Coconuts and Wonderbras

by Lynda Renham

  ‘Have you used your phone to speak to Toby?’ he asks, barely looking at me and stirring the onions more than is necessary. I shake my head. I haven’t turned my phone on and presumably neither has Alex, so how does he know Toby is asking for him to be court-martialled?

  God, I can barely see. My eye is stinging so much. I fumble for a tissue and he turns to see why I have not answered and shakes his head despairingly at me.

  ‘You haven’t gone and chillied your eyes have you?’

  ‘Well, I certainly didn’t poke it,’ I say miserably.

  Trust me to use a word like poke after we had just been discussing his supposed sexually interfering of me.

  ‘Come here,’ he smiles, guiding me to the sink.

  ‘If our phones are off, how do you know this about Toby?’

  ‘I know everything,’ he mumbles while looking at my eye.

  He runs a cloth under the cold water tap and then lifting my head with one hand he uses the other to lay the cloth gently on my eye. Oh, bliss. I try not to swoon too heavily into his arms.

  ‘How does that feel?’ he asks. I find myself winking at him.

  ‘Say no more,’ he laughs.

  I really daren’t say anything more, unless I want to make a fool of myself. He turns to the pan that is sizzling and holds up the chicken.

  ‘Shall I stick this in?’

  Good Lord, why is it that everything he says seems to refer to something else and why do I find my eyes, or at least my good eye, wandering down to his crotch? It is all I can do to pull it back up. I force myself to nod and dab at my eye. I take the wooden spoon from him and he moves to the side so I can reach the pan. I turn and collide with him. Why is he standing so close? He is looking beyond me and out of the window. I see his shoulders tense. What now? What have I said for goodness sake? He is so close that his thigh is touching mine. My breath catches in my throat.

  ‘We have visitors,’ he says quietly.

  My good eye darts around, while the other winks madly at him. Is this a mating call I have never heard of? Well it’s better than Hey babe, I wanna give ya 12 inches, I suppose.

  ‘I’m going to lean forward and kiss you, so for God’s sake don’t pull away and slap me. I promise I am not making any attempt to sexually interfere with you.’

  I try not to look too disappointed.

  ‘I want to get a clearer idea of their positions and I don’t want them to know I have spotted them,’ he whispers, leaning closer.

  Well, I’ve been strung some lines, but this one takes the biscuit. He leans forward slowly, his eyes so clearly focused on the window that I feel I should aim my lips for his. After all, I don’t want him to miss now do I? All’s fair in love and war so they say. I needn’t have panicked, however, as his lips land expertly on mine. For a brief second my arms stay loosely at my sides but as the kiss deepens the overwhelming desire to bring one arm around his back and the other his neck is too much for me to resist. His lips are so warm and insistent. As I do so, his hand cups the back of my head and brings me nearer while the other arm is clasped around my waist. I feel my lower back being pushed gently against the cooker and have to hold onto him as I feel my legs go weak. His thigh feels hot against mine. If this is acting, what must the real thing be like? The kiss ends as quickly as it began and my lips feel bruised and numb. His head is slightly above mine and he looks into my eyes.

  ‘I’ve got a visual. I need to get the alarm that is behind you so I can alert Lucky. Don’t give anything away. I don’t want them to know we’ve seen them.’

  Good heavens, he was serious about the whole ‘intel’ thing. He wasn’t giving me a line after all. He pulls me towards him again and covers my neck in gentle kisses and I feel myself shiver. This isn’t real, I tell myself. You are like that hari currie woman, or whatever her name was. Mata Hari, that’s it. But she looked like Marlene Dietrich, where I look more like Marlene Boyce out of Only Fools and Horses. Oh my goodness. I can barely think straight with his lips all over my neck and at one point, much to my shame, I feel sure I moan. His hand fumbles behind me as he tries to find the small square box. I reach behind and feel under the kitchen counter until my hand curls around the alarm.

  ‘Quickly, Libby, before they realise I’ve got them in view.’

  I pull it out of its casing and expertly slide it into his hand which strokes mine more seductively than it ought to. I can feel his heart beating against my chest and his breathing seems to have accelerated. He’s a good actor I think, convinced he couldn’t possibly have enjoyed kissing me. He fiddles with the alarm while keeping it hidden between our thighs and I feel his hand brush my leg several times. Apart from the simmering of the pot on the stove there is silence and the only sound is our breathing. Then I hear Lucky’s voice coming through.

  ‘I’ll take him from the side,’ Alex whispers into the box while looking into my eyes. I can’t help noticing his lips are pink and shiver when I think he may be aroused.

  ‘Do you need my bra?’ I say through trembling lips. Well, there’s no harm in asking is there?

  His eyes seem to dart to my breasts and then up again.

  ‘It can be quickly removed if I do,’ he replies, and yes, there is a definite huskiness to his voice.

  His eyes dart to the window again, and a few seconds later he gently pushes me to one side and runs through the main door. There is the sound of breaking glass and running footsteps. I grab the stove for support and realise I am trembling. I struggle to recover and sneak a look out of the window where Alex and Mr Navy are wrestling with someone while Lucky is waving a torch around. It is difficult for me to see what is going on but it looks as though Alex gets into animated discussion with the man before letting him go. I stare flabbergasted. Why would he do that? I pull a chair out and lower my trembling body into it. I feel quite emotionally battered. If just kissing Alex Bryant does this to me, what on earth would I be like if I had sex with him? I’d need a week off work. The three of them come roaring into the kitchen and Lucky sniffs hungrily at the pot on the stove. Alex smiles shyly at me but I find I can barely meet his eyes.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask while looking at Mr Navy.

  ‘See you in a bit guys,’ says Alex.

  He waits for them to leave and then says,

  ‘You’re going to have to trust me. I’ll tell you everything on a need-to-know basis.’

  The soft voice has gone and the ‘I know what’s good for you’ voice is back. Why does everyone treat me like an idiot? First Toby treating me like a fool in front of Serena and now Alex is talking to me like I’m aged seven.

  ‘I’m past trusting men,’ I scoff and for a second I am amazed it is me that has spoken.

  A shadow passes across his face and his eyes narrow and then very quickly he is back to normal, attempting to smile.

  ‘I’m not Toby you know. Talking of which, you might like to know he is here in Cambodia.’

  Good grief. I am seriously amazed. In the space of one hour I have not only discovered that I actually can arouse the one and only Alex Bryant, the superhero of our times, but that my boyfriend actually does love me. Why else would he be here? The question is do I still love Toby? It is hard to reconcile the Alex Bryant of now to the one who had, only moments ago, kissed me at the kitchen window. He is behaving in a dismissive manner. Any suggestion of romance is pushed from my mind and I remind myself that men like Alex are used to improvising in moments of danger. He has probably kissed many a woman while trying to ascertain the movements of the enemy. He offers to prepare the starter while I change for dinner. I waltz to my room, my mind whirring. Why is Toby here? Surely this must mean he really does care for me. All I can think about is Alex’s kiss. I can no longer deny that I find Alex Bryant very attractive and not only attractive but I also have feelings for him. It is seriously starting to bother me that he may well be in danger. I should try and talk him into flying home with me. Even as I think this I know it will be pointless to attempt as he is very
much his own man and nothing I say will change any decisions he has made. I have to admit that his single-mindedness is quite exciting. If only I were more appealing in a ‘Penelope’ way. Surely, he could not possibly kiss like that without some feeling, could he? God I am missing old Orlando. I take my time changing, sensing he wanted to be alone for a while. I have no make-up so pinch my cheeks to redden them and spend a long time on my hair, pulling it up and releasing it until I get so hot that the only way is up. I finally emerge from my room wearing a flowery dress and a lace shawl that Issy had bought me last Christmas. It still smells slightly of Rive Gauche perfume and reminds me of home. The marbled floor is cool under my feet and feels lovely.

  He looks up from preparing the table. His eyes linger on me and I feel myself blush. His eyes tell me I had not imagined his feelings for me when he kissed me. I am sure of it, and my heart does a little flutter. The room is wonderfully inviting. The table has been expertly laid for dinner and Alex had used all the best cutlery and wine glasses. Lucky has put decorations around the room. I feel quite moved to know they have done it so I wouldn’t feel I was missing Christmas.

  ‘I have something for you. I meant to give it to you earlier, but, well, things have been a bit busy haven’t they?’

  Good Lord, a bit busy is when you are slightly overwhelmed at the office isn’t it? Not when you are kidnapped and rushed to a safe house. I rather think that is a bit more than busy, more like harassed I would say. He hands me a box and I look suspiciously at it.

  ‘Don’t tell me it’s a brooch with a hidden camera, or a James Bond style homing device. You really shouldn’t have,’ I say, attempting to cover my embarrassment.

  ‘I’m very aware that you gave up a family Christmas to come here. I hope they’re to your taste.’

  He must have showered while I was changing for he smells of soap. His hair is slightly damp and tousled. He has bought me a Christmas present and I have bought him sod all. Jamie might have hinted, he must have known, surely. I take the box hesitantly.

  ‘I didn’t buy you anything. In fact, I haven’t bought anybody presents.’

  ‘I didn’t expect anything. Aren’t you going to open that?’ He nods at the box, obviously keen to for me to look inside.

  I lift the lid to find two beautiful pearl stud earrings surrounded by diamonds. Not real diamonds of course, at least they surely can’t be. I am about to speak when there is a light tap at the door and Mr Navy walks in. I’m beginning to wish I had a stun gun so I could quickly put Mr Navy out of action for a few minutes. Honestly, talk about bad timing. I mouth a ‘thank you’ and he nods, seemingly pleased. I toss my hair in the manner of Mata Hari and say I am just going to put them on and rush to my room to calm my beating heat and throw cold water on my loins. Honestly, this is getting out of my control. I shall be molesting him over the dinner table at this rate. I survey myself wearing the earrings in the small cracked mirror that hangs on my wall. After studying myself for several minutes, I return to the living area where Lucky is opening all the doors to let in the cool evening air. Bourey arrives with Samnang and they bow to us before handing me several dead chickens which Alex takes with a grateful bow.

  I find it difficult to take my eyes off him throughout dinner. He has changed into a white shirt which contrasts beautifully with his tanned skin. His hair is still slightly messy from his earlier shower and his face seems to glow. I have to force my eyes from his lips otherwise I find myself visualising the kiss over and over again until I feel faint. I force my mind back to the conversation in hand.

  ‘Our main task is to promote the book. If that includes making it known internationally that the government here is corrupt so be it. Our position has been compromised but we can still do it with your help,’ Alex says.

  I look to the man on my left and shiver slightly. I cannot believe we have invited the head of The People’s Army to our safe house. Samnang smiles at me.

  ‘The food is very good, Lady Libby thank you.’

  Mother would be very proud if she heard me being called ‘Lady’ and even more impressed if I showed her the earrings and told her about the kiss. I am beginning to think Issy was right. I need a good shag and preferably one from Alex Bryant. I quickly fan myself and begin to think I may well need smelling salts if I go on like this. On seeing me Alex turns up the fan and smiles, which of course notches up my internal heat even more. I am in danger of spontaneously self-combusting if this continues. I swallow the last of my starter and clear the table.

  ‘Thank you, but Alex prepared this. I can only take responsibility for the main course and dessert.’

  It is one of the few times I have said his name and it tastes seductive on my lips. It also seems to have an effect on him. Okay, I kid myself. He licks his lips but that’s probably because they are dry.

  ‘It is very good Alex, may I ask what we are eating?’ asks Samnang, who sounds very gentle but I feel sure he would knife his enemy quicker than I could say Jack Bauer.

  ‘It’s cow’s stomach,’ responds Alex and I feel my own stomach somersault. Oh heavens, I must not throw up over the dinner table. It would most certainly be very unromantic and very unsexy. Jesus, what is he doing feeding us the stomach of a cow? Christ almighty, wasn’t there enough chicken out the back?

  ‘You have our help and our support Alex, but your protection is what I fear. Colonel Pong, as you know, does not wish you here and will continue to do his best to prevent any television appearances by you. My fear is that he will soil your name and I can do nothing to stop that.’

  I place the bean chilli onto the table along with the curried potatoes and Alex leans across me to dish it up onto the plates. My breath catches in my throat and I cough slightly. I don’t recall Toby ever having this effect on me, but then, it is impossible to compare Toby with Alex. The only similarity they share is that they both like my cakes.

  ‘I need you to leak Libby’s article onto the Internet. I can’t risk it being traced back to us just yet.’

  I hear myself gasp.

  ‘You can’t possibly do that. It needs at least two more drafts and editing and…’ I begin protesting.

  ‘It’s perfect. I read it while you were in the shower,’ says Alex firmly.

  Oh Lord, what if Toby sees it. My life won’t be worth living.

  ‘We need to start blitzing the Internet,’ says Alex handing the article to Samnang.

  ‘Consider it done,’ smiles Samnang.

  ‘We are vigilant now,’ says Mr Navy.

  ‘I think you mean vigilante,’ I correct.

  ‘No, he means we must be vigilant. If Pong should discover that we are not prisoners of Mr Navy and Lucky, you can be sure he won’t sit on that information for long. We all, and that includes you Libby, need to be very vigilant. Whatever he tries we need to be ready for him. Always remember, intelligence is the most powerful weapon.’

  Any plans I had on eating dessert are well and truly quashed after hearing that little speech.

  ‘Why don’t we just go home?’ I ask, thinking this a very sensible question.

  ‘Because we care about the people here and the country, don’t we?’

  Everyone looks at me earnestly and of course I nod. But, do I care about the people here? Mr Navy pushes another plateful of rice at me with a wide smile while Alex looks keenly at me. I accept it with a grateful nod. I guess the truth is that I do care about the people here and I especially care what Alex thinks of me. I am finally beginning to realise that I may seriously be in danger and that Alex Bryant is my protector. What a lovely thought. Maybe I can tell him I feel nervous at night. Madam Zigana has well and truly surpassed herself. I only wish I could remember if she had said there would be two men in my life. Who would have thought it of me, Libby Holmes? I can’t wait to tell Issy.

  Issy

  The Magnificent Seven we most certainly are not. I vow never to travel with Libby’s parents ever again. Fenella insists on travelling Business Class and by that I mean
she insists we travel Business Class. Jamie refuses very delicately, explaining his lover Philippe comes from a very poor background and would be quite uncomfortable travelling Business Class. Fenella is totally bewildered by this.

  ‘But surely, darling, that is all the more reason he would like to travel comfortably. No one will hold it against him being gay and a Flipono if that’s what you mean. In fact, everyone on board will probably think he is a nurse. After all, most Fliponos are aren’t they? Especially the gay ones.’

  I raise my eyebrows. What the hell is a Flipono when it’s at home? It sounds like something I would wear on my head.

  ‘I think you mean Filipino,’ I say, in an effort to ease the confusion.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know what you call them dear, but I’m happy to pay the upgrade.’

  ‘Well, maybe not Fluff,’ chips in Libby’s dad.

  ‘The sooner they decide the better,’ snaps Toby. ‘I want to make sure my seat is a fair way from where they’re sitting.’

  ‘Why don’t you book yourself on a homosexual-free flight,’ I hiss.

  ‘Can you do that?’ asks Toby.

  ‘Saints alive, I didn’t know that. I say, how the world’s changing, what?’ says Libby’s father.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Edmund, of course they don’t have special flights for homosexuals. It’s like saying we should have separate planes for coloured people, although that would be a jolly good idea. At least you could be sure of not catching anything,’ sighs Fenella.

  I never knew Fenella was such a keen racist.

  ‘It’s kind of illegal these days, to say that kind of thing, Fenella,’ I whisper.

  ‘What kind of thing dear?’

  ‘You know. Things about coloured people and such like. It’s kind of a crime to be racist now.’

  She looks amazed.

  ‘When did that happen?’

  ‘About the same time they took the golliwog off the jam jar,’ I say, edging her towards the check-in desk.