Twisted Agendas Page 11

  Julia let go of the hamper and began to walk briskly toward the stile, frequently peering over her shoulder as she made her way. The bull began to canter. Shrieking now, Julia started to run. Katie and the children didn’t move.

  “JULIA, STOP RUNNING,” Katie called. “Bruno’s friendly. He’s testing you.”

  “Aunt Julia, don’t be scared,” Charlotte said.

  She heard Rupert’s high-pitched laughter, looked over her shoulder again and saw Katie, still clutching Charlotte’s hand, shooing the bull away. It turned around and began to walk back to rejoin the herd of bemused cows. Rupert sprinted toward her.

  “It’s all right,” he said, and held out his hand for her to take. It felt clammy, just as a little boy’s hands would feel. “I’ll guard you. You’re safe now.”

  Katie burst out laughing as they walked up to her.

  “How was I supposed to know he wasn’t dangerous?” Julia said. “It’s not that funny.”

  “It’s very funny,” said Katie.

  “I don’t understand animals like you country people do.”

  “You run really well, doesn’t she, Rupert?”

  He made an attempt not to giggle. The shock having passed, Julia was unable to quash her own smile. It blossomed into a chuckle and then outright laughter, which the others interpreted as an open invitation to join her.

  “It’s so beautiful here.” Julia lay beside Katie, her mind suspended between the alcohol buzz and lull of the trickling water.

  Katie squeezed her arm gently.

  Julia finished her Pimm’s, immersed her thumb and forefinger into the glass and fished out a slice of apple which she popped into her mouth. Stalks of tender grass pressed pleasurably against the back of her neck. She set down her glass and began to lazily explore a dock leaf, sliding the pads of her fingers first along the glossy surface and then its rougher underside. Nearby, a bumblebee moved about a clover flower collecting pollen. Further away, she could hear Charlotte calling to her brother as they played hide and seek within the ash thicket near the riverbank.

  They stroked one another’s forearms for a while and then clasped hands and squeezed tightly. Charlotte finished a twenty count.

  “It’d be hard for me to live here like you do, Katie. The quiet’s a pro and a con.”

  “The children love it here… and so does Harry.” She took a deep breath. “As you’ve found out, he likes to play gentleman farmer.”

  Julia lifted her head slightly, squinted and peered up at the sun. “I’m a city girl. Through and through.”

  “I could live in town again, just not now. Maybe when the children go off to boarding school.”

  She pondered her lover’s words. “Does Harry know you’re planning to pack them off to boarding school?”

  “We make these decisions together.” Katie fell quiet for a moment, then squeezed Julia’s arm. “Did you bring the cuffs, darling?”

  “Aha.”

  “And the rope?”

  “You are so bloody kinky.” Julia rolled on her side and propped herself up with an elbow. “Are all suburban housewives like this or is it just you?”

  Katie giggled.

  Leaning over, Julia kissed her fully on the mouth. The wide plump lips were velvet and yielding. She drew back and peered down at her lover whose hair was fanned about her head like a splayed peacock tail. Katie raised her arm, cupped her hand around the back of Julia’s neck and pulled her down toward her again. They kissed more urgently.

  Julia heard the gasp before comprehending what it was she’d actually heard. She sat up instantly. Rupert stood in the gap between an alley of brambles, his eyes enormous, right hand clamped against his mouth. Instantly, Katie pushed her aside like an unwanted toy.

  “Where… where’s your sister?” she asked.

  “Mummy, why are you kissing her?”

  “We weren’t kissing, darling.”

  “You were.”

  “Something bit me and Julia was sucking the sting out.”

  “You were kissing like Daddy kisses you.”

  Julia couldn’t help bristling.

  “Where’s Charlotte?” Katie said.

  “She’s looking for me.”

  “Fetch her at once. We’re going home. I need to tend to my lip.”

  He made no attempt to move, just stared at them sullenly.

  “Do as I say, Rupert. Now.”

  He turned and sprinted through the shrubbery. While they waited, they frantically discussed the options. Julia thought Katie needed to be honest, but also state it’d been for a lark. Katie disagreed.

  “He’s clearly upset,” Julia said.

  “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When he’s a man, he’ll fantasise about two women kissing. All men do.”

  The children appeared around the bend in the river.

  As they wended their way across the meadow, Charlotte, who’d run ahead to be with her pony, stopped and called to them her father was home.

  “Don’t be silly,” Katie called. “He’s not back till Sunday.”

  “She’s right, Mum,” said Rupert, his high-pitched voice too dangerously animated for Julia’s comfort. “His car’s parked beside hers.” He tossed Julia an evil glance.

  Shading her eyes with her hand, Julia looked over to where she’d parked. Something glinted above her car’s roof, but it was too blurry and formless to determine if it was the Range Rover.

  “Oh, Daddy is home,” Katie said, after they got to the stile.

  Julia and Katie traded glances.

  When they reached the paddock gate leading to the lawn, the kitchen door opened and a man stepped out. He waved as he walked toward them.

  Charlotte yelled excitedly and ran to her father. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her.

  Over six-foot tall with artistically unkempt hair, tanned forearms protruding from the rolled up sleeves of his faded denim shirt and sporting a thick, highly polished wedding ring on his finger, he was precisely what Julia imagined a television director should look like. He was also at least ten years older than his wife. But neither his age nor the ludicrous idea of someone so tall making love to Katie was what surprised her most. What surprised her most was his unclipped salt-and-pepper beard. She’d always assumed Katie disliked body hair. She’d once complained about Julia’s unshaved underarms when she’d put on a sleeveless T-shirt.

  “Aunt Julia’s afraid of the bull, Daddy,” Charlotte said. “Isn’t that right, Rupert?”

  Her brother didn’t answer. His eyes darted from his mother to Julia.

  “We meet at last, Aunt Julia,” said Harry.

  “We do,” she said.

  “Dad, I saw something very naughty,” Rupert said. He shot his mother a sly look.

  “Rupert, Charlotte, go to your rooms and wash your hands,” Katie said.

  “What naughty thing did your brother see, Poppet?” her husband asked.

  “Julia ran away from the bull,” Katie said. She glared at her son. “Isn’t that so?”

  “Yes, but… ”

  “And you were very brave and came to my rescue,” said Julia.

  “Well done, sport,” his father said. “Helping the ladies, eh? That’s my boy.”

  “Rupert, Mummy wants you and your sister to wash your hands and arms right away,” Katie said. “There’s nightshade where you were playing. If you touched it, your skin will blister.”

  “Both of you go and wash up,” said Harry, as he put Charlotte down.

  “Did something happen?” Katie asked her husband.

  “We’ve postponed until early next week. I called your mobile.”

  “I didn’t have it switched on.”

  “I also called here and left a message with Mrs. Ratcliffe.” Harry smiled at Julia. “I was beginning to think you were a figment of my children’s imagination. You’re only ever here when I’m not.”

  “Julia’s staying for a few days.”

 
“I know.” He turned to Julia. “Mrs. Ratcliffe put your things into our bedroom by mistake.”

  Amorphous shapes

  The girl seated diagonally across from her began to pack her books, photocopies and pens into the clear plastic bag all the students brought with them to the library. When she’d first started at the university and learned she was forbidden to bring her backpack and snacks into the library, Piper had been blown away. Back in the States, college libraries were social centres, places where you gathered to chat with friends as well as do research. Here students had to suffer the huge inconvenience of checking their belongings into a locker that lay underground. Way underground. The basis for the crazy rule was just another one of a score of cultural habits and customs the Americans had to master when living on this side of the pond. Another was trying to figure out the rules of British politeness.

  Piper looked at the clock on the wall above the librarian’s desk. The afternoon revision session had passed quickly. Arriving at the library at ten-thirty that morning determined to catch up with reading for her final exam, she’d read large chunks from books kept at Course Collection and made lots of notes. By lunchtime, she was so pleased with her progress she agreed to go to a nearby café on Kingsway with Todd where she drank two cups of espresso, hoping the caffeine would focus her concentration for the next three hours after her return to the library.

  Only a handful of articles remained unread and she wondered if she should track them down and at least skim through them to ease her conscience before setting out for Todd’s apartment. As she deliberated, she caught the delicious tang of banana from somewhere nearby, evidence that a student was breaking another regulation in some hidden nook. Feeling hungry now, she decided to leave.

  It was raining when she got outside, one of those early summer rains with heavy drops that refreshed as they smacked into her face and bare arms. Not having brought an umbrella, her muslin blouse was soaked through and clung to her shoulders and chest by the time she reached Todd’s flat. His eyes zoomed in on her breasts like a heat-seeking missile.

  “Stop checking me out, pervert.”

  “Me? Not guilty.”

  “Are too, perv.” While intended as a joke, Piper realised it had come out a little too harsh.

  He stepped aside to let her in. “I suppose this perv had better fetch you a sweater then.”

  He disappeared down the short hallway to his room and returned with his sky-blue Berkeley jumper that he gave to her. She dried off in his tiny bathroom and hung her blouse on an ice-cold radiator. A glass of red wine on a side-table sparkled in the soft glow of a lamp when she returned to the living room. Todd was cooking in the kitchenette. The aroma of soy sauce wafted toward her. Approaching the gas stove, she picked up a morsel of chicken and blew on it before popping it into her mouth. “Yum.”

  After dinner, they went directly to his bedroom where they sprawled on his double bed and began to study. Piper wanted a third glass of wine badly, but knew she couldn’t. It didn’t take much alcohol to fog her concentration. She peeked over at Todd prone on the bed, a full glass of wine on his bedside table.

  “How can you drink wine and still cram?”

  “Shush.”

  “But doesn’t it… ?”

  “Hello! Trying to work here.”

  “That’s it,” she said, a few minutes after ten o’clock. She slammed her notebook shut.

  Todd gathered his notes and set them on the bedside table, stretched out and yawned. He rolled over on his side and looked at her. “Come here, magpie.”

  Piper ran her fingers through her hair self-consciously. “I hate it when you talk about my bad dye job.”

  “It’s nearly grown out. Come here.”

  She sidled over and they kissed. Quick as a flicked whip, Todd pushed her gently onto her back and climbed on top. Piper’s instinct was to push him off but instead she closed her eyes. He removed his glasses and laid them on his heap of study notes on the bedside table. They kissed again. His lips left hers and she felt the tip of his tongue trace along her neck. She let out a little moan. She wasn’t sure why. He thrust his tongue into her mouth. His breath grew laboured. He began tugging at her clothes. She assisted him, arching her torso off the bed and lifting up her arms so he could peel off her jumper. He fell down on her and began to suck her breasts, commuting back and forth between them.

  Moments later, he leapt off the bed and tore off his clothes. She rose also, took off her jeans and panties and fell back naked on the bed. His tongue flicked over her body, licking her cheek and down the right side of her neck. He sucked on one of her breasts while firmly kneading the other. His mouth left her breast and he zigzagged his wet tongue down her tummy. It dipped into the shallow well of her belly button as his hand gently pried open her legs. His mouth moved again and she felt his hot breath against her skin, and then his tongue was inside her. Piper experienced a strong urge to stop him but she resisted. Why did she always feel this way? Why could she not relax? She shut her eyes tighter and tighter until a roaring started up inside her ears. It sounded like the sea crashing against rocks. Loud and furious and sinister. Amorphous yellow, blue and black shapes smashed against the backs of her eyelids. Todd stopped probing abruptly, slid back up the bed and turned himself awkwardly upside down so his rigid cock was fully in her line of vision.

  “I… I can’t do that.”

  “Aw, please, hon.”

  “I don’t give blow jobs. Sorry.”

  “I did it to you.”

  “I didn’t ask.” Piper wondered why she drew the line at fellatio. Was it to do with perceived submission or a warped sense of feminism? She didn’t know. In any event, it didn’t matter. “I can’t, Todd.”

  “Hey, no problem.” He righted himself and climbed on top of her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Another time, okay?”

  She didn’t reply. He kissed her and pushed his tongue deep inside her mouth. A moment later, he was reaching inside his bedside table drawer for the condoms he stored there, at the same time pushing apart her legs to signal what he now wanted. It was as if there’d been no rejection. Piper wondered how men could be so different to women in this regard, how they could move so easily from one kind of sex to the next. Was it something they learned in boyhood? As she relaxed her body to accept him, she hoped it would be different this time.

  After he began thrusting, she closed her eyes tightly and willed herself to enjoy the experience. The amorphous shapes loomed again. Big and yellow. She felt his every thrust and withdrawal. It was neither pleasurable nor uncomfortable. She was just not engaged. The bed springs creaked. She dug her heels into the bed and began to grind against him.

  Moments later, she found herself wishing it was over. She began to consider her excellent day’s work at the library, the notes awaiting attention on her desk at home and how it all might be tackled. She saw herself seated in a lecture theatre. The face of one of her lecturers rushed forth, swiftly followed by another. A change in his breathing brought her back to him, but it didn’t last. The stir-fry he’d cooked came to mind next. Piper wondered why Chinese food was always so quickly eaten, why MSG made her mouth so dry? She’d have cooked it differently to Todd, with a dash more soy sauce and lots of fresh ginger. Definitely lots of fresh ginger.

  Todd began to breathe heavily. It would soon be over. She moaned, not too loudly in case he became suspicious. Moans always sped things along at this point. She emitted another tiny moan two seconds later, followed by two thrashes of the sides of her head against the pillow. The bedsprings began to creak satisfactorily loud. He gasped. She let out a throaty moan, followed by some rapid panting.

  “I’m gonna come,” he said.

  She let loose a storm of high-pitched moans, backed up with head thrashes and finally dug her nails into his back. All she could think of was his sweaty chest against her skin. She didn’t move a muscle.

  “That was fantastic, hon,” he said.

  “Sure w
as.”

  He rolled onto his back, reached over and began to twist a lock of her hair between his fingers. They lay in silence, she listening to the tick-tock of the clock. She counted one minute, another and then another. After five minutes, she eased away from him to the side of the bed, swung her feet to the floor and began to dress.

  “Where you goin’, honey?”

  “Home.” She lifted her right foot and forced on the sock.

  “Aw, spend the night.”

  “Can’t. My notes are at home.”

  News from home

  Subject: Hi

  From: Philomenaharris234@aol.com

  To: PIPERalways@aol.com

  Hey Phila,

  Hope this finds you well and your course is going fine. Been a while, but then I don’t hear from you either. Have you decided what kind of job you want after you’re through with college? I hope it’ll be something useful connected to your diploma and that you’re really over the writing kick you were on a while back because I met some folks in publishing recently and they told me the majority of book authors make no money.

  BTW, I’m working at a law firm now. It’s banking and securities law with a bit of white-collar stuff like DUI thrown in, but only for existing clients. They like my research skills and said they’ll pay for law school because I got accepted to Fordham. My LSAT score was 180. Columbia accepted me, too. Yeah, Columbia!

  I’ve been seeing a guy called Juan. In fact, we’ve been living together for a while now. He’s Puerto Rican and also a cop, which I know will annoy the shit out of your father. He hated it when the NYPD changed their height requirement so minorities could qualify. Juan’s recently made detective and works at the Port Authority. We’re getting married end of August so I’ve filed for divorce. I know what you’re thinking. Well, it doesn’t matter how long you know someone in my book. Juan makes me real happy. I haven’t felt this good since before Rory died. You know, I visit Rory’s grave every month. When I’m with him, I pray for you, too. He was a special little guy, and smart, and I know he’d have made something of himself if he’d been given the chance. But he didn’t get the chance, did he?