The Architect Read online

  We go on to natter for the best part of three hours, until I finally throw in the towel and take myself off to bed.

  Spread out like a starfish in my lonely bed, I struggle to get to sleep as my conversation with Sally has opened up Pandora’s Box. The memories of my childhood and my father’s suicide all come screaming back to me at once. Visions of my stepmother telling me to leave, and images of my dad’s dead body all inhabit my mind, until Heath and his presence takes over. His face breaks through like the sun on a dark cloudy day and banishes the unwanted thoughts as I slowly drift off to sleep, speculating on the experiences yet to come.

  Chapter Nine

  Tuesdays at work are the best days. The surgery shuts for a half day and I usually go and browse the shops; but not today. Today I am on a mission to find a proposal for Friday’s night out.

  After spending most of the day sneakily disinfecting things that sick people have touched, my shift ends, and I make my way home listening to eighties tunes and daydreaming about Heath.

  Stepping inside, I hear the post shuffle along the wooden floor as I push open my front door. Looking down to examine whether it’s bills or junk, I’m intrigued when I notice a black envelope. Picking it up and examining it, the front just has ‘Ruth Watson’ written on it very neatly in silver ink.

  Studying it with a puzzled face, I notice that there isn’t a stamp, which makes me nervous. Shutting the front door and heading down the hall, my nose suddenly sends signals to my head, telling me I can smell Heath. Lifting the curious post to my nose, I take a good sniff. The musky scent fills my head and I sigh as I take a seat at my desert island. It’s from Heath, it has to be. Why else would his fragrance be all over it?

  I carefully unbind the sticky seal and pull out a piece of black card.

  Ruth,

  I request your company for a night of kink and fun.

  The Place: Fantasia, Clover Road.

  The Time: 9pm

  The Attire: Something sexy.

  RSVP to my number, and don’t take too long about it, because I miss you.

  H x

  A thousand emotions rush through me all at once. Anger; how the hell does he know my address? Lust; he misses me. Apprehension; will we have sex at this club? Will we try The Dungeons and the Let Loose room? Curiosity; when did he post this? And how did we both come to be looking at this particular club?

  I inhale the aftershave he must have sprayed on the card, and close my eyes as the aroma picks out memories of our times together.

  I send him a text.

  I received your invitation, thank you. When were you at my house and how did you know my address? X

  His reply comes through within minutes.

  Good. And what is your answer to my invite? H x

  I consider my response.

  I shall repeat. When were you at my house and how did you know my address? X

  I posted it on my lunch break, and I watched you walk home the night I dropped you on the corner :/ H x

  He watched me walk home. Why? That’s quite sexy, but at the same time kind of freaky that he spied on me.

  Why did you do that? X

  His response this time is slower.

  I wanted to make sure you got in all right. It was late and there was a group of boys across the road falling about drunk. What can I say? I’m a gentleman. Out of the bedroom at least ;) H x

  I smile, but don’t recall seeing anyone about that night, and to be honest, I can’t even remember getting into bed, so I wouldn’t have noticed if there was a circus rolling down the street, let alone a group of people.

  I thank him for watching me home safe.

  You’re welcome. Now, you bad girl, I want an answer to my request by the end of Thursday. Okay? H x

  I text back.

  You will have a reply by then. X

  Good, now go and be a bad girl, so you’ve got lots to tell me about on Friday ;) H x

  I was going to reply with a yes, but I think I’ll make him wait until late Thursday now, or maybe even Friday.

  Retrieving my laptop from the front room, I search the club again. I immediately remember the ‘Fetish Fridays,’ and check the calendar to see if this Friday is one.

  It’s not, and I’m half relieved because I know nothing about this stuff, and half disappointed because I’m curious to see what goes on. I then look for the dress code, eventually finding it under the FAQs. The dress code is smart casual unless it’s a fetish night, where rubber, latex, and nudity are accepted.

  I’m stunned as I read this. Nudity, really? I’m so glad it’s not a fetish night. There’s no way in hell I’m stripping down to my birthday suit in front of a load of strangers, or even worse, people who aren’t strangers.

  Reading through all the questions and answers, the conclusion is, you don’t have to get naked, you don’t have to have sex, you mustn’t pester people, and pictures are prohibited. It sounds like fun, but I am twisting inside at the thought of actually going to a place like this and seeing it all around me.

  Before I know it, it’s dinner time and I’m satisfying my rumbling stomach with yesterday’s leftover lasagne and a handful of mixed salad. Moseying back to my computer with plate in hand I position myself comfortably. Taking a fork mixed with pasta and leaves in one hand, I use the other to scroll down the homepage of the club to check I haven’t missed any vital links or information.

  There’s one I missed. ‘Membership’. Are they serious? They want my full name, mobile number, address, email, and age. Starting to feel uneasy and less comfortable with this venue, I fix upon questioning Liz about it tomorrow as I shut the laptop down and finish off most of my dinner before settling down for the night with a book.

  ***

  Sitting at work, I’m wishing for lunch time to hurry along so I can chat to Liz in private. I can’t concentrate on the elderly man standing at the desk asking for his prescription, as my mind is in all sorts of wonderfully disgusting places. I finally manage to find his medicine on paper through the filth of my thoughts and hand it to him, to which he replies, “Take your time, why don’t ya?”

  My eyes widen, and I want to tell him to not be so rude, but instead I smile and help the next patient.

  Lunch time comes, and like a kid waiting for playtime, I run to the staff room to catch Liz before she heads out for her one o’clock smoke.

  “Jesus Christ, woman, you nearly knocked my teeth out,” she yells as I breeze through the door.

  “Sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you went for a cigarette.”

  She stands there with her mug in one hand and her cancer sticks in the other, waiting for me to say something. I poke my head out of the doorway to check none of the doctors or nurses are coming to make a drink. The coast is clear, so I come right out and say it. “Have you ever heard or ever been to Fantasia? The kinky club in town?”

  She grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Of course I have. You don’t think a dirty dog like me hasn’t tried such a place, do you?”

  Is she actually asking me that? I avoid answering, and instead fire off more questions. “What’s it like? I mean, is it respectable?”

  She gives me an odd look. “Most people would say it wasn’t, but that’s only because they’re prudes.” She slurps her brew. “Why do you ask?”

  I lean against the doorframe and keep a look out. “I’ve been asked to go there this weekend.”

  “By the dish you met last week?”

  “Shh!” I frown. “Yes, with the dish I met last week.”

  She lowers her volume. “Wow, a hunk with a dark side. You are a lucky girl.”

  I tilt my head to the side and narrow my eyes. “Seriously, Liz, is it a seedy party for horny old men?”

  She laughs. “No, it’s nothing like that. The place is
much respected in the swinging community, and the staff are very friendly and safety conscious.”

  I scrunch my nose.

  “Don’t worry about it. Just go and have some fun, even if all you do is dance the night away.”

  “What about the membership? Why do they need to know so much about you?” I ask before it slips my mind.

  “I’m not sure why they need all that stuff. It’s probably another security measure, but I’ve never had mail or phone calls from them, so I wouldn’t worry about being bombarded with offers and stuff.”

  I pull another face and let her go for her fix of nicotine while I make myself a coffee to take back to the desk.

  She comes back to take her seat, stinking of stale smoke, and swivels to face me. “So, are you going?”

  I shrug as I place my mug down. “I’m not sure.”

  “Is it the idea of the club itself, or are you worried about giving your personal information out?”

  “It’s a bit of both, really. I definitely don’t like the idea of giving my address and stuff out and-”

  “Then make one up.”

  That’s not a bad idea, I never thought of that. I nod at her suggestion and turn back to my computer.

  Liz says no more on the subject, and I don’t hear a peep from Heath until he and Liz simultaneously ask me if I’m going to go/come to the club. I tell Liz I’m still not a hundred per cent sure, and I text Heath back.

  Can I be honest with you? X

  You know you can. H x

  I’m quite nervous about this whole thing. What is it exactly you want to do? X

  Liz pipes up. “Are you texting him now?”

  “Yes.”

  She wiggles her eyebrows. “And are you accepting his offer?”

  “I think I will. I just want clarification that he doesn’t want to get into a swingathon,” I joke.

  My phone buzzes on my lap.

  I’m nervous too, but I thought you would like it since you suggested a kinky night ;) And I thought we could just go as voyeurs and see what it’s all about. H x

  I smile at the thought of him being nervous.

  Oh good, I was just a tad worried you might want to get involved, but being a peeping tom sounds good to me. X

  “Ruth?” It’s one of the doctors. What does he want? They never call me down the corridor. Oh crap, what if he’s seen me on my mobile? Rummaging in the desk drawer, I hide my phone under some paperwork and go to get my arse chewed.

  Turns out he just wants me to help him with one of the system updates for his computer, thank God.

  Back in my chair, I reach for my phone. Four new messages, all from Heath.

  So that’s an acceptance? H x

  I can’t wait to see you again, you know. H x

  I’ll meet you inside around 9pm then? H x

  And I’ll be the guy in the black suit with a wide grin ;) H x

  Dropping my phone into my bag, as paranoia about getting caught sets in, I assume he has taken my last text as a yes, and wait to answer when I have finished the daily grind.

  The day drags, but finally home time arrives. I hurriedly make my way to my little KA to respond to Heath.

  I can’t wait to see you either. See you at 9 on Friday then. X

  ***

  After dinner I rifle through my closet for something to wear for my date. I don’t want to wear something too racy, but at the same time I don’t want to be too conservative. Pulling out a little black number, which by rights should be covered in cobwebs because I haven’t worn it in years, I try it on and it still fits nicely. It comes just above the knee, and is tight fitting, allowing my curves to softly make the hourglass figure.

  After slipping out of my ancient man catcher, I take a shower and then jump into bed. Laying here stretched out on my double divan, I stare into the darkness, thinking about Friday night. My belly knots at the thought of walking in alone, and giving the club all my personal information.

  Thinking back to what Liz said, and after a long debate with myself, I decide to give the club my real name, but not my real address. It won’t be a complete lie; I’m just going to change the number, and who’s ever going to find out?

  Chapter Ten

  Friday finally arrives and I’ve been up since six, pacing the kitchen and talking myself into, and out of, tonight. It’s like I have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, whispering in my ears. The me in red is saying, go for it, get drunk, have fun, fuck him in front of everyone and hang him out to dry. And the me in white is telling me not to degrade myself with such smut, you’re a lady, and ladies don’t do things like this, think of what people will think if they ever found out.

  As I drive to work, I’m stuck in the middle of an argument as the desperate horny woman on my right fights with the modest prim and proper woman on my left. I shake them both away as I pull into my usual parking space and walk into the surgery to go about my daily duties.

  As I chat to Liz about my date this evening she demands that I wear a red dress and put my hair up.

  I frown. “Why?”

  “Just trust me. Ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” She winks.

  “Come on, tell me why.”

  “I can’t tell you why, but you will thank me for it tomorrow.”

  Hmm. If she’s not going to tell me why, I’m sticking with my black number. God only knows why she would tell me to wear something specific. It’s probably a twist on the red hat no knickers saying, and red dress means no panties, and hey guys come and get me. Yes, I think I’ll stick with my choice. I know she’s more my friend than my colleague these days, but I wouldn’t put it past her to pull a prank like that just to see my face tomorrow morning.

  I say no more on the strange request and watch the minute hand slowly count away the hours to the end of my working day.

  In the car park, Liz reminds me again of the red dress, and tells me I’ll love it and to have fun.

  I nod to her suggestion of clothing and bid her a farewell until tomorrow.

  ***

  Making myself a light dinner so I don’t bloat and have to squeeze into my dress, I prepare a nice mixed salad with grilled chicken, and cover the whole lot in a nice helping of my favourite brand of creamy Italian dressing. After devouring the entire lot, I pour myself a glass of red and head to the en-suite to shower and prepare for the sexy yet terrifying night ahead.

  Now scrubbed from head to foot and blow-drying my hair, I see my phone flashing at me from the bed. It’s a message from Heath, expressing his excitement about tonight, and asking me how I am getting to the club. I remind him that I’m apprehensive about our date, and tell him I’ll be journeying by taxi before chucking my phone back on the bed and finishing the dehydration of my hair.

  After brushing the knots out once more, I apply some makeup. Smoothing on a good layer of ivory foundation, I pat it into place with a brand matching powder before starting on my eyes. Drawing on my black liquid eyeliner, I give myself a thicker line than usual and go over it a couple of times to ensure it will stay on throughout the night. Then I line my eyes with a black pencil, before carefully coating my lashes with a good amount of mascara. Checking my handiwork in the mirror, I notice that my bright blue eyes are even more noticeable against the noir cosmetics, and happy with the effect, proceed to get dressed.

  Pulling my dress on from the bottom, so as not to ruin my hair or makeup, I wriggle it into place, then check my appearance in the mirror again. I look a bit too tarty for my liking, so I grab a long-sleeved black shrug and put it on over the dress. Then, collecting my clutch, phone, and shoes, I read Heath’s latest text as I pad barefoot down the wooden stairs.

  Don’t be worried, darling, I’ll be there to hold your hand (amongst other things ;) ) and if at any time you want to l
eave, just say the word and we will. H x

  I pause at the bottom of the staircase, and my heart flutters at his kind and naughty words. My reply is short and sweet.

  Thank you. I’ll see you soon. X

  I call for a taxi as I stand at my lounge window.

  A friendly female voice answers. “LD Taxis, how can I help?”

  “Hi, I’d like to book a taxi for eight-thirty, please.”

  “What’s the name and address?” she inquires.

  “It’s Ruth, and the address is 22 Millennium Road.”

  “And where is it you’re going?”

  Not wanting to tell her the name of the club in case she knows of it, I fluster as I try to remember the street name, “Umm... Clover Road.”

  Her tone doesn’t change. “Okay, that’s all booked for you.”

  I promptly thank her and hang up. Then I remember the glass of red I left upstairs. Retrieving it, I consume what’s left.

  My taxi arrives right on time. The driver honks the horn, hurrying me along.

  Once in the back of the vehicle, my legs start to shake, and my stomach begins to somersault. Why am I doing this? I’ve never done anything like this before. The kinkiest place I’ve ever been to is Ann Summers, and some of that shocked the hell out of me.

  I don’t know what’s happening to me. Since meeting Heath I feel as though I am finally living. Finally coming to terms with the loss of my father, and finally becoming a woman and experiencing life. Heath has stirred emotions and feelings inside me I never knew I had. It’s as though he has awakened me to what life can be, and the fun you can have.

  The taxi stops at the side of the unknown road and I pay the driver. Am I here? I don’t see it. I don’t ask the driver where it is, I’m not brave enough. Instead, I step out and inspect the street as the cab moves away sharpish for his next fare.