Six Flavours of Sin (10 page)

Chapter 19

Enter Neville

Selene was obviously disapproving when I let her know I wouldn't be home.

Sunday morning was the enchanting dance of a couple making breakfast together in the kitchen, for the first time in their long history. Between kisses, smiles and chuckling. The gloating kind. We were both high. I was high on him, he was high on me.

So tell me ... why does that feel so good? We'd just entered the giggly, happy, early stages, all over again. He's so easy to fall for, and I'm falling all over again.

But, I had no idea that when it comes to falling, I'm a novice.
Nooooo
sir! Because, as I sit on the floor after breakfast, rifling through CDs and putting them into the player –(
carte blanche
feels
soooo
groovy)– the doorbell rings.

I mean, come on! I have pouty swollen lips from all the kissing I've been doing. I'm still radiating afterglow from my trip to a location called ‘ecstatic delight’, closely related to Turkish delight but different, so I guess it's possible that I'm looking alluring.
                           

A man I have never seen before, stands at the open door.

"Nev!"

Gary seems really excited to see him. I keep on stepping in and out of this parallel universe. The twilight zone has my name written all over it. They even have my retina
scanned. Who the heck is Nev?

"Woman, this is NEVILLE!"

I'm sitting on the floor in front of the stereo, when Neville takes one step towards me and trips over his own toes. He begins launching at me, and I'm feeling mildly alarmed. This guy is bloody phenomenal. He's like one of those weighted dolls with the round bottom. He tips horizontally and, impossibly, regains upright again, defying every law of gravity I know. He blushes and smiles at me, sticking a hand at my nose.

"Hi!"

I lean back and grasp his hand ... whoa! He's nervous as hell. I shake the slicked hand and smile. I am totally lost and Gary stole my map.

Gary booms with manic enthusiasm, "Nev, this is Stefanie! She's my woman."

Neville has cropped dark brown hair. He's dressed in army browns, he still has vestiges of teenage acne and he's shiny, glowing, with spectacles slipping down his nose, as his cheeks try to outdo each other with his gigantic smile, that he's aiming at me. (Nice teeth.)

It's the oddest sensation. I feel as though he's just
aimed a magnifying glass on me and is about to spread my wings before he pins me to a mounting board.

I lean back further for distance and look at Gary helplessly.

Gary ignores me flat out. "What are you doing here? This is rad just
rad
!"

Neville keeps smiling as though he has someone tickling his nether regions, "Just got out! I'm on my way home. I've done my duty and I'm a free man. You're my first stop!"

"You need a beer. Let's celebrate!" With this statement Gary leaves me alone with Neville and moves off to the kitchen.

This is so not cool.

Neville smiles at me, so widely it's unnerving. He stares. Doesn't he know it's rude to stare? He says bugger all. All he does is stand there beaming at me.

Weirdo
!

I ignore him and go back to my task of putting the CD shuttle into the player and press play. I've found this band I quite like. So I have a selection of Sisters of Mercy and Surrounded By Idiots doing the shuffle through the speakers.

Nev drops onto the carpet next to me, grinning, "I also like Sisters."

Huh?

"I don't have a sister."

(
And I am not into sisters! Do I look like Katy Perry to you? Yeah, one look and you can tell I'm babe bait. Hello?
)

He points at the CD shuttle and almost impales my nose with his finger; it almost slips into my eye. Flippinheck dude.

He laughs like a giggly teenager and explains for the blonde half-wit, "Sisters! They rock! Sisters of Mercy."

Ping Ping Ping.

Riiight!
Okay, I am not making a good impression. I guess it's true. Someone can fuck your brains out.

Why do army men all smell the same? Is it the water? Or the soap they use? He is much too close for comfort. I've only just met him and he's gazing at me as though I have a fairy on my left shoulder, the wicked devil on the other and the bluebird of happiness circling my head chirping twit- twit-twit!

Gary intrudes between Nev's fixated stare and me, by hovering a cracked open can of Castle in front of his nose.

I sigh, with relief, as he grabs it, stands up and the two of them smash the cans they're each holding together, "To
freedom"

"Wicked!"

I need to find the way out of this worm hole.

"We have to do something. We'll go camping! Rad! How about this weekend? Hey Nev?"

I watch Gary. He's smiling as much as Neville is. I'm dumbfounded. What the hell is going on? Who
is
this man?

"Right
on.
Yeah."

This is so strange; I'm feeling like I've stepped into a hippie camp with a nerd and a stud. (Sounds like one bad joke coming up.)

"Hey, Woman?"

I look at Gary. I'm feeling edgy and mildly unnerved. 
Whatever, right?

"Sure."

Neville beams, but now he has this confused expression he's aiming at me. He looks at Gary and asks with obvious shock, "Woman?"

Gary realises he's slipped up again.

"Yes! My woman! My sweet adorable lady - my little woman!"

(Me man, she woman ... you stand in man's cave ... rwaaaaaarrrrhh!)

I'm watching this with amusement. Gary is scrambling faster than eggs, and Neville obviously doesn't approve. One point awarded to Neville, whose eyes I cannot see because the light from the window reflects off his spectacles. And it's altogether creepy. (I wonder where he's looking?)

When he gets up to leave, he hooks his ankles
together again, and naturally falls like a felled log straight at me. )I've heard of someone falling for another, but this is getting ridiculous.) He grabs my shoulders and I stagger slightly under the force of his fall and weight.

He gathers himself, stands straight and beams, "You're
fabulous
."

Erm ... "Thanks."

He stands there, just staring down at me, smiling.

Dude, you are freaking me out!

Gary nudges him, "See you Friday. Legend."

He's in pause mode. Someone forgot to replace his batteries. He's not registering at all. (Control, alt, delete.) Okay, now I'm alarmed.

What's he thinking behind those spectacles? What did he do in the army anyway? Torture people by plucking out their eyelashes? Maybe he's one of those mind-reader types. He's doing the soul searching stare, so deeply, I can feel his gaze at the top of my thigh already.

(Thinks: Nananananana.) God help me, I never want to be alone with this man. He's scaring me spineless.

After a full minute of awkward 'pause' mode, he turns and trips towards the front door, slapping Gary's shoulder as he staggers past him, "Excellent! See you then."

There's a vacuum after he leaves. It's too quiet all of a sudden, too still. I stare at Gary, feeling unnerved.

He grins at me and says quietly, "Shot. He likes you."

I don’t care! Who is he? You’ve never mentioned him to be, Gary. Ever
.

"Who was that?"

He gives me the ‘How thick are you?’ look.

"N-E-V-I-L-L-E."

Exhale slowly. Do not do anything you'll regret. "I know that. How do you know him? You've never mentioned him."

He gives me a shocked stare, "Haven't I?"

"No!"

He flops down into a recliner with a goofy grin, which now reminds me of Neville, "We went to school together. This is soooo raaaaad!"

Friday night comes and I've moved back in. I pump up Gary's performance daily. High octane stuff. We are both
zinging
with erotic chills. We're both back in the saddle and we missed the ride. I'm open to doing things I normally would not consider. So, I have to take chocolate cake with me to go camping. I know I'm nuts.

But I can't live on alcohol the way everyone else can. And I've just perfected the art of the most exquisite chocolate fudge, chocolate cake. And I am making some to go with us, when Gary walks into the
kitchen with his excessively tall friend, Alan.

Gary holds out a plastic bag of ganja to me. "Put some of this in!"

(Oh, what the hell. What can it hurt? Honestly?) I take it and smile.

The two of them leave the kitchen sniggering like two boys that have just successfully pulled off a prank. I have no idea how this stuff works. Do I put in a teaspoon? Two?

So, I'm mixing, and get to the ‘add in this stuff’ point. It's full. Packed. Like a blown up pool pillow. I put in half and mix it in. Where are they? I need to ask someone what to do.

I can't find them. Oh, what the hell. I dump the rest in,
mix, pour them into the tins and bake them. Stuff stinks! It doesn't smell like chocolate cake at all. But I stand in that hot stinky kitchen making the chocolate fudge icing, using Mars bars - (this is very apt because I leave the planet soon.)

Three hours later Gary walks into the kitchen just as I finish icing them. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my neck.
Hmmmmm!

Holding me against him, he looks around, "Where's the stuff?"

I point at the cake, "In here."

He laughs and spins me to look down into my eyes incredulously, "You used all of it?"

I nod, confused.
Wasn't I meant to? No one gave me instructions and the stuff doesn't come with instructions.

He chuckles and kisses my forehead, “Oh woman, I love you.”

That night, at a camp fire in Noordhoek, I am starving! All anyone has done is barbecue sausage, drink and smoke. I don't eat
boerewors
, South Africa's special brand of sausage, so I am ravenous.

The tents are up and I am sitting at the fire with Kristy. She's drinking her usual red wine, I have a cider and she's enthusing about how great it is to be back to normal.

Gary staggers over with his entourage. He's holding the sliced up cake, "Woman, this is excellent. You have to try some."

Gosh darn, I am
soooo flippin
hungry the bark wrapped on the nearest tree looks appealing. I'm ignoring the fact he just called me woman as I don't feel like ruining the harmony we've rediscovered.

So, I have some. Kristy takes some. Gary wanders off with Charl, Alan, Neville
– clutching a bottle of strawberry Mampoer – and Graham. Gosh, this is yummy. It tastes just like my usual chocolate cake but with a few chewy dry bits in it. The icing is
out
of this world. Mars bars just
make it
.

So what's the big deal with dope anyway? Nothing's changed. I need to pee.

"I'll be right back," I tell Kristy. She's staring off into space, gazing at the entrancing flames of the campfire. (Zoned
out
.)

Whatever. I move to get up and
omigod
.
Holy crap
. I am spatially retarded. Everything is zooming in and out. My head is whirling like a ballerina on crack.
Bugger that.
I think I'll just sit here again for another few minutes. I really should have eaten something. I'm obviously so hungry, I'm hallucinating.

I turn my head to say as much to Kristy, when the world starts spiralling with the movement of my head. Flippinheck, but I am vertically challenged! I lean back in my chair heavily. It's one of those deck chairs that sits about an inch off the ground. I am going to fall.
Help
. Stop. I want to get off.

Okay, now I'm scared to move at all. I sit and watch the flames, wondering what Kristy finds so mesmerising. I try to focus on the sound of distant waves crashing.

Gary comes bouncing over, "Stef, come look here, babes"

He lurches into my vision. I stare at him, "I can't move."

He laughs as though I just tickled his g-spot.

Waaaaahahahaha, "My woman is stoned! This is
so
rad!"

No, I'm not. I just can't move. Nothing works. Oh lordy, there's bloody breathing in my ear. I can't even turn my head to see who it is. Gary is gone. There's so much brush around us, I'll never find him. They've probably gone off to smoke a joint on the beach.

"Hello!"

That sounds enthusiastic.