Kris had also dressed more elegantly for the evening, not too formally but wearing a simple black dress that came to just above her knees, the front cut low to display those charms, at least, with which she knew Maria Gosselin could not compete. Her high heels felt a little strange, and she had to walk carefully, wincing once or twice as she placed her foot on the floor.
Seeing the expression on her face, Maria rose and for a few seconds made a show of concern, lifting her arms and touching Kris’s arms before sliding down to hold her hands. “Your ankle, how foolish of me. I had forgotten that you had hurt it. You should have let me send Jorge for you.”
“It’s fine, really,” Kris replied, extricating her hands and dipping her head while she sat down, breaking the slightly hypnotic gaze of those green eyes. “Soon I won’t even know that I damaged it.”
“Yes, Daniel had told me you injured yourself.” Kris froze slightly at the mention of her lover’s name, but Maria either did not notice or affected not to. Instead, she looked around at the cream painted walls, illuminated by soft lighting and decorated with tear-shaped Portuguese guitars as used by Fado musicians. “This seems a lovely place, très bon! I can only hope the food is as good as the atmosphere.”
A couple entered, taking a seat a few tables away and Kris gestured to the waiter, asking him to bring red wine for her. Now that she was close to Maria again, her confidence had wilted slightly and she needed some stimulus to build it up again.
“It’s good. Not the best, perhaps, but this isn’t one of the usual tourist traps you find here.”
“I shall take your word for it.” Maria’s smile, Kris realised, made her a little wolfish as she rested her chin on her hands, leaning forward and looking for all the world as though she was a long-time confidante, eager to share some juicy gossip. “I hear the best restaurants are in Alfama, but perhaps that is too close to where you live.”
“Did Daniel tell you that as well?”
“No, Jorge. He is a gold mine of information—a most charming guide to the city, don’t you think?”
Kris agreed somewhat reluctantly, less because she doubted Jorge’s information, rusty as it must have been from his time away, but more because she resented slightly the fact that Maria was able to call on him more freely than herself. When the waiter brought her wine, she took a large swig, the rich taste a little fiery in her throat. That was better.
When the waiter returned, Maria ordered Chorizo to start, followed by grilled sea bass, while Kris decided upon codfish cakes and a wine-fried steak. “And more wine, please,” Maria told the waiter. “It will help the conversation flow, don’t you think. Just bring the bottle and leave it on the table. A Douro if you have it.” She looked to Kris who simply nodded her head in agreement.
A few other people started to enter and take their places, Maria watching them across Kris’s shoulder with a half-smile upon her lips. “So when the performance starts, that will serenade us during our meal, correct?”
Kris frowned but nodded. “I... guess so,” she replied warily.
“How romantic. I must say, I’m enjoying it here in Lisbon very much—much more than I’d expected. I’d been once before, but just a day or two—a conference, if I remember correctly. There didn’t seem much reason to return, but now I realise how much I’ve been missing.”
“It’s not long until you return to Paris, is it?” Kris’s words came out a little more tartly than she had intended, but Maria’s smile simply broadened. She paused for a moment, as though weighing up her own response, then said:
“Next week. Long enough to see Daniel.”
Once more Kris froze. This was going to be harder than she anticipated, and she drank another mouthful of red wine, barely noticing it but for the fiery aftertaste on her tongue. Maria’s one eyebrow rose again, and in that moment Kris wanted to reach across and punch her supercilious eye, no matter how green and beautiful it was—anything to stop the arch motions of her brow.
Having judged her pause sufficient, Maria continued: “I’ll fill him in on the details of the Chiado takeover, which is more or less complete now. What was once on the periphery of Stone Enterprises is now brought into the fold. Whether it is a wise move or not is for my betters to determine.”
“Why, what’s wrong with it? What I saw of the accounts looked healthy enough.”
“And you are an expert on the finances of shipping companies, Miss Avelar?” Maria’s smirk now was almost unbearable, but before Kris could respond the waiter had brought their first courses to the table.
Maria turned her attention to the chorizo sausage before her, slicing it and placing delicate pieces into her mouth before screwing up her lips in a somewhat exaggerated expression of pleasure. “Une délicatesse,” she breathed, dabbing at the corner of her lips before taking another piece. “You rarely get such good chorizo in Paris.” She smiled at Kris, whose own food tasted like ashes in her mouth. Instead of taking another mouthful, she let her fork fall to the plate and drank more wine.
This revived her determination. She still was looking for the right entry point to the questions that were really on her mind. “You said you’ve known Daniel for nine years, yes?”
Maria nodded, her eyes now fixed on Kris’s face. “That’s correct.”
“What I still can’t understand is why he wants you here, in Lisbon.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That he trusts you.”
“There you are.” Maria chewed on another tiny piece of chorizo. It was easy to see how she maintained her slender and graceful figure: she ate like a bird and only sipped at her wine, though that did not prevent her from pouring more red into Kris’s glass. “The mystery is resolved.”
“But... but I’m sure there are plenty of other lawyers he can trust to get the job done.”
“Not as much as me, not for this. I can assure you that.” Maria’s flashed her teeth when she smiled, bright and sharp.
“There must be others who understand the legalities here better than you do.”
The insult was barely veiled, but instead of responding angrily Maria placed her knife and fork on the table fastidiously and clasped her fingers together. Her face was mask-like for a moment, but there was a glitter of... was it humour or anger in her eyes as she looked at Kris?
“So, now you’re as much a legal expert as you are on the finances of shipping companies. But we’re not here to discuss law or finance, are we, Miss Avelar. You think you’re the first, don’t you? They always do.”
“No.” Kris blushed and took another swig of wine to fortify herself more. “Daniel’s told me about... the others.”
“Has he, has he indeed?” Maria looked frankly sceptical. “And he told you about me?”
Kris was ashamed of this, that her barefaced lie had been discovered so quickly. She knew there had been others before her, but in truth Daniel had told her very little about his sexual past. What she knew she had deduced more from his behaviour to her than anything else, but even then she had a feeling deep down inside her that there was something different.
“Not much,” she confessed at last. “And you, has he told you about me?”
It was Maria’s turn to pause. She leaned back in her seat and looked at Kris, her hair shining softly in the light, her expression thoughtful. “Not as much as I would have hoped, but then he rarely does.”
“So how do you know about... the others?”
“It is my job to discover things about people,” Maria replied with a shrug. She returned to her chorizo and Kris sipped her drink a little more slowly. Her head was starting to feel ever so slightly tipsy.
The silence was too much for her to bear, and instead she observed: “Those rubies, on your ear, the ring on your finger. They’re from him, aren’t they.”
Maria smiled at this and the look in her eye was more conspiratorial now as she flashed her eyes towards Kris. “A gift. Yes. Daniel is always very generous with his gifts. And what was yours?”
<
br /> For a few seconds Kris didn’t want to respond. To have a truth confirmed that she had refused to consider made her feel a little sick in her stomach. “Sapphires. A necklace.”
“How lovely,” said Maria after she finished another slice of chorizo. “You should wear it more. It would suit your eyes.”
“I sold it.”
This was the first thing that Kris had said that appeared to make Maria pause. “You sold it?” she asked, almost incredulous. Her look gave Kris a small sense of triumph. “Why on earth did you do that?”
Kris stopped before replying. The first question in her mind was why on earth she should tell Maria Gosselin anything, but she could not resist pushing even this small victory home. “There was something else I wanted. I needed the money for... something closer to home.”
The waiter came across to clear their plates away, halting when he saw Kris’s dish largely untouched. She however waved him away, savouring another treat that was far tastier, a lightheaded pleasure.
Maria looked scornful. “Are you really that much of a fool? Daniel would have bought you anything—anything you wanted.”
“I know,” Kris replied, sipping her wine for the first time and letting it roll around her mouth, enjoying the sensation of it against her tongue before it splashed down her throat. “In any case, I don’t think jewellery suits me anywhere near as much as it does you.”
Unconsciously Maria’s hands were lifted to her ears, the ruby on her finger flashing in the low light of the restaurant. Behind Kris’s back, a trio of Fado musicians were making their way to the small clearing at the far end of the room where three stools had been placed. A couple of people at other tables let out small cheers and laughter. There were two male guitarists and a female singer, the men perhaps in their forties or fifties even, the woman late thirties, slim and pleasant looking.
Feeling emboldened, Kris returned her attention to Maria. “How long did you know Daniel?”
“I told you. Nine years.”
“That’s not what I mean. How long were you with Daniel?”
For a second, it appeared as though Maria’s eyes were filled with pain, but she composed herself.
“I was the first,” she said. “Nine years ago.”
“The first? I thought that was his wife.”
At this, Maria snorted. “I doubt it, not in the way that I—that we—understand it. I’m not talking about his first love. Who knows if his wife was even that? Perhaps the young Daniel Stone loved a girl at school, or fumbled with a young woman while a teenager. It is not that kind of love that we’re talking about here.”
Kris wanted to intervene, to tell her that perhaps it was precisely that kind of love she was talking about, but Maria appeared ready to tell her much more and so she did not interrupt.
“It was nine, ten months after his accident. His scars were much worse then. I had not seen him immediately after the crash, when apparently they were jagged, ugly things across his face, but you could still see the marks left by the stitches. Why he never had plastic surgery I don’t know. I think... I think they were an expression of his anger at the world, great red marks that lined his once handsome face.”
As she spoke, their main courses were brought to them. Maria lifted another fork and began to eat in between speaking, and Kris forced a mouthful or two down. She could barely taste the food, however, nor was she listening much to the guitarists behind her tuning their instruments and speaking to the diners at their tables.
“I was young—younger than you are now, though hardly a callow teenager. My services had been called upon by Stone Enterprises. It was a new company—Daniel had formed it not long before his wife’s death, and it nearly folded during the months immediately after the crash, but he was working long and hard, forcing himself to work, work, work.
“I was eager to please, to shine and demonstrate my talents. He noticed that—he noticed, and he liked that.” Maria let her fork rest on the plate for a moment and Kris did the same, listening in awful fascination to the story that unfolded.
“I suppose it began as an affair, just like any other. But... but he wanted more. And I wanted more as well. I’d never met anyone like him. Well, that’s not entirely true. I had met many rich and successful people, certainly. Indeed, Daniel was not so wealthy then—respectably so, rather than filthy rich. But the way he commanded a situation...” Maria’s voice drifted off for a moment, and her gaze had not alighted anywhere in the room.
At that moment, the two guitarists began to play, one on the twelve-string guitarra, the other accompanying him on a bass, a simple mournful melody that built up until the woman joined in, her voice clear and sad in the restaurant. With a slight surprise, Kris realised that Maria had completely drifted away, carried off by the music she was listening to.
“Very beautiful,” she said, returning her gaze to Kris after a little while. In that instant, Kris saw that the mask had been returned, and that the woman seated across from her was as self-controlled as she had ever been, a film across her eyes that was as effective a guard to her soul as the sunglasses she had worn before.
“Can you understand it? The words?”
Maria shook her head. “No doubt it is something extremely sentimental.” She gave a little smirk. “Such things inevitably are.”
“It’s called Chuva, or Rain.” Kris listened for a while and then translated. “There are days that steal our soul and life... and the one that you’ve left me I can’t forget... The rain wet my face... frozen and tired... the streets of the city I’ve already crossed.”
At this, Maria simply nodded. She opened her mouth, as though to say something trite and cynical, but words did not come. Instead, at last, she offered the defensive observation: “As I say, sentimental.”
Recognising the motive for this dismissive comment, Kris felt her anger ebbing away. The wine had eased her, she realised, and also made her bolder, with a curiosity that was still not sated yet.
“How long were you with him?”
Maria shrugged. “Two years, more or less.”
“What happened?”
Applause rippled around the restaurant and both Kris and Maria joined in, politely rather than attentive. “He grew bored, I suppose. We both did, perhaps.” The high, false laugh that Maria gave at that point proved the latter part of her statement a lie, but Kris was sensitive enough not to ask.
“And what was he like?”
Once more Maria gazed over her shoulder, watching the singers as they played another song. She said nothing for what felt like an age though it was probably no more than two minutes. At last she replied: “It was as nothing I’ve ever experienced before, nor since—though I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. He took me, completely. He consumed me. I was just a young woman, and though he was not even ten years older than me, there was a... power in him that I was unable to resist. But you know what that is like.” Her eyes flickered away from Kris’s down to her plate, and she placed a fork of her food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“Yes,” agreed Kris quietly, her voice barely audible over the singer and musicians.
This caused Maria to raise an eyebrow, but this one was not as sardonic nor as dismissive as the gesture had been previously. “He pushed me—very hard, sometimes, harder than I thought I could bear. But I did. Most of it, anyway. The contract protected me... for a while at least. I’m sure he does the same with you.”
Kris shook her head. “There is no contract,” she said.
“No contract?” Maria looked surprised again. “How do you... stop him, when he goes too far? And what guarantee is there for you?”
Kris frowned at this. The questions had shifted, and she had no desire to speak about Daniel sexually with this woman, to reveal her own secrets, and yet she did wish to know about what had happened between Maria and Daniel, even though some of it made her feel sick inside. Taking a mouthful of food, she could barely swallow it and instead gulped down wine instead. To her surprise,
she realised that more than half the bottle was gone, and yet Maria seemed to have consumed very little of the alcohol.
“We have a... we have a safe word. That’s enough. Not that I particularly use it.” As she spoke, she could feel herself blushing, embarrassed at how trivial and foolish it sounded, but once more the wine made her bold and she stared directly at Maria who was smirking at her, her old sardonic amusement returned.
“Well, if you say that is enough, who am I to contradict? It sounds as though the master is being topped by the bottom, but if it works for you both...” She shrugged again.
“Wait a minute.” Through the fuzziness of Kris’s memory, words came to the fore. “You said that before. Being topped by the bottom. What does it mean?”
Maria’s expression was exquisite and arch. “I do wonder as to your education, Miss Avelar. You are the bottom, he is the top. He the master, you the slave. You submit to everything he requires, and he dominates you completely—and for that you are handsomely rewarded, no?”
No, thought Kris. It’s not like that. It was, perhaps, for you. But not any more. She felt confused, almost certainly because she had drunk more than she intended, but she could do no more than shake her head. She was not sure whether the expression on Maria’s face was one of sardonicism or disbelief.
“You said there were others. Who... who were they?”
Maria laughed and for a moment did not reply, taking a healthy mouthful of her fish and savouring the taste of it in her mouth. At last she answered: “There were five of them.”
“Five? Daniel slept with five others after you... and before me?”
Fragile Crystal: Rubies and Rivalries (The Crystal Fragments Trilogy) Page 9