With that Laine turned on her high white heels and headed back to the table.
She had not known where the words had come from or why she had felt the need to defend her position. She knew however that she had felt more alive than she had for quite some time.
Her face was flushed and her pulse was racing, there was even the hint of a tremor in her hand as she walked back through the pub. The adrenaline was still pumping as she approached the table where Tony and Adam sat.
Without a second thought Laine, with the precision of an expert Harley Davidson rider, straddled Tony face-on and planted a long, passionate kiss firmly on his lips. Tony, although surprised by the kiss, did not draw away. Instead his hand found the small of her back and pulled her closer. Adam sat open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Damn, he thought, Laine was a very, very sexy woman, and a part of him felt uncomfortable witnessing this degree of passion from someone of whom he felt so protective.
Laine knew the moment her leg had swung west that she had crossed the line. This was only the second time they had kissed. Whether tonight or some other time she knew she would be sleeping with Tony and she knew that would spell trouble.
“I think I like you being my fake girlfriend”, Tony laughed.
The moment had come and gone so quickly. She was suddenly self-aware. God, have I lost all sense of control? she thought.
Karenna had pushed her over the edge and she now felt as if she were flying across a vast canyon unable to control the thermals below. As she uncoupled herself from Tony she saw Karenna heading towards them, her face red and swollen. In a split second she had thrown what appeared to be a pint of beer over them both, told them they were all fucking wasters, and disappeared out of the door.
The whole pub had erupted in laughter. The scene was like something out of a bad B-movie. Most of the drinkers in the Ship were hacks in one guise or another and nothing got them more excited than a bit of insider gossip, especially when it involved Tony Black. The gossip section of Melody Maker would be full of innuendos and references for weeks to come.
“I think the screening may have to take a back seat Adam. Looks like I’ll have to go home and change”, laughed Tony.
“Me too”, chipped in Laine, whose ripped t-shirt now looked slightly pornographic.
“Blow me”, said Adam, who was still trying to get to grips with the scene that had played out before him.
“I think you had a lucky escape Tony, she’s a real life crazy”. Adam did not know whether to laugh or be serious.
“Wow Laine - what on earth did you say to her?” asked Tony.
“I told her the truth, and as they say, the truth hurts. As our American friends say, I kicked her to the kerb.” Laine knew she had been more honest than she had needed to be with Karenna, and didn’t feel particularly great about it.
For the first time since the Holland Park incident she had taken a risk with Tony. Kissing him was stupid, she told herself, especially in such a public way. That was not her style at all, but it was something she had needed to do. She had felt threatened by this crazy girl and had in some really primal way needed to show the world how she felt. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The kiss left her in no doubt.
“I really need a change of clothes, sticky beer is not my style this early on in the evening”, said Laine, trying to use the bar towels the bar man had kindly brought over.
“Thank goodness you didn’t sleep with her”, said Adam, eagerly trying to catch Tony’s eye. A pause. “Tony, please tell me you didn’t sleep with her did you!?” Adam’s voice was now a few octaves higher.
After a pause, as if trying to double-check his memory bank, Tony answered, “No, thankfully not.” He was finding it increasingly hard not to stare at Laine. He wanted to will her into an explanation.
Her kiss had exploded inside of him and he needed to analyse and discuss it with her. He prayed she had kissed him for the right reasons and not because she was still playing the part he had set for her. He didn’t want to make any wrong moves or mistakes; she was way too precious to him for that.
“Looks like you’re on your own Adam, sorry old mate. I don’t think Mr Bowie would appreciate two industry types turning up smelling like a brewery to his London premiere”, said Tony as he wiped.
“Fair enough, wouldn’t be the first time though I’d guess”, shrugged Adam.
“I’ll get my cab to drop you off at the station, Laine, if that’s alright?” said Tony, trying to sound composed and distant as they all stood to leave.
“Yeah that would be good.” Laine had composed herself as best she could.
Outside the pub, Adam said his goodbyes. He was tempted to give Laine some fatherly advice but instead pecked her on the cheek gently and headed up Long Acre. She would have to make her own mistakes, he thought. Sadly it looked likely her biggest mistake would be his friend Tony Black.
“Victoria station please mate.” He didn’t want her to go home but it had to be her choice.
Gently, he took hold of her hand. It was hot and sticky. The smell of hops they were both emitting was warm and comforting. She gazed out of the window, still trying to “avoid” him. She felt embarrassed and completely overwhelmed with emotions. She was doing her best to hold it all together. Her mind on permanent rewind replaying over and over again. She had messed up. What now?
Tony broke through her thoughts. The touch of his hand felt reassuring.
“I know Danny’s away, Laine, and I don’t like the thought of you having to get back to the back of beyond tonight, especially after what just happened. Why don’t you come back to mine? It’s only twenty minutes away and I’ve plenty of hot water and fresh towels. No funny business, honest.” He was staring straight into her eyes.
“I’ll even wash and dry your clothes, and believe me that is not something I offer to do ever.”
If he were ever to stand a chance with this beautiful girl, it had to be what she wanted. He had over the last year hoped and yearned for her affection, her voice. Her smile had infected him, haunted him and now here was his chance to truly love her.
Laine knew two paths were now open. Head back to Brockley to the stable well-trodden life she knew, or go with Tony to Camden and into the unknown.
The taxi redirected and headed up Euston Road towards Camden Town.
Tony dared not look at her just in case it were not true. He marvelled as he looked out of the window at how good he felt. The pedestrians on the pavement without exception looked dour. All rushing, always rushing - looking but not seeing, not knowing that life, true life was being lived inside the innocuous black cab as it crawled past St Pancras station…how could they not know? How could they not tell that inside the clean black shiny taxi was something more valuable than many would ever understand? The sky was now grey, a quick shower had emptied the pavements temporarily; the ants disappeared into the underground and onto the overcrowded buses. The traffic became slower and the meter continued to tick. Thoughts of the evening played on continuous rewind in Tony’s head. Now was a new chapter in his life, one that he had desperately wanted for so long that the reality of the evening had not sunk in.
Despite their growing friendship Laine and Tony had never visited each other’s homes. Work friendships were different to “friend” friendships. Their meetings had always been on neutral ground and vaguely work-related. Tony turned the key into his four storey terraced Victorian home on Delancy Street. Laine was intrigued. “The private life of Tony Black”. Would it hold the same charge as the man himself?
It did. Tony’s house had been left to him by his grandmother in the mid 1970s. He had spent the first year living in one room as the rest of the house had been uninhabitable. Years of neglect had taken its toll on what was once a beautiful home.
Yet Tony had over the last seven years painstakingly renovated and crafted each room back to its original splendour. It was a bright house, the hallway a welcoming white with a hint of lemon. A sharp crisp white dado rail halfway up each wall.
A door to the left and right branched from the hallway. Sitting room to the right, dining room to the left. The sitting room was decorated in heritage greens and reds, complementing the classic walnut furniture which Tony had inherited. The space felt cosy and warm, the sort of room that begged for winter so that it could fully embrace you. The dining room was altogether more formal, cream with accents of duck-egg blue on the striped curtains and floor lamps. The dining table, again in walnut, had place settings for six with immaculate attention to detail. She wouldn’t be surprised if someone had got a tape measure out to check the distance between each setting.
For a rock and roller, Tony certainly had an eye for design and a nice bit of style too, thought Laine. He had spoken often of number 26 but to finally see it was sheer delight. In a funny way it was what she had expected it to be. Everything fitted, there were elements of new fused with old such as the old fashioned hall table next to the ultra-modern trim phone but it worked and worked well. It was a visual confirmation of the man himself. The house seemed familiar and she felt comfortable here.
Bags dropped in the hall, they headed straight ahead for the stairs. She caught a glimpse of the kitchen. A large Oak table strewn with papers seemed to take up most of the floor space. The most lived-in part of the house, one would assume.
The first floor contained three bedrooms and a large bathroom. A further two bedrooms and smaller bathroom lay on the second floor. Again the attention to detail was splendid. This had been a project of love and passion, she thought. Beautifully high ceilings gave the feel of gallery space decorated rooms. Each room retained its original elegance, ornate cast iron fireplaces coupled with deep timber floors sang out understated luxury.
Tony showed Laine the bathroom which was just as sumptuous as the rest of the house. The only modern addition was the shower room, which led off the main bathroom, probably a small box room that had been knocked through, she thought. “Here you go.” Tony handed her some large fluffy towels.
“I’ll be next door in the bedroom; if you need anything just holler.”
“Thanks”, said Laine, now feeling rather sticky from the dried beer in her hair.
She closed the door and looked around. The sash window at the far end of the room was frosted. A roman blind hung above it, below which sat a beautiful white 1900s radiator. To the left of the radiator, a traditional Victorian sink and to the right a roll-top bath on clawed gold feet. The door to the shower room lay directly opposite the main door. The marble floor was unexpected, but as with everything else in the house it worked.
Taking off her shoes, she felt the coldness of the marble floor. She quickly undressed and headed for the shower room. The shower itself was pretty easy to operate and within minutes she felt the warmth of the water starting to release the sticky residue from her hair. The room was filling with the steamy scent of yeasty beer.
She was in Tony’s house; in Tony’s shower. All that was missing was Tony. She smiled…would he join her if she asked?
As if he had been able to sense her need, he opened the door slightly.
“Do you need anything Laine?” he asked gently.
“Erm, yes, I need your help with something”, she replied, her heart pounding in her ears, her legs ever so slightly trembling.
Tony had been desperate to get out of his beer soaked clothes and had changed into a simple white cotton robe. The bathroom was steamy, a fine micronized mist hung in the air. He could make out the soft contours of Laine’s back through the shower screen. Beads of water hung like dew from her back.
Slipping out of his gown, he stepped into the shower and slipped his hand around her waist. She felt the need in her intensify; his left hand softly caressed her breast whilst his right hand smoothed circles across her stomach, his fingers delicately brushing her pubic hair with each cycle. His breath was hot on her neck and she could feel him hard and erect pushing gently between her cheeks. She turned, laying small soft kisses on his shoulders. With increased urgency she found his hot wet mouth. They were finding their own rhythm, writing their own song.
Taking her by the hand, he led her out of the shower room and onto the cold of the marble floor. It had taken on an almost ethereal quality - a soft sheen of satin mist hung eerily in the air. Laine lay on her back and splayed her legs, she felt as if she were on fire despite the coolness of the floor. She was being seduced, or she was the seducer, she didn’t know and didn’t care, these were just labels for what was ultimately the moment her soul chose life.
Here was the woman he knew had captivated him long ago, the women he had come to realise he loved with every ounce of his being and she was giving herself to him. Slow motion had taken charge of his thought processes, was he dreaming? Slowly but firmly he entered her. This was more than sex. Every fibre of him needed her, needed this, she had infected his soul and was now becoming embedded into every cell.
Laine lifted her legs around him and pushed herself further down onto his shaft. She was entwined at the very heart of his being but paradoxically felt a freedom she had never before experienced. A new chapter had been waiting in the wings to start its opening night, and now the stage was finally set.
Tony could hear the rain falling against the bathroom window. They had lain on the bathroom floor for some time, neither wishing to untie the knot of emotion that now bound them. Tony slowly moved Laine’s head and gently lowered it to the floor. He stood up, grabbing his gown, moving to turn off the shower. He opened the window a fraction to let out some of the steam.
Laine had not moved. She had not wanted the moment to end. She knew tough times were ahead for both of them.
The reality of the moment was becoming clearer by the second. Sitting up, she grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her. Her hair was soaking and had created a large puddle in the middle of the floor.
Laine was the first to speak. “I think I need another shower. This time on my own”, she said, half to herself.
Up until this point she had averted her gaze from his, although she knew he was willing her to look at him. As she raised her head their eyes met, hers a deep almost mystical steely blue, his a woody hazel. The longing that had initiated the initial intimacy had now gained a heartbeat and was growing; their eyes now had a different story to tell. Eyes were dangerous, able to give them both away to anyone with half a brain.
“I’ll get us something to eat and a drink”, said Tony. “You know what this means to me?” he asked, almost hesitantly. He looked down at Laine, who had not moved from her seated position on the floor, legs pulled up tight to her chest. He had asked the question of which he was least confident he knew the answer.
“‘Yes, I think I do”, she said, reaching up to take his now outstretched hand. Standing so close to her again he felt his desire growing. He gently brushed his fingers through her hair, easing her closer. At first, small gentle kisses. Laine led him across the room to the small wicker chair that sat in the corner.
Slowly she bent forward, arms lengthened and straight, the towel which had been wrapped around her head now crumpled on the still moist floor. Her hair, heavy and wet, trickled small water droplets over her bounteous breasts. Tony took hold of her hips and slowly entered her, deep and full. Could one woman really meet all of his needs?
At this one moment in time he knew the answer.
Her clothes stank like a brewery: there was no way she’d be wearing those again. Laine rummaged around and managed to find an old jumper of Tony’s. It was so oversized it could easily have been a mini dress. She made her way down the stairs, following the garlicky aroma to the kitchen. She could hear Talk Talk’s album The Party’s Over coming from the living room. Tony was dressed and busy dishing up what looked like pasta. They had made love in total three times before hunger had got the better of them. Somewhere along the way evening had turned into night. “Hope you’re hungry, I seem to have made enough to feed an army”, he said, looking at Laine. He placed the steaming bowls of pasta down onto the large farm
house table. It smelled good, all oniony and comforting – exactly the kind of food you would need after such a night. Yet everything seemed a little disjointed and awkward. They ate in silence, each of them trying to find the words that would signpost the way forward.
Tony put his fork down and stood up, taking her hand across the table. “Come here”, he said, gently pulling her towards him. Laine obeyed and was soon firmly in his embrace. Emotionally she was all over the place - pleasure and guilt at the same time was not a good combination, however you jazzed it up.
“Laine, both of us want this, don’t we?” he asked, hoping that her answer would marry with his feelings. Softly he caressed her face as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Taking a step back, she perched against the edge of the table, careful to avoid the half eaten bowl of pasta, and looked at him.
“Yes Tony we do, it’s just that, well, I….” Her voice trailed off into her own thoughts; she was unable to vocalise what it was she was feeling. Love-struck was a word she had heard - was that what she was experiencing? She didn’t know but it sounded right.
“Laine there is no pressure, absolutely none”, he said, as if reading her thoughts. “I know your situation, I always have, I must admit I was a bit surprised by the way this evening has turned out, but you and me, well we have been on this road for a while wouldn’t you say?” He looked longingly at her.
Laine nodded and lowered her gaze.
“But there is Danny…I don’t know what to do, he has been so good to me, and this is how I treat him.” Guilt was starting to find a voice within her mixed emotions. It was churning and carving its way into her psyche.
“Laine, I know it’s all my fault - to be honest I’ve been willing this to happen since we first met, hoping beyond hope that you would ditch Danny and be with me. At least one part of my wish has come true – the rest is down to you Lainey.” Tony reached out and placed a delicate kiss onto her hand. She knew he was right, she had to decide what she wanted to do - the rest was up to her. They had flirted, they had danced to the song of suggestion for over a year, and now here was the moment it had been leading to.
All Tomorrow's Parties Page 5
