A Different Class - 6

Chapter 6



Rebecca was mesmerised. Nate had to literally lead her like a child out of the building. They were sat in the car before she actually spoke.


"So it wasn't the worst thing in the World?" 


Bec looked up at him with eyes still wide with amazement, "I loved it! I can't believe I'm saying that..." 


He laughed as he started the engine, "oh how could a normal person love opera, hey?"


Swatting an indignant smack on his wrist she added, "of course not, though I did think it'd be more stuffy than it was. The colours...the passion..."


Nate glanced across, "I have to say Carmen is an easy opera to watch. Some of them can be really intense. I used to only like a few, if I was in the mood, but as I've got older...I don't know maybe a mature ear appreciates it more?"


"Like olives!" 


They were stationary at lights when he turned to her, humour in his eyes, "what?"


She grinned, "olives are one of those things that you need to be a certain age to appreciate, you know a mature palate!"


Nate was still shaking his head in wonder when he pulled into the quiet grove that housed her home. Stopping into the narrow road, he turned to her, "thanks for a great evening!"


Rebecca smiled back, "thank YOU! You organised it, treated me!"


His smile was lazy as he slid his arm along the back of her chair. "I enjoy seeing things from your eyes Becca, it's refreshing!"


Looking up into his eyes that were almost hidden in the dark, she lifted her chin, knowing that his lips were descending to hers. As was becoming usual, his kisses were drugging her, she found her hands gripping his jacket as his tongue dipped into her mouth. God she was like some desperate hussy whenever she was around him. 


Before the kiss got too out of control, before she started to snatch at his clothes, Becca pulled back, she needed a moment. He'd not wanted to take things any further than these kisses and she was determined not to be the one begging him to come inside yet again.


Putting a hand on the door, Nate immediately jumped into action, diving out of the car and rushing around to open her door, the gentleman that he was. Pulling herself out of the car, she was dominated by him standing too close, invading her personal space, but she wasn't threatened.


"Are you trying to corrupt me Mr Groves?"


Nate chuckled, "my life has been in tatters since I first set eyes on you!"


There was none of the cryptic messages or silly games that Bec was used to having in her other relationships, and she appreciated his honesty and openness. As she watched him reluctantly pull away from her home, drive off into the darkness of midnight, and smiled to herself. Oh yes, he was so different to anyone else she'd met. Locking her door, she changed into her pyjamas, but knew that sleep would evade her tonight.


Bec had dated in the past, for most of her Uni days there'd been an on/off relationship with Stuart, perfect in so many ways, good looking, funny, generous, from a good family, then she'd dated one of Tara's friends, there'd been a few drunken kisses, fumbles at parties, but she ended every one of these trysts, mainly because she could never let anyone in. Rebecca Taylor was a closed book, and she never dropped her guard, regardless of who the man was. Looking back Stuart, was the closest shed been to happy, but now she knew that he lacked that something to excite her, something that she'd not realised existed until she'd set eyes on Nathaniel Groves. 


She was glad that she enjoyed her job, and that she was busy, as it was the only thing that seemed to distract from her daydreams of Nate. And he seemed to occupy FAR too much of her time. The following day she missed her stop on the tube and ended up miles from home. She didn't remember getting there, and what was worse, was that she travelled back in the opposite direction with an inane smile on her face. Her thoughts had been worth the disruption!


Rebecca used that evening as the chance to catch up. She'd not had the chance to restore her home fully since the 'trial' with Sir Ed, and his son had taken up her mind if not her time in the days that had followed. So Bec took the opportunity to wash, iron, change bedding. Basically a month's worth of housework.


Friday night was the usual trawl into town with her work colleagues. Nate had called her, he was at a conference in a hotel in St John's Wood over night, 'schmoozing' he had called it, and Bec had laughed at the unexpected turn of phrase!


Saturday she visited the local market, buying fresh fruit, locally produced cheese and chutneys from a variety of sellers that lined the street. Tara had bought her a jazzy shopping trolley for her last birthday. Similar in function to the tartan bags on wheels that old ladies dragged home from supermarkets, but with it's purple wheels and flowery patterns, it was anything but old fashioned. Rebecca loved it, and it was the most useful thing she'd ever had.


She stopped for coffee in a cafe halfway home, and she was sat her eyes closed, face turned up to bask in the sun when her phone rang. 


"I am free!" Nate's voice burst excitedly down the phone,


Bec chuckled, "you sound as though you've been in prison for murder!"


She could hear the relief in his voice, "it feels as though I have been! Are you free today? This afternoon? I'd love to see you."


"Nothing really planned," she'd suggested she might join the gang in the pub that evening, but there was no commitment there. 


"I need to get home, change...do you fancy a stroll somewhere?"


So an hour later after depositing her purchases and trolley back at her home, Bec found herself waiting on the Embankment, the London Eye and Big Ben across the river from her. He'd promised her a trip along the Thames in one of the tourist boats, he'd confessed that he was revisiting the things that were on his doorstep for years. She'd agreed to go to the Natural History Museum next time, somewhere she spent a LOT of time, but then there was so much to see she was never bored.


This time she'd remembered sunscreen! 


Much later they gathered their things and left the boat behind. The trip had been fun but Rebecca was glad to get back onto dry and steady land. She'd had a few messages from Johnny, they were out in a pub enjoying the sunshine. She'd suggested joining them to Nate, and he was keen. So she led him to the Vine Tree, a pub local to Johnny and Lyle’s new flat, secretly she really wanted their approval on a man who was having an increasingly large footing in her life.


The pub was full, and once they had a drink, they skirted the room and slipped out the door into the large beer garden or more correctly the ten metre square beer decking. And as expected in the corner was Johnny, Lyle and their landlord Smithy.


“Hey guys!” she announced thrusting her glass down on the table between them.


“Hey Bec!” the three jumped up and all hugged her.


“Glad you could join us? What you been up to? “ Johnny asked, shifting along the bench to make room for her.


“We’ve been out on the Thames, seeing the sights!” At that point they all glanced behind her and both noticed then recognised the son of Sir Edward.


“Guys this is Nate, Nate - Johnny, Lyle and Smithy!”


They began an elaborate ritual of handshaking and masculine nods at each other, and Bec could see the wary glances her friends gave. 


Nate too must’ve been aware as he quickly quipped, “He may be my father, but I’m nothing like him.”


Johnny snorted, “No offence mate, but that can only be a good thing!”


Nate laughed, “it’s a million times worse being brought up by him! I can assure you of that!”


They both sat down and though the conversation was stilted at first, after not too long they were all joking about some common ground topics. Thought Rebecca felt as thought she was working the hardest she ever had, just trying to keep conversation flowing. Nate didn't look ruffled by anything, and as a well read and worldly man, he could dip into most conversations with some competency.


Conversations of football, Lyle and Johnny's first love, did raise some awkward moments, Nate instinctively liked cricket and lacrosse, as well as being a good standard rower, but for some reason, instead of accepting their differences, the three men seemed to rile each other, pushing and forcing the other to make an error.


Lyle and Johnny were the most avid football fans she knew, but Nate was well spoken, educated and brought up, it was awkward for Nate and Bec felt awful at his discomfort. 


“What are you doing with him? He's a knob!” Lyle asked eventually when Nate went to the bar, it was his round.


“He’s nice Lyle, trust me.” Bec ignored the knives of pain that his derogatory words caused to lance through her. She just wanted them to like Nate, see what she saw, but that comment made her realise that acceptance was a long way off.


Smithy shook his head, “his dad did a real job on you!”


She nodded trying to control her emotions, “I know, and he is more sad about that than you guys! Honest he’s a good guy. You’ll see!”


“Are you coming to the Cellar Bar?” Smithy asked when he returned. “There’s a band playing, a Jam tribute.”


Nate looked at Bec and saw the expectation in her eyes. “If you want to Bec, of course we can go.” It was his idea of hell, but the old adage when in Rome came to mind, the art of compromise was necessary here. Secondary to that, he was so keen to see her relax, this evening had been far too difficult for her.


Rebecca smiled, “we can go for half an hour.”


So two hours later, they were crammed into the humid basement, along with far too many people, watching a decidedly average tribute band.


She felt an arm snake around her waist, and a voice whispered in her ear. “I was never into the original band, and these are a poor version. Shall we go?”


it was hot and they'd both had enough, so she  nodded, slipping her hand into his, and allowing him to lead her out of the bar once she’d bade her farewells.


They walked the mile or so back to hers, and enjoyed chatting about everything and nothing.


“Are you coming in?” she asked on the doorstep, despite her earlier reluctance to be the one to ask.


He shook his head, “I’ve got to get back to the conference, it ends at nine.”


“On a Sunday!” she tried to hide her disappointment.


He lifted her chin to look into her defeated eyes, “I want to stay Bec, more than anything. But I told you last time, when we do spend a night together we’re going to be prepared, and sober, and expectant, and unrushed…” he kissed her and her knees weakened.


Smiling he pulled away, “God it’s even harder to leave now!”


“Then don’t!” she hated the begging tone to her voice.


He kissed her again, his tongue delving into her mouth, his hand low on her back pulled their hips together. 


“Right!” he eventually pulled away. “I’m at a meeting in the morning, and I have a few things on in the afternoon. Shall I call you?”


She nodded, “I’ve nothing concrete planned.”