The Summer of Aphrodite

by Viva Jones

  Audrey was in position on her sun bed. She, too, kept looking at her watch, keen to get hold of the sports pages. She’d had to transfer a midfielder that week and wanted to check that his replacement would be playing.

  At just after one o’clock Richard appeared, went over to his mother-in-law, kissed her on the forehead and presented her with the paper. Then he went indoors, saying he was changing for a swim. Barry waited a couple of minutes before racing round to fetch Douglas, and between them, they started to assemble the trestle tables by the pool.

  As Richard got to the bedroom, he was confronted by Anna, naked but for a ribbon tied around her waist, lying decorously on the bed.

  ‘Happy birthday, darling,’ she purred seductively.

  ‘Oh, gosh, Anna,’ Richard said, unbuttoning his shirt. ‘You are amazing, you know that?’

  She picked up Nathalie’s latest bottle of scented oil, this one a blend of jasmine, neroli and rose, and smiled seductively.

  ‘And to think, I was going to go for a swim,’ Richard said.

  ‘I did promise you,’ Anna said. ‘Your swim can wait. You did give mummy the paper, now, didn’t you? Then we’ve got rid of her for at least half an hour. So come to bed my birthday boy.’

  Sitting on top of him, Anna massaged the oil into his shoulders, then his back, then the backs of his thighs and calves. He groaned with pleasure. Then she turned him over, ignoring his excited state, and continued to massage the oil into his chest and arms, and then all down his legs.

  ‘Let me do you,’ he gasped.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Today it’s all about you.’

  Since that morning with Nathalie, every time they’d made love, Anna had let those images pop into her mind. Nathalie sucking her husband’s cock, Richard studying Nathalie’s cunt, Richard and Nathalie kissing and fucking. The pain these images gave her was exquisite, and made her husband all the more desirable. How she doted on his cock these days, how gently she handled his balls. The thought that Richard and Nathalie might have got together since, behind her back, tormented her in the most delicious of ways.

  She peeped out of the window, where Barry was now laying the table. Her timing was crucial. She couldn’t keep everyone waiting. Finally she started massaging Richard where he most wanted her to, with her mouth, soft and wet, before slipping him inside her and riding him up and down.

  ‘Oh, God, this is mind-blowing,’ Richard gasped, trying to catch his breath. ‘Oh God, I’m, I’m - ‘ and then he juddered and shuddered and held her as he shot his load inside her, clinging on to her in desperate gratitude.

  ‘Do you two want some lunch?’ came Audrey’s cry from downstairs. That was Anna’s cue.

  ‘Darling, mummy and I have got a little surprise for you,’ she said. ‘Put on your swimming things, not the speedos, but the trunks, oh, and this shirt, and let’s go outside.’

  Richard was puzzled. This wasn’t like Anna, but then, he wasn’t forty every day. They got dressed and went down the stairs.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Audrey told them excitedly, ushering them to the door. ‘Do come along and look at what I’ve been up to.’

  Outside, Richard could barely believe his eyes. There, by the pool, was a table, full of food and plates and bottles, festooned with balloons and a banner which read “Happy Birthday Richard”. And in front of it stood pretty much everyone from the complex, all clapping and wishing him many happy returns.

  ‘I, I don’t know what to say,’ Richard stuttered, touched.

  ‘Happy birthday, darling,’ Anna said, giving her husband a hug. As she did, she looked towards number two, where his friends were quietly coming outside. Then one of them, Roger, shouted, ‘Happy fortieth, you old bugger!’ and Richard pulled away in shock.

  ‘Roger! Nick! Chris! What are you all doing here?’

  ‘Wouldn’t miss your big bash for the world,’ Chris shouted as the three strode over, past the others, to where Richard stood. ‘How are you, you old sod?’

  They shook hands and slapped his back and their wives rushed over to shower him with hugs and kisses, gifts clutched in their arms. Anna stood back, looking on proudly. Everything had gone to plan, and Richard hadn’t had a clue.

  But Richard himself was the only one not laughing. Nathalie saw it first. She couldn’t describe how he looked - at a loss, perhaps; stunned, or winded. A smile was frozen on his face, but his eyes were telling a very different story.

  In the end, he turned to Anna. ‘You arranged all this?’

  She beamed at him proudly, tears of happiness in her eyes.

  But Richard, Nathalie could see quite clearly, was far from happy. He was devastated.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Ginnie had a couple of smoked salmon canapés and decided to stop there. Her dress fitted her well enough, but too much food and it would start to strain. When the next waitress arrived with a platter of vol-au-vents topped with prawns, Ginnie sadly shook her head.

  ‘What, you not eating?’ Demetrius asked, helping himself to one. ‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who’s always watching her figure?’

  Ginnie smiled. What was it about that accent that made him so sexy? ‘I have to be careful, you know.’

  He looked disappointed. ‘I didn’t take you for one of them. I saw you as being passionate about life. About your cats, about your work, about your projects, you’re just full of life, you radiate it. I didn’t see you as being so strict on yourself.’

  She didn’t know what to say, so she just smiled, embarrassed, and placed her hand protectively over her stomach.

  ‘You’ve got a perfect body, you know that?’ he went on. ‘It’s a real body. It’s been places, done things, it’s experienced life. It’s not perfect because there is no such thing as perfection; its flaws are its beauties, and its generosity reflects the generosity of your spirit. You can’t go starving a body like that.’ He held the vol-au-vent to her lips. ‘Go on,’ he said with an encouraging smile. ‘I know you want to.’

  Ginnie couldn’t help herself. With a giggle she ate the pastry, and as it was so delicious, promptly took another.

  ‘That’s more like it!’ he said, laughing with her.

  God, she thought. Was this man a dream?

  Over in another part of the gathering, the nightmare was just beginning for Tanya. She’d spotted Mr Makhtabi chatting with Yannakis and thought nothing of it. But now Yannakis was marching towards her, and he was not looking pleased.

  ‘Tanya, what’s this I’ve been hearing about you?’

  Tanya froze.

  ‘Mr Makhtabi tells me your picture was in the paper the other day. And that you were with one of your clients, Marinos Kiriakos.’

  ‘Oh that,’ Tanya cried out in relief. ‘Yes, well, basically, once we’d established that mum was better, well, Mr Kiriakos gave me a ring, ‘cause he wanted to go over some final details, and then he suggested we had dinner. I didn’t even know what he did at that point, let alone that he was famous, and before I knew it, there was all these cameras all over the place.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s what happened, Tanya?’

  ‘Of course I am.’ Tanya tried not to blush.

  ‘Because if you lied to me, if you’re making a fool of me - ‘

  ‘Never.’ Tanya feigned outrage.

  ‘So you and Kiriakos, then? You know affairs with clients are strictly against company policy?’

  ‘Look, it was only a dinner - ’

  ‘Tanya, take this as an official warning, all right? You’ve done a good job but don’t let it go to your head. There are company rules and it’s my job to check you obey them.’

  ‘Yes, but - ‘

  In the distance she could see Mr Makhtabi, a satisfied look on his face. More than ever, Tanya wished she was in London, with Ma
rinos, in his flat overlooking Highbury Fields.

  ‘Now, don’t lie to me, Tanya,’ Yannakis said sternly. ‘Was your mum really sick?’

  ‘Yes!’ She nearly burst into tears. ‘And if you can’t believe me then I don’t want your stupid job any more. I don’t need it and I don’t want it, neither.’

  Yannakis went to say something, but was distracted by the start of the speeches. Tanya stepped back, taking a slug of champagne, and tried to gather herself. It didn’t matter, she kept thinking. None of this mattered. She could walk away today, knowing that Marinos would be there for her.

  ‘You all right, love?’ It was Ginnie, looking concerned.

  Tanya nodded. ‘My boss just found out about my trip to London,’ she whispered. ‘And I think I might have just resigned.’

  Ginnie was about to react when the speeches started. They stood together, Ginnie’s hand resting protectively on her friend’s arm, and listened to them. How people could find so much to say about so little always amazed Ginnie. There was the magnificence of the forthcoming villas, their undoubted luxury, their landscaped gardens, their incredible privacy and their unrivalled level of security. Then there was their glorious south-facing aspect, their strategic location close to airport, sea and town and their solar-heated swimming pools to ensure year-round bathing.

  Finally the CEO announced how proud he was to be sponsoring a campaign that would benefit the entire island, and its cat population. That got a titter from the crowd. He called Nigel Wentworth up onto the podium with him. Nigel stepped up, shook the man’s hand warmly and smiled at the applauding crowd. Next, the CEO announced that Nigel would explain what the campaign was all about. But Nigel hadn’t been expecting this. He loosened his tie. He coughed. He looked like a man who’d just realised his stack of Readers’ Wives photos had been caught by a breeze and fluttered into the vicar’s neighbouring garden. He coughed and stumbled over his words, he blushed red and his forehead started to sweat. He took great gulps of air and loosened his collar. Then finally, he gave up.

  ‘Perhaps it would be better,’ he croaked. ‘If my associate and the brainchild behind this venture spoke on my behalf.’ The last words came out strangulated, and the crowd had to crane their necks to hear. Nigel coughed again. ‘Ginnie Clark,’ he called out, surveying the gathering for his saviour. Inside, he was begging her to get up on that stage as quickly as she could to rescue him.

  Ginnie, appalled on his behalf, was only too happy to oblige.

  ‘Thank you Nigel,’ she started once she was next to him on the podium. ‘Thank you everyone.’

  She wasn’t used to public speaking either, and coughed nervously. She took a deep breath and looked into the gathering where she found Demetrius, who nodded encouragingly. Then somehow the words came through for her, somewhere from deep within; a well of passion she’d let slip these last couple of weeks. She spoke eloquently about why male cats should be neutered. She spoke about feline aids, about how rapidly it was spreading, and how relatively easily it could be prevented. She gave praise to Tiggles and to Nigel and Trisha, and she spoke with clear affection for the cats of Cyprus themselves. Then, remembering what Douglas had told her, she finished her speech off by saying, ‘And it is fitting that on this, the feast day of Aphrodite, who as we all know, was born of the foam of Uranus’s severed genitals, that today we, the lucky residents of the sunshine isle, start to take responsibility for the creatures around us, and set about safely and humanely limiting their numbers.’

  The crowd, who weren’t sure whether to wince or cheer at that, quietly began clapping, and a beaming Ginnie sought out Demetrius again, who was right in the centre of them all, thumping his palms together with enthusiasm.

  She stepped off the podium, followed by Nigel, who was just about getting his voice back.

  ‘Well done, Ginnie,’ he told her with an embarrassed nod.

  ‘Thank you for giving me the opportunity,’ she told him tactfully, before making her way over to Demetrius, who promptly wrapped her in his arms and held her there.

  ‘You’re an amazing woman,’ he said. ‘I never thought I’d meet anyone like you.’

  Bubbles of tears welled in Ginnie’s eyes, but she didn’t care. She was a passionate woman, who had finally met a man deserving of her.

  She wanted this moment to last for ever.

  ***

  ‘You arranged all this behind my back?’ Richard asked his wife, a huge but fake smile on his face.

  ‘As you said, you’re only forty once. And it gave everyone a good excuse for a long weekend without the children.’

  ‘Heavens. I think I need a drink.’ He made for the makeshift bar Barry had set up and grabbed a can of lager. ‘Is there much more of this?’ he asked Douglas, who was pouring himself some champagne.

  ‘Gallons of it in the bath over there,’ he told him, indicating number two.

  ‘Thank Christ for that.’ Richard stood alone for a moment. His friends were already knocking back their beers and laughing together. He knew he should join them and at least pretend to be pleased to see them, but that task had all the appeal of walking into a local bar and defending the Turkish occupation of the north.

  Nathalie watched him from a distance. What had happened to him, she wondered. What was it that had made such a huge impact? She watched as he reluctantly began to join in the banter, laughing a kind of laugh she’d never heard before, as there was nothing sincere about it. A worried-looking Anna joined her.

  ‘I think it’s going all right,’ she said, though it was more of a question than a statement. ‘I mean, he’s laughing with them, isn’t he?’ she added. ‘He was a bit taken aback, that’s all.’

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ Nathalie told her, hating herself for the lie. What hell was Richard going through right now, she wondered. What demons was he facing? She remembered her journey of that morning, and realised he needed to face up to his own. As Anna disappeared to chat to the wives, she watched Richard open his gifts - a set of six brandy glasses, a bottle of vintage port, a blow-up doll - and felt Douglas sidle up to her.

  ‘So, my Goddess, how goes it?’ He looked her up and down. She was wearing a bikini covered by a beach dress made of coarsely crocheted gold thread. She’d spotted it in one of the shops near the market earlier that week, and, reminded of Aphrodite’s golden filigree girdle, had bought it as a joke.

  ‘What magic lies in those finely-wrought threads?’ he asked.

  ‘You’re supposed to be the magician around here.’

  ‘Oh, how I’ve tried, but my calls go unheeded.’

  ‘You’re a dangerous person to be with. The last time we nearly got ourselves killed, remember?’

  ‘Highly regrettable,’ Douglas conceded. ‘But how cool you were. I can’t bear hysterical women.’

  Nathalie couldn’t look in his eyes. He was pulling her in towards him; she could feel it like a magnet. ‘D’you believe any of the stuff in your website?’ she asked.

  ‘You’ve taken a look, then?’

  ‘There were things I had to learn.’

  ‘I bet you were a good student.’

  ‘I know what you’ve been up to. Psychic Command. Me, Anna, Ginnie. Even Tanya, perhaps. It won’t work.’

  ‘How do you know it hasn’t already?’

  Then she did look up at him. His eyes were creased with laughter lines. If she gave herself up to him now, if she got caught up in the moment, in the rapture of his presence, she’d only feel revulsion later. ‘Stick to your hookers, Douglas,’ she said finally, turning away. ‘Leave the rest of us alone.’

  ‘The most flattering form of worship, you know, screwing them. They’re all your priestesses after all.’

  But Nathalie was no longer listening. She felt a shiver run through her spine. There was that feeling again.

  Something was d
efinitely wrong.

  ***

  ‘How could you do this to me?’ Richard snarled at his wife after she’d followed him inside number eight. ‘How could you?’

  ‘I wanted to surprise you, I thought you’d enjoy it.’

  Fuelled by two or three beers downed one after the other, Richard could hold back no longer. ‘I never wanted to see them again, you understand me? I never wanted to see them again.’

  ‘Richard, I didn’t know that.’ Anna’s throat felt hollow. The glass of champagne she’d drunk raced straight to her head, confusing her. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Four years it’s taken me, four fucking years!’ he spat. ‘And now here I am, expected to be all laughing and jolly with them, and to welcome them into my own home!’ He broke down, pinching his nose and taking a deep breath. His face had turned red.

  ‘What happened, Richard?’ Anna begged, stroking his back. ‘Tell me? Let me help you.’

  He shook his head. ‘The only way you can help me,’ he said as evenly as he could. ‘Is to tell that lot outside to fuck right off and never come back here again!’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ she told him. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Fine.’ Richard snarled, before pushing her aside and making his way back to the bar.

  Anna stood there, in a state of shock and confusion. Then her mother appeared.

  ‘Anna dear, can I just use your computer for a while? Only I just need to check - is something wrong?’

  ‘No, everything’s fine,’ Anna said through her sobs.

  ‘Richard’s at the bar,’ Audrey said, peering outside. ‘Has he got a drinking problem? I’ve always had my suspicions.’

  ‘He hasn’t got a drinking problem,’ Anna told her tersely. ‘Go and check on the computer, by all means,’ she added.

  She started to gather herself. She couldn’t let the party be spoiled. She had to go out there and face the world. She brushed away her tears and checked her appearance in the kettle. It was nothing that a pair of sunglasses couldn’t hide. She looked outside where her guests were starting to eat Barry’s food. She had to go out there and play hostess, she told herself. Pretend that nothing was wrong. It was her duty.