Rusty by G. A. Watson - HTML preview

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Chapter 14

 “What’s the matter?” Jane asked nervously. She hadn’t expected me home for another two days, and I must have looked dreadful. It was obvious I was close to crying. I told her I wasn’t seeing Crispin again and then I told her why.

Once I had completed my story, I burst into tears. Jane put her arm round me and comforted me. "I'm angry," I told her when the tears had subsided. "Angry with George for suggesting I should prostitute myself. Angry with Crispin for having left me alone and naked when he knew George was in the kitchen. And both for what he wanted me to do and for having been with other women at his parties while we were together. But at the same time, I was devastated that the fabulous sex we’d enjoyed was to be no more. It didn’t matter to me that the sex had been sustained by drugs of some sort, presumably Viagra and possibly something else. And Crispin had been romantic. I recalled the fifty roses he’d sent me after our first weekend together with the note saying we could make love on a bed of petals. I would miss all that. Miss the views from his apartment; from his bed.

But most of all, I was angry with myself. I had been naive.  I had let myself believe that someone who was important, really good-looking and rich could truly love me.

And yet, he had wanted me to have sex with his friends while he watched and possibly had sex with another woman. I thought he loved me. I desperately wanted to believe he’d loved me; otherwise I had been nothing more than a supremely willing, sex-craving, past-time for him. I couldn’t let myself feel I’d been so easily duped. I loved him. Even with what he had done, I loved him, I told myself. If he promised to stop going to these parties of his and stayed faithful to me, I’d take him back immediately.

And then the image of George would enter my head and I’d feel disgusted. George ‘owned’ Crispin. Crispin was dependent on George. How else could you explain how he had the power to decide the mood Crispin was in? I remembered the first time I’d met George. Crispin said what a good friend he was. George made my flesh creep. My attitude to Crispin was hardening the more I thought of George and the hold he had over Crispin.

It was strange; although I’d learned about the parties and the role I was expected to play, I hadn’t actually thought about the two or three weekends we hadn’t been able to spend together. It suddenly struck me that he would have been having sex with other women while I believed he loved me. The thought sickened me. He could have picked up a STI while with the women and passed it on to me. The feelings of anger I’d had when I found Jake and Neeta together started to rise within me. I screamed at the top of my voice “No!”

Jane, who was getting herself ready to go shopping, rushed into the room alarmed at my outburst. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me. Slowly I explained that it was Jake and Neeta all over again. She understood. Thank goodness I wasn’t on my own this time. And I was relieved it had all happened at the weekend. With luck, I would be able to return to work as usual on the Monday.

The next morning, Sunday, I awoke with a headache like a hangover, but I’d had nothing to drink. In addition, my nose was stuffy, my throat was raw and my eyes ached. It was a summer cold. Jane cancelled whatever plans she had – I was too out of it to ask what they might have been – and stayed in to act as my personal nurse. I was fed soup and scrambled eggs; supplied with tea, coffee and hot chocolate and had my brow soothed with a cool flannel. In between, paracetamol and throat sweets were administered in strict accordance with instructions on the packet. I was allowed to sleep when I needed to and Jane was there to talk to me when I woke. And all the time, she kept me from thinking about Crispin.

I felt a little better the next morning. I wanted to get up and go to work but Jane insisted I stayed in bed. I slept most of the time. I hadn’t realised how exhausted I’d been. When Jane returned after work, I really did feel a lot better. Having Jane living with me had highlighted an aspect of having a lodger I hadn’t originally considered. In times of need, having a friend you can rely on was invaluable. I didn’t have to struggle to prepare food; I had someone to fetch medicines and therefore I could relax and concentrate on getting better. And when I needed to have my morale boosted, Jane was there to talk sense to me. She was a wonderful friend.