There was a chromed steel ladder mid-way along the pool’s edge. The girl still in her underwear hooked one arm around the ladder, facing the water. The naked blonde girl, laughing, her arm around James’ neck, darted her face to his and kissed him quickly, triumphantly. Then she leaned in to her dark-haired friend and kissed her, too. James lifted both his hands to the girls’ breasts, the right breast of one and the left of the other, reaching inside the bra cup to free the perfect mound of buoyant flesh.
‘Oh!’ said Vesna again. She turned away. ‘You know what?’
‘Time for us to rejoin the party, I think,’ said Robert.
‘I think we’d better!’ she confirmed, and was already moving quickly back towards the ballroom. Robert followed, crackling with anxiety. What if she judged him by his brother’s behaviour and thought he was going to… to try something with her?
As if I would!
Robert thought indignantly. But Vesna had stopped by the door and was waiting for him. She was smiling.
‘Still hate to be that good-looking?’ she teased.
‘I’m not like that, Vesna,’ Robert said earnestly. ‘That’s not for me.’
‘I know,’ she said, laying her soft hand against his cheek for a moment before she stepped back into the tumult of the party.
Down in the pool, James didn’t know or care whose hands were on which part of him, or which girl he was touching at any given moment. An image danced in his mind: one of those Indian statues of multi-armed, full-breasted goddesses come to life. Someone ducked beneath the water and stripped off his underpants, freeing his penis to leap upright. The water felt like silk around it. Briefly a mouth enveloped its swollen head, sucking, and then it was surrounded by water
again, and then by a hand, and pressed against a thigh, then a taut belly. The girls pressed close against him; he was kissing and fondling one and the other and both. Then he found himself behind the naked blonde, whose hand was inside her friend’s panties and clearly knew what it was doing there. The two girls were kissing passionately, and James had his arms round both, stroking and squeezing. The blonde girl wriggled in the water, nestling her rump against him, and with her free hand reached between her legs and positioned him against her slit. She pushed down as he pushed up and suddenly he was inside her, the heat and juiciness in there all the more delicious for the coolness of the surrounding water. He pushed in deeper, harder.
As he rocked back and forth in her the blonde leaned forward, undid her friend’s bra and lifted one breast clear of the water as she sucked and tongued the nipple, her other hand still working deep inside those panties. ‘Oh god,’ the dark girl cried. ‘Oh god, oh fuck!’ The blonde was moaning and gasping too. James watched the face of the dark-haired girl as she came, and just a moment later the blonde’s back arched and her buttocks bucked hard against him, inner muscles gripping him tight as her orgasm surged through.
I really want to paint this!
he was thinking.
The way the light from below and behind makes the flesh look almost translucent, the way the waterdrops magnify the pores. Her mouth just above the surface, half-open… that strange expression, the intensity, like pain almost… How can I get that just right?
CHAPTER 6
Robert was standing in his living room. He was not in a good way. He felt as though his skull belonged to somebody else, like it had been fitted on to his body by accident. He lifted his hands to the back of his neck and rubbed there for a few moments, and then at the temples. Weird, the disparity between the information from his fingertips and the way his skull felt from the inside, like an enormous ball that had been dangerously overinflated. He held his hands apart for a moment in the air on either side of his head. There, that was how big it felt. The size of a basketball? Bit bigger, maybe.
Quickly, quickly. Vesna and the girls were waiting in the car, and heaven knows the weekend was always far too short to fit everything in. Around the kitchen again. All lights, off. Microwave, toaster, blender, off. The fridge, now, that had to stay on. That had to stay on.
Walk away from the fridge
, he told himself, in the mock-cop voice the boys at school used. The clock, well, that was battery operated, so that was okay. He lifted it away from the wall to check. Yes, batteries all right.
The laundry. Washing machine, off, dryer, off. Iron in the cupboard,
cord safely wound around itself, as though it was tied up. Irons were one of the worst. The bedrooms, one, two, three: all the lights were off. He bent down to check each powerpoint in case something had been plugged in and left on by accident. A hairdryer, for instance. Maybe someone had used a hairdryer in the bathroom? He’d better check there again.
Well, that was the whole house then. Twice. But what about the computer, had he checked the computer was turned off? Yes, he had, but maybe he should check again? He was going back into the living room when the front door opened and Vesna walked up to him.
‘Robert,’ she said in her calm, kind voice.
‘I was just checking that everything’s switched off.’
‘I know.’ She stood before him and gently put her hands to his face. ‘It’s all okay. You’ve taken care of everything. We can go now.’
Robert closed his eyes and took several deep, slow breaths, as his doctor had suggested. His head felt so much better with Vesna’s hands there, keeping it to the proper size. Finally he nodded.
‘Is it this assessment with your father next week?’ she asked.
‘No, no. Well, maybe. Yes.’
‘It’s pretty routine, my darling. Really. Try not to worry.’
He nodded again and took her hands, lowered them from his face, held them a moment. They walked to the front door together.
‘You didn’t say anything to the girls, did you?’ he asked.
‘About your father?’
‘No, about… me checking.’
‘No, darling,’ his wife assured him.
But they must know. Surely.
He glanced in the rear-view mirror at Bianca and Alexa on the back seat, their identical Coke-bottle-thick glasses and lovely wavy orange-red hair, Alexa’s with about a dozen green plastic clips in it and Bianca’s in pigtails with blue fluffy bands at both ends. They were leaning towards each other with their heads lowered as they looked at a magazine.
They must know something.
But the only comment they had ever made was an occasional wail of
‘Come
on
, Daddy!’ as he prowled the rooms, checking, checking.
And at school? What did they know? Or suspect? The secretary he shared with the principal had given up urging him to leave his computer on when he went home. Switched on at the powerpoint, at least.
It would save you so much time each morning
, he’d been told a thousand times,
and it uses up virtually no electricity at all
, but he just laughed that off and said
I was brought up not to waste a single watt, I’m afraid!
Which wasn’t true at all, of course, but no one at the school knew that, did they?
Vesna turned a little in her seat. ‘Girls? Your friend Daisy, what’s her mother’s name? I just can’t remember.’
The two girls looked at each other blankly and then back at their mother. ‘Mrs Lee?’ offered the older one, Bianca.
‘Mrs Lee.’ Vesna and Robert exchanged glances, smiling. ‘Of course. And you’re sure it’s okay for us to leave you there, they don’t expect the parents to stay?’
‘No, Mum. It’s okay.’
‘So we’ll pick you up after we’ve been to Ikea.’
‘But you don’t have to
hurry
, Mummy. It’s a party!’
‘I do have some work to get through today,’ remarked Robert in an aside to Vesna.
‘Mmm. If we get done in time at Ikea, I’ll drop you at home and then go and get the girls. Spend some time with my good friend Mrs Lee.’ They both laughed softly.
He’d had the thing about powerpoints and electricity for years, since well before he was married. But it had got so much worse lately, from the very day the head of the school council had taken him aside to tell him that he, Robert, was highly favoured to replace Andrea Milne as principal when she retired the following year. And it wasn’t just the electricity thing, either. He also found himself beset by the conviction that he had forgotten certain essential items: his watch, for instance; books or papers he had to take home from school, or vice versa. He was forever tapping his breast pocket
to make sure he had a pen there. And had he put the correct shoes on? Socks? His underwear, for god’s sake! Sometimes, when he was about to slip his coat off, or his jacket, he had a moment of horror that he was wearing nothing underneath, absolutely nothing. It was awful. And this was the man the school council thought would make a good principal. My god!
What if anyone found out?
Robert knew he should go and see his doctor again but he just… didn’t dare.
‘I am so looking forward to getting this new sofa. If we can find the right one,’ said Vesna, stroking his leg lightly.
‘Me too.’
‘And a rug, maybe?’
‘Maybe.’
‘We’ll have fun looking, anyway.’
He smiled at his wife.
But that report I have to write, did I bring it home? Is it in my briefcase?
Where
in my briefcase? The middle section? I think I put it in the middle section, but…
On Thursday morning, Robert went to collect Alex for the appointment with the aged care assessment team.
We could go and have coffee together afterwards
, he thought as he turned into his father’s street.
And a toasted sandwich, in a cafe. That’ll be nice
. There was Alex standing by the rosebushes in his front garden, bony shoulders hunched almost to his ears as he examined them. He called Robert over, gesturing urgently.
‘Look at this! When did these little buggers arrive, eh? I checked these roses just yesterday.’
‘Oh dear. Aphids.’
‘That’s right, bloody aphids!’ said Alex, furious. ‘I need to tackle these right now, Robbie. I’ll just give ’em a good blast with the hose to start off with and if needs must I’ll spray ’em.’
‘Dad! We haven’t really got time! We’re due there in fifteen minutes.’
‘Due where?’ his father asked, frowning distractedly. ‘Where are we going? Just… just remind me?’
‘The clinic. It’s… a doctor’s appointment.’ Robert felt awkward, as if he were trying to con his father into something.
‘Oh. That’s right. Doctor’s appointment. What’s it for again?’
‘It’s just an assessment, Dad. A check-up, really.’
‘Right. Well, this won’t take a minute,’ he said, moving towards the neatly coiled garden hose.
‘Dad, please! I’ll give you a hand later, but we really should get going
now!
’
Alex gave his son a disgusted look. ‘All right then,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I’ll just make a note to remind myself.’ He was feeling in his pockets. ‘Blast! I haven’t got a notebook.’
‘I’ve got one in the car, Dad,’ said Robert, inspired, propelling his father out the front gate. ‘The aphids can’t do much damage in a couple of hours.’
‘Oh, can’t they?’ said Alex darkly. ‘Fat lot you’d know about it. Bloody useless, you are.’
Stung, Robert didn’t talk much on the drive to the clinic. He had intended to go through what he understood of the assessment procedure with his father again, but Alex appeared to be sulking about the aphids, or at any rate not inclined to conversation. It was so unlike his father to be surly. Robert wished Vesna was with them, she always knew the right thing to say.
Maybe I could call her while Dad’s having the assessment
? Stopping for a red light, he turned to check that his briefcase was on the back seat. Yes. But was his mobile phone in it? He reached for the case but then stopped himself. The lights would change any second. He felt his pockets hopefully, but it wasn’t there.
What if I’ve come without my phone? How can I call Vesna? What if she needs to call me? Or the school does?
The feeling of panic rose and rose until he was able to check his briefcase at the next red light. Yes, it was there.
Thank heavens!
At the clinic they only waited a few minutes before a capable-looking middle-aged woman came and introduced herself as Margaret Appleby, a physiotherapist with special training in aged care
assessment. She would be conducting part of the assessment, but first, if they would just follow her, she would take them to meet the doctor for a chat.
‘Both of us?’ asked Robert, feeling suddenly unready.
‘Well, I assumed, since you came together… It’s quite standard, you know, for a family member to sit in. But if you’d rather not…’
‘Dad? Would you like me to sit in on the assessment?’ he asked, turning to Alex, sure from his father’s earlier testiness that he would say no. But to his surprise Alex said breezily that he’d be delighted to have the company, and together they set off down the corridor to the office of a tall, thin, surprisingly young-looking doctor who introduced himself as Dr Alvarez, the resident psychiatric geriatrician, or geriatric psychiatrist, Robert couldn’t quite remember.
And if I can’t remember, how’s Dad going to?
he wondered, looking across at his father, but Alex appeared perfectly unconcerned.
Dr Alvarez had Alex’s file from his GP open on the desk in front of him. ‘For a man of your age, Mr McDonald, you seem to be enjoying very good physical health.’
‘That’s right, tip-top condition. It’s the gardening keeps me fit. Love the garden.’
‘Good for you. It’s so important, to keep fit and stay active. The most important thing, one might say.’
‘Couldn’t agree more.’
‘No heart problems, no lung problems. There’s just the high blood pressure.’
‘Oh, that’s not really a problem. Nothing serious.’
‘Well you see, it
can
be a problem. It can lead to
serious
problems. It’s very important that we check it regularly and that you continue with your medication.’
Alex agreed graciously that he would do so. The young doctor started to ask him about other things: did Alex belong to any clubs or hobby groups, were there friends he saw regularly? Did he ever feel depressed; some days perhaps when it just didn’t seem worth
getting out of bed in the morning? Alex laughed lightly at the very thought. There were other questions, unremarkable, and Robert’s attention started to drift, when suddenly he heard an agitated edge in his father’s voice.