by Paula Hawkes
Just as she walked past the entrance to the passage he reached out and grabbed her by the neck, surprising her so much that he was able to easily drag her into the alley. His fingers were iron on her throat, choking off any cry for help. He pressed her back against the house wall so she had nowhere to back away to, to relieve the pressure on her neck. He was strong enough to grip her with a single hand so with the other he reached around behind his back. Her eyes were bulging out of her head and her mouth open, as she desperately reached for air, not even a cough could escape. He could smell her fear, an exciting zest that riddled her cheap, sickly-sweet perfume with lustful aromas. Quick as fire he flashed the sharp blade across her smooth white neck. He saw her eyes register the comet-trail flash of the knife as it arced towards her neck and was pleased to note her sheer terror as death approached.
Her heels kicked against the wall of the house and prudency told him he would need to leave the scene very quickly. As the hot tide of blood flooded over his gloves he watched the life drain out of her and her eyes glaze. He leant forward and delicately kissed her forehead, while she was still just conscious enough to note this last benevolent act in her sordid life, a touch of gentleness and love at the end of such depravity. A kiss to send her on her way to judgment. Then he lowered her gently to the ground and swiftly ran back the way he had come. He stripped off the gloves but kept them for now. He would discard those in a safer place much later.
Chapter 31
As she lay in bed that night, China snuggled closely up to Philip’s naked body and the air conditioning was at just the right level to make that bearable without them both melting into puddles of sweat. She rested her head on his broad back, sighing.
“Enjoy today?” he asked.
“It was wonderful,” she said. Planting a delicate kiss on the nape of his neck. “I love you, Philip Dark.”
“And I love you too, China Dark.” He turned over to lie on his back and pull her head to rest on his chest. “You looked stunning today.”
She giggled. “Thank you, but you’re biased.”
“Well, yes. I am, that’s true. But I’m not the only one who thought you looked good.”
China smiled. She had noticed that too. All day she had been receiving admiring glances. She wasn’t deluded enough to believe she was classically beautiful, but she hoped that her newfound confidence and simple self awareness of how she looked in certain clothes, from certain angles and by giving a certain look, all went towards explaining this increased attention she was getting. She was discovering that confidence was an attractive quality to men. Always know where the camera lens is, Mark would have said. Imagine what it sees, and make sure it’s seeing something good.
China kissed Philip’s chest and gripped him even tighter.
“That man in the bar couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
“I still reckon he’s a prick.”
Philip laughed. “Maybe, but I don’t suppose he cares what anyone thinks of him. He must be loaded. That car!”
“Being rich doesn’t give you the right to be a prick.”
“Maybe not, but I bet he could have any woman he wanted.”
“Well not me,” she said. “I’m a one man woman.” She stroked Philip’s flat stomach and kissed his chest again, this time a little harder to emphasise her point. It worried her how easily the lie came, and she wondered sadly if her father had also lied so easily to her mother. Was her need for attention genetic? Was the capability of dealing with such a dual lifestyle also inherited? Or had she subliminally picked up on her parents’ relationship dynamics, building an inner model of what was normal, a model which had finally lured her into its strange and erotic world?
“That’s a shame,” Philip said, interrupting these deep deliberations. Not that again, she thought, afraid more of her own reaction to such easily validated temptations. The holiday had been so romantic so far, cementing her love for Philip and the true happiness in her marriage, allowing her the possibility of distancing herself from the alternative lifestyle that had drawn her into its clutches in recent days. In the last few weeks she had been concerned that her own behaviour, whether prompted by Philip or not, had been the result of some deep-seated and not fully understood unhappiness with her relationship with her husband. She had now started to convince herself that this was not the case, and was beginning to believe it was related more to her parents’ example. There was nothing wrong with her marriage and she loved Philip with all of her heart. The other ‘activities’ had been a mere distraction. She had hoped they were a minor transgression, as part of an exploration of new experiences and an exorcising of repressed demons, a necessary purging. She could readily accept that these were all essential elements on the path that led to where she was right now. A China Dark she was happy with, not beautiful but attractive, not arrogant but confident. With a rediscovered healthy sexual appetite and totally self-aware. She didn’t want to go back to the old China, the one that had existed prior to meeting Mark, but she was also scared and she didn’t know if she wanted to repeat the steep pathway that had brought her to this point. Exciting through that descent into sexual madness had been.
She stayed silent, hoping Philip would take the hint. He didn’t.
“He wanted you. Out of all of the women in that restaurant tonight, it was you he wanted.”
She suddenly wanted to slap him. Hard.
“We’re on holiday. If you wanted to..”
“I don’t,” she whispered loudly, not wanting to wake the whole hotel up, though she felt like screaming. This made her even more angry, having to repress the need to shout at Philip. She was sitting up now, looking angrily down at him. “I love you. God knows why. You can be so stupid. But I don’t want another man.”
As she said this her brain was in a spin. She wanted to shout with frustration. The first, full, blissful day of the holiday was ruined. Doubt swept through her again. True, when she thought about the stranger in the bar it did send a subtle quiver through her body and mind. He was just so… male, so gorgeous. An arrogant boy who needed taking down a peg or two, and it would be fun to do that she knew. Philip was infuriating but she loved him, even now in the midst of anger she knew that. And he had just sent her another not so subtle signal, one that at the start of this holiday she had hoped to see.
“I’m sorry, China,” Philip said, realizing he had spoiled the mood. He sat up and placed an arm around her cold shoulders, pulling her rigid body to his. “You know what I’m like. I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, you are.” She lay back down and tried to go to sleep, her back towards her husband.
Neither of them mentioned this conversation the next day, but there was a noticeable shadow hanging over them. All the right things were said, they still held hands as they wandered around a quaintly pretty and charmingly medieval local village, and they smiled and nodded at each other’s conversation as they ate their meals. China wondered if the atmosphere for the whole holiday was ruined. If it was to be saved she must do her part. She must overcome her disappointment with Philip at his raking up of old fantasies, just as she was sinking into the warm duvet of romantic bliss. She knew Philip would be eager for a more lasting reconciliation and that it was up to her to let him off the hook. She needed a drink.
They drank some Prosecco in their room while they prepared in near silence for the evening meal. China looked through her wardrobe a couple of times before settling on a flimsy dress in pastel shades that only just hid her lacy underwear. She liked the way it moved around her body. It felt so light that she had to keep checking it was there, and her slightest movement would send it into sprays of material waves. It made her want to move just to create the elusive dance of light and fabric that resulted. She had drunk a lot more of the bottle of wine than Philip had, and he was still in the doghouse. She did feel quite tipsy and more ready to either forgive Philip, or maybe blast him with some more anger. She wasn’t sure which it would be yet. He’d just have to wait. Either
way she was sure that she, at least, would enjoy it.
Chapter 32
Before their meal arrived China was about to reach across and clasp Philip’s hand and tell him that he could relax when there was a familiar roar from the car park. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Such perfect timing. As they did yesterday, all heads turned to see the rocket shaped car arrive and the handsome man make his grand entrance. He looked suitably and irritatingly satisfied with the response. Smug, was the immediate word that came to China’s mind.
Yet again he locked eyes with China and she defiantly returned his stare. She saw his eyes slowly assess her body, a lingering look that contained not one iota of embarrassment on his part. She wanted Philip to object, but he just sat there quietly opposite her. When she turned to look at him, willing him to say something, to tell the arrogant bastard to stop staring at his wife, she could see she was wasting her time. Philip’s eyes flicked backward and forward between the car and the man. She wasn’t sure which one he was in love with more. All of last night’s frustration flooded back, and she started to seethe.
“Let’s see how you really like it then,” she said between clenched teeth, throwing her white linen napkin onto the table and taking her wine glass to the bar. She stood next to the man, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her while she walked haughtily, and quite elegantly she believed, across the dining room floor.
“Have you quite finished staring at me?” she asked the man. She almost faltered as she saw his eyes up close for the first time. They were hazel, flecked with coffee and chocolate shades, and with highlights of flecked gold. Too light for his olive skin, she thought, but she couldn’t deny the hypnotic effect. As she stood close to him she could smell lemons, herbs and expensive leather.
His Italian accent instantly melted her heart. “Not quite. I may never finish.”
She glanced nervously back and saw to her horror that the whole restaurant were watching them. A few of the guests looked over at Philip to see his reaction, but his face was impossible to read. He was intently studying what his wife was doing, neither smiling nor frowning. Just watching.
“Well, it’s very rude,” she said turning back to him.
“A real man should not send his wife over to do his dirty work. If he wanted me to stop staring at his wife, why wouldn’t he tell me himself?”
“He doesn’t want you to stop staring. I do.”
“In which case I apologise,” he said. Instantly the arrogance left his face and it softened into pure handsomeness. His eyes sparkled, almost magically, golden fireflies in liquid caramel. “We have got off on the wrong foot. My fault. I am a natural show off I’m afraid. I am Leandro.” He held out a slender hand which she took and shook once, not caring about the open mouths and staring eyes from the surrounding tables. His elegantly manicured fingers held her and she was surprised that his hands were actually quite rough in texture. His eyes asked the question before he finally did. “And your name?”
“I’m China,” she said confidently, relishing the sound of her own name and the impact its uniqueness had on others. His eyes smiled as he heard the name.
“Indeed,” he said, still holding her hand. “Very pleased to meet you. I would buy you a proper drink.” He waved dismissively at the wine in her hand. He spoke to the waiter in quick Italian, who scuttled off and came back after a few moments with a bottle of champagne. China realized that Leandro was still holding her hand so she quickly withdrew it.
Carefully studying the label on the bottle, Leandro nodded. “A Boërl & Kroff ninety-six,” he told her. “My favourite. I thought a rosé would be preferred.”
The delicate pink glass of bubbles was divine. She was not enough of a connoisseur to know anything much about champagne vintages but she knew what she liked and she liked this a lot. “It’s nice,” she said.
Leandro grimaced slightly and raised his eyebrows in an almost comical way. “Nice?” he said, his eyes glimmering with a certain menace that China actually found very exciting. “One of the most expensive champagnes in the world, and one of the best vintages of that champagne. Is nice.” He nodded and sighed.
Feeling defensive, China injected her response with more spike than was really needed, given that this handsome Italian had just treated her to the most expensive drink she had ever had. “We can’t all afford to drink this every day. Or drive stupidly expensive toys.”
His laughter was like a song. An Italian crooner’s laugh. A rat-pack laugh. Rich and full of charm. “Bravo, China. It is, indeed, a toy. But a rather fun one. Maybe you would like a ride on my toy.”
“I think you mean ‘in your toy’,” she answered, but maybe he was being lascivious. She flushed pinker than the champagne. “No thank you. I don’t get into cars with strange men.”
“I am no stranger. You know my name. I know yours. We are sharing a rather ‘nice’ drink. And it appears I have your husband’s approval.”
At the mention of Philip, she looked guiltily over at her husband, suddenly remembering for the first time that he was even in the same room. He was still watching them closely, and there appeared to be a slight smile playing around his lips and a dreamy look in his eyes. The other patrons of the restaurant had now politely turned their attention away, but she caught a couple of them stealing glances at the charade playing out at the bar.
“I still don’t want to get in that thing. It’s really quite ugly.” She couldn’t work out the attraction with the car. With most cars really. She had to admit that a few were nice to look at, an Aston Martin maybe, or a Jaguar, but the extended Italian penises that most men lusted over did nothing for her. She flushed red again as the thought of Italian penises raced through her mind. Her newly liberated imagination exasperated her sometimes, especially as she still hadn’t learnt to fully control her blush reflex yet.
Leandro shrugged acceptance of her verdict and gulped his drink down. He poured himself another glass and topped up China, who was surprised to notice that she had drunk most of the first glass already.
“So tell me China, why does your husband let you talk to strange men in bars?” There was a teasing smile on his face as he asked the question.
“He has no choice,” she said. It was a part truth at least. “I do what I want and he just has to put up with it.” Now wasn’t the time to be sharing the intimate details of her husband’s fantasies. And for some reason, she felt as if she wanted to, no needed to, come across as fully in control with this man. Something told her that she dare not show him any sign of weakness.
Leandro laughed again, shaking his thick black locks. “I like you China. I like you a lot. You are a woman after my own heart.”
She smiled at him, enjoying the flirting. She leaned in close. “Besides,” she whispered. “A woman sometimes needs a change.” She could see Philip desperately trying to listen in on their conversation.
“Ha,” Leandro said. “So I am a distraction. An amuse bouche. A palette cleanser between familiar dishes.”
“If you’re lucky, you may be.” She was already being more forward than she was fully comfortable with. She scolded herself. There was no point in being too easy. She wondered if Philip was regretting his earlier comments now. That old adage, be careful what you wish for, might well be ringing in his head. The only way to slay this particular demon was to play this act through to its natural conclusion and then hopefully Philip would let it go. He would soon realise his mistake in wanting his fantasies made reality. She had no doubt he would forgive her, he had no choice really given that he had ‘pushed’ her into this. She was briefly concerned with the thought that it didn’t take much pushing on his part, but her lack of reluctance was beside the point. If she went through with this tonight, the first time of being unfaithful with Philip’s full knowledge, she suspected that a few tears might result but that Philip would come to his senses and their marriage could resume the more romantic nature which had been enough for them both before.
By the time they had fin
ished the bottle of pink champagne, Leandro and China were talking comfortably. She now knew that he came from a poor background in a village in Southern Italy, near Naples, but had moved to Rome when sixteen and there he had made his fortune through many diverse business deals. He was reticent on the exact details, but there were enough hints in the conversation that some of them may have been rather less than fully legitimate. He was staying in this hotel as it was one of his favourites in the region. Whenever he needed a break from his busy lifestyle, he would come here to relax. It was his retreat. His parents had long since died, but he seemed ok with that so she suspected that the relationship had not been particularly good. He had no other relatives that he shared details of with her. She didn’t need telling, but he told her anyway, that he liked the good things in life that only large amounts of money could buy. He admitted, again unnecessarily, to an immature liking for ostentatious displays of his wealth, and she deduced that this was a reaction to his destitute past, a denial of the shame of his background and, at the same time, a brazen announcement to the world that he had succeeded in digging himself out of the mire of poverty.
She pondered on the fact that she already knew far more about Leandro, from less than an hour’s conversation, than she did about the ever mysterious Mark. The fact that she had hardly thought of Mark since arriving in Italy secured in her mind the fact that Mark had been a lot of fun but little more. She was grateful that he had shepherded her quite skilfully through the opening of her eyes to a new and more stimulating world, but she did not, and never would, look upon him with anything more than lustful affection.
Leandro knew very little about China as he didn’t ask her much after the first few questions. He seemed much happier talking about himself, which suited China just fine. He was not going to be a part of her life for long. Probably just this evening. So she was happy that he was not interested in the details of her world, as he would have no part in it after tonight. He was just a vehicle to boost her over this particular hurdle. Philip would be taught a lesson, and this handsome dark man would leave the classroom. End of lecture.