Twisted Love and Money Page 11

  “I’ll be home at six,” she said.

  “Dorothy,” he hesitated, his face screwed up with anxiety.

  “Yes?”

  “Dorothy I have a lot of business appointments. I have to go out. I may be back late.”

  “How late?” Dorothy asked coldly.

  “Not too late,” Jeremy stammered.

  “Bold boys who are late get sore bottoms,” she remonstrated.

  “Yes Dorothy.”

  She smiled and handed him the riding crop and with a “Bye” she was gone.

  Chapter sixteen

  Alone in the apartment, Jeremy wandered from room to room. Bedroom, Diner, Kitchen, bathroom. In the bathroom mirror he looked at his marked behind. He smiled. His mother would hardly have done a better job.

  When he was washed and fresh he retrieved his clothes including his jeans from the drier. His notebook was intact, except for damp around the leather binding. He checked and found his wallet in his jacket.

  He rang George his architect. Now he was back in role as Jeremy the businessman, all brisk and efficient.

  “I checked out the people in the apartment development George,” he explained. “I like the look of them. If you are happy with the details I will go ahead.”

  “Good, good,” George was pleased.

  “I was supposed to call to see Paul, their architect this morning. Will you do it for me George? Also I was a bit drunk last night and rude to Paul. Frankly I am embarrassed.”

  “Not like you Jeremy. But don’t worry I’ll smooth it over. And I’ll tell them you are in on condition that I sign off that I am happy with the drawings.”

  “Thanks George. Get them to send me the contract, Banker’s references, the lot. I’ll sign up next week. And George?”

  “Yes Jeremy?”

  “We can squeeze that deal. I’ll give you one percent for every extra ten you get me. Do your thing and get me at least another ten percent of the equity.”

  “I’ll do my best,” George said, understanding now why Jeremy had cut his original commission. He was confident he could force a better deal.

  “I know I can rely on you,” Jeremy replied.

  “All right, but don’t forget you have to bring your David to see the Grafton Street store.”

  “I won’t. I have to collect him at the Airport.”

  Jeremy hung up, happy to have delegated to George. That left him free to deal with his David. When he thought of meeting David he began to tense up. Actions, actions, he thought. He got dressed. When he saw the state of his clothes he decided to buy a new outfit.

  Finally he tidied up the apartment and made the bed. He put the riding crop under Dorothy’s pillow. He got the spare door key and tried it for size. When he was sure it would work he left the apartment.

  It took Jeremy a moment to get his bearings when he reached the street. Then he began to walk towards the centre of town. On route he hailed a passing Taxi.

  “Grafton Street I have to get some stuff in Brown Thomas.”

  “Have to drop you near Grafton Street, it’s pedestrianised,” the Taxi-man explained.

  When Jeremy arrived, the reception area in the Airport Terminal was crowded. The London flight had just landed He was just in time. A stream of passenger came through the green channel from customs.

  Then he saw him.

  David was tall and thin with a flowing tan coloured raincoat across his shoulders. His casual clothes blended well in brown tans and leather. Jeremy first felt an empty fright in his stomach. Then his feelings jumbled up. He was delighted to see his partner and him looking so well. Anxious about how to handle himself Jeremy held back, watching David come through the throng.

  Jeremy was standing in an area where friends were greeting passengers effusively. David was pushing a trolley with two suitcases and concentrating on steering. He stopped and looked around. David spotted Jeremy. Jeremy smiled and stood a little straighter.

  “Jeremy darling, there you are,” David’s strong voice stopped a number of conversations and heads turned. Spreading his arms apart, David abandoned his trolley and walked confidently up to Jeremy.

  Jeremy was rooted to the spot with a wan smile on his face. David wrapped his arms around Jeremy and kissed his forehead. Then he stood back, holding Jeremy at arms length.

  “Jeremy, you look a little peaky. Not looking after one self when David is not here?”

  David has an educated upper crust English accent that carried. A number of people turned and looked in amusement.

  “David this is Ireland. You cannot carry on like this,” Jeremy hissed, very conscious that he was the centre of attention.

  “Why not darling?”

  “Come on,” Jeremy hissed, taking David’s elbow.

  Jeremy retrieved the suitcases and led David to the exit. David followed him, taking in the sights. All airports are much alike, but this was David’s first visit to Ireland and he was full of curiosity.

  As they emerged Jeremy led to the taxi rank and hailed a taxi.

  “Shelbourne Hotel,” he instructed.

  David was in fine form on the way into town. He prattled on unaware that the Irish taxi driver was drinking in every word and phrase. Gossip, friends in London. He prattled on in a camp upper class accent. Jeremy squirmed when he noticed the Taxi driver observing them in the mirror. He would have a fine story for the pub that evening, taking off the Englishman’s accent.

  Jeremy paid the Taxi driver off at the hotel and they took a case each.

  “Hope we have a nice room?” David remarked as he went into the lobby.

  “Rooms,” Jeremy replied.

  David stopped. “What?” it was beginning to dawn on him that all was not well with Jeremy.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, anger slipping into his tone.

  “In Ireland,” Jeremy hissed, his eyes moving around to see if he was to be overheard, “under Irish law, gay is illegal. We cannot be too blatant. Publicity and so on. Can’t have it. Not with the new Store opening, bad for business,”

  “Rubbish, it’s not illegal, can’t be.”

  “Sorry David, we run a big business and we are opening a new high profile store, we can’t afford a scandal.”

  “Rhubarb! We are moving into a suite. I have had enough nonsense Jeremy,” David said firmly and pressed on to the reception desk. Jeremy hung back, indecisive. In minutes David had it arranged with charm and grace.

  “Come,” he said crossly and led the way towards the lift.

  Jaw stiff with tension, Jeremy followed.

  In the lift David regarded him crossly, but said nothing. They let themselves into the suite. It had a kitchen, a living room and two bedrooms.

  “Looks respectable enough,” David said dryly and tipped the luggage porter as he departed.

  “My things…” Jeremy began.

  “All arranged. The housekeeper will transfer them from your room. Now come over here Jeremy.” David’s voice deepened in command and Jeremy put down the suitcase he was carrying. David put his arms around Jeremy and kissed him.

  “Nice to see you Jeremy. To see you nice,” David said softly with a smile.

  “David I have a problem. I cannot do this in Ireland,” Jeremy protested still tense in David’s arms.

  “Do what?”

  “Us.”

  “For Christ sake, come on Jeremy. I don’t complain as long as you are loving.”

  He grinned, “I have enough for both of us.”

  And then, with a gleam in his eye. “Do you want to lie down?”

  “No,” Jeremy spoke abruptly, just stopping himself from shouting. What if David saw the marks on his behind?

  “Come on, Jeremy. Give us a kiss sweetheart.”

  “David,” Jeremy protested, unable to suppress a smile at the expression on David’s face and his coaxing manner.

  “Please listen to me David.”

  “All right I am listening.” David said crossly, letting him go and standing hands on h
ips staring a Jeremy.

  Then he stood back from Jeremy and sat on the back of a couch, continuing to closely observe him. “Tell me?” David added in a more understanding tone.

  “This is Ireland,” Jeremy began, “where I trained to be a priest, where I have a catholic background, family.”

  “I thought I was family?” David said simply.

  “Yes you are family. That is not the point. The point is that in Ireland I do not want anything physical. Let us just be friends.”

  “Is there someone else? Have you met another man?” David asked anxiously.

  “Of course not David. You are the only man in my life.”

  David smiled, “Then kiss me.”

  Reluctantly Jeremy approached and kissed him gently on the lips. Tenderly David began to stroke his cheek.

  “I believe you Jeremy. You are a crazy mixed up kid. I do not really know how I am going to straighten you out.”

  “Don’t try,” Jeremy smiled.

  With a devil in his laugh David pulled Jeremy over the back of the couch. They fell and Jeremy rolled over onto the floor. As Jeremy tried to scramble to his feet David playfully, but with considerable strength, pulled on Jeremy’s pants. They came down to his knees together with his underpants to reveal his behind, covered with the marks of Dorothy’s riding crop.

  “Good God,” David exclaimed, shocked. “Jeremy, what have you been up to?”

  “Penance,” Jeremy said tugging to pull up his clothes, but David held them in a strong grip.

  “Jeremy,” David said letting go. His voice was choked and there was a tear in the corner of his eye.

  Jeremy saw his distress and began to cry.

  “Jeremy, Jeremy baby,” David crooned, holding Jeremy in his arms. “Jeremy you better tell me,” he added softly.

  Jeremy told David about Dorothy. He explained about drinking too much. His row with Dorothy and her taking the riding crop to him because he was useless and he deserved it.

  It all came out in a jumble. Jeremy was afraid to reveal all, and left out the fact that they’d had intercourse.

  “I’d like to meet that Dorothy. She sounds like a total bitch,” David said harshly.

  Jeremy felt warm and comfortable in David’s arms as they sat on the floor together.

  “I want to bring her to see my mother,” Jeremy said finally looking David straight in the eye for the first time.

  David was silent for a long time.

  “I understand,” he said finally. There was a deep sadness in his normally happy voice. Jeremy held on to him and began to stroke him. David began to undress the two of them and then he made love to Jeremy.

  Afterwards they had a bath together.

  “We have to go to see the new shop with George,” Jeremy explained and David nodded agreeably. His full humour was restored and he luxuriated as Jeremy soaped his back.

  “Also,” Jeremy continued, “ I am looking into a private investment in an apartment complex. Tax implications, George has put me on to it. Tax considerations involved and all that. You don’t need to worry about it David. I have to see an Accountant tonight. After we see the shop. Will you take George to dinner? I’ll see the accountant and then meet you later.”

  Jeremy was delighted when David was agreeable. With luck he would be able to be back in Dorothy’s flat early in the evening. And he had not exactly told a lie. After all Dorothy was an accountant.

  Chapter seventeen

  “I have run away from home,” Ann-Marie announced.

  Dorothy looked at her open mouthed. Then she stood back.

  “You had better come in.”

  Ann-Marie went into Dorothy’s apartment.

  “You have set the table for two,” Ann-Marie said as she came into the living room. “I’m sorry I must be intruding.”

  “Nonsense, sit down. I’m expecting Jeremy but he is not here yet.”

  Ann-Marie sat on the couch and wrung her hands.

  “I’m supposed to see Seamus. You know, the boy with the motorbike. I am supposed to see him outside Eason’s.”

  “And?”

  “And mommy said I can’t meet him anymore.” Ann-Marie wept, “She said he was not suitable,” Ann-Marie was sniffing and a tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Shut up Ann-Marie, you are always over-dramatizing. What did you say to mother?” Dorothy demanded. As far as she was concerned Ann-Marie was always spoiled and self-indulgent.

  Ann-Marie wiped a tear and looked at her sister with a hurt expression.

  “Sorry.” Dorothy relented, sitting down and taking Ann-Marie’s hand. “I’m no good when there are tears Ann-Marie.”

  Ann-Marie sniffed.

  “I told mommy that she was a drunken old bag. Well! She went for me.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “I shrieked and ran to Daddy. Then he…” Ann-Marie was tearful again, “then he backed her up. Said I was wasting my time on a motorbike freak. It’s not fair they don’t know him. How would they know? He’s lovely, he really is. He...”

  “I know, I know. Remember I met him. Do you really want to end up hitched to a biker?”

  “Who said anything about hitched? I’m much too young to marry.”

  “You have to think ahead, start as you intend to finish.”

  “He is gorgeous.”

  “I know. But are you being fair to him? He could fall for you and then you would drop him when you fancied someone else. Is that fair?”

  “No, I suppose,” Ann-Marie pouted, “ I only want to see him again. We really got on.”

  “When were you to see him?”

  “Tomorrow, outside Eason’s.”

  “Do mother and father know?”

  “Yes, I told them.”

  “And they said you were not to see him.”

  “Yes,” Ann-Marie said, in a tone that suggested the attitude of her parents was beyond normal comprehension.

  “Why not do as they say?”

  “I’d die.”

  “Ann-Marie, I have to ring Father.”

  “Don’t!”

  “If I don’t father may call the police. They will think you have disappeared. They could even get your biker thrown in jail.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “I don’t know. Father is rich. He may allege kidnapping or something. Or at worst he could use his influence to get Seamus fired.”

  “I am going to see Seamus again.”

  “O.K., but at least let me ring mother and tell her that you are here. That way at least they can stop worrying about where you are.”

  Ann-Marie sniffed again, but did not protest.

  Dorothy went into the kitchen and dialled home.

  “Hello.”

  “Mother?”

  “Yes Dorothy?”

  “Ann-Marie is here.”

  “Thank God… We had a fight and she ran away. Or at least drove away, in the Landover.”

  “Don’t worry about her mother.”

  “Dorothy, I don’t want her seeing that young man. He is unsuitable.”

  “All right mother, I’ll do my best.”

  “Will I send father to fetch her? I can get him on his mobile.”

  “Tell him to collect her tomorrow. A night here will probably settle her.”

  “Is that convenient for you Dorothy?”

  “What can I do?”

  “All right. Don’t let her out of your sight. I don’t trust her, and certainly not with that biker. She has been moody ever since she met him.”

  “Bye mother,” Dorothy said. She had too much anger at her mother to want a prolonged conversation.

  What to do, she asked herself with a frown. The one sure way to get Ann-Marie to want something was to tell her that she could not have it.

  “Ann-Marie?” she asked when she returned, “do you know this boy’s mobile number?”

  “No.”

  “Where he works?”

  “Yes, he is a courier with O’Donoghue’s. He is a motorb
ike courier.”

  “I have a suggestion Ann-Marie.”

  “What Dorothy?” again Ann-Marie was impatient.

  “Let me ring the O’Donoghue business offices tomorrow and talk to him on your behalf. Ann-Marie, what I’ll do is make an excuse and cancel him.”

  “What!” Ann-Marie was vehement, but Dorothy silenced her with a raised hand.

  “Let the dust settle and in a week or so get in touch with him again and apologize for changing the date. Or if you like I will cancel the date but give him a phone number, your mobile number, and he can connect again and make a date. That is assuming he is still interested.”

  “You mean, and not tell mother?” Ann-Marie asked a conspiratorial look in her eye.

  “What she does not know can’t hurt her.”

  “No, I won’t lie.”

  “Ann-Marie,” Dorothy asked, pleadingly.

  “No.” Ann-Marie hugged herself into a ball on the couch and began to weep again.

  “I’ll have to send you to bed. You can’t sit here Ann-Marie. I am expecting Jeremy.”

  “See,” Ann-Marie said with emphasis, “you have your boyfriend.”

  “I’m over twenty one, well over. You are still only a teenager.”

  The buzzer went on the front door.

  “That will be Jeremy. Dry your tears Ann-Marie.”

  But it was their father. Michael O’Byrne stormed in past Dorothy. He was red in the face and angry.

  “Ann-Marie, I thought I would find you here.”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Either you come home with me or I’ll ring the police and have your young biker thrown in Jail. I can do it. Either you don’t see him again or I’ll ruin him. It’s up to you.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “Fair be dammed. I’m not letting a daughter of mine throw herself at some filthy biker. You stick to your own class, young lady. You should be ashamed of yourself.”