As all this went on, Kurt sat like a good guest, having painted a polite smile on his face that he intended to keep intact for the rest of the evening, regardless of how bad the jokes were. But fifteen minutes in and something arrived that would see him sit up and start to pay proper attention: and that something was Darlene.
With not having seen the girl for three years, when she had been eighteen, Kurt was aware that she was going to have changed a little. All the same, he would not have believed anyone had they told him that an image of pure lust was about to walk into their leaden evening meal.
She entered without introduction, Clive not even seeing her approach as he rabbited on about algorithms. Kurt saw her before anyone else and genuinely could not believe the transformation. His memories were of a stick-thin girl with a nice smile but relatively little else going for her in terms of appearance. Either a student’s life had done well for her or else she was just a late developer, however, because the young lady he beheld was quite the opposite.
Darlene had the kind of curves that a twenty-five-year-old male notices whether he wants to or not (unless he’s another way inclined). It was not even that she was dressed to put on a show, wearing only a casual V-neck sweater and jeans, but both of which fit her so perfectly that the fabric hugged her curves from her shoulders to her ankles. If her waist was out of shape in any way, like the two young boys, then Kurt’s eyes would have seen. Instead he saw nothing but loveliness, alluring and desirable.
Seeing her approach, Kurt had to be grateful that people had always judged him as laid back. If he was not good at keeping his reactions inside, then he might have completely lost his cool and made a fool of himself. Countless horny students must have succumbed to such instincts over the last few years and so he was thankful to be able to collect his wits and look casual.
‘Ah! Here’s the confident graduate,’ said Clive, after turning to see that his daughter had joined them. ‘Say “hello” to some old friends.’
‘Hello Mr and Mrs Wyden; hello Kurt,’ Darlene said, greeting them all with a smile that was too shy for her looks.
‘Darlene, congratulations!’ his father offered and the conversation then took a detour into polite questions about how her studies had gone.
Relieved to not have to say anything for a time, Kurt sat back and had the convenience of observing Darlene further as she was the centre of attention. After a little while he realized he was not really listening to what she was saying, however, having been waylaid by the shores of his imagination.
Eventually he caught up and discovered that, though she might look the part, Darlene was still very much her father’s daughter. Hellraising student days had not really found her and she had rejected the accommodation of the residence halls almost on arrival. No doubt whatever sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll she witnessed there temporarily was repellent, as her parents intervened and found her a house with three mature students instead. They were all strict Catholics, Kurt would learn and, though it was none of his business, he could not help but speculate on whether sexual liberation had completely passed Darlene by.
The thought served to confound and excite him at the same time.
His ears would then perk up again on detecting what might have been a possible contradiction, in that Darlene had in fact accepted an offer of engagement during her time away.
This revelation was revealed mischievously by young Michael, who was then reprimanded by his father and had to sit with a sulky face for the next ten minutes.
‘She nearly married a country boy,’ he had announced, with a snigger.
‘Mikey, you behave from now on or none of the fine roast your mother is serving will ever make it into your stomach,’ Clive ordered.
‘I’d have noticed if there was a ring on your finger, Darlene,’ said Kurt’s mother, trying to spare the girl’s blushes.
‘That’s OK, Mrs Wyden,’ Darlene replied, for some reason deciding to explain herself. ‘I was in a relationship for a little while; with the son of a priest, but it was a big mistake.’
A priest? Kurt thought, trying to picture how much sex a girl who lived in a house full of Catholics and the son of a priest might manage and finding it hard to conclude it could have been anything more than your average choir boy.
‘Oh! I hope it wasn’t difficult for you,’ Brenda commented.
‘In a way it was,’ Darlene admitted. ‘His mother was a little overbearing and, erm… manipulative. Luckily I saw it wouldn’t work and called it off.’
‘A lucky escape,’ Kurt offered, with a smile, realizing that he had not said a word to her as yet.
‘Well… yes! You could say that,’ Darlene replied, blushing a little and then casting her eyes down at the table.
As subtle as her reaction was, it enthralled him. He trusted that the older generation sitting nearby were too ancient to pick up on it; the boys too young (though Michael was smirking a little), but he picked up on it alright. Darlene was shy of him.
If she had been before then he hadn’t noticed, but then he hadn’t found her interesting enough to scrutinize back then. She was only human though so why not presume that there were reasons for her being nervous about seeing him again? Although her choice of clothing was restricted because of her parents being present, she had certainly made an effort with her makeup and her hair was perfectly straight. Kurt preferred female hair to be wavy, but she looked exquisite all the same.
Having expected to find nothing of interest in the evening, here was a fascination that Kurt wanted to learn more about. Was the Furse’s suddenly hot daughter completely uncharted by man? Or was her outward show of pureness hiding the trail of some adventurous souls who had already embarked? If so did that make her damaged goods, or did it mean that treasures had been left behind for others to enjoy?
Kurt had no way of knowing what interpretation to favor without setting out to find out for himself, but that was the way he liked it. A question that was less tantalizing, however, was whether or not she was taboo.
The Furse family had structured their lives so as to keep their daughter away from loose living and bad influences. They were hardly likely to welcome a rogue like him coming along and sweeping her off her feet. The respect between the two families probably meant there was a presumption that he would restrict his fast living to other localities.
Unless he could get Darlene out of his head then that social harmony risked being tested – and that was easier said than done when she was sitting barely a reach away.
‘So tell me, Darlene,’ he asked, when there was a lull in conversation, ‘now you’ve lived on both do you prefer the West Coast or the East Coast?’
Though in conflict over the possible consequences, Kurt could not resist seeing how she responded to him again. The more she blushed and appeared self-conscious, the more perilous his course of action was likely to become.