Cold Comfort (6 page)

“Hi,” Emily said brightly as she shouldered
past me and handed Charles her own oversized bag.

“Emily, how are you?” he asked politely.

“I’m good, Charles,” she said, fluttering
her eyelashes, “I’m really good. You have a nice house.” She looked around at
the grand hallway we were stood within. It was about double the size of our
sitting room at the cottage, and bordered with fancy French furniture with
spindly legs, topped with antique vases. I clutched my guitar closer, afraid I’d
bump into something.

He just shrugged. “Everyone else is down by
the pool. Let’s dump your stuff in your room and then I’ll take you down and
introduce you.” He had already turned his back on Emily and was talking to me. I
smiled back shyly and followed as he led the way upstairs. “I hope you don’t
mind,” he said as he opened the doors to an enormous double room, “you’re
sharing a bed. With the demand on rooms we’re a bit tight on space. I hope that’s
okay?” He looked embarrassed. The room was stunning, filled with deep red
velvets, complimented by warm cream tones on the walls.

“Really, it’s fine,” I assured him. “I
could have slept on a roll mat on the floor if it made life easier? I’m used to
camping. I don’t want to be any bother.”

“Well, you might have been able to, but I
couldn’t,” Emily said, laughing at me. “Really, Lila, you say the silliest
things. I’d be happy to share with someone else, though,” she added, her
suggestive tone leaving little space for misinterpretation. Charles’ horrified
expression would almost have been comical if Emily hadn’t looked so furious on
seeing it.

“Anyway,” he said, “if you’re ready we can
go down to the pool house?” I shrugged, discomfited by the prospect of putting
on my costume so soon. That and the fact I couldn’t swim.

“I’m ready,” Emily said, grabbing the
smallest of the three bikinis she’d brought with her. I grabbed my one and
only.

My eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t bring a
towel.”

“We have loads spare that we keep down
there anyway,” Charles reassured me. He really was being an extremely
hospitable host.

“Where are your parents?” I asked.

“South of France. We have a house down
there they spend most of the summer at. Means we get to pretty much do what we
want here.” He smiled and reached for my hand. I thought of what Hardy had said
and chose not to take it. Instead I walked beside him, back down the stairs,
through the house and out into the beautifully manicured gardens. If Elizabeth
Bennett or, even better, Darcy in a dripping shirt had appeared, I wouldn’t
have been the least bit surprised.

As we approached the pool the noise grew. It
seemed other people had arrived a lot earlier than we had. The whole area in
the vicinity of the pool was littered with guys in board shorts and women in
scanty costumes. They all looked a good deal older than Emily and me. I felt
out of my depth. Charles must have sensed my hesitation because he grabbed at my
hand again. This time, in the grips of my insecurity, I let him. He led me around
the pool to a large building, whilst I tried to ignore the stares we attracted.
“There’s a changing room in there,” he said. “You’ll find clean towels in a
heap inside the cupboard. I’ll save you a space,” he said as he patted a sun
lounger. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Just a water,” I whispered.

“Beer for me,” Emily piped up from beside
me. I’d nearly forgotten she was there. Her eyes were dancing with excitement
as she absorbed the sight of all the man candy on offer, ignoring the glares
from various girls as she eyed up their men. “Come on,” she said, grabbing my
hand from Charles’. She pulled me inside where we found the changing rooms and
a bathroom, equipped with a shower that was better than the one we had back at
the cottage. “God, I could get used to this,” Emily groaned. “Don’t fuck this
up for me by being all standoffish. These guys expect a little something for
their efforts,” she warned. She laced up her bikini, what there was of it,
while I worried about her words.
Would they expect something from me just
for coming here?
I hoped not. I was glad Ma had said I could call her anytime
if I needed to. “Don’t just stand there,” she barked at me. “Get your bikini
on.” She set about fluffing her long blonde hair, so that it fell in loose
waves over the tops of her breasts which were barely covered by the tiny
triangles of material. I hadn’t envisaged wearing a bikini so soon, not until I
at least knew a few of the people’s names, so I moved slowly, reluctant to remove
my dress.

“You ready?” Emily asked, when I’d finally
tied the top and adjusted it so that I was well covered. I nodded. “Come on
then,” she said, stuffing our clothes into the bag and leading the way back out
into the bright sunshine.

“Delilah,” Charles called the moment we
emerged, “over here.” I felt a number of women, including Emily, look at me and
scowl as they heard him call my name. I was just grateful to have someone I
vaguely knew to head for. I walked towards him and saw he’d already got some
water, laid a towel out on a sunbed for me and positioned it underneath a
parasol, right next to his own. “Got to keep that beautiful pale skin of yours
from burning,” he said with a smile.

“What about me, Charles?” Emily whined in a
baby voice. It was awful, and I was embarrassed to see Charles cringe.

“Oh, sorry. Yes, um, you can have mine,” he
said, getting up from his bed. “Your beer is on the table.” We both turned and
looked over to where her beer was sitting in the sun, condensation pooling around
the base.

“Never mind.” Emily scowled again and threw
down the bag. “Look after my stuff.” With that she strutted over to the edge of
the pool before wading thigh-deep into the shallows where she stopped to cup
some water. She then proceeded to pour it all over her cleavage. It was quite a
display. I knew she knew exactly what she was doing. Judging by the degree of
male interest she’d attracted with her little show, she’d get exactly what she
wanted out of it too. I looked over at Charles, but he was staring at me as I
stood there in my bikini. I blushed in the face of his open admiration… and the
obvious tenting in his shorts. I’d never received any male appreciation before.
At school I’d always been too tall, a bit too thin, awkward and shy. Labelled as
weird for my love of music I’d faded into the background, grateful for my
apparent invisibility. I didn’t know how to deal with such obvious attention,
so I just blushed. Charles noticed as my gaze fell upon his crotch; he grinned
at me, swiftly sitting down and pulling a towel over his lap.

“Sit down, Delilah, before you attract all
the attention your friend is so desperate to have for herself.” I frowned at
his words and glanced over at Emily, who wasn’t looking my way. “You look
amazing,” he said, still staring at me. “Are you really only sixteen.”

“Afraid so.”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m glad. You’re
completely unsullied. I like that. Too many of these girls,” he said, looking
around at the open sexuality that surrounded us, “have been around the block a
lot… too many times. They’re jaded. To find something different makes a
refreshing change.”

“That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?” I surprised
myself with my challenge.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, these girls have only ‘been around
the block’, as you put it, with these guys, I assume?” I said, looking at the
group. He nodded. “Yourself included?” I suggested. He had the decency to colour
a little. “It’s hypocritical to judge the girls as bad for doing exactly the
same thing the guys have been doing. If they want to be sexually active, as
long as it’s consensual, who are we to judge them?”

“Who indeed?” he replied. He seemed
surprised by my words. “And have you ever…” He didn’t finish.

“That’s very personal information, Charles.
I hardly know you.”

“But I want to know you. I want to know you
well.
Really
well…” He paused and leaned closer, to make the meaning of
his words clear. “You’re in the sun. Have you put any lotion on?” I shook my
head. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.

“I don’t have any with me,” I worried.

“Ah, but I do,” he said, producing a bottle
from beside his chair. I reached to take it, but he pulled his hand back.
“Here, let me,” he said, obviously delighted by the prospect. “Turn over,” he instructed.
Once I’d complied he started to rub cream onto the top of my back. I couldn’t
deny his hands felt really good as he massaged my shoulders, forcing a little
moan to escape at one point. I tried to ignore the occasional brush of what I
could only imagine was his erection as he leaned over me.

“Delilah,” a voice barked as a shadow fell
across me and I shivered. I turned to find Hardy standing beside me, his gaze
on Charles’ hands as they massaged my back. He looked furious.

“Hardy.” I felt the usual flush of warmth I
always seemed to feel around him, despite the iciness of his glare as he took
in my proximity to Charles. Charles, it seemed, wasn’t as impressed by his
looming presence.

“You’re back, Somerville. Where’s Clarissa?”
The reminder of Hardy’s supposed girlfriend was like a bucket of cold water
over me.

“I don’t know, inside somewhere.” He
vaguely gestured towards the house. “Where is Emily?” he asked me.

“There,” I said, pointing at the pool,
where Emily currently occupied a position on a guy’s shoulders as she wrestled
with another girl who was also on shoulders. They had an audience of admiring
men who, I suspected, were all hoping for a major bikini malfunction at any
moment. Hardy smiled, despite himself, then turned back to me. “Can I have a
minute, Delilah?” he asked, looking meaningfully at Charles.

Charles bristled. “Now, look here,
Somerville,” he started.

“It’s okay, Charles,” I said, putting my
hand up to halt his words. I stood and both men seemed momentarily silenced by the
movement. Hardy’s face was the one I watched, though. His eyes swept over my
body, and he swallowed before grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the
pool area.

“Hardy, slow down,” I grumbled as I tripped
along in bare feet behind him. He didn’t acknowledge my words, as pig-headed as
he ever was, and just headed further from the pool and the house, deeper into
the grounds. He didn’t stop until we reached a small pagoda, hidden within a little
walled garden. As soon as we were within the confines of the wooden building he
turned to me and pinned me against the side, encased within his arms.

“You promised me.”

“What?” I asked, confused by his statement.

“You promised me you wouldn’t let him touch
you.”

“I didn’t promise anything. Anyway, he was only
rubbing in suntan lotion.”

“The lotion had been absorbed ages ago. I
watched him. He was caressing your skin, and you were letting him.”

“You’re being ridiculous. He’d been rubbing
it in for a couple of minutes, that’s all. Anyway,” I said, starting to get
annoyed with his overreaction, “what gives you the right to tell me what I can
or can’t do? I’ve done nothing I need to feel guilty about. I don’t have a
boyfriend.” As if on cue, a shrill voice called “Hardeeee”. It was Clarissa.

“Fuck,” Hardy exploded, running his hands
through his fringe, exasperated. He was more worked up than I’d imagined.

“Hardy, calm down.”

“I can’t fucking calm down, not when I see
him with his hands on you. I can’t see anyone with their hands on you and be calm.
It’s not going to happen. I can’t explain it, can’t describe it.” He’d started
pacing now. I knew we had only moments before Clarissa appeared. “You looking
like that, with all these fuckers around. Why did you have to come back into my
life now? I was always going to come and find you when you were old enough. It’s
too soon. I’m going to end up killing someone.” He was shouting, furious. I
knew it would hasten Clarissa’s arrival, something I wasn’t looking forward to.

I grabbed him on instinct and hugged him,
desperate to calm him somehow, burrowing my head into him. At first he tensed
as my arms went round his chest, his body rigid as I held myself against him. Then
finally with a deep groan he gave up the struggle, his head came down and
pressed into my neck, and I felt him breathe me in deeply. He held me tighter
against him as his body sagged in relief. “I won’t let them touch me,” I
promised him, not even sure why I was saying it, only knowing I needed to calm
him, “not like that. Not today.”

“Not ever,” he growled.

“Hardy, you barely even know me. You can’t
make me promise things like that.”

“I know. I know I’m being an unreasonable
prick. I’m sorry. I’m not normally like this.”

“I know you’re not. You were always a bit
bossy, but you were nice too. You looked after me when I was little.”

He looked at me then. “That was one of my
happiest childhood memories. I meant it when I said I intended to come and see
you. I always intended to make something of myself so I could come and get you.
So I could look after you properly. Even back then, as young as I was, I knew
exactly what you would become, how much others would want you too. You were my
secret. Now they’ve seen you, they’re all going to want you,” he said with a
nod over his shoulder back in the direction we’d come from.