Playing the Spy

by Maggie Brown

  More from shock than displeasure, she blurted out a stinging reprimand.

  With a squeal, Eleanor let go her hold, landing without dignity on her bottom at Sophie’s feet. She scrambled to her feet, steadied herself against a tree and glared. “I’ll have you know I didn’t hear you say anything. So what would you have had me do, pray tell? Leave you to bleed to death down here while I went for help.”

  To Sophie’s horror, tears welled up in Eleanor’s eyes. Sophie swallowed to relieve the sudden dryness in her throat and tried to speak calmly. But her voice wasn’t calm and even. It was trembling as the hellish scenario became too much. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Of course you would have been worried.”

  She pulled Eleanor into her arms, ignoring her own pain as she held her tight. Eleanor clung, sniffling in her neck. Without a thought, Sophie edged her head down and kissed her on the lips. A fleeting thing, but as the soft lips fluttered under hers, she drew back, embarrassed, at a loss to understand why she had been so impulsive. “Come on. We better get going before the rain really sets in,” she said.

  “Do we have to climb back up?” asked Eleanor tensely.

  “No. We should be able to stay on this level. Remember the track was going to fork downwards.” She pointed to the west. “If we make our way that-a-way, we’ll meet the trail.”

  They trudged off, the going tough as the trees became thicker. The rain didn’t let up. Water dripped uncomfortably down the neck of her polo shirt until exasperated, Sophie hauled it over her head.

  “You’ve got a bruise under your rib which needs ice,” said Eleanor.

  “The rain will cool it down until we get home. Look,” she called out in relief. “There’s the track.”

  “Thank God. I’ve had quite enough of hiking to last me a lifetime. All I want is to get into the spa.”

  “Come on then. We shouldn’t be too far off the house.”

  * * *

  After they finished soaking in the spa, Eleanor gently rubbed antibiotic cream over Sophie’s abrasions. As her skin quivered under the fingers, Sophie let her imagination run riot. It was easy to pretend that this was foreplay to lovemaking and not the medical administration of a friend. Once home again, Eleanor had reverted to the elegant self-possessed woman, completely in charge of her emotions. Sophie wished she would let her hair down as she had at the base of the hill. This Eleanor was completely out of Sophie’s league, but the other…oh, the other was quite attainable.

  Pleasure bubbled up inside her as Eleanor turned her over in the bed and unclipped the back of her bra. “Now I’ll give your back a very light massage. It’ll help the aches and pains.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Do you want me to strip down to my knickers?”

  “If you like. I’ll slip the shorts off.”

  Sophie raised her hips to allow them to be pulled down. It was like a dream, a scene straight from her fantasies, when Eleanor began to knead her shoulders with a steady soft rhythm. She let her eyes close, wrapped up in sensations as the fingers steadily worked out the knots. The hands rubbed downwards, occasionally skimming the outside curves of her breasts. By the time Eleanor began to work on the big glute muscles in her buttocks, Sophie was on fire with arousal. She began to squirm, seeking friction to relieve the ache between her legs. The hands began to massage firmer and Sophie couldn’t help herself. She groaned aloud with pleasure.

  Abruptly Eleanor stopped, and with a quick movement, lightly kissed the back of her neck. “That should do it. I’ll see you in the lounge with a glass of wine. You can put some ice on that bruise.”

  After Eleanor exited, Sophie remained spread out on the quilt. She was throbbing so intensely, she’d be flat out standing up. She could still feel the kiss on her neck…soft…sweet…silky. Geez, she’d never been so aroused and Eleanor hadn’t even touched an erotic part. With an effort, she redressed and went to the lounge.

  Eleanor was sitting on the long lounge chair, propped up in the corner, one leg tucked under her and a glass in her hand. “The wine’s in the fridge. Will you share the bottle or would you prefer something else?”

  “Wine will be fine. I’ll get myself a glass. Want a top up?”

  “Yes please. Put it in the ice bucket.”

  When she came back, Eleanor pointed to the seat opposite. “If you like you can sit there. We can put the bucket on the coffee table between us.”

  With a swing of her hips Sophie sank into the plush leather seat. “Well, that was a bitch of an ending to a nice day.”

  “Yes it was. I think we should walk on the beach for exercise from now on.”

  “My thought entirely.”

  Eleanor ran her finger round the rim of the glass, her eyes fixed on the drink. “I felt vulnerable today, more so than I have for a long time. It wasn’t a pleasant experience…I like being in control.”

  “Sometimes that’s difficult, particularly when you work for someone. What about when you’re making a film? Must you do what the director orders even though you don’t agree?”

  “To a point. The acting is still your own talent. He’s there to help you get the best out of the role. And I do have the option whether I accept the part or not.”

  “You’ve never been in chaos?” said Sophie, her attention fully caught now.

  Eleanor’s fingers moved restlessly from the rim to the stem of the glass. “My mother’s life is one chaotic moment to the next. I’ve always tried hard not to be as scatterbrained as she can be sometimes. I live a quiet orderly life.”

  “Lucky you. Hell, everything seems to happen to me. Mum calls me a walking disaster.” Sophie studied her, then couldn’t help herself. She prodded a little. “What about in your love life?” When Eleanor cocked her head with raised eyebrows, heat flushed across Sophie’s face. “I didn’t mean when you’re having…I meant…you know…don’t you let your lover run your life occasionally.”

  “That wasn’t what I was referring to about control. I don’t like losing my composure. And for your information, I haven’t been that attached to anyone for years to worry about it.”

  “What! You just love ’em and leave ’em? That’s mean.” As soon as the words burst out, Sophie knew she had overstepped her boundaries.

  Eleanor carefully placed the glass on the table, her eyes showing her anger and hurt. “Obviously you have a preconceived notion of me as a femme fatale. You are way from the truth and you were out of line just then.”

  The reporter in Sophie flared to the surface. Eleanor’s retort didn’t irk her as much as her dismissive tone. “Sorry. The remarks were inappropriate. But I can assure you I’ve never had any image of you one way or another, because I’ve never bothered with tabloid tripe. I’d rather read something more interesting, like the political page.”

  Eleanor poured herself another drink, ignoring the wine that splashed over the side of the glass. “So, you’re a bit above the common person. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “What I’m saying, I don’t like being treated like a bloody two-year-old.” Sophie emptied her glass in one swallow and reached for the bottle.

  “Then don’t act like one,” Eleanor snapped back.

  They locked eyes. As much as she wanted to be the one to win this encounter, Sophie knew Eleanor was right. She had said something inappropriate. “I beg your pardon, that was really rude of me. I apologize. If you’ll excuse me I’ll put on dinner.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eleanor stared blankly out the long glass window. She dragged a hand through her hair. Never had she experienced the flood of irrational feelings that Sophie provoked. The life she had carefully constructed one meticulous layer after the other, was faltering at its foundations. She had taught herself to remain composed, not to raise her voice, and to let no one ever see her without the defensive shield of elegance and good manners. But now when she had been really challenged, she hadn’t made the cut.

  Why was Sophie such a threat? More sophisticated and articulate people had neve
r been able to make even a dint in her armour. In her hearts of hearts, she knew why. She was terrified of leaving that ivory tower she had fashioned for herself and Sophie had the capacity to make her do just that. She was enormously attracted to the woman. She had woken feelings in Eleanor that refused to be ignored. It would be better to back right off, because the desire might deepen into something that would really hurt when it ended. Although she was sure now that Sophie preferred women, there was no future for them. Their lives were chalk and cheese.

  But no matter how much she rationalized the situation, Eleanor knew it was too late. Her heart was already engaged past the point of logic. With a long sigh, she rose from the comfort of the leather lounge chair and went into the kitchen.

  As Sophie raised her head to meet her gaze, a tear slid down her cheek. Eleanor gulped—she had made her cry. She stepped forward and with her thumb, gently wiped it away. “Oh my dear, I am so very sorry.”

  “Why are you apologising to me, Eleanor? I was the one who was at fault. I had a bad case of foot and mouth, and then I deliberately provoked you.” A sniffle was followed by a hiccup. “You’re…you’re always so calm and I…I felt…well… that you were talking down to me.”

  Eleanor flinched. “I’d never treat you like that, Sophie. You’ve become a good friend and I value that. Can we please put this behind us?”

  “I don’t know why you would want to.”

  “You can cook, you’re a good housekeeper, you’re kind and compassionate, but most of all, it’s because I like you. Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Yes it is, and for what it’s worth, I like you too, Eleanor. You’re a special person.”

  “Good. Now that’s cleared up, let’s eat.”

  Sophie blew her nose loudly on a tissue. “You just want me for my cooking.”

  “Of course. Why else?” said Eleanor, laughing. As she trailed Sophie back out of the kitchen, she shook her head. If only it were that simple.

  * * *

  Eleanor rose from the bed, pleased to see the morning was bright and cloudless. She was looking forward to checking out the resort today. With renewed enthusiasm, she dressed and bustled downstairs. Sophie was humming in the kitchen as she prepared breakfast. Eleanor stood and watched her from the door, suddenly shy when Sophie looked up with a smile. Eleanor risked pecking her cheek, before she stole a piece of bacon from the plate.

  “Ah, ah. Don’t pick.”

  Eleanor gave a throaty laugh. “That’s the best part. I’ll make us some cappuccinos while you serve out.”

  The argument seemed to have lifted their relationship to another level. They were more at ease with each other than ever. As they ate in companionable silence, Eleanor glanced at Sophie and thought how good it was to breakfast with someone. She wondered what it would be like to have a lover to share the burden of decision-making. At no time had her affair with Maria ever been considered long-term. That would have been impossible. It was what it was, passionate wonderful sex. No, that wasn’t strictly true—she’d always thought of it as lovemaking. But had it been really? Eleanor hadn’t gotten to know her first as a friend. It had been an infatuation, madness. And then Marie had gone back to her life, her husband.

  Eleanor felt something cold squeeze her heart. Had she been deluding herself all these years? Had it just been an adulterous fling for Marie, an interlude, while it had left the younger Eleanor devastated, trying to pick up the pieces of her life?

  “Are you all right?” Sophie asked with concern.

  Eleanor made a concerted effort to shoo the memories away. It was pointless after all these years to dwell on the past, and she wondered why she was having these thoughts now. She had put it all behind her years ago. “I’m fine. Just reminiscing,” she answered with a reassuring smile. “So, what are the plans for this morning?”

  “Would you like to see the building first or the beach? There’s a small movie theatre. We could view a film if you like. The man at the boat shed wants to meet you. We can organize a cruise with him for another day.”

  “Let’s go down to the beach first.”

  “Put on your swimsuit then. We might get a spot of sunbaking as well as a swim. Wear a shirt over the top, for the sun will burn.”

  Eleanor rubbed on the sunscreen with anticipation. She was a keen swimmer, having had lessons at her grandmother’s insistence as soon as she could walk. Nanna Godwin had lived at Noosa, and she had spent many summer holidays with the grand old lady at her seaside cottage. Nanna would sit on her folding chair on the beach, telling stories of her life in England before the war while Eleanor ate orange cream biscuits with her feet in the water. Her fair complexion was inherited from her grandmother, who looked like a china doll with her lovely glazed porcelain skin and fine snow-white hair. In those days, her parents always seemed to be busy: her father with his number-crunching work at the Government Statistician’s Office and her mother with yet another bleeding heart cause. She had grown to love the sea as a refuge from both the hurts of the outside world and loneliness.

  As soon as she and Sophie stepped onto the fine white sand, Eleanor felt she was home. She ran to the edge, marvelling at the clarity of the water. Like looking into a mirror, she mused.

  “There’s a place near the pier where we can swim,” said Sophie. “You’ll be stepping on coral here. We have to be careful of stonefish. They’re poisonous.”

  “Okay, but let’s have a dip before we explore. I’m dying to get into the water.”

  After a vigorous lengthy swim, Eleanor floated in the sea, kissed by the sun as she marvelled at the many shades of blues and greens. With no cityscape or clouds, the sky seemed endless, climbing into infinity. She glanced across at Sophie who was also on her back. She seemed equally at home in the water, swimming with an ability that appeared to come naturally.

  They stayed in the water for over an hour, until reluctantly she knew if she stayed much longer, sunscreen or no sunscreen, she would be burnt. Sophie had no such worry, with her light golden tanned complexion that seemed to glow with vitality.

  They sat in silence after towelling down, happy to meditate in the peaceful surroundings.

  “A dollar for them,” said Eleanor after a while.

  “What?”

  “Your thoughts.”

  “Oh, I was just thinking what a wow factor this place is. It’s like a dream world, just the two of us alone in paradise.”

  With her index finger, Eleanor absently drew a heart in the sand, adding an arrow before she self-consciously scratched the doodle out. “Yes it is. Do you have someone waiting for you at home that you would like to share this with?”

  “I’ve good friends, but no one romantically special if that’s what you mean?”

  Eleanor glanced down at her hands and then across at Sophie sheepishly. “That sounded like I was prying. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. My love life isn’t worth talking about. It pretty well sucks.”

  “Really? I find that hard to believe.”

  Sophie looked quickly away. “Yeah, well, I do get asked out, but…um…my options are limited.”

  “Oh, so you’re fussy…is that what you’re saying?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” she mumbled.

  “That sounded like twenty questions, but you are a little mysterious. So…would you like to have dinner with me tonight at the restaurant?”

  “Okay. It’ll be good to eat someone else’s cooking for a change. Do you want to eat after the movie?”

  “No…no, you misunderstood exactly what I meant. I’d like to take you out on a proper dinner date. We’ll go home and get dressed up.”

  Sophie turned around to stare at her. “Like a date date?”

  “Yes,” said Eleanor with a smile.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sophie discarded yet another dress and went back to the cupboard. Damn. Why was this so hard? When had she ever taken so long to make up her mind? She had no idea what the date actually meant: dinner bet
ween two friends or something more. Maybe it was just to make up for their fight. Whatever it was, this was probably the only proper date she was ever going to get with Eleanor, so she’d better make an impression. Tonight called for something very sexy. And she had just the outfit hanging in the wardrobe. The infamous dress from the bar.

  Stop procrastinating, girl, and put it on.

  As she slipped it over her head, she wondered why she was harbouring any hope that Eleanor would think her desirable. The woman was in a class of her own, way out of Sophie’s league. Just watching her interact with the staff today had been an experience in itself. She had them eating out of her hand, even Monique had been ditzy. When she entered the boat shed, Sophie thought Doug was going to wet himself. Overall, it was a fruitful day for everyone. Eleanor had made a lasting impression and Deirdre had extracted a promise from the star to do a reading on their poetry night.

  Finally dressed, Sophie carefully applied more makeup than normal, arranged her hair and made her way to the lounge. Eleanor looked a million dollars in cream pants, an emerald green silk blouse and a smart cream jacket. From the exquisite cut of the suit, it was way out of Sophie’s price range. She was pleased to note that Eleanor’s eyes widened when she entered the room, and for a second her gaze lingered on the low scoop of fabric over Sophie’s bust.

  “You look lovely. Ready to go,” asked Eleanor.

  “Yes. Do you want to drive?”

  “I do. I’m looking after you tonight.”

  She waited for Sophie to climb into the buggy before she took her seat at the wheel. When a whiff of heady tantalizing perfume misted around Sophie, she inhaled appreciatively. Then as Eleanor leaned down to turn the key, her arm brushed Sophie’s breast. Her nipple hardened, and embarrassed, she pulled back.