by Jill Mansell
‘So why should I stop?’ Lucas paused, but his hand continued to stroke her face. ‘Unless of course you don’t want anything to happen.’
What? Was he serious?
Hester lifted her head slowly away from his chest.
‘You were the one who didn’t want to, last time.’
He shrugged.
‘That was then. This is now.’
Ohmygod, thought Hester, every nerve ending in her body jumping up and down and squealing like a teenager. Ohmygod, ohmygod, whaaaah!
‘Don’t read too much into this, okay?’ Lucas murmured the words against her ear, his mouth sending her body haywire. ‘You know me, Hess. All that lovey-dovey stuff isn’t my thing. But hey, there’s more to life than relationships. What you need right now is some serious cheering up, and I know just the way to do it.’
‘Oh yes,’ Hester whispered as he pressed the length of his hard, muscled body against her, then masterfully swept her up into his arms, just like Richard Gere. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’
Hester lay back on the bed amongst the tangle of sheets, panting for breath. It had happened, the miracle she had been yearning for all these years. It had actually happened at last.
She still couldn’t believe it.
Tilting her head to one side and shaking her hair out of her eyes, Hester glanced at the alarm clock for confirmation. When Lucas had swept her off her feet and up the stairs she had noticed the time— 10:07 p.m.—and known then that she would never forget it. After all, this was a momentous occasion. When you’d dreamed about something for as long as she’d been dreaming about this, you wanted to remember every last tiny detail.
And yes, there it was, just as she had suspected. The hands of her clock, arranged in a perfect V-shape. The time was now 10:10 p.m.
They had been in bed together for, ooh, all of three minutes.
No wonder she was in a daze. Since carrying her into the bedroom Lucas had stripped naked, launched himself at her, had sex, and then rolled over with a groan of contentment.
In one hundred and eighty seconds flat.
Oh, and he had told her she was great.
Unbelievable.
Hester, gazing up at the ceiling, wondered if this was how it felt to have your handbag snatched in the street. A flurry of activity catching you by surprise, then before you knew what was going on, it was all over. Your mugger was pelting hell for leather up the pavement, leaving you wondering what the hell that had been all about.
Except Lucas, her own personal mugger, wasn’t pelting anywhere. He was right next to her, sprawled face-down across three quarters of the bed.
Snoring.
Too stunned to laugh, Hester replayed every moment in her brain in case she had somehow managed to miss a bit. Like when you settled down to watch a film and the next thing you knew you were waking up two hours later with the credits scrolling up the screen.
But that hadn’t happened. There were no excuses. Three minutes had been the sum of it, from start to finish.
And it hadn’t just been mind-bogglingly speedy either. It had been so… so bad. So unskilled, so completely lacking in prowess. Okay, Lucas might possess the necessary equipment, but he didn’t have the foggiest idea how to use it. He’d been clumsy, jerky, and uncoordinated. As incompetent as a frenzied fourteen-year-old, marveled Hester, spectacularly lacking in both rhythm and finesse.
There was no getting away from the truth, however hard it was to comprehend. For all his sex appeal and reputation as a Lothario, the fact of the matter was that Lucas Kemp was completely hopeless in bed.
A huge snore shook his sleeping frame, a grunting snore loud enough to wake the neighbors. It was an ugly, piggy snort, so repulsive and undignified it was embarrassing. Hester jammed her elbow into his ribs and he let out a groan of protest.
‘Wha? Whassa matter?’
‘You’re snoring.’
Like a big fat hog.
‘Oh. Sorry.’ Shaking his head and blearily opening his eyes as if he’d been asleep for hours, Lucas broke into a lazy, self-satisfied smile. ‘Hey, that was brilliant. You were sensational, Hess. God, I’m shattered. What’s the time?’
Pointedly, Hester said, ‘Twelve minutes past ten.’
‘Yeah? Just as well you woke me up, I’d better be making a move.’ Yawning, he hauled himself out of bed and reached for his Richard Gere suit. ‘I really enjoyed that. We must do it again some time.’
Not on your life, thought Hester. But he had been so kind to her earlier, she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. Instead, smiling slightly, she pulled the duvet further over herself and watched Lucas climb back into the clothes he had discarded at such lightning speed less than ten minutes ago.
‘Um, yes. We must.’
Fully dressed once more, Lucas bent over the bed and planted a brief kiss on her forehead.
‘Bye, sweetheart. You were fantastic.’
‘Thanks.’ Hester fought a wild urge to giggle.
‘Was it good for you too?’ Lucas was looking ridiculously pleased with himself.
‘Oh yes. Definitely.’ Hester somehow managed to nod and keep a straight face. Truthfully, she added, ‘It was perfect for me.’
‘No!’ gasped Millie, totally agog. ‘I don’t believe it! Not Lucas. Surely not Lucas.’
‘I’m telling the truth, the whole truth, I swear.’ Hester, sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, shook her head. ‘I can still hardly believe it myself.’
Millie was so stunned she didn’t even notice the dunked end of her chocolate biscuit splash into her mug of tea. When she’d walked through the front door at eleven o’clock she definitely hadn’t been expecting this.
To be on the safe side she said, ‘Are you sure you didn’t dream the whole thing?’
‘I tried wondering that. I wish I had dreamed it. Millie, three minutes.’ Starting to giggle, Hester said, ‘I bet this didn’t happen to Debra Winger in An Officer and a Gentleman.’
‘What a letdown. Who’d have thought it?’ Millie marveled. ‘Lucas Kemp, rubbish in bed.’
‘Major rubbish. All this time I thought he was such a sex god. And he’s useless, a total fraud! What I really don’t understand is how he’s managed to get away with it for so long.’
‘Then again,’ Millie pointed out, ‘you don’t actually know anyone who has slept with him.’
‘True.’
‘And you didn’t tell him he was a disaster.’
Hester pulled a face.
‘I couldn’t. Poor Lucas, he thinks he’s terrific. How could I shatter his illusions after he’d been so nice to me? That would be like telling a five-year-old the painting he’d just done for you was rubbish. I couldn’t be that cruel.’
Millie looked at her.
‘You know, I thought you’d be more upset than this.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Leaning across, Hester helped herself to another biscuit. ‘It’s the best thing that could have happened. I’m cured, don’t you see? There’s no need to lust after Lucas anymore. I can get on with the rest of my life. I’m free.’
Well, that was a relief.
‘And Nat?’
‘Oh well, I’m still upset about Nat. Of course I am. But that all came about because he was convinced I’d slept with someone else. And I knew I hadn’t.’ She shrugged and said, ‘That’s what got to me more than anything, being found guilty when I knew I was innocent.’
‘So having sex with Lucas actually helped?’
‘God, yes. At least now when Nat finally finishes with me I’ll know I’ve done something to deserve it.’
‘Oh well,’ said Millie, lifting her cup and clanking it against Hester’s, ‘in that case, cheers. Here’s to Lucas.’
Chapter 39
‘It’s your mother,’ Lloyd Brady said with a sigh.
Millie had wondered why she had been invited over to join him and Judy for lunch.
‘What’s the problem?’
‘You mean apart from the fact that she’s still here?�
� Lloyd raised his eyebrows in despair. ‘A few days, she said. And it’s already been a month. It’s like being married to the bloody woman all over again!’
‘Well, I did warn you.’ Millie was sympathetic, but not that sympathetic. ‘You should never have agreed to let her stay in the first place. That smells gorgeous.’ She beamed up at Judy as a huge plate of shepherd’s pie was laid in front of her. ‘Can’t you just tell her she has to go?’
‘I tried that. She laughed and told me not to be so silly.’ Lloyd heaved another sigh as he piled broad beans and baby carrots on to his own plate. ‘She said how could she possibly leave while she was having so much fun.’
Millie looked astonished.
‘Your mum’s got herself a gentleman friend,’ Judy explained.
‘What? You’re kidding! Is it serious?’
‘Who can tell? She spends hours on the phone, giggling like a teenager. And most evenings she slopes off with him.’
Neither of them were looking thrilled.
‘But that’s great,’ Millie protested. ‘Isn’t it? This is what she’s been so desperate for, all these years. If she’s finally found someone she really likes, it has to be brilliant news!’ Eagerly she leaned forwards. ‘Come on now, tell me everything about him. What’s he like?’
Lloyd and Judy exchanged glances.
‘We don’t know what he’s like,’ said Lloyd, ‘because we haven’t met him. And it might not be brilliant news either.’
‘Why on earth not?’
‘We think he’s married,’ Judy said bluntly.
‘What?’
‘He has to be. It’s the only explanation.’ Lloyd shrugged. ‘Why else would she be so secretive?’
‘Oh God,’ wailed Millie, her hopes dashed. ‘This is all we need. My mother’s turned into a marriage-wrecking hussy and it’s all going to end in tears. How could she do something so stupid? More to the point,’ Millie squeaked, ‘how could she be so embarrassing!’
‘I’m sorry, darling.’ Lloyd gave the back of her hand a consoling pat. ‘But we thought you ought to know. And maybe you could have a word with her. Find out a bit more about this fellow of hers, see if you can’t persuade her to see sense.’
‘Get out of it while she still can,’ Judy chimed in teasingly, ‘make a clean break, maybe catch the next train back to London.’
‘You want me to do your dirty work? You pair of cowards!’ Despite everything, Millie started to laugh. ‘Why can’t you tell her?’
‘Since when did an ex-wife take a blind bit of notice of her ex-husband?’ said Lloyd with a grin. ‘The last thing Adele’s going to do is listen to my advice and say, “You know, darling, you’re absolutely right.” But you’re her daughter,’ he reminded Millie.
‘Ha. For my sins.’
‘She’s far more likely to listen to you.’
‘Now you’re really clutching at straws,’ Millie warned.
‘Well. Worth a try, eh?’
‘Oh, no question. Tell you what, I’ll buy a lottery ticket as well. There’s more chance of winning the jackpot than there is of persuading my mother to see sense.’
‘Leave the poor girl alone,’ Judy scolded. ‘You aren’t even giving her a chance to eat. Besides, there’s something else I want to ask her about.’
Millie, busy tucking into possibly the best shepherd’s pie in the world, said, ‘What’s that then?’
‘Your own love life, of course. I’m dying to hear about all the thrilling things that have been happening to you!’
‘Oh no, that’s not fair.’ Millie flung her arms possessively around her plate. ‘I have no love life. Promise me you won’t take my food away.’
‘Sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Of course I’m not seeing a married man!’
Adele was looking so outraged that Millie knew at once she was lying. But then again, had she seriously expected any other kind of response? Confession and remorse had never been her mother’s thing.
Oh well, all she had to do was say her piece.
‘So why haven’t you introduced him to anyone?’
‘Like your father and Judy, you mean?’ Adele’s laugh tinkled like a chandelier in the breeze. ‘Why on earth should I? Is it so wrong to want a bit of privacy?’
‘I’d like to meet him,’ said Millie.
‘Well you can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Excuse me?’ Adele raised her plucked eyebrows at the ridiculousness of the question. ‘Because you’d probably start lecturing him.’
‘So he is married.’
‘Millie, you’re in danger of becoming very boring.’
‘I just don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘Oh poppycock, I’m not going to get hurt! I’ve never been happier in my life.’
‘But Mum, do you seriously imagine he’ll leave his wife?’ ‘I’m not answering that. You’re my daughter, for heaven’s sake. Could we please change the subject?’
‘Okay. Dad was wondering how much longer you were going to be staying down here.’
‘Really? Well, you can tell your father it’s none of his business.’
‘Mother!’ Exasperated, Millie said, ‘You’re living in his house!’
‘And why shouldn’t I? He deserves it. What you don’t seem to realize, Millie, is that this is exactly why I divorced him in the first place.’ Sorrowfully, Adele shook her head. ‘That father of yours is just plain selfish.’
‘They really suit you,’ lied Hester, angling the mirror so the pimply teenager could get a better view of herself. Holding the sequin-and-feather earrings up to her ears she swung her pudgy neck this way and that.
‘They really look great,’ Hester assured her. ‘Not everyone can get away with earrings like that.’ But those red sequins exactly match your spots, she didn’t add.
Not out loud, anyway. Thinking up mean insults was pretty much all that kept her going these days. It was one of the few— pathetically few—remaining pleasures in her life.
‘I can’t decide.’ The girl studied her reflection, then gazed longingly at the other pair she had picked out. ‘I love those ones with the yellow beads as well.’
Ah, the yellow beads that go so well with your yellow teeth, thought Hester with an encouraging smile. Oh God, what’s the matter with me? I’m turning into a nasty, mean, spiteful witch! At this rate I may never be able to think nice things about anyone ever again. By this time next week I’ll be reduced to yelling obscenities at complete strangers in the street.
‘I tell you what.’ Ashamed of herself for being so horrible, Hester said, ‘They’re seven pounds a pair, but you can have both pairs for a tenner.’
‘Really?’ The girl’s plump chin quivered with delight.
‘Really. When you go out tonight you’ll knock the boys dead.’ This time Hester’s smile was genuine. See? I can still be nice when I want to be.
‘It’s my birthday today.’ Overcoming her shyness, the girl confided happily, ‘I’m having a party. There’s this boy I’ve invited… he’s so cool…’
How old was she? Sixteen, Hester guessed. Maybe seventeen. At that age she hadn’t exactly been Claudia Schiffer herself but it hadn’t stopped her chasing after Lucas with all the energy of a Energizer bunny.
‘Have a brilliant time,’ she told the girl as she wrapped up the earrings, ‘and I hope things work out with this boy of yours.’
Take my advice, she added silently, and find out what he’s like now. For God’s sake don’t waste the next ten years lusting after someone who shags like Mr. Bean. Because by the time you’ve actually made this earth-shattering discovery, you could have messed up your whole life.
Danielle was busy pulling a face at the back of a potential punter as he moved away from her stall without buying so much as a single candle. ‘Miserable git,’ she jeered when he was out of earshot. ‘I hope all his hair falls out. And you’re going soft in your old age. That girl would have bought both pairs anyway,’ she went on, t
earing the cellophane on her packet of Chelsea buns. ‘You just did yourself out of four quid. Here, catch.’
Hester caught the Chelsea bun.
‘I was just seeing if I could still be nice.’
‘And that’s the way you go about being nice?’ Danielle tut-tutted. ‘Try feeding stale bread to the ducks next time. It’s cheaper.’
‘I wanted to be nice to a person. I thought it might cheer me up.’ Miserably, Hester bit into the Chelsea bun, giving herself a confectioner’s sugar moustache in the process.
‘In that case, throw stale bread at me.’ Danielle made swimming movements with her hands and loud quacking noises. ‘Go on, try me. Bet you I can catch it in my beak.’
Hester began to feel a bit less miserable. Tearing off a corner of Chelsea bun, she lobbed it at Danielle, who leapt off her stool and almost managed to get her mouth to it.
‘Quack, bugger! That was so close. Do it again!’
This time the chunk of bun sailed over Danielle’s head and bounced off a large silver candle carved into the shape of St. Michael’s Mount.
‘My turn!’ Hester scrambled eagerly to her feet, bracing herself like a goalkeeper facing a penalty shoot-out. ‘Let me have a go.’
‘Only if you honk like a goose,’ Danielle demanded.
‘Honk! Honk! HONNKKK!’ bellowed Hester, flapping her wings and waggling her tail. Nodding with approval, Danielle ripped off another bit of bun, took careful aim, and…
‘MMPHHH!’ Punching the air with delight, Hester did an ecstatic little dance on the spot. Half the bun was sticking out of her mouth and there was confectioner’s sugar all over her face but she just didn’t care, because she’d caught the bun first go, she’d leapt at it like a gazelle…
After all these years, I’ve finally found something I’m really, really good at!
‘She did it,’ Danielle whooped, equally thrilled, ‘She actually did it! Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for—’
Hester gave her an encouraging nod. Why had she stopped? Had she forgotten her name? To help Danielle over her embarrassing memory lapse, she hurriedly removed the wodge of bun from her mouth, spread her arms wide, and declaimed, ‘A huge round of applause, please, for… me!’