Estelle – Creative Writing
I am lying in bed listening to my ignorant house mate having sex again! All I can hear is ‘Gur-unt, gur-unt, gur-untttt!’, But I don’t hear any female voices so I gather he’s rubbish or maybe he’s on his own?.
I DO NOT deserve my life, I really don’t. I’ve never deliberately hurt anybody, I pay my bills on time, love my child and what do I get for a house mate; a complete pervert of a man who has sex with probably a different girl every night , YUCK !. Oh god I might have to go for a walk this is killing me.
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I am glad Frank has so much sex to be honest well, someone has to don’t they.
And it carries on until finally ‘Hoooooooooo yes.Hooooooo yes.RAHHHHH.’ There’s silence.
Breakfast the next morning was kind of awkward obviously, i wasn’t going to mention it but, having not had any sleep and waking up on the wrong side of bed changes all this.
‘Morning Stella.’ Frank beams, handing me a glass of orange juice. ‘Sleep well?.’
i raise one eyebrow and give him a slow deliberate look, He understands it, and hot blush starts creeping up his celtically pale face. ‘Maybe you could very sweetly buy me a present,’ I tell him sternly. ‘What like a bunch of flowers?’ he smiles. ‘I was thinking more of earplugs,’
I suppose you wondering how I come to be sharing a house with sex-obsessed ginger man. It’s a bit of a long story, but I’d better tell it, and that way we’ll have got the boring bit out of the way.
My name as you will have noticed is Stella. It’s really Estelle, but I got so tired of the mispronunciation I had to put up with daily – ‘Ee-stell’ , ‘eh-stelley’ , Es-tewell’ even ‘Esther’
I was brought up in Paris, because my father was French , but my mother was one of those stuck up English women who refuse to change their roots, I spent a couple of years at boarding school when mummy and papa separated, when I was fourteen. Still I made some nice horse-faced friends and became good at tennis so my time wasn’t entirely wasted. I won’t bore you with my days at university, a year at Cambridge, reading romance and languages. All you need to know is that i didn’t work particularly hard went to a lot of parties and generally had a lovely time.
After Cambridge I got married to a boy I went out with in the summer term at the age of 22, Bound to fail, it lasted two years and was an amicable split, Rupert is even my daughters god father.
i travelled the world for a while and when I was twenty seven returned to Paris and got a job as a translator. When I was 34 I met Dominic through my father a nice bloke, we ended up moving to London and having my beautiful daughter, Honey. We got married when I was 36 we were happy for while but the spark just fizzled out with Dominic being at work constantly in Paris and various other countries we decided it best for honey that we should separate. Frank comes in the picture about here one of Dominic’s clients who needed somewhere to stay after a trip to Berlin that went terribly wrong (he got caught smuggling drugs into the country which some cruel person planted , so he had to sell up and find somewhere cheaper cause of the huge fine he had to pay.) I offered him a room at my house he’s been here three months now and 600 we’ve become great friends apart from when antics like last night happen. But I’m single and not getting anyway that’s why it bothers me. I must find some of my own.
The church hall that Happy Bunnies (Honey’s playgroup) is in is incredibly dirty. The lino is smeared and dusty, the equipment covered in smudges and finger marks and sticky patches. I smile at the assorted mothers – half a dozen or so of them – sitting on child sized chairs and watching their children dribble, with pride. There a dull looking lot I introduce honey and get out of there quick before they bore me to death. I decide to get a few groceries before I head over to work, but whilst I’m getting them I bump into my old friend Annette we get talking, go for a mocha etc which makes me an hour late, Damn!.
It wasn’t that bad but I’ve had to stay an hour late to make up for the time I missed this morning making me an hour late for picking Honey up from playgroup. When I get there all the children are still there (phew I don’t look like a terrible mother that can’t keep track of her child). I hear honey squeal and run to find her, some disgusting smelly 2 year old is trying to rip Honey’s dress, I grab her tell the group leader she’ll not be going again and quickly leave before i can get talked out of it, on my way out i saw another mother leaving with her rather cute and clean son, we get talking and realise we’re on the same level, her names Louisa, she has a good job and is a single parent. We both went for a coffee and took the children to the park. I love having Louisa around she’s normal like me (well as normal as we can be) new friends are always good.
When I got home frank was slaving over the stove cooking some delights as usual in his pink flowery apron (what a picture). ‘I’m sorry about last night’ frank says, ‘there’s no need to be. Your a grown man – you’re allowed to have sex’ though so much sex with all those different women isn’t exactly ideal. ‘I’ll just nip missy upstairs for her bath, read her a story and then I’m all yours’ ‘Cool’ says Frank. ‘It’ll be ready at eight, oh by the way your dad phoned ‘.
Oh god. ‘What did he say?’
‘Something about coming to stay for a couple, of days – he’s ringing back later.’
‘Pour me some wine will you?’ ‘Here pass your glass’ says Frank over filling my glass slightly, ‘ oooh guess what I’m going out tomorrow night to Isabella Howard’s!’
‘I’ll watch honey then ‘ Frank suggests ‘Thanks that’d be great Frank.’
We eat dinner in silence its heaven potatoes crispy round the edge, perfectly succulent chicken, vegetables steamed to perfection and gravy just the right texture. After dinner we get through 3 bottles of wine and start to feel a tiny bit intoxicated , ‘time for bed I think’ says Frank , we part with a hug and make our way up the stairs I stumble half way up and carry on , in my bedroom I start to wonder what it would be like to sleep with Frank. Ughh shake out of it I think to myself I can’t believe those thoughts were going through my head.
I wake up the next morning feeling rather worse for wear, honey’s already awake giggling away so I go and get her dressed in her new lilac dress and pretty white shoes. Today i am going to do nothing until later when I have to get ready for this outing tonight, Oh my god i haven’t got a clue what to wear, I have to look at least a little bit decent, maybe I’ll wear my new black dress with my favourite shoes or my best jeans with a pair of sexy stilettos a vest top with some nice accessories and a bit more make up.
Well two hours later and i still haven’t decided its going to be a long night….