Chapter 84 – Solstice – Part 17
GEORGIE
“How are you this morning?”
My smile blooms, all unbidden. “I’m good.”
He strokes my cheek. “I’m pleased to hear that.” His mouth opens, covering mine, and he teases my
lips apart. After a moment, he pulls back, sucking at his lips. “You’re minty.”
Heat pools in my cheeks. “I… used some of your mouthwash… All that coffeest night. And the
garlic… I hope you don’t…”
He pecks a kiss onto my forehead. “Good point. Should have thought of it myself.” Throwing back the
sheets again, he rolls out of bed and strides through to the bathroom, giving me a grandstand view of
his naked rear.
Great ass…
And shoulders…
He’s tall and straight, not overly muscr, with a lean, well-defined physique. Long thighs meet
sculpted buttocks, a slight dimple over each by the base of his spine…
My covert examination of my…
…Lover…
… is interrupted as he vanishes into the bathroom, closing the door behind.
Still dreamy, I lie, listening to the muffled sounds of gargling and running water. He re-emerges after a
few minutes, sliding in alongside me again. One arm around my waist, the other at my shoulders, he
pulls me close. “I was thinking, it''s a lovely morning. Why don''t we go out to eat? There’s a cafe I know
down by the harbour that does a breakfast buffet. Coffee and pain au choct down by the water. We
could spend the day together…” He pauses, brow creasing. “Or am I making assumptions? Do you
need to be anywhere else?”
“No, I don’t need to be anywhere else. And I’d love to spend the day with you.”
His forehead smooths again, the crease settling at the corners of his eyes instead. “Good. That’s
settled. But first…” His hold on me tightens and he eases my ankles apart with one foot. “On your back,
Georgie. I’ve not finished fromst night yet.”
*****
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The silver of the morning has gilded to golden sunshine by the time Borje releases me, the pair of us
sated, panting and, if not exhausted, at least ready for…
“Coffee!” he announces. “Come on.” With augh, he rolls me across the sheets, so I have to grab the
mattress not to tumble over the edge.… “Out of bed.” And I’mughing too. Sweaty, hot, my hair a mad
tumble, he hauls me up and shoves me ahead of himself into the bathroom. Later, showered, dressed
and driving, there seems no reason not to keep up the rather silly smile that keeps swooping over my
face. Still, Borje wears a matching silly smile as he takes my hand while we stroll to his harbour cafe
through June sunshine.
It’s rather beyond breakfast time by the time we arrive at our table, so we settle for calling it brunch.
The buffet offers much more than the coffee and pastries promised. A jug of freshly squeezed orange
juice sits beside the small espresso pot. Berries and yoghurt, butter and strawberry conserve, join
mixed breads, still steaming from the oven. A tter of cheese and ham is garnished with arug,
watercress and huge, fat slices of tomato. Sweet and piquant enough to set my teeth dancing a
fandango, they’re a world away from the chill, savourless taste I expected.
Borje chuckles at my reaction. “They have a market garden, and they grow the sd themselves,” he
A light breeze catches his fine hair, flicking it over his face. Repeatedly, he flicks it back, I think
unconsciously. Without meaning to, I find myself smoothing a hand over him to settle the blow-away.
He seems startled, momentarily pulling away, but the expression softens to a smile as he rxes
again.
His eyes pass over my shoulder, the smile fading. “Oh, God…” He moves close, his voice lowering as
he speaks behind his hand. “Turn your face away from the street. Look in toward the cafe.”
Despite myself, I cast a furtive nce along the road. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone I don’t want to talk to. Maybe she won’t…”
“Hello, Borje…” The voice is harsh, prating and smacks of its owner being determined to be heard
regardless of opinion. “… Fancy meeting you here.”
“Fuck!” He groans. “Great. Just what I need.”
I talk sidelong, trying not to move my lips. “Who is she?”
“Marcie,” he mutters. “Commonly known as Marcie the Mouth.”
“Not a friend of yours, then?”
“No. I can’t stand the woman.”
Marcie is an obvious, and unsubtle, bottle-blonde, her hair all but rigid underyers ofcquer. Her face
heavily over-made, I’d guess she’s in her fifties, but it’s hard to tell. Her skin has that leathery quality
thates from too much time either sunbathing or on the tanning tables. Her brows are over-plucked
and perhaps she’s conscious of being quite short, because she totters towards us in spiked heels she’s
not truly mastered. Flinging out her arms, “Borje. It’s lovely to see you. It’s been so long.”
Shoe-horning his smile back in ce, Borje stands to greet her as she bears down. He epts the
hug, but his fingers barely touch her shoulders as he delivers an air-kiss, well offside of one cheek.
“Marcie, yes, it’s been a while.”
There’s something in his manner. Not just masked dislike, but…
But what?
Is he nervous?
What on earth would he be nervous of?
Then I award myself an internal kick. Obviously, Marcie is an old me. And he thinks I might react
badly. I’ve given him enough reason to think I might fly off the handle for no good reason.
So, I stand with him, offering my hand. “Marcie, is it? It’s lovely to meet Borje’s friends.”
She rakes me with her eye, one lined-in brow arching. “Yesss…?”
“Georgie.”
“Georgie.” She gives a short nod, her nce measuring me up, down and sideways…
Measured, weighed…
… and found wanting?
Or not wanting, perhaps? After all, I’m the one seated with Borje.
“Well, Marcie,” he begins, “It’s been lovely to see you, but…”
A waiter arrives. “Madam?”
“I’ll have a cappino,” she says, pulling up a chair from the next table. “So…” She smiles brightly at
me as she seats herself. “… You’re a friend of Borje. You will be having a good time, won’t you…” She
looks one way, then the other, as though staging a performance. “So… where’s Daniel?”
Borje stiffens. “Daniel''s not here…” He could be having teeth pulled. “I''ve not seen him for a while.”
“Really? Oh, thank you…” She epts cup and saucer from the waiter… “… but could I have
sweetener please, rather than sugar.” Turning her searchlight smile onto me, she pats her stomach.
“We do have to keep our figures trim, don’t we.”
Marcie sips at the coffee, then grimaces, setting it back on the saucer. “I’m surprised you say you
haven’t seen Daniel. The pair of you seemed inseparable once…” She waggles what passes for her
eyebrows, then rolls her eyes at me… “All the fun and games the two of you had together.”
Together?
Is Borje bi?
He kept that well hidden.
“Enough!” snaps Borje. “You’ve had your say, Marcie.”
“Oh, dear…” Her cheeks suck in: fake contrition. But her eyes glitter. “Have I let the cat out of the bag?
I do apologise.” She leans across the table, pats Borje’s hand. “Never mind, I’ll be on my way. Leave
you two lovebirds to enjoy your meal. I’ll hope I’ll see you around, Georgie. It’s always good to meet
one of Borje’s girlfriends. I’ve often wondered when he’d settle on one.”
The waiter arrives, setting a small paper packet by her coffee cup. “Your sweetener, Madam.”
“Thank you, but I won’t be needing it now.” Swinging the phoney smile back at Borje. “I’ll be off then.
See you soon, Borje, I hope.” Turning, she click-clicks away in her absurd heels.
Borje’s knuckles are white, his jaw clenched. “Georgie, that was… Was…” He seems to run out of
words.
“Who is she? An ex?”
He speaks through gritted teeth. “Marcie is not and has never been my partner.”
“It''s alright if she was. I know you must have had girlfriends before and I’m not going to…”
He grips my forearm, the fingers tight enough to hurt. “Georgie, I repeat. Marcie is not an old girlfriend.
I wouldn''t touch the woman with a long pole.” He seems embarrassed; coughs, looks away.
Damage limitation…
“Even if you''ve had lots of girlfriends,” I say, “I''m d she wasn''t one of them.” He still seems lost for
words, gnawing at his knuckles. “So, who is she?”
“Marcie is someone I know who enjoys making trouble for its own sake. She does it with everyone.”
“Yes, I can see that. So… who’s Daniel? A friend? You’ve never mentioned him. And what did she
mean? About fun and games? She made it sound as if… As if…” I can’t bring myself to say it.
“What?” He frowns. “As if what?”
“You’re… not gay, are you? Or bi?” It’s not so long ago I asked my father the same question. It feels
even more surreal asking this man.
He bursts outughing. It’s such an obviously genuine reaction that my doubts evaporate. “No,
Georgie. I’m neither gay nor bi. I’ve no problem with those who are, but I guarantee you, I’m firmly
heterosexual.” For a moment, he looks away, sucking at his teeth, then, “Yes, Daniel is a friend of mine.
We used to go out together. Marcie holds a grudge because neither of us was interested in her.”
“I can understand that.” Borje is flushed.
Is he trembling?
Ice my fingers into his. “Why don’t we take a walk around the harbour. We were having such a lovely
morning before she arrived.”
The tension ripples from him and he breathes deep. “You’re right, Georgie. I’m blowing it out of
proportion. Come on, finish your coffee. We’ll have that walk.” He raises a hand to the waiter, doing a
brief mime of scribbling something. The waiter nods and produces the check.
“Did you notice something else?”
He briefly scans the ticket. “What?”
“Marcie didn’t pay for her drink.”
“No, she didn’t.” He delves into a trouser pocket, producing a twenty. “If the price of a coffee is what it
takes to get rid of that harpy, I’m happy to pay it.”
*****