Chapter 13
Sunday seemed to arrive in a blur. Saturday was so full of things to do with Dog, that she hadn’t even seen the day before she and the big Dane fell asleep on her bed. But Sunday would be different, they had to be organized and with the shoes they had bought the previous day, she would be ready for anything at Robert’s family Sunday tea.
Robert arrived just at two thirty in a vintage Triumph Spitfire coupe. It seemed so typically laddish to arrive in a convertible, but it was a gorgeous old car. As she and Dog made their way to the car her pace slowed as she began to be concerned over the convertible tiny car. Dog didn’t seem concerned in the least. He ran ahead of them and leaped over the side into the narrow back seat, before they even got near the sidewalk. Dog was eager to go and typically stared back at Jenny with his condescending ’are you daft?’ look. He was proving to have an amazing attitude.
“Come on jump in. She runs a bit rough but then she’s older than me.” Robert said, excited to have the chance to show off his toy. Dog barked as if on cue. Jenny climbed in. Dog loved the twenty minute ride and sat with his ears flapping madly with a totally Scoobie Doo grin. Thankfully Jenny wore a long coat and didn’t freeze from the wind.
Jenny had never been to the Coley house and it was a huge mansion. The family was fifth generation publishers and had prospered for years. There were more than a dozen cars parked out front for the event and Jenny was a little apprehensive. She was learning to be very cautious around Robert.
‘Come on tea will be on the terrace and we’re a bit late. Thankfully it’s my younger sister’s turn to arrange the entertainment. God knows what’s in store. She’s a bit mad.” Jenny climbed out of the car and Robert held the door for her. She straightened her hair as Dog watched nearby. Robert took her elbow, he was eager to get to the terrace.
As they rounded the sandstone building the terrace and gardens opened out in front of her. They were vast and littered with classical urns, fountains and statues.
“Bit over the top, but that’s mother for you.”
“At last.” Jenny whirled around as a birdlike woman trotted to her. It was Mrs. Coley and she was a miniature version of her Gran. “Jenny. I have so looked forward to meeting you for years. Robert is such a pig for never bringing you over.” She turned to the embarrassed Robert who was whispering to his sister. “Robert take her coat.” The little lady barked.
A flush went through Jenny. Everyone was dressed in conservative blazers and the women in summer floral dresses. Jenny cautiously undid the belt of her coat and let Robert take it. Total silence. Robert was speechless. She turned to see him and he was paralyzed. “Thank you Robert.” He didn’t respond, just backed away as politely as he could. When she turned back she saw the rest of the party were as dumbstruck with the effect of the dress. The lemon dress had sucked the marrow from their bones.
“Aaagh!” Someone screamed. It was Robert’s sister running to her. “From Pamela at Sew in Love!” She ran over to Jenny and spun her around. “I love it, it’s gorgeous. I so wanted one like this. Oh, yes, yes. You look stunning. I’m Pamela, same name that’s all.” The sister was bouncing with delight.
“Hi. Jenny.”
“I know, I know.”
The older woman put an arm around her daughter and pulled her away. “Forgive her, she’s a fashion nutcase.” She turned to the excited girl who was almost the same age as Jenny. “Your other guest is waiting and everyone is eager to start.”
“Oh yes, yes. Robert find a seat for Jens.” The use of Jenny’s nickname surprised her, as she had never met the bubbly Pamela before. Pamela was a nightmare of excitement and reminded Jenny of the rollercoaster rides at theme parks.
Everyone shuffled around and found a chair or balustrade. Jenny realized there was a raised platform in front of one of the fountains with a small cement bench at the front. Everyone sat facing the bench. This must be the entertainment she thought.
Escorted by the still slightly dazed Robert, she and Dog ambled to a central area among the small gathering. The lemon dress and huge black beast parted the guests in the garden as if it were the red sea of conservatism.
She settled on an arch shaped bench with Dog between her and Robert. When she looked up, terror raced through her. Anger gripped her molars, her skin festered with bloodthirsty rage. ‘That bastard’, she thought, ‘I’ll kill him.’ She could feel her eyes tighten and he touched her hand. She slapped his and stood up when the caustic voice ripped at her.
“Sit.” Her Grandmother’s grated warning immobilized her. Jenny watched, riveted with fear and rage as her Gran opened the leather notebook and settled on the bench before her. All the guests were staring at her and her Gran’s eyes challenged her to defy the command to sit. Then she suddenly broke away and referred to the text. “What can my love be?”
Jenny wanted to die. She heard the first few lines then nothing, it was blank. Her eyes swirled and only the strength of the leaning Dog at her side kept her upright.
Love Alive
Should my love be closeted, shriveled from view?
Should it be paraded like bangles, for lust-gorged
hyenas to chew?
Should it wither to a cold death, a poisoned disgrace?
Should it stand exalted sanitized, in some
inaccessible place?
If I should entomb it, the glory dies on the vine,
If it should be harlotted, it turns bitter as common
swine,
Should it not be worshipped, held in highest esteem
Yet allowed to wallow in lover’s hearts, forever to
dream.
For me my heart song has been cloistered, hidden
away,
Venturing not out in public, abhorring temptations
sway.
But now it stands gripped, enticed and rattles its
cage,
My love denied pours through in clamoring rage.
My love wants to escape, unshackle, give birth
Gorge on the love beings of others, consume them
in my girth.
Oh, that freedom should find me such a great love
among men,
Until that moment my lust must lay celibate, asleep
in my pen.
For the day when he feeds on me, then my heart
shall thrive
I shall yield my love unstoppable and know then I
am alive.
Minutes passed, she wasn’t sure, it all seemed a haze of outrage, violation and ecstasy. She recognized the last couplet. It brought her around.
“So there we are ladies and gentlemen seems a love has been uncovered.” Her grandmother announced.
Jenny struggled to her feet. Everyone stared, their eyes full of serene admiration. She felt unsure of herself, shaking, violated and elated all at once. She spun around and slapped Robert hard across the face and sprinted for her notebook. Robert caught her shoulder and spun her around and encased her lemon dress in his arms, kissing her fully on the mouth. Over powering her. Just as she wanted.
She heard her Gran whisper over his lips. “Seems you’ve lost out to love Jenny, at last you’re alive.”
# # # # #
Author’s Note
All characters within this work are fictitious. Any resemblance or similarity expressed or implied is purely coincidental. The work is completely constructed from the author’s imagination, research and is a fiction.
The poetry is original and by the author. If you should find any of the poetry inspiring enough to share with a loved one well… do so, that’s what loves about.
* * * * *
Charitable Perspective
Books by Kevin Farran as represented by Kit Publishing strive to raise awareness and funding for various issues and worthy causes as they relate to the issues within his books.
The contribution aims are to be determined as a per
centage of net book proceeds from individual book sales and done with equal consideration to the parties involved. Information on the charitable efforts can be acquired by viewing links on the Kit Publishing website at https://www.kitpublishing.com
Updates are done at four month intervals due to publishing processes.
The Bench will equally support:
- The RSPCA www.rspca.org.uk
- The Great Dane Adoption Society www.danes.org.uk
*****
Other works by Kevin Farran
in 2010 / 2011
Bathe Me
The power of a child’s dream …even if it’s a lie.
In support of the The National Geographic and NSPCC
*
Beyond Charitable Lines
A triumph for survival and hope against man and disease in Southern Sudan.
In support of the Facing Africa Charity
*
Taemane
Love and Greed... next to diamonds they are the hardest elements.
In support of Human Rights Watch
*
Burn My Bonsai
Emperor Hirohito villain or hero? The answer may be in his lost diary. Tokyo burns in a duel between honor, romance and radicals.
*
Strokes of Deceit
A moment of madness, self-preservation or all consuming love?
In support of Kiyomizu-dera temple in Kyoto Japan
*
Kiss of the Kris
A love born in imprisonment and grown in resistance.
In support of Human Rights Watch
*
The Chocolate Fix
From Eminent Domain, to adultery, to breast augmentation, nothing escapes this exfoliation of the spirit.
Support charity TBA
*****
About the Author
Kevin Farran was born in a leprosy colony in what was once Northern Rhodesia. Since leaving Africa in his childhood he has lived and traveled extensively through Japan, Canada and Europe.
Trained in performance arts at the University of Calgary and the Vancouver Playhouse he has performed on stages in Canada, Europe and Japan.
An avid runner and cyclist (when the knees hold out) he splits his time between solitary literary pursuits, working with his designer wife on period home restorations and supporting their sons football careers.
A lover of Great Danes and classic cars he and his wife are searching for a new sprit to replace their harlequin Great Dane ‘Blue’ who recently moved on.
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