by Gill Mather
They looked at another less riveting file for some minutes and Ali calmed down. Every so often she cast furtive glances at the mantelpiece and Hugh looked consideringly at her. Who’d have thought the determined career girl was frightened of spiders.
Her heart obviously wasn’t in it any longer so Hugh proposed that they call it a day.
“It’s nearly the ten ‘o clock news. D’you mind if we watch the headlines and then I’ll take you home.”
Ali concurred.
He turned on the TV. The tail ends of a raunchy American drama was still showing and Hugh and Ali were treated to the sight of a couple preparing to screw each other over the end of an office desk. The man’s hands were pulling down the woman’s panties and her hands were expertly opening his zip. The closing scene left them going at it hammer and tongs.
Ali tried to appear indifferent. Hugh had a look of feigned derision. They both looked each other up and down at the same time. Eyes meeting. For too long really. Ali couldn’t tear her eyes away this time. Something seemed to slip. As though the physical universe had parted. Her vision went misty. Hugh’s eyes softened almost imperceptibly and his face was flushed. Ali couldn't later say why she hadn't just backed off like she had before with Hugh. Pure lust she supposed. And the head of fantasies she’d built up around him. But on an impulse she put one hand up to his face and kissed him full on the mouth.
Immediately she thought this is a big mistake but he didn’t pull away. And when he took her head in his hands and his tongue started to explore her mouth, she knew he wasn’t going to.
I can't believe this, she thought. Hugh kissing me like this. But it wasn’t like Hugh. He was normally so restrained. He wasn't rough or aggressive. Just very positive and assured. Not at all reticent. He didn’t exactly start tearing her clothes off but he started kissing her neck and ears and shoulders. His hands were soon kneading her breasts and feeling her body. And any undressing move she made, he countered, so that before long they were almost naked, horizontal on the old sofa. Insofar as she had any rational thoughts at all left, Ali was glad that her underwear that day was reasonably new though she couldn't say that she noticed what state his might have been in. She could already feel herself starting to come up to the boil and thought Hugh must be stretched pretty thin too when he whispered into her hair:
“Oh Ali. You’re so beautiful. Do you want to go upstairs?”
Ali stiffened and pulled away slightly. Her eyes widened in the bright light of the hundred watt incandescent bulb.
Hugh was mortified.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have asked! I’ll take you straight home. Come along…”
“No,” yelped Ali, “but…” She glanced over at the mantelpiece and the glass with its contents she had secretly christened Alan, who seemed to have settled down for the night and accepted his lot.
“Oh. Right.” Hugh let out a laugh that didn’t make Ali feel any better.
“No. It’s OK. The other room I’ve sorted out is my bedroom. It’s been completely decorated and totally de-spidered.” Hugh smiled at Ali then he looked away and sighed. “That is if the spontaneity of the moment hasn’t passed completely.”
“Well, no. Actually it hasn’t.” She fought a wave of embarrassment. She hoped she wasn’t being too obvious, too pushy even.
“How…fortunate. So…?”
Ali decided that false modesty would be a mistake.
“Fine then, up we go.” Or up you go. She tried to look sophisticated as she got up but she had a Bridget Jones moment when she nearly fell over the coffee table. Hugh caught her, kissed her neck and held her hand up the stairs, which it had to be said were rather decked out with cobwebs overhead. Ali tried to ignore them.
The bedroom was as Hugh had said. In the light of the bedside table lamp, she took in white painted walls and more waxed pine before falling into the softest bed. No wonder Hugh always looked bright-eyed and bushy tailed in the mornings. He must sleep like a baby.
Neither of them were very frivolous any more. Ali moaned softly as Hugh took the rest of her clothes and his off while kissing her again. All over. He did this thing where he put his mouth and teeth round her ear and his tongue inside her ear while making small sounds that just drove her mad. Before entering her, he looked down at her with those beautiful eyes and they held each other’s eyes as he did it until she sought his mouth with hers. He was very gentle, very thorough. He’d acquired a condom at some point. Ali wasn’t sure she’d have bothered the way she felt but it was nice that he was responsible.
They both took their time. Ali felt she was being transported into paradise. All rational thought was gone. The physical surroundings disappeared and there was nothing but a hot soft cloud around her. The fantasies weren't a patch on the real thing. Afterwards, they lay locked together for what seemed like ages, whispering each other’s names and kissing. It was like a dam bursting and releasing a flood of pent up emotion. Oh and he smelled so nice.
Where did all this come from, thought Ali. Is it really possible to fall in love with someone just like that and without any prior warning?Or has it been lurking somewhere under the surface all the time? Not just stray spikes of lust but actual love?
Eventually Ali felt she couldn't take any more and was going to start to cry or actually tell him she loved him therefore she tore herself away and went into the small en suite off the bedroom. Earlier she’d just glimpsed gleaming white surfaces. Again the whole thing was beautifully done. Instead of a shower cubicle, there was a short ceramic slipper bath. The shower curtain was suspended from a cast iron ring above, itself suspended by chains from a hook in the ceiling. How novel.
Hugh, impeccably mannered it seemed in matters of the bedroom, waited for her to flush the chain before coming in himself. As she washed her hands with the sandalwood soap, he put his arms round her from behind and nibbled her ear.
“Oh Hugh that was just divine. I can't say how much.”
“Yes it was divine. Unutterably exquisite. Just like you are.” And he buried his face in her hair and hugged her tightly. Once again she had to try hard not to cry.
“These adorable shell-like ears’ll never look the same again as they bend over my desk to get a file,” he said. “Do you want to stay the night or shall I take you home?”
Ali hoped he’d ask.
“Stay the night please. I’ll go and `phone home. It’s a nuisance but they’ll worry.”
When she came back he was in bed looking sleepy. And ravishing. As she got in he turned the light off and his arm folded round her and that was all she remembered.
CHAPTER 18
THE BRIGHT MOONLIGHT shone into the small bathroom through the window. It had no curtain or blind. Ali stood regarding herself in the mirror over the sink. Her hair was tangled and she thought her face had a used, fallen look, appropriate to the hour or so’s wonderful steamy unbridled sex the night before. She smiled a satisfied smile at the secret she now held. Hugh was a fucking ace in bed.
Hugh, her boss, that beautiful but controlled, closed person she so looked up to, about whom she’d fantasised for weeks, who was even now naked and sated, breathing softly and regularly in the bedroom next door, arm thrown over her side of the bed. The arm had tried to restrain her in its sleep as she’d slipped out from beneath it and had then pulled her pillow to its body and held that fast instead.
What, she wondered, would happen now. If it came to anything, what would he be like? Would he be kind and nice, loving and supportive? Or would he be casual and neglectful like Rob? Would he be distant and cold? He’d seemed anything but last night. But that was sex. The strong desire to copulate and ultimately procreate could change everything while it lasted. She had no illusions about that.
Suddenly his face swam into view in the mirror. In the blue light of the moon the image seemed ethereal and foggy and for a second she wondered if she was dreaming on her feet. She hadn't heard anything. But she realised it was him behind her, looking at her in t
he mirror in a predatory way, like a big animal. She was transfixed. He put his hands lightly on her hips, his mouth opened and he bit and then sucked at her neck and breathed into her ear. He stopped and looked at her again while his hands moved up and down her body, kneading her breasts, down to her lower abdomen massaging and stroking it, one hand briefly resting between her legs, cupping her mons veneris and squeezing then moving on down her inner thighs with a featherlight touch.
“Ali,” he said, “you drive me fucking crazy.”
“Hugh.” She turned around and they french kissed for at least a thousand years.
“Hugh,” she said again, “Oh Hugh,” as his mouth touched her neck again biting and sucking at it and down under her armpit. His tongue and lips played sweet tunes with and around her nipples. Her fingers dug into his back and shoulders as he moved down her body licking and sucking at her, his tongue extending lightly into her crack before he kissed down her legs, licked and kissed her feet and bit at her knees.
“Hugh for God’s sake fuck me,” she said. He stood and reached into the cupboard next to the sink and handed her something.
“Here. You put it on.”
She tore the small sachet with her teeth and worked the condom onto him. He was the biggest man she’d ever slept with.
“Oh Ali, that’s so nice,” he breathed heavily fondling her hair as she pulled harder to unwind the condom. “You’d better hurry,” he smiled at her with his voice.
Then he stood over her, looking at her and gently pushing her tousled hair back from her face.
“Ali you’re so beautiful,” he said as he had last night.
“So are you Hugh. You’re perfect. You’re divine.”
He lowered his head and put his lips to her mouth but he didn’t kiss her and didn’t quite touch her. He breathed heavily into her open mouth saying her name over and over, looking up and down her face and into her eyes. She was overcome and started to cry silently.
“Oh Hugh. Please. Please.”
He lifted her up a few inches and pinned her body against the cupboard with his own. He was inside her so easily, so deftly. The size of him made it barely necessary to move at all. He had his eyes closed and his head thrown back in ecstasy. She rubbed her breasts against him and he moaned.
“Ali. Are you going to come soon? Are you?”
“Soon. Nearly.” She put her hands on his buttocks and pulled him harder into her. She moved just a little and it set things off. A light started to glow deep inside her and got brighter and bigger and hotter. Involuntarily she went rigid for a few seconds, holding it in, concentrating it until she couldn't hold it any longer and it throbbed into her vagina, on and off and on and off. Without realising it she was crying out and so was he. The strong set of ring muscles made sure the message was effectively conveyed to Hugh and she could feel him pulsing strongly with a returning pale green iridescent light of his own.
When it was over she said, “Hugh, will you come to bed and kiss me?”
“Of course sweetie. I’ll be in in a minute. I’ve just got to get rid of this.”
He kissed her to sleep. It was exquisite.
THE REST OF THE WEEK went very slowly indeed. In the office Hugh was distant and rather stern, that is to say he acted normally. Ali marvelled at his self control.
Naturally they’d had the obligatory sex the next morning when they woke up. Inevitable really. He woke up very early and related that normally he’d go for a run or to the gym, but today he’d make an exception. And he’d certainly done so exceptionally well.
But by the time they’d showered in the darling slipper bath and grabbed some toast, he’d sort of shut down again. And in the car he’d said that of course they’d have to be discreet at the office. Ali had to work hard not to show how disappointed she was. But after all, she was a career girl she told herself. These things happened. She must act professionally, not like a silly schoolgirl.
Who was she kidding she thought! She was besotted. She’d walk over glass shards for one touch of his hand, one nibble at her throat, one….
“It’d be embarrassing otherwise.”
“Oh yes. Yes of course,” she readily agreed, hoping he couldn’t read her mind like he always seemed to normally in that uncanny way he had. Nor hear the catch in her throat.
Perhaps she was just being incredibly naïve. Perhaps Hugh was the 'Love you and leave you' type, only interested in a one-night stand. What was it she’d said to Sam so recently? Whereas for a girl….well who’s going to refuse?
“Good. Perhaps you can go over Desmond’s forensics first thing when we get in as you suggested last night. Before you go off and help Alison. It is your day for Alison isn't it?”
Yes it was. It was her day to work under Alison, not to writhe ecstatically under Hugh. She had to stop this she told herself sharply and for the rest of the journey she concentrated hard on what she could remember reading already of Desmond’s forensics.
Hugh said nothing more and his expression remained closed.
HUGH AND ALI ARRIVING in the same car didn’t attract any comment. After all she lived on his route into Colchester. He might’ve picked her up at the bus stop.
Ali shut herself in The Privy and scoured Desmond’s forensics. The flat had been gone over once it was realised that Andrews wasn’t coming round and the police might have a homicide on their hands. He lived alone so no-one else had access to the flat.
There wasn’t really much on the file though. Apart from Andrews’s blood on the floor and splatters of it on the wall, Desmond’s prints had been found on the door, the TV and a small table near the door, fibres from his clothes had been found under Andrews’s nails, fibres from Desmond's clothes had been found on Andrews’s clothes and vice versa and Andrews's prints and other unidentified prints had been found on the beer bottle. It was presumed that the unidentified prints were those of shopkeepers, warehouse workers etc. The fibres held no clues really. No-one was saying there hadn’t been a tussle.
Also there was CCTV evidence of Desmond driving towards Andrews’s building and driving away from it.
Ali thought for some time and then went to Hugh’s room after checking he was free. He smiled kindly and distantly and Ali felt a rush of anger that she brushed aside.
Somewhat coldly she listed to him the points she'd come up with.
“It’s not really a forensic point, but if the prosecution are claiming Desmond intended to murder Andrews, then he had the chance to finish him off before he left the flat but he didn’t. You could use that.”
“Yes but Desmond wouldn't be the first person to think better of his intended actions and change his mind when it came to it. Nor the first person to realise they were going to be caught and contacted the police. But at the actual time of the punch, he might have intended it to be fatal. Alternatively, Desmond might have thought Andrews was actually dead when he left.”
“OK, then Desmond’s prints weren’t on the bottle at all. But if he’d want to kill Andrews, the perfect weapon was there and available and he obviously didn't handle the bottle and then wipe it because of the alien prints on it.”
“Absolutely, but Desmond didn’t need a knife or broken bottle or any weapon to do serious harm. He was quite capable of flooring him with just one punch apparently. Andrews might have used the bottle purely defensively against this much bigger stronger more competent man.”
“All that’s possibly true but Desmond was in the flat a very short time. The CCTV evidence shows that. He had very little time to go round the flat, get invited in, get into an argument, have a fight and subtly rearrange things to make it look different. To make it look like he was someone who had turned up and was borne along by the circumstances. Basically the forensic evidence supports his account. It doesn’t add up to a person who planned a serious attack.”
“They’re good points. But he could of course have thought up his account later based on what he thought the forensic evidence was likely to produce.”
“Right then finally, I checked the pattern of the finger prints. Desmond’s prints on the small table near the door were more akin to someone who had been backed up against the table, therefore acting defensively rather than offensively. If he had cannoned off the table you would have expected one hand or possibly both on the top of the table. But Desmond’s prints showed he was gripping the table while facing away from it. His fingers were near the edge underneath the table top. I think it means he was backing away from this broken bottle.”
“Good point.”
“Well that’s all I’ve got.”
Hugh’s private line rang and he answered it while swivelling his chair to face the window.
He listened for a few seconds then said: “I told you I wasn't going to speak to you again. And that’s what I meant. I’m not speaking to you. Goodbye.” And he crashed the `phone down.
It was a good job he couldn't see the filthy look on Ali’s face as she stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
THE DAY STRETCHED uninvitingly ahead. Ali wasn’t keen on matrimonial work. Having spent several weeks working on cases for Alison, she had already started to feel that one couple’s excessive hatred for each other was much like another’s and secretly wanted to tell most of the people she saw to stop behaving like kids and grow up and think about the harm they were doing their children.
If anything, the ones who claimed to have just drifted apart, to be having a “civilised” divorce and remained good friends were even more aggravating. Ali thought they could at least make some attempt to patch things up if only for the sake of the children. The marriage was going wrong anyway and no-one else was involved they often claimed, or at least nothing had “happened” until they were suitably and properly separated from the other party.
So, Ali thought, you couldn't possibly have channelled all that energy and effort into saving your marriage rather than using it to stoke up the next relationship. It was obvious that an old long term relationship just couldn't possibly compete on level terms with the excitement and sexual buzz of a new one.
