by Amanda Jones
a simmering hot chocolate with marshmallows
He
watched her. He admired every part of her. The kink in her arms bent at the
elbow to form an embrace with air. The pout of her lips with concentration. The
gleam in her eyes, alive with the music. The erect back and supporting shoulder.
The spread of her legs surrounding the body. Her young, supple fingers glided
smoothly over the strings and the contact between flesh and gut or wire-bound
nylon was extremely satisfying. He loved her with desire and hated her talent
which prevented him from touching her now.
She
was unaware of the face flickering with emotion beside her. She fascinated him
with her tempting movements stroking the strings but was playing in innocence.
She did not mean to fill him with lust and envy. She wasn’t aware of him as she
caressed her harp.
It
came from Wales. She lived in Swansea and had bought her instrument as a
comfort. She had played a harp when she was younger, but it had been destroyed
with fire when her parents divorced. Her father had burned with it. She knew her
mother had set the fire up but so, so slyly that it was never arson. She rarely
saw her now.
Music released her. She was able to escape from the
stress presented at the office and problems displayed by Anna. Anna, how she
loved her. She was four now and would soon be starting school,
Anna.
Nick helped her, but she didn’t love him. He wasn’t the
father of Anna. Chris had left her pregnant, he couldn’t face up to the
responsibilities. She had to. Then Nick had come along. Nick had always helped
her and loved her but she had never loved him. He insisted on visiting her daily
although he despised her music. She wasn’t going to stop playing for him.
Circumstances had stopped her before but not this time.
She
earned enough money from working at the office and her house was beautiful with
a colourful arrangement of flowers blooming in spring and summer. She had been
working at the office for five years now. She had left school, done a brief
typing course and now spent her life staring at a monitor. She always had
headaches after work. Paracetamol was her only comfort apart from Anna and her
harp.
Nick bought her things. She didn’t really want them but
he insisted. She kept telling herself that she’d have to say goodbye to him but
he was so persistent, persuasive and wouldn’t let her go. It would hurt him if
she told him to go and she wasn’t totally insensitive to him. Besides, she liked
him to kiss her.
He
wanted to kiss her now but she was playing that bloody harp. Always producing
such splendid sounds from the thing but ignoring him. He knew she didn’t love
him but you could cultivate it, couldn’t you? Surely he’d be rewarded one day,
she did like him to kiss her. That was a positive sign, wasn’t
it?
So
sweet. So crisp and flowing. If only everything was. She delighted in her music,
it kept her alive and even Anna wanted to play. He thought, not two of them.
It’s bad enough with one, even though he liked it
secretly.
They were happy though. Nick often stayed and was a
perfect father figure for Anna. How long could it go on without love on both
sides? She’d love him soon, surely? But she seemed incapable of love since Chris
left her four years ago. Maybe she didn’t trust him. She
didn’t.
About the author
Amanda has ongoing
work in horror, poetry, short stories and non-fiction. Author of the Missy Dog
series for good causes, her book ‘Missy and the Whitts’ is the first, about her
dog Missy who dreams about real history. The second book ‘Missy and the Old
Fossils’ is being published online.
Her Go Fund Me
campaign supports good causes through my Missy Dog Books.
Her books are
available from the links below through Missy’s Matters and through Kindle.
Missy’s Matters is my Conscious Crafties Shop full of creative, handmade goodies with many donating to good causes. https://www.consciouscrafties.com/crafties/missys-matters/
Facebook https://m.facebook.com/MissysMatters/
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/missysmatters/
Twitter https://mobile.twitter.com/Missysmatters
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