The Catalyst

by Angela Jardine

  Crossing the threshold she became aware he had made some effort with the kitchen, vaguely remembering it from the day she injured her ankle as being cluttered and untidy, as if a giant hand had thrown everything up in the air and it had all just been left where it landed. Now however the kitchen was warm and inviting and she was drawn to the worn leather sofa facing an old cream Aga.

  A ginger cat sat with its arms folded on a brightly coloured throw on one of the arms of the sofa, so far lost in its dreams it didn’t even bother to look at the new arrival. The kitchen table cosied up to the back of the sofa so there was only room on the other three sides for the somewhat battered kitchen chairs. The walls were covered in a chaos of paintings with traditional landscapes arranged haphazardly beside vivid abstracts. The whole scene was one of a vibrant, shabby comfort … with the smell of burnt toast in the air.

  ‘Seems like I can’t even get beans on toast right tonight!’ Jimmy said with a soft laugh, knowing she had noticed the smell. She laughed with him and the unspoken tension between them eased. ‘Look, I’ll make some more … you come and sit down next to Brutus. He won’t hurt you but he might try to sit on your lap … he can be a bit of a pain like that.’

  ‘That’s no problem to me ... I love cats.’ She found herself sinking down into the sagging sofa further than she had expected until she was at eye level with Brutus, who regarded her solemnly now she was sort of up close and personal.

  Promptly deciding that she would do, he stood up and, stretching one back leg with an elaborate flowering of his toes, he moved in on her. She sat back and expected him to settle curled up in her lap but like his owner he was anything but predictable and preferred instead to sit bolt upright on her lap facing her, looking into her eyes and blinking dotingly in feline reassurance.

  ‘He only does that with people he likes,’ Jimmy said as he cut thick slices of bread and rammed them into the toaster. ‘He’s an amazing colour, isn’t he?’

  Sunny knew what he meant and stroking the extravagant orange fur she found herself becoming much more comfortable with the situation. There was something very relaxing in being so obviously accepted by this treasured animal.

  Indeed, it was an apparent perversity in Jimmy’s nature that although his attitude to women was usually irresponsible at best or cavalier at worst he had an unsuspected tender streak for all animals who he felt were more vulnerable and thus much more in need of human protection. It had seemingly never occurred to him such vulnerability might also be part of a woman’s make-up.

  Wine?’ he said, hovering over her with a large glass and a bottle of red wine, desperate for her to drink alcohol and hopefully relax more. She hesitated, wanting to accept but debating with herself whether or not she might be driving home later tonight.

  As usual Jimmy read her thoughts and squatted down in front of her, bold enough to hold her gaze now. He handed her the glass and poured a large measure of wine into it without taking his eyes away from hers and she knew she would not be driving anywhere that night.

  ‘Wine with beans on toast … never let it be said that I don’t know how to live!’

  She chuckled at the incongruity of the thought and then allowed the wine to finish the unwinding process.

  As they ate Jimmy became more voluble, suddenly surer of his role and she responded to his wit and warmth. He hadn’t needed the wine to help him relax, he just felt happier than he had ever felt in his life before. He was high on euphoria; not only was there this beautiful woman laughing with him but he also knew he would be holding, stroking, touching her before the evening was over. There was peril in that thought so he tried hard to think of other things. Failure in bed was just not an option.

  ‘Now, what shall we have for dessert? How about rice pudding? With jam? Yes, with jam. I’m sure I’ve got those somewhere in the cupboard.’

  He grinned boyishly, almost daring her to remark on his lack of culinary expertise.

  ‘Wonderful! I don’t think I’ve had that since I was a kid.’

  ‘Ah ... last week then.’

  Amused as much by his straight face as his ludicrous flattery, she laughed and felt the last lingering echo of tension leave her. She was now determined to enjoy every minute of this unexpected adventure and by the time the meal was finished it seemed entirely natural for Jimmy to lock the back door, saying in foolish reassurance it was in case a mad axe man tried to break in.

  Then taking her gently by the hand he led her through to the other room to work. This room was still known as the ‘parlour’ from the days when the farmer and his wife had lived here and even though the furnishings were well worn, the neat, bright cushions decorated with appliquéd patterns gave the room an air of comfort.

  In contrast to the electric light in the kitchen this room was lit only by candlelight and the fire. It was warm and the fuzzy, welcoming light from the candles softened the hard lines of the heavy wooden furniture that stood half-hidden in the shadows.

  ‘What a lovely room!’ she said, knowing he had taken pains to make it appealing. Seeing his gratified expression, she guessed that praise in this area was unknown territory for Jimmy.

  She put her wine glass down on the mantelpiece, noting with satisfaction she had not yet drunk one complete glass of wine but still felt totally at ease about being here. Feeling Jimmy’s efforts deserved to be met halfway she turned her back on him and, reaching for the hem of her cropped grey jumper, she pulled it off over her head.

  Despite her apparent casualness Jimmy could still sense something, not exactly hesitation, not even nervousness, something more indefinable; perhaps an unspoken request for kindness He had wondered if he would have to persuade Sunny to take her clothes off for him and unexpectedly he felt a lump come into his throat at her display of trust. Again she was making him feel emotions he had never experienced before and so had no template for dealing with them.

  He swallowed uncomfortably and set about organising his paper and charcoals, busying himself so as not to appear to be gawping at her, trying to help her feel that drawing naked women was a commonplace occurrence to him. The truth was very different.

  It was a strange fact that life studies had held little fascination for him even as a student. Surprisingly for such a connoisseur of the female body, the female nude had so far never induced him to paint it, his tastes for a woman’s body always running to the purely physical. His love, his passion, had always been for the outdoors, the wilder elements of land, sea and sky and although he had had many mistresses with beautiful bodies he had never felt the need to capture them on canvas.

  Sunny had changed all that and now he could not explain why he felt such an urgent need to paint her. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to adjust the paper fixed to his drawing board. Keeping her back to him she wriggled her hips a little to peel off her narrow-fitting jeans to reveal brief black knickers. She paused then, momentarily, as if debating with herself about going further.

  He held his breath as he watched her, knowing she was feeling her way into nudity in front of him. Despite his best efforts to appear cool, he could not help but stare at her as she gradually undressed, noticing the gentle swing of her breasts as she bent forward to put her clothes on a chair. He was surprised at their fullness on such a slight frame and became slightly alarmed in case he was unable to draw her, unable to concentrate, to control himself. Hesitantly she started to turn towards him.

  ‘No!’ He almost shouted the word. ‘Sorry ... no, just stay facing that way … please ...’

  He was annoyed with himself, aware that his words had been too abrupt as she obligingly turned away from him again. Her head drooped forward a little as she looked down at her feet awaiting further instructions and he was reminded of the fragile droop of a snowdrop.

  He wanted to rush over and kiss the strangely childlike nape of her neck and tell her he was sorry for shouting. Instead he cleared his throat and tried to make amends without wanting it to appear necessary.r />
  ‘I just want to draw you from the back ... I want to capture the … dancer … in you.’

  He wondered if his explanation sounded too pretentious somehow. Then she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, a little timidly he felt, and immediately he felt guilty. Why was he putting her through this? Why had he hesitated to explain he wanted to capture that air of vulnerability he detected from her back?

  Well, there was no going back now. If he did it would make everything look too obvious, as though he had simply invited her here for sex, and whilst that might well be almost true he didn’t want this woman to think like that about him.

  With an abrupt burst of impatience at the increasing confusion of his emotions, he set to work and soon found himself oblivious of everything except the planes and curves, the play of light and shadow on the softly lit body in front of him. Stealing a quick look at him, Sunny could see he was totally absorbed in his work, his face serious, almost stern, in its concentration.

  Here, at last, was an unexpected peacefulness of spirit diffusing from him and it allowed her to relax into her pose. Her confidence grew and she began to find it easier to make the subtle movements he asked of her. He made sketches, asking her to raise her arms, first one and then the other, to turn her head, to tilt it, to shift her weight from one hip to the other, to look down, to lift her chin.

  Then he would stride over to push her hair gently to one side to see the curve of her cheek bone, the sweep of her eyelashes, making adjustment after adjustment until he was finally content with the pose; all the time rapidly drawing sketch after sketch and discarding them onto the floor, constantly striving to pare down the image to the few simple lines he wanted.

  Only once did he put down his charcoal and leap up to throw some more logs on the fire, aware the room might be getting too cool for her. Only once did he allow her to drop her outstretched arm to rest it when she felt she could not hold the pose any longer. Finally she heard the scrape of charcoal on paper cease followed by a sigh. There was contentment in the sound but before she could turn round to look at him he was suddenly close behind her, slipping his arms under hers and cradling her breasts as he pulled her tightly back against him.

  She looked down at the charcoal-blackened hands and the marks they were leaving on her skin and laughed. He peered over her shoulder at the mess his hands were making, looking sideways at her with a roguish smile as if anticipating her annoyance. So here it was then, at last, the true reason for her visit.

  Turning in his arms she looked up at him, becoming suddenly aware of the vulnerability of her nakedness. All of a sudden, and despite the fact she had a fairly legitimate reason for having no clothes on, she felt like a dreamer who finds themselves inappropriately nude in their dreams. Her face was easily readable to Jimmy but before she had time to react and push him away, he had clamped his mouth down very hard on hers and she felt an instant blaze of passion leap deep down inside her.

  She responded, opening her mouth more, allowing him to explore her with his tongue, tasting him with her own. She was aware she had done nothing like this for a very long time but it didn’t seem to matter, she would just follow where Jimmy led although he too must be naked.

  That thought had apparently also occurred to Jimmy and they both now fumbled feverishly with the belt of his jeans as he shook off his sandals. Finally, he yanked his scarlet T-shirt over his head and stood breathless and triumphantly smiling in front of her, daring her to dislike what she saw. Of course she instantly loved what she saw. There was nothing wrong with Jimmy’s body despite his age and he knew it as he stood grinning at her, a sober Silenus, cradling his erection in one hand.

  The effect could have felt threatening but it wasn’t. Instead there was only a feeling of fun, of illicit naughtiness. For Jimmy there was always a measure of uncertainty with his art, but with seduction he was on surer ground and he had come to realise the woman in front of him was really two people in one.

  Now he decided to appeal to what he hoped was her wanton side. She was obviously no inexperienced virgin and he urgently wanted to please her as well as himself. Sunny giggled, half embarrassed now as he took hold of her hand and guided it, pressing her fingers closed around his penis, watching her face all the time.

  His hardness excited her and suddenly having an urgent need to feel the heat of it against her, she pushed herself against him. The movement made him laugh with surprise. Definitely no ice maiden then, he thought as he looked down at her.

  But where he had expected to renew his rush of animal lust an inconvenient surge of protectiveness arose instead, confounding him. It was hardly an appropriate feeling at such a time and he sought to bury it under carnality by stooping to kiss her mouth again and the genie of desire finally escaped from its bottle.

  A little gasp escaped her as he held her much too tightly against himself, one hand grasping a buttock, the other cupping a breast, brushing its hardened nipple with his thumb. His excitement became almost uncontainable and he tried to divert himself by trying to remember the names of the local rugby team.

  He was desperate not to disgrace himself but he knew there was no way this was going to be a long, slow lovemaking. Playing for time he concerned himself with wondering if she was feeling the cold, she had posed so patiently in this badly heated room. Glad of any momentary diversion to get his imagination, and everything else, under control he led her to the fireside and gently pulled her down onto the rug.

  Then, stirring the fire into life and throwing another log onto it, he settled down beside her, caressing her body, trying to remember all the stuff he’d read with furtive prurience in the women’s magazines Jenny had brought home. He so badly wanted their first time together to be memorable for her, for both of them. Now that his vanity had entered the equation he wanted to impress her with his prowess as a lover but the responsiveness of her body to his touch overwhelmed him and all he could think of was possessing her.

  The fact that she was equally as keen as he was surprised him and it wasn’t long before he had covered her body with his own, trying to be gentle but eager to feel the heat of her enclose him. Beneath him Sunny gasped and arched her back, no longer aware of anything but this feeling of being utterly subject to another person, of the feeling of hot skin on hot skin.

  There was now absolutely no chance of Jimmy controlling the situation and it wasn’t long before he felt himself explode inside her.

  ‘Oh God! Sunny … Sunny … ’ he sobbed as the intensity of his orgasm sent his insides into spasm, unaware that he gasped her name over and over, knowing nothing but the frenzy of his climax.

  Down in Porthcarn Edward Hervey sat all night at his window overlooking the harbour, drinking glass after glass of wine until he slowly lapsed into unconsciousness and slid from his chair to lie in a pool of spilled wine.

  Chapter 14

  It was almost as if Fate, suddenly realizing her neglect, turned the full intensity of her cold gaze on the players on her stage once more. There appeared to be the danger of some of them becoming happy. Perhaps this was what offended her sense of routine disorder. It was not their time to be happy, she had not given permission. It was time for a little more tinkering in their lives.

  Jasper had soon come to the realisation he could not start his new life at the farm without first going to London to sort out both his business interests and his new status with Amanda. He was aware of a definite sinking feeling when he thought of her. He suspected dealing with relocating his business and explaining to Thierry how the business would operate from now on would be easy compared to dealing with Amanda.

  A trip to London meant he would have to return to his flat and that meant a return to living with her, for several days at least. He wondered how that would affect him ... and her. Good God, she would expect him to sleep with her! Obvious really, he was supposed to be her partner, her lover, and they had been apart for a while now. He groaned inwardly at the thought.

  He had somehow conve
niently forgotten all about that aspect of his life with her, had in fact forgotten about most of the aspects of his life with her. He had even neglected to answer the text messages she had left on his phone lately. It was a good job she was lazy or she might have come looking for him. He must tell her he was leaving her at the first available opportunity he thought now. He could guess how she would react and wondered uneasily how much it would cost him.

  Like many men he had made the mistake of thinking that beauty of face and form represented beauty of personality but it had only taken a few bouts of her petulant histrionics to cure him of this misconception. Now he could not for the life of him think why he had borne with her for so long and knew he was doing the right thing in leaving.

  The more he thought about the issues involved the more reluctant he found he was becoming to going back to his flat whilst she was there. He knew the honourable thing to do was to tell her to her face he was ending the relationship, he owed her that much. Then, with sudden relief, he realised he didn’t have to stay with her at the flat to do that, he could stay at a hotel. Once he had decided on this course, he began to feel quite a lot better about the trip.

  His other problem had been Jenny. He had been anxious about leaving her by herself at the farm as she seemed to be slowly sinking into some sort of melancholy. He knew she would return to Jimmy if he wasn’t here, simply because she wouldn’t know what else to do. Callous bugger though he was, Jasper could see that Jimmy had represented some form of stability for her for a long time now.

  No, he decided, I can’t leave her here, she must come to London with me. It seemed to him like the ideal solution. Surely a trip to the city would bring her out of her increasing tendency to lapse into long periods of distraction. He would use London to distract her from her distraction. The more he planned the more convinced he became that the trip could be good for both of them.