by Grace Lowrie
But somehow our mutual affection for each other had developed into sexual attraction; I could no longer simply dismiss it as the effects of alcohol. With her loving touch, Celeste had introduced me to a whole new side of myself, allowed me to experience my own body in a way I’d previously thought impossible, but I wasn’t sure what it meant.
Chapter Twenty-eight
I perched on my chair at work, absolutely stunned. Out the window the sky was already darkening and I idly wondered where October had gone as my reflection gazed back at me wide-eyed. It was Friday evening and I’d just returned from a meeting in Evelyn’s office. My notebook was still in my hand, the pages blank – I hadn’t made any notes. I’d been too dumbfounded. I reached for my phone to call Celeste, the impulse to relay my news to her instinctive, like a reflex, but then I saw the time and remembered I was meant to be meeting her and Sebastian in a pub in Camden Town and I was already running late. I scrambled to gather my things and put my coat on, excitement fizzing in my tummy at the thought of seeing Sebastian – he had been away in New York all week but he was due back today, the three of us would be together again and I could barely contain myself.
I arrived at the pub that Freya had recommended to me months ago, just as it started to rain. I felt slightly bad that Freya wasn’t free to join us tonight, but secretly pleased to get Sebastian and Celeste all to myself. The building looked old, well established and welcoming with a newly refurbished interior. It was obviously popular – crowded and noisy, with punters spilling out of the doors onto the pavement, despite the cold and drizzle. As I pushed my way through the crowds I spotted the twins standing near the bar. Sebastian looked happy and relaxed, with a five o’clock shadow and ruffled hair. His shirt was open at the neck, his tie was missing, and his eyes sparkled as he raised an eyebrow and said something amusing to Celeste, before taking a swig from his bottle of beer.
Celeste laughed with her head thrown back, escaped tendrils of fair hair catching the light and framing her face. She was swathed in an elegant cream knitted dress, another of her creations that accentuated her petite frame in all the right places, and a pair of tall ruby heels that matched her lipstick as she sipped from a large glass of rosé. The couple stood out, drawing appreciative and envious glances from every other person in the room. Only I knew that they were not a couple, and that they were waiting for me.
The twins saw me simultaneously, greeting me with contagious smiles as a young acoustic rock band began tuning up on the small stage. Celeste embraced me enthusiastically, leaving lipstick on my cheek, whilst Sebastian helped me out of my coat and handed me a glass of wine. As the crowds swelled around us in anticipation of the music, Sebastian gently rubbed the lipstick smudge away with his thumb, igniting my nerve endings. A week apart only seemed to have made the physical pull between us stronger. I couldn’t look Sebastian in the eye for fear of giving myself away, especially in front of Celeste. I took a long gulp of wine instead.
‘I have news,’ I announced. Sebastian and Celeste looked at me expectantly and I couldn’t help grinning as I continued. ‘I just got a promotion!’
‘What! Are you serious?!’ Celeste enthused.
‘Yep. Evelyn has just asked me to take over as curator of an exhibition planned for next year.’
‘That’s wonderful, darling! What’s the exhibition?’ Celeste asked squeezing my hand excitedly.
‘Victorian Prints, Drawings, and Watercolours.’
‘Are they giving you a pay rise?’ Sebastian asked.
‘Yes! And I get two assistants!’
‘Congratulations,’ he said with a warm smile.
‘Thank you. I can’t really believe it.’
‘You so deserve it though, darling – it’s about time all your talent and hard work was recognised.’ Celeste chinked my glass with hers.
‘We should be drinking champagne,’ Sebastian said.
‘No, no, I’m fine with this, thank you – it’s been a long week.’
‘In that case we should celebrate properly another night – somewhere really special,’ Celeste suggested.
‘I think I might know just the place,’ Sebastian said, taking a drink.
‘Please don’t go to any trouble,’ I said, amused.
‘Where?’ Celeste asked Sebastian, ignoring me.
‘There’s a Halloween party happening next weekend – Saturday night I think, I can try to get tickets?’
‘Will it be glamorous?’ Celeste asked.
Sebastian rolled his eyes. ‘Of course.’
‘Where is it?’ Celeste narrowed her eyes at her brother.
‘You’ll just have to wait and see,’ Sebastian smirked, before winking at me.
The band, a four piece consisting of two guitar-playing singers, a drummer, and a cellist began their set. It was a melodic, emotional blend of indie rock tunes, some of which they’d written themselves and some they were covering. The two singers, one male and one female, complemented each other beautifully and their intrinsic appeal instinctively lured people in, making the crowd swell. I was forced to edge backwards and soon Sebastian was the only thing shielding me from the hard rim of the bar. Celeste carved out a small space close beside me in which to sway. She held my hand; her fingers surreptitiously stroking mine as if alluding to something else. I had a better understanding of my own body since Celeste had so expertly enlightened me, but nothing could prepare me for the physical hunger I was now feeling, pressed up against Sebastian. I tried not to squirm against the rigid outline of his erection as the intense arousal in his body radiated, unseen, into mine. The music was loud enough to preclude conversation, but as the band’s sinuous sounds surrounded us, I revelled in the almost unbearable tension of the twins’ company.
‘So, when are you going to move in with us?’ Sebastian muttered in my ear, while the band took a break and Celeste was in the ladies.
His question caught me off guard and I felt flustered. ‘I … I don’t know … I don’t want to give up my flat, but I could rent it out …’
‘Yes.’
‘And if I move in I want to contribute to the bills –’
‘There’s no need.’
‘There is a need –’
‘Natasha, we won’t take your money – we don’t need it; don’t want it.’
‘But it’s not about you – I need to feel some sort of independence – I want to pay my own way, to some extent at least – you and Celeste have given me so much already.’
‘Fifty quid a week,’ Sebastian muttered.
I scoffed, ‘That’s nothing!’
‘Take it or leave it, we won’t accept more than that.’
‘Have you even asked Celeste?’
‘I don’t have to – I know she’ll agree with me,’ Sebastian said confidently and I suspected he was right. ‘So? What’s stopping you, Natasha?’
As he said my name, his mouth tantalisingly close to my neck, I couldn’t think of a single reason. The twins made me happy. I already spent every weekend at their house and some week nights too. And it was exhausting, living out of a bag, packing and unpacking all the time with half my things in one place and half in another.
‘OK,’ I said, taking a large gulp of wine.
‘Was that a yes?’ I heard the surprise in Sebastian’s voice and couldn’t help laughing as I nodded.
‘What’s so funny?’ Celeste asked as she squeezed in beside me.
‘I’ve convinced Natasha to move in with us,’ Sebastian said casually.
‘Seriously?’ Celeste gasped. ‘How did you manage that?’
‘I explained that I’d feel happier knowing that you’re not alone when I’m away … and I’ve agreed Natasha can pay us fifty quid a week in rent.’ I felt Sebastian’s shrug.
‘Tasha! We don’t want your money,’ Celeste scowled at me.
‘Fifty quid is hardly anything!’ I exclaimed in exasperation. ‘I want to contribute!’
‘OK, OK,’ Celeste put her hands up in defeat. ‘I
don’t care as long as you’re really moving in! When can you do it? How about this weekend? I can arrange for a removals company to do all the packing for you – you won’t have to lift a finger.’
I laughed out loud. ‘Are you crazy?’
‘Quite possibly,’ Sebastian muttered.
‘Oh, thank you, Tasha,’ Celeste said, squeezing me tightly in a hug. ‘Now we have two things to celebrate next weekend!’
Chapter Twenty-nine
The very next day I found myself directing three muscle-bound men as they briskly packed my meagre possessions in the cramped confines of my flat. It was all happening so fast that it didn’t seem real. Twice I almost landed on my arse as I attempted to step out of the way and caught my heel on a box behind me. Sebastian and Celeste were outside overseeing the loading of the removals van while I desperately tried to label boxes as they were packed. We’d only been here a few short hours and already the flat was almost bare, apart from the furniture, of course, but that had all been bought second-hand in charity shops so I was happy to leave it for my future tenants to use. I was amazed that Celeste had been able to organise everything at such short notice and I dared not think how much it must have cost, but her excitement was contagious.
As the last boxes were carried away I stood and looked around at my little home, now stripped of any personal touches. I was confident I was making the right decision – I wanted to be with Sebastian and Celeste more than anything and I still owned my flat; I would always be able to return to it in the future, if things didn’t work out.
Heading downstairs I locked my front door and braced myself to say goodbye to Andrea. She had become a good friend over the years; from time to time she and her partner Ruth invited me over for dinner at their house in Acton where they lived with their three over-affectionate chocolate Labradors. Andrea was surprised at my sudden departure and understandably anxious to know what the new tenants would be like.
I entered the shop just as she was putting a card transaction through the till – a woman with white hair and jaunty turquoise-rimmed spectacles had just purchased a beautifully fragrant hand-tied arrangement of roses, lilies, and carnations in pinks and whites. She thanked Andrea effusively before leaving the shop with her nose buried in the blooms and a smile on her face.
‘Hey,’ Andrea greeted me.
‘Your job must be so satisfying,’ I commented. ‘Bringing people joy all day.’
‘Yes, for the most part I’m very lucky,’ Andrea conceded as she cleared away a pile of cut stem ends and started to assemble a small bouquet of lavender-coloured freesias and delicate white chrysanthemums.
‘I’m going to miss all the wonderful scents as I go in and out.’
‘I still can’t believe you’re going! I have to admit though – he’s cute …’ Andrea grinned as she tipped her chin in Sebastian’s direction on the pavement outside. He was dressed in faded, bum-hugging jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows despite the chilly weather. The outline of his muscles could be seen flexing beneath his clothes as he passed boxes to one of the removals guys inside the van. He looked young and strong and gorgeous.
‘Oh, no, he’s my friend’s brother – I’m moving in with my friend Celeste.’
‘I know – you said – but didn’t I see her brother leaving your flat one morning a little while ago?’ Andrea grinned.
I glanced nervously over my shoulder to check that Celeste wasn’t in earshot but thankfully she wasn’t. ‘No, I mean, yes, but it’s not what you think – we’re just friends,’ I added lamely.
‘Don’t worry,’ she chuckled, ‘I won’t breathe a word!’
‘Thank you,’ I sighed.
Andrea was neatly wrapping a length of purple twine around the posy stems. ‘It looks like that truck is pretty full.’
‘Yeah, we’re just about done – the agency has booked someone to come and give the place a good going over this afternoon. Actually, would you mind giving them this key when they arrive?’ I separated my old front door key from the others and slid it onto the counter. The shiny new keys to the twins’ house still gave me a buzz.
‘Of course not.’
‘Thanks. I’ll be meeting a letting agent here on Monday evening, but otherwise …’
‘So this is goodbye, for now.’
‘Yeah, I guess it is.’ I shrugged and Andrea stepped out from behind the counter to wrap me in a bear hug.
‘Don’t be a stranger – pop in and say hello when you get the chance,’ she said over my shoulder.
‘I will,’ I said as she released me.
‘Here – these are for you.’ Andrea held out the delicate bunch of flowers.
‘Oh, thank you! They’re beautiful,’ I said, a lump in my throat.
‘Go on; get going before you make me blub.’
‘OK, thank you, Andrea. Take care,’ I called back, stepping out into the street.
‘Oh, how lovely!’ Celeste exclaimed, bounding up to me and inhaling deeply. The truck was packed, the three guys were already crammed in the front seat, and Sebastian was leaning casually against his car, his hair dishevelled and his arms crossed.
‘Ready to go?’ he asked gently.
‘Yes,’ I said resolutely as Celeste took my hand.
Back at the twins’ house, our home, in Holland Park, Celeste and I made tea and a round of toasted ham and cheese sandwiches in the kitchen while Sebastian directed the removals men upstairs. There was an empty store room off the landing halfway between the first and second floors large enough to hold all the boxes that I didn’t need to unpack (my kitchen stuff – crockery, cutlery, saucepans, etc.) I was perfectly willing to put them into storage elsewhere but Celeste insisted that it would be a waste of money when they had plenty of space. The idea of offsite storage understandably made her nervous. There was a similar storage room on the landing above which was full of Sebastian’s framed architectural photographs, neatly lined up against the walls like dominoes. Celeste and I had spent several evenings sorting through them, now that I’d agreed to curate Sebastian’s show. He was stubbornly determined to pay me an extortionate fee for my services, but arguing with him wasn’t likely to change his mind so I had resolved to create an exhibition he would be proud of.
It was only after lunch, when the movers had gone, that I discovered that the shelves in my bedroom had already been cleared to make way for all my things. Sebastian started unpacking my books and arranging them neatly, alphabetically by author, whilst Celeste set about reorganising my entire wardrobe with glee. We listened to an eclectic mix of CDs on my antiquated music system while we worked. Next to the lovely old writing desk in the window was a reclaimed glass-fronted cabinet which Celeste had purchased online – she’d been trying to entice me to move in at the time and thought it would be perfect for housing my various little treasures, and she was right. I carefully unwrapped my Mela Koehler prints, the framed photographs of my parents and my uni housemates, my Venetian glass bowl (a gift from Sam), a carved stone box from a brief trip to Malta, a small bronze art nouveau figurine that my parents had given me for my twenty-first birthday, and a hand-painted pottery jug that I mostly used to display flowers in. I popped Andrea’s posy of flowers into the jug with some water and set it by the bed.
By the time we had finished unpacking and stood back to survey the effect, twilight was spreading in from outside. My things looked remarkably comfortable in Celeste’s opulently styled interior, our tastes somehow harmonizing in the space. I noticed that someone had tucked my dog-eared photo of Celeste and I in Brighton, into its familiar place behind the top right corner of the mirror; a thoughtful touch that brought another lump to my throat. The whole room really felt like home. I smiled as Celeste leaned tiredly against her brother and smiled back at me with satisfaction.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered as tears threatened to fall.
‘Oh, darling,’ Celeste cried as she surged forwards and pulled me into a hug. The three of us held eac
h other tight, savouring the moment, as the sun slipped below the horizon.
Chapter Thirty
As I entered the Tower of London on Sebastian’s arm I was unable to keep from gaping. The landmark, medieval architecture with its history-steeped arching stone walls and solid oak columns, was breath-taking in its own right, but tonight – dramatically up-lit and adorned with cobwebs, pumpkin lanterns, candelabras, and fresh flowers – it was positively sensational. A disc jockey installed in the corner of the King’s Great Hall was playing Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ for the crowd already dancing in the centre of the room – a surreal mix of skeletons, kings, vampires, pirates, and queens, all happily strutting to the beat amid clouds of dry ice. In an adjoining room majestic inanimate suits of armour and various magnificent historical exhibits lined the walls behind plate glass and Celeste giggled at the look of astonishment that must have been written all over my face despite my heavy make-up.
I was dressed as a witch. Although with Celeste’s help I was at least a stylish witch – clad in an Audrey Hepburn-style, floor-length, black shift dress with a split up to my thigh, matching long black satin gloves, and a tall, pointy, black hat. Celeste had darkened my hair, whitened my already pale skin and ringed my eyes with smoky grey makeup. I almost felt incognito.
Celeste was wearing her white bride-like dress, the one she’d worn for their house-warming party back in July. She’d whitened her hair, made up her face like mine and donned a long, delicate veil, which completed her ghostly look. She was enigmatic and disturbing and if she wasn’t so young and pretty she would’ve reminded me of a tragic Miss Havisham.
Sebastian looked sexy as hell despite the fact that his only concession to the Halloween dress code was to team his tuxedo with a mask. But it was a white Phantom of the Opera mask, which covered the right side of his face, leaving his scar exposed and making him look both dangerous and alluring in equal measure. Together the three of us made quite a striking trio.
As we explored more parts of the Tower, I marvelled at the extraordinary atmosphere, but also at the number of people present – there must’ve been hundreds. The New Armouries, a large white-panelled, oak-beamed room, had once been a store room during the civil war but was now a banqueting suite. Long tables decorated with swags of flowers and laden with hot food wrapped around the sides of the room, releasing mouth-watering aromas. The centre of the room was scattered with beautifully adorned tables and a string quartet played haunting, classical tunes as people helped themselves to the buffet. Celeste skipped straight over to the nearest bar and passed us glasses of complimentary champagne.
