Behind Closed Doors

I went off to have a shower and, when I came out of the bathroom, eager to make love, I was dismayed to find Jack sound asleep on the bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake him as I knew he was exhausted—he had confessed to me during dinner that he had almost cancelled our weekend away because of the amount of work he had on but hadn’t wanted to let me down. When he eventually stirred a couple of hours later, he was mortified that he had fallen asleep and, gathering me in his arms, he made love to me.

We stayed in bed for most of the next morning and, after a lazy lunch, we headed back to London. Even though it meant that I didn’t see Jack for the whole of the following week, I was glad we’d managed to take some time out from the frenzy our imminent wedding had precipitated us into. And not being able to see Jack gave me the chance to finish the painting I had started for him two months previously. Because I rarely had time to work on it I had resigned myself to giving it to him as a wedding present rather than for Christmas, as I had wanted to do, but with Jack busy in the evenings and my suitcases consigned indefinitely to the back of the cupboard, I managed to complete it in time for Christmas Day. I hoped that if he liked it, it would grace the walls of our new home—I could easily imagine it hanging above the fireplace we’d talked about having.

It was a large painting and, at first glance, it seemed to be an abstract design of different shades of red with tiny shots of silver running through it. It was only on closer inspection that one could distinguish the mass of red as hundreds of tiny fireflies—and only Jack and I would know that the mass of red had been created, not from paint, but from lipstick, which I had then sealed with a clear varnish before completing the painting.

I had never told Jack that I enjoyed painting, and even when he had admired one of the canvases that hung in my kitchen I hadn’t mentioned that I was the artist. So when I told him on Christmas Day—once I was certain he liked the painting I’d given him—that not only had I painted Fireflies myself but that I had created it by kissing the canvas hundreds of times wearing different shades of red lipstick, he lavished so many compliments on me that I was pleased I had managed to surprise him. He was delighted that I could paint and told me that once we moved into our house, he would expect me to cover the walls with my work.

My house sold quickly. I wanted Jack to put the money I received from the sale towards the house he had found for us in Spring Eaton, but he refused, reminding me that it was his wedding present to me. He had discovered the sleepy village of Spring Eaton whilst driving back from Adam and Diane’s one Sunday, and found its situation some twenty miles south of London ideal. Because there was some minor work to be done on the house before we moved in, he didn’t want me to see it until we came back from our honeymoon. When I badgered him to tell me what it was like, he simply smiled and told me it was perfect. When I asked if it was like the one in the picture we had drawn up together, he replied solemnly that of course it was. I told him that I wanted to use the money from the sale of my house to furnish our new home as my wedding present to him and, after a lot of persuasion, he agreed. It was strange shopping for furniture for a house I had never seen but Jack knew exactly what he wanted and I couldn’t fault his taste.

I left my job a month before we were due to be married and a week later, after I complained teasingly to Jack that the novelty of not having anything to do all day long was wearing off, he appeared on my doorstep carrying a box tied with a red bow. Opening it, I found a three-month-old Labrador puppy staring up at me.

‘Jack, she’s adorable!’ I cried, lifting her out. ‘Where did you get her? Is she yours?’

‘No, she’s yours,’ he said. ‘Something to keep you busy.’

‘She’ll certainly do that,’ I laughed. I put her down on the ground and she ran around the hall exploring everything. ‘But I don’t understand what I’m meant to do with her while we’re on honeymoon in Thailand. We could ask my parents to have her, I suppose, but I’m not sure they’d agree.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s all arranged. I’ve found a housekeeper to look after our house while we’re away—I don’t want it lying empty and there’s still some furniture to be delivered, so she’s going to live in until we get back—and she’s going to look after Molly for us.’

‘Molly?’ I looked at the puppy. ‘Yes, it suits her very well. Millie will be so pleased, she’s always wanted a dog. Millie and Molly—they sound perfect together!’

‘That’s exactly what I thought,’ Jack nodded.

‘Millie is going to love her.’

‘And you? Will you love her?’

‘Of course I will!’ I scooped her into my arms. ‘I already do.’ I laughed as she began to lick my face. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to hate leaving her behind when we go to Thailand.’

‘But just think how pleased you’ll be to see her again when we get back. I can already picture your reunion,’ he smiled.

‘I can’t wait to show her to Millie! You’re so wonderfully kind, Jack.’ Leaning towards him, I kissed him tenderly. ‘Molly is exactly what I need to keep me company while you’re at work all day. I hope there are some lovely places to walk in Spring Eaton.’

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