The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by Cheryl Mildenhall

  The three women strained to hear what was being said. Surprisingly no voices were being raised and Chloe appeared amazingly relaxed and in control. When she returned to their table she was beaming from ear to ear. Without a word she sat down and resumed her meal, enjoying the suspense that she was creating.

  Finally Alicia gave in. ‘Well?’

  Chloe smirked, picked up her napkin and dabbed her mouth. She looked at the expectant faces of her friends. ‘She’s just an apprentice, nothing more.’

  Alicia let out a low whistle. ‘Thank goodness, now perhaps we can relax and enjoy the rest of our meal.’

  ‘You must be joking.’ Chloe was already rising from her seat. ‘He said he’d meet us back at the Hall in ten minutes.’

  As it turned out, Chloe never did get to meet up with Torran that night. When they arrived back at the Hall she was met by a worried-looking Fearn who said that there had been an urgent telephone call for her from her husband. By the time Chloe got through to Gus and found out that his crisis amounted to nothing more than being unable to find a favourite tie, it was well past midnight and Torran had gone to bed. Although she didn’t say anything the next morning, Hillary suspected that Chloe had lain awake most of the night waiting for him in vain.

  Reports on the radio promised another scorching hot day and the possibility of thunderstorms by evening. Alicia said she couldn’t face another day on the beach, not even the naturist one and suggested a trip to Norwich. Chloe and Odile agreed but Hillary shook her head. She knew it would end up becoming yet another shopping trip and couldn’t bear the thought of tramping along dusty pavements in the stifling heat trailing in and out of endless shops.

  ‘Oh, Hill, you’re such a party pooper,’ Alicia complained. ‘Apart from going to Newmarket yesterday you haven’t wanted to go anywhere other than the beach.’

  Chloe bit into a piece of toast; speaking with her mouth full, she exclaimed, ‘You can’t blame her, Alix, not when she knows that musclebound Viking is likely to be waiting for her.’

  Alicia nodded in agreement.

  ‘Haldane is not a Viking,’ Hillary protested, although she had to admit Chloe had a point. ‘Besides,’ she mumbled, almost petulantly, ‘I wasn’t planning to go to the beach today.’

  ‘No? Oh, but I forgot, if you lie around her long enough you’re bound to run into some young stud who’ll screw the arse off you.’

  ‘You bitch!’ Hillary started to rise from her chair; she had come close to slapping Chloe a few times during the past week, perhaps now was the right time.

  Alicia put a placatory hand on her shoulder. ‘Calm down, Hilly, she didn’t mean to be nasty.’ Then she turned to Chloe, the barely controlled anger evident in her voice. ‘That was totally uncalled for, Chloe, I think you should apologise to my sister right now.’

  Despite the anger bubbling away inside her, Hillary couldn’t help smiling to herself at Alicia’s use of the words ‘my sister’. They may have had their differences over the years but any attempt by an outsider to denigrate one of them automatically resulted in Hillary and Alicia closing ranks.

  Chloe smiled wanly. ‘I’m sorry, Hillary. I seem to have a bit of a blind spot where Torran is concerned.’

  Hillary nodded. That was true enough. She suspected that for all her posturing and bravado Chloe was not the femme fatale she made herself out to be and it was obvious she couldn’t accept that what had happened with Torran was a one-off, nothing more than a bit of fun. Deciding she could afford to be magnanimous, Hillary returned Chloe’s smile with one of genuine friendship and assured her that there was no harm done.

  Shortly afterwards the four women drifted off to their respective bedrooms to dress in whatever they considered most appropriate for their planned activity. In Hillary’s case this meant her customary bikini and sarong.

  As soon as the others had left she settled herself on a sun lounger on the patio. At Odile’s request she kept the cordless telephone on the table next to her, in case Theo should ring to say he could come over to England at the weekend after all. She also had a jug of iced fruit juice and a book that she borrowed from Alicia’s room.

  At first all was silent. Everyone from the main house was out: Torran at the glass works and Fearn gone by taxi to the nearby resort of Hunstanton. She read her book for a while until, enervated by the heat, she put it down, removed her bikini top and simply lay back and toasted herself.

  She had just fallen into a half-doze, dreaming that she was adrift on a desert island, her every whim being attended to by a tribe of virile young natives who all looked Italian, when the telephone buzzed harshly beside her. Groggily she reached out and brought it to her ear.

  ‘What are you wearing?’

  The voice was smooth and deep, as sultry as the air around her. For a second she wondered if she was still dreaming but the same question issued forth from the receiver. Her body tingled in response as she recognised the speaker as Darius, the situation reminding her of a scene in a film she had once seen where a girl had described her near-naked state to her lover over the telephone, arousing herself as she did so. She stretched voluptuously and put on her sexiest voice.

  ‘I’m not wearing very much at all, just a little pair of knickers, my breasts are completely naked and . . .’

  Darius’s voice interrupted her, this time he sounded much less sensuous. ‘I think you misunderstand me. Hillary, isn’t it?’

  Hillary nodded, then, finding her voice, squeaked into the telephone that it was indeed her.

  Darius’s response was terse. ‘I thought so.’

  ‘What did you want, Darius?’ Hillary snapped, her previous feelings of irritation with him resurfacing.

  ‘I actually wanted to enquire what you intended wearing to my party tomorrow night. I thought it only fair to let you know that it will be quite a dressy affair, just in case you and your southern friends were labouring under the misapprehension that Norfolk society is comprised of hicks and yokels.’

  ‘I, we never . . .’ Hillary broke in but Darius was still in full flow.

  ‘The last thing I want is for you all to turn up dressed for a beach barbecue, or city disco, you’ll only embarrass yourselves.’

  All he’s worried about is that we won’t embarrass him, Hillary thought to herself angrily – how dare he! She almost felt like telling him where to stick his invitation but she knew if she did that Alicia and Chloe would never forgive her.

  She fought to control her tone. ‘Your concern is touching but I can assure you we are perfectly capable of dressing and conducting ourselves with decorum.’ If she could have put her hands down the telephone and throttled him she would have done so.

  ‘Good, then I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow,’ Darius concluded tersely. Just as she thought his call was over, he spoke again, only this time his tone had softened considerably. ‘I hope I haven’t upset you, Hillary.’

  ‘Of course not,’ she answered stiffly. Damn him! For some inexplicable reason she actually felt relieved he had said this.

  He apologised again and also apologised for disturbing her, then rang off leaving Hillary plagued by a seething mass of conflicting emotions. On the one hand Darius Harwood was a charming, handsome man, extremely eligible and desirable and, although he was the total opposite of Haldane, she felt drawn to him sexually. In complete contrast to this charming, sexy self, he was also aggravating and insufferably patronising, often inciting disturbingly angry and violent thoughts within her. In some ways, she thought, she would be relieved when her holiday ended and she could put some distance between herself and Darius. Hopefully it would be a case of out of sight being out of mind.

  Lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the front doorbell ring and was startled to hear heavy footsteps approaching through the gardens. Shading her eyes with her hand, she craned her neck to see who it was, concerned that she was hardly dressed to receive a visitor. It was a man, but the glare of the sun made it impossible for her to see his face. She
used her other hand and arm to cover her naked breasts. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘I came to apologise again, in person.’ It was Darius.

  Now that he was standing closer to her she could see him clearly, although the moment he spoke she recognised his voice. He sat down easily on one of the garden chairs and stared openly at her. Hillary felt her mouth go dry and her cheeks glow with embarrassment. Why did he always make her feel at such a disadvantage?

  ‘There was really no need.’ She was referring to his most recent apology.

  ‘I thought there was,’ he stated in a tone that dared her to contradict. Then he said, a wicked smile touching the corners of his mouth, ‘When you told me on the telephone how little you were wearing I couldn’t resist coming over here to ogle.’

  Despite her better judgement, she found her anger with him receding, his words and the way he looked at her sending small thrills of erotic excitement coursing through her near-naked body. She looked at him, then quickly looked away – his expression was disturbingly insolent, obviously mirroring his thoughts.

  He rose from his chair and took two steps towards her, knelt in front of her and with slow deliberation removed the arm that shielded her breasts. As soon as he had exposed her to his gaze he gave a low murmur of appreciation.

  Hillary felt herself growing warm as he gave her a long, lingering stare.

  ‘You have a superb body, but I expect many men have told you that already,’ he said.

  Hillary sighed, wondering if she was being oversensitive as she picked up his use of the word many. Her mind instantly jumped back to a few days earlier when he had entered their kitchen and remarked on her sexual excesses. Who, and however many, she chose to sleep with was really no concern of his.

  She was just about to tell him so when he stood up, smoothing the creases in his trousers. Smiling down at her, he informed her that he really couldn’t stay, his explanation being that he had to go to a local tree nursery and pick out some saplings. Hillary felt deflated. He always seemed to deliberately stir up her emotions, whether lust, anger or whatever, and then leave her high and dry. She felt tears of frustration prick the backs of her eyelids and, not trusting herself to speak, merely nodded silently.

  After he had left she picked up her book once again, determined not to give him another thought. But, against her will, his image hung around in the back of her mind, taunting her until finally she slammed the book shut, rolled over onto her stomach and willed her mind to go completely blank. Eventually she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  By the time Chloe, Alicia and Odile returned she had awoken feeling totally rested, read almost all of the book and was cheerfully preparing dinner for them. A walk to the village in the late afternoon had restored her spirits and she had returned laden with good things to eat.

  ‘Mmm, this is a lovely surprise.’ Alicia peered into the casserole dish that Hillary had just removed from the oven. ‘Ooh, chicken chasseur, my favourite.’

  Hillary smiled. She had decided to cook that particular dish by way of an unspoken thank you to her sister for supporting her at breakfast against Chloe’s uncalled-for attack. Although she had to admit that even Chloe was looking much more relaxed – she offered to peel the potatoes which Hillary knew to be one of her least favourite chores. All in all, it was a happy band who sat down around the scrubbed pine table that evening to enjoy the simple pleasures of good food, fine wine and lighthearted conversation.

  Odile was just describing how Alicia had nearly run over a policeman’s foot as she was trying to park in an awkward space when the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky. A few minutes later it was followed by an ominous roll of thunder. Large drops of rain spattered against the window, their momentum gathering until there was a torrent. They stared out at the patio which was beginning to look more like a swimming pool.

  ‘Thank goodness we had the foresight to put the garden furniture away,’ Alicia muttered.

  Chloe put a hand to her head. ‘Storms always give me a headache,’ she complained to no one in particular.

  After a few minutes they returned to their meal but the constant interruption of the thunder and lightning made conversation impossible. They finished eating in silence and adjourned to the sitting room where they attempted to play Scrabble.

  ‘It’s no good, I just can’t think.’ Odile flopped back in her chair, exasperation showing on her face – she had just tried to spell the word ‘brick’ using the letter ‘k’ twice instead of ‘ck’.

  ‘Okay, well let’s play something else.’ Hillary opened the door to the sideboard and considered their options, Trivial Pursuit, Monopoly or Ludo.

  Alicia put her hand on Hillary’s arm. ‘I don’t think any of us are really in the mood.’

  Hillary nodded and shut the door again, gathering up the Scrabble tiles without another word.

  Alicia and Chloe both rose to their feet, yawning. ‘I’m off to bed,’ they said in unison.

  Without looking up, Hillary nodded, finished picking up the Scrabble pieces and stowed the box away in the sideboard before sitting down heavily in the armchair Alicia had just vacated. She gave a tired sigh and glanced at Odile. The young woman was as white as a sheet.

  ‘I hate storms, don’t you?’ Hillary offered kindly. In reality she rather liked the unrestrained drama of them but she could see that Odile was petrified.

  The young woman nodded, curling her legs under her until she looked as though she was trying to revert back to the womb. Hillary picked up the book that she had been reading earlier. Alicia had complained at first about Hillary borrowing it before she’d even had a chance to read it herself but then relented and said it didn’t matter because she had bought another book in Norwich that she was dying to start. They sat in companionable silence until, about an hour later, the telephone rang. Hillary stretched out a lazy hand to answer it. The caller was Torran asking for Chloe.

  A few minutes later Chloe herself popped her head around the doorway. ‘Worst luck, Torran rang to say that he was going to stay with a friend tonight. He didn’t fancy travelling back from King’s Lynn in this weather – the roads are treacherous by all accounts.’

  Hillary marvelled at the way Chloe’s mind worked. ‘Well, thank you for the bulletin,’ she remarked sarcastically. Obviously Torran and Chloe were now an item.

  Odile stood up. ‘I think I’ll go to bed,’ she said in a small, tight voice.

  The book held Hillary’s attention for another half an hour or so and then she closed it, with a sigh, deciding to give in to the storm and go to bed like everyone else already had. She took the book with her to her room, undressed, climbed into bed and opened it again.

  She looked at the pages with unseeing eyes as thoughts of Darius intruded on her mind once again. Eventually she gave up trying to read, switched off her bedside lamp and lay back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Presently she felt her eyelids begin to droop.

  Some time later she sensed someone climbing into bed beside her; the mattress dipped slightly then the silence was broken by the sound of light breathing that wasn’t her own. Keeping her eyes tightly closed, Hillary considered the possibilities: she was still asleep and therefore dreaming, the house was haunted, or someone was genuinely occupying the space next to her in bed. Dismissing the first as impossible and the other two options as highly unlikely she pondered what to do, then a hand touched her leg. Immediately she sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. She found herself looking into Odile’s frightened face.

  ‘I’m sorry, Hillary, I know it’s stupid of me but I was afraid. I couldn’t sleep on my own.’ Then she added, ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

  Despite her surprise Hillary breathed a sigh of relief then she turned off the light and lay back against the padded head-board, looking down at Odile through the gloomy half-light.

  ‘It’s okay. You just gave me a fright, that’s all, I thought you were a ghost.’ Hillary gave a rueful laugh and Odile smiled crookedly.
/>   ‘I’ll try not to disturb you,’ she promised, moving right over to the edge of the bed.

  They lay still and unspeaking for a few minutes with Hillary feeling inexplicably tense. She reasoned that it was because she hadn’t shared a bed with a person of her own sex since she and Alicia were children and had been forced to double up when relatives came to stay at the family home. She didn’t like to admit the real reason for her disquiet. After a few moments she closed her eyes tightly and prayed for sleep. Slowly, their release unbidden, memories floated through her brain, snatches of conversation sounding as real to her ears at that moment as if the words were being freshly spoken.

  It was the first time all four women had gone to the beach together and they were lying on the hot sand talking about men and sex and themselves. Odile had said Theo was only her second male lover, making it clear that she was bisexual. At the time Hillary had laughed at Alicia’s and Chloe’s shocked faces but now she felt gauche, uncomfortable with the knowledge that Odile had the capability of finding other women sexually attractive.

  She tried to reason with herself that Odile was straight now. She had Theo and they enjoyed a very vigorous and satisfying physical relationship. Hillary laughed inwardly. She was making the classic assumption that gay or bisexual people would prey on anyone who happened to be around, which she knew logically was not the case at all.

  Odile must have been reading her mind. ‘I’m not planning to seduce you, Hillary.’

  Hillary laughed aloud but even to her own ears it sounded false. ‘I – I know, I wasn’t . . .’ She trailed off, embarrassed.

  Turning on her side to face her, Odile said perceptively, ‘You were remembering that day on the beach.’

  Almost unwillingly, Hillary looked into her pale-green eyes. ‘Yes. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help wondering.’ She felt the warmth rise in her cheeks.