by Susan Lewis
‘Actually, I’ll wait outside,’ Annabelle interrupted. ‘He should be here any minute. They said he was on this side of Bruton when I went over there,’ and rearranging an odd bundle of straw across her arm she left the shop.
As soon as she was out of earshot Annabelle pressed Georgie’s number into her mobile phone. ‘Hi, it’s me again,’ she hissed. ‘Is Melody with you yet?’
‘Yeah, she’s in the shower.’
‘Go and tell her she’s got to invite Simon Forsey tonight.’
‘Hang on, she’s just come out.’ Annabelle listened as Georgie relayed the message. Coming back on the line, Georgie said, ‘She wants to know why you can’t do it yourself?’
‘Because she’s the one he’s got the hots for, and he’s with Nat at the cricket, so if he comes, Nat might too.’
Georgie passed it on, then came back with, ‘She says she’ll do it, but only if you back off Theo tonight.’
‘It’s a deal. Tell her to do it now, and call me back when she knows what’s happening. My taxi’s here, so I should be there in less than ten minutes. I don’t have any money though, so you’ll have to lend me some until Robert gets back. The she-devil’s not in a very good mood with me at the moment.’
Chapter Nine
‘I just don’t know what to do with her,’ Sabrina was saying to June later that evening. ‘She didn’t exactly hit me, but the way she’s behaving lately, I wouldn’t put it past her.’
June smiled at the waiter as he refilled their glasses. ‘I’m so glad I had boys,’ she remarked unhelpfully, ‘everyone knows girls are always the worst.’
Sabrina’s lips tightened. ‘Tell that to Brenda Loveday whose sixteen-year-old is dossing in doorways, saying it’s better than living at home,’ she retorted.
‘Mm, point taken,’ June conceded. ‘So where’s Annabelle now?’
‘I don’t know. At this party, I suppose. She’s not answering her phone, at least not to me. Honestly, I’ve never felt so angry, or helpless. She does exactly what she wants, speaks to me like I’m an idiot, or dirt, and seems to have given up altogether on even trying to be pleasant. I’m getting to the point where I don’t actually like her very much, which is a horrible thing to say about your own daughter.’
‘Believe me, you’re not alone,’ June assured her, wondering if Sabrina really didn’t know why Annabelle was turning out the way she was, or if she was simply blocking it, not wanting to accept that she might be responsible. ‘So what was the row about?’ she asked.
Sabrina sighed and picked up her wine. ‘It started when I asked her if she was still a virgin.’
June’s eyebrows rose. ‘Yes, that would do it,’ she remarked. ‘And is she?’
‘God knows, apparently it’s none of my business.’
‘Which means she probably isn’t?’
Sabrina shook her head glumly. ‘I’ve seen the way she looks at boys, at men even. She’s like someone twice her age the way she turns it on.’ With a brief spark of humour she added, ‘I can’t think where she gets it from.’
June laughed. ‘Having the world’s most accomplished flirt as a mother is bound to rub off,’ she teased.
Sabrina grimaced. ‘That’s not how I feel at the moment,’ she sighed. ‘Far from it, in fact. She takes it out of me, and lately I just can’t stop thinking about Craig, which is really bringing me down …’ Her eyes fell to her glass as the flutterings of heartache began again. ‘Anyway, if Annabelle was just flirting it wouldn’t be a problem, but if she is going all the way I need to know that she’s at least using some sort of protection.’
Not, ‘I should put a stop to it,’ June was thinking, because Sabrina wasn’t really engaging with the problem. She was simply going through the motions of what she felt ought to be said, and because she was so distracted by Craig, and Alicia, she wasn’t really getting it right.
‘It’s the diseases that worry me more than the pregnancies,’ Sabrina went on, ‘but I just can’t seem to get through to her.’
No, I don’t suppose you can, June thought with an inward sigh. ‘Well, that’s teenagers for you,’ she said. ‘How’s Robert getting on with her these days? They always used to have a pretty good relationship. Maybe he can do something to haul her back on track.’
Sabrina was shaking her head. ‘He tries, but he’s away such a lot that they hardly see one another, and when they do, I don’t want to destroy what little connection they still have by asking him to come in with a heavy hand. He’s not her father and she’d probably wouldn’t think twice about throwing that in his face if he tried laying down the law.’
June wasn’t without sympathy for how Sabrina was feeling, she just knew it was better not expressed too readily, or Sabrina would be likely to fall into yet another decline over Craig. ‘It’s a shame you didn’t let Robert adopt her when he offered to,’ she commented.
Sabrina’s smile was weak. ‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘but at the time I was still thinking, hoping, that Craig and I …’ She waved a hand as though to dismiss the next words. ‘If Robert had been Annabelle’s legal father it might have made a divorce more difficult. And if I asked him to take her on now he’d probably think it was because Craig’s death had done what nothing else could, made me accept at last that we’ll never be together.’
‘Mm,’ June murmured, understanding the dilemma, and wondering if Sabrina had actually accepted the finality of the situation yet.
‘I know it’s crazy,’ Sabrina said shakily, ‘but I still keep thinking he’s going to call, or even walk into the room. I just can’t seem to make myself believe that he’s really gone.’
‘It’s often like that when you first lose someone you love,’ June assured her gently.
‘We used to talk all the time about the house we were going to buy in Italy,’ Sabrina rambled on, ‘somewhere close to the one we were all staying at when we first realised how we felt about one another. It would be like going back to the beginning, he used to say, and doing it all the way we wanted, without the complications of Robert and Alicia forcing us to hide how we felt.’
Having heard all this before, June simply smiled and carried on listening like the dutiful friend she was, having no idea how much of it was a fantasy and how much truth. She only knew how capable everyone was of conjuring an idealised picture, and airbrushing out all the imperfections that would spoil the memory. In the end, she said, ‘I’m sorry you’re feeling so low tonight. I wish there was something I could say, or do, to make you feel better.’
Sabrina sighed unhappily. ‘I’m OK,’ she insisted. ‘It’s the business with Annabelle that really dragged me down, and having my sister-in-law in the vicinity is making everything ten times worse, but actually, I did receive some good news today. Jennifer Bingleigh called to invite us to her villa on the Cap again this year. Robert was thrilled when I told him. He needs a holiday. We both do.’
Fighting back her envy, June said, ‘Lucky you. Will Annabelle go too?’
‘Of course. I can’t leave her here, and who knows, maybe spending some time together away from all her friends, and in that lovely setting, will help us to get over this bad patch.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘How about you?’ she said. ‘Do you have any plans for a holiday yet?’
‘Nothing so glam, because sadly, singles like me don’t get invitations to luxury villas on the Cap d’Antibes, so I’ll probably go and spend a week with my sister in Ireland again.’
Sabrina shook her head in despair. ‘We really do have to do something about finding you a man,’ she said decisively. ‘You can’t go on the way you are, it’s intolerable. Maybe we should start running a lonely hearts column in The Buzz, that way you can have first pick.’
June smiled. ‘I think you’ll find Mr Right or Sir Perfect in Every Way don’t need to advertise for women, and even if they do, they don’t want someone my age. Speaking of The Buzz, however, I take it there’s been no reaction to your piece about tourism in Holly Wood.’
Sabrina shoo
k her head. ‘Not from her, but a couple of people have approached me expressing concern about the possibility of strangers with video cameras and take-out coffees turning up on their doorsteps. There’s a parish council meeting next Tuesday. If I can get my fellow members to sign a petition saying we don’t want the shop, then we can send it to the district council before they make a decision about issuing a permit, because she’s sure to have applied for one by now.’
June was about to respond when a voice beside them said, ‘Sabrina? I’m sorry, I hope we’re not interrupting.’
Sabrina looked up, and her spirits sank even lower when she saw Clarissa Booth, who lived in one of the larger houses on the new estate, smiling down at her.
‘It’s such good fortune running into you like this,’ Clarissa told her, while her nasty-looking spouse nodded and ogled Sabrina in a way that made her want to wipe her skin clean. ‘We’re having a little get-together next Saturday, just a select few, if you know what I mean, and we’d absolutely love it if you could come.’
Sabrina’s eyes turned so chill that the woman’s smile started to fade. ‘I’m afraid I’m not free next Saturday,’ Sabrina lied. ‘Or any other Saturday, actually,’ she added meaningfully.
Clarissa drew back. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said, reddening to the roots of her dark wavy hair. ‘I’m sorry to have bothered you,’ and taking her husband’s arm she quickly bustled him away.
‘That was a bit harsh,’ June commented, watching them go.
‘They’re swingers,’ Sabrina hissed. ‘They wanted me to go and throw my keys in the pot and very possibly spend the night with that disgusting specimen of humanity she was with. Ugh,’ she shuddered, as her skin crawled again. ‘Of all the damned nerve. How dare she think I’d be interested in her little parties?’
‘Ah, but the question is,’ June said thoughtfully, ‘is either of them on the parish council?’
Sabrina’s eyes widened with horror, then for the first time that evening she found herself starting to laugh. ‘Thank God no,’ she said, and summoning the waiter she ordered a second bottle of wine.
‘Give me some of that,’ Annabelle cried, grabbing a bottle of cider as it sailed past on its way from Georgie to Catrina.
‘Don’t drink it all,’ Catrina protested, as Annabelle swigged it back.
‘OMG, this is so amazing,’ Annabelle gasped excitedly. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this. Are there any girls out there yet?’
Georgie peered round the curtains to check. Though Theo and his friends numbered at least fifteen milling about the pool in shorts and flip-flops, so far there was no sign of any girls.
‘You don’t think we’re the only ones invited, do you?’ Catrina wondered anxiously, ‘because there’s only, one, two three, four… Eight of us, and look how many there are of them.’
‘By my reckoning that gives us about two each,’ Melody quipped. ‘I’m having Theo tonight,’ she fired at Annabelle. ‘Remember?’
‘Simon Forsey just better turn up,’ Annabelle warned. ‘With Nat.’
‘Katie, will you hurry up with that joint,’ Georgie pressed. ‘We’re gasping over here.’
‘Does anyone know if Theo got those Es?’ Catrina said seriously. ‘We need them right now. Someone should go out there and get them.’
‘I don’t know what we’re all getting so worked up about,’ Melody stated. ‘It’s not like we don’t know them, or they haven’t seen our boobs before. So come on, let’s stop hanging around in here like a bunch of virgins, when we all know none of us are, and act like grown-ups.’
‘Great, then you go first,’ Georgie told her.
‘No way,’ Melody retorted, shrinking back.
‘Well, someone has to.’
‘We can all go together,’ Catrina piped up.
‘No, I reckon Annabelle should go first,’ Melody decided.
Annabelle looked startled, and a little uncertain.
‘Go on. You’re not scared,’ Melody told her.
‘Of course she isn’t,’ Georgie confirmed. ‘Go on, Annabelle.’
‘Yeah, you definitely should be first,’ Catrina agreed. ‘You look fantastic in that skirt. That was such a neat idea. Wish I’d thought of it.’
‘You’re fine in those shorts,’ Annabelle reassured her. ‘It’s what everyone else is wearing, except Georgie in her naughty little ra-ra skirt. What have you got under there, Georgie?’ she teased, trying to pull it up.
‘That’s for me to know and someone else to find out,’ Georgie countered, slapping her away, ‘so keep your hands to yourself.’
‘Oh God, I love this song,’ Katie moaned, as Adele’s ‘Chasing Pavements’ started to play. ‘Come on, let’s go dance. Annabelle, lead the way.’
‘OK, this is it,’ Annabelle announced, and once the others were crowded like a faithful retinue behind her she stepped out on to the twilit terrace, her young, naked breasts with their large dark nipples peeking mischievously through the silky veil of her long hair. She was Cleopatra presenting herself to Mark Antony; the Queen of Sheba bearing gifts to Solomon; Kate Moss on a catwalk with the whole world drooling over her magnificence.
It took only a moment for the boys to realise the female contingent had finally arrived, and as they turned to watch the sensational spectacle of eight topless babes approaching they started to whistle and cheer and slap one another on the back as though congratulating themselves for such a great idea. Loving the attention, Annabelle sauntered on ahead, tossing one side of her hair back over one shoulder, and then the rest over the other, so her breasts were completely revealed. The next minute she was in the middle of the throng having drinks and Es thrust at her, while some of the girls leapt into the pool, quickly followed by a handful of boys, and others giggled and squealed as they struck poses for the cameras Carl and Kennedy had brought with them.
‘How about I mow your lawn?’ Theo murmured in Annabelle’s ear.
Treating him to a sultry look she said, ‘The skirt stays on.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ he smiled, and closing in on her he pushed his tongue deep into her mouth.
‘Ahem,’ Melody coughed, behind them.
Annabelle turned round, and smiling sweetly said, ‘Maybe later, Theo.’ Drifting away she left Melody to it, and went to find more E.
An hour later, as the sun vanished over the distant hills and the garden lights came on, Annabelle was sprawled out on a swinging hammock chair loving the world, her friends, this party, her life, even her mother. Everything was so wonderful and gorgeous and perfect that she wanted to pour endless amounts of love over everyone and make them all feel as happy and chilled as she did. Her smile was beatific, her eyes dreamy and blurred; she wanted to go on lying here for ever, wearing her grass skirt and nothing else, letting the fronds part around her thighs, trickling a hand lightly over her bare breasts unless someone was there to do it for her.
Carl had been lying with her, but he’d gone to get more drinks a while ago and hadn’t come back yet. She could hear someone splashing about in the pool, and a couple nearby making out on the grass. The music was like light pouring itself into her, filling her with sounds that made her want to dance like an angel. She could fly around the garden, up over the trees and away into heaven.
She turned her head to one side and saw Georgie, her best friend in the entire universe, swaying towards her. Georgie’s skirt had gone, she was wearing only a bikini bottom now, and carrying an alcopop and a fat, half-smoked spliff.
‘Hey,’ Georgie slurred, rolling around the bars of the hammock and almost staggering into it. ‘You’ll never guess who’s just turned up.’
‘Tell me,’ Annabelle murmured, holding out a hand to take the drink.
‘Simon Forsey,’ Georgie announced, hiccuping as she passed it over. ‘And guess who’s with him?’
‘OMG,’ Annabelle drawled, ‘are you serious? Where is he? Tell him he has to come here because I love him.’
Georgie drew deeply on the joint
, then held it out for Annabelle to take. Annabelle put it between her lips, but then her hand fell away and flopped to the ground.
Dropping to her knees Georgie retrieved the spliff, staggered back to her feet and began weaving her way across the lawn towards the vegetable garden.
Annabelle remained adrift on another plain, inhaling deeply and moaning with pleasure as she let the air go. Nat was here, gorgeous, wonderful Nat whom she’d been mad about for ever and wanted to love and love and love and then love some more.
At the other side of the pool where the drinks were set up, Nat and Simon were holding beers and surveying the improbable scene around them. The moonlight was making it seem even more surreal, as though it were a painting of a lewd bacchanal, occasionally stirring into life. Clearly everyone was stoned, or wasted, or both. A couple close by were smooching drowsily to a techno beat, a naked girl was floating like a starfish in the middle of the pool, others were lying around on loungers, or spread out on the grass.
‘Hey,’ a semi-naked Melody purred, coming up to them, ‘this is a topless party. You’re not supposed to be wearing shirts.’
Simon grinned and gazed into her eyes, not quite having the courage yet to look where he really wanted to. He was as tall and athletic as Nat, but much fairer, and not quite as good-looking. ‘I think that can be remedied,’ he replied, and putting down his beer he hiked his T-shirt over his head.
‘Mm,’ she murmured approvingly. ‘You too,’ she said to Nat.
‘I’m good,’ he said, raising his bottle as though she’d offered him a drink.
Unperturbed, she turned back to Simon. ‘So you came,’ she said.
‘Looks like it,’ he replied. His eyes stayed on hers as he took a sip of his drink. ‘You’ve got great tits,’ he told her.
Nat gave a splutter of laughter, and turned aside.
‘Thank you,’ she said playfully, and taking Simon’s hand she started to lead him away. ‘Come on, let’s get to know one another a little better,’ she murmured.