Taming Sophie
Martine Hayes

 

Chapter 1

She stared anxiously from the truck. She hadn't been the best travelling companion, indeed she had no intentions of initiating any conversation with the driver. He smelt of sweat, he hadn't shaved, and she was beginning to wish that she had stayed at the truck stop for a little while longer. The radio played a few of her more memorable songs, keeping her amused for a while before breaking into the headlines. Sophie fumbled nervously to find the button which would move the station to another, one without news. She felt the drivers, sweaty hand gently enfold around hers. "Let me do that for you miss." He grumbled.

Sophie pulled her hand away from his, she smiled nervously, trying to avoid eye contact.

"So, why Glasgow?" He asked, in an attempt to make conversation. Sophie, smiled a forced smile. "I have friends there, I haven't seen them for a while." She kept her answers to a minimum. The driver nodded, unheartedly and began singing along to a song.

Suddenly, the traffic started moving slower. Sophie feared a road block, or an accident, where she knew the police would be attending. She could feel the warm air from the heater blowing directly onto her wet jeans, her feet were soaked, the warm air was making her sleepy but she had to stay awake, she couldn't risk falling asleep. "Why are we slowing, mate?" She asked, pretending to be patient. She leaned forward from the huge, two seater seat, and peered at the road ahead. She couldn't quite see beyond a line of cars due to the slight bend in the road, each time the truck crawled another few yards, she peered again in an attempt to find out exactly what the hold up was. In the distance, she could hear the sound of an emergency siren, it made her stomach chum. She rubbed her hands nervously on her legs and tried to view in the drivers rear view mirror. Suddenly, a police car raced past her on the hard shoulder. Sophie couldn't rest, she opened the cab door, and lept out.

"Ol! Whatya doin'?" The driver crawled over and closed the door. Shouting something at her.

Sophie headed towards the fields, at least she could find cover in the trees if she needed it. She hoped that she wouldn't. It was 5:00 pm, clouds were gathering again and Sophie knew that she had to head for shelter. She could see the blockage on the motorway now, a lorry had overturned. The traffic went on behind it for miles, she rested and watched for a while. She could feel the wind blowing gently through her hair, it wasn't cold. She turned and looked around her at the empty, grassed fields which surrounded her. She felt so peaceful, she felt invisible. The bustle of the blocked motorway below her seemed a million miles away. Sophie brushed her long, brown hair from her face, and sat down, watching the collage of coloured cars below. She didn't want to be here, she wanted to be in that car. It was the red one, she wanted to be inside it, singing to the radio, laughing with her husband, turning and smiling to the children and the dog in the back. She wanted to be wearing a nice suit, with comfortable, sensible but expensive shoes. She wanted to be driving to her family home, where her husband would cook dinner for her in a large, built in kitchen, with expensive cooking utensils, and a nice breakfast bar, with fruit on it. She would eat proper food, nothing which said 'Instant' on it. There would be proper vegetables, not frozen. Maybe should could grow them in the garden, in a greenhouse. Her friends could come and sit with her 'on the patio' for tea. They would be nice friends, ones who went to the library and church, ones who volunteered for 'WRVS' or the local charity shop

Instead she faced the reality of going home to the smell of alcohol, the stench of stale urine coming from the lift area of her high rise flat. How could she have missed the heroine addicts living next door but one, and the creepy guy next to that, the one that hid most of the day and only ever spoke with hesitation. The same one who liked to hang around the local chip shop at night in the hope of tempting someone to offer him some spare change, spare change didn’t exist in Glasgow, every penny was needed and well counted. She did miss those all night parties with her 'mates' racing to see who would be the first to pass out, whether it be due to the cheap lager or 'a wee line of smack' just to get the atmosphere right. She wanted to be in the red car.

Sophie opened her back pack. She had stuffed some sandwiches and a few biscuits inside her sweater, and put them in her bag along with some small necessities that might be useful to get her home. A hairbrush-toothbrush-some knickers-a �3 phone card, with �1.40 worth of call time. She had forgotten the can of cola, it probably still lay on the table where she had left it. She was hungry. Sophie put on her sweater and, still walking, bit into her peanut butter sandwich. A small farm appeared beyond the vast fields, and Sophie thought of the opportunity of a nice warm barn for the night. The farm was bigger than she had first imagined. There were many buildings attached to one another, some on their own. A few cows had gathered around the neighbouring fence as she made her way along the side of one of the buildings. The house looked lovely, the curtains were open wide, she could make out a lovely big mirror above a neat, clean fireplace. There didn't appear to be anyone inside, although she didn't intend on finding out. Sophie peered around the corner of the building. She could see a dog kennel, there was no dog. Over in the corner, was a children's swing, one of the one's made from rope and an old tyre. The grass was worn underneath it and a huge oak tree cradled the top of the swing along it's lowest branch. There was a large wall surrounding the garden, it encircled the whole farm. A few lilac towels hung neatly on the washing line. It was starting to get dark and Sophie was exhausted. She hadn't slept now for 2 nights, her head was sore, her feet were worse and she was feeling heavier with each step. She made her way into the barn and lay herself on the soft, smelly hay.

The morning seemed to come seconds after Sophie closed her eyes. She lay still for a while, contemplating the day ahead. The sound of a diesel engine made her more aware of her present location. A land rover appeared into the farm drive and Sophie watched the driver dismount the vehicle and walk slowly to the house. Although she couldn't see his face, Sophie could tell that he was rather dishy, he was dark, muscular framed and only about 5'6’ tall. Sophie watched in anticipation as the dark stranger walked confidently towards the door of the house. She wanted to see if anyone would answer. The stranger turned the handle of the door and entered the house. It was his house. It hadn't been locked. Sophie thought of her missed opportunity, especially a hot bath, a warm drink and perhaps a warm bite to eat too. She opened her bag and removed her last peanut butter sandwich, it was almost too horrid to eat. Sophie brushed the hay from her hair and decided to walk to the door, as the stranger had done. She could pretend to be lost, she could be camping a few miles down the road, and in need of some milk. She could be camping in the fields which brought her to the farm. She would think of something on the way to the door. As she walked closer Sophie began to hesitate, she suddenly thought that maybe the stranger wouldn't be alone. Maybe his family are inside, the child who owns the swing. Perhaps the wife is cooking some nice breakfast for the stranger. Perhaps they were listening to the radio, and had heard the news, maybe they knew her already. Sophie had gone too close to the door to turn back now. She took a deep breath, wore her best smile and knocked quietly on the door. The stranger appeared almost immediately. Sophie could feel the warmth from the house as he opened the door.

‘Sorry to bother you, My car has broken down, may I Come in, please?’

Sophie entered the house. She was in the kitchen, it was cosy, it was very clean and she felt out of place. His welcoming, pleasant smile brought a touch of guilt to her.

‘Where have you come from?’ Asked the welcoming host.

‘Oh just a few miles along the road.’ Sophie hadn’t lied. She had twisted the truth.

‘You can use the phone in the hall’ His tone implied that he was genuine in his approach.

‘Thank you’ The bashful Sophie replied and she raised a tired smile.

Sophie made her way into the hall, guided by the stranger. The house was lovely, it looked like a family home. There were photos and pictures on every wall, the house had a clean smell. Sophie waited until the stranger had returned to the kitchen, he had left the doorways opened, and Sophie could see him filling the kettle. She picked up the phone and pretended to dial.

‘Hello, I have broken down and I can't start the car,.. yes, I'm at... Sophie shouted to the stranger, ‘Where am I?’ she asked.

‘Lenware, south of Hartingston. This farm is called Charbourne it's on the B65’

‘Thank you’ Sophie smiled as she repeated the address.

‘Oh really? Can't you come sooner? ...Tomorrow!’ No sooner had she said it, than the guilt set in. She had started to weave the web of lies. She felt awful.

Sophie turned to the stranger to make sure he could hear her. ‘Where am I supposed to stay until then, I don't know anyone in this area, I'm just passing through on my way to Glasgow....Can't you come today? Thank you.... Goodbye’

Sophie placed the telephone back on to the receiver. She walked into the kitchen.

‘Tea?’ The stranger stood with a cup raised in his hands.

‘Thank you’ Sophie smiled at this handsome stranger.

‘So you come from Glasgow then?’

‘Yes, I'm on my way home from London.’ She began.

‘These roads are a bit out of your way aren't they?’ The stranger seemed concerned.

‘Yes, the traffic was terrible, I decided to take the scenic route, I was hoping to just stay off the motorway for a few hours until the traffic died, then re-join after a nice wee break in the country, but well...you know the rest.’ Sophie averted the strangers gaze, it was hard enough to lie without looking his generosity in the eye. Instead, she picked up the fresh cup of tea and began to drink.

The tea was hot, it was the best she had tasted.

‘When did you say you broke down?’ He enquired.

Sophie froze, of course it was morning, there was no traffic on the motorway at this time, or the hours previous, the roads would have been clear all night.

‘Last night, about tea time.’ She hoped she would be believed.

‘Did you stay anywhere local?’ He asked.

'Please, can I use your bathroom?’ Sophie didn’t want to tell anymore lies, the previous ones had been more than enough, he was too nice to lie to.

‘sure, this way’ He was pleased to accommodate her.

The stranger guided her again to the bathroom. Sophie was nervous, she was making too many mistakes and the stranger was too nice. She didn't want to have to lie anymore. She wanted to trust him. She wanted him to sit down with her and stroke her hair while she told him all about it. She wanted him to help her, to guide her out of this terrible mess. She stared at her self in the mirror. She was a mess. She no longer looked 25, she looked much older. Her once soft, flowing dark hair was now a heap of dry, broken vine. Her brown eyes, once so bright and beautiful were indeed windows to her soul, they were dark, and they had lost their shine. She washed her face and ran some water through her hair. She felt better, but would relish a nice hot bath. She couldn't ask, he was too nice. She had troubled him enough. She would drink her tea and leave. She made her way back to the kitchen.

‘Thank you.’ Sophie was grateful, she couldn’t begin to tell him how much.

Sophie sat down at the table, it was a large, pine table with chunky legs.

‘When you have finished your tea, I'll drive you out to your car, and I will have a look at it for you if you like. Although I can't promise anything, but you never know, it could be nothing.’

‘Pardon?’ Sophie was shocked, how the hell could she get out of this one?

‘I mean there is no need, you have been kind enough already, I couldn't trouble you anymore.

‘It's no trouble, believe me. I can't see you stuck in this miserable place.’

‘Miserable?’ Sophie couldn’t believe that anyone could call this peaceful place miserable.

‘Sorry. It's not the best place on earth for a young girl like you.’ He answered.

‘I think it's lovely, quiet and very healthy.’ Sophie smiled.

‘You read too many magazines.’ The stranger laughed.

Sophie removed the brush from her bag and began brushing her hair.

‘Are you hungry?’ the stranger asked.

Sophie stopped, this man was just so nice. She had really landed lucky.

‘Yes, I suppose I could eat something.’ She tried to sound polite, but what she meant was that she could eat for Britain.

‘Okay, why don't you go and have a nice bath, I'll have something ready for you’

Sophie felt dirty, maybe she smelt a bit, maybe he thought she was dirty too. She felt embarrassed.

‘A bath?’ She pretended that his comments were out of the ordinary, as to why he would emply such a thought.

‘It will help wash the straw from your hair, the barn isn't the cleanest of places to sleep.’ He looked on as Sophie blushed.

Sophie stared at the stranger, she couldn't say anything, Her heart was pounding. She felt silly and small. He knew she had been lying. The pretend phone call. She was so embarrassed. So ashamed. She said nothing.

‘I'll go run it for you.’ He passed no comments as to the reality of her ordeal, instead he smiled.

The stranger left the kitchen and Sophie got up from the table. She could leave. She walked towards the door, and stood nervously as if waiting for the door to open, she wanted to go. She couldn't. She had to explain. She couldn't leave without letting him see the real Sophie. She had to defend herself, she wasn't a liar, she wasn't a fake. She was Sophie, she had been hit by bad luck. She wasn't that bad, she was smart. She was sometimes wild, but she had her reasons. She could let him see that.

‘Don't leave.’ The stranger’s voice echoed in her head.

Sophie turned to find the stranger behind her holding a large, white towel. He handed it to her and beckoned her to follow him, which she did.

The bath was full, and the stranger left her at the door. A blue dressing gown hung on over the wash basin. He had left it for her.

The stranger returned to the kitchen. He stared through the window. What had she done? What was she running from? He scrambled some eggs and grilled some bacon for them both. He wouldn't ask her, he would just let her eat.

 

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Copyright (c) 1999 Martine Hayes
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