A Summer of Secrets

by Lorna Peel

  “If you want to go straight home I don’t mind.”

  A glimmer of disappointment crossed his face. “Have you ever been to the Central Art Gallery?” he asked. “They’ve got a landscapes exhibition on.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “We’ll go, then?”

  She smiled and nodded, relieved that he didn’t want to go home yet and get her out of his sight. The meal was delicious and she had to turn down his offer of dessert.

  “We’ll have a coffee and something with a million calories in it later, then,” he suggested.

  She laughed. “You’re on.”

  At the gallery, he brought her straight through to the landscapes exhibition. “Choose a favourite,” he whispered.

  Slowly, she circled the room then sat down beside him on the bench in the centre of the room.

  “That one.” She pointed to a painting to their left.

  “Why that one?” he asked.

  “I like the clouds. They’re like the clouds up on the moors.”

  He nodded. “They are.”

  “So, which is your favourite?”

  He smiled. “That one.”

  “It’s not?” she replied.

  “It is. It’s like lying on your back up on the moors and seeing nothing but sky. Shall we go on and see something else?”

  She nodded and they went into the next room. Of course, the first painting they saw was that of a nude woman.

  “Do you think I was wrong to pose for those photographs?” she asked him bluntly.

  He gave a brief frown then shook his head. “It was up to you, but thankfully they weren’t gratuitous. They gave you the corset, didn’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s beautifully made. There are corsets and the like in a trunk in the attic but nothing like that one. Was it very uncomfortable?”

  “No, not really, but I wasn’t wearing it for very long.”

  “So something like this wouldn’t embarrass you, then?” He gestured to the painting.

  “No, I’m not a prude. She doesn’t look very comfortable, though. I hope she didn’t have to pose like that for too long at a time.”

  “No, could have caught her death of cold,” he murmured and they moved on.

  When they returned to the car it was starting to get dark.

  “Stephanie’s credit card has probably gone into meltdown,” he said and started the engine.

  “As long as she enjoys herself. Retail therapy can work wonders.”

  The car wound its way across the moors in the dark until it slowed.

  “What the…?” Heaton muttered as it ground to a halt.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure. What the…? There’s no petrol? I filled up only yesterday.” He threw open the door, went to the boot, and lifted out a torch. She got out and watched as he got down on his hands and knees, switched the torch on and pointed the beam under the car. “Doesn’t seem to be a leak or anything. Could you steer while I push the car onto the verge?”

  When the car was safely on the grass verge, he extracted his phone from his jacket’s inside pocket. In the dark, she heard him swear.

  “The battery must be dead. Do you have one?”

  “Yes.” She opened her bag and took out the corset, passed him her phone, then put the corset back. He sighed. “What?” she asked.

  “Yours isn’t working either.”

  “But I charged it last night. Turn the torch back on.” He did as he was told and she opened the back. The sim card was gone. “Open yours.”

  He opened his but with the same results.

  “For fuck sake, Stephanie.” He swore viciously. “We’re bloody miles from anywhere.”

  “She stole the petrol from the car?” Sophia asked in disbelief.

  “She probably fluttered her eyelashes at someone to syphon it out. I am so sorry about this.”

  “I hate being without contact with Dad. That’s why I gave him the office and house numbers.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, do we stay here or do we start walking?” she asked.

  “We’re miles from anywhere. It’s probably best to stay here.”

  “Okay,” she replied apprehensively.

  “Christ, I hope Des sets the burglar alarm otherwise there’ll be nothing left anywhere.”

  “I’m sure he will,” she said.

  “The camcorder is still in the drawing room and will probably be found now. We’d better stay in the car, it’s getting cold.” They got in and he turned to her. “The rug is on the back seat. I hope it will be warm enough.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “If we’re going to be here all night, it does. Stephanie is going to end up living in a tent on the front lawn for this.”

  That made her smile. “She means well.”

  “She just has all the tact of a herd of stampeding buffalo. Are you cold?”

  “Well, I’ve been warmer,” she admitted.

  “Why don’t you stretch out on the back seat?” he suggested.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine here. I’ll keep an eye out in case there’s a car.”

  She climbed into the huge back seat and pulled the rug over her. That was a bit better. If only he’d sit still, the leather squeaking and groaning was making an awful racket.

  “Look,” she said a few minutes later. “There won’t be any cars up here at this hour.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “That you get out and sleep on the bonnet, it might be still warm.”

  “What?”

  “That was a joke.” She sighed. “I’m freezing; you must be too, and you’re obviously uncomfortable and I’m not going to get any sleep with all that noise the leather is making. So what I recommend is,” she began, “that…” She took a deep breath and continued in a rush, “That you come and join me here on the back seat.”

  Silence.

  After what seemed like a century, she heard the leather on the driver’s seat squeak and groan for a final time as he got out of the car. He closed the driver’s door, and opened the back door, before getting into the back and sitting beside her on the Jaguar’s back seat.

  He still hadn’t spoken and she squirmed. “It that better?” she squeaked.

  He stretched out and sighed. “Yes, much better. Lean back against me.”

  She did and he pulled the rug over them then put his arms around her. It was all non-sexual so far but then she felt his hands around her waist as he pulled her into him so she moulded into his body. She lay there, trying desperately to ignore the sexual tension building volcano-like between them.

  “Warmer now?” he whispered and she felt his breath on the back of her neck.

  “Yes,” she whispered back. “You?”

  She felt him laugh. “Thank you, yes. So you enjoyed the day?”

  She laughed this time. “Yes, I did. And if I embarrassed you this morning, then, I’m sorry.”

  “Embarrassed me? No, not at all. Shocked me, yes. Frightened me, yes.” He exhaled a long sigh. “When you emerged from behind that screen,” she felt him shake his head, “you looked incredible. And that shocked and frightened me – how every time I see you, you look even more beautiful than the time before.”

  She opened her mouth to say, “Oh,” but nothing came out.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve embarrassed you now.”

  She shook her head vehemently and he sneezed.

  “Sorry,” she croaked and he laughed.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  In the distance, she saw the headlights of an approaching car and felt him tense.

  “Do you want me to get out?” he asked softly.

  “No,” she whispered and he relaxed.

  They watched the car pass them.

  “You do know that I’ve been in love with you ever since you walked into the library that afternoon, don’t you?” he said.

  She swall
owed. “Yes. So why didn’t you say or do something? While you were sober, I mean?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “I’m a member of staff, as you kept reminding me.”

  He sighed. “Well, it’s not as though you’re a serving wench currently in favour with the master, like in one of Stephanie’s appalling historical novels. I’m not going to use you then cast you aside But I was worried. What if I had made what you saw as a pass at you and you didn’t reciprocate it? I mean, what happened in the graveyard…those emails…Steph’s flat… That’s why I had to write that bloody awful letter. I can’t afford to go to a tribunal. I’m absolutely amazed that there wasn’t a tribunal.”

  “There won’t be any tribunals,” she told him. “Ever.”

  She felt him give a little smile.

  “No-one’s dared speak to me the way you have.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  He spluttered a laugh. “Oh, God, yes. No-one else has told me that I work too hard, that I need my eyes tested, that I need to get some sleep. No-one else is worried that I’m back smoking cigarettes. I hope that it’s because you care.”

  “You know that it’s because I care about you. I love you.”

  He exhaled a long breath. “It’s been a long, long time since I’ve felt like this and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me. I’ve worked so hard that there just hasn’t been time for relationships so if that is what you want, you’ll have to have patience with me.”

  “I’ll be patient,” she said softly and she felt him smile again.

  She felt his hands on her waist as he turned her around so that she was sitting on his legs. He kissed her, gently at first, pulling at her lips with his, then more intensely, harder and harder until it almost hurt.

  “I thought you wanted me to be patient?” she asked.

  “Sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, there’s something I need to know.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, the small question of what do I call you?”

  He laughed. “Thomas. Just Thomas. It’s never been shortened.”

  “Well, hello, Thomas, I’m Sophia.” He laughed before pulling her towards him for another kiss. “Still going to exile Stephanie to the front lawn?”

  “I should do, but…”

  For a while they were content just to kiss, then, he slid his hands down her back until they reached her buttocks and he pulled her close against him. She felt his hands slide under her jacket, under her top and up her back until they reached her bra.

  “Undo it,” she whispered.

  He fumbled a little with it before pulling her jacket, top and the bra off then lifted her close to him again. She closed her eyes, gasping as his lips found and pulled at her nipples. She began to moan and couldn’t stop. His mouth returned to her lips and he kissed her until she was disorientated.

  His hands explored her upper body before stopping at her jeans.

  “Undo them,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I have a packet of condoms in my bag.”

  “I have condoms in my wallet.” She felt his arm brush her breasts as he reached into his jacket’s inside pocket to retrieve the wallet. She heard him fumble with it and felt his arm again as he returned the wallet to his jacket. “Okay.”

  “Good. Undo my jeans.”

  He felt for and undid the button, lowered the zip, and she struggled out of them and her panties. If she hadn’t wanted him so much it would have been hilarious. She heard him grunt impatiently as he battled with his own clothes and the condom before reaching for her hips.

  In the cramped space and pitch black, she needed his hands to guide her as she straddled and sank down onto him. Any self-consciousness and embarrassment was quickly forgotten. She exhaled a long breath as she felt him fill her while he gave a soft grunt of pleasure. She lifted herself then slowly slid back down onto him, feeling his hot breath on her breasts as he gasped. Slowly, she lifted herself again, trying to memorise every second. Lowing herself onto him, he groaned, his breath beginning to quicken, and he tried to lift his hips in an effort to dictate the pace. She ground her pelvis against him, forcing him back down onto the seat. She moaned as her own breath and pace began to accelerate. Waves of pleasure washed over her. She cried out as he made a low, inarticulate noise deep in his throat and, clasping her face in his hands, lowered it to his own. When their mouths met in the darkness it was, for her, simply exquisite.

  “So much for patience,” he panted and she felt him laugh. “Thank God my father wasn’t a Mini enthusiast.”

  “What’s your bed like?” she asked, her fingers locating and undoing his shirt buttons.

  “Big,” he replied as her hands began to explore his chest.

  “Not a four poster?” she added as his hands slid under her breasts. He lifted them and she exhaled as his tongue began to lap one nipple and then the other.

  “Like that?” he whispered and she murmured in agreement. “No, it’s not a four poster. I did sleep in the four poster once, though. When I say sleep, it was more a case of trying to find a spot in the mattress with no lumps. And failing. No, I have a modern bed.”

  “For the odd time you sleep there and not in the office,” she teased then gasped as he ran his thumbs over her taut nipples.

  “It will be more than the odd time now,” he said, allowing her breasts to gently drop, and ran his hands up her back. “You’re cold…”

  “Mmm.” She climbed off him and somehow they managed to dress.

  She slept seated between his legs, his arms around her tightly. When she woke it was bright outside. She climbed slowly out of the car and stretched then looked back inside. He peered at her bleary-eyed before stretching.

  “What time is it?” he asked and she glanced at her watch.

  “Just after eight.”

  “Ms Nelson?” he began and her heart sank.

  “Yes?”

  “The next time I lick your nipples, I really want to be able to see what I’m doing.”

  She stared at him for a moment then he grinned and she laughed in relief.

  “Want to keep an eye out for a car or shall we live here permanently and enjoy nights like that every night?” he added.

  “Hmm.” She pretended to mull it over. “Well, actually, I want to see this bed of yours. Not that I’m saying that last night wasn’t good.”

  He smiled and got out. “It’s still cold, here.” He draped the rug around her shoulders. “I also want to see you in that corset again,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her neck.

  “I need help with it.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  Half an hour passed until a Royal Mail van pulled up and the driver agreed to take Thomas to the next village to get petrol. An hour later they were on their way home.

  Pulling up in the stable yard, he put a hand on her knee. “I’m going to nip across to see Des, make sure everything’s all right, then I’m going to see Stephanie. Pretend that nothing’s happened? That you’ve just come back from a walk?”

  She smiled. “This I have to see.”

  Stephanie opened the door to them and smiled nervously. “Thomas? Where the hell have you been?”

  “In a garage. There was something wrong with the car so I sent Ms Nelson home on the bus. You got home all right?”

  Stephanie looked dumbfounded. “Yes, fine.”

  “Did you buy much?” Sophia asked.

  “A pair of shoes…you?”

  “Nothing but I was so tired that I fell asleep in an armchair. I must go for a shower. What was wrong with the car?” she asked Thomas.

  “Leak in the petrol tank.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “Yes, it had the potential to be. Must get my phone repaired now. Or should I get a new one?” he asked Stephanie. “You know all about these things.”

  “Well, you have had it a while,” she said and he nodded. Stephanie looked
him up and down. “Where did you sleep?”

  He smiled and Sophia began to smile, knowing that he was about to put his sister out of her misery.

  “Stephanie, do you believe absolutely everything I tell you?”

  “Well…I…what do you mean?”

  “I mean, from now on, the Jag is going to be locked in the garage and if you want to go anywhere you’ll just have to get the bus. Have you any idea how cold it was last night? If Sophia and I hadn’t kept each other warm I really don’t know what might have happened.”

  Stephanie stared at him then the penny dropped. “Oh, my God.”

  “And now, could we please have our sim cards back?”

  Stephanie grinned. “Only if you come in and let me cook you both breakfast? I suppose it’s the least I can do?”

  “It is.” He took Sophia’s hand and they went inside. “So we want smoked salmon and caviar at the very least.”

  “Look, I’m sorry.” Stephanie turned. “But I just didn’t know what the hell else to do to give you both a kick up the backside and just get the hell together.”

  “Hmm.” Thomas held out his hand. “Sim cards? Sophia doesn’t like being out of contact with her father.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I never thought.” Stephanie ran to her bag and extracted the two sim cards from her purse.

  “Thanks.” Sophia took her sim card and put it back in her phone. Switching it back on she was relieved to see that there were no missed calls. “It’s okay.”

  “Scrambled eggs? Poached eggs? Boiled eggs? I’m afraid I’ve only got eggs.”

  “Scrambled eggs?” Sophia looked at Thomas, who raised his head from his own phone and nodded. “And coffee, please.”

  “Dare I ask how you kept warm?”

  “No,” Thomas replied lightly but firmly. “But suffice to say it worked.”

  “At bloody last.”

  As Sophia stood at the front door that afternoon, a hand suddenly rested in the small of her back. “Need the tranquilliser gun?” a voice whispered in her ear and she smiled.

  “What, just in case? Where am I supposed to hide it, just in case?”

  He laughed. “Everything is fine, nothing missing as far as I can tell. See you later.”

  “That is a man in love,” a large American woman told her categorically. “You lucky girl.”

  I know. “Thank you.”