The Trouble of Taboo

After school, I went straight home, instead of going to the coffee shop with Ali, I’d told her that I had lots of homework to do and wanted to get it all done. It was the only excuse Ali would believe from me. I walked home slowly, my mind thinking about Mr P, I liked that nickname; it worked for him it was a hip name for a very cool guy. I should have been paying attention. It was the first time I’d walked home and not been wary. I should have known that Murphy’s law would kick in and catch me out today; the one day I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.

I put the key into the front door, humming to myself, thinking about Mr P’s eyes and how he had looked at me today. I walked in and instantly froze; standing right there in front of me was my father.

“Hello, Sir.” I muttered looking at the floor. I should have noticed the cars in the driveway, or the garden gate being open. I’m not meant to use the front door; I was meant to go in through the side door. The front door was for guests only and leads into the hallway, which always had to be spotless to show guests the best of the house and make them admire and love it. Stupid I know, but they are “the rules”. Of course, my parents were hardly ever home: my mother preferred the apartment closer to the school, basically she preferred having men around who weren’t my father and not having a teenager around cramping her style; whereas, my father worked in London and stayed there for three quarters of the year.

“Paige. What are you doing using this door?” My father asked me, his voice stony. He was a tall man and had the width too but was fit because he had a personal trainer and a maid who made all his meals. Dammit, I’d sent Maria home for the month; my father wasn’t meant to be back for another two weeks, and I didn’t need a maid/ cook/ babysitter, never mind the fact that I preferred to be by myself when in this house. I looked up at my father, squared my shoulders and pushed my fear as far down into my stomach as I could.

“I forgot. After all, most people tend to use the front door to enter a house.” My voice sounded much stronger than I felt, but I had promised myself next time he came home I was going to stand up to him and here I was standing up to him, trying not to let him see that I was shaking. He looked at me, more glared at me really.

“You know the rules! For that matter where is Maria?” He half shouted at me, raising his voice was a bad sign, but I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me.

“I sent her home. There’s no reason for her to be here when it’s just me here! I can do everything she does, and she gets to see her kids!” My own voice rising, which I knew was a stupid mistake but every time he came back home we had this argument. “Anyway, you can’t just come home a few days a month and act like my father and then just fuck off back to London and your sluts!” My temper was getting the best of me, something I never normally let happen, but he was really pissing me off and I was already upset and worried about Ali and what she would do next to make sure she got my attention. It wasn’t a bad thing it was just she took the overbearing parents who didn’t really give her the right kind of attention, by getting it from me. I didn’t have time to think about anything else. I was flying across the room. Only when I had landed, and I felt the sting on my stomach did I realise that I had just been punched, which because I hadn’t been paying attention to him had made it so much worse, and now not only would I have a bruise on my stomach but also on my back as I flew straight into the mahogany wood vase stand. To top it all off, the vase fell onto me. I could see blood coming down from my face. That one punch had beaten me up three times and my father seemed to be content with it not caring that he had just left a cut on my face.

I must have blacked out because I was suddenly waking up and it was darker than it had been and my father had left. I couldn’t hear him moving through the house; he must have gone to see my mother. I pushed myself up from the floor and groaned “Shit that hurts,” my head was throbbing and my stomach and back were killing me. I picked up my bag, just holding it in my hand instead of slinging it over my torso as normal, and carefully made my way up the stairs to my sanctuary: the three rooms in the house that were mine and had never been violated by any other’s presence, not even Ali’s. It was mine, all mine and it was the only place I felt safe. I opened my door and locked it behind me in case my father came home and fancied another round or something worse. I moved to my bathroom, grabbing the scissors from the side and cut my top off of me, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to pull it off. I looked at my stomach and saw a fist imprint on it, it had already started to turn a deep purple with a green tinge. I wished there was something to make the bruise size go down, but nothing I had ever used had helped. I looked at my back and saw another bruise going up it from the vase stand. I swallowed some paracetamol and aspirin, to help with the pain, and then looked at my face. I had a cut above my eye, I was lucky that it hadn’t been a bit lower otherwise I’d probably have been blind, but also that the vase was of a good standard and hadn’t shattered as it impacted with my face. But then my father never had any cheap tack in his house. He had to keep up appearances after all. I stopped looking at the cut and got some gauze and alcohol to clean the wound, seeing as I had passed out on the floor and I wasn’t sure how clean the floor was, seeing as Maria hadn’t been here for a while and I admit I’d been a bit lacking in the cleaning department. I cleaned the wound and put some gauze over it and then cleaned my bathroom.

I moved back to my bedroom and changed my trousers to my pyjama bottoms, realising that if I had gotten home at 5, because I walked slowly, then I must have been passed out for two hours. I sat on my bed trying to figure out what I could wear to bed, In the end I chose a loose-fitting strappy top that I could step into and pull up without having to bend too much, thanking anyone that I was small. I laid on my bed, on my side knowing that was the only way I was going to get to sleep and tried to figure out what story I was going to use this time. At some point I fell asleep.

Mr P was stood in front of me, stroking my arms and looking down into my eyes. I could feel his hesitation as to whether to kiss me, so instead I went up on my toes and gently pressed my lips against his. He put his arms around me pulling me close to his body, but I pulled away with a sharp intake of breath.

“Paige?” I heard his voice flow over me and I looked up at him, trying to keep the tears from leaving my eyes. “What ever is the matter?” He asked me and I shook my head.

“I tripped over some shoes I’d left near the door and knocked into a vase stand and then when I stood up fell down on my front and landed on something else,” I told him. Mr P looked at me, his eyes searching mine. I forced my eyes not to move from looking at his because then he’d know I was lying. He was about to hug me tightly when I stepped back. “Mr P, you could lose your job.” I said to him quietly, my eyes on the floor now, and I only then realised we were at school.

“Paige.” I heard him whisper and looked up at him, “Call me Neil, please? Mr P, as cool as it is, is too formal for how I feel about you.” I nodded and this time when he moved closer to me I didn’t move away from him, but instead allowed him to kiss me. I kissed him back, not even caring that my bruises were hurting now. I felt him slip the bottom of my top up as his hand gently caressed my stomach; I was too excited that he was touching me that I didn’t register the pain. He pulled back from me and looked at me, “I love you Paige.” He whispered.

I sat up and found myself in my bed. That dream had felt so real. At least I had an excuse to tell people now, but even so my lips were still tingling from where he had kissed me, and all I wanted was to be with Mr P. I got up, realising it was 6am anyway and time to get up. I stood up and then winced. I had been so absorbed in my dream that I had forgotten how badly it hurt to move. I went into my bathroom and showered carefully. As I got out, I wrapped a towel around me and walked into my dressing room switching the light of my walk-in wardrobe on. I looked around trying to figure out what I could wear that wouldn’t hurt too badly to put on. I finally selected a deep red plunge top that had eye and hooks down the front and so didn’t need to go over my head, black skinny jeans and put dolly shoes on. I applied some brown eye shadow and eye liner to accent my eyes and put on a low hung jewelled cross necklace, which rested exactly in my cleavage. I picked up a light jacket and headed downstairs. I grabbed a breakfast bar and put it into my bag. I looked at the clock it was quarter past seven: time for me to leave. I went out the side door just in case my father was looking up from his part of the house and left.

I had left slightly earlier than normal, taking into account that my stomach and back still hurt when I moved and so thought I’d be slower, but as it turned out walking faster helped and so I got to school at eight, a whole hour before I needed to be there; the gates weren’t even open. I leant against the front gate as I waited for a decent time to go into the building. I saw the grounds keeper come and open the gate; normally I would have spoken to him, but today I wasn’t in the mood and so kept my earphones in.

I’d closed my eyes and was leant against the wall, when I felt someone lay a hand on my arm, my eyes shot open and my hand swatted away the hand before I could see who it was or even think. The next moment, I was gasping for air out of pain. “Paige?” I froze, my breath caught in my throat as I heard his voice.

“N... Mr P?” I mentally kicked myself, I didn’t even know if his first name was Neil and I had almost said it out loud. I heard my voice wavering from pain and hoped he didn’t hear it too.

Neil’s POV

“Did you almost call me Neil? How did you know my name?” it was not what I was going to say, but my heart had stopped and I had zoned in on the N sound at the beginning; she had almost said my name in that velvet voice of hers. She looked like she was about to answer but I shook my head; it didn’t matter. “Never mind. Are you okay?” I asked her, remembering her gasping and her voice wavering a few minutes ago. I was slightly concerned as my dream instantly came back to me; she had been hurt in that too, but I had gotten slightly distracted from that. I was pulled back into the real world as I heard her voice.

“Yeah, just been a bit clumsy, as normal. Well I managed to trip over some shoes I’d left near the door last night as I got in and knocked into this stupid vase stand. As if that was not bad enough, when I stood I was off balance and fell down on my front and landed on something else.” I froze, that was the same reasoning that she had used in the dream. I looked at her. I was pretty sure she was lying, but why would she do that?

“Really? That sounds a bit unrealistic. Exactly how clumsy are you?” I asked her, trying to keep my voice neutral when my brain was screaming at the mere idea of her being in pain and getting hurt, but what could I do? Be around her twenty-four seven? I would find that more than agreeable but it was not possible; I think my fiancé would notice if I suddenly was not around. I often forgot about her, Lucy, when I was at work, mainly because I was completely focused on Paige. I often pondered on splitting with Lucy but was not sure of the correct procedure for such a thing, if there even was one.

“Of course, that really happened!” Paige answered, but I noticed that her voice had gone up an octave or two.

“Okay. Do you want to come sit in my room until school starts?” I asked her, trying to remain neutral, but the idea of half an hour alone with Paige sent shivers through me.

“Yes, definitely. I mean if you don’t mind.” She sounded excited and then less certain towards the end. I wanted to embrace her. To ask her what had really happened. To wipe away all of her concerns.

“Absolutely. Follow me.” I turned towards the building and walked towards my room, Paige following behind. I could hear her breathing and how it was laboured when she walked too slowly so I tried to keep to a faster than average pace. She caught up to me and walked at my side, a small smile brightening her face.

Paige’s POV

We reached his room and I was happy to just be stood still instead of walking around. Although, I had noticed that Mr P had kept up a fast pace for me and I was grateful. I walked in, slightly nervous that I was about to spend just under half an hour alone with Mr P. I sighed, even thinking about his name made my heart flutter. He turned around to look at me and I smiled up at him. He smiled back and I felt myself melt. He was seriously good looking, maybe not in the conventional way but in my way, with his sticky up ginger fair hair, his pale skin, his completely void of fat, skinny body, his light green eyes, which his glasses only accentuated, and the way his trousers hugged him tightly in a flattering way. He was my idea of perfection.

I realised that I was staring at him and blushed madly, looking down at the floor. I heard his trousers rustle as he moved and when I looked up he was right in front of me. He gently moved my fringe out of the way of my eyes. I felt his hand against my skin as he brushed my cheek. I looked up at him, losing myself in his eyes, as he lent down to me, not giving me time to lean up. His lips brushed mine gently and I felt sparks as they connected. I kissed him back, moving closer to him, my arms going around his waist as he moved one arm around me. The hand on my face moved around my neck, causing me to shiver, and played with my hair as our lips moved against each other's. I never wanted to move away from him but eventually his lips moved away from mine. My breath got caught in my throat as I realised what had just happened. Neil looked at me and then it dawned on him.

“Crap.” He whispered as he moved away from me and sat down at his desk. He put his head into his hands. He regretted It, I knew he did. It was late enough to get away with going to form, so I quietly gathered my stuff and left. I heard him say my name but left anyway. I didn’t want to see the guilt and sympathy in his eyes as he told me it couldn’t happen so I just left. Today’s Science lesson was going to be interesting, that’s for sure!