Club Crème

by Primula Bond

  ‘Ah, Summers.’ She sighed out my name in another yawn, pulling her skirt down in a lazy fashion. There wasn’t a trace of embarrassment on her solemn features. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I could ask you the same question,’ I replied, stepping into the room and dropping my bag noisily on the floor. ‘Bringing yourself off while talking to a new member! Whatever next?’

  ‘Bringing myself off with a new member, perhaps?’ she said. She raised her eyebrows suggestively, and I found it was me who was blushing. ‘Do you think we should find out if he’s the one with the magnificent staff?’

  I let out a yelp of astonished laughter, and she inclined her head, pleased with her joke.

  ‘It always turns me on,’ she said, smiling. ‘They ring up, all royal and polite with their enquiries about the club, and they tell you their lives are dull and sad, and yet after some gentle prodding they give you all the gory details, and their lives aren’t dull and sad at all.’

  ‘You give good telephone, that’s why,’ I joked. She nodded vigorously, lowering her feet to the floor and standing up.

  ‘So why are you not at Symes Hall?’ she demanded, back to schoolmistress mode, and I sat down meekly in the chair in front of her.

  ‘I couldn’t hack it. Turned out Mr Hall’s fiancée was one of my oldest friends. I didn’t put two and two together. She’d never told me his surname and she always calls him Jeremy. Avril called him Jez.’

  Miss Sugar pulled out a fresh file, ready to fill with tonight’s new member and his details. ‘So you didn’t enjoy yourself at the Hall? Nothing interesting happened while you were there?’

  I grew hotter and shifted in my seat. I had a feeling that if I told her I’d screwed both Merlin and his esteemed father, Miss Sugar would go mad. And I wanted her on my side for a little longer.

  ‘I came here today to hand in my notice,’ I said instead. ‘I think I’ve gone as far as I can go in this job.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she said briskly, flipping over a couple of sheets in the file as if I had just told her I’d chosen some controversial new linen for the bedrooms. ‘You’ve only just started.’

  ‘Seriously, Sugar. I feel as if I’m being sucked into this place. I had lots of future plans when I came for that interview. I never intended to stay forever.’

  She picked up the silver pen and tapped it against her teeth for a moment, studying me.

  ‘You’d be making a big mistake leaving here. You’ve a great future ahead of you. Right here. Or so I’m told,’ she said. She patted her hair and folded her feet neatly underneath her chair. I was flattered. I expected her to try to dissuade me, but she simply changed the subject. ‘Now, I need you to help me out tonight. With that new member.’ She jerked the pen towards the telephone. ‘Then make your final decision, if you must, tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I mumbled, trying to see the file she was now making notes on. She whisked it playfully away from my scrutiny. ‘I feel I ought to put some distance between me and the club immediately before I’m completely trapped.’

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ she chided, and I sat back. It was oddly comforting to be ticked off by her, I realised. I wondered if, in fact, good old Miss Sugar already knew what I’d been up to. I studied her again and, with a shock to add to my earlier surprise, realised just how attractive she might be underneath that pale hair and ghostly expression.

  I wrenched my mind away from the memory of her secrets and the streak of folded red flesh I’d spied, and spread my hands in protest.

  ‘I love the job, Sugar. In fact, that’s the trouble. I love it too much. I’m not used to feeling like that. It scares me. You all scare me.’

  ‘So you keep saying,’ she sniffed, slapping the file shut. She glanced at the clock, which said well after five. ‘But the others aren’t here right now. I am. And think of the overtime you’ll earn if you come with me tonight. Looking at you, I can’t believe some more cash won’t come in handy. I’m in charge while they’re away, and your resignation hasn’t been accepted. So I’m telling you to get dressed.’

  ‘What shall I wear?’ I gave in.

  ‘Oh, come now, do I have to make all the decisions for you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, hanging my head meekly. ‘I’m no good at this kind of thing. I still need to be told what to do and what to wear.’

  She clicked round the desk, her face relaxing visibly as she sensed she could start ordering me about.

  ‘Do you have any idea how much Mimi spends on dressing her employees? Image is everything. And I just happen to have something here that might suit you. We don’t have much time. You could put it on now.’

  She dipped her hand into a large bag beside her desk and drew out a diaphanous white Ghost dress and some silvery sandals. The dress looked impossibly creased to me, but she shook it out in such a way that instantly it floated through the air, ready to wear.

  ‘Do you ever chill, Sugar?’ I asked, taking the dress and holding it against me. Instantly I felt beautiful and floaty myself. She had chosen well. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like the way you order people about. It makes me feel secure; like you’re my governess. But you’re not really Miss Prim, are you? I mean, talking about people being left to their own devices . . .’

  She took the dress off me, jerking her head stiffly to indicate that I should take my baggy old sweater off. I pulled it over my head then started to tug at my T-shirt.

  ‘That’s right. Everything off,’ she ordered. She wrenched the T-shirt off before I could protest, and then I was standing in front of her in my underwear.

  ‘What about this?’ I teased, twirling around in the way I’d been taught to model the swimsuits, jutting out my hips and pulling back my shoulders, staring down my nose at her as if I was at the end of a catwalk. ‘This is quality stuff. Or would you like me to take this off as well?’

  Miss Sugar licked her lips and stood still for a moment, then reached out and took a corner of the lace that bordered the breast cups of the cream basque I was wearing and fingered it thoughtfully. Her cold fingers very faintly brushed the plump skin of my breasts, and goose pimples came up at the touch. Then she pushed me gently so that I had to give her another twirl.

  ‘Yes. No. This will do perfectly,’ she said. She seemed to be out of breath and stepped back from me hurriedly. She went back behind the desk and started to pack up her briefcase. ‘You were going to say something? About people being left to their own devices?’

  ‘Forgotten already?’ I teased, easing on the silvery sandals and strutting round the office still wearing only the basque. I didn’t want to put the dress on until the last minute. ‘I meant, I know what you do to yourself when you think no one’s looking. Frisking yourself when you’re talking to clients on the phone.’

  Miss Sugar paused with her back to me, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. She was quite capable of slapping me if I wasn’t careful. Then she buttoned up her coat, picked up her briefcase and walked calmly towards the door where I had hovered a little while ago, watching her.

  ‘It doesn’t trouble me what you’ve seen. I’ve done nothing wrong as far as I can see. Perhaps if the phone was one of these new-fangled video phones it would be even more fun.’ She gave a little shrug, a tight smile stretching her mouth as she glided out on to the landing. ‘But we all have hungry cunts tucked away in our drawers, don’t we, Summers?’

  I nearly choked with surprise, and found that I was the one folding my arms defensively across my bulging cleavage as I stood half naked in front of her. I nodded sheepishly.

  ‘I have to go and change,’ she said. ‘Don’t bother to return home. Just meet me at the opera house in an hour.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ I whispered, as she clicked up the stairs to her room. And I meant it.

  16

  It was good to be part of a swirling, anonymous crowd again. It reminded me of arriving in a strange city for the first time. London sti
ll felt strange to me, even though I’d been back for a couple of months. There was still so much to discover. Yet again an inner voice told me to put my travelling plans on hold.

  The fragile dress alternately brushed over and clung to my body as I took the bus up Piccadilly. I had grabbed a long scarlet coat that was hanging in the office to keep me warm. One of Mimi’s, I assumed. I reckoned I’d be in trouble if she found out but that only filled me with a jittery excitement as I drew the borrowed velvet folds round me and hurried into the foyer of the opera house.

  I couldn’t see Miss Sugar anywhere. For a few minutes I allowed myself to be jostled and pushed by the crowd. The scent of expensive perfume wafted in the air and, for a moment, I was reminded of Chrissie. I wondered what was happening at Symes Hall. To distract myself from the meshed images of Sir Simeon and Merlin, not to mention Mimi and Jeremy, Chrissie and her golden-haired toy boy, and Miss Sugar frisking herself in her swivel chair, I tried to plan what I would say to Chrissie when she came back to London. Meanwhile, I searched the crowd, expecting to see Miss Sugar in her long grey coat.

  The bell rang to announce the performance and everyone surged into the auditorium. There was hardly anyone left. I remembered that Miss Sugar had mentioned an opera box when she was on the telephone. I followed the signs towards the boxes as the lights went down and one or two attendants frowned at me as they wheeled away trolleys stacked with half full glasses of champagne and canapés.

  All the box doors were closed. Except one. I tiptoed over and peered in. There was a row of people sitting at the front of the box, already peering through their opera glasses at the stage. On a little chair in the back corner I could see the outline of a man, sitting alone.

  ‘Go in, quick,’ a voice hissed behind me. My velvet coat was pulled off and I was pushed inside. Someone rustled about, closing the door. We were all sealed inside the warm gloom of the box. I could see only a ghostly figure, also wearing a white dress, flitting towards the man in the corner and sitting beside him. A long white arm beckoned me to follow just as the overture started up below us, and I realised who it was.

  I could get used to this life, I thought, as the first act burst into life and carried us along on a tide of colour and rich vibrating voices. Under cover of the music, Miss Sugar was leaning towards the man and occasionally whispering. Once or twice she gestured towards me, but I kept my eyes firmly forwards, determined to enjoy the evening’s entertainment. Coming to the opera was her idea. Let her do all the work.

  ‘This is my friend Suki. I hope you don’t mind her gatecrashing your box, Johnny, but as I told you, she was desperate to see this production,’ Miss Sugar was saying to the man as the lights eventually went up for the interval. Actually, she was purring at him.

  I turned and, as I did so, she wound one arm round my neck and pulled me right across her body to introduce me to her new companion. I concentrated on the warm glow of a new challenge stealing through me as I cast my eye over our new member. I’d been right about his voice on the telephone: he was very young indeed – an endearing mixture of cocky and cute. Not much over twenty. Much younger than the other men I’d met so far, in fact.

  So much the better, to get Sir Simeon and Merlin out of my head.

  Our Johnny had the scrubbed blond looks of a man fresh out of an all-male college and a hunky body trussed up awkwardly in a dinner jacket. Was his wife blind as well as off sex?

  ‘Enchanted,’ he said, his voice catching nervously.

  I caught Miss Sugar’s eye. She raised her eyebrows at me; her version of a wink.

  ‘Where are my manners?’ I tittered, reaching to shake hands with our man. ‘I work with Miss Sugar at Club Crème. I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your surname.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ giggled Miss Sugar. ‘I was so wrapped up in listening to you on the phone earlier, I quite forgot to ask.’

  I sat up to look at her properly and could hardly contain my amazement. The dress she was wearing was not only white, it was an identical Ghost dress to mine. Her pale gold hair, instead of being scraped back in its usual bun, fell in gentle waves around her face like a flapper girl. She had told me to wear my hair loose, too, and she wore the same startling shade of scarlet lipstick as mine.

  ‘I don’t mind you gatecrashing at all,’ he said and coughed, looking from one to the other of us. The expression in his face changed rapidly from mild awkwardness to frankly open lust. ‘How could I mind two such gorgeous creatures dropping into my lap like this?’

  Miss Sugar tipped my face up and kissed me full on the lips.

  ‘We’re like sisters, aren’t we?’ she crooned, still holding my face close to hers.

  ‘You certainly look as if you could be,’ Johnny agreed, shifting out of his seat so that the one on the far side of him was vacant. ‘Now, Suki, why don’t you come and sit beside me? Then I can be a thorn between two roses.’

  Miss Sugar dug one sharp fingernail into my ribs. I stood up obediently and tried to step past her, but I stumbled in the narrow gap between the seats and fell forwards, virtually straddling Miss Sugar. I grabbed the back of her chair to steady myself so that my arms fell on either side of her head. I paused deliberately. The game was beginning.

  ‘Whoops! Lost my balance,’ I said, giggling softly, smiling a big red smile at her. She smiled back, and slid her hands up my legs to my hips, pulling me down on to her knee. I hesitated, then spread my legs a little further, settling down. Johnny rubbed his hand across his mouth, staring at us, but we carried on looking at each other. I’d thought seeing her frisking herself in the office was revelation enough, but seeing Miss Sugar as an almost transparent beauty who you could blow over like a feather, was something else.

  Somewhere behind me I thought I could hear the other people at the front of the box also shifting about, trying to see what was going on. But any minute now the lights would be dimmed again, and we’d be alone with our victim.

  ‘Has Mimi seen you dressed up like this?’ I asked Miss Sugar without really thinking. ‘Or have you been hiding your light under a bushel all this time?’

  ‘Of course she’s seen me dressed up,’ she sniffed, a hint of the normal personality appearing. ‘I’ve been doing this job as long as she has. You’re the newcomer around here. Just remember that.’

  I leaned over so that my breasts were nearly in her face. Her fingers tightened their grip on my hips, and then she couldn’t resist lowering her gaze to take in the valley of my cleavage, just inches away.

  ‘And I’ve already proved myself as indispensable. Just remember that,’ I replied. Then I raised my voice so that our companion would be bound to hear me. ‘Do you think we should let Johnny get on with his opera in peace? There’s plenty else we could be getting up to . . .’

  ‘I say, girls. You both look a little . . . frisky,’ Johnny said. He cleared his throat again and, very slowly, we turned our heads to look at him. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, wiping sweat from his brow. ‘How about we split from here and go somewhere more private?’

  ‘We were forgetting ourselves. Sorry,’ said Miss Sugar, pulling me closer so that my groin was up against her stomach and her cheek was pressed between my breasts. ‘It’s just that we haven’t seen each other for ages, have we, Suki? And I missed you.’

  She nuzzled her nose in between my breasts and I gave an involuntary shiver. Of surprise or pleasure I wasn’t at first certain, but I was sure of one thing: the little slick of wetness I felt as she licked the warm cleavage was not for Johnny’s benefit. He couldn’t possibly have seen.

  ‘I could hold you all night, Sugar,’ I said and giggled again, wriggling as her hands edged up my sides and she drew herself away from my breasts with a soft shake of her head. ‘But as we’re here as guests, I think we should take up Johnny’s kind invitation to stay in his box and catch the rest of the show, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, no. I think we’ve already outstayed our welcome,’ Miss Sugar started to protest. I could tell that
her plan was to leave the theatre as Johnny had suggested, and get on with this blatant seduction scene somewhere more private. I could tell he was itching to leave as well. But I had another idea.

  ‘This way we can enjoy the show and look forward to some fun afterwards,’ I insisted.

  I slid off her knee as I spoke. The lights were going down for the second act. The people in the front of the box were reluctantly turning away, putting the opera glasses up to their eyes. I pulled my dress right up my thighs and stepped over Johnny’s knees so that I was on his other side. I pretended to stumble again, falling onto his lap as I turned to sit down. He held my arm to steady me. A gentleman, I noted. His other hand was buried in his lap, clutching his groin. Just as I had thought – he was already turned on.

  The music in the second act was even more rousing than in the first, and it meant that no other noises could possibly be heard. I didn’t want to wait until the end, or until we left the theatre, I wanted to get to work right away. Not just for Johnny’s sake but my own as well. This latest adventure with Miss Sugar had blown away my cares. Acting with her as part of a duo was going to be far more interesting than I’d anticipated. My ‘professional’ self had taken over. And I was going to enjoy it.

  As the music and voices on the stage joined forces and swelled out around us, I pushed my seat right back against the wall of the box, pretending to be a little restless. All that charade of climbing over everyone’s knees was unnecessary. There was plenty of room at the back for us all to stretch our legs, and any other part of us.

  I glanced across at Miss Sugar. She glanced back, frowning a question. I hadn’t worked it out myself and, after all, she was technically the leader on this occasion, but on impulse I jerked my head at our victim and then pushed my forefinger in and out of my mouth. It was hard to see clearly, but I was pretty certain I could see her dip her head in agreement. The first step of our campaign was decided.