Why? A Complicated Love E-Book

Daniel Kemp

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Why? Is a story set in a web of despair, sex, unreachable emotion and love.One man's crippling injuries, caused by an unprovoked, vicious attack, ruins the lives of everyone around him. This includes Terry Meadows, a nineteen-year-old boy who falls in love with the main character's daughter Laura, twenty-seven years before the opening of the story.The twisted, interconnecting matrix in which Francis, Laura's father, lives, destroys and distorts his daughter's image of life beyond repair. It is a sad tragedy with an unexpected ending.

Leseprobe

Why?

A Complicated Love

Daniel Kemp

Copyright (C) 2018 Daniel Kemp

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 by Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover art by The Cover Collection

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Other Work By This Author

The Desolate Garden

Percy Crow

What Happened In Vienna, Jack?

Once I Was A Soldier

Novella:

A Shudder From Heaven

Children's Tales:

Teddy And Tilly's Travel series

The Man Who Makes The Clouds

The Mermaid Who Makes The Seas

The Mother And Son Who Make The Fun

When I was young and life was full I toyed with it, playing the fool. Nightclubs, then bars were where I hung around, not just to hear a beautiful sound. Girls were the prey and a bed to lay. Those were the things that led me astray. I brought heartache to some, to others pleasure, but I'd found love and I stayed in its arms frustrated forever.

Chapter One: A Mishap

The first time I saw her was twenty-seven years ago to this very day, but it is not she who lies in this coffin. She is in my memory and will never die.

“What the fuck!” were part of the first words I heard from this woman and again a coincidence, because that's what I said when I saw her, except mine were said silently and for a completely different reason. Some may say that we were connected by fate; if that was true, then fate was not kind to either of us.

Sammy Swale was thirty-four, I was nineteen and for neither of us was it a first-time experiment in casual sex. We were in the garden of her detached house in the leafy suburbs of Mottingham, close to London but a fair distance from where she worked and I lived.

We had met late on the Friday, preceding this sunlit August dawn, at the Face Club in Soho's Dean Street, my normal second port of call at the beginning of the weekend. I had gone with my usual two pals, scoring some coke as we had arrived. We were out for the weekend with no need of sleep and only one thing on our minds, and it wasn't dancing! I had literally bumped into Sammy earlier in the evening, exchanging only a few words on that occasion. A more detailed introduction came later.

I'd tired of the young things with the 80's bob-and-bang hairstyles and the giggles that erupted every time I mentioned sex. I was direct, maybe a little coarse but I had a passion for playing with girls of my own age and an insatiable appetite that normally I could satiate adequately, but not tonight.

One quick fondle with a quicker, up against the wall in a corridor at the Four-Eyed Cat, having been the sole beneficiary of my expertise so far, before her boyfriend played more heavily on her mind and my ardour was left dangling in mid-air. I was frustrated and eager for more sexual pleasures.

Graham and Keith had left the club. They also were bored. Whether they did go on to somewhere else, as they told me, or off to their homes in Bermondsey where I lived too, I neither knew nor cared. I had a need and only an hour or so to fulfil it, not sufficient time to find pastures new to wander.

At that point in my life I had never been out, let alone had sex, with a black girl. At fast approaching 3am, it looked as though that missing part of my sexual education was about to be filled. The truth was black women frightened me, making me shy away from them. I was not discriminate because of colour, it was a fear. I had admired their beauty more than once but I had heard stories of well-endowed black men and how the women would frown upon whites, believing them inferior in that department. It wasn't as though I could show any samples to get an introduction, if you catch my drift. Our first encounter had been brief. I had inadvertently brushed against her on arriving, causing her to drop a cigarette, which was unusual as I was light of foot and not in the habit of bumping into women accidentally.

“Oops, sorry, that was clumsy of me,” I said, to which she had made no reply, simply picking up the almost unsmoked cigarette and stubbing it out in the silver bullet-shaped ashtray beside the door. The white blouse that she wore with a contrasting bra caught my eye more than the rest of her.

“Did you get enough of an eyeful, mister?” she asked dispassionately, not staying for an answer.

The club was still busy but beginning to empty out as it neared the time that it closed. The dance floor was less full than when I had arrived, now with couples paired off or more in closed groups. I moved rhythmically amongst them in my quest to satisfy my desires but all I could see was unattractive mediocrity with expressionless faces packed into lookalike packages that held no appeal. My previous smoking acquaintance was behind the bar speaking to two other black girls, seated in front of her, with their backs to me. At the exact moment I noticed her she smiled in my direction then swayed effortlessly across the floor and approached.

“Been watching you, you're a good dancer. Got any money on you, boy? I'm hungry and not just for food. Wait for me right outside the door when we close. I'll be the last one out, it won't be until after four. My car is round the corner and I'll give you a lift. Can you wait that long, lover boy, for the time of your life?”

That was it, and not just because I was desperate. She was a beautiful, sexy woman and I was flattered. I was hooked and flying and I was to be carried in her car. Never been with a black girl, never been with a girl with a car. I was thinking that it was turning out to be the day of my life. Little did I know that was precisely what it was about to become.

* * *

She locked the door to the club with a swagger of importance then linked her arm into mine and with an exaggerated bounce, and roll of her bum that kept touching my own, she walked with me in silence for a few paces. I was 'having kittens' in expectation!

“How old are you?” she asked, as we were entering an underground 24-hour car park.

“Twenty-three, been round the block a few times I can tell you,” confidently I replied. To which she laughed and pushed me gently. As I pretended to regain my balance one of her hands went around the back of my neck and she kissed me, driving her tongue deep into my mouth as her other hand rubbed the front of my jeans, playfully pulling down, then up, the zip.

“I'll save that for later,” she said smugly. “Let's eat first, shall we? I know a place where the T-bone steaks are as tender as me.” I was in no mood to argue but neither was I eager to let her go. I held her hand there for longer, asking, “like what you feel, do you?”

“I'll let you know…Cock…ney!” she replied with a wink and a deliberate splitting of the word. We had reached her car and I was driven away by a goddess.

She suggested an all-night restaurant in New Cross that I knew of, but I didn't want to go there and made excuses saying that I owed money to the proprietor and wasn't in a position to pay. That wasn't the reason though. I'll be honest, there was a part of me that was wary. The year in which this took place, white men with black women seen together was rare, and it must be said, where I came from; frowned disapprovingly upon. I was excited yes, beyond anything I had ever known but cautious of recognition.

“Owe any money in Peckham?” she asked. Perhaps it was my imagination. She seemed aware of my discomfort.