“I love you, Sil.” He held me close like he didn’t want to let go.
It was the second time he’d said it. I didn’t think I could ever hear it enough. “I love you.”
“Good night,” He took a step backward, “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Sausages and eggs,” I named his favourite morning foods.
“And bacon and toast,” He named mine.
“See you then, Sweetheart.”
“See you then,” He didn’t leave. The midnight bell rang.
“Run, Oliver! You’ll get detention if you get caught in the halls after twelve!” I opened the door and stepped through the threshold. “Leg it! Go!”
“I love you!” He hissed, spinning on his toes and taking off at a sprint.
“I love you, too!” I hissed back, but I was sure he did not hear me. He was already down the hall and around the corner, his long legs moving him to his own dormitory as quickly as they could take him.
There wasn’t anything after that night that could have possibly made me sad. I had what I had always wanted. I had someone who loved me and someone whom I could love the same in return. Oliver and I had no fear of each other. The whole, ugly world drained away around us until there was nothing left but him and me and whatever it was we were laughing about at the moment. We had heaven in each other.
I still worked hard for that scholarship. I still studied and sometimes I got a stressed, but I knew in the end it didn’t really matter. No matter what happened, no matter where we ended up, he and I would be together. It was really the only thing that mattered to me.
Almost through our final term of school that year, spring break came around. Oliver and Alexander had set up a camping and fishing trip for the two of them at the cabin their father had inherited from their late Grandfather. It was actually a decoy so that Alex could have a rendezvous with Meredith at her uncle’s cottage in Chipping Norton while the uncle was on holiday. Meredith and I conspired to tell my father that she needed me to stay with her to house sit. He agreed, as I knew he would, never asking a question other than the address. Hence, Alexander and Meredith were free to have their affair and Oliver and I were on our own for nearly two weeks.
Ollie and Alex said they needed a night to get the cabin in order, so the two of them headed out of Bennington with their mother and I left off with Meredith that Friday evening for her uncle’s cottage. I had never spent any real time alone with her other than in the corridors at school and I was not sure how we were going to get on, but the truth was once we got out of the confines of Bennington and her guard was down, she was really quite charming. I could see why Alexander liked her. She was funny in a sort of childish way and had keen, if not a bit rose tinted, insight into the world. Her uncle had stocked the ice box, so she and I prepared a buffet of expensive foods and spread it out in the sitting room. She changed into her pyjamas before it was even dark and brought blankets in. We sat and talked most of the night. Or, rather, she talked and I listened.
It was a bit disconcerting. She was so besotted with Alexander that you would have thought that the sun rose and set only for him. “I love his laugh,” She told me and I had to agree. Alexander and Oliver both had an infectious chuckle, “And his eyes. And the way he looks at down at me just before he kisses me...” She drew her breath and smiled dreamily.
I didn't say much at all when she'd go on about him. I felt bad because I knew that Alexander was becoming quite bored and annoyed with her and this holiday was a last ditch effort to rekindle any kind of interest on his part. He'd told me that himself, that he'd about had it with her whining and clinging to him all the time. I think Meredith knew it, too, but she was not ready to let go of the fantasy element of the relationship. In her mind, Alex was the perfect man. Demented, really, as he was back to not being very nice to anyone, including her.
The twins had their mother’s car when they arrived late Saturday afternoon. Meredith and I had been watching for them all day, so we both saw them coming up the drive and raced into the garden to meet them. As he got out on the passenger's side, Meredith threw herself into Alexander’s arms and met him with a long, sloppy kiss.
Ollie covered his mouth as if he was holding back vomit and tossed Alex’s bag on to the grass, right over the top of the car. “All right, all right, you two! Take it indoors!” He said playfully, but Alex and I both knew he was serious.
“Right then, we will!” Alexander picked up the bag and put his arm around Meredith, “Happy camping, you two!”
Ollie and I watched them disappear inside the house.
“Let’s go!” I was so excited I couldn’t stand it. I climbed into the car, “Come on, Ollie! I can’t wait to see the cabin!”
He’d told me so much about it I couldn’t linger. Plus, I didn’t want to wait anymore to be alone with him.
“I give them the week before one of them’s lobbing butcher’s knives around the kitchen at the other,” Oliver shook his head as he eased into the driver’s seat. “Alexander’s out of his bloody mind with that one. She’s completely mental. Ever seen Fatal Attraction? I hope there aren’t a lot of small animals at the cottage. Oh, look, a baby cat!” He pointed at a cat sleeping in the sun in front of the garage, “Run! Run away, little puss! Run away now! Or it’s in the boiling pot for you!”
I tossed my bag into the back and threw my arms around his neck. I kissed him hard on the mouth. “A whole night and I missed you so much! I kept waking up thinking I heard the car.”
“I would have come sooner if I could have, but the cabin was kind of a shambles. No one’s been there for a while, so it needed a lot of work to make it liveable-like. I had to chase out the spiders for you.” He winked and then kissed me again, “You smell fantastic.”
“It’s new lotion. Meredith gave it to me. Do you like it?”
“Oh, yes. Keep using that.” He gave me a long stare, his dark eyes wandering over my face, “Sometimes it still shocks me how pretty you are.”
“Wow, I think I’m blushing,” I answered as I belted myself in.
“I’m so bleedin’ lucky!” He put the car in gear, “Ready then? It’s a long enough drive, but first we’ve got some shopping to do.”
I’ll never forget the feeling of complete freedom as we drove out of England. It was truly just us for the first time ever. Nobody of authority knew where we were or where we were going. We had nobody we needed to ring to let know we were fine, no curfew to answer. We blasted down the M54 with the windows down and the radio up listening to the Cure, talking and laughing as he purposely hit puddles along the road to see if he could get me wet. We stopped at a grocer’s on the border of Wales and bought a few days’ worth of non-perishables and then popped into a tiny restaurant for supper where we got the giggles and sat snorting while the waitress shot us dirty looks. It was dark by the time we came out, holding hands and still laughing so hard we must have seemed mentally impaired.
We drove on past Welshpool, the “danger zone” as Ollie called it, referring to the fact that it was possible we'd drive up behind his parents on the A483 if they were out. Thankfully we turned off the highway without incident, arriving in to one of those tiny, lovely Welsh villages that look like a snapshot off a post card. On he drove until he turned on to a dirt road that appeared to lead nowhere at all. We took a few more narrow turns until we came upon a place where the way forked into four directions. He took the one going North-East and drove us down a lane that had been dug by years of tire tracks in the grass. He turned one more time, moving slowly as we made our way over uneven ground and finally just stopped. He killed the engine.
“We’re here!” He said happily, looking over at me with a magnificent smile, “Mind, almost. The path’s too overgrown to take the car further. We cleared it as best as we could, but we need to move a fallen tree and that isn’t going to happen without a chainsaw. The cabin’s not too far. I’ll carry the heavy stuff if you can get the lighter bags and hold the torch.”
We got out of the car and began gathering up the sacks of groceries. “Just take one and we'll get the rest tomorrow,” He told me as he tossed my duffel over his shoulder, “What did you pack? An elephant? Great grunting gorillas, my arm will come off!” He teased and then continued to talk excitedly, “I set the cabin up last night, so it’s liveable, but a little musty. Grandpaddy used to bring us here when we were children. It’s magical, you know? Tomorrow when it’s light I’ll show you where the faeries live.”
“The faeries?” I asked. Oliver always talked about fanciful things as if they were real. It was something I loved about him, but one of the things we did not have in common. I still didn’t believe in anything I couldn’t touch and see. It was not yet part of my experience.
“You being from Scotland and you don’t believe in faerie folk? If you were Irish they might shoot you,” I could see him grinning at me as we walked, but he tripped over something in the road and straightened up, “Yeah, Grandpaddy always said that there were faeries here and he showed us the circle where the Lord and the Lady of the Wood live. He used to talk to them. They’re real. Elves are all over this place, especially in the trees. I never saw one of the little folk myself, but, mind, I’ve certainly heard ‘em.” He glanced at me again curiously, “You really don’t believe there’s a chance, do you?”
“A chance of what?”
“That they’re real. The faerie folk.” He watched me for a response, but I gave him none, He continue, undaunted, “Elves are real, that I know. I’ll tell you when we were kids and we used to stay here things would happen. They’d play jokes on us-like, the Lord and Lady would. Like take our socks and hide them in trees. The only way that we’d get them back was to leave sweets in the circle and in the morning our socks would be neatly folded on the table.” He heard me laugh, “You honestly don’t believe me, do you?”
“Not really, but it’s a funny story.” I was trying to watch where I was putting my feet as the path steepened. Nasty vines grabbed at my ankles and I wondered half-heartedly if the elves had planted them to punish me for not believing in them. “I wish I had worn socks, though.”
“Do you want a pair?” He asked sincerely, helping me over a downed branch, “We can stop and I’ll get you a pair from your bag, providing you brought some.”
“I did, but it’s OK. I wouldn’t want them to disappear tonight.”
“Ah, my silly Sil. Why would I lie? It’s true and you’ll find that out when you can’t find your socks in the morning!” He rubbed my shoulder, nearly dropping one of his grocery sacks. “You don’t believe in anything, do you?” He sounded almost sad, “I know you don’t believe in God, but not believing in magic just doesn’t make sense.”
“I never said I don’t believe in God,” I defended myself, “I said I’m not convinced. And most people would say that a faerie stealing your socks doesn’t make sense. Why is not believing in something that can’t be proven so difficult to understand?”
“Because, Love, there’s that and then there’s faith. Then there’s you and me and I believe we are magic. That’s why I brought you here. To prove it to you.”
That statement made me so happy I could have burst, “Maybe there is such a thing then,” I admitted, “If it’s something you can feel but not see. Things like love. Love could be magic.”
“There are lots of things you can feel but not see,” Oliver said knowingly, “And if you point the torch right there,” He moved my hand higher so that the beam of light widened, “You’ll see the cabin.”
It was a tiny, semi-circular one room cabin situated deep in the woods, sitting high on a steep hill. I could hear water ripple from behind it and spotted an owl watching us from a tree right beside the front door. It flew off as we approached. Oliver hurried up to the door, set down his sacks and tugged on the handle. It didn’t open. “What the bloody?” He tugged again, this time harder, and then moved aside a pot from the porch. He took the torch from me, pointed it down and ran the beam of light along where the stone foundation met the bottom of the cabin. Finally, he threw his hands up, “Oh, he did not!” He swore, “That stupid git took the key!”
“What?”
“Alexander! He locked up! First I told him not to lock the bloody door and next he keeps the key in his pocket! I’ll kill him! I swear I will!”
I was shivering in my shoes, the night air biting at my bare legs. “Oliver, it’s OK. We can drive back and get the key.”
“It’s a three hour drive one way, Love!” He was exasperated. His dark eyes were wide and his brows were so high they disappeared under his fringe, “It’ll be near midnight by the time we get there and tomorrow by the time we get back! I had planned to show you around the wood in the morning!” He looked around quickly like a thought had struck him, “Well, sod it all then! I’ll chop it down!”
“Huh?”
“The door,” He looked around irritably and then found what he was searching for; a heavy handled axe leaned against a pile of split wood. “I’ll chop down the door!”
“Oliver, wait!”
I started to stop him, but found I had to step back instead as he swung the axe over his head until the door splintered almost in half. He kicked it in, turned to me and smiled, cocking an eyebrow, “Old wood, Love. I’ll get a new door tomorrow when we go to town,” Oliver held out his hand palm up, “And a proper new lock and key that I’ll keep with me. Come in then and let me show you the place.”
There was nothing to it. It was one oblong room built of stone and wood with a bed shoved against a far wall, “I put clean linens on it,” He told me proudly, then pointed to the bathtub, which was right beside the bed, “We can use this, too. I washed it-like, except that there’s no running water. You have to take water from the well, and then boil some on the stove to make it warm and dump it in. When you’re through, you pull the plug and there’s a hole cut in the floor where it drains out. Brill! Mind, stove’s there,” He motioned to the other side of the room, “Burns wood and it gets right warm in here.” He lit an oil lamp, which was on a sconce against the wall. The room sprang to light, “There’s the loft up there. That’s where me and Alex used to sleep. Don’t think we’ll need that, but the ladder’s hanging just in case. Now the loo is outside, back there, but I left some paper in here in case you don’t want to…”
“I love it!” I told him enthusiastically.
He beamed, “Really?”
“Yes! But I’m freezing!”
“Right! I’ll light the stove!” He shuffled past me and began to fiddle with some matches while I threw broken boards from the door out into the lawn. When he was through lighting the fire, he hung a duvet over the doorway, which did very little to keep out the night wind. We sat on the floor near the warmth of the stove and snuggled beneath a woollen blanket, enjoying the closeness of each other. That was something that we did our whole life together, just sit and be close. Often it involved no erotic touching or even kissing, but it was very much just as intimate. Oliver’s arms were the warmest, safest place I had ever been or would ever go. I never found another spot where I felt more like I was home.
So there we were a few hours later, wrapped in the blanket with our fire burning down, and the sun already on the rise. We were dozing a bit, with me leaned back against his chest. I could hear his breathing become light and feel his body slump and then he would jerk and wake us both. I was just asleep when he whispered, “I love you, Sil.” He ran his hand along the inside of my bare arm. I felt his nose against my neck as he inhaled my skin, ”Just Silvia Cotton, not hurt or ticked off,” He kissed my ear, “Just Silvia Cotton and she’s just fine…and I love her.”
He’d said it a thousand times by then, but every time he did I felt a rush of warmth. I turned my head toward him and my lips lingered on his. “Let’s go to bed,” He whispered in the same voice, “It’s almost light outside and you’re already asleep. No need to stay on the floor when there’s a bed to lie in,” I allowed him to half lift me in his ar
ms and went with him to the side of the bed. It was dark away from the stove. I could see the outline of his body as he pulled his heavy sweater over his head. He drew back the duvet and was on his knees as he held out his hand for me to take. I reached for him and stepped in close, taking him off balance.
It was me who initiated it. I began kissing him slowly on his mouth, his chin, on his throat, his neck, his ears, the part of his chest exposed beneath his t-shirt. I let my hands wander over his broad shoulders, the back of his neck and face, down his sides to his hips. I undid the button on his jeans and pushed them down with his briefs. I ran my fingers across the hard, flat muscles of his tummy, let them slide around his hips and across his bottom. I pulled up his t-shirt and lifted it over his head.
Oliver returned my kisses and my touch. His hands caressed my face and arms. They tangled my hair. He crushed me to him, warmed my thighs with his long fingers. He unzipped the zipper on my skirt. It clung to my hips for a second, and then fell uselessly to the floor. He fumbled with the buttons on my blouse until it fell open, then ran his lips along the bulge of my breasts, not even trying to undo my bra or go beneath it, just breathing me in and tasting my skin. Then he unclasped it with one hand and caressed my breasts as he kissed my neck.