'Is he seeing you again?' demanded Simon.
'He… ' She stopped, taking in their wary expressions. In that split second she made her decision not to tell them the truth. She didn't know why, but there was something about the intensity of their distress that was out of key and she sensed that if she said yes they might very well make it impossible for her to get to the party. 'He didn't suggest it ,' she concluded. 'I think he can have his pick of women at the moment. I was just a momentary diversion; that's all, truly.'
Their relief showed her that she'd been right to keep silent about the party. Simon gave a weak smile. 'Sorry, precious. I guess we over-reacted but it is five in the morning. Anything could have happened to you. A car accident; a situation you couldn't handle; all sorts of things.'
'I'm all right, honestly.'
'Next time you want to go off with some handsome young man, please talk it over with us first, will you? There's a good girl!' He put an affectionate arm round her waist but she drew away. Everything he'd said tonight, apart from his fear, had been a lie, of that she was absolutely certain. She was beginning to think that he and Stephanie were well matched. Both lied fluently and both pretended to care for her well-being. It still hurt but at least she knew that neither of them could be trusted. She'd work out a way of getting to the party later on; right now all she wanted was her bed.
'I'm tired,' she said with a yawn. 'I'll skip breakfast if you don't mind. Perhaps you'd call me before lunch, Stephanie?'
After she'd gone Simon glanced at his wife. 'We've been lucky,' he said quietly, 'but it shows how careful we have to be. Finishing school's definitely the best solution.'
'I can't think what men see in her. She's almost plain at times,' said Stephanie acidly.
'Obviously men don't think so, and she is promised to… ' 'Let's hope he hasn't forgotten.'
'If he'd forgotten,' said Simon slowly, 'I'd be dead by now.'
Stephanie's eyes widened and she took hold of her husband's hand in a rare gesture of affection. 'But you're not,' she reassured him, 'and as long as madam upstairs doesn't repeat tonight's little caper then there's no reason for you to keep worrying.'
He was grateful for her sympathy, and when they went back to bed she let him into her room and allowed him to seek comfort from her familiar body. It wasn't entirely a selfless act; she knew that without Simon her life would be very different. But as long as they had Lisa they were safe.
Chapter Three
Lisa spent most of Christmas Day in the library reading. Since she'd been away both Simon and Stephanie had taken to drinking heavily and by mid-afternoon were incapable of making conversation. It gave her an opportunity to call Sabrina, asking her to ring up that evening inviting Lisa to a fictitious party.
'How thrilling!' enthused Sabrina, her voice huskier than usual because she was entertaining her latest boyfriend in her room and knew that a husky voice was what he expected of her. It signified smouldering sexual passion and kept the boredom well hidden. Sex was still boring for Sabrina but she spent a lot of time in pursuit of that elusive thrill.
'It is quite. He's rather a hunk.' 'Do I know him?'
Lisa hesitated. It seemed unlikely that Sabrina would watch a T.V. series considering that she claimed game shows over-taxed her, but she decided not to take the chance. 'No, just a man I met at a dinner party.'
'I expect to hear every detail in return for helping you out!' 'Naturally,' lied Lisa, who had learnt early on that it was safer to keep her feelings to herself.
'Super! I'll call them about seven, if they're still sober enough to take the information in by then.'
'They'll recognise your voice, that's all that matters. I'll do the same for you one day, Sabrina.'
'No need. My doting parents don't care what I do or who I do it with! William, stop it!' There was the sound of a light slap and a lot of giggling. Lisa put down the telephone and gave herself up to wondering what tomorrow evening would be like.
When Toby drove up to her front door the following day she ran from the house. Simon and Stephanie were upstairs dressing to go out but she didn't want them to see the low-slung Lotus that was a rather distinctive canary yellow.
'I thought you might have changed your mind,' said Toby casually.
She looked at him in surprise. 'Why should I do that?'
'From what I hear I'm not exactly what your parents have in mind for you.'
'Where did you hear that?'
'I do have friends, you know.' 'Friends my parents talk to?'
Toby wished he'd kept quiet. 'Let's say I guessed it, then.' 'You guessed right!'
'Are you wearing those black french knickers again?' She blushed. 'What do you mean by again?'
He laughed. 'I caught a glimpse of them when you were sitting at the Markoff 's bar.'
'You'll have to wait and see, won't you?'
He began to relax. At least she knew that she wasn't just there for the party. In fact, if things went well they might not go to the party at all.
He had a maisonette in Battersea. Lisa was shocked by the street and the outside of the building, but inside it was spacious and made more so by white walls and the clever use of mirrors. The main room had three steps up into a dining area and kitchenette with two doors leading off.
'Not quite what you're used to?' queried Toby, putting a classical tape on his beloved music centre which had been a gift from an older woman who'd hoped to educate him in the arts. He turned the volume down low. Lisa didn't look nervous but you could never be sure and he wanted it to go well for her. After all, it was generally accepted that women never forgot their first lover and he wanted to be remembered as a success. 'Drink?'
She'd been looking at his book shelves, mostly Harold Robbins and Alistair Maclean, and when she turned to look at him she suddenly seemed much older than her years. A trick of the light made it appear that she was assessing him, although being relatively reasonable and totally sober he realised this couldn't possibly be true. Just the same it was disconcerting. 'Do you want a drink?' he repeated.
'A dry white wine would be nice.'
'Sorry, I've only got a rather vile red. How about whisky?' 'Vermouth?'
'Not in fashion at the moment.' 'Campari?'
He was getting annoyed. 'It's whisky, gin, vodka or beer, O.K?' 'Vodka and tonic with lots of ice…unless that's out of fashion too!' Her laugh was strained, betraying her tension.
'I think I can manage that,' he muttered, hoping that the ice box at the top of his fridge hadn't frozen solid. Fate was kind, and within five minutes Lisa was sitting next to him on the two-seater settee, drinking her vodka and fiddling with the clasp of her leather shoulder bag.
Toby put down his drink, removed the bag from her lap and put an arm round her shoulders. 'Any trouble getting out tonight?'
'No.'
He glanced at her empty glass. 'That was quick! Want another?' Needing a little Dutch courage before actually going into the bedroom, she held out her glass. 'It hasn't got much taste.'
Toby laughed. 'True, but it's got a good kick in it. Tell me, why stay on at finishing school if you don't like it? Wouldn't you be happier doing all the usual things rich girls do? Lunching at fashionable restaurants with your friends, going to the theatre in the evening, doing the occasional charity fashion show!'
She shook her head, and immediately wished she hadn't as the room tilted alarmingly. 'No thanks, I want… '
'What?'
She sighed. 'I wish I knew. To be free of everything, I suppose.' 'You are free. This is as free as you get. Believe me, I know.' There was a touch of bitterness in his voice. 'Make the most of it. Life can be a bitch later on.'
She turned an inquiring face towards him, and he promptly forgot exactly what a bitch it was turning out to be for him and drew her closer, lowering his mouth to cover hers and delighted to find her tongue quickly slide inside his mouth, flickering lightly round his teeth and the inside of his lips.
After a few minutes he t
ook her by the hand and they walked to the bedroom. Lisa felt that it would have been more romantic if he'd carried her, but although built like an athlete, Toby was so heavily insured against injury he scarcely dared lift anything heavier than his head in the ordinary way of things. There were some very strict penalty clauses in his contract should he become injured through his own stupidity. He often wondered what the television company would say if they knew the truth about his private life.
Once in the bedroom, Lisa had difficulty in breathing. She stood perfectly still and waited to see what was expected of her. Sabrina had never mentioned before or after, only during.
'Take your clothes off,' whispered Toby. 'Take them off slowly while I watch.'
It was amazing how she seemed to have acquired extra thumbs all of a sudden. She fumbled with her stockings, couldn't reach the zip at the back of the dress and tried to pull a full length slip down over her hips without first slipping off the shoulder straps. All the time, Toby stood there watching her while his dark blue eyes sparkled with desire, and something that she wasn't sophisticated enough to recognise as triumph.
She was beautiful, he realised as she worked her way through her clothes. Beautiful in the way that a highly tuned racehorse is beautiful. She had marvellous bones, long elegant legs, a completely flat stomach and a face that was a devastating combination of complete naivety and inborn knowledge, as though she'd never been young. There was so much that he could teach her. So many things that he could do. It was almost more intoxicating than whisky. She might even be able to help him forget…
Finally naked, Lisa stood by the bed. She was trembling slightly from head to toe, and when Toby reached out and ran a long finger carefully down her right side, lingering over the sensitive hip bone, she jerked at the sharp, almost painfully sweet sensation it caused.
It didn't take him long to strip off his clothes, and as he walked towards her she noticed that his penis was standing rigidly upright brushing his lower stomach, and quickly raised her eyes. His chest was covered with dark hair that also surrounded the base of the penis, but his stomach was smooth and hairless.
'Lie down,' he instructed, pushing her gently on the shoulder, and she obediently stretched herself out against the sheets. For a few moments he remained propped on one elbow, studying her carefully, his eyes unable to see enough. Then he put his arms beneath her and lifted her body against his, moving his right leg quickly between hers so that when he released her from his grasp he was able to put a hand between her thighs and start moving his fingers in soft, ceaseless circles that made her start to squirm against his hand even as other sensations flickered from breast to stomach as he sucked and licked on her small, light pink nipples that fascinated him by their almost childlike appearance.
At first she tried to push his head away, ashamed of her small breasts and certain that they must be a disappointment to him, but he ignored her and once the pleasure began she ceased being embarrassed and realised that obviously size didn't matter at all.
Toby took a long time. He licked her ears and neck; he drew feather-like patterns on her stomach and back and returned again and again to her immature breasts, but never once did he attempt to put his mouth lower than her stomach because he sensed—quite correctly—that if he startled her this time she might never come back to him, and there was so much pleasure in store for them both that even Toby had the sense to exercise some discretion.
By the time he pressed himself against her entrance she was soaking wet, totally caught up in the pleasure, all fears dismissed. He entered slowly at first, hesitated at the slight restriction and then thrust hard, but her moan was more of surprise than pain and he felt free to carry on thrusting as hard as he liked.
She was tighter than any woman he'd ever had, even the occasional under-age virgin had usually been a technical virgin only, and this—coupled with the excitement of knowing that by simply being with her, making love to her and establishing a sexual hold, he was breaking the rules—made him incapable of lasting as long as usual.
Sometimes women begged him to finish but Lisa didn't because just as she began to tense, just as the feelings within her began to bunch up into a tight knot, Toby gave a groan of despair, shuddered and then slumped down on top of her.
Lisa stared at the back of his dark head in surprise. How could he let it end like that? she wondered. Surely there was more. There must be. All those writers couldn't be wrong. She felt frustrated, disillusioned and horribly vulnerable. Also, he was very heavy and she pushed at his chest.
'You're crushing me,' she murmured apologetically.
Aware of his failure, he rolled off her. 'I'm sorry. Just give me a few minutes and I'll make sure you're all right. You were too much for my self-control!' Taking a cigarette from the pack beside the bed he lit it. 'You don't mind, do you?'
'I'm afraid cigarette smoke makes me cough.' It was true but as soon as she'd spoken she knew it was a mistake.
His eyes darkened yet he kept his voice controlled. 'I always smoke after sex.'
'Then I think I'll have a shower if you've got one.' 'Sure, the bathroom's across the way.'
Above the sound of the water he suddenly heard the doorbell. Wondering who on earth could be calling on him at nine o'clock on Boxing Night, he pulled on his dark blue toweling robe and wandered down the steps and across to the side door.
At first he didn't recognise the man who stood outside. He was of average height with dark brown hair, wearing a dark blue overcoat with its collar turned up. It was only when he stepped across the threshold and Toby saw the light grey eyes and the mouth with its thin top lip that he realised who it was.
'What the hell are you doing here at Christmas time? Don't you ever enjoy yourself?'
'I leave that to you. You've got a girl here.' His voice was flat. 'True!'
'Lisa Greene.' 'It might be.' 'It is.'
'All right then, yes, it is. What's the matter? Fancy her yourself, do you? Well, I'm sorry, you'll have to wait your turn. She's mine right now. Completely mine, understand?'
'What a pity,' said the man slowly. 'You really ought to have checked first.'
'Checked out a date with you? You seem to forget who I am. I've got women hurling themselves at me all the time these days. T.V. has tremendous power. Surely you don't want me ringing you up every time I bring some over-excited groupie home?'
'Was Lisa Greene an over-excited groupie?' This time there was amusement in the voice.
Toby considered lying but there was something about this visitor that discouraged lying. 'Actually, no.'
'Quite.'
'Just the same, all's fair in love and war, and if it was her cherry you were after you're too late. Never mind, you can have her when I'm through. How's that for generosity?'
The visitor smiled. He actually smiled and Toby, despite his height advantage, instinctively took a step back. 'Your offer doesn't interest me. I'm not after her. I never have been after her. Surely you don’t imagine she’s my type.'
'Then who… ?'
'She was intended for Mr Gueras. Perhaps you'd care to call him and offer him your leavings? I could give you his holiday number if you like.'
Toby felt himself turning white. 'I didn't know!' he protested. 'How was I expected to know that? She isn't connected with him. Her family don't even move in the same circles.'
'You don't have to justify yourself to me, Walker. If I were you I'd make the most of her, and I'd be very careful to keep her happy too. For as long as you're allowed to keep her, that is. Goodnight, and a happy New Year!'
Toby slammed the door shut in fury. How he hated that man! He never brought anything but bad news. Bishop was a creep, and a psychopathic creep at that. But if what he'd said was true then it didn't bear thinking about, and so—as with everything else that didn't bear thinking about—Toby pushed it to the back of his mind. It had been a joke, he decided. Bishop's idea of a bit of Christmas fun. Well, it wasn't going to work. Lisa was still upstairs waiting fo
r him, and this time he'd make sure she didn't have anything to complain about. As for Bishop, he could go to hell.
Almost dragging Lisa from the shower he proceeded to make love to her for the next two hours until she'd come to one screaming climax after another, and only when she was ready to fall asleep from exhaustion did he finally allow himself to come for the second time, and after that they fell asleep wrapped round each other. They made love once more after they woke and then Toby took her home. By that time, Bishop's warped sense of humour was completely forgotten.
On the morning of Wednesday 27th December, Lisa was woken by the sound of Stephanie crying. Not crying in her usual manner with temper or exasperation, but sobbing without restraint. Amazed, Lisa put on a robe and went out on to the upper landing.
The sobbing was louder now, but still coming from a considerable distance. She glanced down the well of the stairway. At the bottom, standing on the new green wool carpet that just failed to match the green fleck of the wallpaper she could see both Simon and Stephanie. They were not alone.
Her throat felt suddenly tight, as though some tension had made its way up the stairs and was closing in round her. Silently, her feet still bare, she crept down the first flight and crouched on the lower landing. By peeping through the banister rail she could just catch a glimpse of the visitor.
There was no obvious reason to feel afraid of him, or for Stephanie to be crying in such a heartbroken manner. He was only young, perhaps a little below average height and with a beautifully styled head of dark brown hair that fell forward over his forehead in a childlike cowlick. He was compactly built but not heavy, and his face was all angles; straight, thin-bridged nose, sharp cheekbones and a stubborn chin. She couldn't see his eyes clearly but his mouth was on the thin side, his complexion clear and pale. No, there was nothing frightening there, and his gloveless hands were held loosely at his sides without any hint of hostility. Yet she did feel afraid, and so obviously did Stephanie and Simon.
Betrayal Page 3