocks in the distance upon which she usually sat glistened, wet and sparkling under the face of the sun.

And her albatross looked on curiously.

He didn’t look quite as sad today, and instead looked a little more satisfied with what he saw.

As much as she knew he was a solitary creature, Jen couldn’t help but feel the majestic bird looking on at her now seemed thoughtful, considerate, and had many other characteristics of a human; a decent human that is.

One that actually cares.

With that thought, Jen looked across to her sister, only to find that she was glancing between the two of them, and her expression was a most puzzling one. It was profoundly clear and vastly indecipherable all at once.

The albatross spread his vast wings, flapping them only a single time in an enormous movement, taking to the skies, and casting a massive shadow over Jen.

But suddenly, in his place, out of nowhere, stood Deacon.

The instant Jen laid eyes upon him, smiling his cheeky grin, she went weak at the knees. Without a sound he walked over towards her, and as he approached, Jen caught yet more movement out of the corner of her eye.

Glancing across, she saw Clare once again walking off into the distance, disappearing without a trace.

In that moment, Jen didn’t even really know how it felt to see her older sister walk away.

It was something she had been dreading for a very long time now.

“Good afternoon.” Deacon greeted her, bowing his head slightly, and his voice like rough velvet made certain that she knew exactly how she felt right then.

He wore brown board shorts and shoes, and a red collared shirt that was not quite buttoned all the way to the top or the bottom, which for some reason drove Jen nuts, though she had no idea really why.

She realised then that she’d not even noticed what he’d been wearing the night before, but he most certainly didn’t look out of place now, and her heart skipped joyously.

Suddenly racing, beating furiously against her chest, Jen could feel her heartbeat in her ears, and the impulsive desire to leap forward and lock her lips to Deacon’s returned.

The feeling was infinitely stronger than before, almost overwhelming her, and she was forced to beat down the desire with more control than she had ever exercised in her whole life.

“Good afternoon…” She replied, managing to get her words out without stammering, but only barely.

“You look lovely.” Deacon complimented her.

“Thank you…” Jen replied, blushing, naturally.

Deacon turned up one corner of his mouth, looking at Jen with deep affection in his eyes.

An entirely new range of emotions flushed through Jen’s body. Her heart never ceased its manic racing, shaking her ribs and shuddering her every breath. Her palms burned, her stomach churned, and her gaze flitted between Deacon’s eyes, his shirt, his chest, and everything else…

Something burned in Jen’s chest and pushed fiercely at her. It was something that she didn’t know; something that she had only felt for the first time since meeting Deacon.

What was it?

She didn’t know.

She just wanted him.

She needed him.

It was a burning desire she was barely able to keep in check.

She was lust filled and desperate. But for what, exactly, she didn’t quite yet know. Although, she knew what she wanted in that particular instant, for it was standing right in front of her.

Deacon tucked his hands into his back pockets, taking a deep breath as he did so, and Jen bit her bottom lip achingly.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence, though by no means was it awkward, at last Deacon spoke again.

“Will you be here again tomorrow?” He asked Jen, pulling one hand from his pocket and brushing her exposed arm lightly, though for no real reason.

Where she had felt the cold before, Jen flushed even more furiously, and unexplored heat continued to surge through her.

“I’m…I…” She started, but Deacon’s smile widened and spread to a slight chuckle, forcing her shyness out.

Jen could have sworn she saw the albatross pass overhead yet again, but when she looked up, he was nowhere in sight.

Deacon followed her gaze curiously, but the skies were empty.

“Looks like he’s gone…” Deacon noted whimsically.

“What? How do you…?” Jen questioned, shocked.

Deacon didn’t answer with words. He only smiled shrewdly and winked cheekily at Jen.

Her gaze dropped and, of course, she continued to blush terribly.

“No, I won’t…I’m working at The Rusty Oak…” Jen finally managed to answer. “I’ll be done just after half four…”

“Well then!” Deacon exclaimed suddenly. “And perchance, my dear, might you be free past the hour of five, tomorrow evening?” He asked, gesturing extravagantly and bowing slightly, splaying his arms out to his sides, though smirking cheekily up at Jen as he did so.

She couldn’t take much more of this.

He was reducing her to a flushed, infatuated wreck.

But as much as she couldn’t stand it, she loved it, and she never wanted it to end.

“I am…” She replied, grinning uncontrollably herself, praying he would say next what she hoped was coming.

“In which case…” He declared, holding one hand to his chest and brushing Jen’s arm again with the other. “My dear Jen, I shall pick you up from The Rusty Oak at five tomorrow evening!”

“Where are we going?” Jen asked, of course.

“Ah!” He replied mysteriously. “That would be telling!”

“How will I know what to wear?” She asked, nervous and excited all at once.

“Just bring a jacket so you’re warm enough…” Deacon replied, smiling with his eyes.

“Okay…” She responded, unsure and certain all at once.

“Are you at The Oak today?” He asked then, flicking his wrist to check his watch. Jen hadn’t even noticed he’d been wearing one, and saw that it was a silver and chrome device, very neat with a well-worn brown leather strap.

“Yes…” Jen replied, though she desperately didn’t want to leave yet.

“Would you permit me to accompany you to work?” He offered then, holding out his hand in a very gallant manner.

Jen nodded numbly, and within a whirlwind of an instant they headed off, the sand whooshing beneath Jen’s feet and between her toes, and crunching and grinding beneath Deacon’s brown leather shoes.

She slipped her shoes back on as they crossed the gravel, brushing the sand from her feet, and Deacon held his hand out to steady her as she did so. Jen took it gratefully, but then, as they stepped back up onto the path, and soon enough found themselves once again on the lanes, heading towards The Rusty Oak, she desperately wanted him to hold her hand again as they walked.

Though she was unsure exactly why, for they had never seemed so before, the spaces between her fingers felt empty, and undoubtedly his would fit between them perfectly.

But Jen was too shy, and too embarrassed to say anything, and almost before she knew it The Rusty Oak came into view, as several clouds parted overhead, following the winds.

They were walking in silence now, but he was still smiling that cheeky smile that seemed, for reasons unknown, to drive her crazy.

Then Jen spotted her sister out of the corner of her eye, stood by the entrance to The Rusty Oak as they approached.

Clare had been waiting for her, and by the wide smirk on her face, clearly she knew exactly the internal turmoil that Jen was struggling with.

‘Just do it!’ Her older sister mouthed silently to her from across the lane.

Jen shook her head and gritted her teeth in indecision.

It was now or never.

They were almost at The Rusty Oak.

She was running out of time.

At no point over the last year had she stuck her neck on the line for anything; she hadn’t had the courage.

She hadn’t taken a risk for so long. She didn’t even know if she still knew how. But now, for the first time in far too long, this felt like it was worth it.

Deacon was worth it.

Screw it.

They were already so close together that their arms brushed more occasionally than not, and neither of them made a move to change that.

Suddenly, Jen felt her fingers interlocking with Deacon’s, and they slipped together so easily, weaving together so perfectly, that it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

They held hands for barely thirty seconds before they reached the tall, stone inn looming before them that was The Rusty Oak.

Somehow, in what felt like only a moment, they had bypassed Clare, leaving her far behind, and found themselves stood beneath the giant metal oak tree itself, out in the back garden.

It was quiet, though it would undoubtedly be busy later, but at least for now they had some privacy.

Laura’s head popped round the corner, having seen Jen slip past and out into the garden, wondering if she was alright.

She stopped, however, when she saw that Jen had company, smiling and holding hands with a stranger that Laura did not know.

Her face lit up and her heart leapt for them, overjoyed, and she rushed back inside so as not to disturb.

Jen did not see her.

Deacon did, out of the corner of his eye. But then, he saw everything with his all-encompassing gaze, as Jen was quickly coming to realise.

He ignored the fact however, for his focus was entirely on her.

He still held Jen’s hand, gently and tightly all at once, and her fingers locked between his pulsed with her racing heartbeat. Deacon could feel it vibrating against his palm, and he cast his cheeky smile upon Jen again, sending her weak at the knees, his face barely inches from hers.

What Deacon did not see, however, somehow, was Clare, sat directly behind him, watching the pair of them with an expression cast across her face that was completely unreadable.

She looked as though she was made of stone, but at the same time so fluid and fragile that she might disappear at any moment.

But Deacon was oblivious to her presence.

“Have a good night…” He breathed to Jen, his voice not even a whisper.