There was a closet behind the bathroom, where all the junk got pushed. Amy leaned inside, shoved away parcels and boxes and dragged out a trunk. It hadn’t been opened for over two years.
For a moment she looked at the trunk and resisted the temptation to push it back in the closet. Then she blew away the dust and opened it. Inside was a flat cardboard box. She took it out, slammed the lid of the trunk shut and thrust it away. Then she wondered why she was making such a fuss.
Inside the box was a dress she had bought to wear to go out with her husband—in fact, to this very Marquis’s Ball. He had always enjoyed social functions, said he enjoyed showing off his wife.
Sometimes she had felt like a trophy. And he had always drunk too much. Shortly after buying this dress their relationship had really fallen apart. And she had never worn the dress.
She thought of what Adam had said when he had invited her. ‘Ghosts. Get rid of them!’ Well, she would.
She tore at the sealing on the side of the box, pulled it open and pushed aside the layers of tissue paper. Then she lifted out the dress. It was made of a rich ivory silk. She ran her hand over the material—it felt so good. She was still in the upstairs hall and on impulse she stepped out of her jeans and pulled off her shirt. Then she slipped the dress over her head and went to look at herself in the bedroom mirror.
Hmm. Her hair was a mess. The sturdy bra she was wearing would have to go, but the dress itself...it made her look like a princess.
Carefully she took it off and laid it on the bed. This dress was too good to be ignored as a miserable memory of a husband who had abused her. She would wear it. She would lay ghosts, look forward in life.
By Saturday she was very excited. Johanne offered to stay to help her dress, but Amy didn’t want her to know just how excited she was. She didn’t want Johanne thinking too closely about her father and her going out together. So Johanne stayed happily with Sylvia.
Amy had a luxurious afternoon and evening. After her visit to the hairdresser’s there was a long soak in a bath scented with oils. Then she sat in her dressing gown, seeing to her nails. Then a body lotion, the lacy underwear again, the dress and then make-up. It had been a long time since she had spent so much time just pampering herself.
Finally she was finished, and went to survey herself in the long bedroom mirror. You look good, she told herself with pride.
She went downstairs and sat upright on her couch, waiting for Adam. Her heart was beating more strongly than usual. Tonight was going to be a night out of the normal run of her life but it would commit her to nothing.
The doorbell rang. When she let him in, he kissed her gently on the lips. He looked good too. She had always thought that there were few things more flattering than evening dress for men. His was in a lightweight black silk with a red rose buttonhole.
‘You look sensational,’ he said, as he surveyed the ivory dress. ‘Really sensational. You don’t need this and I had to guess the colour anyway. But I wanted to buy you something.’
He presented her with a flower in a transparent box. It was an orchid, and when he pinned it to her shoulder she thought she looked better than ever. They looked at each other, thoughts unspoken.
Beforehand they had agreed to leave both cars behind, to travel there and back by taxi. ‘I don’t want to drink a vast amount,’ he had told her. ‘I just don’t want to be counting every half glassful.’
‘I think that’s very sensible.’
Then the doorbell rang again. It was the taxi. He kissed her again gently on the lips and escorted her out.
The ball was held in the ballroom of the Marquis’s ancestral home. The Marquis was there himself, greeting his guests, obviously pleased to see them. He was beaming, bald, the famous white moustache spreading over his face.
They were directed straight to the surgery table, met their friends there. She was going to enjoy the evening. Of course, she was one of a party of friends, and in no way did Adam indicate that she was more to him than just a friend and colleague. She danced with other men in the party, he danced with other women.
But he danced with her most, and he was the best dancer. He made her feel special.
And it was a special occasion. The tables were covered with white linen, there were complimentary bottles of champagne on hand, and waiters brought round little trays of delightful little titbits. It all made her so happy.
And, yes, Adam was undoubtedly the best dancer. She closed her eyes as they swayed around under the sparkling crystal chandeliers. ‘What are you thinking?’ he asked. ‘I can always tell when you’re thinking. And now you’re frowning. Not a good evening to frown.’
‘Just one thing. I’ll say it once and then the subject is closed. I told you I was here four years ago with my ex-husband? I can remember it. Well, I’m much happier here with you.’
‘That is good. And to copy you, I’m happier here with you than I have been for some time. I think we’ve both decided to live for the moment. This is a magic night. It even looks fairy tale. But at midnight you won’t run off, leaving a glass slipper?’
‘Not a chance. I’m staying here with Prince Charming. But I’ll be back with the cinders and the nurse’s blue uniform on Monday morning.’
His arm tightened around her and they danced on with no further words.
In time the ball drew to an end. For every lady there was a present, a little box wrapped in silver paper. Like all the others, Amy unwrapped hers at once. Inside the box was a tiny porcelain dragon. Amy remembered the dragon on the Marquis’s coat of arms.
Then it was the end of the ball. The Marquis made a short speech, thanking everyone for coming and saying how much they had made for charity. ‘The dragon is a symbol of hope. And I’d like to remind you of my family motto and recommend it to you as a way to live. “Live for Today, Hope for Tomorrow”.’
‘I’ll keep my little dragon on my dressing table,’ Amy told Adam. ‘It’ll remind me of you—and of this night.’
‘The night isn’t finished yet,’ he told her, and she wasn’t quite sure why she shivered.
Their taxi arrived, he held her hand as they were driven home. Then, in a carefully neutral voice, he said, ‘I shouldn’t drive. The taxi is taking you home, I’ll get it to drop me off afterwards.’
She said nothing for a while then said, ‘I was rather hoping you’d come in for coffee. If you’d like to, that is.’
‘I’d like to. Are you sure?’
‘Very sure,’ she said. There was firmness in her voice, she was very sure. In the hand that he didn’t hold was clutched the little dragon. She remembered the Marquis’s family motto. She would live for today, hope for tomorrow.
Her little house was warm as they walked in. She had left the two corner lights on, and it looked cosy and comfortable. ‘Coffee won’t be a moment,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you take off your jacket and undo your tie? Be comfortable.’
She placed her dragon on the mantelpiece. ‘He’ll look after me,’ she said.
In the kitchen she fumbled with kettle and percolator, not really knowing what she was doing. Eventually she arranged a tray as she had before, with coffee, biscuits, brandy and glasses. She took the tray through and saw that he had done as she had suggested and taken off his jacket and tie. She could see his broad shoulders, the strong column of his neck. He looked at her, his eyes unreadable.
She said, ‘I can’t sit on the couch in this dress, it’s only suitable for upright chairs. I’m going to put on my robe.’ She frowned. ‘I’ve been groping in the kitchen, I think the zip is stuck at the back. Can you free it?’
She turned her back to him. His fingers reached down inside the neck of the dress, then there was the long buzz as the zip was eased down. He ran his finger from the nape of her neck to the strap of her bra. ‘All done,’ he whispered. She crossed her arms to hold the dress onto her front and ran upstairs.
In her bedroom she kicked off her shoes, then carefully took off the dress and hung it up
. For a moment she was irresolute—but this was her home, she could do as she wished. She took off her tights. By accident she caught a glance of herself in her wispy white underwear, concealing so little. Her cheeks flushed. Then she grabbed her long blue robe from behind the door, belting it tightly. She pushed her feet into her slippers.
She turned off the main light, clicked on the much loved Tiffany lamp on her dressing table. It made her bedroom a place of mystery, of shaded colour, and she loved it. Then she went downstairs.
She sat by him on the couch, poured the brandy and the coffee. Desperately, she tried to start a light conversation. ‘A lovely ball, wasn’t it?’ she asked.
‘You said the right word before. It was magic. It was a fairy tale, and Cinderella invited me back. But there are no cinders here.’
His arm was around her. Deliberately he bent to kiss her. ‘The Marquis told us,’ he said, ‘to live for today. So that’s what we will do.’
His kiss seemed to last for ever. And when at last their lips parted she saw the glitter in his eyes and the warmth came to her cheeks. She knew so well what he was feeling, she was feeling it herself. Her voice faltered as she said, ‘Drink your coffee and brandy. I want mine.’
They both drank, said nothing. There was a ting as they replaced their cups. Then he stood, took her two hands in his and lifted her to her feet. She felt that all decisions had been made and she was happy with them. Live for today.
She shuddered as he ran his hands up the sleeves of her robe. His fingers met behind her neck, gently eased her towards him. There was the quickest, lightest of kisses then he moved back. His hands trailed down the front of her robe, came to rest on the tied belt. His expression was absorbed, intense, as if he could think of nothing else.
He undid the knot she had tied so tightly, opened her robe and eased it off her shoulders so it fell round her ankles. She breathed in, suddenly, sharply. Warmth spread through her body. It was almost impossible not to clasp her hands in front of her in the universal gesture of modesty. She had seen herself in the mirror, knew that her underwear didn’t hide but accentuated her body. The scalloped edge of her lace half-bra emphasised the swell of her breasts. The high-cut briefs suggested what was underneath.
Now there was no mistaking the passion in his eyes. She knew what he wanted, could feel the desperation smouldering in him. And she needed it herself. He took her in his arms, his mouth came down on hers in a kiss that was almost brutal in its desire.
She reacted at once, her mouth opening to his onslaught, taking him as he wished to take her. All of her body was responding to him. She could feel her nipples hardening, thrusting towards him. There was a warmth, almost a dampness between her legs. She knew she wanted, she needed him.
The tightness of his grip slackened. Instead of pulling her to him, his hands stroked her back, sending ripples of delight through her body. ‘This isn’t fair,’ she managed to gasp. ‘First, you’re still dressed. And there’s no hurry.’
She leaned back, unbuttoned his shirt. Then she pulled it away from his chest. Her head stooped so she could kiss him there. Her tongue touched his nipples and she could tell from his groan just what delight it gave him.
Now she was determined but at the edge of her mind she knew there was still something she had to say. ‘We are living for now,’ she told him fiercely. ‘This is another holiday. There is no commitment, no promise. This is only now.’
‘I know what I want now,’ he whispered back. ‘I want you.’
She took one of his hands in hers and led him upstairs. They went to her bedroom, stood facing each other. He removed her bra then and, as she had done to him, bent to kiss her breasts, her nipples almost painful in their engorged intensity. She felt herself whimpering with delight and expectation.
Now his hands were on her hips, his fingertips under the elastic, sliding the flimsy fabric downwards. Then he brushed the springiness of the curls there, making her cry aloud with delight.
And he held her. For a minute or an hour, she did not know.
He threw back the duvet, gently laid her there. She saw him looking down at her naked body, the coloured glass of her Tiffany lamp making her glow deep blue, rich green—odd but somehow exciting.
He stepped back, there was the rustle of his clothes. The bed dipped as he leaned beside her. ‘We have all the time in the world,’ he said. ‘We must enjoy each other.’
‘We have tonight and that is all that I care about,’ she said. ‘Now you lie there, lie on your back. You’ve kissed me so much that now I want to kiss you.’
He reached out for her. Firmly she put his hands behind his head. ‘Lie there, I said. I know what I want from us, see if you do too. Now...’ Her head bent over him and again there was that gasp of pleasure.
Once, twice he tried to move his hands and she put them back behind his head. Then, moments, minutes later she heard him pant, ‘I think... now... before it is too late...’
‘Yes, now,’ she said, and pulled him over onto her. ‘Yes, now, Adam... now...’ She could hear her own voice rising, hear the half scream of passion, hear his growl of delight. ‘Now, Adam... now. Oh, please... Now!’
Then all was done. They lay there panting side by side, feeling their bodies covered with the warmth of ecstasy, feeling their heartbeats slowly returning to normal.
‘That was—’ he started, but she leaned over to kiss him silent.
‘That was so much that talking about it will do no good,’ she said. ‘So now we can sleep.’ And they slept.
Chapter Eight
Amy woke first. It was dark and still early. For a moment she lay there, remembering last night and the comfort of lying next to Adam’s body since then. He was breathing heavily, still asleep. Lightly she kissed him on the shoulder then wriggled out of bed.
She made them both mugs of tea then gently shook him awake. There was light in the sky, they had things to do. ‘Soon you must go,’ she said.
He sat up, took the tea then kissed her on the cheek. ‘Last night was—’ he started, but she interrupted.
‘Adam, last night was last night. Now it is over. Now I have a daughter, you have a daughter and they’re probably both coming over here soon. We both have responsibilities, work to do.’
‘But things are different now,’ he said. ‘We have things to decide.’
She didn’t expect it; it came out of the blue.
But calmly he said, ‘Amy, I love you.’
There was silence in the room. She felt lost, dismayed, not sure what to think. How could she cope with this? It had been the last thing she had anticipated. She said, ‘Suddenly things in my life are changing. That was a declaration. It needs, deserves an answer. And I’m not sure what to say.’
He smiled, kissed her gently. ‘It’s quite easy, quite simple,’ he said. ‘Three little words, or perhaps four. I love you too. There’s no need to plan the future, to work out what might happen. Just say them then take as long as you like to decide on the future. Only three words. I love you. And, Amy, when I said them, I never meant anything more in my life.’
She looked around in bewilderment. This was her bedroom, always a haven, a place of safety and comfort. And now she was lost in it. She knew this was not a good time to make decisions, when she was naked, his warm body next to hers, her body aching for him again. What did she want? At the moment she wanted him. She desperately wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But caution told her—
The telephone by the side of her bed rang.
‘Leave it,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘Only important people know this number,’ she said, and lifted the receiver.
‘Hi, Johanne.’ She saw Adam’s eyes roll. ‘Yes, wonderful time, thank you... Yes I think your dad enjoyed it, too...’ She pushed away the hand that was stroking her breast. ‘That’s really nice of them, and he’ll drop you off here... Yes, still in bed but I’ll be up by the time you get here. Bye, love.’
She turned to Adam
and said, ‘Noel phoned early, he wants to take Ma out. He’s volunteering to drive Johanne and Elizabeth back here first. They’ll be arriving in about half an hour.’
He smiled painfully. ‘And you want me to go? I suppose I ought to, but do I get an answer first?’
‘No way can I give you any kind of an answer, think of anything to say when we’re both liable to be caught by your daughter in our underwear.’ Quickly, she kissed him. ‘Adam, having them come here isn’t what I want. But get dressed and go.’
He sat there a moment, then nodded judiciously. ‘Perhaps you’re right. But I want an answer some time.’
He dressed quickly. She, still in her robe, cleared up from the night before. Then he was at the front door, his shirt creased, his tie not on. And he still looked gorgeous. ‘Amy, I’ll say it again. I love you.’ A quick last kiss and he was gone.
She peered at him through the closed curtains, saw his car draw away. Then she sighed. She had thinking to do. But before she could start, Johanne and Elizabeth arrived.
There were always things to do on a Sunday, it was a busy day. But in the afternoon Johanne took Elizabeth for a walk in the park and she phoned Adam. ‘I just want to thank you for a lovely evening...’
‘And a wonderful night,’ he added. ‘How are you feeling?’
She was honest. ‘Very mixed up,’ she said. ‘I’m feeling all sorts of emotions, and I’m trying to unravel them. Last night made me feel happier than I can remember...but there’s more to life than that. And this morning, what you said, it shocked me. But I don’t know why it did.’
‘I know. Think about me, sweetheart, I think about you.’
‘Give me time. I need a bit more time. But not a lot.’ Then she rang off.
She had thought about him non-stop for the rest of the weekend. On Monday morning she had slipped into his office before the patients had been due, had walked to where he had been sitting behind his desk and kissed him.
‘I just can’t say it yet,’ she told him. ‘I know that it’s true that I... that I... but, Adam, I just can’t say it yet. And I want to, I need to. Can you give me a couple more days? Do you think I’m being silly?’
A Doctor to Come Home to Page 13
