She grinned happily. ‘You’ll never believe it, but I found out that the cook is from the same little village in Devon that I’m from. Fancy that! I’ve been in the kitchen having a good old chinwag with her all this while. It was fun. She’s so nice. She opened a bottle of sloe berry vodka that she made herself and we had a few glasses. Phew! Potent stuff.’
‘I can see that.’
‘Right. The floor keeps tilting. I guess I ought to go to bed.’
I went to my bag and pushed out two tabs of headache tablets and dropped them into her palm. ‘Life won’t be worth it tomorrow morning if you don’t take these right away.’
She smiled dreamily. ‘You really are such a Prince Charming.’
I opened the connecting door.
‘See you at breakfast,’ she said and stumbled through the open doorway. I closed it and the cupboard door opened.
Daphne stepped out coolly as if hiding in cupboards was a thing she did every day. She walked up to me. ‘She’s quite right. You are quite the prince,’ she said, unzipping her dress and letting it slide to the floor. In that chilly room she stood as naked as the day she was born. I’ll admit she had a good body, a very good body.
She curved one corner of her lip invitingly and very deliberately began to walk toward me. I had the impression she could have been a good lay. Energetic and probably insatiable, but there was something viperish about her that made me think I’d live to regret any time spent in her pussy.
How did one politely reject a Sloane Ranger with a trust fund in the Bahamas? A vindictive one at that. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. There was a knock on the door and Lady Daphne became a flash of pale skin as she raced to her dress, picked it up and returned to the cupboard.
This was fast becoming a comical farce. I opened the door and Olivia was standing there in her coat.
She smiled. ‘Get your jacket on and come with me. I want to show you something.’
‘You make it sound dangerous,’ I said.
‘I’ll keep you safe,’ she said, with a smile.
‘Ah, but who will keep you safe?’
She blushed and I realized that I must have drunk far more than I thought. I was flirting with her! Every sober cell in my brain knew I shouldn’t go with her. It wasn’t prudent. But the alcohol was suddenly racing powerfully in my veins. I was surrounded by that horrid smell of her perfume that had actually started to grow on me and I fucking wanted to be with her.
Oh fuck it.
15
Marlow
I pulled my jacket from the sofa back and shrugging into the coat went out into the corridor to Olivia. A few steps down the corridor I turned to her.
‘Can you hang on here for just a sec? Got to sort something out. I’ll be real fast.’
‘All right,’ she said, looking up at me with soft eyes.
I turned around and went back into my room. There was no polite way to do this. I closed the door, strode to my wardrobe and yanked it open abruptly. Daphne was standing inside clutching her dress against her body. She blinked up at me in surprise. Exactly the reaction I had hoped to achieve—disorientate her conscious mind. I reached in and took her left wrist in my right hand.
‘Keep your arm soft,’ I instructed, fixing my eyes on hers.
Taken by surprise she obliged immediately. I raised my other hand higher than her eye level so her confused eyes would automatically have to follow, and travel upwards. Smoothly I moved my hand toward her face knowing it would cause her to instinctively sway back slightly, an action that should have also brought on a mild sensation of dizziness.
It happened quickly after that.
My hand reached her forehead and I began to stroke it, creating both bewilderment and a rush of feel-good serotonin into her brain. As her eyeballs began to invert, I firmly issued the order, ‘Sleep.’
Her head lolled back just as I curled one hand around the back of her neck while my other caught her limp body as it slid downwards. Carefully, I leaned her against the back of the cupboard.
When you see those TV evangelists dropping people in waves, this together with sleight of hand is the procedure they are employing. Called the rapid induction method it can be done with an arm pull, a handshake, or even by just following the hand movements of an expert stage hypnotist. The effects are impressive, but they don’t last long. They were, however, sufficient for my needs.
‘Can you hear me, Daphne?’ I asked.
She nodded slowly.
‘Good. You will remain standing solidly on your feet for one minute. Then you will wake up feeling sleepy, get dressed, and immediately go to your room where you will fall into a deep and restful sleep. You will not ever remember being here or conversing with me.’
I left the cupboard doors open and went out of the room to join Olivia in the corridor.
‘Ready?’ she whispered.
‘Yeah, ready.’ A thrill of excitement coursed through my veins. We were both castaway people on a midnight adventure.
Silently we journeyed through deserted corridors and down an uncarpeted, wooden staircase at the back, which, I assumed, must be the servants’ staircase. We passed bare walls and plain tiles, a stark difference to the opulence and luxury we had come from. Then we crossed a large kitchen, dark and still and very clean, and then we were out into the night air. A cold wind blew at us. We rounded the corner and we were at the side of a large Victorian conservatory.
She turned around to me, her eyes shining in the dark. ‘We could have gone in through the house, but I much prefer this entrance.’
She opened the door and we entered the most beautiful garden I had ever seen. I mean, I’m not into plants in any shape or form, but this one had to be seen. Milky moonlight was flooding in through the windows and turning the interior into a hauntingly beautiful garden.
In fact, I had the impression of a secret forest. There must have been hundreds of plants in there—they grew up the walls, hung from the ceilings and covered all available spaces that had not been designated as paths for walking on or a small patch where there was a small metal table and a canopied swing seat. Ferns tickled my legs.
I rubbed my hands together. It was actually warm in there, the atmosphere a little bit foggy and redolent with the smell of earth moss. The gentle sound of water dripping was soothing.
She flicked a light switch and clusters of round white lamps came on and threw their diffused light on the plants, walls, the geometrically patterned floor and on her beautiful face.
‘Isn’t it perfect?’
‘Yes. It reminds me of a place of worship, like a chapel—cool, dark, quiet.’
She looked at me, surprised. ‘You go to church?’
‘I was an altar boy when I was a kid, but I’ve given up God.’
‘What happened?’
I didn’t tell her about my children screaming, then burning to their deaths just yards away from me, about the little shoe that dropped close to me as if straight from the sky.
‘The real truth is,’ I said carefully, ‘I could not have resisted Christianity if the story had ended with, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” But the happy ending made it less interesting.’
She frowned. ‘That’s rather morbid.’
‘You think so?’ I shrugged. ‘It’s the real condition of humanity. Our lives are ones of pure abandonment. Somewhere trampling through the universe are trillions of unanswered prayers still looking for God.’
She touched the edge of a green ceramic pot and ran her finger, the nail pearlescent in the glow from the lamps, along the ridge. ‘I like the idea of God. Someone to turn to when things get really bad.’
‘Yeah, it’s a nice thought,’ I conceded.
‘But it was this place that saved me. When I first came out of hospital I was like a caged creature. Every day I paced the confines of my cage and came upon bars in exactly the same place, and unable to realize why I could go no farther.’
She looked around her.
‘But one day
Ivana wheeled me in here and I found it so peaceful and soothing that I wanted to spend more and more time here. And then I began to realize that I could make it more beautiful. There were not so many plants here then and I set about redesigning everything. Now this is where I spend most of my time. When you have your hands in dirt you don’t think. You become a part of the earth.’
I stared at her. God! She was heartbreakingly beautiful. Her little face lit up about a bunch of plants. It was impossible to imagine her in a sex club. I remembered the heady, drug-like feel and the taste of her. And how fantastically our bodies had come together and lust boiled my blood. I was on dangerous ground. Very dangerous ground. What the hell was I thinking of coming here alone with her?
‘It’s just a little thing,’ she was saying softly, totally unaware of how she was affecting me, ‘but it makes me happy and I wanted you to see it.’ She clasped her arms, like a child waiting for my approval.
Hell, Lady Olivia, my approval was a done deal from the moment you walked into my office.
I knew I should get out of that place. It was too closed. Here she was too much of a temptation. I had a fantasy about her. I wanted to see my cock in her mouth. In my fantasy she struggled to fit it all in. I felt my body start heating up. I needed to get the fuck out now. This was where the rubber met the road.
‘Thanks for showing it to me. It’s beautiful. But I should get back.’
‘Wait,’ she cried softly, and took my hand.
She pulled me to a pool. Goldfish swam in pale circles.
‘Daphne says it’s a bit bourgeois to have fish, but I like them.’ She bent down to lean against the pool’s edge and her dress seemed stretched around her boyish hips. Unwanted thoughts of my cock slowly disappearing into her body rushed into my mind. Without any warning my erection bulged painfully against my zipper. Fuck. This was nuts. I was venturing into impossible territory. I wanted her so bad she was going to smell it on my breath.
I needed to get back to my room, like now. Blissfully unaware of what was going on in my mind and body she pointed to some cast iron columns.
‘See that there? That is a Victorian rainwater collection system. It’s really clever. It diverts the water from the glass roof into an underground storage tank.’
I stared at the columns feeling almost overwhelmed by the force of my desire for her.
‘I should go.’ My voice sounded thick and strained.
‘Why?’
I looked at her beautiful face, with its large, shining eyes upturned to me, and that delicious mouth slightly parted.
‘I think we both know it’s for the best.’
‘Why is it?’
‘We’ve been through this before, but it would also be very unprofessional of me to become partial.’
‘Is that the only reason?’
I sighed heavily.
‘But you want to…’ She let her voice trail.
I felt suddenly angry. ‘For fuck’s sake, Olivia, what the hell do you want from me? I’m holding on by my fingernails here.’
She smiled, a shy, pleased quirk to her mouth. ‘I’m glad to hear that.’
‘Goodnight, Olivia.’
‘Dr. Kane?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I thought you were impeccably uncivil at the dinner table.’
I jammed my fists into my trouser pockets. ‘Ah, the Beryl episode.’
‘Of course, you realize you’ll never be invited back again,’ she said with a smile.
‘Oh bugger.’
She giggled. ‘It sounds funny when you say it.’
‘Sleep well, Olivia.’
‘Goodnight, Dr. Kane.’
I turned around and left her among her plants. A mysterious nymph who would haunt my dreams that night.
16
Olivia
My sister telephoned. ‘Shall we go for some cold fish?’ she asked.
I laughed, happy those words sounded familiar. They had come from behind the veil. I did not know in what context, when or where she had said them to me before, but I knew she had. That was how she described Japanese food. ‘Why? Are you on a diet?’ I asked.
‘A bit,’ she admitted.
We agreed to meet for lunch at Nobo in Mayfair.
I arrived early so I ordered a glass of pale cream sherry and waited for her upstairs. She breezed in looking very Sloaney in a vintage Hardy Amis pantsuit and camel hair coat. I smiled and gave a little wave as she approached.
‘Traffic was a nightmare,’ she complained as she plonked down her Gucci tote, took off her coat and dropped it carelessly on the seat next to me. Elegantly she eased herself into our banquette and turned to me with a flick of her head. ‘You look well. Are you off somewhere nice?’
‘No, I’m going home after this.’
She lifted a languid finger at a passing waiter and he made for her, smiling. He obviously knew her.
‘I’ll have whatever she’s having,’ she told him and he disappeared with a deferential nod. That was the thing about my half-sister. She was like her mother—no matter where she went, she immediately and effortlessly commanded fawning respect. She was so different when I first met her after my amnesia it surprised me we even shared the same gene pool.
I took a sip of my drink. When she turned toward me, I said, ‘I saw Maurice the other day.’ Maurice was a friend of hers.
‘Really? Where?’
‘At the butcher.’
‘How is he?’
‘Still reeling from his divorce, I dare say. He asked after you.’
‘Did he? I wonder why. He’s a blithering idiot,’ she dismissed callously.
The waiter came with her glass of sherry and we placed our orders.
She turned to me resolutely. ‘So how are the sessions with the hypnotist coming on?’
I shrugged. ‘All right, I suppose.’
‘What on earth does that mean? Have you or haven’t you remembered anything yet?’
I shifted uncomfortably. ‘A bit.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘What, exactly?’
‘Well, I remembered a few occasions. The birthday party when I was five, my mother telling Daddy she had cancer. Oh and I remembered finding Jacobi in bed at fifteen with his hardcore German transsexual magazines.’
We grinned at each other.
‘Well,’ she said with a mischievous look. ‘He’s a screaming transvestite now.’
‘What?’ I exclaimed.
‘Yes,’ she confirmed briefly and suddenly changed the subject. ‘What else have you remembered?’
‘The other memories are unimportant little pieces of the big puzzle.’
‘That’s it? Unimportant little pieces of the big puzzle. At his prices?’
I colored. ‘We are making progress, but Dr. Kane is cautious so there is no question of false memories occurring.’
She stared at me. ‘I can’t imagine there are any buried memories, can you?’
‘I don’t know. I do have the odd unsettling dream.’
‘What kind of unsettling dream?’
I bit my lip. ‘Just strange things that don’t make sense.’
She laughed. ‘Dreams are not supposed to make sense. You should see what mine are like. That’s no excuse for dragging out your…treatment.’
That tiny pause was meant to tell me she did not think much of my treatment. ‘He’s not dragging out my treatment. He’s just being cautious. He thinks I could be damaged if the process is not done properly.’
She looked at me in a non-committal way. ‘Like what happened to his wife?’
He was married! I gazed at her in shock. ‘His wife?’ I croaked, feeling such a fool.
She leaned forward, her eyes shining with some emotion that I could not figure out. ‘Yes, didn’t you know? She committed suicide in the most horrendous way. Locked herself inside her car in a Starbucks car park with their two children and a few gas tanks and pulled the pin off a grenade. From what I understand the children were just babies.’
>
The world tilted to an unnatural angle and my mouth dropped open with horror. ‘What?’
At that moment the food arrived and Daphne transferred her attention from me to the two waitresses who were standing by us.
I shut my mouth with a snap. My order of rock shrimp tempura was carefully placed in front of me, and a platter of iced Kumamoto oysters topped with caviar, and a trio of Nobu sauces on the side, was set in front of Daphne. I stared at my food blankly. When I raised my head Daphne was smiling at me.
‘Did you remember that you always have the tempura here?’ she asked.
Again I felt the rug pulled out from under my feet. I had no memory of ever ordering tempura. In fact, I couldn’t remember ever coming to this restaurant. ‘Did I?’ I asked.
‘Yes, always,’ she confirmed merrily as she picked up an oyster, expertly detached it from its shell, and delicately swallowed it. She pulled a face. ‘The caviar is not very good.’
I picked up my knife and fork in an effort to be casual. ‘Daphne, you were telling me about Dr. Kane.’
‘Yes, it was a terrific shame. He had to leave the States in disgrace. Completely ruined his career.’
‘Why?’ I whispered.
‘I gather she had planned it so he would see them all burn. Eye witnesses said she looked directly at him and smiled.’ She shuddered. ‘It was one of those revenge suicides.’
‘How absolutely awful.’
She helped herself to another oyster. ‘Yes, ghastly. Especially when you take into account that he had treated her with some experimental new method he pioneered and helped her recover memories of childhood sexual abuse.’ She dabbed her mouth and took a slow sip of wine. ‘I expect he had ruined her and she hated him and wanted him to know that he had. And she took the children with her so he wouldn’t be able to do the same with them.’
My mind went blank with dismay. ‘How absolutely awful,’ I repeated stupidly.
‘Probably why he wants to take it slow with you. He’s afraid that history might repeat itself.’
I leaned back, my appetite gone, and looked through the full-height windows at Hyde Park. ‘I’m not suicidal.’ I brought my gaze back to her. ‘Am I?’
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