Still Thinking of You (20 page)

Lloyd smiled to himself. Of course the gang wanted him to be here, why else would Rich have asked him? My God, he was beginning to be as paranoid as Sophie. Well, he felt welcome; he was relaxed. These were his people. This holiday was going to be the perfect antidote to the heavy days he’d endured of late.

Lloyd spotted Ted just ahead of him. A slither of competitive spirit glided up his spine. Ted didn’t look as confident on his skis as Lloyd did, even though Ted had skied since he was a child. This black run was clearly too much of a challenge, as Ted was beginning to wobble. He was a bit close to the edge there. Was he going to recover it? Lloyd’s delight at being the better skier instantly turned to fear that his friend was in real trouble.

Lloyd started to speed up and head towards Ted – although, through experience, he knew that he couldn’t really do anything to help. In a split second Ted managed to pull himself away from the crevasse, but he’d taken the turn too suddenly. He panicked and fell head over heels. Ted landed with a violent thud. Even from a few hundred yards away Lloyd could see it wasn’t good. Ted’s ankle was twisted underneath him. The ski on that foot was still attached. Although his poles were splayed at a distance, and the other ski had flown over the edge. It was unlikely that they’d be able to rescue it, but more worryingly it showed Lloyd just how close a call the fall had been. Lloyd skied to a halt next to Ted.

‘Ted, buddy, are you all right? Shit, that looked nasty.’

Ted nodded, but said nothing. Lloyd looked around for help. A couple of other skiers were heading towards them, to see if they could assist.

‘Didn’t you see how close you were?’ he asked. His tone was that of an angry parent ticking off a child for wandering away from the trolley in the supermarket, a collision of emotion, relief and fear. Ted remained silent and wouldn’t look at Lloyd. Instead, he sat up in the snow and slowly inched his leg from out beneath him. Lloyd decided that the best course of action was to recover the lost poles. Having done so, he returned to Ted and the small crowd of two or three skiers that were standing around being, in varying degrees, useful. One of them had a walkie-talkie and was radioing for help.

‘Where does it hurt?’ asked Lloyd. It was an automatic question – clearly the twisted ankle was causing Ted’s face to curl in pain. ‘Can you move it?’

Ted moved his leg, then rotated his foot.

And then he let out a wail. It wasn’t a wail of pain, more of despair. Lloyd was shocked and didn’t know what to say.

‘Come on, old chap, buck up. We’ll get you down from here.’ He bent down to pat his friend on the back. He was embarrassed for him. There were strangers standing close by, and Ted was wailing like a baby.

‘It’s shock,’ explained Lloyd to the others.

One woman was wearing a rucksack; she opened it and produced a big bar of chocolate. She broke off a slab and offered it to Ted. He didn’t even acknowledge her or her chocolate.

‘It’s OK, Ted. It’s not broken.’ But Lloyd’s words of consolation couldn’t help. Ted began to sob. They were deep sobs that shook his massive six-foot-two frame and made him suddenly appear like a child. Tears, actual tears, began to pour down his face. Lloyd was stunned. He’d never seen Ted cry. None of the guys cried. Well, except for Jase when he went through that stage of doing drugs as a sort of hobby. He’d insisted that it was part of his job description. He’d had a few particularly hairy trips and come down crying. But that was chemical, not emotional.

‘Mate, get a grip. It’s not broken, you’re just shocked.’

‘No, I’m not,’ insisted Ted. ‘I’m ruined. I’m fucking ruined.’ And then he fell back into the snow and lay staring at the blue sky while he howled like an animal.

34. Kicking Back

Tash eased her feet out of her boots and wiggled her toes. She edged down her waterproof trousers and protective padding. The relief was enormous – she felt like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. However cosy it was in that cocoon, nothing felt better than a good stretch. She reached for the ceiling, then bent at the waist and allowed her upper body to flop forwards. She could comfortably place her hands flat on the floor, while keeping her legs straight. She practised yoga at least four times a week, which left her supple and flexible. It was a hobby Rich encouraged. Tash stretched for about ten minutes, finishing with a stretch into the mini bar to retrieve a packet of peanut M&Ms before she collapsed on to the huge bed, still dressed in thermal long johns, vest and socks.

Tash smiled to herself. Life was good. She’d had a fantastic morning in the snow with Jayne. They’d had a real giggle. Jayne was so sweet and interested. They hadn’t got round to talking about Jayne’s ex because all Jayne did was direct the conversation back to Tash the entire time. That was a sign of good breeding, genuine manners. Jayne seemed to be fascinated by everything Tash had to say. She wanted to know what schools Tash went to, where she bought her clothes, which gym she was a member at – everything including her favourite sandwich filling. And they’d covered some miles, until Tash had lost Jayne. Jayne was so much faster, they’d somehow lost sight of one another. Tash was exhausted.

The hotel changed the sheets every day, and yet as she lay on the bed a memory of Rich’s lovemaking, the night before, seeped into Tash’s mind.

Since meeting one another, Tash and Rich had made love in every imaginable way. Sometimes slowly, carefully, respectfully and sometimes hurriedly, frantically, filthily. They were daring, imaginative and experienced lovers, so they had naturally swung from one position to another, one location to the next. They prided themselves on ticking off ‘firsts’ – their first time in the open air, the first time in a train – and they christened every room in both their flats, utilizing every surface that was sturdy enough to take their weight. They would fall on to a chair, the bed, the stairs, up against a wall, and vigorously kiss one another over and over again. Naturally interweaving their limbs so that it became difficult to know where each body started and finished. Their hands, tongues and lips would race to rediscover every part of one another’s bodies.

Naturally, he knew the curve of her breast and the fit between her thighs as well as she knew his penis, balls and buttocks, but they also knew every other inch of one another’s bodies. Many times he’d traced the fine blue veins that ran down the back of her knees. He’d sucked each of her toes. He’d kissed, lapped and caressed every vertebra on her spine, the mole on her ribcage and the cuticles of her fingernails. And she had explored the mounds, the ridges, the sinew and tissue that curved to form his thighs, the crook of his elbow, the bridge of his nose, the knuckles on his hands. They knew the smooth bits, the soft bits, the hard bits, the tender bits of each other’s bodies.

And yet last night had been different again. Quite a different sort of first.

Last night Rich had made love to Tash with a new intensity. He was always a considerate and accomplished lover. One who gave her great pleasure, somehow managing to combine familiarity and joyful surprises, shocking eroticism with a sense of wellbeing and peace. But last night as he entered her, he took her head in both his hands and stared at her. His look was strong, vibrant and purposeful. His lovemaking confirmed that he loved her and acknowledged that she loved him back. His raw, searching gaze was trying to communicate something more, trying to ask for something more. He knew her, and he was begging her to know him. To know him and to love him still.

Wordlessly, Tash had reacted to his needs. She tightened the muscles in her thighs and groin and held on to him. He moved leisurely and deftly, then more rapidly and vigorously. Nothing mattered except the two of them, at that moment, on that bed. She came. He came. They waited and repeated everything all over again. After the second time, the recovery took longer, but despite his exhaustion and her rawness he climbed back on top of her and started over. They bounced through their orgasms, falling, springing and shuddering.

‘I want to stay here for ever,’ he told her, ‘just here.’ A drop of his sweat fell from his nose and splashed on to her face. She blinked to stop it going in her eye. ‘I want to be joined to you. To be inseparable.’

‘We are inseparable,’ she assured him, and Tash trembled with joy at having found something so perfect.

What were the odds? Logistically everything was set against finding such perfection. The world was awash with hazards and miscommunications, pressures and lost opportunities that conspired to take you away from such happiness. But in that moment Tash enjoyed a bit of heaven on earth, and she had no reason to believe that it would be anything other than endless.

There was a knock at the door which startled Tash from her luxuriant memories.

‘It’s me, Jayne.’

Tash ran to the door and flung it open. ‘Hi, I lost you.’

‘Yes, but I found Jason.’

‘Was he with Rich?’

‘Yes. Rich was there, too, being all macho and gorgeous. Darling, he is a beauty.’ Tash grinned. She knew that Jayne was the type of girl to scatter compliments liberally, but it was always good to hear nice things being said of Rich. ‘I’m not disturbing you, am I?’

‘Not at all. I was lying here thinking life is pretty damn perfect and that can’t be improved upon except by a bit of company.’

‘You are so lucky.’ Jayne forced out a small smile as she entered the room. Tash mentally kicked herself. It wasn’t exactly tactful to gloat about just how perfect your life was to someone who had just split up from their boyfriend. ‘Listen, darling, I’ve booked us both into the spa. I’m going to have one of those mud wraps that promise to make me disappear.’

‘There’s not a picking on you,’ Tash pointed out, as Jayne knew she would. No matter how often it was said, she always liked to hear it again.

‘Thanks. And I’ve booked you a massage. Then we are both having manicures and, if there’s time, pedicures.’

‘My God, that’s amazing. I was planning on getting all this stuff done, but I hadn’t got round to booking anything. I was sort of imagining I’d get a last-minute appointment on Thursday.’

‘You can’t leave anything to chance in these matters,’ scolded Jayne. ‘It’s too important. What if there aren’t any appointments on Thursday? That would be so tragic.’

Tash was sure she’d have managed, even if there hadn’t been any pre-wedding pampering. She couldn’t imagine Rich calling the whole thing off because her bikini line wasn’t neat, but like any woman she was thrilled by the prospect of spending a couple of hours in the beautician’s. ‘I’ll have to give you some cash. I couldn’t possibly let you pay,’ said Tash, as she darted around the room looking for her swimming costume and bathrobe.

‘Oh, don’t worry. I put it all on Ted’s room account. Big bruv is so stacked that he can treat us. Think of it as a wedding pressie.’

‘No, I couldn’t,’ said Tash, embarrassed. ‘Ted and Kate have already been crazily generous. They’ve offered to buy all the drink at the reception, and Kate has ordered vintage champagne. Plus they spent nearly 600 quid on bedding for our flat. Can you imagine 600 quid on sheets and stuff? I can’t thank them enough as it is.’

Tash was ready; she picked up her key and followed Jayne out the door, making a mental note to herself to swap the cost of the treatments to her room bill.

35. Hot Water

Jayne watched Tash dip her toe into the hot tub. They’d been asked to relax there until the beauticians were ready to begin the treatments. Tash’s limbs were long, lithe and lily white. Her toe broke the surface of the water and sent ripples to the edge of the tub. For some reason, the unwelcome image of Rich’s cock sinking into Tash clambered into Jayne’s head. She fought it off. The droplets of water glistened on Tash’s shoulder, and Jayne wondered if Tash perspired a lot when she had sex with Rich. Tash had pinned her hair in a chaotic up do, but one or two rebellious strands were insisting on tumbling down about her face. The strands of hair looked like fingers, and Jayne thought of Rich tenderly cupping Tash’s chin as he leant in to kiss her lips.

‘Fuck!’ Jayne’s expletive echoed around the watery chamber, bouncing on the pool surface and off the tiny mosaic tiles, breaking the peace of the spa.

‘What is it?’ asked Tash.

‘Oh, nothing. I just stubbed my toe,’ lied Jayne.

Jayne could see why Rich might fall in love with Tash and so hated her. Her collarbone was sublime, her tits were tiny but pert, and her legs looked strong and muscular. Jayne loathed her.

‘So, tell me how you met Rich?’ asked Jayne, picking up on where she’d left the conversation that morning.

‘Usual thing, a party. A friend of mine from work was hosting a “spring into spring party”, and Rich came along with my friend’s brother.’

‘Was that last spring?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, you haven’t known each other very long, then, not even a year.’ Jayne thought it was unlikely that she was the first person to point this out to Tash, but she was determined to try to sow seeds of doubt wherever she could. She figured that if she threw them liberally enough, eventually one or two would take root.

‘Seems like I’ve always known him,’ mused Tash.

Both girls fell silent, and the only noise was the hum of the Jacuzzi and a drip, drip, drip somewhere distant. Tash found the drip, drip, drip mesmeric and felt the tissue in her body slowly relax. Jayne thought the drip, drip, drip was deeply irritating, and with each drop her shoulders tightened and she dug her nails deeper into her palm.

‘They ought to get a plumber to fix that,’ she complained.

‘Fix what?’ asked Tash, proving to Jayne that she didn’t have very high standards of what was acceptable in a five-star spa.

‘You’re so brave. Aren’t you even a little bit worried that it’s all so whirlwind? Do you think you’ve known each other long enough?’ asked Jayne, forcing herself to forget the dripping.

‘What is long enough? How can you measure feeling by clocks?’

‘That’s very romantic. I must be a bit of a coward. I’d only feel confident if I’d known someone a good few years before I made the most enormous commitment.’

‘How long have you known Jason?’ asked Tash, with a huge grin.

‘What?’

‘You don’t have to be shy with me. He hasn’t made a secret of the fact that he is mad keen for you, and when Rich and I came back from our sleigh ride last night I saw the two of you slip into Jason’s room, so I can only assume that the interest isn’t all one way.’ Tash grinned, enjoying gently teasing Jayne.

‘We didn’t have sex,’ declared Jayne. Tash raised her eyebrows sceptically. ‘I don’t sleep with men unless I’m in love with them. We just fooled around,’ insisted Jayne.

Tash had come across women like this before, but they were usually much younger than Jayne. They insisted that sex was only sex if there was penetration, and they were prepared to do everything in the sack other than that final deed, in order to convince themselves that they were somehow more reserved than was truly the case. Tash thought it was a misplaced prudery that allowed women to swallow cum, but still say that they hadn’t had sex. Not least because they were often denying themselves their own orgasm. She decided not to say as much to Jayne. Jayne looked vexed enough as it was. Pointing out the folly of giving pleasure while receiving none was unlikely to put a smile on her face.

What was she upset about? Was she embarrassed? She had no need to be. Jayne and Jason were single, consenting and well past their twenty-first birthdays.

It struck Tash that Jayne was a peculiar cocktail of sophistication and immaturity. On one hand, she appeared to be so sorted, the epitome of erudition and the ultimate girl-around-town. On the other, she was like a little girl, diving into her mother’s wardrobe to dress up and play a part for which she wasn’t ready. She might live in a flat in Chelsea and drive around in a soft-top BMW Z4 series, but both the flat and the car were paid for by her parents. Her friends were her brother’s friends. And Tash could now see, as she was so up close and personal in the hot tub, that Jayne’s boobs and nose belonged to a surgeon, probably one on Harley Street. It seemed that Jayne didn’t have anything she could faithfully call her own. Jayne reminded Tash of a beautiful, hand-blown champagne flute, vulnerable and brittle. Tash was beginning to sense that Jayne wasn’t as happy as she ought to be, or as she pretended to be. She supposed it was the recent break-up of her relationship. That’s why Tash had been so pleased to see that Jason and Jayne were starting something up. If nothing else, Jason would provide a good distraction.

‘He really likes you,’ Tash assured Jayne.

‘Do you think so?’ Jayne scooped up the water from the tub and let it trickle through her hands on to her face. She couldn’t have cared less if Jason liked her or not. In fact, she was peeved that Tash had spotted her entering his room. She didn’t want anyone other than Rich linking her to Jase, least of all Tash.

‘Do you like him?’ probed Tash.

‘I was drunk, it was just a bit of fun,’ replied Jayne dismissively. She didn’t want to waste time talking about Jason. ‘Tell me, how did you know when you met Rich that he was the One?’

Tash thought this enquiry cancelled out the declaration that Jase was ‘just a bit of fun’. She remembered asking engaged and married women the same thing, ‘But how do you
know
?’ Tash had hoped to identify the secret formula before she met the One so that he didn’t take her by surprise or, worse still, she didn’t miss him in a crowd of also-rans. She’d always found the reply to her question horribly vague – ‘You just do.’ It was extremely infuriating. Therefore she was determined not to churn out the same cliché for Jayne.

‘He makes my life seem more significant. Everything we do together, even the stupid, ordinary stuff, such as picking out microwave meals in the supermarket, is more fun when we do it together. He leaves me feeling gleaming, you know? Excited, sparkly. From our very first kiss, my existence took on a greater import. Clarity. I hadn’t even realized it was fuzzy until I met him.’

‘You sound really lusted up,’ said Jayne. In fact, Tash had described falling in love with a pithy directness that Jayne resented and recognized.

‘And the more time we spent together, the more I came to realize how compatible we are. We have the same values and priorities. Rich understands my belief that honesty is the foundation to, well, everything. Relationships, our sense of self, our sense of history and even our hope in the future. I mean, when all is said and done, our lives are just a series of stories that we tell, aren’t they? That’s why it’s so important to tell those stories as faithfully as possible because without that desire for sincerity we don’t exist. I’d tried to explain this to men before and they never got it or, if they did, they weren’t prepared to live by it. One hundred per cent honesty isn’t an easy thing to try to achieve. But Rich gets it. He gets me. And he wants the same level of integrity.’

Jayne could tell her now. She could simply burst this stupid girl’s bubble by telling her that he hadn’t been 100 per cent honest with her. That he had an enormous secret which he was trying to keep from her and planned always to keep from her. So, far from this marriage being built on principles of trust, fidelity and honesty, it was already swamped in deceit.

But Jayne knew that speaking out now was a risk. If she told Tash about her affair with Rich, Tash might not believe it; they had only known each other five minutes. She might suspect her motives, as well she ought.

Or, even if she did believe Jayne, she might find it in her heart to forgive Rich. If Tash were desperate and determined to marry Rich – which Jayne assumed must be the case, and she could relate to that – then she would sweep his indiscretion under the carpet. Lots of women did the same.

That wouldn’t do.

The betrayal had to be absolute and present, rather than historical. Plus she needed it to be revealed to Tash by someone other than herself. Tash’s humiliation had to be complete.

‘How do you get along with Rich’s friends?’ asked Jayne.

Tash hesitated. Her honest response, ‘Varies’, was clearly not appropriate when Jayne had known them all for a long time; she was related to some, and sucking the penis of another. Was she a particular friend of Mia’s? Where did Jayne’s loyalties lie?

‘Mia can be a bitch, can’t she?’ declared Jayne, clearing up the issue of loyalty.

‘I haven’t really got to know everyone properly yet,’ Tash said cautiously. She never liked this kind of conversation. She really had listened to the advice her mother had drilled into her as a child: ‘If you haven’t anything nice to say, keep your mouth shut.’

‘I always believed Kate married Ted for our money,’ stated Jayne.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes, my mother thinks the same.’

‘They seem very happy,’ said Tash, stunned at Jayne’s revelation.

‘He’s henpecked. He can’t form an opinion on his own any more. She has him tied so tightly. You must have thought the same thing.’ Tash wondered if she should allow herself a small nod. ‘And they are all terribly cliquey. They don’t really take to strangers joining their gang, do they?’ added Jayne.

‘I do sometimes feel a bit of an outsider,’ Tash admitted. ‘I don’t always know who they are talking about and, of course, they have so many shared memories that I can never be part of.’

‘And doesn’t Mia like bringing up their past.’

Tash nodded. ‘But I think things will get easier, the longer we know each other.’

‘Don’t bet on it,’ Jayne said grimly. She sighed, then added, ‘Poor Sophie.’

‘Sophie?’

‘Lloyd’s ex-wife. It’s so sad. Lloyd and Sophie were so in love in the early days, but it’s my belief that in the end she simply got sick of being lonely in company. That’s why their marriage didn’t make it.’

‘What do you mean by her being lonely in company?’ asked Tash.

‘You know what I mean,’ said Jayne, looking directly at Tash, meeting her eyes for the first time since they’d slipped into the tub. ‘I never understood what Mia had against Sophie. I guess she felt that Sophie wasn’t a “fit”. It’s not as though Mia wanted Lloyd for herself. There was never a physical attraction there, not like with –’ Jayne broke off and put her hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry, I’ve been indiscreet.’

‘What?’

‘Well, Rich and Mia, they must have been attracted to one another once, mustn’t they? He told you they used to be lovers.’

‘Not lovers, it was just a fling. A long time ago.’

‘I’m not saying Rich still feels that pull.’ Jayne paused and allowed her words to sink in. ‘It’s just people rarely take an unmotivated dislike to someone, and I couldn’t imagine anyone taking a dislike to you. Not under normal circumstances.’

‘So you think Mia dislikes me?’

‘I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to picking up on quite a bit of tension between the two of you. I haven’t offended you, have I?’

‘No, not at all. I agree that Mia has said some surprisingly cutting things. But I’d held on to a vague hope that it was nothing personal and that she just had some issues of her own, you know? I accept we don’t have much in common, but no one wants to think they are actively disliked, do they? And Rich insisted that there was nothing really malicious about her. I’d begun to think I was exaggerating the situation in my mind. Rich kind of implied that was the case.’

‘He would say that, wouldn’t he?’ said Jayne, delighted that she’d tapped into one of Tash’s concerns.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Their loyalty to one another runs very deeply. Very deeply indeed. Besides, if we are right in thinking that Mia does still hold a torch for him, he’s bound to have noticed. He couldn’t not have. She’s always hanging around him, following him to the pool hall, insisting he teach her how to board.’

‘Do you think so?’ Tash was surprised. Rich had never suggested that there might be a sexual tension.

‘Yes, and he couldn’t help but be flattered. Mia is very attractive. I’m not saying he’d act on it, not in a million years. He’s just flattered.’ Jayne reached out and squeezed Tash’s shoulder. ‘But there’s nothing to worry about. You trust him, don’t you?’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Tash.

‘There, then.’ Jayne smiled, and then glanced at her fingertips. ‘I look like a prune. I’m going to hunt out the beautician and insist on my mud wrap now. Catch you later.’

She pulled herself out of the hot tub and walked towards the treatment rooms, leaving Tash to nurture the seeds she’d sown. Jayne doubted that it would be difficult to grow some shoots of discontent. After all, she’d poured on enough manure.