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Dave picked her up promptly at eight. Tonight there was something different about him. ‘You look different. Is it new clothes?’
Dave put the car into gear and pulled away. ‘Yes, I did go shopping and bought a few bits. Sent a whole load of my old stuff to the charity shop.’
‘You look good. You’ve changed your hair too, I like you’re new look.’
‘Thanks.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m taking you to my house this evening. All this going out all the time isn’t natural. I want to show you who I really am.’
Julie looked surprised. ‘Oh okay. I’m intrigued.’
They drove on in silence until Dave stopped outside a detached house. ‘Here we are then.’ He opened her car door and led her into the house and through to the lounge. ‘What would you like to drink? Juice, cola, tea, coffee or some pina colada without alcohol?’
Julie smiled. There was something about him tonight that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ‘I think I’ll have to try the pina colada, please.’
‘Sit yourself down.’ He went off to get the drinks.
Julie looked at a painting of a foreign village set in rolling hills. Another picture was of a man playing a guitar. A small silver plate said Glastonbury 1998.
Dave came back and handed her a glass of pina colada with a cocktail umbrella and a cherry on a stick. ‘Thank you.’
Dave nodded towards the picture. ‘Did you recognise me?’
Julie looked back at the picture. ‘You? Is that really you? At Glastonbury?’
Dave nodded. ‘Sit down, Julie.’ He put his glass down and went out of the room. She heard him going upstairs. He returned with a shiny red guitar and plugged it in to a sound system she hadn’t noticed. He strummed up a few notes and then played and sung Lay Lady Lay.
Julie was moved and covered her mouth with her hand. His voice was fabulous. He carried on singing one song after another looking into her eyes. Somehow he looked younger than before and his eyes held a sparkle she’d never seen. He strummed the final note, and lifted the guitar over his head leaning it up against the wall before turning off the system.
‘That was fantastic. Why didn’t you tell me you played?’ Julie asked.
Dave shrugged. ‘I wasn’t sure I would ever play again.’ He sat next to her on the sofa. ‘I’ve lost who I am these past few years. Chrissy, my wife, had been ill with cancer for about two years before she died. I played the role I had to while she was here and then just lost myself when she went.’ Julie put her hand on his leg.
Dave turned and kissed her gently on the lips, and she responded. His tongue probed between her lips and they fell back onto the sofa cushions. He undid the buttons on her blouse and fondled her breasts before working his hand around her back and unfastening her bra. Her nipples were erect as he took each one in turn and ran his tongue around them before making her squeal with delight as he nibbled them. He ran his hand down to her jeans, undone the button and slowly lowered the zip, still tantalising her nipples.
Julie melted as he entered her.
They laid in breathless exhaustion, their arms wrapped tightly around one another.
‘Was that what you wanted to show me?’
Dave laughed. ‘Not exactly, I intended taking it slowly. But actually, that is much more me than that boring fart you thought I was.’
‘I never thought you were a boring fart.’
He raised himself up onto one arm and looked at her. ‘I was sort of locked in no-man’s land. Not really caring too much about anything. That night when I was over-enthusiastic was the first time in four years that I’d wanted to do something. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. So what happened to snap you out of the doldrums?’
‘You, and a therapist named Sheila who I’ll tell you more about over dinner.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We’d better get a move on, we’re supposed to be having dinner in fifteen minutes.’
Julie leapt up and started pulling her clothes on. ‘Well, I like this new you. Much more exciting.’
‘But not as exciting as Mr Grey.’
‘How do you know about him?’
‘I read the book to see what you liked.’
Julie screeched. ‘No! Tell me that isn’t true.’
‘It is true. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late.’
