Objects of Desire (16 page)

He had always known what she was and was not to him, and it had been to his credit that he had never allowed her to become a house slave. She never had to
clean and cook for him nor play valet in exchange for his keeping her in style. The sexual favours? That had always been a tricky one, though less tricky when after a few months they realised that was what kept them together. All the rest was trimmings.

They lived separate lives and had a life together, and that suited him. Sally came and went as freely as he did. There had been many times during their life together when he had extended invitations and she had accepted to go with him on some of his expeditions or adventures. When he had climbed the Eiger, she had watched him through a telescope from a hotel in the valley and waited for him to return. She partnered him in a motor race of vintage cars through five countries. And if she didn’t go with him she was always waiting where he’d told her to be. But there were other times when he was away without her for months on end: his expedition up the Amazon, or the year he entered the Whitbread Round the World Race, to come in second. The years of Sally just being there slipped by.

Often when he was away he would forget that she existed, and yet at other times, such as when he made a camel trek across the Sahara, he had dreamed about her. For days afterwards he had thought about her, how he spoiled her, and how much she enjoyed it. He thought of her lunching with the girls and the shopping and waiting for him to return, how she had ambitions for nothing more. What a boring life she led, and how happy she was with the life she had made for
herself, and he was pleased for her. But out in the desert that night she suddenly became a cause for concern when he saw that they had nothing in common, not even love.

It had been during that same night, under a sky black and silky-looking, not unlike silk velvet, and studded with millions of bright stars, that memory brought his mother back and he remembered how she had been with Sally. She had liked the same things in Sally that he had: her lack of guile, simplicity, self-awareness. Lady Elspeth befriended Sally. It was she who sent her to Winkfield to learn flower arranging, she who by example taught Sally the manners expected in upper-class circles, but never by instruction. His mother had chosen to sit on the lawn and drink with Sally and Piers’s sister Caroline during her last days when pain had been her constant companion.

That night all sorts of memories came flooding back to him. How proud he had been to have Sally Brown standing with the family at his mother’s open grave. And then later, after his father’s death when he had inherited the title and Chalfont which he had always adored and had now become the centre of his world, Sally had taken up residence with him as she had done in London, remaining in the background of his life.

Now, sitting in the car awaiting her return, he remembered that extraordinary night in the desert where he had felt closer to God than ever before. The past had flooded in and the future had somehow presented itself as a blank. When new beginnings
became something essential, like a new dawn.

There was an inch or so of ash on the end of his cigar. Very carefully he deposited it in the ashtray, and sighed. He felt such relief that Sally was still inside the hotel with those women. The rest was up to her. He felt a sudden surge of elation at being free from Sally; at their, each of them, being able to get on separately with new people, and intimate relationships governed by love.

Piers gave the doorman a message for Sally and walked away from the Connaught to Berkeley Square and then up Bruton Street heading for his club. He kept looking at the attractive women passing by, and each time he registered some interest in one, it brought a smile to his lips.

Women. There had been so many lovely women in his life, even during the years he had lived with Sally. But never when he was in England. In England she had been there, ever present and satisfying. The other women were in other places: all sorts of women, objects of his desire, mini affairs and one-night stands and call girls. He had never been averse to paying for sexual favours: an elegant and expensive prostitute who guaranteed great sex – why not? His was a voracious appetite for women. Not a man who thought about love or romance, yet he was a romantic.

He had a penchant for the exotic and the erotic in women, but women such as that jarred the emotions, signalled involvement, something that took time and
energy and reached into the core of his being. Something to flirt with but to be cautious with, on guard against, because that was the sort of woman he could give himself up to, reveal himself to. He had always shied away from relationships that might develop into commitment of the heart and soul, ones where he might not be in control, hold the power and the passion. Not yet. He was not ready, too promiscuous, too hungry for new and exciting sex – and he had Sally Brown waiting at home.

Walking down St James’s a woman dropped a parcel and he bent down and picked it up for her. Their eyes made contact. She had the same colour hair as Page Cooper. She thanked him and rushed away. Page Cooper was that sort of erotic woman, sensuous and as liberated sexually as he was. A man can sense that in a woman. The other woman, Anoushka Rivers, he had for a few seconds tuned into. There was a woman he would like to discover, peel away the layers she was hiding behind. He sensed she was a woman with a sexual secret and he would have liked to discover it.

Piers had always seen women as no less interested in all things sexual than he was himself. Most only pretended differently, and enjoyed it in various degrees as their right as much as his. Sally and sex … There had always been something about Sally and sex for him. He had but to look at her and lust came into it. He liked fucking Sally. Her enthusiasm for sex was there and though she could lose herself in it, after a few years he understood that it was for Sally as
superficial as the rest of her life. Good, great for him, was what seemed to matter to her. After that discovery, he wondered just how much sex really mattered to Sally, but not enough to speak to her about it.

What had made life so easy with her had been that she didn’t love Piers for himself but for the good times they had together, because he had added so much to her life. That was what made her wanting to marry him and have his children so impossible, so unworthy of her. It was also what made him realise he was yet to have a love relationship with commitment that was worth building on.

SALLY BROWN

Chapter 10

Anoushka and Page watched Sally Brown cross the room and make direct for their table. Having met her lover, she was not at all what they expected. Though neither woman said anything, the look that passed between them sent out that message.

‘Disappointing?’ mumbled Page under her breath. But before Anoushka could whisper her impression, Sally spoke to them with a smile that was friendly, sweet even.

‘Hello, I’m Sally Brown, here about the ad in the
International Herald Tribune
.’

There seemed little to do but ask her to join them, though Page thought it a waste of time. This girl on face value did not seem to be someone she wanted to spend any time with.

‘I’m Page Cooper. You’re very late but do sit down. Are you habitually late?’

‘Yes, I would say so,’ she answered, not looking at all contrite for having kept Page waiting.

‘They say that’s indicative of something.’

‘More or less indicative than being always punctual?’

Touché
, thought Page. Anoushka put out her hand and Sally Brown took it and smiled at her. ‘I’m Anoushka Rivers.’

‘Champagne cocktails, that will do me just fine,’ Sally told Page, and turned to call a waiter.

Page stopped her with a hand on her arm and said, ‘No, please let me.’

Sally seemed comfortable with them, almost as if the three were friends. Hers was a pleasant manner, winning even. Page realised she was an uncomplicated person. With Sally Brown, what you saw was what you got. Page’s first impression of her changed.

‘Placing that ad in the
Tribune
was a brave and generous thing to do, Page. I can call you Page, can’t I?’ Before she could answer, Sally continued. ‘And very like an adventuress. I’ve been thinking about it ever since Piers brought it to my attention. Why would a woman do that?’

‘You wouldn’t have?’ asked Page.

‘No, never in a million years. Not from choice.’

‘But you’re assuming I had a choice.’

‘Oh, you didn’t?’

‘I didn’t think so. It occurred to me that there were other women out there like myself who feel, as I do, that they have to strike out for a new life, different and exciting, to add to the lives I’ve already created for Page Cooper thus far. I had objectives. I’d accomplished them all, save one, and was rewarded with many successes. The realisation of success has to be ultimate happiness,
the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I’m a treasure hunter out on the hunt. A rocky road to travel, hence the ad. Like minds on a great adventure was something I thought was called for.’

‘To live anew and find the missing pieces, or those lost to us through our own or others’ carelessness – now that is a big adventure. One might even call it a challenge,’ said Anoushka.

‘How are you answering this ad, Sally, with hope or despair?’

‘Reluctantly, is the honest answer. I like where I’ve been, what I’ve done, my lifestyle. I don’t want any more than that, but change has been foisted upon me.’

‘It seems that I’m the only one of the three of us who has voluntarily walked away from one lifestyle to seek another. I must have been very unhappy.’

‘You sound as if you didn’t know it, Page.’

‘I didn’t. I was having a wonderful life. I had everything and every man I ever wanted.’ There was a naughty glint in her eye. Neither Anoushka nor Sally missed it and for a moment they envied her, though neither woman had ever wanted a man other than the one they had been committed to. Until Page added, ‘Save for one thing, and that loss I buried so deep I thought it was forgotten.’

‘Life’s just a bugger,’ said Sally.

The conversation halted. The women remained quiet, sipping their drinks. Finally it was Page who said, ‘I can’t remember how many of these cocktails
I’ve had but I do know I daren’t have another, and I’m famished.’

‘Join me for dinner, both of you. I’m meeting some girlfriends for Chinese. It’ll be my treat.’

‘You have dinner with girlfriends? You have girlfriends?’ asked a surprised Anoushka.

‘Dinners and lunches and tea and drinks. Have I got girlfriends! They’re my life, my fun. Don’t you have girlfriends?’ Sally looked genuinely astonished when both women said simultaneously, ‘No.’

Page added, ‘I’ve always preferred men friends.’

‘And I had my husband and my marriage, I didn’t need friends.’

‘Boy, have our lives been different!’ said Sally.

‘I’ve never travelled with women before. I’m suddenly a little apprehensive but maybe because we’re so different we’ll get along,’ said Page.

‘I’ve travelled with a woman, many times, but that hardly counts. My husband and I allowed her to join us, friend of the family and all that. Some friend! She’s sleeping in my bed now.’ Tears welled up in Anoushka’s eyes. ‘I’m not sure I’m going to get over this. What kind of a travelling companion will I make with such a mess of a life as I have?’

‘Everybody’s got something, Anoushka,’ Sally told her.

She lowered her eyes and tried to bring herself under control. Sally rose from her chair to go to Anoushka and sit down next to her. She placed an arm round her shoulders. ‘You’re not alone. We’ll be there
for you when you’re having one of those deep-darkies – that’s what I call the blues.’ And she looked past Anoushka to Page and smiled at her.

Without realising it the three women had made an alliance. Page raised her glass and so did Anoushka and Sally. ‘New horizons,’ was her toast.

‘I suppose it would cause a scandal if we smashed the glasses on the floor?’ said Sally.

‘It seems as if this is a momentous occasion and we should do something dramatic, but getting thrown out of the Connaught … no, I don’t think that’s it,’ said Page, suddenly quite excited about taking off with these women.

‘We could go shopping.’

‘The shops are closed at this hour, Sally.’

‘We could hire a hit man to shoot my husband,’ said Anoushka, not a trace of a smile on her face.

‘Not a good idea. Just keep imagining he’s dead. It’s a safer bet,’ was Sally’s advice.

‘I wish there was a bordello for women. That’s what men would do. Celebrate with a great night of booze and sex in some grand whore house.’ There were looks of surprise on Anoushka and Sally’s faces. Or was it shock? Could it be that Page’s travelling companions were no more liberated sexually than they were from the men who had finished with them and thrown them into the arena of women without men.

‘You mean, pay for sex?’ asked Sally.

‘You have heard of gigolos?’

‘Yes, of course, but not for me, Page. Not even for
one night of fun in a male whore house, if there is such a thing. I’m the one who likes to be rewarded in the game of sex. Have you ever paid a man for a fuck, Page?’

‘Sally, really! That’s a very personal question,’ said Anoushka.

‘Oh, we’re not supposed to ask personal questions? If that’s one of the ground rules, we have a problem. I’m always asking personal questions. Friends do that, you know. Ask
and
confide in each other.’

‘Ask away, Sally. I think we should accept that we can ask each other anything, confide anything, but not to have to answer. Ground rules? I haven’t thought about that nor do I want to. Let’s just make them up as we need them, if we ever do need them.’

‘That sounds good to me,’ said Sally. And both women looked at Anoushka.

‘I guess I can live with that. I may have overreacted, Sally. I’m not used to people being so direct with me. I just assumed that everything in my new life would continue as it always has, all politeness and subtlety. Intimacy locked away in some cupboard to be taken out on the right occasion.’

‘Good,’ said Sally, and Page nodded her approval. And the three women smiled and felt very pleased with themselves. There was a feeling that they would get on.

‘There are a few things I would like to make clear – not ground rules, simply how I feel about our travelling together, and the marked difference
between us. I may have placed the ad in the paper, have been the motivating force that has brought us together, but my responsibility for the three of us and our travels ends right here. There will be no leader of the pack. If there was it wouldn’t work for us. We should be open with one another, discuss things, and make unanimous decisions. That makes things easy.’

‘Sounds right to me. What about you, Sally?’ asked Anoushka.

‘Fine, seems OK.’

‘There’s one thing that is markedly different about us.’

‘I’m certain as we get to know each other we’ll find many,’ said Anoushka.

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ said Page. ‘But the one that is important for us to remember right from the start, so we understand each other’s view point, is one that I have observed already. We three are going on this odyssey and only one of us is making this voyage without anguish, and that’s me.

‘From the little said here this afternoon, and what I deduced from having met you in Paris, Anoushka, the chief reason for your and Sally’s anguish is your difficulty in facing the end of a relationship, and your lives as you have known them for many years. I have more to say but if this is too personal for either one of you, I’ll stop now.’

‘What you say is true in my case, anyway,’ said Anoushka.

‘Why don’t you say what you have to say, Page?’ suggested Sally.

‘I’ve been where you girls are now. It’s going to take time and a great deal of work to rid yourselves of your anguish. It did me. I no longer desperately want everything to continue as it is, and so I no longer have to believe that things will always stay the same. That’s make believe. Things don’t stay the same. You may believe that your lives should have stayed the same with the men you loved, but believing it has little or nothing to do with reality. Girls, you built your lives on make-believe, with its misinformation, idea and assumptions. Oh, my god, those lethal assumptions! Do I know about them. Those are rickety foundations on which to build. Do we take notice of the truth which keeps interrupting our dream of forever? Oh, no. No matter how much the truth keeps breaking in we keep up our pretence that nothing will ever change. We keep on going with hopeless bravado to hold on to what we have, never wanting change or to disrupt our perfect worlds.’

‘Why do you think we do that, Page?’ asked Anoushka.

‘Because you, just as I once did, always think of changes as signalling loss and suffering. And when they happen, these changes, as in this case, you two out on your own after a long time of belonging to someone, you try and anaesthetise yourself as far as it is possible. Take my word for it, that doesn’t work.’

‘Then what does?’ asked Sally.

‘You have to grow up and stop assuming that permanence provides security. You have to accept that impermanence is the reality of life. Men seem to understand that better than women. Impermanence is about the only thing you can hold on to. That’s what I believe and that’s the way I live. I’ve stopped clinging to things and people. Everything I have done in the past is like a dream to me. I keep leaving things behind. Now, this moment, is real to me, but in a few minutes it will be a memory.

‘I have compassion for what you girls are having to deal with, but thought it best to speak out now so that you can understand where I’m coming from since it’s a very different place to where you are.’

At that moment Anoushka could not help but think of how dazzled she had been on first meeting Page Cooper. How, having expressed it to Hervé, he had agreed that she was indeed a very special lady with whom men fell in love though they could not possess. She was once again dazzled by Page, her looks, her seductive charm, and now the very core of this new friend’s being. Page had been right to say something because it made clear to Anoushka something that had been a mystery: why she had given Hervé to Anoushka, and more importantly why Anoushka had had the courage to go off with a stranger for an afternoon of lovemaking. Page now understood Anoushka, had zeroed in on her because she had once been where Anoushka was still stuck. She had been saying to Anoushka, ‘Live now, this moment.’

Sally Brown kept looking at Page. She had found her incredibly beautiful and sophisticated, but as she had been speaking, Sally understood what Piers had meant when he said that she would like Page Cooper. Here was a woman who spoke from the heart, lived from the heart. She was more like Piers than anyone Sally had ever met. How Page must have suffered, what tremendous loss and pain she must have felt in her life to have fought back to live in a world of impermanence and like it. Sally admired her for what she was but more so for her honesty. She knew that she would never live on the same plane that Page did but it didn’t matter. They would be friends, respect each other for their differences. That, after all, had been what Page had been saying. Sally found a new enthusiasm for this odyssey she was about to embark on. Somehow she sensed this was the best afternoon of her life.

Heads turned when Anoushka, Sally and Page entered the Chinese restaurant. Theirs were such contrasting beauties: Page’s sophisticated, seductive look with its hard edge of excitement; Anoushka, fair-skinned and with blonde, blonde hair, her sensuous body dressed down to appear a touch matronly; Sally with all the shine and sparkle of youth in chic clothing.

They of course had no idea how others viewed them. They joined Sally’s friends and enjoyed themselves. Having seen what a success their dinner was, and how much her friends liked Anoushka and Page, she took
courage and told them, ‘It’s over for Piers and me. He dumped me.’

Until that moment there had been a great deal of laughter and chatter. Page and Anoushka had found these young women to be amusing, pretty and fun. But Sally Brown was in a league of her own as somehow original and special. The other young women, with their upper-class accents, had received a better education and had good jobs. At Sotheby’s for one, as an interior decorator for another, and Lady Caldera was a charity organiser who, one imagined by her conversation, did her job between social engagements and beauty therapies of one sort or another. These girls, whose boyfriends or one husband had been in one way or another a friend of Piers, respected and had a deep affection for the girl who had never lost her Lancashire accent. If Anoushka and Page were friends of Sally’s that had been enough for the girls to accept them on their night out. They gossiped about their mutual friends, Binky and Bonky, Winkie and Wonkie, Pussy and Feeny, as if Page and Anoushka had known them all their lives. At one point Page asked, ‘Don’t any of your friends have real names?’