Some Like it Hot

by Amanda Brobyn

  Those people were no longer members of the prestigious marina and Will was glad. He hated the lack of respect some people had for their sport. Sailing was an elegant, sophisticated sport and its pleasure was there for the taking and for the giving.

  Will loved the feel of the wind belting against his face as he raced for pole position. The thrill of danger as the boat heaved to the side with such velocity that were he not strapped on he would be a man overboard. Those moves, although dangerous, were also necessary if they were to turn and dip with great speed. But most importantly, Will loved the teamwork it took to man the yacht – which was unhierarchical. No man was better than the next when you raced, the same thread ran through each of them binding them together as tightly as the sail held onto its mast.

  Sophie couldn’t wait to get the party started although she sensed something was wrong with Kath but she knew that a greedy dose of the good stuff might cheer her up – or open her up – perhaps allowing her to talk about what it was which was so clearly bothering her.

  Jude too didn’t seem her usual self. That light which had burned with an intense flame now flickered low. Sophie sensed that it must be a personal issue because Clive was full of the joys of spring – literally – as he steered his prize posession into the calm open waters before shutting down the engine of The Trophy.

  “What’s up, Kath?” Sophie asked.

  The women had separated from the men. It wasn’t a planned meeting but they’d each been drawn to their own sex like a gender-magnet had pulled them apart, avoiding the temptation which came from the close proximity of two sexes confined in a small space.

  “Yeah, you don’t seem yourself today.” Helena stroked her hand.

  Kath bit her lip and forced herself to hold it together.

  “We had a bit of trouble with our Jason . . . last night . . . down at the station,” she told them. She was embarassed but she knew she needed to talk about it.

  She glanced at James laughing away, a can in one hand and a canapé in the other. She wished she could shake the sadness off so quickly but being a mother was different to being a father. She had a nine-month advantage over him.

  “He got roped into keeping a lookout for what he thought was a prank at the cricket clubhouse but the little sods burgled the place and the police don’t believe Jason’s side of the story.”

  “What’s going to happen to him then, Kath?” Sophie was keen to know.

  “I don’t know, Soph. It’s up to the clubhouse to decide if they want to press charges.” She polished off the pink champagne. “They got the money back so they might drop them.”

  A sigh of relief came from Helena’s direction and Kath was grateful for her empathy.

  “Where was the money found?” Sophie asked.

  “Apparently one of them dropped it when they heard sirens but the lads are saying it was Jason who dropped it . . . not them. It’s their word against his but the clubhouse has the last say and we’re just waiting to hear.” Kath twisted her empty glass in her hands, watching as it spun around and around. “Do you mind if we talk about something else? I really want to use today to take my mind off things . . . although just telling you guys has lightened the load. Thanks for listening.”

  “That’s what we’re here for,” said Jude. She filled Kath’s glass dangerously high, grinning as she did so. “All it will take is a little undercurrent, Kath, and you might spill that when the boat rocks. You’d better drink it up fast.”

  Kath grinned at Jude. She knew that Jude was trying to cheer her up by getting her drunk on her favourite pink fizz and it was working. She could feel it working like a non-prescription relaxant.

  “The boat has already rocked, Jude. It’s capsized in fact.”

  Jude laughed heartily. “You know what I love about you, Kath?”

  “Everything?”

  “The fact that even when you’re rock bottom you still manage to hold on to your sense of humour.”

  Jude slapped her hard on the back. The full-on affection thudded against Kath’s ribs and she jolted forward, her champagne glass wobbling in her hands as she clutched at its stem.

  “Sorry!” Jude shrieked as she raced to fetch the mop. Spillages meant falls and falls meant insurance claims. Clive had her well trained.

  “Where is it?”

  Kath looked at Jude blankly. “Where is what?”

  “The spilled drink?”

  Kath chortled away as she watched Jude’s eyes scour the floor for the pink fizzy liquid. “I’d already knocked it back, Jude. I thought I saw a huge wave in the distance so I played it safe,” she told her nonchalantly. “By the time you’d hit me it was gone!”

  Jude was amazed. Kath’s body on the outside was impeccable, a glowing picture of health, but she dreaded to think what state her liver was in. Kath might as well throw her donor card overboard. It was going to be as useless as her wet signature.

  “Ladies.” Will approached them with a chilled bottle of Laurent-Perrier Rosé wrapped in a white linen napkin. “We gentleman were wondering if we could join in your game?”

  “Which game is that, Will?” Jude was puzzled.

  “Strip poker?” Sophie asked innocently.

  “The Curry something?” Will chose to ignore Sophie’s flirtatious comment. He didn’t know how to handle her yet but he was up for it if she was.

  Roni looked unsure until she caught Peter’s eye. He smiled at her like it was their first encounter and her heart fluttered with joy before sinking to the pits as she remembered the passionate embrace with Darren.

  “It’s called the Curry Club . . . but we only play it during the week, Will,” Sophie announced. “We’ve nothing planned and it has to be organised for it to work anonymously. Perhaps we had better stick to strip poker.”

  Will took in the words which left the red bee-stung lips. He kept his eyes away from her breasts which he had already glanced at once or twice – when he thought it was safe.

  “Suits me, but I’m not sure those prudes would be up for it!” Will laughed. “We’ve all heard so much about the Curry Club that we’d love to play it if you would allow us? Perhaps another time then?”

  “I suppose we could play it again – but not for real – just for a bit of fun?” Helena offered as she looked at her friends one by one.

  “Okay.”

  “Fine by me.

  “Great.”

  Sophie linked her arm in his and led him to the eight-berth cabin below, clutching at the handrail to stop herself wobbling from side to side. The wind had picked up a little and The Trophy rocked gently, swept along with the incline of the breeze.

  Will wished he had fled down the steps before her. The view would have been to die for.

  “I’ll explain the rules to you and you can explain it to the others. Okay?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  He grinned at her with his wide mouth. The deep-rooted wrinkles under his eyes scrunched together as his mouth pushed them up. His tanned face had been exposed to much outdoor weather and it showed.

  “Don’t call me ‘boss’,” Sophie groaned. “I feel like I’m back at work.”

  She sat down on one of the two fabric benches which also doubled as beds and Will squeezed in beside her, eager to hear more.

  “What do you do, Sophie, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not at all. I’m a hairdresser,” she told him proudly. “I own Kane’n’Able on the High Street and am just about to open another salon in Alderley Avenue.”

  Will’s forehead contorted. A few seconds later his eyes were wide with realisation.

  “Two-year lease, option to buy at the end?”

  Sophie frowned at him, nodding at the same time.

  “That’s right,” she answered in amazement.

  “I think that might be my property you’re leasing.” Will was shocked. “How weird is that? I knew it was a hair salon that had taken over from the previous tenants but how incredible it would be if it’s you! It must hav
e been meant to be.”

  He looked delighted at the prospect of having an excuse to see her again. He might keep the property-management company away from this agreement, take care of it himself.

  “Funny, Clive didn’t mention it was one of Jude’s friends when I told him about letting it out to a hair salon. He’d already advised me to sell it, you see, but I’m not sure the timing is right . . . hence the two-year lease decision. Does he know it’s you, Sophie? He probably didn’t put the two together. Let’s face it, it could be any salon really, couldn’t it?”

  “No offense, Will, but not any salon could afford the rent and rates of Alderley Avenue,” Sophie replied. “But Clive knows it’s me, he drafted the contracts up a few months back.”

  “Weird. It must have slipped his mind.”

  Will rarely met his tenants, had no need to. They dealt directly with his letting agent who looked after everything to do with the leasing arrangements and all aspects of property management. All he knew was that he received his income, less a hefty deduction for their services at the end of each month.

  “Small world,” Sophie said slowly as she processed just who it was she was dealing with. You never knew when you needed to call in a favour. “So where else do you have properties, Will?”

  Sophie was keen to expand her enterprise, and acquistion of the best premises in all the key locations was vital to her success.

  She edged a little closer to him.

  He smelt her recognisable perfume – Vera Wang – he had bought it for his PA at Christmas time. He looked at Sophie, taking in her petite frame, perfectly tanned and perfectly toned. She was so hot she was almost on fire and he could think of nothing else but diving into the cold waters to put his own flames out. If he had to take her down with him, then so be it.

  Roni was glad when she saw Sophie’s head pop up from the lower deck. She was in need of distraction and it seemed the more she drank, the more guilty she felt. At that moment, she would have preferred the harsh words from Sophie’s mouth compared with the gut-wrenching stabs which penetrated her insides.

  Will followed Sophie up the narrow wooden steps, pretending to be a gentlemen and avert his gaze, but he looked alright – stared in fact. He saw the white creases under her pert bottom where the sun had failed to tan. He saw the thin line of black string which tried to cover her private area and he watched the muscles on her inner thighs tense with every step taken as her slight weight was placed on each step.

  Will wasn’t sure how long he could cope with the closeness of Jude’s friend. It wasn’t fair her being on board, not just to him but to all the men there.

  “Jude!” Sophie yelled. “Here a sec!”

  Jude left Tom and headed starboard towards Sophie who was perched next to Roni on a slatted wooden bench.

  “Did you know Will owns my shop on Alderley Avenue?”

  Jude was gobsmacked. “No way! How strange is that?”

  Roni’s head turned from side to side as she watched the exchange of excitement. “Don’t you mean his shop?” she corrected.

  “Surely Clive must have known that Will owned it when he did the contracts for me?” Sophie said thoughtfully. “Maybe he felt it better not to say that he knew the property owner, I guess? Conflict of interest and all that.” Sophie chewed the inside of her mouth. “Really, he should have given the contracts to someone else to do if he knew us both . . . I’m not sure that was a good move of his actually.”

  Jude sat down opposite, perching herself on a hard plastic storage-box where Clive kept his fishing gear.

  “Clive did the contracts for you . . . for Alderley Avenue?”

  “Yes, although when I decided I was going to ask you to be the designer, I took yours to another solicitor to avoid any domestic issues.” Sophie wriggled with discomfort. The seat had no cushion and it was rock hard against her unpadded bottom.

  “But he did all the others?”

  Roni paled and her hand flew up to her mouth.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Was this early March time, erm, by chance?”

  Sophie nodded.

  “Were you two in The Archers together?”

  “Yes.” Sophie wondered where on earth Roni was going with this conversation but Roni’s extreme uneasiness had demanded her attention.

  Roni’s neck went red and blotchy as she spoke.

  “I am so sorry . . . so very very sorry . . . to both of you.” Roni couldn’t look at them. “It – it was me who put in the question about ‘shagging’ someone’s husband . . .” She whispered as she said the words, biting her bottom lip. “I saw the two of you together, you were leaning into him looking so relaxed, Sophie, and I assumed that –”

  Sophie bolted from the bench, standing tall over Roni. A raging anger burned inside her but she knew the time was not right to let it out.

  “You assumed that I can’t be with a man without shagging him, Roni?” she whispered back in a choleric tone. “What the frigging hell do you take me for? Okay, so I’ve done some things . . . more things than I should have, but Jude is my friend, one of my best friends.”

  Sophie spun around to face the waters. Her eyes welled with the injustice of it all and she fought with all her might to repress her emotions. Sophie Kane didn’t cry. Yes, she was a loose woman and, yes, she enjoyed a little sexual activity, a lot maybe, but for Roni to think she would do that to her own friend was a shock to her system. Is this what people thought of her? A slut? A husband-grabber? A girl who charged for sexual favours?

  Roni and Jude flew to her side, each of them linking their arms in hers. One she wanted, the other she didn’t.

  “I’m sorry, Sophie. I truly am, please forgive me?” Roni’s face was scarlet and the red blotches had worsened, spreading down towards her plumped-up chest. “You’ve always said that if something is bothering us then it needs to be discussed through the Curry Club.” She had adopted a fake jovial tone. “Well, that was disturbing me for ages and I didn’t want to say anything to Jude so I thought that raising it would scare you into stopping something you might regret.”

  Jude looked uncomfortable hearing Roni admit that she wouldn’t tell her if Clive was having an affair.

  “Let’s look on the bright side of this, Sophie. I guess we should be pleased that we finally got to the bottom of that one.” Jude spoke candidly but her undertone was one of uneasiness. “I know it won’t help the way you feel right now . . . but at least Roni has owned up to it. That must have taken a lot of guts.”

  Yes, and those were the guts that Sophie wanted to punch at that very moment, she thought, clenching her fists.

  Roni smiled a half smile at Jude, but she was too embarrassed to look at her for long. True, it had taken some strength but when she was wrong, she was wrong and there was no point hiding it.

  “I wonder why Clive didn’t tell me about the contracts?” Jude changed the subject.

  Sophie wiped her eyes, cursing at the sight of black mascara on her hand. She hadn’t let the tears fall but they had leaked onto her bottom lashes and she would need to fix herself quickly. She was more furious at herself for getting upset than she was at Roni for her admission or at Jude for not laughing at the hilarity of the situation. She had waited for her friend to rush to her defence, throw her head back and laugh at Roni’s insane imagination, but she hadn’t.

  How the hell Roni thought her capable of sleeping with her friend’s husband was beyond her.

  Sophie Kane was risking the design of her new salon by using someone who had been out of the game for a decade and a half. She had put her position in the Curry Club at risk in order to make her friend see that life was there for the taking. She would have walked on water for Jude if she had to.

  “I told him not to tell you,” Sophie spoke in a hushed tone. “I told him I was going to offer you the job so he had to keep it quiet until I’d had the pleasure of asking you officially. I thought that if he mentioned anything to you then there’d be a chance he’d slip up. Y
ou know what men are like!”

  It was Jude’s turn to pale. She removed her arm from Sophie’s and swung around to look where Clive was sitting, laughing and joking without a care in the world. He looked more like his old self today.

  “You mean he knew the job was mine?” Jude’s hands flew to her hips. “Did you not think to say it to me, Sophie? All along I’d been keeping it from him until the timing was right and yet you knew that he already knew. You could have put me out of my misery long ago . . . and stopped me from lying to my husband.” Jude was upset. She felt betrayed by Sophie.

  Roni ducked from between them and headed towards Kath and Helena who seemed to be holding a more jovial conversation. It was getting awkward and she had done enough damage for one day.

  Sophie shook her head at her friend coldly.

  “Clive told me that there was no way in a million years you’d take the job, Jude. He told me to offer it to someone else.” Sophie had never seen Jude look so disappointed in her. But it wasn’t her fault. She’d done everything by the book. “He said that you didn’t want to work and that you liked the easy life you’d had since the twins were born. He said something like ‘Don’t hold your breath’ – then something else about having life handed to you on a 24-carat plate . . . Or similar words amounting to the same thing.”

  “Oh. Did he now?” Jude’s facade changed from forlorn to fierce. “Easy? With twins?” she snorted.

  Jude took hold of Sophie’s hand, standing upright. Her posture oozed confidence and control.

  “I will never let you down, Sophie, I’ve told you that before and regardless of what my husband’s opinion is of me working, I will see this project through to the very end even if it kills me.” Jude almost spat the words out and Sophie realised then that Jude had told Clive. She guessed it hadn’t gone down particularly well but she needed to know for definite.

  “I take it you told Clive?”

  Jude nodded.