When The Church Bells Toll

Southampton

     The Jewels of the High Seas cruise line ship reached the port of Southampton safely in time. It sailed the mighty Atlantic ocean waters at 10 knots from the port of Cartagena for six sea days now. Leoncio had given the final instructions to his deck crew about the routine passengers' debarkation procedures, a preparation on deck on its arrival at the port. When it comes to his work, Leoncio was considered an excellent employee. He was very proud of his achievements.

  Being far away from Frias - with all its old-fashioned tradition and cultural tradition - had given him the chance to be free and unleashed the person who he truly was – a Spanish Lothario. Going to Southampton, like any other modern city he’d been to, was a welcome transition from his laid back childhood in Spain. Here, everything comes alive at night. 

   That afternoon, a friend called him on the phone.

    “Hey, Leo, heard you’ve arrived today, do you want to join us for a cheeky pint?” asked Joe.

   “Sure, mate. Same place?”

   “Yah! Alright? 7 sharp, be there or be square!”

    Leo hung up the phone. Enjoying the nightlife and seeing his old mates were one of Leoncio’s form of amusement, and beautiful blondes by their side added to the fun.

   Inside the hotel where he stayed for the weekend, he prepared himself for a whole night of fun time at the bar district. It was a rainy night in Southampton, but being Friday, a lot of people went out and had anticipated for days the weekend entertainment. He grabbed his black overcoat that hanged on the wall and worn it on top of his black round neck shirt. He checked his denim jeans on the full-length mirror beside the foyer and black trainers. He was in awe of how he transformed from the strict formality of his white uniform to a dashing hunk of a guy like two different persons. Minutes later, he ran on 40th street, turned around a corner, and hailed a cab.

    “To Rock Avenue, please. Oh! I hate this bloody rain.” He told the driver.

    “Okay sir, let’s do it.” He answered.

    The cab cruised the interstate at 100 kph towards west.

    “Is it okay to smoke here?”

    “Oh Bollocks! You can’t do that in here.”

    “Okay, it’s fine.” Leoncio put back the stick of cigarette inside the box and placed it in his pocket while he looked at the cab driver in the rearview mirror as if saying, “Are you kidding me?” He had been doing that since he came to the city, but some drivers won’t allow it.

   After a few more minutes, the cab stopped in front of the club, Rock Avenue. He paid the driver and entered the place. The club bouncer has known he’s a regular in the club and agreed to let him in. He joined his three British mates inside the VIP room. Four women sat beside them. One of them was Lucy Webster.

  “Alright!, Mah debonair Spanish luver, Leeee-oooo-hhhh! Missed ya’r snog! Come to mama! Lucy screamed as she stood up to welcome him with a hug.

   “You’re a sweet thing!” Leoncio replied as they spent seconds kissing each other, and then said hello to the rest of his buddies.

  One of his mates reached for a glass of brandy, gave it to Leo and said, “Thanks.” He sat between Lucy and his buddy who was singing to the song being played by the band on stage.

 Three hours later and they were all drunk. They had spent the last couple of hours drinking and dancing. Leoncio checked his watch, it was past midnight. Leo and Lucy, whom their friends simply called them, L&L, said their goodbyes first. Outside, the pavements were still wet, but the rain had stopped. The air was filled with unusual coldness. He fixed Lucy’s coat and wrapped her in his arms as they walked to the corner. The two boarded a cab and spent the night at Lucy’s apartment.

   It must have been the strong spirit of alcohol that made them missed each other, or perhaps the month-long separation. Whatever it was, it had a nice after effect on them. During his earlier days of sailing in other countries, Leoncio had many girlfriends. He had one girl in Guatemala, one in Vietnam. Another in Brazil. The latest woman he met was Lucy Webster.

    Her beautiful face and lovely British accent attracted me the most. Leoncio reminisced. I felt like a British royalty when I was with her, although she didn’t have any royal connections. She worked as a beauty consultant in one of the big women spa and salon in Southampton. I met her when my mates and I attended a birthday party, and she was hired by the known celebrant to do her makeup and hair. She was introduced to me, and the way her body glided towards us when her name was called - as if she floated in the air, and flashed her pretty smiles. She knew right there and then, she must have me.  

   That goal didn’t take much longer to happen. The first time we had spent the night together in her apartment was right after the birthday party. She knew what she was doing. She had taught me a lot of things that nobody ever told nor done before. She’d been around, I guess, unlike the other women I had met before her, who were all timid and shy and didn’t know how to please a man in bed. When we get to her cozy apartment in the middle of the suburban area, she held my hand and led me to her bedroom. We didn’t even have to talk. Our body language said it all. Once inside, she looked at me straight in the eyes for a very long time and just smiled sweetly across the bed. She turned on the light on the bedside table and closed the blinds. He left me there, alone and confused. She went inside her walk-in closet and disappeared. I waited for her next move, but as time went by, the surge of heat inside of me had grown stronger. I wanted to check on her but something stopped me. So, I had taken a sip of the brandy on the table that she had prepared. The bittersweet taste and nice warmth of the alcohol soothed my body. It relaxed me even more. This time, she went out of the walk-in closet in her midnight blue sexy satin dress, and noticed her nice, wavy blond hair softly touched her naked shoulders. She moved her body slowly to the rhythm of the soft music played from the bar outside the bedroom. I felt the intensity of the moment as the night went on. Every arch of her body was a familiar language trying to send a message. The gentle movements of her hands and fingers swayed to the beat of the piano acoustics, the same as the feverish dance Mata Hari had done in front of her spectators, like a woman who offered and sacrificed her virginity to the devil. A release of her soul. An escape for her freedom. My eyes stared at her in fiery passion like a lion about to devour a human alive. She savored every second like she was in a dream. She thought she had been hypnotized. But alas! It was her, who had fallen under my spell.