A Lesson in Desire: Season of Desire Part 3 (Seasons Quartet)

by Sadie Matthews

  We had no time to speak to one another when we touched down, as I was immediately whisked into an ambulance and driven at top speed through the city streets to the hospital. I don’t know what happened to Miles. I haven’t seen him since.

  Dad said he was at home. I’ll see him there. It will all be okay, I’m sure of it.

  But though I try to convince myself, I can’t help the dark fear crawling up through my stomach and creeping over my skin.

  A few minutes later, the door opens and Jane-Elizabeth is standing there. I’m so happy to see her that my eyes fill with tears and, as she comes towards me with her arms open, I realise that she is crying too.

  ‘Freya, you naughty girl!’ she says through her tears, enveloping me in a huge hug. ‘How could you put us through that? I thought we’d lost you! It was terrible. Oh, I’m so happy to see you!’

  She holds me tight and kisses my hair, and I feel the first real comfort since Miles and I were separated. Jane-Elizabeth has been a part of my life for so long, and she’s the closest thing to a mother that I’ve got now. Just the sight of her is reassuring. She always dresses the same, in narrow black trousers that show off her legs and baggy black tunic tops that hide her slightly bigger middle, and beautiful scarves to provide a note of colour: bright Hermès silk in the summer, and soft printed cashmere in the winter. Her hair is naturally dark but threaded with grey and she has a terrific grey quiff at the front that looks like it’s been dyed in but is completely natural. She has soft brown eyes in a face that’s remarkably young-looking. Jane-Elizabeth says it’s down to the fact that she hasn’t had children, but that looking after us has given her the grey streak. She pulls back now to look carefully at me, scrutinising me for any signs of harm. ‘Are you really all right?’ she asks. Her tears have dried now, but her eyes are still damp and she sniffs a little.

  I nod.

  Her brow creases in a worried frown. ‘What happened to you out there, Freya? We thought you must be dead.’

  ‘It was… frightening,’ I reply. I have a flashback to the moment that the car left the road and began to plummet towards the earth. I remember the blind panic, the strange slow-motion of it, the desperate desire not to die and, as it comes back to me, I begin to shake. Jane-Elizabeth notices and clutches my fingers tightly, murmuring soft words of comfort. Tears spring back to my eyes and I’m seized by an urge to let it all out and cry, but I swallow it down. ‘I thought it was all over for me. I really did. But, thank God, Miles was there and he saved me.’

  Now I recall the feeling of his arms around me, the warmth and comfort of his body as he carried me through the buffeting wind and driving snow. I remember his words of encouragement, the delight in his eyes when he found us the hut, the way he laughed and his down-to-earth practical approach to our ordeal. I see his face hard with fury, his eyes angry and accusing, and his expression of hurt bewilderment at the things I said to him. Then, my inside clench with painful pleasure as I remember his mouth, his tongue thrusting into mine, the feel of his hands on my body, the hardness of him pressing against me. Oh God, it’s almost too much. I remember that physical yearning I felt for him before he’d ever touched me: it’s a hundred times more powerful now I’ve tasted the delights of what he can give me. Jane-Elizabeth hugs me again. ‘It sounds like Miles was a bit of a hero.’

  A delicious warmth fills me at the sound of his name. It feels as though I can't hear it enough. ‘He was. But I'm worried that Dad wants to blame him for the whole thing.’

  ‘Your father was very frightened, Freya. He genuinely thought you’d been killed. It was awful to witness.’ She pulls away to gaze into my eyes, her expression serious. ‘That man adores you, Freya, you’ve got to believe that. I’ve never seen him more close to the edge than I did over the last few days. He wants to punish someone for those awful feelings – but he’ll calm down. He’ll soon realise that Miles is the one who brought his daughter back safe and well.’

  ‘I hope so. I couldn’t bear it if Dad punished him for something that was my fault.’

  Jane-Elizabeth raises her eyebrows. She looks surprised. I start to flush. I suppose she hasn’t often heard me admit that something might be my fault, particularly where members of staff are concerned.

  ‘I mean… I… well…’ I’m not quite sure what to say to recover myself, and I can feel my blush growing stronger. ‘I should have seen for myself what the weather conditions were like,’ I finish lamely.

  ‘Mmm.’ Jane-Elizabeth is still looking at me oddly. Then she gives my hand a squeeze and says, ‘Why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll go home. I’ve brought some fresh clothes for you – they’re in the bag in the corner – and the car is waiting downstairs. And I mean it, Freya, about your father. He was distraught over you.’

  I get out of bed and go to pick up the bag of clothes. ‘Yeah. I noticed by the way he couldn’t wait to go off shopping with Estella rather than take me home.’

  Jane-Elizabeth sighs and says, ‘I’m afraid that Estella is a cross we all just have to bear.’ I see the sadness in her face and remember that Estella has trampled all over her life too. She adds gently, ‘It doesn’t change what your father really feels for you. You must remember that.’

  I say nothing, but take the bag into the bathroom to change.

  Twenty minutes later, after leaving the hospital through a flurry of flashbulbs, television cameras and shouted questions from reporters, Jane-Elizabeth and I are being driven through the city streets in another of my father’s black Mercedes. I think of the one buried in snow at the bottom of the mountain and wonder idly if it will ever be recovered. The storm has well and truly passed, and a wintry sun is doing its best to illuminate the grey-white sky. It will be a drive of an hour or so back to the house but the roads are clear of snow. It’s hard to imagine it was such a short time ago that the storm was brewing up and my life was about to change for ever.

  I lean my head back against the headrest. It’s so good to feel clean again. I had a long, steaming hot shower, scrubbing off the dirt of two days but also washing the traces of Miles from my body with something almost like regret. The whole experience in the hut is becoming increasingly more dream-like. Although it’s all so vivid, there’s a kind of unreality to it. Were we really shut away like that, just the two of us? Did we really do all those delicious things to one another?

  Now that I’m stepping back into my old life, being chauffeured in a pristine car back towards my luxurious mountain home, I’m feeling increasingly disconnected from what happened. But my body hungers for Miles in a way that reassures me that it was all darkly, passionately real.

  Miles, where are you? Are you thinking about me? Do you yearn for me like I’m yearning for you?

  I picture him suddenly, talking to me in those headily exciting moments before he began to give me my first lesson. I hear his deep voice growling in my ear and even though it’s just a memory, my body throbs in response. He’s saying, ‘When we get out, normal relations will be re-established, and everything that’s happened here will be forgotten.’

  My desire is forgotten in a jolt of panic. Forgotten? Really?

  That’s what I agreed to. It’s what he said.

  A voice cries out in my head: No! No way. He can’t forget everything just like that… can he?

  I know for certain that I can’t. But the idea that Miles might fills me with dread.

  ‘Freya?’ It’s Jane-Elizabeth, sitting beside me, unaware of what’s churning inside me. ‘Yes?’ My voice sounds breathless and anxious but Jane-Elizabeth doesn’t seem to notice as she opens her handbag and pulls out something small, slim and black.

  ‘Here. This is for you. A new telephone. Your old one was lost, wasn’t it?’

  I nod, and take it from her. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’ I gaze down at its smooth, gleaming surface. I can tell it’s ready to spring into life, and reconnect me with everything and everyone from before. I don’t turn it on. I know that hundreds of emails and notification
s will have arrived for me since I went missing. I’m not sure I’m ready for all that just yet.

  ‘Is it all right?’ Jane-Elizabeth asks, watching me as I stare at the phone. ‘It’s all connected and ready to go.’

  ‘Oh – oh, yes, it’s great.’ I slip it into my pocket and go back to staring out of the window. All I want is to be home again, and to find Miles. I have to see him as soon as I possibly can.

  If I don’t, I feel like I’ll go mad.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Freya, you’re back!’

  ‘Welcome home, we’re so happy to see you!’

  The minute Jane-Elizabeth and I emerge from the lift into the main hallway, I’m engulfed by two pairs of arms, and two smiling faces are pressed against mine as my sisters run over and hug me hard. We haven’t been this united for a long time. I suppose that coming back from the dead does have its upsides: everyone feels all warm and fuzzy about you.

  Flora pulls away from me, a beaming smile on her face. ‘I can’t believe what you’ve been through! It’s amazing that you’re okay. Dad said your car crashed right off the mountain!’

  ‘We want to hear all about it,’ chimes in Summer.

  ‘It was kind of incredible,’ I reply, laughing at their puppyish enthusiasm.

  ‘Girls, let Freya get her breath back before you mob her!’ reproves Jane-Elizabeth. ‘Why don’t you all go through to the snug and I’ll have some tea sent in for you?’

  ‘That sounds great,’ I say happily. ‘You know what? I’d love some hot chocolate.’

  ‘Done,’ says Jane-Elizabeth. ‘I’ll ask for some food as well.’

  She goes off to talk to the cook as we head to the snug, the cosiest room in this chilly glass palace. As we go through the house, I think that the staff are smiling at me in a way I’ve never been aware of before – as though they’re genuinely pleased to see me.

  Miles’s remarks about what the people who work here really think of me come floating into my mind and I feel a hot burn of shame. I don’t like the way that makes me feel so I banish it quickly from my mind. I’ll think about it later, but in the meantime I resolve to be nicer if I can. At least my rescue seems to have put everyone in a good mood with me, which is a start.

  Where is he? I wonder. A tremor shimmers over my skin as I imagine him somewhere close. Dad said he was here at the house but I don’t think there’ll be any sign of him here in this part of it. The bodyguards are rarely seen on this floor, though I’ve never really thought about that before. They’ve always just disappeared when they’re not required, reappearing when necessary. It’s never occurred to me to wonder where they go. Now I imagine Miles several storeys beneath me on one of those floors I’ve never visited.

  If only I’d known what was here all along. If only I’d realised… How can I see him? What’s he doing right now?

  I have a delightful image of Miles in the shower, soaping his muscled arms and torso, hot water streaming over his dark head and running down his pecs and the hard solidness of his thighs. Mmm. That’s delicious. His eyes are closed as he turns his face to the shower of hot water. He’s clean and wet and incredibly enticing. In my imagination he turns his back to me so I can see the firmness of his buttocks with the dip on each side by the glute muscles. Turn around for me, Miles, show me that magnificent cock of yours… I imagine myself stepping naked into the shower with him, pressing myself against his back, the water dousing me in a hot stream. He turns, surprised, and I sink down to my knees to kiss his cock into stiffness, letting water fill my mouth and then treating him to his own personal bath inside my hot wet mouth. He’s magnificent, his length growing strong and hard, swelling under my ministrations as I lick and suck him…

  ‘Freya, are you all right?’ Summer is looking at me quizzically. ‘You’ve gone all glassy eyed.’

  ‘What?’ I jerk back to reality, almost startled to find I’m not in a hot shower administering tender oral attention to Miles’s erection. ‘Oh… sorry… just a flashback.’

  I’m forced to drag my thoughts away from Miles by my sisters who bombard me with questions, not letting me get an answer out before they ask something else.

  ‘Girls, one at a time!’ I say, holding my hands up and laughing. ‘Please! Let’s get settled and I’ll tell you everything.’

  In the snug, we sit down on the sofas in front of the fire. Three of them are placed around the fireplace and we each take one. Summer is facing me on the opposite sofa, her legs pulled up in front of her, her arms wrapped around her knees. ‘So come on!’ she urges. ‘Start from the beginning.’

  Flora lounges over hers, her russet brown hair spreading out on the cushions. She has a taste for striking attitudes, it’s all part of her dramatic nature. ‘We need to know everything,’ she announces.

  ‘The inside story,’ adds Summer. ‘Did you know you’ve been all over the news?’

  ‘I wondered when I saw the welcome-home committee outside the hospital. How did they all find out?’

  Flora shrugs. ‘Who knows how any of them ever find out anything? Dad tried to keep it quiet but once the search was on, the word spread very quickly. You can imagine how much the press loved the story. It was good enough when it looked as though you’d plummeted to your death off the mountain. It’s even better now that you’ve been miraculously rescued. Look.’ She picks up the television remote and clicks the TV on. Footage is playing and there I am, coming out of the hospital, Jane-Elizabeth at my side looking fierce as she holds up a hand to keep the reporters out of my face. Our driver is on my other side, one hand on my elbow as he steers us through the melee. I look pale but my dark glasses cover up most of my face. I’m just glad I washed my hair and put some make-up on – but I make a mental note to make an appointment with the hairdresser. My brown hair needs a proper blow-dry and some fresh lowlights to restore its sparkle, and my fringe definitely requires a trim.

  The voiceover is explaining that Freya Hammond was missing for two days after a car crash during an alpine storm. ‘Miss Hammond is said to be in surprisingly good health after her ordeal. Despite claims of a near-fatal crash and two days in sub-zero temperatures, there are no outward signs of injury. In fact, some sources are suggesting that this could be an elaborate stunt to win back her former boyfriend, Jacob Amsell.’

  I laugh out loud as the screen fills up with pictures of me and Jacob during our days together, frolicking on yachts, sunbathing on beaches and turning up to film premieres as the voiceover gives a précis of our relationship. It never occurred to me that anyone might think I’d somehow arranged to fake a crash – after all, it would be incredibly difficult to do such a thing even if such a crazy idea had occurred to me. I'd certainly have needed Miles's cooperation and it's hard to imagine getting him to agree to let one of my father's cars topple over the edge of a mountain just because I said so, and then disappear with me for two days. The press have an even wilder imagination that I gave them credit for – but I can see that it's a good story. As for the pictures of me with Jacob – just a short time ago, I’d have been cut to the core to see them and now I don’t care at all. He’s in the past. He was an asshole and now he’s history. A learning experience. One of the guys whose role in life is to teach us what we don’t want in a man.

  Now… there’s Miles.

  I lean over and click the remote. The sound stops abruptly and the picture vanishes.

  ‘It’s a good story,’ Flora says softly, looking over at me. ‘But there’s nothing in it. Right?’ She lifts her eyebrows enquiringly.

  I open my mouth to rebut the suggestion that I might have faked a car crash and put my family through hell just to win back that ridiculous lowlife, then stop. My sisters don’t know the truth about why Jacob and I broke up. Miles doesn't know the full story either, even though I confided part of it to him. No one knows, except Jacob, my father, our lawyers and me. Oh, and some hookers, if they ever recognised Jacob and heard what had happened between us.

  Maybe this story might
be a good way to deflect attention from what really happened.

  At the moment, everyone is just happy to see me back in one piece, but my father intends to find out what happened, and so do my sisters. Once it’s known that Miles and I spent two days and nights holed up together in a snowed-in mountain hut, surely it won’t be long before people begin to ask what happened between us during those long, dark, cold hours…

  ‘You didn’t!’ Summer says disbelievingly. ‘You didn’t cook this up, did you?

  She looks indignant and I can’t blame her. It would be terrible thing to do, and tempting though it might be to throw up a smokescreen, I can’t do it.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘Of course I didn’t. It’s a stupid idea. The press will get over all this in a day or two and all the ridiculous gossip will die down.’

  ‘They have a point, though, don’t they?’ Flora says, looking at me intently. ‘I mean, you look absolutely fine. You don’t have a mark on you.’

  I say nothing but unbutton my shirt and open it to display the livid bruise, now an interesting melange of purple, green and yellow, that crosses my chest, disappearing under my bra and coming out the other side.

  Summer gasps. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘The mark from my seatbelt. If I hadn’t been wearing that, then believe me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. And the car took most of the impact – you should have seen it. You wouldn’t have believed we could get out of there. But we did.’

  Flora bites her lip as she regards the mark on my chest. The twins really look nothing like each other. Summer has that blonde blue-eyed prettiness, but Flora has a pale russet look that's not exactly beauty but is very arresting. She has almond-shaped eyes and spikes her lashes out with lots of mascara to create a feline look. Now her eyes, brown like mine but speckled with hazel, look worried. ‘I didn’t really believe those stories about you faking the crash,’ she says, almost apologetically. ‘And now I can see that bruise…’ She gazes at me as I button up my shirt again. ‘I realise what a lucky escape you had.’