Authors: T A Williams
Suzy glanced to her right, before answering. Maggie was still talking to Tom. She turned back and gave Jimmy a smile. ‘If things were different, I’d like that, Jimmy. But not tonight, I’m afraid.’
Tom was making heavy weather of his attempts to converse with Maggie.
‘I was very impressed with your writing style. You have a wide vocabulary and the ability to describe feelings like happiness, fear and in particular, pain. Have you practised a lot?’
‘Doing what?’
‘Writing. Have you done a lot of writing?’
‘Only fairly recently. I was a teacher for a number of years. What with homework and all the damn red tape there is these days, I didn’t have the time.’
‘How long ago did you give up teaching?’
‘Five years ago. My husband set up his own business and I gave up teaching to join him.’
‘Is he still doing that now?’
‘We were in an accident. He’s dead.’
‘Ah. I’m so sorry.’
The starter arrived. As the covers were removed, the maître d’hôtel announced, ‘Pressed terrine of chicken and duck liver, fig and port reduction and Monbazillac jelly.’
Conversation was temporarily interrupted, as they started eating. After a while, Tom wiped his mouth with his napkin and turned to Ros. ‘I have been meaning to tell you, I started your book the other day.’
She looked up from the terrine. This was news. ‘And…?’
‘I’m a hundred pages in. I’m enjoying it. You aren’t the one that gets kidnapped, are you? You’re the cop. What’s his name, Sergeant Freeman. Right?’
‘Well, I’m certainly not the kidnap victim. She’s a bit of a wuss. But that’s a fascinating one, the detective. I never thought of that before. You know, you may be right. Inside that hard-drinking, rough spoken, cynical exterior, there might be a bit of little old me.’
‘He’s pretty butch, you know.’ Tom lowered his voice, although Maggie was occupied whispering to Suzy. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
‘Nothing I could possibly admit to at the dinner table.’
On the other side of her, Scott let out a giggle. ‘You two seem to know each other very well. Are you old friends?’
‘It feels like it.’ Tom replied instantly.
She gave him another smile, before turning to Scott. ‘We live near each other. We’ve known each other for months but only discovered a mutual interest in writing quite recently. What about you and Penny? Have you been involved with any of her writing?’
Scott lowered his voice. ‘Not writing. She did that all herself. At least, the only input from me was when she was describing the Marquise’s bottom.’ He paused, his cheeks colouring. ‘I suggested she take out the expression “milky white”. I thought it sounded a bit naff.’
Ros glanced across at Tom. He gave her a broad wink.
‘But reading, yes. I read the demo piece she had to do and made a few comments.’
‘Did you like it? Did you find it a bit raunchy?’
He blushed again. ‘A bit raunchy? I’ve shared a house with Pen for two years now. Jamie, that’s our other housemate, and I call her Auntie Pen. She’s sort of like a big sister really.’ He stopped, his face now bright red. ‘No, that’s really not the right analogy. Anyway, when you read something like that, written by somebody you have always thought of as one of the family, it’s a shock to the system.’
Tom reflected that this was only the first of a series of shocks that would hit Scott’s system this weekend. Just then, he felt Ros’s knee briefly touch his. A feeling of languorous joy swamped him.
‘Tom … Tom.’ He was roused by a voice from further along the table. It was Tiffany.
‘Sorry, Tiffany. I was miles away.’
‘Sorry to talk shop. We were just wondering why there isn’t a specimen thousand words in our folders written by you.’
‘Yes, Tom, what about it?’ Penny joined in.
Janet, now restored to beatific serenity, completed the chorus. ‘Why, you might spell like a ten-year-old, for all we know. We are putting our reputations on the line here.’ They were all laughing now, even Maggie.
Tom glanced desperately at Ros. She was steadfastly gazing down at the table. He would have to solve this one himself. Somehow, the idea of exposing his love, or should that be lust, for Ros to a wider audience was unthinkable. There was only one way out. Write another. He just needed to buy himself some time. He resorted to a white lie.
‘You are absolutely right. I have indeed done one. I’ll dig it out tonight and you will all have copies to read over breakfast.’
A ragged cheer greeted the announcement. Only now did Ros meet his eye. To his surprise, she did not look in the least bit concerned that a scene that appeared to describe her stripping in the hotel bedroom might be about to be exposed to outside scrutiny.
‘Oh, bugger,’ he thought to himself, ‘I’m not going to get a lot of sleep tonight.’
The party broke up quite soon after the coffees and liqueurs. Penny, Tiffany and Ros were all keen to get to bed early. They had their reasons. Maggie was also clearly looking forward to getting back to the room with Suzy. After a good few glasses of wine, she had started touching her a little too intimately. Jimmy, looking on, was dumbstruck. The girl’s body language was screaming out her reluctance, but, when the time came, she dropped her eyes and followed obediently.
Ros caught Tom by the arm. ‘I really don’t like the look of that at all.’
‘Me neither. But what can we do?’
‘I know. They are both grown-ups, more or less.’ She shook her head to clear it. ‘When are you coming up?’
‘I’ve got to modify my thousand words first. I’ll slip into the study and do it. I shouldn’t be too long.’
‘Will you come and say good night? Maybe through the secret door?’
A thrill went through him. ‘Very definitely.’
Leaving him to his homework, she followed Tiffany and Penny, with their respective partners, up the stairs. She noticed Luca’s hand slip down to his wife’s buttock. In response she snuggled up against him. Penny and Scott went up the stairs a foot apart. Ros would have enjoyed being a fly on their wall.
Alfonso had somehow spirited Janet away without anybody noticing. Tom found himself left with Jimmy and Melissa. Both, for different reasons, were looking shell-shocked. Tom grabbed a half empty bottle of champagne in its ice bucket. Alongside it, he found two clean glasses. He set it down on a side table with two chairs.
‘Here, you two, why not have a nightcap? I’m afraid I’ve got some work to do before tomorrow, so I can’t join you.’
They nodded vacantly and sat down as instructed. He tipped some champagne into the glasses.
‘Hey, Jimmy, why don’t you tell Melissa how you got the idea for your piece of writing?’ As he headed for the library, he heard Jimmy getting started.
‘To be honest, it was my flatmate’s idea first of all. He was trying to see if he could get away with pretending to be a woman.’
‘Why on earth would he want to do that?’ Melissa sounded curious, but Tom did not hang around to hear Jimmy’s reply.
His laptop was where he had left it. He opened it and waited for it to fire up. He looked at his watch. It was a quarter to eleven. It had taken him two hours to write the original piece. If all went well, he could be upstairs by one o’clock. His problem was now going to be one of inspiration. He was so totally obsessed by the beautiful girl on the other side of the secret door. Somehow, whatever other storyline he tried to develop, her face and body came floating through.
He sat there, staring at the blank screen. His head was full of so many thoughts, so many memories. He saw himself with Diane, back in the very early days. They were walking along the Embankment after a visit to one of the galleries. Without a word, she reached over and caught his hand, and held it. It had all started from that moment. The excitement of that touch had illuminated his whole being. Now, with Ros, he felt the same sensation. Part of him felt a sense of guilt. The other part of him rejoiced.
He started and restarted four or five times. By midnight he had already written and deleted the best part of a thousand words, and he was still stuck with a blank page. The thought of Ros upstairs, waiting for him, spurred him on. He gritted his teeth and started yet again.
‘Do you want to go to the bathroom first this time?’ Penny’s voice sounded reassuringly normal.
Scott was feeling apprehensive. It had been an excellent meal and a fun evening. The fact that every time he had turned towards Penny, his eyes had been drawn deep into her décolleté, had proved an extra thrill. Now, as he locked the bedroom door and she closed the curtains, things had suddenly got more serious.
‘Um, yes. Fine.’ He grabbed the washbag with his toothpaste and brush, and headed into the bathroom. He cleaned his teeth, used the toilet and then, on impulse, he jumped into the shower. When he came out, he took one of the fluffy white bathrobes off the back of the door and put it on. He tied the belt with a reef knot.
He returned to the bedroom. She was cleaning off her make-up at the dressing table. She was still fully clothed. This did not, however, make the situation between them any clearer. He made an ostentatious show of pulling out his pyjamas and laying them on the bed. He waited for her to go into the bathroom, so he could put them on.
‘What side of the bed do you want?’ Her voice still sounded normal.
He hoped he radiated calm as he replied. ‘Either. I think gentlemanly etiquette requires the man to occupy the position nearer the door so as to repel boarders. Shall I take that side?’
‘Fine by me. It’s so good to go to bed with a true gentleman.’ She flicked on the bedside lamp and switched off the main light. There was a momentary flash as she opened the bathroom door, and then it closed behind her. He slipped off the robe and pulled on his pyjamas, casting anxious glances over his shoulder, in case she should re-emerge unexpectedly. He threw the robe onto a chair and climbed into bed. His whole being was concentrated on the sounds coming from beyond the bathroom door.
There was the noise of the toilet flushing. He found himself holding his breath, waiting for the bathroom door to open. After a full minute of silence, he suddenly heard the shower begin to run. Only then did he realise he had forgotten to breathe. He gasped in a few mouthfuls of air.
The shower suddenly stopped running. In his mind’s eye he could visualise her stepping out of the shower, towelling her naked body. He gulped. How things had changed in the few weeks since the advent of this erotic novel. Two whole years he had lived alongside Penny. Two years he had paraded occasional girlfriends past her without a thought. They had sat in the kitchen in pyjamas together. He knew virtually every article in her wardrobe from bras to jeans, from seeing them hanging around the flat. And now he was crouched in bed, his penis so terrified it had shrunk to the size of a slug, waiting to see if she wanted to have sex with him.
He heard the bathroom light click off. The door opened. An intoxicating perfume floated into the room. He heard her walk to the bed. His, by now super-sensitive, hearing told him the bathrobe had dropped to the floor. He waited for sounds of a nightdress or pyjamas being pulled on. Instead, he felt the mattress move, as she slipped under the duvet. He gasped.
Ros climbed out of the bath. She took a clean towel and dried herself. She dabbed on a few drops of her favourite perfume. Not the one that bore her name on the label. She had never liked that one very much.
She brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth. She walked back into the bedroom and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. As she had done so many times over her life, she took a long, hard, critical look at her naked body. No longer as tight and firm as fifteen year ago, but nevertheless still passable. She opened her suitcase and hunted for the new underwear.
The black thong and bra set had cost more than any other underwear she had ever owned. The cost of lingerie seemed to rise in inverse proportion to the amount of material used in the manufacturing process. The squashed up thong occupied less space in the palm of her hand than a lipstick. She stepped into it and pulled it up her legs. She put her arms into the bra and clipped the front fastening. She gave both a little pull and a tug, and then subjected herself to another searching look. Satisfied with what she saw, she pulled out the packet of black stay-up stockings. She rolled them up her legs and smoothed out any creases. Next, it was the tight black skirt. She studied it critically. If she leant forward even a few inches, the tops of the stockings showed. Had she tried to bend down, her bottom would have been visible.
‘I think this definitely qualifies as ridiculously short,’ She murmured to herself, as she unfolded the grey Kenzo blouse. She pulled it on and buttoned it up, careful to leave the top buttons undone. A final check in the mirror and then she settled down on the bed to wait.
Tiffany stood under the shower, a plastic shower cap covering her hair. She tossed the disposable razor out towards the waste bin under the basin. To her surprise, it went straight in. She soaped herself and let the hot water clean her off. The powerful fan did a good job of clearing the steam. By the time she stepped out and towelled herself down, the mirror was clear. She pulled off the shower cap and brushed her hair.
She stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself. It was strange to see herself clean-shaven down there. This was something he had often suggested but the discomfort of stubbly regrowth had put her off. This was her treat to him. This weekend was special. She rubbed herself with body lotion from the collection of bottles on the shelf above the basin. A dab of the expensive perfume he had bought her for Christmas and she was almost ready.
Reaching into the holdall she had sneaked into the bathroom, she pulled out the other surprise for him. Not without difficulty, she squeezed into the sexy silk nightie she had bought earlier in the week. Another critical look at herself and she was ready.
‘Have you fallen asleep in there?’ He didn’t sound concerned. She could hear the anticipation in his voice. He knew this was going to be special.
‘Coming right out, darling.’