Joshua's Grace

Chapter 4 (1)

One kiss. That's all he'd had. It had taken his logical, sensible world and tilted it. Not just tilted, but shaken, rocked, and completely up ended it. He pulled himself together, the last thing he wanted was for her to turn around and find him slathering over her and a decrepit lawn mower.

"Grace." He finally called, when he realized that he was aroused watching a woman mow a lawn.

Nothing changed. She didn't turn around. She hadn't stopped singing either. His lips twitched as he listened to the slightly off key yelled rendition of a recent hit. Then he noticed the walkman. A smile formed on his lips as he came to a decision. No point wasting a good opportunity to be a voyeur, and she'd be turning around soon enough. He smiled as his brain told him he was a coward stalling for time. Joshua sat down on the fourth step by the back door. He waited. She had almost reached the top edge of the patch of lawn. She heaved it one more time and finished the final few inches before the clothesline. Any minute now, she'd turn around, any minute. He felt his heart pick up pace. Anticipating her reaction. Getting used to his own.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Grace suddenly felt disconcerted. It was as if she was being watched. It unnerved her. She slowed to a halt, not quite finishing the strip of green, her eyes scanned the immediate horizon. Slowly, she scanned the fields ahead of her, followed the slope of the hills, then she looked up the hill. Nothing. For as far as she could see, no-one. She half expected to see her farming neighbour. No-one. A tiny tremor shivered down her spine. Decidedly uncomfortable, she gave the horizon one last scan. No-one.

Slowly, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder, and jumped visibly with shock when she saw Joshua. She hadn't really been expecting to find anyone sitting there watching her, not on her back doorstep. Not looking as if he were totally comfortable and relaxed, whilst she looked a state. And she certainly wasn't expecting to see Joshua. Not in real life, not in her life. She only saw him in her thoughts every day and in her dreams most nights. Maybe that was all this was; a mirage. A very life like mirage. Ever hopeful, she blinked. No, he was still there. Shit. She swore silently. He was even smiling. 

Thoughts raced frantically through her mind as her heart hammered, a combination of the fright he'd given her, the thrill she felt at seeing him and the expectation of imminent trouble. Her palms got clammy.

Now what? She wondered, as he continued to just sit there and watch. He seemed so at ease, as if he lived here and was just sitting out in the afternoon sun, enjoying the view. That brought her down with a jolt.

He had a brilliant view at his home, in a salubrious area, with the in- crowd, one that she didn't belong to. His crowd. Shock was replaced by practiced reserve. The old Grace was back. With deliberate reticence, she slowly removed her ear phones and switched off the tape. Deliberately slow she levered the lawnmower off the strip she'd done, turned it around and pushed it primly and ponderously back down toward the house. Time to face the music. She could handle this, she had handled similar situations when she was at school. She was older now, more sophisticated, more poised and more experienced, of course she could handle this. Just remain passively indifferent. Just a touch of restraint, that's all she needed to get through this, a touch of restraint.

She knew that she had behaved recklessly at his party, something she had been trying to fathom out for the last week, but she also knew that she would pay for it at some point. She had counted on it being a long way in the future. Fifty years from now would have been great, a nice safe option, when he'd hopefully have forgotten the incident. Some hope. He was here, ready to collect his dues. Shit. She muttered as she left the lawn mower propped up against the corner post of the clothes line and walked toward him with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Defensively but decisively she moved toward him. When she reached him, Grace jammed her hands into her back pockets, unaware of how the action drew attention to her chest. "Mr De Souza." She said ultra politely, her eyes cool, her features schooled to reflect reserve and indifference. Her posture tense.