by Lesley Lokko
In the room above Diana, Niela was also getting ready. She stood up and walked over to the wardrobe; inside was a full-length mirror. She looked at her reflection. The long white evening dress she and Anna had seen in the window of Next on Oxford Street had been a good buy. She’d thought it a little plain but Anna, as always, was full of practical advice. ‘You’ll never have as much money to spend as the rest of them,’ she’d advised. ‘So keep it simple.’ She was still looking at herself when the bathroom door opened and Josh walked into the room. He’d just come out of the shower; he wore a towel wrapped around his waist and was still dripping water over the floor. Niela looked at him in the mirror. She could never quite get used to the sight of his naked body, despite its growing familiarity. She would certainly never walk around in front of him like that, she thought to herself, trying not to stare. Josh, of course, was oblivious. He was as comfortable in his nudity as he was fully dressed. ‘Boarding school,’ he’d once told her, smiling. ‘You get used to it.’ Well, she never would.
He came up behind her, his body still damp from the shower. She felt her own body begin to flush with that peculiar mixture of desire and embarrassment that looking at Josh always produced. He smiled at her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘You’d better get dressed,’ she said, wriggling out of his damp embrace. ‘We’re supposed to be downstairs in ten minutes.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Pity. You know, I was sort of hoping …’ He reached for her suddenly and pulled her towards him.
‘Josh! No … I’ll wrinkle my dress,’ Niela half-squealed. ‘And you’re still wet. No … look out! You’re dripping all over me!’
‘Take it off,’ he murmured against her ear. ‘Or it really will get wrinkled.’
‘Josh … no … don’t …’
But it was pointless and too late. She stood still whilst he unzipped the dress and let it fall to the ground. He picked it up, one hand still on her waist, and with the other tossed it on the bed, straightening it out quickly before turning back to her. ‘Is the door locked?’ she whispered as his lips made a snail’s trail of light kisses across her neck and shoulder blades. He shook his head but didn’t break his stride or his concentration. ‘Should I lock it?’ He shook his head again.
‘No one’s going to come in,’ he murmured. ‘Stop worrying. We’ve got ten minutes. I’ll be quick. And I know you will be.’ Niela suppressed a smile. It was something of a joke between them. He only had to touch her and she was ready, and the ease with which he coaxed pleasure out of her was astonishing to them both. She turned until she was fully in his arms. It took him less than a second to expertly dispose of her bra and for her to step out of her panties … he pushed her back gently until she was lying on the bed. Her whole body was flushed with desire. He laced the fingers of one hand through hers, pinning her arm above her head. He let his other hand trail down the trembling line of her stomach, touching her lightly, stroking the soft wetness between her legs. He lay beside her for a moment, then turned her body towards him until she was lying on top of him. He knew it embarrassed her to be on top, but he seemed to delight in her shyness. She shook her head in half-hearted protest but he was insistent. She slid on top of him easily; he closed his eyes and the sight of his face almost brought her to the edge of her own pleasure. He thrust into her slowly, his fingers never letting go. She let her body lean towards him, her nipples barely grazing his stomach, and was rewarded by a groan. ‘Niela …’ His voice hung in the air as his breathing grew deeper and stronger. He thrust again, once, twice … She felt a cool rush of air against her back as he exploded inside her, but her eyes were closed, and when she opened them again, the coolness had disappeared.
Julia shut the door as quietly as she could with her eyes tightly closed. Her heart was thumping. She backed away from it, almost too afraid to turn around in case someone had seen her. She could hear footsteps coming up the first flight of stairs; she remained where she was, frozen with embarrassment and fear, until they’d died away. She wanted to run from what she’d just seen. She’d come up to Niela’s room just to see if she was ready, or if there was anything she needed … no, that wasn’t quite true. She’d come to see what Niela was wearing and to check her own outfit against hers. Aaron had gone downstairs to help Diana, so she’d nipped upstairs in her bare feet, hoping for a quick look at Niela’s dress. She’d opened the door and it took her a second to work out what she was looking at. Josh. His face looking directly at her over Niela’s unseeing form. She’d taken in the smooth, dark brown line of Niela’s back, her perfectly rounded buttocks and thighs, and realised – too late – that she’d walked in on them having sex. She’d backed out so quickly and quietly that Josh didn’t even have time to register that it was her, or so she hoped. But the sight of his beautiful face contorted in its own secret lust was enough to send a corresponding red-hot flash of desire through her that almost completely hollowed her out. That was why she’d backed away so quickly. That was why her heart was racing and her palms were clammy. Josh … She gave a small groan of despair and fled as quietly as she could back down the stairs. To her horror, Aaron was coming up the first flight directly towards her.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as he gained the landing. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘N-nothing … I … I just needed a … a safety pin,’ she lied. ‘I just went to see if … if Niela had one, that’s all.’
‘Oh. You look awfully hot,’ Aaron said, looking at her with a puzzled expression. ‘Have you been running or something? Your face is bright red.’
‘Must be the shower … it was boiling.’ Julia hated herself for lying, but what could she say? ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ And before Aaron could ask anything further, she ran past him and into the bathroom as fast as her dress would allow.
Diana was on her way to the kitchen to make sure Eloise was ready with the silver trays of canapés when she heard Harvey’s great shout of surprise. ‘Rufus!’ She almost dropped the two bottles of wine she was carrying. She caught herself just in time, dumped them on the sideboard and practically ran to the front door. No – it couldn’t be! Rufus? What the hell was he doing here? She saw him walking towards the house holding a small overnight bag in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Harvey was standing in the doorway, his arms outstretched in welcome. She watched in horror as the brothers embraced. She wanted to turn and flee, but Rufus had already caught sight of her.
‘Diana.’ He turned from Harvey and opened his arms to her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here for his birthday? I had to track you down!’
She struggled to keep her voice even. ‘Rufus,’ she murmured, hating the sweep of familiar desire and anger that his presence always provoked. ‘We didn’t know where you were.’
‘I can’t believe you’re here!’ Harvey’s pleasure was genuine. ‘How bloody fantastic!’
‘Wouldn’t have missed it for anything,’ Rufus said smoothly, releasing her. ‘Didn’t have time to get you a present, I’m afraid, old boy.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Just the fact that you’re here is marvellous. Come in, come in … the boys’ll be thrilled to see you. They’re all here.’
‘Even Josh?’
‘Yes, even Josh, can you believe it? I can’t remember the last time they were all here together. And only one little disagreement so far!’
‘So far,’ Rufus echoed, smiling. ‘There’s always tonight.’
‘God, I hope not.’ Harvey smiled back. ‘Come on, let’s get you a drink. I’ll take your bag upstairs … the small bedroom at the end’s still free, I think.’
The two brothers walked in ahead of her, arms still on each other’s shoulders. Diana followed them into the hallway, her mind racing. She felt physically ill. How was she going to get through an entire evening with Harvey on one side and Rufus on the other? She burst into the kitchen and barked out a string of orders – another place setting at the table; fresh sheets and towels to be taken upstairs t
o the remaining spare bedroom. Damn him, damn him, damn him.
84
To Niela, the whole evening had an air of unreality about it. In the soft, balmy candlelight, they all looked like actors on the set of a spectacularly beautiful film. Rufus’s arrival had set Diana on edge, and no wonder. It was hard to tell whether the incident Josh had witnessed all those years ago had happened only once, or if it was part of a longer-term affair. Whatever it was, or had been, it was clear that Rufus still held some sort of power over her. Niela found herself studying him intently, watching for signs that might give her a clue. There was none; he gave absolutely nothing away. On the other side of the nervous Diana, Harvey was his usual charming self. It was hard not to like Harvey. He was that unusual blend of brilliance and kindness – his humour had none of the calculated edge of Diana’s, nor the sullenness of Josh and Aaron either. Did he know what had taken place between his wife and his brother all those years ago? No. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have sat between the two people who should have been his closest allies and contemplate the fact that he’d been betrayed at least once, if not repeatedly. No one could have that depth of understanding or forgiveness, not even Harvey. As Niela watched them, she was slowly aware of a lump rising in her throat. She was used to the unexpected ways in which the things she had to hide sometimes came to the surface of her thoughts without warning, but this was different. She lifted her glass and tried to swallow the threat of tears. It was thinking about forgiveness that had done it. The idea that Harvey might possibly be the person to whom one could confess something was suddenly overwhelming. It had been so long since she’d had the need to speak … to say out loud what she normally kept hidden and buried … why now, of all times and of all places? But she knew why. She was sitting halfway down the table in the bosom of her adopted family, listening to them talk, swap stories, watching them play to the audience of invited guests … doing just what families everywhere did, every day. The family gatherings in Mogadishu were of a different order – the parents rarely spoke to the children, or vice versa, and there was none of the gentle ribbing in front of guests that everyone seemed to enjoy. There was no alcohol at the table and her mother would never have dared sit in between her father and Uncle Raageh, but the sense of belonging somewhere, to people whose blood and history she shared, had been missing from her life for a long time. She’d shut out so completely the pain and loss she felt when she ran away from them all that she’d thought there was nothing to go back to. Now, sitting there in the midst of this family, sensing the poison that had slowly seeped its way through that very same love, she found herself mourning what she’d lost, and afraid of what they all might one day lose if any of it came to light.
Next to her, Josh was quiet. His position in the family was precarious – she could see that; she could also see that he knew it, and for all his sullen anger, was hurt by it. Whenever a joke or an anecdote was directed at him, she could see in him a spirit of generosity that broke something in him that he knew needed to be broken … but as soon as he began to reach out, he backed off. It moved Niela greatly, and over and over again, it broke her heart.
Maddy had drunk too much; she could feel it in the way her words kept sliding around in her mouth as though she couldn’t quite handle them. She could feel it too in the way her gaze was drawn to Niela and Josh, who were sitting opposite her. She slid a hand underneath the table and placed it provocatively on Rafe’s thigh, but he moved away in irritation. He was in the middle of telling a long, complicated story about an operation and she could sense he was trying to impress Harvey – the last thing he wanted was the distraction of her fingertips caressing him through the wool of his trousers. She moved her hand away, rebuked. She took another sip of wine. Dangerous. Wine made her bold; it loosened her tongue and heightened her emotions. In this state, who knew what might pop into her head and then come straight out of her mouth? She tried to concentrate on Rafe’s story. ‘When we saw the blood, we thought we were bloody done for … it wasn’t quite tight enough … you know how it is, Dad, when you’ve opened up the arterials … you just can’t tell, can you? Luckily for us, Martins had given her a triple dose of nembuthal …’ Stop trying to please your father, Maddy wanted to whisper to him. Stop trying to impress him. Just be yourself. She caught Niela’s eye on hers and quickly looked away. Was her impatience written all over her face? She took another sip, and then another. She was drinking too fast but she couldn’t stop. There was someone else watching her – it was Rufus, Rafe’s uncle. He was staring at her. He was very quick; she could see from the way he was studying her that he’d caught the look in her eyes. He was sitting next to Harvey; there was a disturbing quality of sameness about them both, although Rufus was dark where Harvey was fair. It was like looking into a mirror where the reflection was just slightly out of focus – the features were the same but the cast was different. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. There was something very slightly off-kilter about the whole evening. It was a birthday party, a celebration … and yet it was not. It had a tenor and climate all of its own. She felt a light goosepimpling all over her skin. She shivered, though it wasn’t cold.
Sitting three spaces down from Maddy and sandwiched between Aaron and Harvey, Julia was also struggling to keep hold of her thoughts. She too had had too much to drink, but where Maddy’s attention seemed fixed on the company around her, Julia’s was anywhere but. She kept returning to Africa, not just to her chance meeting with Josh in Johannesburg, but to the trip as a whole and the chain of emotions it had set off in her. She was restless; without ever having put it into words, she’d been steadily growing away from the path that Bernard, Bennison & Partners had set her upon. The fact that Aaron seemed so content to follow it had become a greater source of irritation than she could ever dare admit. The trip had changed her utterly; it had moved her to what could become the centre of her own life – everything that had previously lain dormant had suddenly come to attention. She felt as though she’d stepped into something she’d always intended to do, and the fact that Aaron seemed unable to understand what had happened to her was putting a strain on what had once been easy between them. In a strange and not so pleasant way, Aaron was slowing coming full circle. When she met him at Bernard, Bennison & Partners, he seemed to have abandoned the arrogance that had characterised him at Balliol and allowed her to see something else inside him … that was what she’d fallen in love with. The night after she’d lost her first case, it was the note of uncertainty in his voice that had made her see him differently. She could still remember every detail – the way he’d leaned against the door jamb, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the desire that had swept over her to be held by him … all of that. But as time went on and he grew more confident in the role that everyone else seemed to have mapped out for him, the Aaron she’d fallen in love with slowly began to fade. Now he was returning to who he’d always been all along. Conventional to the core. And in that, they were diametrically opposed. For Julia, especially after what she’d just experienced in Maputo, the law wasn’t simply a means to a particular kind of lifestyle; it was as much a moral as a material means, and to her distress, it was becoming increasingly clear that in this, as in so many other things, she and Aaron were worlds apart. To compare him to Josh was an unfair comparison – chalk and cheese, those two, as her father would have said. In some ways, not dissimilar to Harvey and his brother, Rufus, she suddenly thought. She stole a quick glance down the table. They were talking to one another, their heads bent close. Rufus’s darker head, with its smattering of grey hair, and Harvey’s, so fair that he appeared silver – and next to them, sitting with all the upright tension of someone on a bed of nails, was Diana. Her eyes darted this way and that, never still. She seemed to be measuring the evening according to some criteria other than her own enjoyment. Something else was being said underneath the laugher and the anecdotes and the good wine and food, but Julia was damned if she could work out what.
