by Lynne Shelby
‘Of course,’ Michael said. ‘You can crash on our sofa tonight, if you like.’
After a short hiatus while we all hugged and air-kissed in true showbiz fashion, Michael and Annette, and Owen went out to their minicab. I waved them off, and re-joined the others at the kitchen table. Cassie and Ryan, who were openly yawning, drained their coffee mugs, said goodnight, and went to bed.
‘Alone at last,’ Daniel said.
In one sinuous movement, he sprang to his feet and pulled me off my chair. He grasped my upper arms and kissed me roughly, grinding his pelvis against mine, letting me feel how hard he was, how much he wanted me. A jolt of desire raced through me, and I kissed him back, my tongue in his mouth. His hands slid down my body, and under my dress to caress my bare legs. Then he was hiking my dress up to my waist and tearing off my underwear, and I was unzipping his flies and tugging his jeans and boxers down over his hips.
He lifted me up and backed me onto the kitchen table, my arms around his neck, his hands under my thighs. There was a crash as a coffee mug fell off the table and shattered on the tiled floor. I wrapped my legs around him and he rammed himself inside me, in and out, hard and fast. I clung to him, abandoning myself to the intensity of sensations surging through my body, gasping and crying out as the torrent of passion crested and broke. He thrust into me more deeply, once, twice, and then he moaned, and his whole body shuddered and jerked as he pulled out of me and I felt him come, warm and wet on my thigh.
For a while we held each other as the beating of our hearts slowed and our breathing returned to normal. Then he stepped away from me and zipped up his jeans. I became aware that the edge of the kitchen table was digging uncomfortably into my backside and held out my hand so that he could help me to my feet.
I thought, we’ve just had sex on Cassie’s kitchen table. Aloud I said, ‘I can’t believe what we just did.’
‘It’s OK, babe,’ Daniel said. ‘I was careful.’ With a flourish, he handed me a kitchen towel.
I thought, I’ve had sex with Daniel on Cassie’s kitchen table, and we didn’t use a condom.
‘I wasn’t talking about that,’ I said. I cleaned myself up. ‘We’re in the kitchen. Anyone could have come in.’
‘Like who?’ Daniel said. ‘Cassie and Ryan are asleep and Nadia’s out.’ With a leer, he added. ‘Once I’ve moved into my new house, I intend to have you in every room.’
‘But this is Cassie’s house. She eats at that table. We all do.’
‘Yeah, next time we sit down to dinner together, all you and I are going to be thinking about is the incredible sex we had tonight.’
I couldn’t help smiling. ‘It was pretty incredible. You should put ‘sex’ under ‘special skills’ on your CV.’
‘I might just do that. Now come to bed.’ I raised my eyebrows.
‘Come to bed to sleep, Lucy. Don’t tell the press, but I’m really not capable of a repeat performance right now.’
‘You go on up. I’ll follow you as soon as I’ve hidden the evidence of our incredible sex life.’ I gestured at the pieces of broken coffee mug. Although I’d been living in Cassie’s house for almost ten months, I still felt slovenly if I left the kitchen in a state overnight for Erin the housekeeper to deal with in the morning.
‘Don’t be long. By the way – your knickers are over there by the door.’ Looking very pleased with himself, Daniel swaggered off upstairs.
We’d had sex and we hadn’t used a condom. I retrieved my knickers from the floor where Daniel had tossed them, and put them on. I swept up the shards of crockery.
I’m supposed to be clever, I thought. I have a First Class Degree. I’m twenty-three years old. I’m not some naive teenager who believes her boyfriend when he says he’ll take it out in time. I put the other mugs in the dishwasher and the remaining biscuits away in a tin.
First thing tomorrow, I thought, before I go to work, I have to visit a pharmacy. I knew that it was actually fairly unlikely that I’d just conceived Daniel’s child, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
But how could he have been so irresponsible? Not that I’d exactly fought him off. How could I have been so irresponsible? It was as though the sensual touch of Daniel’s hands on my body obliterated my ability to think.
After opening several drawers and cupboards, I found where Erin kept her cleaning products, and blushing furiously, although there was no-one there to see me, I washed the kitchen table. It just seemed like the right thing to do.
I surveyed my handiwork. The kitchen was immaculate. Except for a small piece of paper lurking by the fridge. I picked up the paper, unfolded it, and read the name of Live, Laugh, Love’s leading lady and a mobile number. It must have fallen out of Daniel’s pocket while we were banging away, oblivious to anything except each other. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Daniel, not exactly, but I couldn’t think of any good reason why he would need that woman’s phone number.
I tore the paper to shreds and threw it in the rubbish bin.
I might have let my feelings for my Fallen Angel overcome my intelligence and my common sense to such an extent that I’d had irresponsible, unprotected sex with him on a kitchen table, but I wasn’t completely stupid.
CHAPTER 24
‘Hey, Cassie.’ I sat on Daniel’s bed, my laptop balanced on my knees. Cassie smiled back at me from my computer screen, courtesy of Skype.
‘Hey, yourself,’ she said. ‘How’s it going in Primrose Hill? Have you opened the celebratory champagne?’
The previous day, Daniel had picked up the keys to his new house – or rather, the removal company he’d hired had picked them up for him. Specialists in house moves for the rich and famous, they’d orchestrated the whole thing. Daniel had left them to pack up everything at his old flat, he and I’d spent the night at Cassie’s, and when we arrived at his new house this morning, everything was unpacked, ready and waiting for us.
‘The champagne’s on ice, I’m afraid,’ I said. ‘We just about had time to look over the place and find out how everything works before Daniel had to go out. He’s appearing on a chat show for the BBC.’ I glanced at my watch. Ten o’clock. ‘I promised him I’d watch it, but it’s not on for another hour. So we’ve time for the virtual guided tour. If you like.’
‘I wouldn’t mind a tour of the famous movie star’s mansion.’
I laughed. ‘It’s not a mansion. It’s a desirable modern townhouse in a highly sought-after area. This is the master bedroom…’
Carrying my laptop, I went from room to room, pointing out to Cassie all the features that had attracted me to the house when Daniel had first shown me the photos on the estate agent’s website. We ended up in the long through-room that took up most of the ground floor, where she was suitably admiring of the contemporary design of the fireplace. I sat down on Daniel’s new L-shaped sofa.
‘I’m impressed,’ Cassie said. ‘It’s a beautiful house.’
‘It is,’ I said. ‘I just wish Daniel would get his act together and ask me to live in it.’
‘He hasn’t said anything about you moving in?’
‘Not yet. But he’s always talking to me about the house – asking me where I think furniture should go and that sort of thing – so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’
‘Well, there’s no hurry, is there?’ Cassie said. After a moment, she added, ‘Lucy – don’t rush into anything you might regret.’
‘I won’t,’ I said. But inwardly I thought, I’d move in with Daniel tomorrow if he asked me.
‘And how is the other man in your life?’ Cassie asked.
‘Owen?’ I said. ‘I’ve not seen much of him lately. Actually, I’ve not seen him at all since the first night of his play. His new girlfriend seems to take up all of his spare time.’
‘He has a girlfriend?’ Cassie said. ‘Have you met her?’
‘Very briefly,’ I said. ‘Her name’s Vanessa. She looks a bit like a horse.’
‘Oh. So you don’t like her.’
<
br /> ‘I never said I don’t like her.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ Cassie said, ‘because it could be very awkward if Owen was dating a girl you didn’t like. What with you and him being so close.’
‘It doesn’t matter to me who he’s dating,’ I said. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. ‘Anyway, I told you, I’ve not seen him in a while.’
‘Maybe his girlfriend doesn’t want him hanging out with you,’ Cassie said. ‘Some girls get very possessive, even when they’ve only been with a guy a few weeks. She might be worried that you and he are more than just good friends.’
‘Then she’s going to be one very worried woman,’ I said, ‘because a lot of Owen’s friends are female.’
‘Or maybe,’ Cassie said, ‘he’s one of those people who drop their friends the moment they’re in a relationship.’
I shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘Still, you must be pleased that he’s met someone.’
‘Of course,’ I said.
Since the night of his West End debut, engraved on my mind for ever as Kitchen Table Night (oh, the relief when I knew for sure that I wasn’t pregnant – I was never going to let myself get carried away like that again), I’d spoken on the phone to Owen just once. I’d asked how things were going with Vanessa, but all he’d said was that they’d had lunch, that he was seeing her again, and then he’d abruptly changed the subject. I’d texted him the following Sunday, the one day of the week he wasn’t at the theatre, suggesting we meet for a drink, but he texted back that he was taking Vanessa out to dinner. The day after Live, Laugh, Love closed, I got a text from him saying they were going to Paris for a few days, and he’d be in touch. That had been two weeks ago, and I hadn’t heard from him since. I wasn’t at all pleased that he was devoting all his time and attention to Vanessa. I missed him. Desperately.
‘Of course I’m pleased for him.’ I checked the time. ‘Cassie, I’m going to have to go. Daniel’s chat show starts in five minutes.’
‘No worries,’ Cassie said.
‘I’ll be home tomorrow after work.’
‘See you then.’ She ended the call.
I switched on the TV. The chat show had already started, but Daniel wasn’t the first guest, and I found myself watching a supermodel plugging her book of make-up tips. She was followed by a soap star plugging her exercise DVD. Bored, I picked up my mobile and scrolled through my messages, deleting most of them until I came to the text Owen had sent me two weeks ago: We’re off to Paris for a few days. Will call u when I get back. Owen xx
Why hadn’t he called me? I’d have liked to have heard about his trip. Closing my text messages, I went into Facebook and brought up Owen’s page. I wasn’t stalking him, I told myself. I was just going to look at his holiday photos. Annoyingly, he hadn’t posted anything since Live, Laugh, Love had opened, but the lack of a photographic record didn’t stop me picturing him holding hands with the wonderful Vanessa as they strolled along the banks of the Seine.
So what if he’s seeing Vanessa, I thought, he’s still my friend.
I brought up Owen’s number on my phone, and hit the call button. He answered straight away.
‘Lucy. Hang on a sec.’ He was almost inaudible above the sound of loud excited chatter and piano music. ‘I’ll just go into another room.’
There was a pause, and then the music faded.
‘Are you OK to talk? I don’t want to interrupt anything’
‘I’m good,’ Owen said. ‘I’m only at Zac and Julie’s place.’
‘It sounds like they’re having a party.’
‘No, it’s just a few friends drinking too much wine and playing Zac’s piano rather badly. Lucy, are you all right?’
‘Yes, I’m fine’ I said. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘No reason. But eleven thirty at night is an unusual time for you to call me.’
‘It’s just that I realised we haven’t spoken in a while,’ I said. ‘I didn’t really think about the time.’
‘Hey, I’m not complaining. And you’re right. It’s been too long. It’s good to hear from you.’
I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.
I said, ‘So how was your trip to Paris?’
‘Paris was great. We did all the tourist stuff: the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, the Museé D’Orsay. And in the evenings, Annette took us to the bars and restaurants the tourists don’t know about.’
‘Oh… I didn’t realise you went to Paris with Michael and Annette.’
‘I wasn’t with them the whole time. I did do some exploring on my own while they visited her parents.’
He’d explored Paris on his own? ‘Didn’t Vanessa go with you?’
‘Er, no, she didn’t.’
‘That’s a shame.’
There was a silence and then Owen said, ‘Lucy, I’m not dating Vanessa. We’re not an item.’
‘But I thought…’ Fortunately Owen couldn’t see my blushing face. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘There’s no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like I’m cut up about it.’
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing dramatic,’ Owen said. ‘I took her out a couple of times, but we soon found out that apart from our privileged education, we have absolutely nothing in common –’ He broke off. I heard a burst of music, laughter, and someone shouting drunkenly for him to ‘come and play the piano.’ Other voices joined in, chanting his name.
‘You should get back to the party.’
‘It’s not a party. But I should get back to it. As it’s my turn to play the piano. Apparently.’
We both laughed.
‘Let’s continue this conversation tomorrow after you’ve finished work,’ Owen said.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow’s good for me. Shall we go to our usual bar?’
‘Yeah, I’ll see you there. Goodnight, Lucy.’
‘Night, Owen.’
I rang off.
So Owen isn’t dating that dreadful girl, I thought. I knew I should be sad that things hadn’t worked out for him and Vanessa, but I wasn’t. If a male friend dates a girl you can’t stand, it puts a terrible strain on your friendship.
I returned my attention to the television – to see Daniel looking back at me. I watched as he shook hands with the chat show host, and left the set to the applause of the studio audience.
Oh, no, I thought. I’ve missed Daniel’s interview!
With a renewed appreciation for twenty-first century technology, I hit rewind on the TV remote.
CHAPTER 25
Cassie came out of the house carrying two glasses of white wine. She was wearing a gold bikini that would have looked trashy on most girls, but somehow on her looked glamorous. Ryan, cooking steaks on the barbeque, noticed her immediately, and his eyes followed her as she walked towards me across the grass.
Daniel, who despite the heat, was playing an energetic game of tennis with Owen, whistled and called out, ‘Nice swimsuit, Cassie.’
I glanced down at my gingham bikini top and cutoff denim shorts. Clearly I still needed to work on my honorary-celebrity wardrobe.
Ryan grinned and said, ‘Are you flirting with my fiancée?’
‘Yep,’ Daniel said.
I smiled through gritted teeth. I knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but Daniel’s compulsion to flirt with every attractive woman in his vicinity was so irritating.
‘I’ve made the salad,’ Cassie said, handing me a glass of wine. ‘So now all you and I have to do is wait for the barbeque.’ She lowered herself onto the lounger next to mine, which was shaded by a beach umbrella.
‘Don’t you want to get a tan?’ I asked.
‘Princess Snowdrop can’t get a tan,’ Cassie said. ‘It’s in her contract.’
‘Oh. Right.’ I sipped my wine. It was deliciously cold. Placing it carefully on the grass within arm’s reach, I turned onto my stomach and undid my bikini so I wouldn’t get strap marks.
Fro
m the far end of the garden, there was a shout of triumph from Daniel as he won another point.
‘That’s thirty-love to me,’ Daniel said. ‘I hope you’re keeping score, Lucy.’
My earlier irritation faded. He was my Fallen Angel. I couldn’t stay annoyed at him for very long.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘my score-keeping skills are legendary.’
Daniel and Owen resumed their game. Their court might be a small patch of Cassie’s sun-scorched lawn, and their net strung between two garden stakes, but from the expressions of concentration on their faces, they could have been at Wimbledon.
Daniel missed a shot, and Owen called out, ‘That’s thirty-fifteen.’
Lowering my voice so that only Cassie could hear, I said, ‘Thanks again for letting Owen rent a room in your house.’
‘There’s no need to thank me,’ Cassie said. ‘It’s lovely for Ryan and Daniel to have another little boy to play with.’
I laughed.
‘Seriously, Lucy,’ Cassie said. ‘I know how hard it is to find somewhere affordable to live in London, and it’s not like we don’t have the space.’
A week ago, not wanting to wear out his welcome in Zac and Julie Diaz’s spare bedroom, Owen had taken over a room in a shared house from a Canadian friend-of-a-friend (who was moving back to Toronto). I’d helped him transport his few possessions to his new address. When I’d told Cassie about the mould growing on his ceiling and the cockroaches in the communal kitchen, she’d gone very quiet, before telling me that my description reminded her of a place she’d lived in when she first came to London. Then she’d asked me to phone Owen and offer him a room in her house in Fulham at the same rent as he was paying to live in what the newspapers call a ‘socially deprived area.’ He’d moved in the next day.
Daniel sent a ball straight into the net.
Owen called out, ‘Thirty all.’
Cassie said, ‘I wouldn’t want to let a room to just anybody, but Owen is such a nice guy. And he’s certainly easy on the eye.’
My gaze slid sideways to the far end of the garden. Neither of the boys was wearing shirts, and I found myself transfixed by the rippling muscles in Owen’s back as he raised his racket to hit the ball.