by Susan Lewis
Laurie’s eyebrows rose. ‘How much damage can be done in a twelve-foot sprint?’
‘I don’t think Andraya actually sprints,’ Rachel replied in a tone that made Laurie laugh. ‘But I wasn’t about to argue. She’s been up in my bedroom for over half an hour, and no-one but Chris is allowed in.’
‘Which is presumably where he is now?’
‘No. He’s over there, talking to Elliot. Have you seen the catalogue, by the way? They’ve done a fabulous job. There’s a pile of them on the coffee table. Take as many as you like and give them to as many rich people as you know.’
‘What are the paintings like?’
‘If you’re into surrealism, you’re going to love them. Think Dali, Kahlo, a bit of Kandinsky, but don’t quote me, as she likes to consider herself unique. Chris is absolutely blown away by her talent, and I have to confess, they work for me too. Utterly mesmerizing. Which is pretty much how I would describe the woman herself, when she’s not being a royal pain in the ass. And speaking of the devil …’
Laurie turned round, and was about to take another sip of champagne when her hand stopped mid-air and her eyes widened in surprise. ‘My God,’ she murmured, for Andraya Sorrantos, with her luxuriant black hair, sleepy dark eyes and wide, shiny mouth wasn’t just the quintessential Brazilian bombshell, she was the full-blooded embodiment of a true sex-goddess. Her skin was the colour of dark honey, her eyes glowed like amber, while her delectably wide, full lips oozed the kind of promise that could fulfil any man’s dreams.
‘Quite something, isn’t she?’ Rachel responded.
‘You’re not kidding,’ Laurie replied, experiencing more ripples of amazement as a brief gap in the crowd allowed her a full-length view. ‘Don’t they have vests in Brazil?’ she said, gazing at the gossamer-fine black top that clung tightly to the magnificent voluptuousness of two brazenly naked breasts.
Rachel chuckled. ‘Watch all the repressed Englishmen,’ she whispered. ‘When they’re talking to her their eyes won’t drop below chin level.’
Laurie watched as Chris went to greet her, and began introducing her round. ‘You’re right,’ she laughed. ‘Anywhere but. Oh my God, I swear old Robert Ryan isn’t just blushing, he’s actually trembling.’
‘A lot do.’
Laurie was transfixed. ‘I can’t wait to see how Elliot reacts,’ she murmured, casting a quick look in his direction. ‘Who’s that he’s talking to now?’
‘Felicity Barr. She’s a top QC, and second cousin to our estimable PM. Terrifying individual, reminds me of my old headmistress.’
‘And just how impressed is she going to be by Andraya’s little exhibition?’ Laurie couldn’t help wondering.
‘Andraya doesn’t care much what women think,’ Rachel informed her.
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’
Still fascinated, Laurie watched the Amazonian sex-goddess, who was almost as tall as Elliot, move from one guest to another, greeting them all with a deeply seductive smile, while stroking her glossy hair and licking those wickedly pouting lips. When she finally reached Elliot, his expression showed little more than politeness as he took the bejewelled fingers she was offering. He said something neither Laurie nor Rachel could hear, but whatever it was it made Chris chuckle and Andraya appear pleased. Her reply caused Elliot to smile as he dutifully brought her hand to his lips. His eyes, Laurie noticed, had resolutely remained above the chin.
‘Typical of Elliot not to be embarrassed,’ Rachel commented. ‘Chris is much the same, though I know he loves it. Show me a man who wouldn’t, and in Chris’s case he’s ecstatic, as it’s virtually guaranteed to get them all back for the real exhibition.’
‘It’ll get the press in too,’ Laurie said, wanting to laugh as Elliot winked in her direction.
The performance was so compelling that Laurie merely continued to watch, marvelling at the wonderful shamelessness of the woman whose breasts formed such truly delectable mounds of caramel flesh, with big maroon nipples protruding like plums from the peaks, that even Laurie could feel herself being turned on by them. Were they real? she wondered. They couldn’t be, for as stunning as Andraya was, she had to be at least forty, and the stupendously jutting pair now heading Laurie’s way seemed as impervious to gravity as their owner did to modesty.
‘Andraya,’ Rachel crooned, kissing the air either side of Andraya’s cheeks.
‘Rachel, such a lovely party,’ Andraya responded in an exquisitely accented drawl that Laurie could just hear Sherry describing as gallons of rich, dark chocolate pouring all over the naked genitals. ‘Such fascinating people.’
‘I want you to meet Laurie Forbes,’ Rachel said. ‘She’s a very good friend of mine.’
Andraya’s bewitching eyes slanted in Laurie’s direction. ‘You mean Laurie, of Elliot and Laurie?’ she murmured, raising an elegant hand. ‘Chris has told me about you. Are you not soon to be married?’
‘We are,’ Laurie replied, looking at the hand. Surely she didn’t expect her to kiss it! ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ she said, touching the tips of Andraya’s fingers.
‘Your fiancé is an interesting man,’ Andraya remarked.
‘I think so,’ Laurie responded. And after a pause, ‘May I say, that’s an extremely eye-catching top you’re wearing.’
‘Mm.’ Quite suddenly Andraya’s smile was so dazzling that Laurie actually blinked. ‘Ah, a joke,’ Andraya purred. ‘Very good. Very droll.’ She was already turning away.
As she went Laurie cast a look down at the ankle-length skirt she was wearing. It was slit up the back to way above mid-thigh, and hugged her shapely bottom so lovingly that there was not the slightest chance she was anything but naked underneath. ‘Does she always dress like that?’ she asked Rachel.
‘Not quite as outrageously, but she’s usually got something on show. Thigh, cleavage, navel. I don’t actually think she can help it, it’s just the way she is.’
Laurie looked at her again, and was just beginning to feel extremely dull by comparison when Elliot murmured in her ear, ‘You’ve got much better tits.’
Spluttering with laughter, she turned to look up at him. ‘You think so?’
‘I know so.’
Standing on tiptoe she whispered something she knew would turn him on. His eyes darkened, and she felt herself moving closer to him.
‘OK, I know no-one else exists for you two these days,’ Rachel cut in, ‘but you could at least say hello, Elliot.’
Grinning, Elliot swept her into an embrace. ‘Great party,’ he told her. ‘And the catalogue is superb. Chris tells me you were in charge.’
‘Pff,’ Rachel scoffed. ‘He let me think I was, but he doesn’t let go of the reins. Have you seen the real thing yet? And I don’t mean the artist, I mean her paintings.’
‘I saw a few when they were being unpacked the other day,’ he answered. ‘They’re pretty spectacular.’
‘Any of them take your fancy?’
‘Can’t afford them. And I won’t be crass enough to ask if there’s a discount for friends.’
‘Which is his way of asking,’ Laurie chipped in.
‘If you were serious about buying, I’m sure there would be,’ Rachel told him.
‘A three-week honeymoon at an Amman Resort, an apartment overlooking Tower Bridge, and a woman with extremely expensive tastes in interior design, is about as far as I can stretch,’ he said ruefully.
‘Oh come on, the smaller ones start at a quarter of a million. I’m sure that’s in your budget,’ Rachel teased.
‘A quarter of a million!’ Laurie cried. ‘They must be good.’
‘They are,’ Elliot assured her. ‘Now, can I get you ladies a refill?’
‘There should be a waiter going round with a tray,’ Rachel responded, trying to spot someone. ‘Ah, there he is.’
As Elliot went off Rachel turned back to Laurie. ‘Have you had a second fitting for the dress yet?’
‘We went yesterday. My mother wept – and I have to confe
ss, so did I. It’s beautiful. I can hardly wait for Elliot to see it. Actually, the worst is going to be my dad, because he’ll probably cry too when he sees me. Just thank God he’s so mad about Elliot, or he might not let me go.’ She glanced impishly up at Elliot as he passed her a glass of champagne.
‘What was that?’ he said.
‘OK, I’m going to leave you two lovebirds alone to go and do my hostessing bit,’ Rachel told them. ‘Let’s have lunch next week, Laurie, if you’ve got time.’
As Rachel slipped into the crowd Elliot put an arm round Laurie’s shoulders. ‘How long before you think we can go?’ he murmured.
She looked at him in surprise. ‘Bored?’ she said.
‘A bit. Actually, I don’t feel too good. I’ve had a blinding headache all day, and it’s starting to come back.’
She frowned. It wasn’t like him to be ill, even if it was just a headache. ‘I’d say another half an hour should do it,’ she responded. ‘Can you last that long?’
‘I think so.’ He looked across the room, and keeping an arm around her, he steered her towards George Herbert from The Times. ‘I suppose we need to be sociable,’ he murmured, ‘though frankly, I just want to get you back into bed.’
It was strange, Laurie thought, when finally they were in the car heading home, how nothing had happened during the last half an hour to make her mood change, at least nothing she could put her finger on, yet she was aware of feeling edgy and uncertain again. She glanced over at Elliot. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, though his hand was on hers, and sensing her looking he gave it a squeeze. She cast her thoughts back over the evening, wondering if it was their second encounter with Andraya that had unsettled her, but if anything she’d actually warmed to the woman as she’d confessed to feeling nervous about the upcoming show, and had managed to sound genuinely pleased when Laurie had suggested she join her and Rachel for lunch in the week.
‘I’ll tell you my secret,’ Andraya had whispered, easing Laurie aside. ‘I am very intimidated by the English. You are all so proper, so superior. Never do I find it easy to make friends when I come here. I show my breasts, because the men, they like it, and because it help to sell my art, and they are beautiful part of me. I know that, and I am not ashamed of them, but I know this shocks you.’ She smiled right into Laurie’s eyes. ‘Thank you for not letting it stop you to be my friend.’ Which just went to show that even someone as beautiful and successful as Andraya wasn’t without their insecurities, so maybe they were a normal, even necessary part of the human psyche.
Her thoughts moved on to Daya. She’d give almost anything to know where the girl was now. The sick feeling of being to blame if something terrible had happened to her began twisting its way inside her again. She wondered if any of the people they’d just left behind at the party had any idea what it was like to be displaced and dehumanized, the way Daya, and millions like her, were being displaced and dehumanized every day. And if they did, would they care?
In her mind’s eye she pictured Daya and Andraya – two stunningly beautiful women, even similar-sounding names, yet how different their worlds. And how appalling, she thought, to be charging a quarter of a million pounds or more for a painting which was no damned use to anyone, except to fill up a space on a rich man’s wall. What a difference a sum like that would make to the life of someone such as Daya.
She considered mentioning her thoughts to Elliot, but he seemed so engrossed in his own world that he probably wouldn’t welcome the intrusion. She wished that didn’t annoy her, but it did, because it made her feel shut out again, and she resented it. Worse was not knowing how to handle it, because this never used to happen between them. They could go for hours without speaking, and still feel as close as ever, but it didn’t seem to be like that any more.
As he pulled the car to a stop in the underground garage she turned in her seat to look at him. ‘How’s your headache?’ she asked.
‘Much better, thanks.’ To her surprise he reached over and drew her into his arms.
‘I love you,’ she told him, looking up into his eyes.
For a while he just continued to look at her, searching her face almost as though imprinting it on his mind. Then, kissing her again, he said, ‘I love you too.’
Chapter Five
THE BIG PROBLEM with dreams, Sherry always found, was how wretched they could make you feel in the morning, even the good ones. Actually, especially the good ones, because realizing that it was something illusory that just popped in to show you how fantastic it could all be if only you had your way, then vanished again like some half-baked genie – all promise and no delivery – was about as welcome as being woken up by twenty volts. However, this morning, lying there in the first rosy glow of a rather lovely sunrise, she was still enjoying the after-effects of the night’s adventure, even daring to believe that at least a part of it might actually transform itself into reality. And who could say, maybe it would. Dreams could be premonitions, everyone knew that, so why not believe?
A cloud drifted across the morning sun, turning her bedroom a pinkish grey. She shifted restlessly. Ominous signs were definitely not in the plan right now, so rolling on to her side she went back to the soothing promise of her dream. Actually, now she came to think of it, it wasn’t quite as perfect as she’d thought, and the part where her father had shown up in a growbag – a growbag – was weird indeed. But that was only to be expected from an encounter with the unconscious. It was what her father had said, from inside his growbag, that really mattered.
‘You see, you believed, you trusted and it’s all happening now in just the way you wanted.’
Certainly Nick coming back into her life, which was what had happened in the dream, would qualify for her dad’s cheesy prediction, as would Nick’s surprise to discover just how much he still loved her. In fact, she could – and would – run that part over several more times before moving on, because what came next, or at least after the most amazing orgasm that she could swear had really happened, was a tad disturbing. Not that she put any great store by the way faces changed in a dream, because they generally did, and it wasn’t as if Elliot’s had replaced Nick’s before the big moment, because it hadn’t, it was just starting to feel, in the cold light of day, as though she’d somehow betrayed Laurie, which was absolutely the last thing she wanted to do. OK, it was true, she found Elliot attractive, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t? He was everything she could ever want in a man, or he would be if Nick van Zant didn’t exist. But then there was the little problem of neither man being free, so it just went to prove what a sad person she was, that she built her dreams around total futility. Show her something she couldn’t have and she’d fixate to the exclusion of all else. And in case she should ever be in any doubt of that, she only had to count up the years she’d nurtured this almost laughable yearning for Nick to remind herself just what a no-hoper she was.
So much for bloody dreams, she thought, flinging back the duvet and getting out of bed. Hearing the phone on her desk, she decided to ignore it and went to answer the front door instead.
‘What the heck are you doing up at this ungodly hour?’ she demanded, as a bleary-eyed Rhona, still in her dressing gown, stumbled her way in.
‘I’m out of coffee, and I’m meeting an author at nine to take him on tour. Oh God, why do I do it?’
‘You mean work? Or drink?’
‘Can we put some toast on? I’m starving. Ah, coffee,’ she gasped, almost falling on to the pot.
‘It’s cold,’ Sherry warned her, taking a loaf from the fridge. ‘But we can soon make fresh.’
Rhona was in no mood to wait. She was already filling a mug and popping it into the microwave. ‘So where’s the tour?’ Sherry asked.
‘Manchester, Leeds, Edinburgh, Dublin. All madly exotic. However, I talked to Amon last night, and he’s got some spare time coming up, so we might take off to Granny’s villa for a couple of weeks. Do you know, we haven’t had a holiday for at least three months?�
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Sherry was aghast. ‘I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to survive,’ she cried.
‘Me neither,’ Rhona said, seriously, watching the seconds counting down.
Popping the bread in the toaster, Sherry said, ‘I take it you mean the villa on Hydra?’
‘The very same. Granny’s going to be in Rome visiting her sister, Great-Aunt Kristina, so there’s no chance of her turning up. She adores Amon, of course, but we hardly want her hanging around when she’s such an embarrassing flirt. She had a boob job, by the way, did I tell you?’
‘Your grandmother had a boob job!’
‘I know, hideous, isn’t it, but Mummy assures me they look quite good. I’ll take her word for it and pray the old trollop doesn’t insist on flashing them the next time I see her. Have you spoken to Laurie, by the way?’
‘Not this morning. Why, has something happened?’
‘I don’t think so, unless we count you helping out with this story, saint that you are. She’s invited me to join you all for lunch with this Andraya creature by the way. I won’t be around, sadly, because the woman sounds a delight. In love with her own tits as well as her art.’
‘A recipe for blinding success, if you ask me,’ Sherry commented. ‘Are you going to be around next week for the show?’
‘I don’t think so. I should be in Greece by then.’
Sherry was looking at the time. ‘I’ve got an appointment with Laurie’s contact at eight thirty,’ she said, ‘so I should start getting dressed. The toast’ll be ready any second, help yourself to more coffee, and if you’re gone by the time I come out again, don’t worry, I’ll keep everything watered while you’re away. And don’t forget to call now and again – my thrills might be vicarious, but they’re the only ones I get.’
An hour later Sherry was hurrying up the steps of Aldgate East tube station rapidly pressing Laurie’s number into her phone. She still had a few minutes to spare before the action-group guy turned up, so please God let Laurie be at home.
‘Sherry, hi!’ Elliot said, sounding genuinely pleased to hear her.
