by Susan Lewis
‘Let it go, let it go,’ he urged, as she clung to him, gasping and clenching him with muscles that were out of control. ‘Oh God, yes,’ he seethed as he finally let his own climax erupt. His mouth sought hers and he claimed it, kissing her harshly as the clashing surges of sensation continued to shake their bodies.
It was only minutes later, as they lay, still fighting for breath and holding each other close, that a knock came on the door and Sajid shouted.
‘Mr Tom. Have champagne. I am leaving outside door.’
Tom’s eyes closed as he laughed. ‘Good man, Sajid,’ he shouted back.
As Sajid’s footsteps receded down the stairs Michelle started to laugh too. ‘Do you think he knows?’ she said.
Wrapping her tightly in his arms, he said, ‘Probably, but who cares? His timing’s impeccable, because right now I reckon we have something to celebrate.’
She smiled impishly into his eyes, and felt her heart swell as he kissed her mouth, then her breasts, before getting up to go and retrieve the champagne.
She lay where she was, watching him walk back across the room to take two tumblers from a cupboard in the corner kitchenette. This was how she’d always wanted to see him, relaxed in his nudity, and sharing this kind of intimacy with her. It was a dream coming true, if only she didn’t have to wake up.
‘Don’t you find it strange,’ he said, pulling the cork from the bottle, ‘how we wait till the last to do things we should have done at first?’
‘Are you talking about the champagne, or us?’ she asked.
He laughed. ‘Us.’
She stood up and came to put her arms around him.
‘Which damned fool of us made up that ludicrous pact?’ he demanded, putting the bottle down, and pulling her against him.
‘You know, I don’t remember,’ she answered.
He brushed his nose against hers. ‘I don’t want you to go,’ he told her. ‘I guess I know you have to, but I want to keep you here like this, and just love you.’
It was what she wanted too, more than anything, but she knew it wasn’t possible, so she had to keep it light. ‘Wearing nothing but jewels while my master goes out to fight for a crust?’ she teased.
He smiled and kissed her.
‘You know I’d stay if I could,’ she told him, emotion starting to lock her throat. ‘Oh hell,’ she laughed as tears welled up in her eyes. ‘It was never going to be easy, and now this is going to make it so much harder.’
His mouth came tenderly to hers, and as his embrace tightened the need of their bodies began to build again. ‘Champagne,’ he whispered, when finally he let her go.
She watched him fill the tumblers, took hers and met his eyes as he said, ‘To the most beautiful woman I know, dressed only in jewels.’
She smiled and touched her glass to his. ‘I won’t wear them again until the next time we meet,’ she said, and not wanting to ask when that might be, or even if it would happen, she lifted her glass and drank deeply.
For the moment, the package that had come by messenger remained unopened.
Almost as soon as she’d put the phone down to Tom, who’d called to tell her Michelle’s flight had been delayed, but she was on her way now, Katie had felt tears welling up. It was annoying, because in spite of how difficult life seemed to be with Molly lately, and the terrible fear that was a constant presence in her heart, she hadn’t cried at all since they’d told her there was no more they could do. However, just those few gentle words from Tom were making her want to howl. She was still fighting it, trying not to feel sorry for herself, or frustrated, or helpless, but it was apparently unstoppable now, and it wasn’t Tom she had to thank for it, it was Michelle, because wasn’t it just like her to be late? And wasn’t it just like her to have someone wonderful like Tom in her life too?
Though she hated the way she was thinking, she could no more stop the flow now than the tears that were carrying it along. Wrapping her head in her arms, she buried her face in the stack of papers she’d been reading before Tom’s call. This shouldn’t be happening. She wasn’t this person. She was Katie Kiernan, the ambitious young investigative reporter who’d put it all aside when she’d become a mother. She was witty and lively, rose eagerly to life’s challenges, and never failed to overcome them.
She’d always loved her column, though watching world events from the wings had often been hard when she’d so longed to be out there. Molly had to come first, however, so she’d used her column to comment on political madness and highlight social injustice, which was her way of remaining in the fray. One day she would go back to it, and even during this last horrible year she’d managed to persuade herself that the dream wasn’t over. She’d kept up with it all, reading the papers, writing letters to editors, watching the news, listening to the radio, and she still did, but she was starting to wonder now why she was bothering, because who cared if she knew what was going on in the world? Why did she even care, when it was all death and destruction, and God knew she had enough of it going on here. Molly, her precious girl, the only human being in her life who really mattered, was doing everything in her power to reject her, and she just couldn’t seem to find a way to reach her. What a useless mother she was, what a total waste of time she was turning into.
‘Oh God,’ she choked, trying hard to stem all the pent-up fears and emotions, but they just kept on coming, and if her heart wasn’t breaking then it was because it was already in a thousand pieces. Why was this happening to her? Why couldn’t she at least have had a husband who loved her, instead of some loser who was too busy in the gambling dens of Vegas and Reno to be there for Molly now? He hadn’t even answered her letter, when she’d first told him she was ill. Just one cringing phone call, claiming not to have enough money for the fare to come back. He hadn’t even asked Katie how she was.
It was thanks to him and his miserable addiction that she and Molly were living where they were, because the proceeds of their London house had mostly gone on covering his debts. Wasn’t that just her luck that the bastard had come crawling back years after their divorce, not to tell her what a huge and regrettable mistake he’d made, but to make her sell the house and cough up his share or some Mafia lowlife was going to stick him. If it weren’t for Molly she’d have happily stuck him herself, but as their prized Kensington home was in his name – even though she’d been paying the mortgage for years – she’d had no choice but to sell up and bank what little was left after saving his miserable skin. Just thank God this little cottage had been wholly in her name, or he’d have taken that too, and then where would she and Molly have gone? On her salary they’d probably have found somewhere, but then the cheery hand of the Lord had swept in with a message from her ovaries telling her there was a serious problem. So, hey ho, off they came to West Wiltshire, the Bath Royal United and a local comprehensive.
How quickly life had changed, how fast the downhill slide in comparison to the uphill struggle. So there was no point contacting Barry Kiernan to help out now, even if she knew where he was, for he was hardly the kind of father Molly needed with all his drinking, gambling and Godfather connections – in fact, she had a job now to remember why she’d ever married him. Perhaps because he’d been quite charming back then, attentive, witty, and a rising star in their journalists’ world. How blinkered love could be, because the drinking and gambling had been a passion with him even then, she’d just refused to see it. And it hadn’t even been that that had finally made her kick him out, it was his confession that he’d always secretly been mad about Michelle.
‘Stop it! Just stop,’ she told herself angrily, as her sobbing grew harder. This much self-pity was disgusting in anyone, and being ill didn’t excuse it. It just made her as loathsome as she felt, for she should be putting Molly above everything, and Molly did come first, she always would, but it still didn’t change the fact that Katie was going to die never having really been loved by a man, not even Molly’s father, who’d only married her because she was pregnant,
he’d claimed.
‘OK. Just go and empty the washing machine now,’ she scolded herself furiously. It was a lovely sunny day, so the sheets would be dry by tonight, and maybe she could light the barbecue later, invite Molly’s new friends round, even allow them to drink some wine as long as they didn’t get drunk.
‘A barbecue! Here! I don’t think so.’ She could hear Molly saying it now, which was why she wouldn’t make the suggestion. She didn’t want to deal with the rejection, or fall into another of the terrible rows they seemed to be having lately.
The phone was still in front of her, making her think of Tom again, and how lonely she was. She took it back to the base, tugged a handful of tissues from the box on the window sill, cleaned herself up and started to rework her shopping list. She’d been planning to go to Sainsbury’s, but now Michelle wasn’t going to be here she’d just stroll round to the village shop and pick up a few essentials there. In truth she was happy not to go far, because it was hot again today, and when she was at home she didn’t need to wear her wig. That was another thing she’d have to brace herself for, Michelle’s shining blonde hair, while all she had now was half an inch of stubble that was more grey than the mousy brown it had been before. Molly hated it if she walked round the house with it uncovered – it was too harsh a reminder of the truth, Katie supposed.
Tears started welling up again, making her wonder if she was ever going to stop, or how sorry it was possible to feel for herself in the space of fifteen minutes. She could be trying for some kind of record.
‘Oh my, what’s going on here?’ a voice demanded from the doorway.
‘Judy,’ Katie said, turning round as Judy, in her nurse’s uniform, pushed open the bottom half of the door and came into the kitchen. ‘Should I be expecting you?’
‘No. I was just passing so I thought I’d drop in. Seems it was good timing on my part, because you’re obviously in need of a bit of tea and sympathy.’
‘Oh no, don’t encourage me, please,’ Katie protested, tugging out another tissue to blow her nose.
Smiling and shaking her head, Judy went to plug in the kettle. ‘How are you on the physical front?’ she asked. ‘Is the pain under control?’
Katie nodded. ‘Completely,’ she said truthfully.
‘What about the constipation?’
‘I think it’s getting better. The senna’s helping and I’m taking more fibre.’
‘Good.’ She picked up the teapot and started to rinse it out. ‘And Molly? Have you managed to discuss anything with her yet?’
‘Chance would be a fine thing. She’s hardly ever here.’
Judy glanced back over her shoulder.
‘To tell the truth,’ Katie said, ‘I think she knows anyway, or at least senses it, and that’s why she’s avoiding me.’
‘It’s very possible,’ Judy responded. ‘Do you know where she goes?’
‘She’s getting quite tight with Allison Fortescue-Bond, which doesn’t exactly please me. It’s a world we’ve left behind now, and I’m afraid being around people who have all the privileges she’s lost …’ She sighed, and looked down at her hands. ‘Or maybe it’s a good thing,’ she continued after a moment. ‘At least she has a friend now, though it just leads me to wondering which I should be discussing first, boys, birth control and STDs, or my own situation.’
‘You’ve already done the birds and the bees,’ Judy reminded her.
‘Yes, but I need to keep on top of it all. Should I put her on the pill, just in case, or get her some condoms? Or coax her into some kind of celibacy club?’
Coming to the table, Judy said, ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to have a chat with her about you? It might be easier to hear it from someone else.’
Katie shook her head. ‘It should come from me,’ she said, her breath catching on a latent sob, ‘but to be honest, I’m not sure about making her face it yet. We don’t know how long it’s going to be, and maybe it would be kinder to let her feel some security with Michelle before she has to deal with losing me.’
Judy wasn’t too sure about that, so passing over it, she said, ‘Where is Michelle? Isn’t she supposed to be here today?’
‘Tomorrow,’ Katie answered. ‘Her flight was delayed.’
‘Oh, I see. So is that why you’re upset?’
Katie sighed again. ‘Yes. No! Oh, I don’t know. I’m feeling so confused about everything at the moment, and the heat doesn’t seem to be helping. Who’d believe it was almost the end of September?’
‘Gorgeous, isn’t it?’ Judy responded, turning to look out of the window, where the sky seemed improbably blue for the time of year, and the trees and hedgerows were still richly green. ‘It’s going to be quite a change for her, being in a sleepy backwater like this after her experiences in Afghanistan, I’m sure.’
‘Pakistan,’ Katie corrected.
‘Of course, sorry.’ Judy turned back. ‘You know, we should ask her to give a talk at the village hall, tell us all about it. Do you think she would?’
‘I expect so,’ Katie responded, glad that sinking feelings weren’t visible, for she was experiencing a particularly horrible one now at the prospect of her sister’s popularity. ‘Actually, the vicar’s already suggested it,’ she said, ‘and Mrs James wants to know if she’ll open the fête next month.’
Judy’s eyebrows rose. ‘Seems she’s already quite in demand,’ she remarked. ‘I suppose it’s inevitable, but we shouldn’t forget the real reason she’s coming, should we? I’m sure she won’t.’
‘You know, she’s not quite the saint you’re all making her out to be,’ Katie responded, wanting to quash it now, before it really took hold. ‘To begin with, she’s got a son who she just abandoned when he was five.’
‘Really? You’ve never mentioned that before. What do you mean, abandoned?’
Katie’s eyes moved away, for she knew it wasn’t quite as black as she was painting it, though to serve her own purposes right now she almost wished it was. ‘She left him with his father so she could go on with her calling,’ she said, knowing very well it had broken Michelle’s heart when Robbie had chosen to live in Los Angeles with Michael and his new wife.
‘How old is he now?’ Judy asked.
‘He must be nine, maybe ten. We never see him, because Michael, his father, almost never comes to England now. The point is though, Michelle is totally addicted to her work, which frankly is why I’m so anxious about her coming. If some other crisis pops up in the world between now and when I go, I’m afraid you won’t see her for dust, and then what’s going to happen to Molly?’
‘I’m sure she won’t do that,’ Judy responded.
‘I wish I had your confidence.’
Judy was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. ‘I didn’t realize this was going to be so difficult for you,’ she said gently. ‘I mean, I know you don’t see each other often, but you’ve always kept in touch.’
‘Only on birthdays and at Christmas. As a matter of fact she’s forty today, so I’d planned a bit of a celebration tonight. It won’t happen now, of course, because she’s not going to be here, is she?’
‘You surely can’t blame her for a flight being delayed.’
‘No, of course not, but this is what it’s like with her. Something always comes up or goes wrong, or gets in the way. Nothing’s ever straightforward, and even though it might not be her fault, she always manages to let me down somehow, and I’ve got a horrible feeling it’s not going to be any different now.’
Molly was sitting cross-legged on Allison’s bed wearing only her bra and a thong. Her eyes were closed, her arms were folded across her breasts as candlelight flickered like tiny wavelets over her skin. Allison, Cecily and Donna stood at the foot of the bed, dressed in these wigs and stuff Cecily had brought, holding hands and chanting softly. The sound of their girlish voices mingled with the haunting melody on the CD, the rhythm fading and building, the heady perfume of incense and oils making Molly feel a bit sick.
‘We accept you Molly Kiernan,’ they intoned, over and over. ‘We accept you Molly Kiernan.’
After a while Allison moved forward, her black crinkly wig glinting like silvery wires in the candlelight. ‘I am your sponsor, Molly, so do you promise never to let me down?’
‘I promise,’ Molly responded, eyes still closed.
Cecily said, ‘Molly, do you swear to obey the rules of the Goddess Lilith?’
‘I swear,’ Molly said. It was like, really hot in the room, but for some reason she kept shivering, and feeling afraid of forgetting her lines, even though she didn’t have very many.
‘Do you understand that if you break the rules you will be banished, never to return?’ Cecily asked.
‘I understand.’
‘Do you swear to put our Goddess before all others?’
‘I swear.’
‘She will be your one true mother now.’
‘My one true …’ Molly swallowed, ‘… mother,’ she finished.
Cecily picked up a bottle. ‘Lie down, Molly Kiernan,’ she instructed.
Obediently Molly unfolded her legs and lay back on the bed, arms at her sides. She felt like, dead embarrassed now, being the only one in her underwear, so she kept her eyes closed, and tried to pretend she was having a dream.
Cecily held the bottle over her and poured. The oil was soft and cool as it pooled on to her skin. ‘Lilith has decreed that your heart and womb will be torn from your body if you betray us,’ she warned. ‘Your tongue will be cut from your throat, your eyes plucked from your head.’ She poured more oil on to Molly’s skin and began gently to massage it in, while Molly kept her doubts about Lilith to herself.
‘Do you swear you are a virgin?’ Cecily asked.
‘I swear,’ Molly responded.
‘Do you promise to lose your virginity as laid down by our rules?’
‘I promise.’
‘Open your legs, Molly Kiernan.’
Feeling like, totally freaked out now, Molly parted her legs an inch.