In The Morning When I leave

By Stephen Taylor

Heather Moore was just starting to make her way in the world in her chosen profession of archaeology, when love took her unexpectedly; powerful potent love that invaded her very being. It was as though she had been ensnared like an unsuspecting creature that had, in one moment been frolicking unconcerned in the spring sunshine, the next caught in its constricting grip, the more she resisted the tighter that grip became.
But with it came other conflicting emotions, guilt and betrayal. This man belonged to another, Caroline, her best friend, inseparable since childhood, her confidant. The invader was a potent erotic force and came with sensual promises to entice her, to arouse her, but how could she be so treacherous, so traitorous. Faced with this conflict her instincts told her that she had only one way out; to run. To run away and deny that love.
And so began a repeated sequence of events; she became the girl that ran away. But that love would not let go, and would pursue her wherever she went.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephen Taylor
• Release date: Mar 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310425806

Stephen Taylor

Stephen Taylor is the author of the pet care advice book "Your Cat Won't Do That!: Observations and Advice for Cat Companions from a Longtime Cat-Sitter." Stephen has also written a number of articles and essays published in venues. Several of Stephen's cat stories have been included in the highly popular anthologies produced by "Chicken Soup for the Soul." He is also the author of the sports blog “The Disgruntled Fan Report.” Originally from Philadelphia, PA, Stephen grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area before moving to the Oregon coast. Among other ventures, Stephen spent a decade as a professional cat-sitter in addition to serving as a cat care volunteer at a Bay Area animal shelter, where he helped prepare hundreds of cats for adoption. Today, Stephen spends his days in his Oregon home working as a graphic artist, writing on various topics, and pondering all things feline.

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IN THE MORNING WHEN I LEAVE

BY

STEPHEN TAYLOR

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Copyright Stephen Taylor 2014

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All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or any portions thereof, in any form.

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All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Discover other titles by Stephen Taylor at Smashwords.com:

No Quarter Asked No Quarter Given - http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/124253

A Canopy of Stars - http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/122376

Ripples and Shadows - http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/222633

Once Upon A Thatcher Time - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/307579

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Published BY Stephen Taylor at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashbooks .com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Cover image - copyright: Emmanuel Rosario

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

About the Author

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IN THE MORNING WHEN I LEAVE

CHAPTER 1.

Looking out of the aircraft window Heather heard the Ping! She turned and saw the illuminated fasten your seat belt sign above her head. Closing the book she had been reading she wrestled with the belt, it had become twisted, but then it somehow easily clicked into itself as if to say – there that wasn't so difficult was it. Looking out of the window again at the green rolling hills that was England she marvelled at just how green it actually was. She had spent the last four months on an archaeological dig in Turkey where her vision had become accustomed to monotonous browns. But then she realised why England was so very green - it rained so much. She looked skywards as the plane came to land, true to form it was dreary, drizzly; she knew she was home. Good old England, she thought to herself.

Her spell at the dig had been wonderful, but home meant family and friends, her heart lifted at the thought. Turkey had meant hard work and grubby worn fingernails, but it also meant intellectual fulfilment, and, as a perk, an amazing tan. She looked down at her bronzed legs and marvelled at the colour. I'm actually way passed tanned, she thought, something akin to mahogany and with my long dark hair I could be taken for Middle Eastern except for my blue-green eyes that betray my Anglo-Saxon origins.

She had spent months in boots and khaki shorts with her hair pulled back, but now she wanted to be girly again for a while, she had put on a short skirt with four slits, front, and back and at the sides in order to display her legs in all their glory. Her top was, likewise, a scanty sleeveless blouse but classical; I want that sexy elegance that Italian women seem to achieve, she thought – or at least that was her intention anyway.

Whatever, her friend Caroline was to meet her – they had been parted, and she wanted her tan to be the first thing she noticed in their reunion: and be green with envy. In reality, she mused, they had not really been parted, for time and distance couldn't separate them. For Caroline and herself shared one of life's wonderful blessings – they were true friends.

If they were away from each other, they just resumed that friendship the moment they met again – seamlessly, effortlessly, fluently. Not that they had ever spent much time apart, they had instantly bonded the first day at infant school and went through the pains and pleasures of childhood as a partnership.

They joined the brownies together, learned to play the flute together, played netball, hockey and soccer together. They did ballet together, and then dropped it together, preferring modern dance to the dismay of their teachers and parents. They lived in each other's houses until their respective parents barely knew who their own daughter was. They didn't knock at each other's doors – they didn't need to.

Later they supported each other through their adolescence sharing the joys and heartaches together – like the words of the Terry Jacks song, they skinned their hearts, and they skinned their knees – and they skinned them together.

Boys came along, and boys went, and even through those uneasy adolescent years, when hormones raced through their pubescent bodies like whirling dervishes, their friendship was never threatened. Boys were for fun, they never allowed them to come between them: they even shared many of them. Boys were temporary, but their friendship was forever.

They talked about everything together – they had no secrets from each other, and they were each other's most trusted confidants. Heather smiled to herself at these reflections, yet she knew that, despite this powerful bond, they were not one and the same – they were, in fact, very different people. They were complimentary rather than indistinguishable.

Caroline was the daring one and was good at every sport she turned her hand to. She was tall and toned, her teenage body was lean if a touch boy-like, but she, nevertheless, attracted the attention of the boys with her good looks even if she was always in a tracksuit with her hair tied in a ponytail.

She was bright too, but she underachieved academically; not because she didn't try but because her talents were simply spread to thinly to devote the time needed for her studies. She was captain of the netball, hockey and soccer teams, she ran for the county at athletics her long legs eating up the ground as she ran effortlessly.

Heather was the studious one - she devoured books from being a young child. She loved sports too, but never outstanding the way Caroline was – her petite five feet five frame was not really robust enough.

They were good for each other, however – Caroline enticing Heather to be more outgoing, and Heather putting the brakes on Caroline when she was running out of control; as she often did. When it came to university they should have separated, but they devoured brochures to find a University that had both an archaeological and a sports department and when they found one they worked to make sure that they got the necessary grades to get in.

They shared a house at university, and Heather made sure that Caroline studied to get her diploma, and Caroline made sure that Heather had time for those extracurricular activities that were on offer. She would say to Heather constantly, look girl this university lark isn't all about studying you know: and so it wasn't. They emerged from the college years with good degrees having partaken of the university experience.

The plane touched down with a slight bump, but the speaker told the passengers to remain in their seats until they came to a halt. Her thoughts returned to university; she chewed on the flesh on the side of her cheek, while, at the same time, a roguish smile tried to escape. They had both lost their virginity in their first year at university, whereas most of their contemporaries had managed that before they had left school.

They had observed boys with some amusement at school, had always called each other the moment a date had ended to report what had happened. In particular, they had an agreement - they would report immediately if they had done the 'dirty deed', as they had called it, with the boy in question.

At school, the answer had always been negative, but then in their first year at University, surprisingly it was Heather who had called first and said those words – we have a go on the, 'dirty deed' situation. Why at that moment and with that boy she wasn't quite sure: she and Caroline then talked about it endlessly into the night. Why had she done it – what it felt like – whether she liked it – what the boy was like – did she want to do it again with him?

And then Caroline made a proposal – a very odd and improper proposal - a suggestion that could only have been made to a very special friend indeed. She asked if Heather would mind if she also lost her virginity to the same boy. Now as she sat in her plane seat, Heather now, unexpectedly, realised what an outrageous proposal this was, and that smile finally escaped and conquered her features. At the time, she remembered, seeing nothing outrageous in it at all: she had readily agreed.

Now the lucky boy was quite unaware of just how lucky he was. Greg Thomas was a nice lad and had treated Heather with gentlemanly thoughtfulness when the dirty deed was done, and now on this night he had met Caroline, by accident, or so he thought, in the Students Union bar, but there was nothing unusual in that. They had a drink together and again nothing unusual in that either. He had flirted with Caroline the way young men do and this night the girl had responded - but hey, he was a girl magnet wasn't he? Well actually no he wasn't – well not tonight anyway: he was the quarry, not the hunter.

He was lured back to his own flat and there he thought he had seduced Caroline: when in reality she had been seduced him. Later that night Caroline and Heather had compared notes together. Now if the situation had been reversed and two boys had compared notes on a girl, it would have been viewed with great distaste - an act of, at best immaturity, at worst of betrayal or even defilement. Heather now mused that it was hard to justify what they had done except that, in their eyes, their motives were not impure even if the act itself clearly was.

To their minds it was a shared experience, the way they had shared everything else together. At least Greg Thomas's humiliation was never made public, and he never knew.

The fasten your seat belt sign pinged off; it wrenched her thoughts back to the present; in a strange way, it seemed to say welcome home Heather.

She rushed through passport control, collected her luggage piling it high onto an airport trolley so that she could barely see over it, and then set off rather precariously pushing it through the green Customs aisle at a speed that was somewhat inappropriate and a hazard to her fellow passengers.

In the arrivals lounge, her eyes scanned the assembly for Caroline and momentarily she thought that she had been abandoned, but then this thought was quickly rejected – Caroline wouldn't do that. And then, over the incessant sound of accumulated chatter she heard a childlike high pitched 'yoo-hoo Heather,' and over the top of her luggage she noticed a raised hand waving in the mid-distance.

Equally childlike she responded the same way –'yoo-hoo Caroline, yoo-hoo,' she shrieked, and the two girls set off towards each other.

When they met Heather put on the trolley's brake, and then they hugged each other squealing and jumping as they did so. Her luggage, however, continued its momentum so that the cases left the confines of the trolley and splayed across the floor. They both stopped briefly as reality interrupted there revelry, realising how silly they were acting. A young man bent to assist in picking up her cases, but then, in its turn reality was also rejected; they again hugged each other squealing as they did so as if they were twelve again.

After a few more mad childish moments, Heather broke away and turned to the young man to help him, but they both grabbed the handle of the last case together, both said sorry together, in that very self-conscious English way.

'Please let me,' he said, and she let go, and he put the last suitcase again precariously on top of the pile.

'Thank you very much,' she said embarrassingly, expecting him then to leave, but her embarrassment mounted when he remained.

'You're welcome,' he said, with mutual embarrassment etched also on his face.

They looked at each other incomprehensively for a further few self-conscious moments and then Caroline sniggered an explanation.

'You haven't met Chris have you,' she said, 'Heather this is Christian Adams.

'Hi,' he said holding out his hand openly, 'I've heard so much about you.'

She took his hand and completed the handshake. It was not a large powerful hand, but it wrapped itself firmly around hers, in that masculine way that indicates solidness. She stood perplexed for a moment, their hands still joined together. She shot several looks at Caroline and then back to him until she eventually spoke.

'Well that's bloody dandy,' she said gruffly emphasising every word, 'cause I've heard sod all about you.'

They let go of each other's hands as if a mild electric shock had struck them both. The airport public address rose above the noise of the lounge while they all stared at each other.

'Ouch,' said Caroline, 'this is my fault, isn't it? You see, Chris is kind of my boyfriend, if you understand.'

'Well not really,' sniffed Heather, 'there's been no mention of a Chris in your e-mails and texts. No mention of a Chris when we talked on the phone on Tuesday – what's that, two days ago?'

'I know,' said Caroline, 'but it has all been so fast. The proverbial whirlwind romance if you know what I mean.'

'Well, no I don't,' said Heather, making no attempt to hide her displeasure. It wasn't that she was jealous, more that she felt betrayed that she hadn't been taken into Caroline's confidence; that's what they had always done. 'How fast is fast, then?'

'Well we only met about ten days ago,' said Caroline sheepishly, 'we met on a postgraduate course, and things kind of happened.'

'Look,' said Christian awkwardly, 'you both need some time together to talk. Why don't I go and put the luggage in the car whilst you two go for a drink,' he mumbled semi-coherently. 'And I'll come back for you in about twenty minutes - how's that?'

Heather's rudeness suddenly became apparent to her. 'Oh I'm sorry,' she said to Christian, 'you really must excuse me. You must think me terribly rude; it's just that it's…'

'It's a bit of a shock,' he interrupted, and she noticed his expression of genuineness; 'well I know what you mean. It's a bit of a shock to me as well.'

'What do you want,' said Caroline. Heather looked at her non-plussed. 'To drink,' she added.

They were perched on a small table in the airport bar crammed in with dozens of others into too small a place and too many tables and chairs, 'Oh - I don't know,' said Heather.

'I think something short and stiff, would go down well,' said Caroline her face breaking out into a sheepish grin, but the double-entondre flew over Heathers head without her realising what her friend had said.

'OK a brandy,' she replied.

'I've so much to tell you,' said Caroline, 'we'll talk all night I expect.'

Heather's thoughts though were somewhere else. 'Look, am I still staying at your flat this week - with you.'

'Of course you are silly,' said Caroline, 'well I mean for the next couple of days anyway.'

'What do you mean,' said Heather warily, 'I can't stay at your flat if he's there – I just can't.'

'You're not being very rational Heather,' said Caroline her forehead furrowing in puzzlement. 'Chris won't be staying with us at my flat over the next couple of days, but I don't really see the problem if I wanted him too. We've never had any problems with each other's boyfriends before.'

'No we haven't,' murmured Heather her thoughts still distant.

'Hey! Hello!' cried Caroline.

Heather thoughts suddenly snapped back, but she still looked bemused.

'Whatever's the matter - I don't understand your reaction here. I've been bursting to tell you all about this for days, and now – well...'

'I'm sorry Caroline; it's just that - I don't know what it is. You're right - I'm not being very rational for god's sake - and I don't know why.'

'I know it's a shock, but come on it's not that much of a shock. You've been gone three months, and surely you're not surprised that I would be seeing men in the meantime.' 'No - not if you put it that way.'

'I was going to try and telephone you yesterday, but I thought it would be better if I told you face to face. Perhaps I should have called.'

'No, you haven't done anything wrong. It's just me that's being silly.'

'Well actually yes – a case of roll reversals isn't it. I'm supposed to be the ditsy one, aren't I?'

A smile traversed Heathers face, and then she playfully pushed Caroline away. 'Yes you always were a silly sod weren't you?'

'That's my girl,' said Caroline, 'this doesn't affect us in any way, and you know that, don't you?'

''Course,' said Heather, 'we're still good and always will be.'

They both relaxed back into their chairs and sipped at their drinks. Heather became aware of the chatter of the other customers around her in the bar.

Her eyes then widened as the brandy stung a path down her throat, and then warmed her digestive tract.

'Is this one a bit special then,' she coughed.

'Yes I think he is. It's just so comfortable with him - and he's not the type I usually go for. But it seems to be working.'

'Have you done the 'dirty deed' with him then?'

'Yes, and on the first night I'm afraid.'

'Caroline!' exclaimed Heather, 'you tart.'

'I know,' we always said it was a bad idea, didn't we? – you know on the first date.'

'Well apart from being downright slutty, it gives off all the wrong signals girlfriend.'

'I know – I know, you don't have to tell me that, but it felt so right.'

'Let's face it girlfriend,' said Heather her face now alive with amusement, 'I've only been gone for three months and you've turned into a slut.'

They giggled together as all the unease drained away.

'What's he do anyway?' asked Heather.

'He's one of your lot.'

'What do you mean?'

'Forensic Archaeologist, or some pretentious name like that; you'll have something to talk to him about.'

'Why, what are you getting at?' She cocked an eye.

'Well I know you're just back and that,' she sucked at her lip hesitantly.

'And what?' Her eyebrows rose further.

'Well I have to take a group of athletes to a junior meeting in Spain, the day after tomorrow, and I didn't want us to be away from each other again so soon... so I sort of... thought it would be a good idea if…'

'Caroline what have you done?' She shot her friend a fiery glance.

'Well I've booked you into the same hotel, 'cause I won't be coaching the entire time, will I?'

'And?' Heather's mouth gaped.

'Well Chris will be there as well... and I kind of thought... well you could keep each other company while I'm coaching.'

'Caroline!' That fierce look intensified.

'Sorry girlfriend,' she blushed, contritely added, 'it seemed a good idea at the time.'

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CHAPTER 2.

The flight to Spain was uncomfortable, but it was nothing to do with the airplane or the airline. It was about embarrassment – it was about awkwardness. There just didn't seem a natural way for these three people to sit together and all through the journey Heather felt that she was an interloper. She was not looking forward to spending time alone with Christian and all through the journey she mused about ways to excuse herself; concocted fictitious things that she had to do. She wanted to be prepared – she wanted to have her escape route well planned; if this meant spending endless time on her own then so be it.

The hotel was sumptuous and inviting, Caroline had chosen well; it should have been heaven sent for somebody who had spent three months living out of a tent in the hot sun. But somehow its attractions failed to enthuse her; she had other more pressing things on her mind.

On the first two days, she put her plan into action. She excused herself right after breakfast and spent the days by herself. They all ate dinner together, but Heather retired early.

Rising early on the third morning, she showered and packed a few things in a small bag that she might need for the day. Choosing a short skirt and a loose fitting blouse, a sort of attire for all occasions, she realised she didn't really know what she would end up doing for the day. But she sensed a need to hurry, even though there was no rational reason why she should feel that way; she just wanted to get away, and quickly. Picking up the small bag she opened the hotel room door briskly stepping through it.

The result was collision – collision with a picnic hamper and collision with Christian. The wicker basket fell to the floor between them, whilst they both let out a surprised Aaagh!

'What the … what are you doing here?' She spoke fast, her voice rising, she held her hand to her chest, shocked.

'Sorry,' said Christian, 'did I startle you? He twitched a smile.

'Yes, you bloody well did,' she said, unrestrained.

'Well, sorry again,' he said biting his bottom lip.

'What do you want?' she made no effort to hide her irritation.

'Well I just thought it might be a good idea if we went for a picnic together - today.'

She looked at him nonplussed without speaking for a moment. They exchanged glances for some moments, then she found her voice, but the rudeness was still there.

'Why would you think that would be a god idea?'

'Well it's obvious we have a problem, and I think that we have to sort it out,' he inclined his head, ' – if only for Caroline's sake.'

He was right of course and suddenly she knew it. She was lost for words, and he pressed home his advantage.

'You have been avoiding me at every opportunity haven't you?' Again she didn't speak; looking at her feet she gave a small nod in recognition of the truth. 'We need to sort this, don't we?'

Of course, it was the truth, it hit her like a pang of painful conscience, she suddenly realised her own foolishness.

'Yes, you're right,' she sighed contritely, then she squatted down to help retrieve the basket. Somehow it seemed the best thing to do to cover her own silliness. He joined her on the ground to help her lift it, but she noticed his eyes flash to her bronzed thighs, they had been revealed as her short skirt had ridden up. When he noticed that she had noticed him looking, he averted his glance; she smiled inwardly to herself. It was an attractive trait in a man she thought– to leer is unpleasant but to glance and then gallantly look away was somehow reassuringly decent, and yet at the same time it reassured her of her own attractiveness.

'Let's just check the wine,' he said. It was really just a diversion. 'Ah good, it's still intact – not broken.'

'Where do you have in mind?' she said playing her role in the diversion.

'Well I spent yesterday exploring, and I think I've found a nice little spot for us to picnic, have a good heart to heart.'

She didn't like the idea of that last bit, she played with the ring on her finger, but she muttered 'Ok,' anyway.

He flourished an arm flamboyantly, 'your carriage awaits, my lady,' he said.

He led her to the car park where he stopped beside a small convertible car.' I've hired this for a couple of days,' he said, 'what do you think?'

'I think it looks perfect,' she said honestly.

He opened the door, and she poured herself into the very low seat, and once again she revealed an abundance of bronzed thigh but this time she didn't seem to care. They sped along the coast road, the rushing air stroked her face and hair, ballooned her blouse immodestly, but his eyes were mostly ahead and so she relaxed in the seat and enjoyed the beating sun and the caressing wind. Riding in the sun in an open topped car is a pleasure in itself and she began to feel quite comfortable, but then the idea of a heart to heart re-entered her mind.

The car left the main coast road onto a side road which then quickly disintegrated into a dirt track. The car started to lurch from side to side as the suspension failed to cope with the ever-depreciating terrain, the potholes getting deeper and deeper.

'Where on earth are you taking me,' she said.

He just smiled and said, 'you'll see – trust me.'

And then around a corner there was a cove. The vehicle came to rest on the end a sandy beach. The cove was shallow and little more than two hundred yards long from end to end. From promontory to promontory it seemed to carve a perfect semicircle of golden sand lapped by a blue sea and kissed by an azure sky. The only feature was a large rock formation about a third of the way around standing proud as if it were some geological question mark.

'Wow! How did you find this place,' she said.

'Oh I'd like to take credit, but I asked the concierge at the hotel if he recommend a good place for a picnic. It took me ages to find it – but it's pretty good isn't it? It doesn't seem that anybody comes here. I thought we could picnic by that rock.' he nodded his head in the direction, and she followed his meaning.

He spread a gingham tablecloth on the flattest piece of rock he could find and then laid out the contents of the hamper. He balanced two glasses precariously on the tablecloth and they rocked as the wine was poured.

'I think we