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The Primrose
by Patience H. Jacoby
145 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #01-0516; ISBN 1-55369-114-8; US$17.00, C$18.95, EUR14.00, £10.00
Sometimes we are lucky and meet our perfect match. The world could be complete, but the train of life never runs on time. Only if we are really lucky do we get a second chance.
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About the book About the author Sample excerpt Catalogue info
About the BookTom and Theres are both married, meet on the internet, become romantically entangled and agree to travel together in Europe. Their journey leads from Aberdeen to Istanbul. Conflicts and tensions develop as tom's divided heart leads him to a closer intimacy with Theres than he has ever known, and then an apparent life-and-death emergency calls him back to his family. can he ever find a way back to Theres? |
About the Author A dual citizen of Germany and Britain, P. H. Jacoby has moved her residence on an average more than once every year of her life, and characterizes herself as an international person. Contact the author at PHJacoby@hotmail.com |
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Sample Excerpt
Tom could hear her rummage around her cabin - thankfully she had closed both the doors. Eventually, there was silence and he hoped she would be asleep. From the near-by bar car, he could faintly make out the sound of the piano. They had debated about joining the other passengers, but had decided that they wanted to be by themselves.
Quietly, trying not to make any sound, he heaved her suitcase into his cabin and closed the door - better to keep two closed doors between them, just to make sure.
He lay her case flat onto his upturned bed and opened it. There were clothes he had not seen her wear before; the one that he liked most was a white dress that he took out to examine in detail.
She must only recently have bought this frock, as there still was a tag in the seam. It smelled of her already, maybe because it had been confined with her other clothes. He shook the dress to its full extent and held it against his bulk. It was near to floor-length. The top was crocheted and would fit tightly around her full round breasts. The skirt was wide and flouncy. It would make her look even more like an angel. His angel, no matter what doubts he might have about their future together.
Tom turned and caught his reflection in the mirror. 'You old fool', he said to himself. 'Make sure that you look after her. She is worth a hundred of you, and never you forget that!'
He breathed in deeply, drinking in the essence of Theres, given to him by her clothes. He hugged the soft material closer, imagining that she was already wearing it. His skin prickled and he desired her.
He closed his eyes and could see her wearing that dress, in his arms, and he could imagine the smell of her hair and the freshness of her skin against his chest when she nestled there, holding on to him like the child he yearned to protect. Theres, his Theres. Lillian or no, Theres he would never leave, she would always be in his heart and every waking moment would be filled with memories of her.
Tom returned from his reveries when the train halted. He quickly changed into his slacks, closed Theres' suitcase before returning it to its rest, and then knocked at her door. He entered almost at the same moment and threw the white dress at her.
'Put that on and come to my cabin. Hurry!' He barked at her. Then he withdrew.
A minute later, Theres stood in his cabin, her feet bare and her hair tousled. But she wore the white dress. Angel. She was confused and he signaled her to remain quiet. Then, he led her out into the corridor. Nobody else seemed around. A silent valet nodded at them when they slid past him. The doors to the outside were open. Cool night air greeted them and Tom put his arm around Theres to shelter her from the breeze. He shunted her out and she could feel moist blades of grass under her feet. Tom maneuvered her around a small gate and along a hedge. When they turned again, she could make out faint lights. Lanterns had been placed along their path. A soft, light-colored blanket had been spread for them, a cooler held a bottle of dark green glass, two tall glass flutes rested against a small basket holding fresh fruit, and cushions were scattered around.
Theres was stunned. She had worried about the nocturnal activities, wondered what was going on, but she trusted Tom and knew that he would not let her come to harm. Tom felt the pride of a young man, impressing his first love with his ingenuity. He physically felt his happiness.
'You said it was a special train, didn't you?'
'Tom, what have you done? This is...wonderful!'
'Well, my angel, you are not the only one who can organize things. Now sit down. The train is only stopping for forty minutes, and before long, you will feel the cold.'
Theres lowered herself onto the cushions and took the flutes. They were heavier than she had expected, and when she realized that they were of fine crystal, she was astounded. This was pure, unadulterated luxury and she began to enjoy the moment, despite the cold seeping through the night and making her skin tingle. Tom uncorked the Champagne.
'Here is to our love - and to eternity.'
'Here is to the moon and stars.'
'Here is to love.'
'Here is to you and me!'
The cork flew into the night. Flutes filled, they clinked the crystal and created a sound that rang like music in the air. Theres remembered that some famous prima donna could shatter crystal with the pitch of her voice, and she giggled. She wished she could sing, but she just smiled and moved closer towards Tom. Before they drank, their lips met joyfully. Forgotten were the darker thoughts from earlier. Their love would surmount any hurdles and objections, as long as they could steal these moments.
