by Evie Blake
One of the Americans asks her to dance, but she shakes her head. She is tired now, wants to go home and sleep, hoping that, in the morning, her lover will have returned. Now he is away, she begins to doubt her life here in Paris. Is he really making a film? For he never mentioned it to her before. She remembers her first day alone in Paris, all those weeks ago. He had never explained to her where he had disappeared to.
‘So, where’s Felix?’
She turns to see René, the small, bespectacled writer she had met the first night she and Felix had gone out in Paris.
‘He is away, filming,’ she tells him, as she takes the proffered glass of wine he is offering her.
‘I didn’t know he was making a film at the moment.’ René looks at her curiously.
‘Well, he is,’ she says, feeling a little irritated by his question. She sips the red wine, wondering why Felix could not have taken her with him on his film shoot.
‘I suppose he may have gone to see Matilde,’ the little man says, watching her closely as she freezes in horror at his words.
She has to ask him, although, in her heart, she already knows the answer. ‘Who is Matilde?’
René hesitates, looking troubled. ‘Oh dear; I thought you knew . . . Matilde is Felix’s wife.’
She feels the blood drain from her face; her hands are gripping her glass of wine so tightly that it feels like the glass will shatter.
‘I am so sorry,’ says René. ‘I assumed you knew, that you were in on the secret.’
‘I thought Felix’s wife was dead,’ she says, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘Vivienne said she was long gone . . .’
‘And so she is, metaphorically speaking, but Vivienne doesn’t know the whole story. We can’t tell her, you see, because of what happened to her . . .’ René sighs, looking troubled. ‘I really am so sorry to stir all this up. I just thought you knew.’
Maria looks at him and she is wondering if he is telling the truth, for he does look very concerned. ‘But . . . but . . . if you knew about Felix’s wife, who did you think I was? A whore?’ Her voice is shaking as anger begins to contaminate the love inside her heart.
‘Of course not! My goodness, no. I assumed you knew everything – how impossible things are for Matilde and Felix . . . I thought you were part of it.’
Maria fixes the quaking René with an icy glare. ‘And what part of it did you think I was?’
‘Why, his mistress, of course,’ the little man gushes. ‘The woman that Felix loves now – that much is quite obvious.’
Maria looks away from him in distress. She can feel the tears pricking her eyes, and she bites her lips in an effort to stop herself from crying. She needs to get out of here. She scans the crowd for Vivienne, but she has disappeared. Instead, she sees someone else, a figure she had put right to the back of her mind and tried to forget about: the white-haired man from that first night she and Felix had gone out in Paris. He is looking right at her, and is walking directly towards her.
‘Do you know who that man is? The tall one with the white hair?’ she hisses at René.
‘Why, of course I do!’ René exclaims. ‘That is Olivier, Felix’s brother.’
Felix has a brother! He has a secret wife and a secret brother. Who and what else is he hiding from her? It hurts so much that he hasn’t told her anything, that he cannot trust her.
And now Olivier is standing before her, shaking René’s hand, his face wearing a haughty expression. Of course, she can see now that he is Felix’s brother. They have the same deep-set eyes and brooding air.
‘I believe you haven’t yet met Maria,’ René is gabbling nervously.
‘Have you been spouting off again, René?’ Olivier says to the little man.
‘Well . . . I . . . I thought she knew . . .’ René wilts under the other man’s glare.
Olivier turns to give Maria his full attention. He is obviously the elder brother, yet he still maintains the same commanding air as Felix. ‘Mademosielle,’ he says, formally taking her hand. ‘I am pleased to meet you, although I think my brother would have preferred to be here to make the introductions.’
And yet Felix could have introduced them before, Maria can’t help thinking – that night a few weeks ago, in the club.
She is beginning to recover from the shock of discovering that Felix’s wife is still alive. Not only that, but, according to René, Felix is with her right now, as she stands here in this club with his brother. ‘Where is Felix?’ she asks Olivier, coming directly to the point.
‘Why, he is at the château,’ he says. ‘He will be back tomorrow. You will see him then. He can explain everything when he comes back to Paris.’
‘No,’ she says, emphatically. ‘I want you to take me there now.’
He frowns, looking quite bewildered by her request. ‘But it is the middle of the night . . . My dear, it is a long drive from here.’
‘Do you have a car?’
‘No, so it is quite impossible—’
‘I have a car,’ René pipes up. Olivier shoots him a furious look.
‘I insist you bring me to this château,’ she says, turning on René. ‘Otherwise, I shall leave Paris tonight and Felix will never see me again. And it will be your fault, René.’
‘But I don’t know the way,’ René protests.
‘Then you must come too, and show him,’ she says, boldly, to Olivier.
Felix’s brother reaches out and puts a cold hand on her bare arm; he shakes his head mournfully. ‘But, Maria, Felix has told me so much about you,’ he says gently. ‘He loves you very much. Don’t you think you can wait for him to come back to Paris?’
‘No, I can’t,’ she says, surprised by her own anger. ‘I need to see him now. I have to know the truth.’
‘The truth,’ says Olivier, darkly, ‘is a very, very complicated matter.’
There are four of them left, spread about the couch and chair, listening to the Irish singer, Clara Rose, and her song, ‘Girl’.
I once knew a girl, she had no head for circumstance
She went to a party, got burnt
I stayed at home, drinkin’ alone
But I was happier in the end
She is the girl in the song. She should have stayed away. Watching Theo all night with Anita at his side has made her miserable, and yet she can’t quite give up. She can’t walk away forever – not yet. Valentina watches dawn begin to push the night sky away, as if a blind is being drawn up to the heavens. The river now looks like a sheet of polished metal, so still, as if its current has stopped to take breath.
‘I think I’ll be off,’ says Chloe, Anita’s cousin, as she gets up out of the armchair and smoothes down her spiky red hair.
‘Are you sure, darling?’ Anita drawls. ‘You’re welcome to stay; there’s plenty of room.’
Does Chloe sense the sexual tension between the three of them that has steadily been brewing all night long? Or does she just want to go home to her own bed? In any case, Anita’s cousin makes her adieus and, a few minutes later, the three of them are left together, sitting in a row on that huge white couch, sipping a tumbler of whisky each and looking out of the window at London. Valentina knows that she is no longer being subtle. Yet now, at the moment when she is about to give up, she begins to sense some game being played by her rival. Instead of seeming disturbed by Valentina’s continued presence, Anita has almost encouraged her to outstay all the other guests. But what about Theo?
When he first saw her, she had seen him flinch. There was surprise in his eyes (it had not even occurred to her that Anita hadn’t told him she was going to be here), and he looked unhappy that she was at the party. She had nearly left right then, she was so hurt by his reaction. But then, as the night wore on, she noticed him looking at her – all the time. She saw his eyes watching her, regarding her as she took off her jacket to reveal a skintight, sleeveless rib top, looking at her when she was talking to any other man in the room. Yet, when she tried to approach him on her own, A
nita was suddenly by his side. She had even determined to ask him about Glen and what was going on with the Masson picture, but again there was always someone within earshot. So she had started to drink some more champagne and now, with the addition of the whisky, all this drink really has gone to her head. She doesn’t care anymore about exposing her feelings.
She is sitting on a couch with her ex-lover and his new girlfriend. Anita is sandwiched between them, her silk-clad body wedged beside Valentina, who can feel their hip bones touching and the softness of Anita’s thighs, and smell that scent of wealth off her. She is all glossy, luxurious sexuality and, on the other side of her, sits the man who melts Valentina to the very core.
Valentina is beyond all reason, all rationale, when – without any kind of premeditation – she turns, instinctively, to Anita (and does the other woman turn to her at exactly the same time?) and kisses her on the lips. The kiss deepens, as sweet and soft as vanilla sugar. The two women twist around to embrace each other, and Valentina feels the ample breasts of Anita pressed against her own. The image of the Lautrec painting, Abandon, comes into her head. This, then, is her abandonment. She opens her eyes and, over Anita’s shoulder, she sees Theo staring at her. His blue eyes have turned indigo with desire and he passes his tongue over his lips. She senses him holding back, watching the two women as they caress each other before slowly pulling away.
‘So . . .’ Anita places her hand on Valentina’s shoulder, fluttering her false eyelashes at her. ‘Shall we three play?’
Valentina looks across her at Theo. ‘Would you like to?’ she asks him, directly.
For the first time since she has known him, Theo looks thrown, beyond words. ‘Do you really want to do this, Valentina?’ he finally says, his voice hoarse.
She nods as Anita takes her by the hand and pulls her up off the couch.
‘I have done this before,’ Anita tells them. ‘Three is always better than two. Besides,’ she smiles mischievously, ‘I believe the only way I will get Mr Steen to actually sleep with me is if Valentina is there as well. In the light of what we agreed earlier, tonight will be my last chance.’
Valentina is not sure whether she is referring to her discussion with her, or something she and Theo have spoken about. She doesn’t really care.
‘Come,’ Anita says, leading Valentina out of the sitting room so that Theo stands up to follow her. Valentina twists around and reaches out her hand to Theo and he takes it. They are together, now, within this erotic adventure and she is not sure whether it is her or his fantasy they are about to enact.
Anita instructs Valentina to go into the bathroom and fill the jacuzzi up while, in the meantime, she brings Theo into the bedroom.
Valentina hesitates.
‘Don’t worry, darling, we are not going to do anything until you get back. I just want to build up the anticipation,’ Anita tells her.
The bathroom is in a similar style to the bedroom. There is a large iron claw bath in the centre of the room, but Valentina ignores this and turns on the sunken jacuzzi in the corner. She is in a hurry, anxious to get back to the others before anything happens, or before she might sober up and change her mind.
When she walks into Anita’s bedroom, Theo is sitting on the bed, while Anita stands in front of him. It is as if they are frozen in tableau. Theo seems more relaxed now, and pats the bed next to him. Valentina slips off her high-heeled ankle boots and slides on to the bed. She feels the warmth of his body up against hers and inhales him. It is all she can do to stop herself from throwing herself on top of him. Music begins to fill the room, gathering them into a sensuous mood. It is classical – a woman’s voice scaling a delicate aria – but Valentina is not sure what it is. She doesn’t care. She is transfixed by Anita, who begins to sway her hips in front of both of them. She is dancing for them. There is not much for her to take off. She unties the halter neck of her magenta dress and lets it slither and slide down her body. She is wearing no underwear whatsoever. Her body is perfectly balanced: her full, pert breasts, her tiny waist, and the gentle curve of her hips. Valentina’s eyes trail down to the tiny little square of Anita’s pubic hair and the delicate V between her legs.
Anita reaches out her hand to her. Valentina looks across at Theo and he is looking at her intensely. She wonders if he is turned on by the naked Anita. He must be. And yet his eyes are on her.
‘Do you want to, Valentina?’ he asks her.
‘Shush,’ she says, bringing her finger to her lips. ‘No words.’
She stands up and lets Anita begin to undress her, as if she is her servant. Anita unzips her little Mary Quant skirt and lets it fall around her feet. Valentina steps out of it. She pulls her little rib top up, over her head, so that now she is just in her bra, G-string, stockings and suspenders.
‘Au naturel,’ Anita whispers, pushing her fingers around the edge of Valentina’s G-string and stroking her, pressing her finger in further, so that it tips the lips of her labia. Valentina steps back, a little shaken. Anita has felt how turned on she is. Anita looks up at her with glee, and then removes her hand. She walks around her and unclips her bra. Now Valentina is naked apart from her G-string, stockings and suspender belt. She doesn’t take her eyes off Theo. Is he comparing her imperfect body with the perfect Anita? Yet Theo is holding her gaze, looking only at her. He speaks with his eyes, and what they say warms her, gives her strength.
Anita unclips Valentina’s suspender belt and her stockings roll down her legs. She lifts Valentina’s feet, one at a time, and pulls the stockings off. Then she stands up again and turns Valentina to face her. The two women are about the same height, yet their bodies are completely different. Anita’s breasts are so much plumper, her nipples look like lily pads, their stems hard buttons of arousal. She has narrower hips than Valentina, a smaller bottom, yet her legs are just as long. Anita surveys Valentina as if she is a prize she has just won. She turns her around, puts her hands on Valentina’s waist and drags both her hands down the sides of her bottom.
‘What a heavenly behind,’ she comments.
‘It is a bottom that deserves to be spanked,’ Theo says, his voice laced with humour.
‘Indeed,’ Anita murmurs, turning Valentina around again and leading her to the bed where Theo sits, still dressed.
He stands up suddenly and takes Valentina by the hand. ‘Would you like me to spank you, Valentina?’ he asks her. ‘I will only do it if you want me to.’
She looks into her love’s eyes. ‘Yes,’ she whispers. ‘I really want you to do that.’
She feels a thrill within the pit of her stomach. Theo sits back down and Anita positions her so that she is bent over his lap. Theo caresses her bottom, stroking it with his hands, massaging her cheeks.
She closes her eyes, preparing herself for the slap of his hand upon her tender behind. Down it comes. A quick, playful slap – not too hard – the slight pain of it soon replaced by a quickening in her blood, a deep vibration within her body, echoing, calling to her essence.
‘Again?’ Theo asks.
‘Yes,’ she whispers.
He smacks her a little harder this time. She cries out.
‘Did I hurt you?’
She hears the concern in his voice. She twists around to look up at him. ‘No, I liked it.’
It is true. She can’t say why she likes it. Is she a sham of a feminist to want her lover to give her a little spank? Yet it is always a game – always has been with her and Theo – and she likes all his attention, the way she knows he is admiring her bottom. It makes her want him inside her so very much.
‘That’s enough,’ Anita says. She seems to be in charge of both of them tonight.
Theo gathers Valentina up in his arms.
‘Let’s get into the jacuzzi,’ Anita says. ‘Let’s make you feel better, Valentina.’
Theo carries her into the bathroom and Anita follows. The room is filled with fragrant steam. He places Valentina back down on her feet. She wants so much for him to keep h
olding her in his arms. Yet Anita has her by the hand now, and is dragging her away from him. ‘Come on,’ she says, stepping into the bubbling water.
Valentina follows her in and the two women bob either end of the jacuzzi as they watch Theo undress. Every article of clothing he takes off makes her loins soften further. The white shirt is discarded and she looks with longing at his chest, remembering how it felt to have his strong arms around her. He drops his trousers to reveal his long, muscled legs. He takes off his pants and the two women admire his powerful erection. Valentina sighs inwardly as she watches him get into the jacuzzi, the water sloshing over her as he sits down. She thought she would never see Theo up this close again. She thought she would never have him inside her again. She is so close now. She just wishes Anita were not here.
And yet it is Anita who moves across the water to her first. ‘Sit between my legs,’ she tells Valentina.
Valentina slides back between Anita’s legs. She feels the other woman’s pussy pressed against the top of her bottom, her breasts against her back. It is erotic, there is no doubt. The other woman slowly begins to stroke her shoulders, reaching around her and massaging her belly. Jets of water shoot up around them and through them.
‘Massage me?’ Theo asks Valentina.
She opens up her legs in answer and he slips between them, just as she slotted into Anita. She pushes up against him and reaches round his middle. She wants to savour this moment of touching Theo so intimately again, after all these weeks. Slowly, she works her hands over his chest, through the tuft of hair at the base of his belly and down.
Gradually Anita releases her from between her legs while Theo reaches around Valentina and gently removes her hands from his cock.
As if choreographed like a dance they all change places. Theo turns and grabs Valentina by the waist, pulling her towards him as he now slots her between his legs. Valentina can feel his cock pressed up against her back, his breath upon her neck. He brings his hands around her waist and tiptoes them down her stomach, across her pelvis, to between her legs, gently circling his finger around her clitoris. Meanwhile, Anita has repositioned herself, this time in front of Valentina. The women face each other and now, with raised knees, Anita puts her legs either side of Valentina and slides towards her through the water. Valentina looks at the other woman, her eyes brimming with desire. She knows what she wants. Instinctively, she reaches forward and touches Anita with her fingertips. She begins to do to Anita exactly what Theo is doing to her.
