one bit on the lecture. Instead I am fully preoccupied, focusing on firstly, avoiding Jeremy and secondly, revenge. How dare he do that to me? I scribble a note to a friend asking if I could have her notes for the rest of the lecture. I decide making an early escape would be the safest option, just in case he was serious about ‘picking me up’ afterwards. Fifteen minutes before the end, I slide out of my seat as discreetly as possible. I move silently toward the back door, which I think is my safest option. As I walk out and glance around the empty hallway, I secretly congratulate myself for out-manoeuvring Jeremy. I start walking determinedly down the corridor, furious with him, absolutely steaming. As I gather speed and lengthen my stride, my legs suddenly fall from underneath me so fast it temporarily winds me.
‘What the—’ I exclaim.
‘Hey, gorgeous, you didn’t really think I’d fall for that, did you?’
Jeremy scoops me up into exactly the same position as before. Where the hell did he come from? He carries me by the ankles, over his shoulders all the way to the cafeteria. Blokes are clapping and cheering all the way, congratulating him for being a real man. I am seething, to say the least. He deposits me on a chair and holds me with a firm grip around my shoulders and wrists. He knows too well I will run the second he lets go of me. I stare scathingly at his mates positioned around the table, all with smirks on their faces though their eyes pretend to look elsewhere around the room. Patrick and Neil arrive and place a tray in front of me — presumably my lunch has been pre-ordered so Jeremy has no reason to take his hands off me. Their giggles leave me with no doubt they think this situation is highly amusing. He senses me waiting for any opportunity.
‘Don’t try it, AB, it will only get worse for you very quickly.’
‘And exactly how long do you think you can keep this up, Jeremy?’ My voice is icy.
‘Exactly the same amount of time it takes for you to keep your word, my friend,’ he states. And damn it, he is true to his word.
This ‘carry on’ continues for the rest of the day. Eventually the thought of being hauled like a sack of potatoes and deposited into my last tutorial for the day and favourite subject, ‘The psychology of sensation and perception’, is too much for me, given it is a small class of twelve.
‘Okay, enough, Jeremy. No more. I have learnt my lesson. You win.’ He places me gently on the ground, the right way up.
‘I’m so pleased you have come to your senses, AB. I’m sure you didn’t want to experience what I had planned for you tonight.’
‘God, you are a relentless force!’
‘Not to be reckoned with I agree, although I’d rather define it as “persistent when required”.’
‘Whatever, I just need to get to class.’ I try to fob him off.
‘You’re sure you don’t need a lift? My legs move faster than yours.’ The smile on his face is so cheeky I can’t help but laugh at his cuteness even though I’m trying hard to appear disgruntled.
‘Very funny indeed. Goodbye!’
The memory is so clear, so strong, it’s as if it had only happened yesterday. Where did that come from? I haven’t thought about anything like that in years, decades even. I shake my head in an attempt to dislodge the past from my thoughts and remove any potential significance it may hold.
***
‘Do you think you might be ready any time soon?’
‘Yes, absolutely.’ Relief rushes over me. He didn’t mention anything about my promise, thank goodness. I quickly scoop all the packaging together into one of the bags and carefully place the lids back on the jars. I’m particularly careful with the perfume as the scent is truly gorgeous and I’d love to take it home with me.
‘I’ll just dry my hair and be out in a minute.’ I locate the hair dryer, flip my hair over my head and quickly blow-dry the damper parts underneath. It is wavier than usual, but I decide to leave it out anyway, hanging just below my shoulder blades. My face and body are glowing and I can’t help but smile back at the person grinning at me in the mirror. Nothing like a five-star hotel, French champagne, an orgasm sent from heaven in a luxurious bath and every beauty product under the sun to make a woman feel utterly pampered, at least for a while. I grab a giant, thick bathrobe (they never seem to be made for the average size woman), wrap it all around me and then some, before stepping out from my confined euphoria of the bathroom into the cool elegance of the hotel suite, and Jeremy’s arms.
‘You look excited,’ he says as he squeezes me tight.
‘I feel as guilty as sin in a wonderfully decadent way.’ I return his embrace and the passion in his eyes leaves me momentarily breathless.
‘Come here, you, time to feel a little more decadent. I want to show you something.’
His arm drapes over my shoulders and he steers me quickly through the master suite and into the walk-in robe. We are like young puppies finding a basket of new toys to play with. I gasp when we come to a sudden stop. A grin explodes on his face.
‘I have always wanted to do this, Alex, but wasn’t brave enough at uni. Would you wear this dress for me tonight?’
I walk over to an exquisite dress, simple, elegant, sophisticated and the most beautiful colour — deep red, blue-red. It is cut on the diagonal and across the shoulder, leaving one shoulder bare.
‘Jeremy, it is simply gorgeous, I’m … I’m speechless. Why are you doing all of this? I feel like I’m missing something. I don’t understand.’
‘There’s no need to understand. I want to do this, I’ve wanted to for a long time and now I can. Everything you need should be there to get dressed. I can’t wait to see you in it and I’m so pleased you like it. Try not to take as long as you did in the bathroom, or I’ll have to help you speed up the process,’ he says with a grin. I stand motionless, staring at him, then the dress. He slaps me lightly on my bottom to reinforce his words.
‘Okay, okay,’ I reply as I move into action.
I walk over to the dress and run my fingers along the satin; it feels silky smooth and soft. I quickly remove my robe and slip the dress over my head. It slides easily over my body and I’m grateful to find it has a built-in bra that just happens to fit my bustline beautifully. It slithers along my waist with the left side of the dress cascading exquisitely down my legs before coming to a stop; just long enough to tickle my ankle. I find an accompanying box of stunning stiletto-heel shoes that I’m almost not game to try on. I haven’t worn shoes like this since my twenties and I silently wonder whether I will be able to maintain a stylish sense of balance in them.
I have never worn such a bold colour and I stare at myself in shock. The creation is tantalising. The person in the mirror is sexy, confident, alluring. I notice an intricate, antique-style clasp on the bench so I pull my hair up into a loose chignon on the same side as my bare shoulder and clip it into place. Now the reflection in the mirror has an added dimension of unanticipated sophistication. No question about it now, I am well and truly living my version of Pretty Woman, and so far, for me at least, it is better than the original.
I
