Authors: Jan Warburton
'Ah! I remember,' he laughed, resting the bottle on the hall table and holding out his hand for my jacket.
Although no intimacy had taken place between us since Zermatt we often fooled around in a mildly flirtatious way. It was accepted by everyone, even Kate and Luigi, and was never considered anything other than a little frivolous horseplay between friends. Only he and I ever understood any possible connotations.
'Incidentally, I picked up a Chinese takeaway for us on the way home; I hope that's all right? It's in the oven keeping warm. Perhaps you'd like to go through and sort the dishes out while I slip something on. I remembered that you like spring rolls and beef in oyster sauce. There are a few other dishes as well.'
He then disappeared with my jacket across the hall to the bedroom, before I had chance to reply that I'd rather have him just as he was, without the spring rolls and oyster sauce.
He appeared minutes later, looking deliciously casual in a pair of faded jeans and short sleeved white polo shirt. As I began opening up the cartons of hot food a strong aroma soon pervaded the kitchen.
'I say, why don't we eat out here, Oliver?’ I suggested. ‘The food will only make the other rooms smell.'
The kitchen was large, fitted out in pine, and in its centre was a sizable wooden table and chairs.
'Sure you don't mind? It seems a bit primitive to ask you over and then expect you to eat in the kitchen, doesn't it?'
'Nonsense. As I said before, I'm easy, and what's more I like primitive.'
'Mmm, I bloody know that,' he smiled, attacking the wine bottle lodged between his knees with the corkscrew.
During the meal we talked mostly about Kate; what we'd been doing together and how much fitter I thought she'd become since she'd been in Italy. Then we withdrew to the sitting room, with another bottle of wine. I carried the glasses.
Things were perfectly happy and relaxed between us. I was glad that he'd invited me to the flat to eat, instead of having to contend with the constraints of a restaurant. The wine was starting to affect my senses now.
Oliver put the bottle down. Suddenly he turned to face me. Catching me by the elbows, because I still had a glass in each hand, he held me in front of him. I tilted my face up at him as he inclined his head and our lips met.
An incredible sensual surge catapulted through me. Pulling away, he took the glasses from me and placed them on the table. I was transfixed. My God, I'd no idea it was going to be this easy again. My heart pounded and a warm pulse started to beat between my legs.
'Oliver, I...'
He put his fingers to my lips to silence me and, taking my hand, he led me towards the sofa. I now felt totally under his control.
We didn't sit; we just stood there facing one another. Then once more our faces were together. I could hear his heavy breathing against me as he fumbled with my blouse buttons. Soon he found my silky underwear.
Cupping by breasts, he bent to kiss them, sucking against the coffee coloured, satin fabric, turning it dark brown with the wetness.
'Christ, you have the most fantastic boobs,' he mumbled, squeezing my nipples. I shrugged out of my blouse.
His hand went behind to undo my bra and as my rounded breasts revealed themselves, he bent to take each one in his mouth. I held his head, gently fingering his dark wavy hair as he enjoyed me, happy to allow him to do all he wanted. Tonight I was his.
I half expected to be pulled down onto the sofa but instead he twisted his fingers in mine. 'Come to the bedroom,' he said huskily, gazing into my eyes.
Letting my hand drop, he let me pass. As I led, he followed, and I was aware of his eyes caressing the shape of me as I walked ahead into his and Kate's bedroom. Instantly I had a vision of Kate's thin, anorexic body, and I thought, a bit unkindly perhaps, what it must have been like making love to a bag of bones these last months. Although sex with her may still have been good, I sensed he loved the feel of a more curvaceous woman in his hands.
We didn't turn on the light; the lamplight in the hall shining through the doorway illuminated the bed enough.
At the bedside he grasped me, almost stumbling into me in his eagerness. 'I'm glad you came tonight, Annabel. This had to happen again I suppose, didn't it?'
I nodded, imagining he could see how much I wanted him. However I think, in the semi-darkness, all he could probably make out was the shape of my face.
'You don't feel offended?' he murmured. 'I mean, if you think I'm just taking advantage of a situation again then we'll stop now.' He stood back, his hands on his hips in a passive rugby stance. It was a favourite pose he often took during conversation and I'd always found it attractive.
I stretched out for him and he took my hand. 'Oliver, I do want you, it's fine... honestly. Let's say we’re both taking advantage of an ideal situation. Let's just enjoy it, shall we? Who knows when we'll get the chance again, and I promise you I don’t expect any more from you. We'll make this another Zermatt, okay? No strings.' I then proceeded to undress him. The sight of him sent a narcotic kick through my body as I remembered exactly how it had been before. He kissed me again and I found myself falling backwards onto the bed.
I closed my eyes. For a few seconds I sensed him poised above me, his legs bent on either side of me.
At this point I found myself momentarily thinking of Luigi. Hell, I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. Oliver eyes were directly above mine and, as he massaged himself between my boobs, he gazed into my eyes. Then he drew away with a semi-satisfied sigh.
Almost as if he'd read my mind, he said, 'Have you ever been unfaithful to Luigi with anyone else? You spend a lot of time apart.'
'No, only with you. I really do love him you know. You're the only
other
man in my life. Sexually, that is. I often fantasize about you though. You are incredibly sexy.'
'You're pretty sexy yourself.'
I could just see his lips form a smile and my thoughts raced back to Alex, and the first time he'd told me that.
'Let's take our time,' he said, lowering his face into me.
Soon orgasmic waves were breaking over me. Next he was above me again. 'Turnover,' he whispered in my ear. I knew what he wanted. Luigi never did this and I felt another surge of lustful excitement rise within me as I turned over for him.
Afterwards as he lay on his stomach beside me, one leg straddling me, his hand stroking my shoulder, he sighed deeply. 'That was amazing! Fantastic!' he mumbled into my hair. I could feel a wet patch of saliva on the pillow, where my face had been pressed.
'Mmm, it was,' I murmured, wiping the damp hair from my face.
We slept the rest of the night away until Oliver's alarm woke us both at seven.
I rustled up some coffee but it did little to appease the uneasy guilt I felt at having been unfaithful to Luigi again. It was strange, because I'd hardly felt it at all the first time in Zermatt. This
time it was more acute; a weird feeling of impending doom seemed to loom uncomfortably over me.
Studying Oliver as we drank our coffee and he prepared for work, I reminded myself that he and I weren't in love; it was purely sex. Love had never ever entered into our relationship. We were simply very close friends and bodily lust had drawn us together again sexually. Both of us were fully aware that neither Kate nor Luigi were ever at risk of losing us, but for some reason now I found little comfort in knowing this.
At seven thirty-five I hurriedly kissed Oliver goodbye and discreetly left the block of flats via the emergency exit and then walked along to where my ordered taxi was waiting.
*
Back home at St John's Wood, I let myself in to find a pile of mail on the floor behind the door. My cleaning lady had only been asked to call in twice a week to see to that, and to give the place the once over. Another neat pile of letters lay on the hall table.
Upstairs I showered and changed, to a vague sense of temporary reprieve. I was also acutely aware that by last night's actions, I'd recklessly entered an unfamiliar kind of danger zone in my otherwise pretty conventional life.
There were all the lies that would now have to be told for one thing on both our parts. Despite our mutual agreement of emotional indifference towards each other, no strings and all that, I knew that somehow things could never be quite the same any more.
It might be easy for Oliver to cope with the complexities of adultery but not so for me. I felt I'd now crossed the fine dividing line between acceptance and non-acceptance and the consequential horrors, which could evolve from the situation, were almost too scary to even contemplate.
CHAPTER 27
Later that morning, Jules and I went through the swimwear sketches that I'd brought back with me from Italy.
'Of course they're early ones yet,' I told him, 'and we'll have to run some tests first, to see if the fabrics I've chosen are suitable. I'd like to use that new elasticised jersey.' I handed him a couple of sketches. 'Cut these two designs for starters, and then have them made up in the two shades I've selected to see how they look and perform. We'll have to do a wet test too. If we can't get the right fit then we'll have to look elsewhere for fabric. Also see what you think will be suitable for the flimsy tops and cover-ups.'
'We could try the printed voile we used last season for the ruched evening dress? It comes in loads of shades.'
I nodded. 'Good idea.'
As he headed for the door, Lynda came through, taking a cursory glance at the sketches in his hand. 'You know, I didn't realise you were this serious about the swimwear. It wasn't just a ruse then, to get Kate interested?'
'Initially, yes it was, but the designs have come on so well I'd like to go ahead with it. But I've told Jules, we must achieve a superb fit, otherwise it's a waste of time attempting it. Anyway, Kate's got herself really motivated with it, which I'm delighted about.'
Then I mentioned about probably not being able to use her to model the range, because of her extreme skinniness. 'The thing is… swimwear does need a more shapely body to show it off really well. Whilst Kate still looks great dressed, she'll need to put on much more weight for this. But she has improved quite a bit health-wise while we've been in Italy.'
I glanced at my watch, realising it was almost lunchtime. 'Come on Lynda; let's go for a sandwich. You can spare me half an hour, since some of the work will have to wait anyway until the machines are repaired. I want to hear what's been going on in your life recently. How's young Simon doing?'
Grabbing my bag I slipped my arm through hers and yelled to Jules that we were off for a bite of lunch
The phone rang, but I left him to answer it.
*
When I arrived back in my office, a strange phone number in Sicily was left on my note pad. It must have been Luigi ringing me from Vito's, I decided.
Once more a momentary pang of guilt swept through me as I dialled the number. The memory of last night with Oliver was still fresh in my thoughts. Luigi must never know it happened.
Eventually a woman's voice answered in Italian. It turned out to be Vito's wife, Gina. As soon as she realised who I was, she spoke more slowly, in broken English. But what she said echoed in my ears, leaving me numb and speechless.
'Annabel, you must understand we try to reach you before ... as soon as we know. Luigi and your friend, they go straight to hospital after the crash, but Luigi, he too bad. He dead. I so sorry,
dio mio
…'
Paralysed, I was totally unable to absorb properly what she was telling me. I gulped and made a halfhearted effort to speak but words wouldn't come. Gasping for breath, my whole body started to shake. The phone fell from my hands.
I could just hear Gina's voice faintly repeating my name but it didn't register in my now catatonic state. Luigi dead in a car crash? No! It’s not possible!
Lynda came bursting in through the half open door.
'Annabel, I've just heard! Jules said they rang earlier, and it's just been on the news. The radio was on in the workroom. It's dreadful!'
She rushed to pick the phone off the floor, Gina's voice continued, 'Annabel, Annabel? Please speak
dio mio
. Annabel!’
Lynda put the receiver to her ear, 'Hello? This is Annabel's assistant. I'm afraid she is in terrible shock. I'm sure when she recovers she will speak to you again.'
Seconds later, Oliver was on the phone speaking to Lynda. I couldn't talk to him, I felt so numb; floating in a void. Nothing was real; Luigi wasn't really dead. He couldn't possibly be! This was all a horrendous dream!
I sat staring ahead, trying to make some sort of sense of it all, while Lynda talked quietly to Oliver. 'She’s in complete shock, I'm afraid. How's Kate? Any news?'
A pause while he replied. Then she said, 'Thank God.'
Then, 'Of course, I'm sure she will.'
What the hell were they talking about? I was so confused.
She continued. 'Are you intending to go over straight away?'