by Carmen Reid
‘Susan knows I’m here tonight,’ he said, surprising her.
‘Oh really? What did she say?’
‘She wants a full report on what your plans are. She knows you’re not working. Well, she thinks she’d know about it if you were.’
‘And what are you going to tell her?’
‘Whatever you want me to, boss,’ Chris answered.
Bella took a deep sip from her glass and lit up a cigarette. ‘D’you want one?’ she asked.
‘Think I will, actually.’ She tossed him the packet, liking the fact that he smoked only very occasionally, just to keep her company.
As she sat up to light him, he leaned his face close over her hands, so she could feel his warm breath on her fingers. She had to stop herself from touching him.
‘So . . .’ he said blowing smoke out, ‘what are you going to do next?’
‘I’m figuring it out,’ she answered.
‘What do you want to do, Bella?’
‘Well, a three-day week for a start,’ she said. ‘But a three-day week that doesn’t kill off all my prospects – something lucrative, but a bit more worthy, and something that feels as if it has a future. I’m sick of batting from contract to contract.’
‘That’s quite a long list,’ he said.
‘Every problem can be solved if you spend long enough trying to find the solution,’ she said, aware that she didn’t have much longer to solve this at all.
‘Well . . . I’m looking forward to it,’ he said, then asked: ‘What do you want me to tell Susan?’
‘That I’m sorry we fell out and I’ll be in touch with her soon, when I’ve got a clearer idea of what I’m going to do next,’ Bella replied, deciding it might be a good thing to mend some bridges. ‘Will she be OK with that?’
‘Yeah.’
They talked animatedly on the sofa, Chris filling her in on all the latest work news, and when the champagne bottle was empty, she took him downstairs for some food.
‘What a great kitchen,’ Chris said as he stepped down the final stair into the cosy cavern Bella had laboured to create.
The table was laid with crystal glasses, candles and flowers. The lighting was low and the garden lights were on, making the room look far bigger and more glamorous than it really was.
‘Thanks . . . take a seat, open another bottle.’ Bella handed him the wine and served the first course.
They ate slowly, still talking about work and office gossip. The wine bottle was already two-thirds down and it occurred to Bella that she hadn’t drunk this much for over a year, but she felt fine. She felt good.
‘I’m not feeling very hungry,’ she told Chris. ‘Shall we have another cigarette?’
Conspiratorially they lit up together, giggling about it: ‘This is what I call the inter-course cigarette,’ she joked, feeling herself slip into full on flirt mode.
‘We need more wine,’ he said and got up to get a bottle from the fridge.
‘Oh my God, how come I don’t feel drunk yet?’ she asked when she’d got through another large glassful.
‘Maybe you’re having too much fun,’ he answered, tilting his head so a thick lock of black hair bounced down over his forehead and for a moment, she felt slain with lust.
‘Are you trying to get me drunk, Chris?’ she asked when the power of speech had returned.
‘No, no, no,’ he was smiling at her. ‘Although you’re very nice drunk.’
‘Oh boy.’ She smiled back at him.
‘You always know when you really, really fancy someone, because the most unappealing things about them become sexy,’ he said, topping up their glasses again.
‘Such as?’ She knew this was dangerous, dangerous water, but she had her boots on and was wading on out there.
‘I’m feeling really quite turned on by those damp patches on your blouse,’ he said.
She looked down to see two large wet marks, where her breasts had leaked, and burst out into shrieks of laughter. He began to laugh too and for a few moments, they were overcome with hilarity.
That was when she realized how pissed she was.
‘OK, your turn,’ he said when they had calmed down a little. ‘What’s the least appealing thing about me?’
She looked at him closely, trying not to giggle. Two of his white front teeth were snagged . . . adorable. He had a bristling middle eyebrow . . . gorgeous. She looked at him for a very long time and couldn’t see anything to complain about.
‘You see,’ he said finally. ‘You really fancy me.’
‘Yeah,’ she answered.
He leaned over and kissed her hard on the mouth. She opened her lips and let him, thinking only about how strange and interesting a different mouth is, when you’ve been with one person for so long.
The kiss went on and on. Her eyes were tightly closed and their knees were bumping together. She felt his arms around her lifting her to her feet so they could get closer. He risked pulling her in tightly to him, so she could feel how turned on he was.
Finally, he broke off and looked at her, seeing how pink and swollen her lips were already from the intensity of the kissing.
‘Are you OK with this?’ he asked.
‘Oh yeah,’ she whispered and latched onto his mouth again. Then she kissed his neck and felt his pulse throbbing under her lips.
‘Where do you want this to go?’ she heard him ask.
‘The bedroom,’ she answered, the head rush of lust and alcohol ruling out any indecision.
They moved up the kitchen stairs and in the hall they kissed, licked and touched each other all over again. He undid the buttons of her blouse and let it fall to the floor. He pushed a nipple out of the tight lace bra and put his mouth against it. Licking round it and biting on the very tip, he whispered: ‘It tastes sweet.’
She crashed a kiss onto his mouth and to her horror, he lifted her up and ran to the stairs.
‘Chris!’ she cried. ‘You can’t do this!’
She closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the ride. Chris was struggling as they got to the top of the steps and she had fallen so low in his arms, he was practically dragging her up. He stumbled and fell on top of her.
‘Ouch,’ she giggled as she lay under him.
‘God, sorry.’ He saw she was OK and locked his mouth on top of hers. Kissing him hard, she reached for his belt and fumbled to unbuckle it, then unzipped his trousers and felt for his cock.
He put his hands on her thighs under her skirt, then hooked his fingers round her pants and peeled them down her legs. He placed one hand over her naked crotch and held it still, so she could feel the heat radiating from his palm. On the brink of distraction that he wasn’t moving it, wasn’t feeling her, she pushed down into his hand, meltingly wet.
Their lips were locked together and both her hands were stroking his cock, feeling the long hardness of it, rubbing against the rim and the little opening at the top.
‘Come to my room,’ she whispered. Of course she’d said ‘my room’, the thought flickered through her mind.
‘Is that OK?’ Chris whispered back.
She stood up and led him in by the hand, her heart thudding in her chest.
The room was lit only by the street lamp outside the window, the curtains hadn’t been drawn. Snowy new sheets, duvet and pillows were piled up on the iron bed.
Bella pulled off her skirt and sat down in bra, stockings, suspenders and high heels. She enjoyed seeing the effect this had on him. He tugged off his clothes, not taking his eyes from her. Bella looked at the smooth, hairless chest, firm stomach and quivering cock.
Chris knelt at the edge of the bed and pulled her hips to his face.
She closed her eyes and lay back, letting him bury his face between her legs. She could feel herself coming almost immediately, but it didn’t do anything to slake her thirst.
‘Please fuck me,’ she said.
‘Do you have anything?’ She could hear the urgency in his voice.
‘Table beside you, t
op drawer,’ she said.
He pulled out the drawer and found the packet of condoms, open with several left inside. He tore one open and slid it into place.
‘You’ll need the KY too,’ she said, then added: ‘Stitches,’ by way of explanation.
‘Oh,’ he said and fumbled for the tube. He squeezed some out into his hand and rubbed it over his condomed penis, which was not quite as hard as it had been.
She stretched out her arms for him and he wondered where to wipe his jellied hand.
He placed it down on the duvet and tried a surreptitious wipe as he carefully crawled up towards her, covering her body with his.
After a long, probing kiss, he noticed how still she was lying, underneath him. He opened his eyes and looked at her face. She was looking at him very seriously. The desire and the drunkenness which had spurred her on to do this was fast dissolving and she was left feeling very naked under a strange body.
‘Oh dear,’ he said and rolled off onto his side. He propped his face up on one hand and looked at her, lying on her back on the big bed. They were both suddenly very sober and very serious.
‘It’s OK,’ he said.
‘It’s not OK, it’s not OK at all . . .’ she sounded angry. ‘I thought this would make me feel better, but it doesn’t.’
‘I’m really sorry, this is my fault,’ he said. ‘I feel like I’ve taken advantage of you.’
‘No, no.’ She was surprised to feel tears forming in her eyes. ‘No. I think I meant this to happen . . . I’m really frightened that Don’s having an affair. And I somehow thought if I could get even, it wouldn’t hurt so much . . . And do you have to be so good-looking?’ she added.
‘I’m really sorry,’ he said again and sat up on the bed.
She sat up too now. ‘I’ve got to speak to him and find out what the hell’s gone wrong with our marriage.’ She was wiping tears from her face. ‘I’ve been so down, it’s hardly surprising he’s gone off with someone else.’
‘Hey, it can’t be all your fault.’ Chris put an arm round her, wondering distractedly how he was going to dispose of the condom scrunched up in his other hand.
She put her wet face on his bare shoulder and he felt her breasts brush his chest: ‘I’m in love with you, Bella,’ he said, taking himself completely by surprise – in fact he didn’t even know if this was true.
‘No you’re not,’ she said, but she looked up at him and gave a half-smile. ‘You really care about me and you lust after me. And I feel the same about you.’
With some relief, he realized she was right.
‘Shit,’ she sighed. ‘We really shouldn’t have done this.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Well, we haven’t . . . not technically. Actually I’m not sure I could have managed.’
‘Attack of conscience?’ she asked.
‘Bella, I’ve got your husband’s condom in my hand.’
Before she could even laugh in response to this, she heard a thin wail coming from next door.
They had woken the baby.
‘Oh bugger,’ said Bella, reaching for her dressing gown.
Chris stood up and turned away from her, suddenly self-conscious and needing to get back into his clothes. ‘I should probably go,’ he said.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘There’s lots of food downstairs.’
‘Well. . .’
‘Go and eat some of the curry, I’ll settle Markie down then come and join you.’
Once her son was asleep again, she stripped off her underwear and stockings and let them fall in a heap on the bedroom floor, then in her dressing gown and slippers and went downstairs.
She ate a plateful of curry with Chris and they both drank water. Feeling totally sobered, they talked very safely about favourite curry recipes and cooking until it was time for Chris to call a cab and leave.
‘Thanks for dinner,’ he said at the door, putting a hand on her shoulder.
‘Yeah, and the rest.’ Bella gave a wan smile.
‘It’s OK.’
They kissed on the cheeks.
‘I’m really sorry I’ve loaded all this on you,’ she said. ‘It’s a good thing you’re such a nice guy.’ She gave him a grateful hug.
‘It’s really OK,’ he said and kissed her forehead. ‘Call me if I can do anything and call Susan soon. OK?’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘You’re a star.’
‘Good night.’
‘Good night.’
She locked the front door and stood alone in the hallway. God, she was exhausted. She decided to blow out the candles and go straight to bed. She could tidy up in the morning, she had nothing else planned.
In a light, dozing sleep very early the next morning, she thought she heard the sound of the front door unlocking.
She opened her eyes and looked at the alarm 5:41 a.m. She closed her eyes again then heard bags being set down in the hall.
BAGS!!!! Jesus Christ!
She was awake now, bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding. There was the rustle of a waxed coat being taken off and she heard the sitting room door creak open.
She knew what he would see in the sitting room – candles, flowers still wrapped in paper and two empty champagne glasses. She heard Don’s heavy tread on the stairs down to the kitchen, where he would find the table still laid out with dinner for two, complete with lipsticked butts in the ashtray and too many empty wine bottles.
He was back in the hall now, probably picking up her blouse. Fuck, fuck, fuck . . . she heard him coming fast up the stairs, two at a time. Frozen to the spot, she saw her stockings and suspenders lying on the floor as the bedroom door swung open.
Chapter Forty-one
‘WHAT THE HELL is going on?’ Don’s face was stony white.
‘Well . . . well . . .’ she answered, trying not to panic, ‘I was about to ask you the very same bloody thing.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ he shouted.
She stared at him in silence.
‘Who the fuck was here last night?’ he asked.
‘And why would you care?’ she answered.
‘I’m your husband, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Well, you certainly haven’t been acting like one.’
‘Just what the hell is going on, Bella?’ he asked again. ‘Your pants are hanging from the banisters.’ His fury was barely under control, especially as he had just seen the pile of lace and stockings on the floor beside the bed.
‘Well you start, Don. Did you have a nice little reconnaissance trip with Simone? Simone “you must be gasping for a grown-up shag” Sewell.’
‘Jesus Christ, Bella.’ For a moment, he looked like he might laugh.
She was slightly thrown off her stride by this.
‘I finished with Simone when we met, you know that. But she’s back over here, she works in my business, she’s a die-hard flirt and you’ll just have to live with it. I’ve made it clear to her I’m not interested.’
‘Oh.’
‘But just what have you been doing?’ he stormed. ‘Have you gone out of your mind?’
‘Well, what the hell are you doing back anyway?’ She threw the question at him, still avoiding his. ‘You don’t call for five days in a row then turn up on the doorstep.’
‘Sorry to spoil your fun. I’ve just been airlifted out of a war zone by the UN. I thought you’d get a nice surprise!’ he shouted.
‘Oh.’
Don put his hands on his hips and squared up to her. He looked grey and exhausted, his black moleskin trousers were splashed with mud and his pale green shirt was stained, he hadn’t shaved for days. But she saw only the man she loved most in the world and like a dreamer waking up to reality, she realized what a monumental mistake she had made.
‘Your clothes are scattered all over the house, there’s last night’s candlelit dinner for two in the kitchen – am I going to get an explanation? And don’t you dare lie to me.’ She had never seen him so angry.
She hung her hea
d, she couldn’t face looking at him. ‘Chris was here,’ she said finally, ‘We . . . things got a bit . . .’ this was really hard. Fighting the lump in her throat, she said, ‘I almost slept with him, but I changed my mind.’
Don turned his head towards the window and swallowed hard. He felt as if he had been kicked in the balls.
‘Chris from work?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
Don folded his arms and kept his gaze fixed on the window.
There was a long silence. She looked up at him and was distraught to see that he was trying not to cry.
‘It was a huge mistake,’ she pleaded. ‘I just felt lonely and unloved and unattractive and I thought you were sleeping with someone else and he seemed like the antidote. Don, I really miss you . . .’ she broke off to choke down a sob. ‘I miss the way we used to be.’
‘Christ. I’ve got to get some sleep,’ was his reply in a strained voice. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Bella could hear him take the stairs up to the attic. So he was going to sleep on the sofa up there. The hellishly uncomfortable sofa in that cold, unheated room.
She felt so sorry for him and so full of regret. For a moment she just wanted to howl, but then she decided not to give in to it.
She couldn’t feel sorry for herself any longer, this was all her fault. She’d wanted the baby, she’d got pregnant without telling him, she was the one who hadn’t been able to handle it all, she was the one who’d pushed Don away, read his mail, seduced Chris . . . JESUS. What a mess. She could hear Markie stirring in his room.
It was late afternoon before Don came downstairs. Bella had already tidied the house and taken Markie out to the park and the supermarket and come back home again. She was stacking the lunch dishes into the dishwasher and Markie was sitting in his high chair messing with the slop of food in front of him when Don came in.
‘Hello,’ Bella said.
Don didn’t answer but bent over Markie in his chair. ‘Hi there, little guy,’ he said tenderly.
Markie stretched out his gooey hands towards him and Don looked touched.
‘Are you eating yourself now? That’s very clever.’ He picked up Markie’s spoon and scooped up a bit of the fruit purée.
‘Bella. I’ve decided to move out for a bit,’ he said as he guided the spoon into Markie’s mouth.
