Polo (61 page)

    He was back in five minutes, just wearing a white towel slung round his hips, which emphasized the satin-brown smoothness of his chest. Compared with Luke he was willowy and elongated, a greyhound beside a mastiff. She didn't want to think about Luke. It hurt too much,
and
made her feel too guilty, and she knew if it had been him instead of Red who had been about to take her to bed she wouldn't have been so terrified.

    `Thank you for the orchids, they were lovely.' Desperately she tried to stem the rattle of ice. `They've got lower lips like Juan O'Brien, and the pyjamas are gorgeous.'

    `Why didn't you wear them?'

    `I thought you might not want to go to bed.'

    `You thought wrong, and you've put them on the wrong side.' He picked up the pyjamas and threw them to the left side of the bed. `Your pal Ricky France-Lynch may be ambidextrous enough to make women come with his left hand, but I only score with my right.'

    Turning away to hide her frantic blushes, Perdita drained her vodka.

    `It's the most beautiful suite,' she gushed. `With all those Grecian pillars and chandeliers and alcoves and you coming in all handsome in breeches and boots, it's like the cover of a Barbara Cartland novel.'

    `Good,' said Red, who was fiddling around with the mirrors on the dressing table, pulling them in front of the bed to reflect any forthcoming action. He looked up and smiled, revelling in her embarrassment.

    Sweat was cascading down her body, her pounding heart made her totally breathless.

    `R-red, there's something I've got to tell you.'

    `Oh dear,' sighed Red, sitting down in a gold satin armchair and lighting a yellow Sobranie. `Don't tell me you've got your period. Some guys don't mind, but I've never enjoyed the flavour of the monthly.' Then, when she didn't laugh, `It's a joke.'

    Perdita gazed miserably down at her painted toenails. `I know I come on blasé,' she muttered, `but I've never been to bed with anyone in my life.'

    Red choked on his whisky. `You what?'

    `I'm a virgin.'

    `You've gotta be joking,' he said incredulously. `What the hell's Ricky been doing all these years?'

    `Not me,' whispered Perdita.

    `Well, Luke then?'

    `Luke didn't because he thought I was in love with Ricky. Anyway, he's such a gentleman.'

    `Unlike me,' said Red icily. `Are you having me on? I figured virgins were extinct.'

    `I'm sorry.' Perdita hung her head dejectedly. `You were expecting nights and days of sophisticated passion. After Auriel, I'm going to be such an anti-climax.'

    Standing there in a shirt much too big for her, a tear stealing down her pale cheek, like a raindrop on a magnolia petal, bruises still faintly violet on her long legs, she looked so unbelievably touching that Red's face softened.

    `I'm not anti climaxes,' he said. `I'm rather good at giving them to people. We took your L-plates off when we clipped your mane. Come here.'

    Violently trembling, Perdita walked forward until she was almost touching his knees.

    `Take off that shirt.'

    Each button seemed suddenly far too big for its buttonhole. Red's cock's going to be far too big for me, she thought in panic.

    `Hurry up,' he said sharply, then as the shirt slid to the

    carpet: `Now fold it up. I'll pick up your bills, but not your clothes.'

    `Bastard,' said Perdita, as she picked up the shirt.

    Red tipped up one of the white lampshades, so her body was flooded with light. Her hands fluttered to cover as much as they could.

    `Look at me,' he snapped.

    Dragging her eyes upwards as if they were ten-pound weights, she was amazed that he was laughing and his eyes were full of affection.

    `I like being the first. I can break you exactly the way I want.'

    Stubbing out his cigarette, he took her waist in both hands to still the trembling, and pulled her down on to his knee.

    Then he kissed her with incredible gentleness, his mouth cold but tasting slightly ashy from whisky and cigarettes, on and on as his fingers crept up her thighs till he found the damp, blond, pubic hair.

    `You're sweet,' he murmured, examining her. `All pink, tender and glistening, like the inside of a guava.'

    As he inserted a finger, she jumped like a branded filly.

    `It's OK, darling, you're tight, but not that tight. I'll get you so sopping beforehand, I'll slide in like a cartridge into a twelve bore.'

    Perdita had no-one else to judge him by, but had no doubt as he got to work she was in the hands of an expert. For a start he was so detached, and for another he was determined to excise the word `no' from her vocabulary.

    `Red, you can't lick me there, truly you can't, or there, and Christ almighty, certainly not there.'

    `Shut up and enjoy it.'

    Ten minutes later his tongue was circling her clitoris like an electric eel, his thumb was sliding relentlessly but slowly in and out of her vagina and his middle finger was stabbing in and out of her anus, and it was so excruciatingly shaming and enjoyable she found she was shrieking her head off.

    `Hush, my angel, you'll frighten the monkeys.'

    And as he promised when he finally drove his cock into her, she was so sodden and slippery with desire she hardly felt anything beyond a brief, excruciating pain. Then, as hemoved in and out of her, his hand delicately caressed her clitoris, sideways, up and down, round and round driving her in to a no man's land of pleasure.

    `I love you, I love you,' she moaned. `I know I've never loved anyone else in my life.'

    Not even Luke?' His face over hers was almost satanic. `Go on say it.'

    Not even Luke. Oh please, please go on.'

    `D'you know who's responsible for my being so good in bed?' he asked her as they had a very late breakfast next morning.

    `Bloody Auriel, I suppose.'

    `My mother.'

    `Grace,' said Perdita in amazement. `She told you how to do all that?'

    `No, no, but being a goddam intellectual snob, she insisted I learn the violin and the flute, and locked me into the playroom to practise. Little did I think, as I double-stopped and double-tongued how useful it would be later. I was also underwater swimming champion at school which is why I can go down for so long without taking a breath.'

    Perdita giggled and spread apricot jam on a second croissant.

    `You are appallingly conceited,' she said, kissing his shoulder, `and totally accurate. Do you think the maids will mind there being blood all over the sheets?'

    `We're paying them fifteen hundred dollars a night not to,' said Red, pulling her into his arms. He knew exactly the spot just an inch below her nipples where her breasts were most responsive. Was it his expertise or her desire that made it so unbelievably pleasurable?

    `I can't think why I've done without sex for so long,' she said, arching against him, desperate for him to go on.

    `There's only one thing better than pussy in the world,' said Red looking at his watch.

    `What's that?'

    `Polo. Go and run me a bath.'

    Red and Perdita had only one cataclysmic row during

    their first week. They had been driving round the island congratulating themselves on avoiding the press for so long. Looking at the monkeys swaying and chattering in the trees and the brilliantly coloured birds and flowers, and the hedges alight with fireflies and huge moths as big as bats, Perdita thought how much Luke would have loved it. She hoped one day they could be friends and perhaps, fingers crossed, he would become her brother-in-law.

    They stopped for dinner at Pongool on the North Coast, and sat gazing over the Straits at the lights of Johore. Near by a boy calmly dismembered crabs for their dinner. Ten minutes later they were eating them.

    `God, they're delicious,' said Perdita guiltily. `I'm getting awfully hardened. I couldn't have eaten them a week ago, having seen them killed like that.'

    `You need toughening up. You're far too emotional.'

    They ate with their fingers off banana leaves instead of plates. From all directions came dollops of rice, beans, squid, giant prawns, lobster and the recently dismembered crabs.

    `Christ, you need a fire extinguisher to eat the chillies,' gasped Perdita, taking a huge slug of white wine. `No, thank you,' she shuddered as the waiter offered her a large fish's head.

    `Gourmets suck the eyeballs,' said Red, lighting a cigarette.

    `Ugh,' said Perdita.

    `It's an acquired taste. You mustn't be so squeamish.'

    `Beautiful stars,' said Perdita dreamily. She longed to stroke his thighs, but he'd go berserk if she spread chilli sauce all over his white trousers.

    `Stars much bigger in Kenya,' said Red, tipping his head back. `I'll take you there one day.'

    Perdita thought she'd never been happier in her life. `Can I have some brandy?'

    `You've had enough.' Red beckoned for the bill. `Don't want to dull your reflexes. I've got some amylnitrate and a couple of incredibly blue movies back at the hotel. They'll blow your mind.'

    The moment they were back in the Brunei Suite, however, the telephone rang.

    `OK, terrific, come on up,' said Red. Then, turningto Perdita, `Go and have a shower, darling. I've got a surprise for you.'

    Perdita was wary of Red's surprises. It might be the twins, or even the
News of the World.
Anything for novelty.

    But when she wandered into the drawing room ten minutes later in a pale pink silk kimono, she found sitting in one of the pale armchairs one of the prettiest Chinese girls she had ever seen.

    `This is Doris Chow,' said Red.

    Perdita giggled and wondered if Doris had a black tongue.

    `Hi,' she said. `I'm mad about Singapore. Have you lived here long?'

    `All my life,' said Doris.

    `Doris is a teacher,' drawled Red.

    `Oh really. What d'you teach?'

    `Sex,' said Red softly; then, to Perdita's utter horror, he put out a hand and started to caress the Chinese girl's neck just above her jade-green cheongsam. `Isn't she beautiful?' With the other hand he started pulling pins out of her black hair.

    `What the hell are you playing at?' whispered Perdita.

    `She's going to give you a few lessons,' said Red as though he was explaining fractions to a seven year old. `You're coming along nicely, but your technique lacks finesse. Wild Barry Bartlett says Doris gives head better than anyone else in Singapore.'

    The next minute Perdita had picked up a vase and thrown it at Red.

    `You perverted bloody bastard.'

    Maddeningly, Red caught it, putting it down on the glass table in the middle of the room.

    `Don't be silly,' he said sharply as Perdita reached for an ashtray.

    Bursting into tears, she fled to the bedroom.

    `I won't do it, I won't. D'you want to turn me into a fucking dyke? Don't make me, please, please, Red. I'm sorry I'm not good enough. I'll read sex books, I'll watch blue movies. Can't
you
tell me where I'm going wrong, not her?'

    Most hearts would have melted, not Red's.

    `Why are you making such a stupid fuss over something

    that'll turn out so nice later? You'd think nothing of going to Hugh Dawnay or Peter Grace to learn polo. What's so different about sex? A few practicals with Doris, and you'll be almost up to Auriel's standards.'

    Wham, Perdita had slapped him across the face. Wham, he slapped her back much harder.

    `I can't, Red, truly I can't.'

    `You will if you want to stay with me. If not, there's a plane back to England leaving first thing in the morning.'

    After Doris had gone hours later, Perdita cried herself to sleep on the sofa in the drawing room. Sometime towards dawn she woke to find Red standing by the window. He was smoking, with an untouched glass of whisky beside him on the table. In the pale light filtering through the net curtains, he looked ghastly, his shoulders hunched, his eyeliner smudged beneath sad, despairing eyes - the picture of desolation.

    `Red,' she called out, forgetting the desperate humiliation through which he'd put her, `are you OK?'

    As though he were continents away he looked at her for a second in bewilderment. They met halfway across the room, collapsing into each other's arms.

    `I'm sorry.' His lips were against her forehead. `I'll never put you through anything like that again. I'll make you happy, I promise. I don't know what gets into me.'

    `I love you,' mumbled Perdita, who only felt passionate relief he'd forgiven her. `I thought I'd lost you.'