Rachael sat on the train, deep in thought staring out of the window. The rush hour commuters were jockeying for their normal carriage for the Friday night journey home to a weekend away from the drudgery of their jobs.
She, meanwhile, was going to spend the weekend in the country with her new boyfriend. To be correct, she was going to his parent's country house to meet them for the first time. Rachael had a sense of foreboding about what to expect but couldn't put her finger on exactly why she was dreading the next 48 hours.
She had been enjoying the single life having been on her own for about six months when she met Greg in a bar about three months ago. She had gone out for a few drinks with some girl friends, turned around and spilt a drink on him. He laughed it off, he bought her a drink, they exchanged phone numbers and a few days later he called her. A few dates later they seemed to be settling into a routine and he spent the night with her. Sex was OK, maybe something that would improve with time she thought. Certainly not explosive or the stuff one read about. Also not as good as she had experienced before, albeit her experiences were not that numerous!
Her previous relationship, with Sam, had ended with him going to the other side of the world and making it clear he didn't see any purpose in Rachael joining him; that despite them having been an item for three years. During those intervening six months she had had an unfortunate drunken one night stand, but apart from that she had had no romantic interests and was happy with the situation. Prior to Sam, Rachael had a few boyfriends, no more and no less than her peer group and had also "enjoyed" the status of being the other woman having a two year relationship with a married man.
The doors on the train shut, interrupting Rachael's thoughts. She continued starring out of the window as the train left the station and picked up speed.
Greg worked near her and of late their routine was to meet for a quick drink before going to one of their flats or out for dinner about twice during the week and spending all weekends together, either at his flat or her's. They had both agreed it was getting difficult to juggle the logistics of living in two places, but neither had suggested moving in together.
Her mind wandered back to their sex life as the train reached its maximum speed and the scenery became a blur.
She enjoyed sex; she enjoyed making love with Greg. Most times he made her cum. But there was something missing. With Sam they pushed the boundaries. They discussed their fantasies but didn't act on most of them, which was fine. With other boyfriends, including her married lover, there was an explosion of sorts. Rachael was able to relax and let the physical sensations overwhelm her. Even if it was a quickie, she could lose herself in the act and she believed her partner did too. With Greg, something was held in reserve. Was he fully committed to the act or was his mind elsewhere. He certainly didn't seem as into it or as needy as others had. She chastised herself in comparing him to others. In every other respect he was loving and attentive and a delightful companion. And after all, that was as important as or more important than what went on in the bedroom. Wasn't it?
The train slowed down as the first station approached. Some people got off and fewer got on. As the doors shut and the train pulled off, her thoughts returned to the weekend ahead. She was to text Greg when she got to the station before his. He was already at his parents having gone down earlier to sort out some family paperwork issues. He would pick her up and take her to his parent's house. They were due to have dinner with his parents that night and presumably have a fireside cosy chat. She realised that this was the first time she had spent a weekend away with a boyfriends parents. What would the sleeping arrangements be? Would they share a room?
Saturday was supposed to be a relaxing day with a walk in the country in the afternoon, followed by a party with some old friends of Greg's. Was this where she was shown off?
Sunday was a pub lunch at a Carvery with his parents, before returning together back to London.
Rachael smiled to herself, it sounded like a scene from Bridget Jones Diary!
Her mind wondered again. Greg had met her friends. They had all been very polite and said he was nice, but there was always a nagging doubt that they were being polite and didn't really mean it. They wanted her to be happy and saw she seemed to be content; but did they see there was a spark missing? Her best friend Anna had pulled a face when Rachael had mentioned in passing the lack of spark in the bedroom. It was almost a case of "well I'm not surprised."
The train slowed to a stop at a station. This was the penultimate one. She texted Greg. He responded immediately; "See you at the station."
Rachael sighed deeply as the train pulled off. It may be a long 48 hours but she would be fine. His parents and friends couldn't be total ogres. They may come from the country, but they wouldn't be inbred with an eye in the middle of their foreheads would they?
That thought made her smile as the train slowed to her station and she saw Greg standing, waiting expectantly for her, on the platform.
She gathered her stuff and got off the train. Greg walked towards her and helped her with her bag, smiling as her chastely kissed her on the cheek.
They walked to his car making small talk about the journey. He feeling of foreboding was not going away, if anything his manner was making things worse. He seemed very distant. Distracted even.
"Are you OK?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes, why?"
"You seem distracted."
"Do I? Sorry." He replied as he started the car and headed out down a country lane.
The silence in the car was deafening as they drove the three miles or so until he pulled into a drive of a chocolate box cover, picturesque, thatched cottage with an in and out drive.
"This is my parents' house."
"Wow, it's beautiful," she said getting out of the car.
The front door opened and an elderly couple stood there to greet them.
"Hello, you must be Rachael unless Greg has picked up a waif or stray on the way. I'm Greg's dad, Bob. Welcome to Rose Cottage."
"And I'm Florence, so good to meet you. Greg has done nothing but talk about you since you two met."
Greg steered Rachael to the door and his smiling parents.
"Nice to meet you both too," Rachael said smiling, instantly regretting not having bought some flowers as a thank you, but hoping the bottle of wine in her bag would suffice.
"Greg, why don't you show Rachael to her room so she can freshen up and then join us for a pre dinner drink," Bob said.
"Yes, this way," Greg said pointing to the stairs.
They climbed the stairs and Greg entered a large room. "This is yours; the loo and bathroom are down the corridor. Is there anything you need?"
"Yes, a hug please."
He smiled awkwardly. "Sorry."
He dropped the bag and stepped towards her and stiffly hugged her. Letting her go, he said, "Get yourself refreshed, we will be downstairs having a drink when you are ready."
He turned around, left the room and shut the door.
What have I done? Rachael asked herself. Greg's behaviour was bazaar!
She quickly unpacked and used the bathroom to wash before changing and, taking the bottle of wine, went downstairs found Greg and his parents in the lounge, finding the room by following the sounds of their voices.
The three of them stood around a roaring log fire, stiffly holding their glasses of what appeared to be sherry.
"Feeling better dear?" Florence asked. "I do hate that journey from London."
"Yes, thanks," she replied. She handed the bottle of wine to Bob. "Just a small gesture for having me this weekend."
"You shouldn't have," he replied studying the label with interest.
"Greg, get your young lady a drink," Florence said in a commanding voice.
"Sherry?" he asked.
Rachael nodded. "Please."
"So do tell us about yourself Rachael," Bob asked as Greg handed her a glass. "We want to know that Greg has not been lying!" he added with a smile.
