The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений txt) 📗

Saturday morning I had a fitting for my bridesmaid dress with Jimmie, she was having three of us and her older sister was being matron of honour. Jim being the funky little soul that she was, had chosen fantastic fifty’s style retro dresses for us, they were really simple, in a soft peach colour, with a strapless bodice a wide ivory sash to match the colour of Jims dress and then a full skirt that came just above our knees, with lots of petticoats underneath. Jimmies dress was the same style but where ours were strapless, she had lace over the bodice, with three quarter lace sleeves and a massive bow at the back of the sash around her waist, we all had little short veils for our heads, Jims was longer and covered her face, the whole thing was so her and I just loved it.

I got the usual telling off from Claude and Sally the dress-makers; I had to have my dress made slightly smaller every time we had been back for fittings, then my mother joined in the charge and started going on about how I spent too much time at the gym, at work or out clubbing, that I never ate and that I would never find a husband in a noisy, sweaty club.

“Actually, I have a date tonight and he’s taking me out for dinner,” I state loudly from where I’m standing on the podium while Claude darts the back of my dress where he wants it taken in.

A pin scrapes my skin, only just not piercing it. “Oww!” I complain, looking over my shoulder at him; we use Claude and Sall for lots of jobs for the shops and we referred lots of customers to them who wanted Bespoke tailoring so they we providing their services for free as a thank you to my Mum.

Claude looked up at me and rolled his eyes in an ‘I barely touched you’ expression. “Is there blood?” I asked.

“Oh do stop being such a drama queen Georgia, if you didn’t shock me with that last comment then I might not have moved the pin too close. You are being serious I take it? You really do have a date tonight, with a real man? Don’t go getting your mothers hopes up if you’re just trying to placate her.”

My family had no idea about the life I’d been leading these past six months, no idea I’d been leading men around by their dicks just for the pure pleasure of dumping them as soon as they mentioned the L word, as far as they were aware, I’d been a single party girl, living it up every weekend, which was also partly true and the story that I went with.

“Would I lie to you Claude, or my mother for that matter?” He stood with his hands on his hips; eyebrows raised and pouted his lips. Claude was the gayest straight man I’d ever met and the most amazing tailor, seamstress, maker of things, or whatever his title was, that I’d ever had the pleasure of doing business with.

“Probably yes,” he said through a mouthful of pins. I nodded.

“Yea you’re right but on this occasion I am telling the truth.”

“Who’s the date with? Anyone we know?” Jimmie called over from the other podium where she was being fitted, I looked across and smiled at her, dare I tell her, in front of my Mum, God, I was never going to hear the end of this, my Mum would be wanting to meet him and have him round for Sunday lunch, she was busy faffing around with Jimmie’s sister Julie’s dress with Sall so I took a chance.

“Mr TDH,” I cringed at Jim as I said it. Her and Ash had given me shit for months about him and I told them all along that I wasn’t interested and now here I was going on a date, out for dinner with him no less.

Jimmies jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious, why does everyone assume I’m lying today? Is it such a ridiculous concept that someone might actually want to take me out on a date?”

“No,” my mother piped up. “The ridiculous concept is that you might actually say yes and want to go out on a date with someone. And who’s Mr TDH?” Trust my mother not miss a trick.

“Oh Bern, you should see him, he is absolutely gorgeous, he’s been after George for months, what made you finally say yes G?” I shrugged, shit, what was I going to tell them? “Aww, he spent two grand in the shop, it’s the least I could do.”

“The very least,” my mother said.

“Well, who is he, what do you know about him?” I shot Jim a look; I didn’t want my Mum knowing anything, yet.

“He’s just a bloke we met in the wine bar, he bought me a drink, then he came in the shop and I helped him with some stuff for his sisters twenty-first after I’d sent Ashley home sick, I’ve not seen him in ages, bumped into him Thursday night and he asked me to dinner tonight… Okay, is that enough facts for everyone?”

Claude clapped. “Can’t wait for the next fitting so you can tell me all about it, just don’t go falling in love and not eating, I don’t want to be making any more alterations to this dress, you’re far too skinny right now Ms Layton.”

I couldn’t believe how nervous I was getting ready Saturday evening. I had my hair washed and dried at the salon next door this afternoon so I had a bath rather than a shower when I got home. There were nice clean sheets on my bed and I had lit a few candles about the place, I wasn’t sure what would eventuate tonight because I knew full well that whatever I decided now, if he tried to, Cam would have me changing my mind and doing his bidding anyway.

I changed my outfit three times before settling for a seventies mini dress. It was A-line, in a gorgeous blue colour, with bell bottomed sleeves, I’d bought it at Kensington Market along with a pair of white sling back shoes and the two went perfectly together. I smoked a cigarette while I waited for Cam, I wasn’t much of a smoker but I was nervous. I had had a couple of glasses of wine while I was getting ready, which had calmed me down and the cigarette did the same. My doorbell buzzed, I stood from the arm of the chair where I’d been sitting and counted to ten, didn’t want to appear too keen if I could help it. I looked through the spy hole my Dad had insisted I install but all I could see was his back, I then proceeded to undo the three different bolts my Dad had also insisted I have and swung the door open.

He’d turned around, he wasn’t facing away from me anymore, he was leaning on the door frame, filling my doorway, looking big and gorgeous and so fucking handsome. Just a pair of plain black trousers and a white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to just below his elbows, I could see the hint of a gold necklace at his throat, amongst the dark hairs that I could also see there. Instinctively my hand rose to my throat and I touched my own necklace, the one that had sat at my throat for the best part of six years. Sean, no, don’t do this to me, not right now!

Sean!

Sean!

Sean!

My brain screamed out at me.

They’re all just like Sean, Georgia, all of them.

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!

I literally had to shake my head to clear the conversation that was going on inside it. He stood in complete silence, filling my doorway, just watching me.

“Hey,” I eventually managed to say.

“Alright?” he replied, sounding like a right cockney geezer. He had the strangest way of talking. I’d been thinking about this last night whilst trying not to think about him, he had a strong East London accent, he dropped his H’s but he used words that most blokes from our neck of the woods didn’t. It made me wonder if he had received a private education, if he had attended a ‘posh’ school despite coming from where he did. Not that it mattered, coming from a working class background entitled you to a private education as much as the next person that could afford it, I was just curious, that was all.

“You look stunning,” he smiled slightly as he said it.

“Thank you, you look… well fuckin’ horny yourself.”

“Kitten, really? You’re all dressed up like a lady and talk like a brass.”

“And how would you know what a brass talks like Cam?” He’d pissed me off now, I hadn’t meant to swear, it just comes out. I grew up with three older brothers, they were just words to me, I managed to keep it under control at work, just, well most of the time, but out of work, they just slipped out and I was only trying to pay him a compliment.