Susan was out in the back of the cottage looking around the garden and contemplating what she should make for dinner. They’d had some rolls and cheese earlier when they came back from the pond, but it was now close to six o’clock, and she figured James would be hungry again.
He was at the piano, dabbling with the “All My Kisses” song when she came in the back door with a large zucchini and some onions in her arms. Every time she heard the opening notes of the song, she gave a start as if hit with an electrical shock. The song had always affected her that way. Hearing it being written was certainly a novel experience, but she still felt the electrical shock every time he started the song over.
“Close your eyes while I touch you…
You know how I love you…
Remember me while you’re away…
And then while you are gone…
I will try to go on…
And send all my kisses your way.”
She gave a winsome sigh as she looked at him. He was adorable. Maybe not the right thing to say about a guy. Most girls went for “rugged” or “handsome.” But James was cute and adorable, like a puppy dog or baby kitten that you just wanted to cuddle up with and hug. And those eyes…Oh my God! Those eyes!
As she stared, she suddenly was overcome with sadness. She only had two more nights with him before she had to leave. Should she tell him the truth? Would he even believe the truth? She had her iPod, so could show him so many things about his future. Once she was gone, he’d forget it all. She winced. Once she was gone, she would only be a dim memory to him. But, what would he be to her, she wondered. Would all that had happened back here in the past be a dim memory to her too?
She reached up to finger the ballerina shoes hanging on her necklace. She didn’t understand why she felt the way she did. One moment she felt so good being with him, and the next she wanted to run as fast as she could back to the future.
He stopped playing and looked over at her. “A penny for your thoughts,” he said, knowing that she’d been standing silently looking at him.
“I love that song,” she said.
“I wrote it for you, you know.”
She smiled sadly. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’ll be a good memory for me after I’m gone.”
“And for when you come back after your tour,” he added.
Her eyes looked away from his. He stood up and came over to her. “You are coming back, you know...after the tour and all...you’ll come back here to be with me...”
“But you’ll probably be in London by then making records...”
“Then we can meet in London, right? You are coming back to me...you have to...you know you have to...”
She refused to look at him. She felt tears starting in her eyes yet again. He gently took her chin in his hand and turned her face towards his. “Promise me you’ll be back. Promise me.”
Her eyes met his.
“I promise,” she lied.
***
Ian and Lynn motored back to Brighton and to the hotel room, where they both took showers before heading out for a night at the clubs. They went down to the wharf and hopped from one club to another, drinking beer and joining in the boisterous singing.
Then they went back to the hotel room, where they frolicked some more in the moonlight shining through the window, smoked a few more cigarettes and fell into a deep, satisfying sleep.
Susan was in the kitchen shredding zucchini and chopping onions. James was back to poking out tunes on the piano. They’d managed to use up virtually all of the food they’d brought on the day of the picnic, and hadn’t stopped in Little Dippington on the way back out to the cottage to get anything else. But, that didn’t stop Susan from concocting something for dinner.
With the garden bursting at the seams with vegetables and Auntie Annabelle’s well-stocked kitchen, it was only a small challenge to figure something out. She was going to make a salad and zucchini pancakes, a nice vegetarian meal. Give him a taste of the future, even though he didn’t know about it yet.
In the seventies, James would become a vegetarian at the urging of his wife, also named Susan. In the real future, over forty-five years later, he would still be a staunch vegetarian, actively promoting the lifestyle along with his son, Robert, a world-famous vegetarian chef.
She hummed to the music as she worked until it trailed off and stopped.
She looked over at James, who was staring intently at her.
“What?” she asked.
“I was just watching you, is all.”
“And what are you watching?”
“Nothing in particular. The way you’re standing there.”
He got up and came over to her. “Put those things down for a minute,” he said, taking the knife from her hand and laying it down on the counter. He took her other hand in his and led her over to the couch.
“Oh, no you don’t!” she said, trying to pull away. “At least let me finish making dinner.”
“I’m not going to ravish you or anything. I just want to talk to you. We can do more ravishing later.”
He smiled as he pulled her down beside him and turned to face her.
She felt an alarm go off inside her. “What was this all about?” she asked herself.
He looked down for a moment, then back up, meeting her eyes. He was still holding one of her hands.
“My dad asked me this morning what my intentions toward you were,” he started. The alarm inside her went off again, this time loud and clear.
“He likes you a lot, you know.”
“And I like him...” she said.
“So, I’ve thought that I should do the right thing by you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
She jerked her hand away, stood up abruptly and turned her back to him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, jumping up to stand behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.
“I don’t want to talk about this...about your intentions...”
“But...”
“Please, James...please no... Don’t say what I think you’re planning to say... please don’t.” She looked down at her hands that were clasped together in front of her.
A hurt and puzzled expression came over his face. “You don’t love me?” he asked in a small voice.
“It’s not that...it’s not that at all...”
“Then what is it?”
She sat back down and looked up at him standing over her. “Everything’s happened too fast...I feel like my head is spinning...we don’t even know each other...”
“All we have to know is that we love each other!”
“You’re wrong...you’re so, so wrong,” she thought.
He was so young, only twenty years old. What did he know at twenty years old? He was on the brink of becoming world-famous. A fantastic and incredible future lay before him. One that couldn’t and wouldn’t include her.
And, as she’d come to realize this morning, they would never be suitable together. That’s what Mika wanted her to learn from all of this, most likely. All her dreams of him over the years were only dreams. She’d made him into a paragon of perfection in her mind when in reality, he was far from perfect. If she had anything close to perfection, it was what she already had back in the future.
This interlude between them had been doomed from the start. It was nothing more than physical attraction and infatuation at its finest.
They were both head-strong and stubborn. They were both controlling and had to have their own way. He couldn’t keep his temper in check, and she’d turned into a watering pot, crying all the time. And did she really love him? The words were easy to say since she’d thought about loving him her whole life...and they were easy to feel when he held her in his arms and made love to her, but it wasn’t enough. It was far from enough. And she knew she had to make herself realize that.
***
Susan was back in the kitchen, finishing dinner. James was in the living room, sitting on the couch, thinking and brooding over her abrupt refusal to talk about his intentions toward her. It upset him, and he could feel tinges of anger beginning to stir inside him. He knew, however, that getting angry would only make matters worse.
Why didn’t she want to hear him out? What girl wouldn’t want to hear the words he was about to say? Did she love him?
Yes, it was true they’d only known each other for a few days, but if you met the person who was right for you, what did it matter if you knew that person for days or weeks or months? She’d cast a spell on him somehow, and there was no breaking it.
Then it dawned on him that he’d probably scared her by speaking too soon. Maybe he should wait until she came back from her history tour. That would give her enough time to think...and to miss him.
He pictured her in his mind, running into his arms when she returned from her tour, her love for him clear on her face, tears on her cheeks that he would kiss away. He imagined her telling him how awful it had been to be away from him. The longer he thought about it, the more convinced he became that she would come back worshiping him and never want to leave him again.
But then another thought hit him. It was so simple; it almost stunned him. What if he just didn’t let her leave? What if they didn’t go back to Brighton but stayed here? What if she missed her bus? He pushed the possibility into the back of his mind. For now, at least.
He got up and went into the kitchen when she said dinner was ready. He sat down at the table and looked at what she’d put on his plate.
“And, so, what’s this?” he asked, holding up a forkful of green stuff. “It’s a zucchini pancake,” she replied. “Try it; you’ll like it.”
He sniffed. “Doesn’t look all that appetizing.”
“Just taste it.”
He put it in his mouth and began to chew. She looked over at him. “Well?”
“Not so bad,” he said, taking another forkful. “But this is just a vegetable. Where’s the meat?”
“There is no meat...or chicken...this is it. We’re eating vegetarian tonight.”
“Vegetarian? Isn’t that what Hindus or strange people who don’t eat meat do?”
“Yes, and it’s good for you. I’m making you healthy.”
He looked at her over the top of his glass of orange soda as he took a sip. “Nice of you to
keep me healthy.”
“If you only knew...” she thought.
***
James and Susan sat at the kitchen table and ended up talking until midnight. Susan was curious to know his views on politics and some random world events, but soon realized he had no interest in either of those topics at this time in his life. She asked him about any books he’d read and what his favorite book was. He responded that he wasn’t interested in books or reading; he thought it was a waste of time. Then she asked him about gardening, knowing that both his dad and aunt had wonderful gardens, but his only comment was that he didn’t like puttering around in dirt all that much. This would all change later, she knew, but for now, his all-consuming passion was his music. Another reason, she thought, they would never be suitable together. Although she loved music, other than her dancing, in reality, she couldn’t sing or play any musical instrument. Mika had only given her those talents for this journey into the past.
When they got in bed, James reached out for her with a lustful look in his eyes, but instead of encouraging him, she just laid her head on his shoulder.
“Want to sleep for a while?” he asked kissing the top of her head.
“Umm...mmmm,” was her response, closing her eyes.
“That’s all right then. I’ll just wake you up later...”
He fell into a deep and satisfying sleep, visions of their future together floating through his mind.
She, on the other hand, was restless. As soon as she knew he was sound asleep, she slipped out of bed, tip-toed out of the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She reached for her purse sitting next to the couch and pulled out her iPod. She scrolled through the songs, smiling as she passed by her favorite song, the one that James had just finished writing, tempted to play it. She knew she couldn’t.
When she got to the “M’s,” she stopped at the Jim McCrow/Beth Gill song, getting goosebumps all over as she recalled the words to the song. Then she got an idea. She reached for her sketch pad that was laying on the coffee table and grabbed a pencil. She put in her earbuds and hit “play” to listen to the song. As it played, she wrote down the words. She had to listen to the song five times to get it right. She read back the first verse of the song to herself.
“Darlin’ I’ve been dreaming today...
Thinking of nothing but you all day...
Of touching you...kissing you...
Here’s just what I need to do...
Lay down with you...
Pull you close to me...
As close as we can be...
Making love...all through the night...
Feeling you hold me so tight...
Drain my strength away…
Don’t let me go...
I want you now to feel what you know...
Until the night is gone...
Until we see the sun…
Making love...”
She tore the sheets of paper off the pad then put them in the piano bench. Tomorrow would be their last night together. She envisioned them at the piano, her playing the tune and both of them singing...and then...She was going to make it a night he’d never forget...despite what Mika had said about her only being a dim memory once she was gone. He’d most certainly remember the blonde-haired, green-eyed wanton who had graced his bed; she didn’t even doubt it. She smiled to herself wickedly.
Buttons had been sitting on the top of the couch watching her and licking her paws after eating Mel’s can of potted meat that Susan had put out for her.
“So, what do you think of my plan, kitty?” she asked Buttons. “Mrow,” Buttons responded.
***
They awoke just as the sun was starting to come up, casting pale threads of light through the open curtains onto the carpeted floor and up the wall. Susan smiled as she reached down under the covers to find James was erect.
“My, my, what’s this?” she asked coyly.
“Something special, just for you,” he said sleepily, nuzzling her neck.
She pulled him on top of her. “I like special things,” she said softly, taking him into her warmth and closing her eyes as he began moving inside her.
Later, in the kitchen, while they were drinking coffee, James suggested they go back into Little Dippington and see if they could beg some pastels off Simon then head back up the hill under the big tree and do more sketching. They ate some toast, joined hands and headed down the lane towards the village.
Simon was more than pleased to see them again and to provide them each with a box of pastels.
“Enjoy!” he said, as they headed out of the studio.
As they passed Emily’s shop, Susan noticed her Granny sitting on a stool just outside the door. She was staring so intently at Susan that a shiver went down her spine. Granny smiled a near-toothless grin and began nodding her head. Susan linked her arm with James’s, then looked away, quickened their pace out of Little Dippington and walked back to the cottage. It was close to noon.
Before heading up the hill to the big tree, Susan took a couple of leftover zucchini pancakes out of the refrigerator and handed one to James.
“They’re good cold, too,” she said. “But they’re green-looking,” he said.
“Just eat it.” She took a bite of hers. “Mmmmm.”
They grabbed their sketchpads and pastels and headed out the door.
For a half hour, they worked with their pastels, Susan concentrating on James’s profile again, and James working on a picture of the cottage down the hill below.
James was in a pensive mood. Susan wondered what he was thinking, but before she could ask, he said, “So, I think you need to reconsider going on this history tour of yours.” He wasn’t looking at her, just concentrating on his sketchpad. He tried to sound nonchalant.
Pastel still in hand, she looked over at him. “What did you say?”
He put down his pastel to rub his thumb across the paper to blend some of the colors. He still didn’t look over at her.
“I said you should reconsider going on the history tour. I don’t want you to go.”
She placed her pastel back in the box at her side and set down her sketch pad. She turned to face him.
“That’s not possible,” she said. “You know that’s what I came to England for.”
“It doesn’t matter what you came here for. It’s all different now, you know...with us and everything.”
“That might be, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m leaving tomorrow for the tour.”
“At midnight, too...right?”
“Who told you that?”
“My dad.” He continued to work on his picture. “Odd time to leave...but he said it was a turnaround to London.”
“Yes, it is. What’s so odd about that? Buses come and go twenty-four hours a day all the time.”
“Just odd because it’s in the middle of our gig at the club and I’ve never heard of any bus leaving Brighton at midnight before.”
“Well, I didn’t know you when the tour arrangements were made...And I don’t run the bus company…”
“Not important, then. I just don’t want you to go on the tour.”
“I know you don’t want me to go. You think I want to go?”
“Then stay here and don’t go.”
“I told you that’s not possible.”
“But it is, you know. You just have to decide to stay.”
He set down his sketchpad and turned to look at her. “Tell me you’ll stay,” he pleaded reaching out for her.
“This is ridiculous!” she yelled at him, grabbing her sketchpad and box of pastels, then abruptly standing up. She looked down at him. “You have to stop this!”
She ran down the hill and into the cottage. When she reached the kitchen, she tossed the sketchpad and box of pastels on the kitchen table. The box went over the edge and opened, spilling all the pastels out onto the floor. She didn’t care and raced out the back door into the garden where she stood, arms crossed, with her back to the door. She was shaking.
She heard James come out the back door. He came to stand behind her and ran his hands up and down the sides of her upper arms. Slowly, he pulled her back into him and leaned around the side of her neck to softly nibble her ear, then trailed kisses up and down the side of her neck. She could feel his stiffness pressing urgently into her bottom.
She was certain he’d be angry; they couldn’t seem to go a day without arguing about something, but he wasn’t. All her defenses crumbled, and a shiver of pleasure went through her as he cupped her breasts in his hands and rubbed her nipples through the fabric of her dress. What in the hell did he think he was doing? She wouldn’t...she couldn’t...change her mind about leaving tomorrow. She had no choice, and even if she’d had the choice, she now didn’t think she would decide to stay anyway.
She didn’t belong with him. He’d have another Susan at another place and time; the right time in his life for him and for her. And she had someone in the future that she suddenly realized she didn’t appreciate enough and missed terribly.
Staying here would be a disaster. He’d feel obligated to “do the right thing” by her. She’d end up having a baby and living with his dad while his career blossomed and he enjoyed a bevy of beautiful girls and groupies. He’d divorce her, just like Derek would divorce Mindy, and where would she be then? She, Mel and a James junior hustled off to some remote place to live anonymously.
She blanched at the thought. No! It was unthinkable!
One of his hands reached down in front of her dress and inched the skirt part up to her waist, then he reached down her panties and began rubbing her most intimate and sensitive part. She squirmed against the pleasure he was bringing her. He held her close and quietly for a moment before saying softy into her ear, “I’m not going to let you go, you know. I’ve been thinking what’s best for us, and especially for you. I’m not taking you back to Brighton until Saturday morning after I’m sure your bus has already left. You won’t be on it.”
She stiffened. Her blood turned to ice in her veins. She was stunned and not even sure if she’d heard him right. She squirmed again as he inserted a finger into her wetness.
Was he kidnapping her? Was he going to keep her here against her will? Is that what he was saying?
While her seventeen-year-old body and happy hormones responded to his caresses, her sixty-two-year old brain kicked into gear at his incredible statement. Throwing a fit or tantrum now would get her nowhere. Would he tie her up? How would he stop her from just walking out the door, going into Little Dippington and taking a bus to Brighton? She assumed buses came out this way. It wasn’t all that far from the city.
No, he would never physically restrain her; she was sure of that. She could just tell him right now that it was over, that she didn’t love him, that this was all a big mistake and he would let her go. She could even, if she dared, try to tell him the truth, show him her iPod, get confirmation from Lynn, who had probably told Ian and Mindy anyway.
But, she didn’t want to hurt him. And, she did love him. She did! She did! Despite everything, she did love him. Just for this one week, for this brief space in time, she did love him with all of her being. And, at this point in her life in her true past, she’d only dated Donald, who was to become her future mate, once. She wasn’t in love with him yet; she barely knew him. So, this was all okay, right? Loving James like this was okay, wasn’t it?
Her thoughts became muddled and confused as James began to stroke her toward a climax. He stopped and turned her around to face him. For a moment, she thought she saw tears in his eyes, but then he lowered his head to hers and kissed her teasingly and gently, savoring the taste of her. He took his time with the kiss, probing her mouth with his tongue, exploring and tantalizing all of her senses until she became weak in the knees. Her arms twined around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer into her, and her breath became soft sighs, her eyes fluttering open then closed again.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her back into the cottage and into the bedroom, where he gently laid her on the bed. Their eyes were locked together. She reached up her arms and pulled him down on top of her in surrender. Buttons was on the bottom of the bed and stayed there.