A Real Man in My Life Ch. 02

"You've got a date!?!" Gemma almost shouted, then remembered her darling younger brother was in the house, "you got a date..." she whispered, her face full of glee, "who with?" She picked up her tea and sipped it.

"He's a guy I knew back through the School Theatre Project, called Graham." I said, and added (as if it might make any difference at all) "he's the bass player."

"What's he like?" she grinned excitedly over her mug.

"He's very tall," I said, "Very muscular, very good looking," I couldn't hide my grin.

"Good for you!" she squealed.

"What's good for her," said Bradley appearing at the kitchen door.

"Mum's band practice is going really well, and she's got a couple of solo's."

"Ooooohkay," he breathed as if everything I did had to pass his strict code of moral ethics.

Gemma folded her arms, and surreptitiously pointed up the stairs, wagging three fingers.

I closed the dishwasher and went upstairs. Gemma had rapidly become a friend I could talk too. Since her father had moved out and the tension in the house had disappeared and she felt she didn't need to look after me anymore, we'd moved even closer.

I pushed open her bedroom door 3 minutes later and her stereo was already playing, I sat on her bed and she turned up the music just a tad louder moving the player between us and the door.

"So when is it?" she mouthed.

"Next Saturday week; when you're off with your Dad."

"Do you need a hand with your make-up or anything?" she beamed, "I've no problem not being at Dad's, Stephanie is really starting to piss me off; when will the bitch get it that I actually don't want her to be my friend?" Shauna had only lasted a few months as the sex became less interesting and she wanted more from him. Stephanie was the new girl he'd met through the internet and I thought looked a lot like me.

I chuckled. "No darling," I shook my head, "Thank you but, I've got it all sorted." What I really wanted was a few hours on my own where I could sort out my clothes, choose make-up, perhaps have my hair done, and then leave the house without any kind of innuendo from my children or interruptions from their father.

"Oh come on Mum, I don't mind... when was the last time you..." she mouthed the words 'went out on a date.'

I flashed ten fingers then five to indicate the last time I'd really made an effort.

"Then let me hel..." she stopped talking, and looked at her bedroom door, her shoulders sagging. She stood and stepped closer to the door talking slightly louder, "help you with the changes in your body for your age," she was speaking quite loudly, "it's perfectly normal for a woman's body to release the fluids it doesn't want anymore. The chemist can supply all of the things you could possibly need." I looked at her quizzically and she looked back, her face drawn into an expression of disgust. In a second she'd flipped her door open to show Bradley on one knee crouched at the crack of her door.

In a panicked realisation he made out he was doing something to his shoes, only to realise they were his trainers that were held closed with Velcro.

"GET AWAY FROM MY DOOR YOUR FUCKING PERV!" she screamed at him, "Mum he's bloody doing it again, creeping around like he's some kind of undercover fucking agent!"

"Bradley!" I shouted at him with some anger tinged with disappointment that had been brewing for some months, "your room NOW!"

He turned into his father, arms out outstretched and face pleading innocence. "What have I done?!" he whined, "I JUST happened to be knelt down by Gemma's damned door..." he pointed back over his shoulder at Gem's door just as his father would have done, "and now I'm getting the damned blame for EVERYTHING." He'd started to cultivate the use the term 'damned' as well and I hated its pretention, just like his dad.

I picked up his laptop, his tablet and his smartphone. "Don't lie to me Bradley," I said, "you sneak around like you're the secret police, and I know you report everything back to your father. It's like living in bloody Nazi Germany," I snarled under my breath.

"What you doing with my stuff?" he demanded, ignoring the fact I knew what he'd been up to.

"Confiscating it," I said, "when you've earned the right to have it back you can."

"They're from Dad," he said "you can't take them."

"Watch me."

"GIVE THEM BACK," he snarled, just like his father, and he tried to go face to face with me. I was a foot taller than him.

"No," I whispered into his face, "and if you're going to try and threaten me like your Dad used to, put on a few pounds or pay the fucking bills!" I slammed his bedroom door shut, almost in his face.

It was the first time I'd ever sworn at any of my children in that manner but Bradley had so had it coming.

That night Gem and I exchanged text messages about my night out and she said what I had been thinking, about clothes, hair, make-up and all those sorts of things. It was quite exciting for all that.

It was decided that I should wear my little black dress, with my matching heels. Gem also said that under that dress I'd look fantastic with my Wonderbra and that I absolutely had to wear the matching tiny string knickers that wouldn't show a line. I gasped in shock that she thought I'd need to wear underwear that matched. After I stopped blushing, I had to agree.

I was on tenterhooks for days, and made sure that I had everything ready for my date. I had several packs of contraceptive pills still in my bedside table. They were still in date, and did a quick google check and that assured me they'd still be effective. I'd buy some condoms just in case. Here I was making plans to sleep with a man I'd spoken to once in twenty years, but I felt really sexy and I played with all sorts of ideas for make-up, what to do with my hair; shit, I even started doing sit ups to make sure my belly looked flat enough in my dress!

I thought about all of the effort and it was obvious. Gray, the tall, muscular, kind, funny gentle man. He was the 'real man' that my subconscious had pined for, and he was interested in me as well. I knew that I was going to be 'all woman' for this 'real man'.

That was the longest fortnight in history and seemed to take a month for that equally long Saturday to arrive and when it finally did, it didn't seem to end. It was the second rehearsal and we'd all been in email discussion and the net had been hot with music, chords, lyrics and the occasional 'can we try...' followed with thirty or forty reasons why we should or shouldn't.

Gray was looking extremely hot in a fitted T-shirt and was playing his guitar just as well if not better that a fortnight ago. I smiled at him occasionally, trying hard not to telegraph to the rest of the band that we were going out that night and Gray, or Ray for that matter, didn't so much as mention it.

We played most of the songs on the list, stopping occasionally to check a note or a chord, or a modulation, whether we were singing the right verse in the right order. It was great; we jammed some more, improvised some stuff just for a laugh, happy that Tom would drag us back to some kind of order if it wasn't taking us where we wanted to go.

He bossed everyone around, except for his Katie of course. Today, we'd tried some Beatles songs, all of the classics including a version of Sergeant Pepper that we'd seen on 'YouTube' from 'Live8' a few years back. We paid more attention to Madness songs and the cry went up for Parker again. In his defence, he'd had the voice, the look and the moves, at least he always had done.

The room went quiet for a moment and people seemed to not be looking at me in a looking kind of way.

"Yeah but he's such a knob isn't he..." said Ray with a tone.

The tension was broken with much laughter and I could see everyone was desperate for me to say, "I'll ask him."

Tom, who had rapidly taken up the role of band leader as he had in the old days, smiled and said that we should get everything else down first then when we were ready we could call in the other soloists. Pressure removed.

"Let's give it a couple of weeks and I'll ask him," I said. No way was I laying that kind of task on myself while I was starting to get butterflies about my first date in years with the hot man not ten feet away from me.

We stopped for lunch, and I sat with Deedee and Elaine eating sandwiches and drinking from the large coffee percolator that Mark had nicked from the staff room again although this time, and I'm sure as some kind of private joke between him and Ray, Gray had bought some quite fantastic ground coffee for it.

The afternoon was equally fruitful and again just as we seemed to be getting into it for a second time, the caretaker was calling a halt to things. As I passed Gray on the way to the car park, he whispered "seven o'clock?"

I smiled and nodded, "See you then," I felt my cheeks burning and dashed away before any of our mates saw us together.

Once packed away, I stood with the same clutch of people as a fortnight before only this time, while I wouldn't have objected to another coffee, I wanted to get home and start the process of getting ready to go out for my first real date night in fifteen years. We all seemed to make our apologies for not going for a coffee and I dashed straight to the hairdressers and had my dark hair styled, (and a touch of colour on the few grey roots that stood out) and I even asked that they do my make-up seeing as I was early.

I looked good. Something the artist had done, made my lips look really pouty. They were full at the best of times so I asked the girl what her secret was just in case I smudged it. She smiled. "OK," she grinned, "looking like you're looking, it's going to get smudged." She showed me the secret that was actually done with two different shades of lipstick. I promised I'd try, but only if he let me.

I got home still with an hour to spare and put on my undies, pulling on my towelling robe as there was another forty five minutes until Gray would arrive.

Gray appeared at my door at two minutes before seven in an extremely sharp looking suit and I was so pleased that I'd made a similar effort. I opened the front door and he stepped back and looked me up and down. "Wow Nats!"

"Not looking so bad yourself Gray," I stroked a hand down his arm in delight and felt the hard muscle flex beneath the excellent cloth. It did little to settle the butterflies I'd had in my stomach since the Friday night before.

He took my hand and walked me down my drive to a low slung dark green sports car, and 'Top Gear' viewer that I was even I knew it was an Aston Martin. He held the passenger door open and I slid in onto the leather seats, seeing the luxury of thing, my car was nice but this! Jeez it was posh!

"Weekday car," he said with a grin, noticing how impressed I was at the walnut interior and the polished leather, "The Disco is for weekends and playing around."

"I've got an 'all week' car Gray," I said looking around me in appreciation, then adopted an over-blown 'I don't care' attitude I'd seen in Parker so often, "not that different from mine," I said, "four wheels, engine; virtually the same." Gray laughed and flipped the flappy paddle gears (Thanks again Top Gear!) up one and the engine purred, "mind you, it doesn't sound like that though."

"I'll let you have a go one day," said Gray.

"Yeah whatever..." I said, then couldn't keep up the pretext any longer and giggled. I sat back a bit and nervously pulled down the hem of my skirt that had risen exposing almost all of my thighs. Gray looked down, and I hoped he was impressed with the view.

We drove out of town and into the country, and we stopped at a great hotel I'd been driving past for many years.

The Hermitage was a five star restaurant with a hotel attached. I'd seen TV documentaries filmed here but I never done anything more than stop in the car park once -- just to look of course.

"Wow Gray!" I said, "this looks lovely, are you sure?"

"Oh yeah," he looked sideways at me, "we're only parking here, then getting the bus to Burger King, don't be impressed."

I laughed, but I desperately hoped that we weren't!

He stepped around and took my hand as I made to get out of his car, remembering to put both legs out so I didn't make a display of panties as I stood. He kept hold of my hand as we climbed the white stone staircase, with me taking in the grandeur of this former country seat now a high class restaurant.

"Bus stop is just through here," he said smiling at me. His teeth looked fantastic and his blue eyes glinted. He spoke to the Maitre'D.

"Woods, table for two."

Awwwww!

"Oh yes Mr Woods, how nice to see you again, I trust you are still well. How is your..." the Maitre thought hard then came to the answer, "Your brother, still well I trust?"

"Extremely well, thank you." He beamed, the same way he always did when anyone talked about his brother.

We were shown to a table in the bay window with a view out over the park and the lake in the background. At the tree line of the woods I could just see the occasional deer popping out onto the grass and shooting back in again. It was enchanting, and I pointed them out to Gray.

"Do you like them Nats," he said, "because I happen to know they serve a fantastic venison here."

I lashed out at him with a giggle, and he quickly disappeared behind a huge menu. The waiter saw me staring wide-eyed at the amazing choice, and offered some more detail on the variety of food on offer that evening. He was trying to help but all of the wonderful things just made my mouth water.

I have to admit, and with some devilment and making eyes at Gray I asked for the venison -- baked in hay with roasted vegetables with the most fantastic gravy; it was to die for. Before that I had about three different starters and appetisers, wine, all of which was finished by the most wonderful sweet yet tart layered meringue with tonnes of whipped cream, fresh fruits and a sweet, sharp lime sauce.

I thought about the discussion Deedee, Elaine and I had two weeks before. "So come on Gray, truth time," I sipped some of the excellent wine to bolster my confidence, "Elaine reckons you had a crush on me, I reckon you had a crush on her. Who was right?" I giggled, "I bet it was Deedee wasn't it!?"

Gray smiled, then turned his smiling face to me, "Always you Nats," he said, "always you. I was terrified of Diane, still am a bit!"

I laughed at his quip about Deedee, but was still pleasantly surprised, "Oh come on Gray, the gorgeous blonde Elaine, and you fancied me?"

"Oh yes," he said leaning slightly forward, "Don't get me wrong, Elaine was... no IS gorgeous but... I've never been out with a blonde you see, not once. Always brunettes," he grinned at me again and looked down thoughtfully for a moment breaking eye contact, "only brunettes, I think it was because the only Disney videos we had at home were 'Snow White' and 'Beauty and the Beast'. You were really nice and friendly, and I never had the nerve to ask you out, you were way too attractive to go out with a thug like me. And my mum would have been bloody awful about me going out with a girl and spending money when I could have been out earning it."

As we sat watching the last rays of the sun go down, we sipped our coffee. "What do you really do, Ray said something about coffee?" I sipped some of mine.

"Private joke," he said, "Ray is a good friend of my brother Terry and it's a joke they share."

"I don't think I ever met him," I said, "was he at your school?"

"No," he said, "he has cerebral palsy; mum never let him out of the house. Ray was one of the few kids Mum let in because we'd known him and his family since I was born." He sipped his coffee, "well he still visits him at his place. He jokes with Terry that I'm a Barista."

"And?"

"I'm a not a 'barista'" he grinned, "it's just how my brother pronounces it, actually I'm a barrister..."

I gulped in surprise, and put my coffee cup down with an embarrassed clatter. "Oh..." I said, "I thought..." he grinned that wonderful smile at me, "but Gray, this body, you look like a cross between a movie star and a Rugby player!"

"OK," he said flexing his bicep under his suit, "I'm a barrister that works out occasionally," He indicated the waiter, "some more coffee please," he said, "OK Natalie, what point in my life do you remember up to?"

It was basically when we had all left school, through college and started work, in our late teens and going out on a Friday and Saturday. We met lots of familiar faces of course and kind of hung out in the same pubs and clubs and rather than being with us drinking and partying Gray would be on the pub doors, working behind bars, once even driving a taxi. Parker's estate agency had used the security company he worked for to remove squatters and defaulted tenants during the week and for all we knew, especially through Parker's rather lengthy diatribes, he had left school with no qualifications and was now basically a paid thug. Graham took over the story.

His brother Terry was severely disabled from birth with cerebral palsy and his father had walked away from him, his rather emotional wife and his family responsibilities. His Mum Mavis had taken it very badly and decided that as his father's son Graham must be at fault as well and had to become a carer too - as soon as he was able to understand whatever command his permanently angry mother threw in his direction. He admitted he could change his brother's nappies by his fourth birthday.

He went to school because the law said he had to, or looked after his brother -- that was it, nothing else; he could do homework if it fitted around his care for Terry, he could go on school trips so long as it wasn't overnight. He couldn't go out with friends, he certainly couldn't bring them back to his house, so no cinema trips, evenings out, hanging out with mates and of course no girlfriends; nothing. She would shout at Gray and berate him if he ever slipped into the parlance of the estate he lived on, demanding the Queen's English from him. Fortunately by the time he hit puberty in Year 9 he was too big to be bullied by his neighbours and school friends for sounding posh and 'up himself' at school or in the shops. After all, those were the only places he was allowed to go.

They were given an old video player by a friend of the family as something for Terry to watch and Gray used to borrow films to watch from the library or from his mates so his knowledge of movies was always two or three years behind that of his cinema going friends.

He played in his school band of course which then fed into the theatre company; Mum was never able to put a stop to it despite her best efforts and it was down to a special official looking letter that Miss White had written for him but for some reason never kept a file copy.

He was an excellent musician but once the company took off after the Tri-centenary his Mum began to complain about the time away from his 'family responsibilities'. Once Gray told Miss White he was going to have to leave, she stepped in and wrote a letter on Council headed paper explaining in very general but forceful 'looking' words.

Mum bitched but the last thing she wanted was busybodies coming around and interfering with her house, her kids and her life so Gray's place in the Boyz, and the company, was safe for the time being.

Miss White found him a guitar that he could borrow on a more regular basis and he took it home to practice. Always quietly, always when he should have been sleeping. He said it was the only thing that stopped him leaving home -- that and his brother of course.

He left school with hardly any qualifications -- he was honest enough to blame this as much on the band as having to look after his brother at home -- so had to get whatever work his physical attributes would allow over what his educational ones did. Going into further education wasn't an option. His Mum said she wasn't having him wasting more time trying to get qualifications he was too stupid for, and he had left school -- that was it, out to work for as much as he could earn, not that would be much seeing as he was so stupid.