Drew whistled admiringly as she came down the stairs. ‘Nice legs!’
‘I thought there’d be some female clothes.’
‘Why did you think that?’
‘I thought Liana lived here.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, she doesn’t.’
‘Has she moved out?’
‘Didn’t move in.’ He smiled. ‘Claire, why are you cross-examining me?’
‘Sorry . . . not my business. I’m too nosy. People are always telling me that.’
They began to talk of other things. Drew poured drinks and they talked some more, easy light-hearted talk, but Claire was acutely conscious of every gesture he made, his every glance in her direction. And it seemed to her that his awareness was as intense as her own.
Oh dear. Just be careful, she told herself. Play it cool.
When he went into the kitchen, she asked to use the telephone. She rang Howard to say that she’d been caught in the flood and was staying with some friends. She didn’t feel she could explain about Drew over the phone. Anyway, maybe there would be nothing to explain.
Drew made dinner for them both – fried pork and mushrooms, mangetout peas and baby corn. He swore noisily about not being able to find any utensils because Min kept everything in bloody weird places, but the result was surprisingly good. Unfortunately nervous tension prevented her from eating much, but she had several glasses of wine.
‘Didn’t you like my cooking?’ he asked afterwards.
‘I loved it, but I wasn’t very hungry for some reason.’
‘Nor me.’ He put his arm around her.
Wondering if she should pull away, Claire closed her eyes for a minute. Then she opened them. ‘Did Liana teach you how to cook island food like that?’
‘God, no, she can’t even cook rice. She’s had maids all her life.’
‘So did you cook for her when Min wasn’t here?’
‘Sometimes. Just like you cook for old Howard, I expect.’
They were silent for a moment. Drew still had his arm lightly round her shoulder. Then he said seriously, ‘I was disappointed you didn’t want to come to Bangkok that time.’
Claire flushed. ‘But I did want to . . .’ She stopped, fearing she had given herself away. Then she plunged on. ‘Actually, actually I phoned to tell you I’d come, but Liana answered the phone. It was very early in the morning. I thought she must have spent the night. So I changed my mind about Bangkok.’
‘I see.’
‘Was she?’
‘Was she what?’
‘Staying the night?’
‘Claire, what is all this? I don’t ask you about your sex life with Howard.’
‘You did once, sort of.’
‘Yeah, so I did. I guess I was jealous.’ He began to stroke her arm gently. She could feel his fingers through the thin cotton shirt.
‘But Liana is just a friend,’ he continued. ‘She was kind to me when I broke up with my wife. Liana is the sort of woman who’s very warm and friendly and if she likes a man she sleeps with him, just in friendship, nothing more. Actually she stopped coming here because she said I wasn’t a very enthusiastic lover after I met you. She said she required a certain minimum amount of attention and I didn’t provide it. She even accused me of fantasizing about you when I was with her.’
‘Was that true?’
‘You mean, did I fantasize? Yes, I did, thought about you the whole bloody time, as a matter of fact.’
Her heart jumped unevenly. ‘Then why didn’t you ring me ever?’ She moved away so she could see his face.
‘Why didn’t you ring me ever? You sent me a pretty negative email. I thought it was a put-down, telling me to back off, so I did. Thought you’d decided to go for good old Howard.’
‘Why d’you always call him that?’
‘Suits him – Hooray Howard. Let’s leave him out of it. Another bloke hanging around doesn’t usually put me off. I guess I’m too cautious these days. And you’re pretty cautious too. Maybe I was afraid. I was afraid I might start to like you too much and you’d say you didn’t want to get in too deep with a guy who spent all his time travelling.’
She put out her hand to touch his, and then thought better of it. ‘I was only cautious because I thought you were too . . . too attractive to be reliable or trustworthy. And I’d made a resolution to be sensible and mature about men. Go for the steady type rather than . . . Well, bitter experience, I suppose.’ She decided not to say too much about newly divorced blokes being the worst of the lot.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, in my idiotic past I always seem to have fallen for womanizing phoneys or men who were in love with someone else. Like my last love in England – he was a divorced man who was still in love with his wife. It was all very painful.’
‘Poor old world-weary Claire. Is that why you left the U.K? I remember you said something about him when we first met.’
‘He was one reason.’
‘And what category of dud bloke did you put me in? Unreliable, untrustworthy, a womanizer, a phoney?’ He smiled. ‘Don’t know why you’re here really.’
She smiled in return. ‘Well, not a phoney, but, there was all that Liana business, and you were pretty damn casual.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And do you mind my asking, Drew, what about your wife?’
His voice became more serious. ‘She thought I was unreliable in some ways too. She wanted me to give away my foreign trips and work in Canberra as an administrator.’
‘She didn’t want to travel?’
‘No, and she didn’t want me to travel either. You see she has her own career in the civil service back home in Oz.’
‘So you went your separate ways?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is she pretty, your wife?’
‘People seem to think so.’
‘What does she look like?’ Claire could see that her line of questioning was making him unhappy, but she couldn’t stop herself.
‘Sort of red-blonde and skinny. But I really don’t want to talk about her.’
He got up and stared out of the window. Behind him the flood water was dark and shiny, all around the house. He turned and smiled. ‘We won’t talk about anybody else, to hell with them all.’
She went towards him and then stopped, constrained by the thought of Howard. ‘I’m not sure I should stay,’ she said.
‘You have to. Look out of the window.’
She took another deep breath. ‘You see, if I stay, I think, well, things may get a bit, well, kind of out of hand or . . .’
He smiled a large and happy smile. ‘You could be right. What a good idea! Of course, being a delicately brought-up Australian, I would never have dreamed of suggesting it myself, but . . .’ He made to take her in his arms, but she pushed him away gently with both her arms against his chest.
‘And if, if we do, I’ll have to give up Howard because I can’t cope with two lovers. It’s a rule I have,’ she whispered, looking at the floor. ‘And he loves me and I shouldn’t be unfaithful.’
He pulled her towards him again. ‘Just ditch him.’
‘I’m not sure I should.’
‘You’re not engaged to him?’
‘No, but, thing is, we’re together and he loves me. I don’t want to behave like a shit.’
‘Better to end things sooner rather than later, before he’s too involved.’
‘He’s too involved already,’ she said, full of guilt. Oh God, why had she made such of a mess of everything?
‘What about me?’
‘I don’t know how I feel about you or how you really feel about me except that . . .’ Except that she longed for him and she knew she could not stall much longer. She said aloud, ‘Except that it’s very late and maybe I should sleep alone.’
‘Maybe, or maybe you should have the guts to do what you want for a change. You’re such a polite English person. Maybe you should break your own bloody rules.’ He took her in his
arms, pulling up the loose shirt so that his hands touched the bare skin of her back. ‘Either way, you have to kiss me goodnight,’ he whispered in her ear. She kissed him on the cheek.
‘Rotten Pommy prude,’ he said.
So she kissed him on the lips. They kissed again and again. No longer trying to hold back, she was aware only of Drew standing so close, his desire, her desire for him. His body, hands, mouth. He pushed her away a little and began to unfasten the buttons of her shirt one by one, kissing the brown and then the white skin.
She didn’t really notice that outside the torrential rain had begun again.
*
Some time later, as they lay peacefully in each other’s arms on the rug by the window, Claire opened her eyes. ‘It’s raining very hard,’ she remarked.
He smiled, tenderly caressing her face. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say, after all that passion?’
‘You know we Brits like to talk about the weather whenever possible. But it is sort of vaguely relevant. D’you see, look, the Land Rover’s wheels are covered in water now.’
He peered out of the window, leaning across her. ‘So they are.’
‘It means I’ll have to stay a day or two.’
‘I can live with that idea,’ he whispered. ‘Come on, let’s go upstairs. It’s more comfortable. I didn’t mean to make love downstairs, but you overwhelmed me.’
She smiled as he pulled her up. ‘You were the overwhelming one,’ she said.
‘How about we try overwhelming each other all over again?’
He took her by the hand. When they reach his bedroom, he picked her up and carried her across to his bed.
‘Wow, caveman, why didn’t you carry me all the way up the stairs?’
He lay down beside her. ‘Thought you’d be too heavy and I was right,’ he murmured.
She laughed. ‘Very rude.’
Just then the telephone rang, loud in the silent house. ‘Answer it,’ she said.
‘No.’
‘You must.’
He let go of her and picked up the telephone. ‘Hello . . . Oh, it’s you . . . I see . . . All right . . . OK.’ It was not a long conversation.
‘Who was it?’ she asked.
His voice was different. ‘Someone from Australia. About a meeting.’
‘Funny time to ring.’
‘Yeah,’ he said absently.
Suddenly Claire realized she how little she knew about him. All her doubts returned. Surely a business colleague wouldn’t ring in the middle of the night. It must have been another woman and Drew was lying to her. All her instincts told her so. Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Actually, I’m going to my own bed now, alone if you don’t mind. Goodnight, thanks for dinner and . . . everything. I hope you understand, but maybe it would be better for us if, if we were just friends. I don’t think it will really ever work out otherwise, you and me.’
As she walked towards the door, she did not dare turn to see the expression on his face. ‘Come back. I want to tell you something important.’
She turned. ‘What?’
‘Can’t tell you unless you come here.’
‘Oh, all right.’ She went to sit on the edge of the bed.
He smiled. ‘Lie down. You’ll be more comfortable.’
‘I can hear perfectly well sitting up.’
He moved to sit behind her and ran his fingers down her backbone. ‘I wanted to tell you that you look terrific from the rear,’ he whispered. ‘That bottom of yours. I thought you were skinny, but you’re really quite plump when you’re naked and beautiful.’
‘Plump! Where am I plump?’ She was trying not to laugh.
‘Here . . . and here.’
‘But . . .’
‘And here.’
*
Claire was stranded at Drew’s house for another day and another night. They made love again and again, with a desperate yet tender passion. Occasionally they talked and sometimes they ate, but mostly they stayed in bed. There was no time for anything else. In a way that she had not done before in her over-anxious life, Claire abandoned herself to love and lust, and Drew. It’s never been like this, she thought, not straight away, not ever really. Not such wild extraordinary shattering joy, hour after hour.
‘Why, oh why is it so good?’ she asked in a mindless daze of gratification.
He smiled down at her. ‘Because you’re generous, lusty and bloody wonderful.’
‘And because you’re a fantastically sexy skilful lover. You turn me on like crazy, you know that.’
He grinned. ‘I know, I know,’ he said, stroking her cheekbone. ‘But the turn-on is mutual, oh boy, it’s mutual.’
Because we’re in love, she wanted to add, but didn’t. It was too soon.
Later, over breakfast, he said, ‘You asked me about my marriage, but you never talk about yours, all those years ago.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, I suppose I’d wrapped it up carefully in tissue paper and put it away. Sometimes you don’t want to share private personal memories. You can’t really explain all the nuances of a marriage to somebody else.’ She smiled. ‘Or perhaps I didn’t really want to re-examine it in case it didn’t turn out to be as blissful as I remembered.’
‘So tell me now. Might be good to air it.’
Claire was silent for a moment before she began. ‘Well, you know, a few years after you’ve been widowed, you tend to look at the past through rose-tinted glasses, pretending to yourself that your marriage was perfect. Which, of course, it wasn’t because it didn’t have time to be. We were too young. It was more like a lovely, sexy fling with lots of quarrels.’
‘What was he like?’
‘Oh, handsome, funny, a very strong character. That’s why we rowed, I guess, fighting for supremacy.’ She smiled and took another sip of coffee.
‘But you were happy?’
‘Yes, yes, I was. Most of the time. But it, the marriage, made me pretty cautious about men.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know . . . Maybe because I realized they’re pretty damn difficult to live with, even if you are madly in love.’
He grinned. ‘Can’t live without ’em though.’
‘That’s just where you’re wrong. I learnt, the hard way, that you can. You can manage without them very well. I had to at first anyway. People, anyone, not just young blokes treated me strangely.’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘Well, they were embarrassed by the tragedy. They would walk on the other side of the road to avoid me. It’s a weird state, widowhood, weird word, especially if you’re young. People are afraid to say the wrong thing. Sometimes I’d take my ring off and pretend to be a divorcee or just a single woman. Seemed easier than going through the whole rigmarole of explaining and upsetting people.’
He looked surprised. ‘You were afraid of upsetting other people?’
‘Odd, isn’t it? When people hear the word widow they take fright and think of weeping black-clad old crones, and you don’t fit the picture so they feel awkward.’
‘But you don’t wear your wedding ring any more.’
She sighed. ‘No, gave it up eventually, though I felt disloyal doing so.’
‘But after a while?’
‘Yes, after a while I began to see another bloke. Quite the wrong type for me, quiet and unassertive, but opposite to my husband. When he didn’t work out, I went for a totally different sort – a brash City type. Boom and bust, that was me. That’s why I now think it’s probably best to remain serenely single.’
‘Not you, Claire. You’re not the single woman type.’
‘Oh, yes, I am. I’m pretty self-sufficient now.’
‘But you may want to step off the shelf one day.’
‘Rude bastard. I’m not on any shelf – well, if I am I can probably dust myself down and step off it any time I want.’
‘With good old Howard?’
‘Will you please belt up abou
t good old Howard?’
‘OK, OK, how about we stop talking altogether. Hm, now what else could we do? Come to think of it I rather like your boom and your bust.’
At the time Claire didn’t really notice the change of subject.
Eventually she made another telephone call to Howard to say she was safe ‘with friends’. She hated the deceit, but she preferred to wait until she could tell him face to face that she was in love with another man. Oh shit, poor Howard.
*
The rains stopped and the flood waters began to retreat. The maid returned, giggling sweetly behind her hand when she saw that Claire was still there and that the spare bed had not been slept in.
‘I’ll take you home now,’ said Drew. ‘We should be able to make it.’
Claire felt that it should have been she who suggested leaving. She would like to have been invited to stay longer, but Drew’s mood had changed. He seemed quiet and preoccupied that morning.
The Land Rover showed no signs of being ‘crook’. As they drove slowly along, she stared out of the window at the muddy streets. Cheerful as ever, the islanders were trying vainly to mop up the remaining pools, but in parts the water was still knee deep. When they reached Lotus Court, Drew turned off the engine.
He turned to her. ‘Claire, I have to tell you. I’m going back to Australia.’ His face was serious, his voice different, formal.
‘Oh, when?’
‘Next month. As soon as I’ve sorted out my office and things here.’
‘When will you be back?’
‘I don’t know. Might be a long time.’
A feeling of dread settled in the pit of Claire’s stomach. ‘How long?’
‘Several months, maybe longer.’ There was no suggestion in his bleak tone that he was about to invite her to go with him.
She tried to keep her voice even. ‘Have you been posted home then? I thought your contract was for another year.’
‘I have asked for a few months’ leave of absence, to sort out a family problem. My wife wants to talk.’
Tropical Connections Page 16
