Misspent Youth (25 page)

“Where’s she gone?”

“She’s off to spend a few days with her boyfriend.”

“Her boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Who the fu—Do you know who he is?”

“I’m not sure. I know you used to be. This is somebody else.”

“What’s his name? Please, Mr. Goddard.”

“I don’t know. That’s strange. I’m sure she must have told me. But I don’t remember.”

“How long has she been seeing him?”

“Quite a while. Was it you she went to the Summer Ball with, or him?”

“Me. It was
me
.”

“Oh. Well it was about then.”

“The Summer Ball? She was seeing him back then?”

“I think so.”

“Oh my God.”

“She was really happy when she left. I couldn’t stop her, couldn’t say anything. She’s so beautiful when she’s smiling and excited like that. So full of joy. How could I ask her to stay? All I want is for her to be happy. I can’t stand in the way of that. My daughter is so wonderful. And he makes her happy. Shining, she was—”

“Fucking click, fucking end fucking call!”

S
INCE THE BALL.
Or even before the ball, if her stupid synth-head father was right.

I told you, she’s a real slut.
Simon’s exact words. Words Tim had nearly come to blows over. Simon claimed she’d slept with Derek, which at the time Tim was sure was his way of covering the fact that Annabelle had dumped him.

Now she’d gone to stay with her boyfriend. Was it Derek?

How could she?
She knew how much he loved her, how utterly devoted he was. How could she do such a thing? They’d been good together. Everyone said that. A great couple. He made her laugh. They had sex. Lots of sex. Hadn’t that meant anything to her? Hadn’t he meant anything to her?

Obviously not.

Tim curled up inside the globe chair, frightened that he was going to cry. Now she had someone else, she would never want him back. They’d moved in together. That meant they would spend every night together in bed. It had already begun.

The idea produced an actual physical pain in Tim’s head. It was so abhorrent. Nobody could love and appreciate her the way he did. Nobody.

He could finally realize why people did such stupid, crazy things when they lost someone they adored. There and then he couldn’t bear the notion of ever going back to Rutland, where he’d be near her every day, walking through places they’d been together. He could just as easily stay down in London with Mum, spend the summer sampling metropolitan life until university. That idea died as quickly as it was born. Mum had her new life, complete with her men; she was happy.

Maybe he should take that gap year Dad had offered him. The other side of the planet was probably the only safe distance to be right now.

T
HE SUMMER STORM CRAWLED NORTHWARD
across the placid azure sky, following some way behind the morning express train from London to Peterborough. Tim changed for the regional train to Stamford, then caught the bus back to Empingham. Thick black clouds were just beginning to fall over the lip of the southern horizon as the taxi carrying him and the Europol team pulled up in front of the manor; the air was heavy with the smell of ozone.

Lieutenant Krober was in the hallway when Tim walked in. “We didn’t expect you back for a few more days,” he said.

To Tim’s ears the Europol officer sounded strangely guilty. “Yeah, well, London didn’t work for me.”

“I see.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“I am not sure.”

“Not sure? You’re his bodyguard.”

“He has not gone out. He is in the manor. Perhaps working.”

Tim frowned at Krober, who was giving Natalie Cherbun a silent, frantic look. He marched into the living room. Dad wasn’t there, but a navy blue bikini halter was draped over the back of the white leather sofa. Tim stared at it, startled by how familiar it was, one of Stephanie Romane’s swimwear line. The big French doors were open, obviously used that morning. He went out onto the terrace to see if anyone was outside. Behind him he could hear Krober and Cherbun talking in low urgent voices. Nobody was in the garden. The pool was calm and flat, with a single inflatable ball floating in one corner of the deep end.

From somewhere above and behind him came the sound of a girl moaning hoarsely. Tim turned slowly to see that the veranda doors of his father’s bedroom were wide open. He wasn’t conscious of climbing up the iron spiral stairs from the terrace. The next thing he knew he was standing on the veranda while the storm’s precursor breeze stirred the louver blinds along the edge of the broad glass doors. There was another cry from inside the bedroom, sharper this time. A cold dread seeping through Tim’s body produced shivers down his arms and legs as he crept forward to the window frame. His face pressed up against the glass, allowing him to peer through the narrow gap between the blinds.

He was looking directly into Annabelle’s wide-eyed stare, though she seemed unable to see anything through her own rapture. She was kneeling on all fours in the middle of the four poster bed, oiled skin gleaming in the room’s rich lighting. Jeff was positioned behind her, hands gripping her hips, muscles straining as he pulled himself forward, grunting with the effort of penetration. Annabelle’s beautiful features suddenly contorted with a grimace of dirty glee, and she let out a long delighted wail.

The tableau rooted Tim to the spot. All he could do was watch in utter disbelief as his father fucked Annabelle barely three meters in front of him.

They went on and on. He was sure there was never going to be an end to it.

The image blurred. Tim blinked, not understanding what was happening. Then he saw big raindrops were splashing against the glass. The storm had arrived from the south, rolling across the sky to shroud the manor in darkness and thunder. Rain and tears mingled together as they trickled down his cheeks.

A
NNABELLE LAY ON THE MATTRESS
listening to her pounding heart as her body slowly calmed. The euphoria she’d experienced was still there, ebbing slowly. She could barely believe what he’d made her body do. But that was always the way with Jeff, each time a little further. Her own sexual curiosity was his greatest ally.

A hand stroked the side of her face as he smiled down. She lay there passively, reveling in the way his greedy eyes savored the sight of her. “Now it’s your turn to enjoy me,” he purred.

“Give me a minute,” she said, her breath still coming in shaky gasps.

He gently pulled her hand down to his erect cock. “This won’t wait.”

“How can you possibly still be hard after that?”

“That’s the effect you have on me.”

Annabelle raised her head up, pushing a slick tangle of hair from her face. She looked right into his eyes, experiencing a scary little thrill at how intent he was. After all they’d just done, he still wanted more of her.

And she’d thought last night had been pretty excessive. Once they’d gone up to bed, with the lights off and the big house’s silence engulfing them, it was as if they were the only two people in the whole universe. They’d celebrated with a furiously physical union.

Unlike Derek, who made hopeful suggestions, Jeff knew exactly what he wanted her to do. Any reticence on her part only seemed to excite him further. He showed her how the big bed with its sturdy posts could support her body in a whole variety of new contortions, each one deliberately lewd and sleazy. The oils he made her rub into her skin made her look sensational, and she knew it.

In the end, he was the one person in the world she gave up every inhibition for. She relished proving that commitment physically. Proving she was the best.

“We should go out and make love in the rain,” she suggested. It would be a sweet contrast to his earlier ferocity. From the middle of the bed she could see the drops splatter against the windows.

“Nice idea,” Jeff said. “Except, that’s not rain, it’s a bloody deluge.”

She snuggled back into him, enjoying the warmth and touch of his body. “Next time then.”

“Yes.” He caressed her hair. “Next time.”

She glanced over her shoulder as he ran a finger lightly down her flank, tracing the curve of her hip. There was an expression of gentle curiosity on his face, as if he’d never seen her before, never known how it felt to touch her skin. She loved that aspect of him, that he could be as kind as he could savage, always knowing the right time. “I spent the night with you,” she murmured in wonder. “The whole night.”

“And you’re going to spend tomorrow night here as well,” he said. “And the night after that.”

She smiled bravely, knowing that she’d have to go home then.

Jeff tightened his grip around her. “And when Tim comes back, I’m going to tell him that you’re here to stay now.”

“Jeff!” There was a small instinct that wanted to say no, that not enough time had passed to cushion the shock. But just looking at how serious he was quashed the urge. “Do you mean that?”

“Dead on. And I’m sober this time, too.”

She giggled, and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“I’m the one who benefits from this. You are the perfect male fantasy.”

“I know.” She grinned proudly, looking down at her breasts as she arched her back. “They are good, aren’t they?”

“The biggest and the best.” His tongue moistened one nipple before he started sucking.

She ran her hands over his chest, enjoying the supple play of his muscle. Then her fingers touched his cock; he was still erect. “God, you’re unbelievable.”

Jeff pulled away from her breast just long enough to chuckle contentedly.

“I mean it,” she said. “I’ve been with twenty-year-olds before. They’ve never managed to stay hard for so long.”

“I’m not twenty.” He switched from one breast to the other.

Despite herself, her body was responding; she moaned as indecent fingers started to massage her, sliding smoothly over oiled flesh.

There was a firm knock on the door. “Dr. Baker, sir?” It was Lieutenant Krober’s voice.

“He’s got to be fucking joking,” Jeff grunted.

The knock came again. “Dr. Baker, please, are you there?”

“What do you want?”

“Sir, I believe you should come downstairs, sir.”

“What the hell is happening?”

“Sir, it’s downstairs. Please.”

Annabelle pouted teasingly at the irritation on Jeff’s face. “You’d better go.”

“Bloody hell.” He took a deep breath and clambered off her. She started giggling profusely as he tried to tie the belt on his dressing gown. His erection refused to ease. He gave it an exasperated stare, and wound up holding one hand across his front, pressing his cock against his abdomen.

Annabelle squeaked in alarm as he stomped over to the door, just managing to pull the duvet over herself as he opened it. Lieutenant Krober was standing outside. Jeff had never seen the Europol officer so agitated.

“What’s the matter? Are we in the middle of some kind of terrorist attack?”

“Sorry, sir.” Krober was in no way looking through the bedroom doorway. “You should come downstairs.”

“Why?”

“Please. There is a situation there.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Jeff stomped off down the landing, with his hand still firmly covering his groin. His anger chilled rapidly as he started down the stairs. Voices were arguing heatedly in the hallway below. Tim was there, halfway across the black and white marble tiles.
Tim!
Jeff’s heart jumped in shock. His legs refused to move, imprisoning him on the middle of the stairs.

The boy’s shirt and trousers were soaking wet; rat-tail strands of hair fringed his forehead. He was attempting to carry a huge cylindrical canvas bag with a strap that kept slipping from his wet shoulder. His other hand was pulling at the extended handle of a big gray suitcase with tiny wheels. Natalie Cherbun was standing in front of him, halfheartedly blocking his progress.

“—no I won’t!” Tim yelled as he tried to barge past her. His luggage kept overbalancing, hampering his progress far more than the Europol officer.

At which point Lucy Duke came through the front door. She was out of breath from having run all the way through the village from the White Horse. Water dripped steadily off her black classic-cut raincoat. She started shaking out her umbrella, an act that suddenly halted when she took in the scene before her.

Tim shut up and glared at her. Then Lucy’s gaze lifted to Jeff. Tim’s body became very still. He slowly turned around. Jeff waited for his son to see him, knowing how a condemned man felt as the gallows loomed through the dawn mist.

The expression of anger and betrayal on his son’s face drained away the last of Jeff’s strength. “Look, son—”

Tim sneered at him. He’d never, ever done that before. Raged and sulked, yes. But this was so adult, so contemptuous that Jeff wanted to kneel down and beg forgiveness. Right there and then he would have handed Annabelle back if it was at all possible. An evil thought sprang up:
Why not? She does everything else I tell her to
. He pushed that away rapidly.

“Now, why don’t we all take a moment to think what we’re all doing,” Lucy Duke said with brittle calm.

“Fuck off, you stupid bitch!” Tim bellowed at her.

“I don’t think that’s very helpful, now is it?”

Jeff finally managed to get his legs moving again. He hurried down the last few stairs. “Tim, just wait up.”

Tim dropped the shoulder bag, and folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, this should be good. Go on,
Dad
, tell me why it doesn’t matter. Explain how we can all live happily ever after.”

“We were going to tell you.” Even before it came out, Jeff knew that was completely the wrong thing to say.

“Really?” Tim said with acid sweetness. “How were you going to tell me? Would I have to access it on your life site? ‘Hello folks, I am now pleased to announce that I am
screwing my son’s girlfriend
’?”

Jeff wanted to close his eyes, to cast the whole nightmare back into darkness. The way Tim was standing, his whole body quivering and moisture glinting in his eyes, Jeff couldn’t tell if he was going to burst into tears or simply go berserk and charge at him with a chainsaw. Natalie Cherbun was giving him a look of pure contempt, while Lucy Duke had tilted her head back in despair, no doubt calculating what kind of damage-limitation exercise was going to rescue this one. It was the only time Jeff had ever wanted to consult with her on anything.

Still
, he thought,
at least I know the worst of it now, that he saw everything. So that’s good
. A desperate laugh threatened to rise up his throat, one which would tail off into a crazed burble if he ever let it out. “What Annabelle and I do together is between us,” he said with false dignity. “We didn’t tell you about us because we didn’t want to hurt you. Tim, I know this is hard, but she’s not your girlfriend. She hasn’t been for a while now. We were going to let you get over the breakup, but we were going to tell you.”

“How long?”

“How long, what?”

“How long have you been screwing her, Dad?”

“Don’t, Tim, you’re only hurting yourself.”

“Night of the Summer Ball, wasn’t it?”

Jeff found Tim’s keen gaze slicing clean into him. He hadn’t thought it possible, but he was actually feeling even more wretched. His shoulders slumped in confession.

“Yeah,” Tim breathed, bitter with triumph. “You really waited, didn’t you, Dad. Does Annabelle know what a bastard you are?” He gave his head a brief shake, as if suddenly puzzled. “What am I saying? She’s as bad as you; I saw that clearly enough.” He picked up his shoulder bag, and gave Natalie Cherbun a very determined look. She sighed and stood to one side.

Tim walked across the hall, his big suitcase juddering and squeaking along behind him. Lucy Duke gave him an uncertain look.

“Please,” Tim snarled at her. “Try getting in my way.”

“Where are you going?” Jeff called.

“What the fuck do you care,
Dad
?”

“You haven’t even got a coat on. It’s pouring down outside.”

“So? I don’t catch cold.”

The dull certainty of his voice made Jeff draw in a gasp of surprise.
He can’t know that…
“Tim, you can’t just walk out. This is your home. Don’t be so melodramatic.”

Tim opened the front door. Raindrops swirled in, splattering on the marble around his feet. “That would be melodramatic as opposed to having an illicit affair? Did that make it more exciting for you both, Dad? Sneaking round behind my back.” A last contemptuous snort, and he closed the door.

Jeff put his head in his hands. “Oh, shit.” All he could think of was that he now had to go upstairs and explain to Annabelle. Then there would be a call to Sue. And—oh God—Alison.

Natalie Cherbun coughed discreetly.

“What?” he snapped at her.

She gave his waist a very pointed look. Jeff groaned in frustration, and pulled his robe over to cover his continuing erection.

Natalie Cherbun and Lucy Duke looked at each other.
And what must they be thinking?

“We should consider how to minimize the media interpretation of this,” Lucy Duke said.

“You can’t minimize a total fucking disaster, you—All right. Okay. Not now, all right? We’ll do press releases and site revisions later.” He got to the top of the stairs, then turned round. “Natalie, he probably respects you more than anyone else here right now. Could you go after him and give him a lift, please? Don’t stay with him afterward, just help him get there.”

“Very well.” She nodded shortly, then paused. “Where?”

“He’ll be going to his aunt Alison. And I know Tim, he’ll walk the whole bloody way there even in this rain.”

“I’ll get him.”

The bedroom door was closed. Jeff squared his shoulders, and opened it.