We had a lengthy conversation, and I decided to run to that cabin where I had suffered all my pain two weeks ago, and get changed into a nice pretty top, and black skinny jeans, and obviously: shoes or trainers.
I felt really weird, as if I had forgotten something, or as if I were a jigsaw puzzle, and one piece was missing – it was a longing feeling; stronger than the longing for Amanda’s blood. I t was overpowering, and I felt as if I were going to crumble away if one more thing happened.
I decided to go alone, for privacy, so I could have a shower without worrying about being walked in on, or Joe popping up out of nowhere when I was half-naked. I laughed at myself as I thought of that last option, and then quickly wiped it from my mind, just in case he were trying to find ideas for something to do in his spare time.
I ran there, grabbed some clothes and underwear from my duffel bag, put them on the bed, ready to take into the bathroom, stripped off, and got in the shower.
The water felt nice and warm against my skin, though the thermometer read 13˚C. I got washed, and washed my hair while I was at it.
I realised that I had left my clothes on the bed in the other room, so I got dried, wrapped the towel around me, and went to retrieve my clothes.
Sitting there, on the bed was none other than Joe! I couldn’t believe it! If I could have blushed, I would have been bright red by now.
I grabbed my clothes, and had to juggle my towel.
I tried to get away as quickly as possible, but ended up having to walk slowly because the towel was in danger of falling down if I moved too quickly.
I could hear Joe chuckling behind me, and I slammed the bathroom door for his benefit.
I saw the recent occurrences in his mind, as I was checking that he hadn’t seen too much, and I realised that I must have looked like a loony; then he started thinking something else, and that was when I had to block his thoughts from my mind. I never knew that Joe had a filthy mind, but then, did I really know him at all?
I got dressed slowly, and then risked going back into the bedroom to put the wedding dress in the garment bag.
I walked in the room, and the emotion on his face was – disappointment? Why? Surely not.
I only had but to imagine why…
“You look a bit overdressed.” He commented, and the saying ‘boys are only after one thing’ that my Mum used to always say ran through my mind.
“Look; that was really embarrassing for m just then.” I confided in him.
“Well, you’ll have to get used to it – you can’t use the not-being-married excuse now.” He chuckled, and seemed to be enjoying my embarrassment.
“I’m just not ready yet.” I said, looking at my nails, picking out some imaginary dirt.
“We’ve still got the honeymoon.” He shrugged, and then grinned.
“Yeah, we’ve still got – the what?!” I asked, completely shocked.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you; we’re going on a honeymoon for a month, starting tomorrow.” He said, casually, as if announcing that we were going out for dinner, not on a honeymoon!
I did reason with myself, that I was married so it was acceptable, so I decided that maybe we could take that slowly, and not run before we can walk, so to speak. He would respect my decision if he really loved me though, which I was completely sure that he did [love me and respect me].
“What time are we going?” I asked him, trying to sound casual.
“Nine o’ clock - sharp.” He said, and winked at me.
“Whereabouts are we going?” I asked him.
“That’s a surprise.” He said, grinning seeing my annoyance.
“Oh come on! It’s our honeymoon, therefore we are supposed to know where we are going; not just you!” I complained.
“Do you want me to lie to you?” He asked, with a quizzical expression on his face, and sounding very confused.
“No – I’m dying from the suspense!” I exclaimed, and put my hands to my throat as if I were choking. He looked worried for a second, but then I cried “kidding!” and we both fell about, laughing.
“I’ll tell you when we get there – chances are, and knowing how bad you are at Geography, you won’t know where we are anyway.” He teased, and I stuck my tongue out at him, at which he had jumped back, surprised at the shiny gold thing that sat there; I must have forgotten to tell him that I’d had it pierced.
“Hey – why did you get that done?” He asked, blinking many times in astonishment.
“I don’t actually know – it seemed like a good idea at the time.” I shrugged.
“It’ll get in the way.” He protested.
“I don’t see how.” I said, clicking it against my teeth, as if to sound ironic.
“Here – I’ll show you.” He said, and kissed me, but purposefully stuck his tongue out, and it stroked the piercing.
My eyes grew wide, with shock, and then I had to pull away because of a heavy pain.
“What?” He asked, seeming offended.
“Pins and needles – you’re sitting on my leg.” I said, through gritted teeth, pulling my leg out from beneath him.
“Oops – sorry” He laughed, and sat me on his knee, caressing my leg, and gently examining it.
“You’ll have to tell your Mum that we’re going away tomorrow.” He thought.
“It’ll be too late to tell her tomorrow; what time is it?” I wondered aloud.
“Midnight. No offence, but why?” He asked.
“It’s not too late to phone her now.” I replied, and reached into my handbag for my iPhone that I had received for my birthday.
I phoned my Mum, and she had been just getting ready for bed; I had caught her whilst getting changed.
She was happy for me, but thought, as I did, that a month was rather a long time to go away from home and not know where you are going – too long in fact.
We went back to Joe’s house to tell them that I was going to my house for about an hour, and then I went to pack every single item of clothing that I had, into my very large pink suitcase.
When I met him back at his house, he was all set to go too, so we talked, and talked, and talked…
The time to go to catch the plane came around very quickly, and I soon found that I was helping Joe load our luggage into the back of the taxi.
“Bye! Have fun, and behave yourselves!” Sally called, as the taxi slowly drove away from the house that I felt was as close to home as my own home was – maybe even closer.
It was only a fifteen minute drive away, but it felt like fifty, and I soon got fidgety.
‘Relax.’ Joe thought to me, and I just couldn’t.
‘What’s wrong? Why can’t you relax?’ Joe thought, starting to get worried.
‘It’s just that I don’t like no know where I’m going – I get paranoid.’ I admitted.
‘You’ll find out soon.’ He thought.
‘Well soon is just not good enough – I want to know now.’ I complained, and he chuckled.
The taxi driver looked in his rear-view mirror (no, not a mirror to look at your bum) to see what Joe’s chuckling was about, as he had only heard silence, but when he couldn’t see what was so funny, he shrugged and turned his gaze back to the road, and just in time too, as he had to swerve to avoid a black cat. That reminded me of something that my Dad used to say – there were no such things as black cats, just very mucky white ones. He was never one to believe in superstitious things, and he frequently walked beneath ladders so to prove his point, until the time that is, when one collapsed on top of him!