by Julia Blake
‘Eve!’
Gradually we slowed, lay still, our ragged breathing the only sound in the dimly lit room, and I longed for him to say the words, ached to say them back to him, but because he couldn’t, I wouldn’t, and the moment passed.
He rolled onto his back, taking me with him so I flopped in a state of fluid contentment, my head on his chest, realised, with a twist of amusement, I was still wearing the socks. He removed the condom with a grimace of distaste, deposited it into a tissue. I laughed at his face.
‘Looks like I need to try taking the pill again,’ I murmured, and he looked at me in concern, gathering me close in his arms, drawing the duvet up and over us.
‘Why did you stop taking it?’
‘Oh, my blood pressure went through the roof and the doctor said I needed to come off it, but that was years ago, I’m sure...’
‘No,’ he interrupted fiercely. ‘You’re not taking it, not if there’s a chance it could hurt you, we’ll manage with condoms...’
‘But, they’re pretty gross...’
‘We’ll manage,’ he insisted firmly, and I realised it was the end of the matter.
We lay quietly, sated and content, firmly clasped in each others arms. I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy. We kissed, tenderly and gently, yet there was fire brewing beneath the kisses and I knew, with a thrill of anticipation, it wouldn’t be long before we made love again. Beside me Scott stretched, made to get out of bed, and I groaned and clutched at him.
‘Don’t go,’ I pleaded. He chuckled and kissed me firmly.
‘I won’t be long,’ he promised. “There’s something I want to get ...” He pulled on his trousers, leaving them unbuttoned so they rode low over his slim hips, and I growled with approval, making him glance at me, amused. ‘Down girl,’ he teased. ‘I’ll be back soon.’
I watched him go, realised I’d never appreciated how truly gorgeous his body was. I’d seen him in shorts and swimming trunks, obviously. Knew he took care of himself, worked out and so on, but it hadn’t been until today, seeing him completely naked, I’d realised how perfect it was.
I waited patiently for a few moments, but missed him, so slithered from the bed, tried to find my blouse, remembered it was probably still lying on the kitchen floor, so pulled his shirt loosely over me, doing up only the middle two buttons, padding into the lounge in search of him.
The sound of a champagne cork being pulled in the kitchen made me smile, the amazing view from the wall of glass caught and pulled me over to gaze out across the town. I could see the fair, its twinkling coloured lights looking like a distant magical kingdom, watched as the big wheel revolved, the people on it waving their arms in the air, wondered how clearly they could see me. I waved, no one waved back, forgot about them as a pair of arms, warm and strong and already achingly familiar, crept about me and Scott pulled me close, pressing kisses into my neck.
‘I wondered where you’d gone too,’ he murmured, and I leant back into him.
‘I was watching the fair,’ I replied dreamily. ‘How magical it looks.’
‘Do you want to get dressed and go to it?’ he asked, and I turned to look him in the eyes, rubbing my thumb over his bottom lip, watching as his gaze clouded over with desire.
‘The only place I want you to take me,’ I murmured, ‘Is back to bed.’ He took me by the hand, led me there. I smiled to see a bottle of champagne resting in an ice bucket, a pair of delicate crystal flutes beside it on the bedside cabinet. He poured out two glasses, handed me one. I sipped at the golden delicious liquid, eyeing him archly over the rim.
‘I didn’t think you drank,’ I murmured, and he smiled at me, a shy and sweet smile, so unlike his usual sardonic smirk that I blinked in surprise.
‘I’ll have a glass of champagne on really special occasions,’ he replied, and I ran my fingers lightly down his bare chest.
‘So, is this a special occasion?’ I asked and he moved closer, his free arm slipping around my waist, holding me firmly.
‘Oh, I think so, don’t you?’ he murmured, nibbling at my lip, breath tasting of champagne. I felt my heart thud against my rib cage, ached for him to go that final step and tell me what his true feelings were. He looked at me, his heart in his eyes. I held my breath, hoping, waiting...
‘Eve...’ he began hesitantly.
‘Yes?’ I breathed, heart thumping painfully with hopeful anticipation.
‘Eve, I...’ His phone suddenly rang, the moment was lost. He sighed, picked it up, frowned at the caller ID. ‘It’s Annaliese,’ he said, ‘Annaliese, hi, oh, I see, no, no, Eve’s with me, she had dinner with a friend in town and we met up afterwards for a drink,’ I smiled at his telling of the literal truth and all it was concealing, lightly tracing my fingers up and down his bare chest.
‘Erm, no, no, that won’t be a problem, I was about to run Eve home anyway,’ at my narrow eyed look of enquiry, he frowned and slightly shook his head. ‘Yes, yes, I quite understand, no, you’re right, it is worrying, so we’ll go there right now and I’ll call you to let you know everything’s ok, right, bye.’
‘What was all that about?’ I asked, as he tossed the phone onto the bed and began to hastily fasten his trousers.
‘Annaliese and Robert are still in London, Miles and Ferdie have gone to some university do and Caro’s out at her evening class. Annaliese suddenly realised Mimi’s completely on her own so tried to ring her, but she’s getting no answer.’
‘She’s probably gone to bed,’ I replied, reluctantly giving him back his shirt.
‘I know,’ he said, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull back on his socks and shoes, ‘But Annaliese is worried, so I said we’d go check Mimi’s ok.’ I pouted and he smiled, pulling me close and pressing a hasty kiss onto my nose. ‘Bring the champagne,’ he ordered. ‘I promise I’ll help you finish the bottle.’
‘Ok,’ I reluctantly agreed and picked up my underwear. ‘Have you seen my blouse?’ I asked, wiggling back into my teddy as he watched in evident enjoyment.
‘Kitchen, I think,’ he replied, ‘I’ll get it.’ When he came back, I was picking something up off the floor. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked. I held up the pack of condoms and smirked.
‘Packing for you,’ I replied, enjoyed the head rush of power at seeing the desire which leapt into his face. ‘How fast can you drive to the Hall and still be safe?’ I purred.
‘Very fast,’ he gasped, snatching the condoms and stuffing them into his pocket.
I attacked him in the lift, and again in the car, leaving him erect and groaning with frustrated need, his hands roaming up under my short skirt, long clever fingers arousing me to an aching painful want, the sharp tang of sex evident as we flopped back in our seats, flushed and panting.
‘Can’t we have one here?’ I begged, ‘Just to tide us over.’
‘Eve,’ he groaned, obviously tempted. ‘I promised Annaliese we’d be quick.’
‘Oh, believe me,’ I gasped. ‘It’ll be quick,’ and straddled him, rubbing myself onto his firm maleness. For a moment he succumbed, hands clasped my waist, thrusting upwards in evident desire. Then he groaned, reluctantly pulled me off, deposited me back onto the passenger’s seat.
‘Bad girl,’ he gasped, pulling on his seatbelt. ‘Let’s sort out the whole Mimi thing as quick as possible and then the only question will be...’
‘My room or yours,’ I finished his sentence, laid my head back on the rest, eyes huge with promise as he started the engine and we shot out of the car park. ‘My room has a fire ready laid,’ I murmured, hands delving between his legs, stroking and caressing. ‘And I have a yearning to seduce you in front of a roaring fire, before taking you to bed and doing it all over again.’
‘God, Eve...’ he moaned, only just stopping at a red light in time and narrowly missing hitting the kerb. I laughed
, low and throaty, thoroughly enjoying myself, wishing I’d had the nerve to do this years ago.
We made it to the Hall in record time, the car squealing to a halt, sending gravel flying in all directions. I jumped out, impatiently waiting as Scott climbed out and locked the doors, before grabbing and kissing me fiercely. ‘Now behave yourself,’ he murmured, ‘It’s probably best if we act like everything’s normal in front of Mimi.’
‘Ok,’ I promised, my hands roaming over his body. ‘I’ll try, oh god...’ my head lolled back as his hand cupped my breast, catching the nipple between his fingers. ‘You keep doing stuff like that though, and I’m afraid I’ll simply take you there and then, Mimi or no Mimi.’
He laughed and pulled away. I thought how I’d never known him so care free, then he glanced up at the Hall and frowned. ‘That’s odd,’ he remarked, ‘There’s no lights on.’ I looked up at the dark and imposing façade of the Hall, realised he was right, it was in total darkness. This was unheard of, Annaliese tended to leave lights on all over the place and we’d all fallen into the same bad habit. But now not a glimmer of light could be seen anywhere, the only illumination coming from two carriage lights either side of the door.
Holding hands we hurried up the steps and through the heavy front door. Inside, the entrance hall was almost pitch darkness and I stumbled slightly, feeling Scott’s hand tighten on mine.
‘Mimi?’ he called, his voice echoing into the blackness. ‘You stay here,’ he ordered, ‘I’ll feel my way across to the light switches, perhaps a fuse has blown or something. God, I hope not, I don’t fancy trying to find Mimi in the dark.’
‘Eve?’ there was a soft rustle from the direction of the stairs. I fancied I saw a shape creep softly upwards in the darkness.
‘Mimi?’ I called. ‘Is that you? Why is it so dark?’
‘I switched the lights off,’ she replied, her voice low, toneless. ‘They hurt my eyes.’
This had been one of the most bizarre symptoms of Mimi’s grief, her extreme sensitivity to light. Ferdie had claimed, in one of his rare insightful moments, it was because she didn’t want to see real life anymore, so hid away from it in shadows.
‘Please,’ she murmured. ‘Please don’t turn them back on yet, could you sit with me for a while, I don’t want to be alone and I’d like to talk... about what happened and about them...’
Beside me, I felt Scott tense. Throughout the past five months, Mimi had rarely spoken about the accident or about Andrew and Essie. Various experts had told Annaliese that, in their opinion, until Mimi snapped out of this denial and fully acknowledged they were gone, she would never be able to move on, or reach, to use that dreadful American phrase, closure.
‘Of course,’ Scott spoke, his voice low and reassuring. ‘We’ll sit here on the stairs with you, Mimi, and we can talk about whatever you want to.’ I felt a pang of disappointment, but shook it off, Scott and I had the rest of the night, indeed, the rest of our lives together, and this was important. If Mimi was finally prepared to talk about what had happened, then we had to put all other concerns to one side and be prepared to listen.
Carefully, we felt our way over to the stairs and began to climb. I stifled a gasp as Scott’s hand slid under my skirt, briefly caressed my bottom and then slithered down my thighs. ‘Where are you, Mimi?’ he asked. I marvelled his voice could sound so flat, so normal, especially as I knew how aroused he was.
‘Here,’ came the reply, quite close, only a couple more steps up from where we were standing, and I realised she was hidden from view around the corner. Gently, Scott sank onto a step, pulling me down with him, his presence reassuring in the almost total darkness. The icy marble was shocking against my bare legs and I shivered into my jacket, goose bumps sprinkling my flesh. After a brief pause, Mimi began to talk.
I quickly understood our role was to be silent listeners, only being called upon to interject occasional, quiet agreements as she rambled through her memories of her time with her husband and her short, too short, time with her daughter. We listened, were there for her. All the time I was achingly aware of him, could smell his aftershave, hear his calm even breathing, gradually inched my fingers across the stair until they collided with his.
For a while we sat, silently holding hands, giving Mimi our undivided attention as she talked and talked; voice slightly slurred and thick, as if she was drunk or drugged. I wondered if she’d taken a sleeping pill that evening.
Scott raised my hand to his mouth. In the darkness silently kissed my fingers, his tongue rasping into the palm of my hand, and I bit my lip to stop myself from sighing out loud. I felt for his other hand, so chilled from contact with the step it seemed almost damp, pressed his palm to my heart, trying to convey to him the depth of my feeling for him, attempting to tell him, without the need for words, that I loved him.
His fingers splayed between my breasts. Then he reached for my hand and mirrored my movement, pressing my hand to him, to where I could feel the thump of his heart. His hand crept to my face, tenderly, gently, he cupped my chin. My breath caught, desperately trying not to read too much into it, but wanting, oh so badly, for it to mean he loved me too. I reached for him, found his shoulder in the darkness, pulled him to me, quietly pressed kisses over his face and neck, felt his breath quicken. Wondered how much longer we’d have to wait before Mimi stopped and we could put her to bed, could go to my room and lock the door.
Suddenly, I became aware Mimi had stopped talking and pushed Scott away, turned my head to where I knew Mimi was in the darkness. ‘Mimi?’ I questioned, but there was no reply.
‘Mimi?’ Scott echoed. ‘Are you still with us?’ Again, there was nothing but silence and he murmured into the darkness. ‘I think she’s asleep.’
‘I think so,’ I agreed. ‘Maybe we should help her to bed.’
‘Yes, and then I think I’ll turn in too,’ he said, his voice so calm and logical I wanted to burst into hysterical giggles. ‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘I’ll go back down and switch on the lights.’
I stroked a hand down his thigh as he rose, heard the slight intake of breath and felt a rush of exhilarated anticipation, listening and laughing at his painstakingly slow progress downstairs, muttering curses under his breath as he misjudged the number and fell down the last two steps.
‘Are you alright?’ I called, smiled at his exasperated agreement. Finally, he reached the switches, turned the lights on. I closed my eyes against the sudden brightness, feeling a little of what Mimi meant when she claimed the light hurt her eyes.
I grinned through the banisters at Scott; then frowned in horrified disbelief.
A red handprint, smeared but quite distinct plastered across his chest.
Scarlet blotched his shoulder.
He stared back at me, an equally appalled expression on his face. I looked down. Blood, fresh, red and sticky, the large handprint stained my blouse, its vividness standing out obscenely on the sheer white silken fabric.
My hands were bloody, the marble steps on which we’d sat, splotched and splattered, a milky way of red. Following the pattern, my eyes turned upwards. I rose, stumbled up the stairs on hands and knees; barked my shins as I tripped and fell, followed the pattern around the corner and saw, but couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.
Mimi, slumped against the wall, face chalk white in stark comparison to the blood which dripped from her wrists, had left its trail down the stairs to the step where we’d sat: rose red against snow white marble.
The scream clawed its way out of my throat. Scott was running up the stairs, seeing what I was seeing, crying out in horror, rushing to Mimi, his foot kicking the small blade lying on the step beside her. It bounced and trembled, glinting in the blinding light.
‘Eve!’ he shouted, ‘Phone for an ambulance, quickly!’
I couldn’t move.
Her blood was on my han
ds, was indelibly printed over both our hearts, we were both soaked in it. My precious new love, tentatively unfolding from its shiny new bud of creation was spoilt, tainted, washed away in a sticky tide of red.
Chapter Nine
Luke
She lived, in that she did not die. But an essential part of Mimi passed away that evening. The part belonging to Andrew and Essie, that segment of her which loved, passionately and completely, was lost forever, drained away with her lifeblood, spilt down a marble staircase.
My memories of the evening are dim. The events leading up to the switching on of the lights remain sharply etched in my mind. But of the precise sequence of events after that point I am still, to this day, unclear. Miles and Ferdie arrived at the same time as the ambulance, I know. Followed it as it screamed through the park gates, exchanged glances of trepidation, wondering what latest catastrophe had befallen us.
I have a vague recollection of Scott, desperately ripping strips of his shirt off to bind her wrists, on which the wounds gaped like open mouths, red and raw. I couldn’t bear to look at them, was unable to look away.
I heard his voice, dim and distant, as he shouted at her to stay with us. He slapped her face, held her arms above her head. He shouted at me too, his face tight and alarmed. I could hear his concern for me, but couldn’t respond, was incapable of movement and sat, gripping the banisters, like a child afraid of monsters.
He gabbled an explanation at Miles and Ferdie as they crowded through the door, expressions horrified at the sight of Mimi on the stretcher, so pale, so small. Miles immediately insisted on going to hospital with her, his normally mild mannered tone becoming belligerent and unrelenting. He was going with her and that was that. In the end, both Scott and Miles went, leaving Ferdie to deal with me. Twittering with concern, he gently helped me to my room and into the bathroom. I saw myself in the mirror, the blood, her blood, daubed my face like a brand where Scott had held my chin. I choked on the thought, vomited up the memory.