by Anthony Burn
Even with its entrance gap at the back, I could see the desk was large enough for four people to work comfortably inside. The computer screens shone dimly from the darkened glass surface, and I assumed they would become brighter when we worked at them. Looking again at the whole console, I could imagine it as the bridge of a spaceship. I turned to Lauren, who raised her eyebrows enquiringly, and I nodded the approval she was seeking.
The same lighting system was in use on this level, but it was augmented by the lantern and a wall of glass at the front of the building, making it even brighter up here. The inside of the granite slabs rose to about a metre above floor level, and the windows stretched to the ceiling from the top of the rock.
I hadn’t noticed when we’d entered the building, but now I could see that the top of the entrance lobby was boxed in with glass panels. From here, I could see into the porch and the busy street beyond. Three more glass plinths occupied the space inside the granite wall, and once again each was topped by a beautiful bronze sculpture.
‘I can’t believe you’ve found so much wonderful art,’ I told Lauren. ‘I haven’t seen anything I don’t like.’
‘Oh, good. I’m so pleased,’ she said. ‘I think I’m getting to know your tastes, but to be honest I didn’t choose them just for you. I totally love these artists and I’m thrilled to be representing them.’
Crossing the second bridge back towards the stairs, another question occurred to me and I looked around the room for an answer. ‘There doesn’t appear to be any access to the upper floors,’ I said.
Dan looked at Lauren, who was grinning again, and said, ‘I’ll let you show him.’
She walked to the top of the left-hand staircase and waved her phone across the end panel. There was a small click, and she pushed the section inwards to reveal another space behind the back wall. Inside, two racks contained carefully wrapped canvasses, ready to replace any that were sold, and at the far end the original staircase led up to the next floor.
The two upper floors had changed very little, apart from where the solar tubes had been boxed in and from having had a thorough cleaning.
Back down on the ground floor Dan asked if everything was okay for me, and I was more than content to give him my approval. He produced a stylus for the tablet he’d been carrying, and brought up several pages of documents for me to sign. Our business concluded, he shook hands with us and told Lauren it had been a privilege to work with her before wishing us success with our venture. I looked for tell-tale signs, but if there was something between them they were playing it very cool in front of me.
We watched him leave, and Lauren asked, ‘Are you truly happy with everything?’
‘More than I can put into words,’ I promised her. ‘You’ve done an amazing job. I could hug you right now.’
She didn’t get a chance to respond before she heard her name being called by a middle-aged couple coming through the entrance. The woman was an attractive diminutive brunette, while her husband was a tall, greying redhead with a mass of freckles covering his face and hands.
‘You must be Lauren’s dad,’ I said as I shook hands with him.
‘Brian,’ he replied. ‘How could you tell?’
‘I think it must be the sense of humour,’ I told him.
He introduced his wife as June, who said, ‘We’ve heard so much about you, Kee.’
‘Nothing good.’ Brian laughed, and I quickly warmed to him.
We continued to make small talk while the caterers brought us champagne to toast the enterprise and the achievements of their much-admired daughter. Lauren’s face coloured and she demurred at every compliment, but it was easy to tell she was elated by the deserved acknowledgement, although she didn’t have long to bask in the praise because more people had started to arrive.
Brian and June moved off to look at the rest of the gallery while we began to greet the flow of guests, attempting at the same time to conceal our amusement at the display of conspicuous astonishment as each of them took in the surroundings.
‘Did I look like that?’ I whispered to Lauren during a break in the traffic.
She laughed. ‘No, not at all. You looked much worse.’
The gallery filled swiftly and we left our stationary position to circulate separately, but as I made small talk and fielded questions I couldn’t resist scanning the room, looking for Lauren. Each time I saw her, my pulse quickened at her sensational appearance, and we traded smiles whenever she spotted me looking her way.
It was following one of these distant exchanges that a young woman named Izzy, who Lauren had previously introduced as one of her college friends, came up and clinked glasses with me. She was an attractive blonde with a nice figure, but one which might have looked better if she hadn’t squeezed it into a short tight dress. She wasn’t overweight but the little extra flesh she had was compressed into unsightly bulges by her restrictive clothing while her breasts appeared to be trying to escape from her low-cut top.
I chatted politely with her, but when I tried to move on she trailed after me. By the time I finally extricated myself from her attention, she had made it perfectly clear that she was available whenever I wanted. But as flattered as I was, I had already come to the conclusion that my only interest was in a red-haired goddess wearing a green dress.
That was going to be a problem. Our relationship had developed over the past few weeks into a deep friendship, and I had to accept that it was going to stay that way. On a few occasions, when I wasn’t convinced they lay elsewhere, I might have sensed that Lauren had feelings for me, but even if it were the case I was certain she wouldn’t act on them. Above all, she was a practical woman, and I knew that now she was working for me she wouldn’t risk a fling that could put her career in jeopardy. I just had to accept that nothing was going to happen between us. My head told me I’d simply formed an obsession, inflamed by her beguiling appearance this evening, and that I would get over it, but right now my heart was telling me that was impossible.
Eighteen
The number of guests dwindled as the evening drew to a close, and by ten-thirty we had said our goodbyes to the last of them and allowed the caterers to go home. Lauren saw them out before coming back to join me at the desk. We stood together, glowing with pride at the success of the event, and compared the wonderful comments we had each been given about both the gallery and the works of art on display. I put my arm around Lauren’s shoulders to congratulate her, and felt my heart lurch when she reciprocated by slipping hers around my waist. I gently rubbed her shoulder, stupidly expecting to be able to feel her freckles, but her skin was as smooth as the dress she was wearing. I turned to face her, intending to tell her how amazing she was for having organised everything, but I only got as far as ‘You are amazing’ when she pulled me into an embrace and kissed me.
Her mouth was soft and warm, her tongue tender as it gently probed between my lips but no further. She lingered for a few seconds before breaking away, and stared deep into my eyes. I gazed back, momentarily unable to speak, but when I finally opened my mouth I put my foot in it.
‘What about Dan?’ I asked.
She looked puzzled. ‘What about him?’
‘I thought you two had a thing going on.’
All the joy left her face. ‘With Dan? He must be about forty. He’s far too old for me! It would be like going out with my dad. And he’s married. Why would you think there was anything going on?’
I explained about seeing them hug, and some of the looks that had passed between them.
‘No. I was just being friendly. He’s been such a big help with everything.’ Her tone, which had been defensive, became irritated. ‘Anyway, if you thought that, why did you kiss me?’
‘You kissed me,’ I said.
‘You responded,’ she retorted. ‘Why would you do that if you thought I was with Dan? Are you the kind of guy who goes for what he wants and doesn’t care about other people’s relationships?’
‘No. I’m not like t
hat. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. Can we just forget it and start again?’ I bent to kiss her but she backed away.
‘I’m sorry, Kee. I’m the one who made the mistake,’ she said. ‘I like you a lot but I think we should keep this professional.’
I watched as she walked stiffly away to collect her things from the staff room. I was relieved that there was nothing between her and Dan, and I was elated that she had been eager to kiss me, but I wondered if it was just the excitement of the evening. Would she back off again if I gave it another try?
There was only one way to find out. I turned the time device a few minutes and saw her letting out the caterers before walking in my direction with a beaming smile on her face.
We repeated our previous small talk before I pulled her into an embrace. ‘You are amazing,’ I said.
She kissed me again, more passionately than the first time, and I pulled her tighter into my arms. As the kiss went on and on and my jubilation soared, I thought of all the assumptions I’d made earlier and knew I had never been happier to be proved wrong.
Our lips parted, and I felt her push away from me as she stepped back from my caress. All my fears resurfaced and I readied myself for the expression of regret, the apology for having made a mistake.
Her head tipped slightly to one side and her finger came up to her bottom lip, then in her cute childlike voice she said, ‘If I’m a good girl, can I take you home with me?’
My panic drained away and I laughed with her. ‘No, not a chance,’ I told her. ‘Not if you’re going to be a good girl.’
Her voice switched to full-on seduction. ‘No, I meant I’ll be a very good girl,’ she drawled.
‘I’ll hail us a taxi,’ I said hurriedly.
Ten minutes later I was still waiting by the roadside, searching in vain for a cab that wasn’t occupied. Lauren had changed out of her heels into a pair of trainers and had covered her dress with a long cream-coloured cotton trench coat. She was carrying a small holdall that contained her shoes and the clothes she’d been wearing earlier in the day.
As yet another taxi went past without stopping, she said, ‘It’s probably quicker by tube at this time on a Friday. Come on, Green Park is less than two minutes away, and I live right next to the station at the other end.’
I wasn’t convinced she was right about it being faster but I felt no need to argue the point, so I grabbed her bag and we rushed to the underground station, racing down the steps to the platform when we heard a train pulling in.
‘Not this one,’ she said, pulling me back from the open doors as I was about to step aboard. ‘It’s only going as far as Arnos Grove. We want the next one.’
She kept hold of my arm and led me to the front end of the platform while we waited for the next train, explaining that it would be closer to the exit when we got off. It also turned out to be less crowded in the first carriage and we were able to find seats straight away. I glanced up at the map above the opposite window, and it occurred to me that after all the time I’d known her, I still had no idea where Lauren lived. I found Arnos Grove and was surprised to see there were only three more stations beyond it.
‘How far are we going?’ I asked.
She smiled deliciously, and an impish sparkle came into her eyes before she leaned in close enough for her lips to touch my ear. ‘All the way,’ she whispered.
I kissed her cheek. ‘Sounds good to me.’
She sat back and started taking clips from her hair, dismantling the ornate wickerwork style and letting her shimmering waves fall untidily to her shoulders. ‘I’m saving time,’ she told me.
‘Good plan,’ I said.
The numbers in the carriage dwindled as we got further out of town, and when the last of our fellow passengers left the train at Southgate, we had a couple of stops alone before we reached the end of the line, by which time my desire was reaching fever pitch.
We stepped out from Cockfosters station into the chilly Barnet air and onto a busy road, even though it was getting close to midnight.
‘This way,’ Lauren said, and led me by the arm again.
She had said she lived right by the station, but it was a little further than I’d expected. We turned down a side street and into the service road that ran behind the parade of shops. I followed her up a set of stone steps to a balcony that led to her front door, and as soon as we were inside I pulled her into another embrace. She kissed me eagerly for a few seconds, and then pushed me away.
‘Give me twenty seconds to hang my dress up,’ she said, her breath shortening, ‘and then you can come and ravish me.’
Lights from passing cars penetrated the curtains, and the noise from the incessant traffic seemed to reverberate around Lauren’s room, making me speculate as to how she ever managed to sleep, but I supposed that, like the aircraft noise at my old flat in Mortlake, the brain soon filtered it out.
I lay in the semi-darkness of her bedroom with Lauren draped across my chest, tenderly kissing my neck while I caressed her soft, silky smooth back. In the lull following our exertions, I felt both intense euphoria and enormous relief.
Lauren had proved to be every bit as good a girl as she had promised. Her body was supple and sensuous, sending me into paroxysms of delight as she writhed against me. She had wrapped her legs around me, locking her ankles together and pulling me deeper into her with every thrust. Her climax had followed in direct response to mine, and she had trembled in my arms while I kissed her ecstatic face. Afterwards, we’d talked at length through a period of mutual admiration and congratulation until the exhilaration had subsided and we drifted into our current quiet, idyllic state.
My relief came from an altogether different place, and one I was glad to escape. During my months away travelling, I’d lost count of the number of sexual encounters I’d had, but it must have been getting on for twenty. It troubled me that only two of those were consensual. Following the remorse I’d felt after Harriet all those months ago, I thought I could never abuse someone like that again, but I’d been wrong. I certainly took no pride in what I was doing, but I knew that after each attack I could turn back time so that, for my victims at least, it had never happened.
It hadn’t all been guilt-free. After Harriet, the first encounter had been with the chambermaid in my hotel room. She had put up more of a fight and had continued to struggle throughout, which intensified my excitement, but still not so much that I was able to reach a climax without having to use my fist. I felt ashamed of myself for some time but in due course the feeling faded, partly because I didn’t know this woman personally, and partly because she continued to greet me with a radiant smile each time I saw her afterwards.
The only other time I felt a twinge of conscience was on Christmas Day, when I repaid the kindness of the family on the beach by raping their eighteen-year-old daughter. The opportunity had arisen in the middle of the afternoon, when I’d gone back to my hotel to buy more drinks for us all and she’d come to help carry them. By the time we got back, as far as she was concerned, we’d been gone just a few minutes and nothing had happened to her. We had finished the day with me being hailed as a family friend, and with an offer to stay with them if and when I returned.
Of the two women who had slept with me willingly, neither turned out to be a candidate for a long-term relationship. One was obviously a money-grabber, having worked out from where I was staying that I was a good prospect. The other was the bored housewife of one of my new friends, who had no intention of breaking up her marriage but wasn’t averse to a little fun on the side. While the sex had been better with these two because they were enjoying it, neither had excited me enough to get fully aroused without hitting them, and because of that I’d still needed to use the device to undo the entire encounters.
As my guilt decreased and the violations became prosaic, the violence needed for me to reach satisfaction increased steadily. Despite what I was doing, I knew I would never leave anybody permanently harmed. While none of my victims had a mar
k on them after I used the time device, my knuckles were becoming noticeably bruised and sore.
That wasn’t what had caused me stop what I was doing though. It came as quite a surprise to find I was getting bored with it. The activity was satisfying my sexual cravings, but with no reciprocation from the women it became little more gratifying than masturbation. What troubled me more was that with my increasingly pugilistic needs for release, I might never again be able to have normal healthy relations with a woman. I’d abstained in the hope that, with time, the need to use my fist would disappear.
Lauren had emphatically proved that to be the case, and I rejoiced that I would not need the time device to undo any damage, and also that I finally understood: it was an emotional connection that had been missing in all the previous encounters. I had stronger feelings for Lauren than I’d ever felt for anyone, and I was sure it was those that had allowed me to become human again. I’d never been fully comfortable with what I’d been doing, and I knew I would never have done it if I’d been unable to take it back. The reassurance of knowing that those days were behind me was almost as immense as my adoration for the woman who had cured me.
I noticed that Lauren had stopped kissing me and was lying still, her breathing even. I assumed she had fallen asleep – just as I was getting hard again. The last thing I wanted to do was to spoil what had been a beautiful experience by waking her up and forcing her into a second round if she didn’t want it. I imagined using the time turner to start again from the beginning, but it would mean disturbing her in order to reach my pocket, which was somewhere on the far side of the room.
It turned out to be unnecessary. I gently kissed the top of her head and immediately felt her hand slide down to the top of my legs.
‘Oh, goody. I thought you’d fallen asleep,’ she said, ‘but it feels like you’re ready for some more.’
Her lips met mine while she stroked me softly, making me harder than ever, before she slowly kissed her way down my body.