Payback Ch. 03

In 2012 our combined income was only something like sixty-five thousand, and that was before tax, not after it. We'd just bought our second house and after paying tax and housing expenses, our weekly income was just under seven hundred dollars.

Raf and Beau were both paying board, but in Beau's case it was extremely nominal and in Raf's, it only just covered the cost of him living with us. Both Angus and I agreed that to take more from him would be unethical, even though Raf offered, because he was always helping friend and family who couldn't afford to hire a plumber or carpenter to undertake small but necessary repairs. Raf would tell people that door frames, lumber, tiles, whatever it was they needed he had 'from a leftover job' but the truth was, he was spending his own money on the materials.

Angus was working full time and I was working twenty hours a week as a permanent part-time employee, but I had no real ability to pick up extra hours. Mum had been diagnosed with breast cancer and was undergoing treatment, and Auntie Rose had an assortment of medical issues, none of which were thankfully serious, but which required regular attention from Doctors and specialists. As well as working, I ferried Mum and my mother-in-law around, helped them with their chores, and took care of my own house.

'Angus, I'd go away with you tomorrow, but we can't afford a holiday,' I said, snuggling into him as we laid in bed together. 'Besides, your Mum and mine have both booked appointments based on when I'd be available.'

'They can change them.'

'No, no, they can't,' I argued. 'It doesn't happen like that.'

Angus sighed tiredly and pulled me into a tight hug. 'I'm sorry,' he said, miserable. 'I always thought I'd be able to give you a better life than this. I love you so much, Hez. I love you more and more each day.'

I wriggled out of his grasp and rolled onto his stomach. I traced the contours of his face, something I always did when I felt especially loving towards him. In my eyes, he was the most handsome man in the world. Yes, he really was too fat these days, but I loved his thick, greying, curly hair, his dark eyes and his lovely brown skin. I leant forward and kissed his prickly cheek. 'You've given me an awesome life. I love you. We'll go on holidays another time.'

He muttered the word 'delusional' under his breath, so I kissed him again. He tried to shake his head at me, but I laughed at him, and he couldn't help but smile.

'I love your smile,' I whispered. 'I love you. Take your pants off.'

'If I said 'I love you, take your pants off', you'd hit me,' he said, attempting to sulk.

'Well, if that's how you feel, leave them on,' I replied, rolling over and pulling the blanket over myself. 'Good night.'

'No!' He yanked the blanket down off me. 'I wasn't saying I was upset. I was just saying that I'd get a different reaction.'

I laughed at him again, but my mirth died away as Angus sucked and kissed the skin on my neck. It was a surefire way to get me going, and I was soon hurriedly discarding my clothing, and pulling his away from his body.

We were a tangled mass of limbs. Angus was kissing and nuzzling my breasts, and I was grabbing and pulling at him, my hands over his back and bum.

Angus slipped lower and lower, kissing my belly and thighs. He nestled himself between my legs and spread my pussy lips, before starting to orally service me. I enjoyed the sensation of his firm, slick tongue pressing against my clit, and I knotted my hands in his hair and drew him closer.

He knew what he was doing these days. He knew precisely what he was doing, and I stared at the ceiling, letting him do what he wanted. He shifted position slightly, and suddenly 'great' turned into 'fabulous' and I knew that if he continued, I'd orgasm.

'Angus, I'm going to come,' I mewled.

He didn't stop. My orgasm crashed over me and I clutched his head between my thighs, holding a pillow over my face to muffle the cries I wasn't able to hold back.

When I was quite done, Angus grinned, tossed the pillow I'd bitten over the side of the bed, and reminded me that neither of the boys were at home tonight and I hadn't needed to be quiet.

'I forgot about that,' I admitted.

'I didn't,' he said, wiping his face.

He was significantly happier than he had been ten minutes ago, but I expect having an erection and giving your partner an orgasm will do that to a man.

I eyed him with the cosy, loved-up gratitude of a woman who's been serviced, and asked what he might want in return for the spectacular cunnilingus he'd given me. Angus always knew what he wanted out of sex, so it was far more effective to ask outright than for me to try and guess what he might want.

'Can you get some oil and get on your knees on the floor?' he asked.

'Sure,' I agreed.

We hopped out of bed and I got the oil from my bedside drawer. Angus grabbed me and pulled me into a hug, and we kissed for a while, until I was eager to get things moving along.

I dropped to my knees and sucked and stroked his cock until he was fully erect. He'd been having issues getting and staying hard for a year or so by that stage, but he refused to see a doctor about it. He refused to see a GP full stop, claiming he was in perfect health, even though he was a hundred and twenty kilos and often had indigestion and chest pains. I was terrified he was going to die, but he just brushed away my concerns as if they were irrelevant. He was fine, he said. Big, yeah, but healthy, too.

I coated his prick so that it was slick with oil, then rubbed a good amount into my breasts. With a boob in each hand, I encased his erection with my tits and began to rock back and forth. We continued doing this, the head of his cock occasionally bumping against my sternum when he got too enthusiastic, until he pulled away and started wanking himself.

He came over my face and breasts. He was loud, guttural, free from the constraints of having children in the house, and enjoying his orgasm.

Afterwards, he helped me clean up with a handful of tissues and we turned the light off and prepared to go to sleep.

'I love you,' I whispered.

'I... fucking heartburn,' Angus mumbled. 'I love you, too.'

He sat up in bed, obviously uncomfortable.

'I'll get you some Gaviscon,' I said. 'Wait here.'

I slipped out of bed and padded to the kitchen buck naked. The lights were on, and I cursed myself for forgetting to turn them off earlier as I grabbed a measuring cup and hunted through the medicine cabinet. God knows why we stored our medication in the kitchen. Normal people apparently stored it in the bathroom, but for us, it had always gone in the cupboard above the microwave.

The Gaviscon lid was encrusted with congealed antacid, and I ran the hot water tap and held the bottle under it to trip and loosen the cap. After a minute of two, I flicked the water off, grabbed a towel, and gently eased the bottle open.

I was concentrating on pouring the specified amount into the medicine cup when I heard footsteps.

'Hang on,' I said. 'Almost done.'

'Helen.'

The voice didn't belong to Angus. It belonged to Raf. I panicked, dropping the Gaviscon bottle. I stepped back and crashed into the fridge while trying to cover my chest.

'Oh my God, what are you doing here?' I yelped. 'I thought you were staying at a mate's house.'

Raf came up over so that he was just twenty or thirty centimes away from me. He picked up the antacid bottle and reached for the cap as casual as could be. He was in jeans and a good tee, and even over the minty scent of Gavison I could smell alcohol on him. He was far from a boy. Twenty years old and every inch a man.

'He picked up,' Raf explained, his voice slightly slurred. He was drunker than I'd thought. 'I was a third wheel.'

He reached for the paper towels, pausing to give my body a full, considered inspection, before he grabbed a handful of them.

The expression on his face... lust. There was no mistaking it; Angus often looked at me the same way. And Raf was still looking, drinking it all in, rather than mopping up the Gaviscon.

I jolted from my stupor, darted forward and grabbed the medicine cup. 'I'm sorry,' I muttered. 'I... sorry. I didn't really you were home.'

He laughed. He wasn't offended.

'Helen,' he said, bemused. 'This is how most of my fantasies begin.'

And there it was, indefatigable proof that he wanted to fuck me. Proof that he'd thought about me, desired me, and wanted me. I knew that if I wanted it, he'd take me to his room. He'd... what? Wat would he do? Kiss me? Ask me to suck his cock?

Why in fuck's name was I even thinking about this?

I raced to the bedroom, pausing only to glance over my shoulder to gauge his reaction. He was staring at me, his dark, dark eyes drinking in my nude form. Intensely humiliated, I made my way to the bedroom in record speed and shut the door behind me.

Angus was hurriedly pulling on shorts. 'I heard you speaking to someone,' he stated. 'What's going on?'

I nodded. 'Raf. He's home. He, uh... oh God.'

'He saw you naked.'

I nodded.

'Helen?' Angus demanded. 'Did he say 'sorry'?'

'No, of course not. He had nothing to be sorry for. He wasn't to know,' I blurted. 'I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't hear him. I didn't even consider he might be at home. It was my fault. God. Fuck. Thank God it wasn't Beau.'

'Thank God it wasn't Beau?' Angus repeated. 'Why do you say that?'

I couldn't answer that question. I stared at my husband helplessly and shrugged. 'I don't know,' I offered limply.

My answer both terrified and infuriated him.

'Helen,' Angus said, anger pricking his voice. 'I know there's been rumours. I've heard them and then some. But I've always defended you. Always. So tell me right now, have you and Raf ever been lovers?'

'No! God no! Oh fuck, Angus, why would you think that?'

He headed to the door. 'Because of the way he looks at you. Because of the way you look at him. I don't want to know if you're attracted to him. Don't tell me if you are. I can't cope with a 'yes' answer, so let me live in ignorance. I just want to know there's nothing going on.'

'Angus... Oh my God. There's nothing going on.'

'You swear to me?'

'I swear to you,' I replied earnestly. I felt wretchedly guilt, but sad, too, because I loved Angus and no matter which man I occasionally lusted after, he was the only one I wanted to make love to. 'There is not, and never has been, any sexual relations between Raf and me.'

Angus nodded. 'Well,' he said. 'Thank-you. But I'm sure you appreciate why I need to go and speak to him.'

'Why? This wasn't his fault,' I argued pleadingly. 'Angus... just let it go. I doubt he'll ever mention it again.'

'I can't let it go, Hez. I can't deal with living with this. It's eating me up.'

I stayed in the bedroom while he went out. I pulled on a bra, underwear, jeans and shirt. Not bedtime clothes, but daytime clothes, though I couldn't tell you why I made that choice. I was scared. I had a terrible feeling something awful was going to happen.

Angus and Raf's conversation quickly escalated into an argument. Scared, I opened the bedroom door and skulked out, humiliated and yet unable to hide away while a conversation I knew would be life-changing was carrying on without me.

Both men's gazes shifted to me. Angus, my husband, light skinned and fat and confident in himself and Raf, tall and slim, dark and drunk.

'Helen, this conversation is men's business,' Angus ordered.

'No,' I argued. 'I want to know what you two are talking about.'

'Helen,' he warned.

I shook my head.

There are always points in a relationship where you infuriate your partner. Worse, though are the moments in which you disappoint them, and in the ensuing seconds I saw I'd not only enraged Angus, but disappointed him. I could see the hurt on his face.

I chanced a glance at Raf, and saw his lips curl in triumph. I'd made the fatal step of not supporting my husband and Raf knew it.

'Your husband wants me to move out,' Raf told me, staring directly at Angus.

Traditionally, avoiding direct eye contact was a sign of respect amongst many Aboriginal people and Raf, having spent the first few years' of his life in a traditional community, rarely looked anyone in the eye if he felt any sort of respect for them. Angus, having been raised in a largely white community made eye contact as a matter of course, but that didn't mean he was unaware of the implications of Raf's triumphant stare.

My regret struck me hard. What on earth had I just done?

When push came to shove, my loyalties lay with my husband, and even if they hadn't, Raf's smirk made me want to go over and shake him and tell him I'd raised him better than that, and he knew it. Who was he to smirk at my husband, when Angus had gone out of his way on numerous occasions to help the kid out? This was no way to repay him.

'Angus,' I said.

My husband turned to me.

'I'm sorry,' I apologised humbly. 'Whatever you want is fine. I'm sorry.'

And with those words, I condemned Raf to whatever discipline, whatever fate Angus chose to mete out. Both men understood.

Angus turned to Raf.

'You better be gone by lunchtime tomorrow,' he said. 'Twelve o'clock on the dot, and you better be out.'

~~~~~~~

2017

Ciaran returned to Perth. I found myself almost compulsively checking Symantha's Facebook page. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, she had it all. She probably had more, too, but I wasn't social media savvy, so I was limited to only three sites.

Why, I wondered, did she have to be so well kept? She was an attractive woman and she knew how to dress. Every day bought at least one post or picture, showing her dressed to the nines and posing seductively. I was bitterly jealous.

I longed for Ciaran to come home and spent a night with me, but he was no longer spending his first night in Brisbane in a hotel. Symantha had somehow figured out that he was having a ten day break, not a nine day one, and Ciaran miserably told me it had created an incredible argument between him and his parents. They wanted to know why he'd lied to them, and what he did on his first night in Brisbane. Symantha neatly chimed in with a suggestion that what their son 'did' was working girls, and even intimated I might be one such girl. Ciaran told me no one believed her, but the cruelty cut me to the core, and I had a long, secret crying session afterwards.

Not a day passed without a text, email or call from Ciaran. He told me he loved me, and I said the same back, but I was beginning to wonder if perhaps it was time for me to break things off. This horrid state of affairs couldn't continue indefinitely and one thing I'd learned about Symantha was that she wasn't someone who gave in easy. She wanted Ciaran back, and she was prepared to put up a fight. Worse, she was backed by Ciaran's parents, who adored her.

Saturday rolled around. Ciaran had been back in Brisbane three days, and we couldn't seem to find a convenient time to catch up with each other. Symantha's Facebook page a picture of her showed her 'furniture shopping with Ciaran <3' and her post had received dozens of comments asking if they were back together. 'Not yet hun' and 'hopefully' seemed to be the woman's stock standard replies.

I couldn't bear to keep reading, and Pearl was nagging at me for something to do. When Pearl said wanted to see Auntie Rose, I rang my ex mother-in-law and asked if we could drop around. Rose told us she was actually at the Hyperdome, a shopping mall quite local to us, with one of her daughters, and was tired from traipsing around the shops. If we could pick her up, she'd be very grateful.

We went to the Hyperdome and had a chat with my ex sister-in-law, before taking Rose home. As we pulled into my street I saw a familiar red Mustang pulling into my driveway, and my heart sunk. I didn't know what Ciaran would be doing here, but I didn't think it would be to give good news.

Auntie Rose inspected the car. 'That your whitefella?' she asked.

I grimaced. 'Kind of. I didn't realise he was planning on coming around.'

She appraised me thoughtfully. 'You want to take me back to the Hyperdome?'

I was about to reply 'no', when Pearl shouted 'Will's here! Ciaran's bought Will here, for me to play with!'

Rose, Pearl and I watched as Will shifted his seat forward to let Noah out of the back.

'He buys a car that only has two doors when he has kids,' Auntie Rose sniffed. 'That sort of stupidity reminds me of someone.'

I knew who she was talking about. Angus. The man who'd taken Beau to school on a motorcycle when it was pouring down rain when I was too sick to drive, because he didn't want to travel in a car. Angus had said something about our bodies being ninety percent water, so what did it matter if a bit fell on us from the sky? Beau had nodded his agreement and then turned up to school looking like a drowned rat. I know that for a fact, because the school rang me and requested I bring in some dry clothes.

'That's about the only thing they have in common,' I replied. 'Do you want to meet him? I'm not sure how much longer... but if you want to...'

'I want to meet him. Pearl's mother has been asking about him. I'm being asked questions. Might be best if I start being able to answer some of them.'

I didn't ask how the news I was seeing someone had spread, because I'd never get a straight answer. Instead, I got out of the car, waved to Ciaran and his boys, and went to unstrap Pearl.

'Do you want me to move my car so you can park in your garage?' Ciaran asked.

'No, no,' I replied. I gestured to Auntie Rose. 'This is Auntie Rose. She's Ang-... my ex-husband... husband's...mother,' I stumbled. 'Auntie Rose, this is Ciaran, Will and Noah.'

I'd tried to describe Ciaran to Rose, and Rose to Ciaran, but I'd obviously failed to hit the mark with my descriptions, because they both seemed surprised by each other.

'You have a nice car,' Auntie Rose remarked.

Ciaran beamed. 'Thanks. Helen doesn't really seem to care much about cars. Do you want to take it for a spin?'

'No, no,' Auntie Rose replied, amusement dancing in her eyes. She cast me a not-very-subtle, conspiratorial glance. 'Maybe another time.'

We went inside. The kids ran off, leaving the three of us adults, and neither Ciaran nor I knew what to do. Thankfully, Rose did, and she hustled us into the kitchen and asked if I had anything for afternoon tea. I didn't, of course, but I've never been either a baker nor a cook, and Rose decided to amend for my lack of kitchen skills by making chocolate chip biscuits.

'Are your kids allergic to anything?' Auntie Rose asked Ciaran.

'No, no, they eat everything,' he replied, watching her knead the dough. 'Do you need any help?'

'Tip a little more flour in the mixture please, love,' she requested. 'The mix is a little too wet. That's it. Thank-you.'

The kids came running back in, with Pearl leading the group.

'Helen, the boys want to go in the boat,' she said. 'Can we go?'

'You have a boat?' Ciaran asked, surprised. 'Where is it?'

'Back shed,' I replied.

'Oh, the boat,' Auntie Rose laughed. 'The boys bought that. Ask Helen how many times they got towed by other boats before the women bought them a new outboard motor.'

'Three,' I told Ciaran. 'One of the boys and my husband were working at the same motorcycle dealership when a customer traded a forty year old boat to buy his new ride. It was a heap of junk, but it was cheap... The boys were determined to have it, so they bought it for two thousand dollars. That should give you some indication of the quality. The engine used to randomly cut out and they kept trying to fix it. They'd take photos of themselves being towed by super-expensive boats, as though it was some triumph.'