by HR Moore
*****
By the time Anita and Cordelia got home, Cleo had set up shop in the sitting room. She had brought with her a chest that seemed to be full of some kind of ancient torture devices and immediately set about using them on Anita. It was 4 o’clock by the time Anita was allowed a break, and only then because Cordelia appeared with some sandwiches and a carrot and ginger cake. At 4.30pm, the hairdresser and make-up artist arrived and set to work on Cleo. Harry was picking her up at 6.30pm, as everyone who wasn’t going with a Descendant had to be in place and ready by 7.00pm for the Descendants’ procession at 7.30pm. Seeing as Cleo was going with a Councillor’s son, she didn’t feel this was an occasion to be late.
Once they’d finished with Cleo, she looked extraordinary. Her hair was in a loose up do; several delicate plaits interwoven with her normal silky locks in a way that accentuated her spectacular cheekbones, her eyelids a shimmering palette of bronze and gold. ‘Wow, Cleo, you look amazing,’ said Anita. ‘I mean you always look great, obviously, but you’ve somehow reached a whole new level.’
‘Thanks,’ Cleo laughed, ‘but just wait until you see the dress!’ she said animatedly, practically running upstairs to get changed.
Whilst Cleo dressed herself, the hairdresser and makeup artist began on Anita, building her up do around her mother’s gold and diamond tiara. The results, even Anita had to admit, were pretty good. They’d somehow managed to make her look imperial, yet soft and approachable, and her makeup was understated, yet somehow striking. Anita was admiring their handy work in the mirror when Cleo re-entered the room. ‘Bloody hell Cleopatra,’ Anita blurted. Cleo was a vision in a floor-length, golden, shimmering, figure accentuating, sleeveless, refined dress, with a low v at the front. It fitted her magnificently and gave her a flirty yet sophisticated air. She had simple, sky-high gold sandals on her feet, which, of course, she moved in effortlessly.
‘Stop staring and go and put on your dress,’ chastised Cleo, clearly pleased at Anita’s reaction.
Anita went up the narrow stairway to her cramped room, where she slipped on her flowing red dress. She grinned as she zipped herself up and did a quick twirl to feel the fabric pouring around her legs. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She slipped on her ridiculous black sandals before returning downstairs. As she entered the room, she got a gaggle of approving comments and her face cracked into a broad smile. She and Cleo thanked the hairdresser and makeup artist profusely as they left. ‘Can you believe I’m actually looking forward to this?’ Anita laughed when they’d gone.
‘By the Gods, if we can get you to look forward to a ball, then there’s nothing we can’t do!’ giggled Cleo. Cordelia, who had just got back from walking Thorn, entered the room.
‘Ha! Did she just say she was looking forward to this? It’s amazing what a bit of makeup and a pretty dress can do! You both look beautiful by the way,’ she said, as there was a knock on the front door.
‘Thanks,’ they said together, giving independent twirls and laughing as they did it, feeling a lot like little girls playing dress-up.
‘That will be for me,’ Cleo squealed, giving Anita an excited half hug and rushing to the door, pausing for a moment to regain her composure before swinging it open. ‘See you later!’ she called over her shoulder, gliding through the door and saying, ‘hello Henry,’ in her most sassy voice.
Anita and Cordelia could just about make out Henry’s stuttering, ‘hello,’ as Cleo closed the door behind her.
‘Poor thing has no idea what he’s got himself into,’ Anita joked.
‘Indeed,’ Cordelia laughed back. ‘She always was determined that one.’
‘That’s an understatement,’ sniggered Anita, ‘but if he can’t even manage to say hello, I’m not convinced he’ll last the night!’
Five minutes later, Cordelia tactfully removed herself so she wouldn’t be lingering when Marcus arrived, saying, ‘I’m off to sit by the stream for a while. You look lovely Anita, and I hope you have a wonderful time.’ Cordelia gave Anita a brief hug before heading to the back door. She had never been especially sentimental, nor was she very good at expressing how she felt, so this was pretty touching.
Anita looked at the clock. 6.40pm. Plenty of time to contemplate both how to handle Marcus this evening and what to do about the Alexander problem. She perched on the arm of a sofa thinking the situation through, when she heard the gate squeak open outside. She jumped up and looked through the window to see an energy town car parked the other side of the gate and Marcus striding up the path towards the front door. Anita retreated from the window and took a couple of deep breaths. ‘Well, guess I’ll just have to wing it,’ she muttered, taking a deep breath as Marcus rapped forcefully on the door. Anita waited a few moments before making her way slowly to the door. She wanted to let him sweat a bit; he had, after all, turned up twenty minutes early; a most un-gentlemanly thing to do. In fact, maybe that should be her opening line. Or is that taking it a bit too far, she wondered, as she reached the door and pulled it open.
The door swung aside, revealing each to the other, and they stood in silence for a moment as they took in the other’s form. Anita could feel Marcus’ energy make a sharp, upward turn, and heard his breath catch in his throat. She felt her own energy soar as she surveyed the impeccably dressed, dazzlingly handsome specimen in front of her. They half-smiled at each other, relishing the magnificent anticipation of what would happen next, before Marcus took glorious control. He stepped towards Anita and kissed her slowly and seductively on each cheek, Anita’s energy tingling delightfully as he did so.
‘Good evening Anita,’ he said in her ear.
‘Good evening Marcus,’ she replied slowly, enticingly, as he took a step back. ‘I think you’ll find you’re early,’ she teased.
‘Well I couldn’t wait a moment longer,’ he flirted, although there was a hint of sincerity in his tone, ‘and there’s somewhere I want to take you before we surround ourselves with people.’ Anita stepped forward, raising an eyebrow, Marcus closing the front door behind her. He turned and offered her his arm. ‘You are exceptionally beautiful,’ he said softly, as she took it, leaning in towards her. Anita tilted her head and smiled modestly, almost shyly before he guided her down the path and through the gate.
By the time they reached it, Marcus’ chauffeur was holding the door to the very spacious town car open, and Marcus helped Anita inside. He waited until she was settled before climbing in after her.
‘So, what is it you want to show me?’ probed Anita, intrigued after a couple of minutes of driving. The ball was taking place on Austin’s estate just outside of Empire, which was where they seemed to be heading, so Anita was keen to know what lay in store.
‘It’s a surprise,’ he shrugged back, boyishly, as though it was something he couldn’t tell her even if he wanted to. She shot him a simmering look before bowing her head a little and smiling in submission. They travelled in silence, Anita watching the scenery go by, Marcus watching Anita, both feeling a little pacified by the mellow music playing from the front. They were up in the woods above the river now and still climbing. Anita suspected that Austin’s estate would be at the top of the hill, naturally with a spectacular view. That would be where she would choose to live if she were in his position. They passed a pair of imposing gates, enormous, protective lions on pillars either side. Anita threw Marcus a curious look as they passed.
‘We’re going in a different entrance,’ he said, by way of explanation, confirming Anita’s suspicions that this was it. About a mile further through the woods, the chauffeur turned the car through a pair of much smaller, far less intimidating gates, the car soon popping out into open heathland. This ran to the edge of a cliff, which had spectacular views of the surrounding landscape, including both Empire and the Observatory.
The Chauffeur pulled up near the edge of the cliff and came round to open the door. Marcus stepped out and helped Anita do
the same. She walked to the edge and looked down the vertical drop to the river, a long way below. It was incredible, she thought, as she turned to look back at Marcus, but as she did so, she caught sight of something behind him that was altogether more unexpected; an enormous, imposing castle, complete with fairytale battlements and turrets. Bloody hell, she thought, but successfully fought to keep her reaction hidden. The chauffeur unloaded a picnic basket and blanket before nodding to Marcus and striding off into the woods to give them some privacy.
‘Where’s he going?’ asked Anita, shocked. ‘You’re not going to make him hang out in the woods?!’
Marcus laughed. ‘No, even the evil Descendants aren’t that mean. There’s a summer house in the woods; he’s gone to make himself a cup of tea and put his feet up until I call him back. Come on, we don’t have very long until we have to put on a show,’ he said, taking her hand and leading her to the blanket. They sat, Anita as elegantly as she could, given the restrictive dress, thanking the Gods that she wasn’t wearing the figure hugging number Cleo had on.
Marcus opened the wicker basket and produced two beakers and a bottle of Ginger Champagne. ‘Sorry,’ he said, expertly popping the cork and pouring generous quantities into each beaker. ‘I couldn’t find any champagne flutes that dad wouldn’t have killed me for bringing out here, and the caterers for the ball were watching theirs like hawks,’ he said, as though this were dreadfully unjust of them. He handed Anita a beaker and she giggled.
‘Thanks.’ Hearing Marcus call Austin ‘dad’ made Austin seem almost human. Anita had visions of Marcus as a small boy being chastised by his father and she found it quite endearing. ‘It’s quite some view you’ve got here,’ she said, turning to look at the landscape and taking a sip of the delicious wine, bubbles gently fizzing on her tongue.
‘I thought you’d like it,’ he replied. ‘I come out here quite a lot. My mother often comes with me too.’
The mention of Marcus’ mother shocked Anita. She’d never heard anyone talk about her, and she hadn’t been at any of the events over the last couple of weeks, had she?
‘I’ll look forward to being introduced to your mother,’ said Anita, hoping he would offer up more information.
‘Well you might have to wait a while for that,’ Marcus breathed heavily. He saw Anita’s inquisitive expression, so went on tentatively. ‘My father and mother don’t exactly see eye to eye anymore, on pretty much anything, so they try to lead separate lives. My mother comes out here when dad’s in Kingdom, and she goes back to Kingdom when he comes out here. I go between the two, although I spend far more time with dad now, obviously.’
‘That must be hard,’ Anita mused.
‘Not especially,’ he shrugged, indifferent. ‘You’re used to what you’re used to I suppose. Like I imagine you’re used to living with your grandmother and not seeing your parents.’
‘Well it would be tricky to see my parents given that they’re both dead,’ she said, evenly.
Marcus’ eyes flew open. ‘Anita, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.’
She laughed. ‘Why would you? It’s fine. I don’t even remember my parents, so I’ve never known anything else. As you say, you’re used to what you’re used to, so living with my grandmother seems normal to me. Anything else would feel a bit odd.’
Marcus topped up her beaker. ‘So, ready for the first dance?’ he asked, the mood regaining its flirtatious edge.
‘It’s not the first dance I’m worried about,’ she smirked, ‘I’m more concerned about how everyone will react to me turning up with you. I can almost hear the ripple of whispers we’re going to cause when we go in.’
‘Ah yes, the gossip mill. It’s surprising that Cleo’s managed to keep our secret, and even dad hasn’t found out about you, which is pretty much a first for him.’ Anita’s guts tightened at this news. It was one thing dealing with the gossip mill, it was quite another, she suspected, to have to deal with Austin as well. Marcus got up and walked over to the car. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t talking about the first dance in there,’ he nodded towards the castle, ‘I meant the first dance we are about to have out here,’ he said, turning on the car radio, so a vibrant, sassy, melody rippled out of the speakers. He sauntered back to Anita and roguishly held out his hand. She took it and got delicately to her feet.
‘I do hope you know how to lead,’ she played.
‘I’m more concerned that you might not know how to follow,’ he quipped back.
Anita smiled. ‘Touché,’ she said, raising one eyebrow. ‘I suppose we’ll just have to find out then, won’t we.’
Marcus pulled her firmly towards him, placing his free hand on her waist. He took control, and Anita let him. They danced for what seemed like forever, silently flirting, testing each other. Marcus occasionally spun Anita out before guiding her back into his hold. Not bad, thought Anita, as she started to enjoy herself. Not quite as good as Bas, but the first dance would be a long way from embarrassing. As the song came to an end, Marcus bent Anita gently backwards, holding her there as the last remnants of the song floated away into the twilight. Stillness filled the air and Marcus gently pulled her back to him, so their faces were inches apart. They paused there, pulses racing, before Marcus leant in, his intention plain. Anita pulled away.
‘You’ll smudge my lipstick,’ she breathed seductively, her eyes throwing him a challenge. Marcus grabbed her hand as she moved away and pressed it lightly to his lips, meeting both her eyes and her challenge.
‘As you wish…,’ he purred.