A Class Apart Page 8

  “But you’re not old,” Neil objected, casually draping his arm across the back of the seat.

  “No, not very,” she admitted. The look on Sean’s face made her smile. “Would you like to dance?” she said to him.

  He needed no second bidding, and eagerly led her back to the floor.

  He danced rather well, better than Neil, and despite the ugliness of his blond crew cut, Jenneen decided that he wasn’t so bad after all. How was she to choose between them? Well, she wouldn’t worry about that. Maybe she’d let them decide.

  The record came to an end and it looked as though Jenneen was going to leave the floor. Keeping hold of her hand Sean pulled her back as the next record began and she smiled and put her arms round him again.

  “Can I take you home tonight?” he blurted out, and was immediately embarrassed when he saw that he had made her laugh.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  The evening wore on and the three of them talked, and danced, and drank. And the more they drank, the braver they all became. The boys were being outrageous, and openly suggestive.

  Jenneen went to the ladies’ to retouch her make-up and found that it was far less smeared than she had thought it would be. As she was returning she saw that they were arguing about something, and thought she heard one of them mention something about money. She noticed that her glass had been refilled, and guessed that they must be coming to the bottoms of their pockets. She sat down and picked up her glass.

  “Thank you for the drink,” she said, taking a sip.

  Sean looked uncomfortable, and began to fiddle with his collar. Jenneen watched him, but when he didn’t say anything she turned back to watching the dance floor.

  He studied her profile a moment, and then took a large gulp of his drink. “We were wondering, are you on the game?”

  “Fuck me, Sean! That’s a bit strong, isn’t it?” Neil choked, but looked at Jenneen all the same, waiting to hear her answer.

  She laughed. It was an understandable observation. Funny how Mrs Green could laugh at something like that. Jenneen Grey would be outraged.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” said Sean. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Neil was watching her, looking her up and down, and he noticed that she had undone another button at the top of her dress. She saw him looking and leaned forward to pick up her drink. He swallowed. Jesus Christ, she was driving him crazy. As she sat back he slipped his arm across her shoulder, and pulled her face round to kiss her. She let him, but didn’t move her hands. Finally she pushed him away, and turned to look at Sean, who was studying the dance floor with self-conscious interest. She laughed, and taking Sean’s hand placed it over her breast. She waited for him to do something. Embarrassed, he began to scratch his head, but when she let his hand go he didn’t pull away. He could feel the nipple straining against the silk and reached up to put his arms round her neck. He opened his mouth wide, too wide, and she pushed her tongue against his, beginning a long and sensual kiss.

  Neil had moved round, shielding them from the dance floor, and she felt his hand move along her thigh. Momentarily she tensed, but then she let her legs slip slightly apart. He went no further than the top of her stocking, so she wriggled in her seat towards his fingers. She heard him catch his breath as his fingers touched her, and found her naked. She groaned into Sean’s open mouth as Neil moved his fingers, and caught hold of her hand and pressed it to his groin.

  She broke away, and looked from one to the other.

  “So?” said Neil, grinning all over his face. “Which one of us is to be the lucky one?”

  She smiled, and picked up her drink, sipping it slowly. She waited until she had finished, then put the empty glass back onto the table again.

  “Well?” asked Sean, his voice thick.

  She laughed, and tossed the hair away from her face. “How about both of you?”

  They looked at each other first with amazement, and then excitement. Sean nodded first, then Neil broke into a grin. “Why not?” he shrugged. “I’m game.”

  “Then I’ll get my coat,” she said, and stood up.

  SEVEN

  Bob eased himself quietly from the bed, not wanting to disturb Ellamarie who was still sleeping, and padded across the room. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes to three, still plenty of time before he had to be at the station.

  Outside he could hear the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers coming from the King’s Road. He slipped into his robe and went out to the kitchen to make some coffee.

  There had been no rehearsals this afternoon. They would rehearse again on Monday, the day before Christmas Eve, when they would break until 29 December. It was going well, though he could wish that Maureen Woodley was responding a little better. Maybe he should give her some extra time, alone. But how could he find the time himself? His production of Don Giovanni was going back to the Colisseum in February, and the Old Vic was practically pleading with him to do Long Day’s Journey Into Night. And to add to it all, a film offer had come his way which he badly wanted to do. It had been almost two years since he had directed a film; he had won a BAFTA for Remember Sundays?

  As he set two cups on the work surface he noticed a wallet of photographs which Ellamarie must have left on the table. Waiting for the kettle to boil he picked them up and started to flick through them. His face was smiling as he looked at them. They had taken them just over two years ago now, when they had gone to Scotland for a long weekend together. A honeymoon was what they had called it, and a honeymoon was indeed what it had been. He would never forget how they had made love for the first time, on the side of a mountain in the early evening sun. He could still see her now, her pale skin against the backdrop of green grass and wild flowers, reaching out her arms to him and whispering for him to make love to her. He swallowed the lump that had formed at the back of his throat as he remembered wondering at the time if it was possible to go on loving someone so much; it was, in fact he loved her even more now. And here was a picture of Mr and Mrs Duff who ran the small hotel they had stayed in. How Ellamarie had made them laugh. He felt sad as he went through the photographs, knowing that it was her uncertainty about their relationship that had made her steal back into the past. Then he laughed as he came across the miserably out of focus ones that she had taken of him on horseback, riding through a glen, and . . .

  Oh Christ! How could he have forgotten? He had to get to Scheiders this afternoon to pick up Linda’s new riding boots. And where was the list she had given him for things she wanted him to pick up from Harrods? He must have left it at the theatre. Hell, that meant he’d have to go back there. And he’d left her present there too. Damn it! He looked at his watch again. He’d never have time to do it all, it would just have to wait until tomorrow. His mother would have to stay the night in the mews house with him here in London. He wouldn’t tell Ellamarie that, of course. He sighed. Life would be so much easier if he could just stay here in London, with Ellamarie. He was going to miss her over Christmas, but there was no use thinking about it, he had to go home and that was that.

  The kettle switched itself off, and he spooned the instant coffee into two mugs.

  “Out of milk, I’m afraid.” He jumped, and looked up to see Ellamarie watching him from the doorway.

  “Then we’ll have black,” he said, but he didn’t tum back to the coffee, instead he continued to look at her. Her face was still flushed from sleep, her mane of hair in chaos about her shoulders. She hadn’t bothered to cover herself, and standing there in her pale nudity, he was entranced by her lack of self-consciousness.

  She gave him a knowing smile and walked across to him, winding her arms about his neck. He ran his hands over her skin as he kissed her on the mouth, reacting to the sensation of her nudity against his robed body. She turned in his arms to present herself to him, and he could feel the desire rising in him once again. She murmured softly as he cupped her breasts in his hands and stooped to kiss
them. As his mouth became more urgent, she gripped his shoulders, digging her fingers into his skin. Reluctantly, he moved away. Tomorrow he was returning to his wife, and he was afraid that in the throes of passion Ellamarie might mark him.

  He kissed her lightly on the end of her nose. “You’re insatiable,” he whispered.

  “I know,” she grinned, and slipped her hand inside his robe. Feeling her take him between her fingers and move gently back and forth, he leaned back, unable now to stem the rising tide. She was smiling, looking into his face and watching the changing expressions. He reached out for her, but she pushed his hands away, and opened his robe. He did nothing to stop her and allowed his robe to fail to the floor. She kissed his neck, his shoulders, and wound her fingers through the thatch of hair on his chest. His breathing became heavier as she stooped to follow her hands with her mouth.

  Then she dropped to her knees, kissing his belly, breathing against him. He looked down at her, meeting her eyes, and as she ran her tongue round her lips, he gripped the edge of the work surface, groaning aloud and closing his eyes, waiting for the warmth of her mouth to take him. Gently she began to kiss him, lingering kisses, with her mouth open, around the top of his thighs, across his belly, and around his testicles, taking them one at a time into her mouth, caressing them with her tongue until he thought he was going to explode.

  Then with the tip of her tongue she began to trace the outline of his penis, kissing and biting gently along the stem. She lifted it away from his belly, and with her fingers lightly teasing, she held him in her hand, breathing softly onto him, letting him feel the moisture of her breath.

  “Oh God, Ellamarie,” he groaned, pulling her towards him. “Please, please, now.”

  As she lifted him towards her mouth, he knew he was only moments away from climaxing. He sobbed as almost violently she covered him, and sucked him, and squeezed him with her tongue. Her hands held him, her mouth held him, and he burst into her, pulling at her hair, pushing her face hard into his groin, gasping as she drew every last drop of juice from his body.

  He tried to catch his breath, and clung on to the surface behind him, not trusting his legs to take his full weight. She got quickly to her feet and circled her arms about his neck. His eyes were closed, but he could feel her looking at him, and pulled her head onto his shoulder.

  They stood like that for a long time. She listening to the beat of his heart as it finally became steadier, he brushing his fingers over her bare shoulders.

  “I love you,” he whispered, when he had finally regained his breath. He tilted her face to look at him. “You’re something else, you know that, don’t you?”

  She smiled. “Coffee?” she said, unravelling herself from his arms.

  He nodded and went to stand behind her as she poured. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he whispered in her ear, pulling her closer.

  “You don’t mean . . .?” She turned to him with a seductive gleam in her eye.

  He laughed. “No, not that. But if you don’t put some clothes on, it could well be,” and slapping her on the bottom, he went off into the lounge.

  When she came in to join him she was wearing the pink satin robe he had bought for her birthday. He was relieved. Although his mother’s train was not due in until six o’clock, time was running out. He looked at his watch, and immediately wished he hadn’t. It was stupid of him, and something he tried never to do when he was with Ellamarie. She said nothing, but he didn’t miss the look that flitted across her face. She handed him his coffee, and curled up at the other end of the settee where she could look at him but still reach out and touch him.

  “You said you had a surprise for me. Am I going to like it?”

  “I think so,” he said, smiling and casting a sideways look at her. “I hope so.”

  “Then tell me what it is.”

  “See if you can guess.”

  “Hell, I don’t know where to start. Give me a clue.”

  “Well, let me see. I know. Out of all the things in the world, what would you most like to happen?”

  She stared at him. Was he . . .?

  He knew he had made a terrible mistake. He thought quickly, desperate to stop her from saying what was in her mind. “Yes, a film!” he declared. “I have been asked to direct The Famous Tragedy of the Queen of Cornwall. And I thought you might like to take the part of the Queen.”

  She turned quickly to hide her disappointment, and picked up her coffee.

  “Well, aren’t you pleased?” he asked, the levity of his voice sounding forced, even to him.

  “Sure,” she said. “Sure I’m pleased.”

  He turned away, furious at himself for the way in which he had broken the news to her. She saw his hand shake as he lifted his cup, and her heart went out to him. She knew that he was sorry, that he was mad at himself for leading her on, and he had only been trying to make her happy.

  She lit up her face with a bright smile, and he only just managed to get his cup back onto the table before she threw herself across the settee and into his arms. She kissed him briefly on the mouth. “Did I ever tell you how crazy I am about you? Jeez, I can’t believe it. A movie! Me, in a movie! The Famous Tragedy,” and she started spinning round the room. “When did it happen?” she asked, stopping a moment to look at him. “Why didn’t you mention it before? When do we start shooting?”

  He was laughing. “Oh, not for quite some time yet. You know what these things are like.”

  “But Bob,” she cried, squeezing her hands together, “it’s just wonderful. Can you believe it? Me, a movie star. Hell, it’s what I’ve always wanted. Shakespeare and movies. Now I’ll have done both. Does it mean we will be going to France and Cornwall? Will you go on a field trip first? Can I come too?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh God, I can’t believe it,” she shrieked. “For how long? It means I’ll have you all to myself.”

  “Funny, I was thinking I was going to have you all to myself.”

  “I can’t wait! Is there a script I can read yet?”

  “There will be, right after Christmas I hope.”

  “How is it?”

  “It’s going to be good. Very good, in fact. There are a couple of things that I want to discuss with the writer, though. But I think it should be ready for you to see at the beginning of the New Year.”

  “Oh Bob!” she said. “Just wait till I tell Jenneen, she’ll be so thrilled for me. And Ashley. And Kate.”

  “And me.” He pulled her back into his arms.

  “And you,” she sighed. “Oh, I love you so much, do you know that? I love you so much I could die.”

  She curled up in his arms, and he stroked her hair. Inwardly he gave a sigh of relief that the awkward moment had passed.

  She was happy. It was what she wanted, to be with him, always working with him. And although her hopes had soared for a moment earlier, she knew in her heart that one day it would happen, and they would be together.

  “What time do you have to leave?” she said, turning his watch round.

  “In about half an hour. I have to go back to the theatre first, to pick up some things.”

  “Oh?” She looked surprised. “I thought you’d brought everything with you?”

  “No. I’ve just remembered, I’ve left some things there that I need to pick up.”

  “The script,” she said, grinning up at him.

  He laughed. “No,” and almost immediately wished he had said yes.

  “Then what?” She didn’t know why she was pushing it. It wasn’t important that he had to go back to the theatre. But there was something in his manner, something that told her he didn’t want her to know what he was going back for.

  “Nothing important.” He shifted position.

  “If it’s nothing important, then why are you going back for it?” she said, hating herself, and wishing she could stop interrogating him.

  “Because I have to.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He
sighed. “All right,” he said, “it’s a Christmas present.”

  She sat up. Her heart was beginning to pound. “It’s for her isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he said, and tried to take her hand.

  She pulled away. Why couldn’t he have lied to her? Jesus, hadn’t she tried everything she could these last weeks to stop from thinking too much about Christmas? About him spending it with his wife. About her being alone. Her folks unable to fly out, or not wanting to fly out, and her unable to go back home.

  “Ellamarie,” he said, his voice was soft and pleading.

  She didn’t answer.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, it’s me. I’m being silly. Of course you’ve bought a gift for your wife. It wouldn’t be right if you hadn’t. I’m just being silly.”

  “I would rather be here, with you,” he said, knowing it to be only half true.

  “Would you?”

  He nodded.

  She was silent for a while, and Bob remained still, waiting for her to speak. When she did, she said what he had been dreading she would say.

  “Earlier,” she said, not looking at him, “earlier, when you said, you know, that you had a surprise for me?”

  He tensed, and ran his fingers across his eyes.

  “Do you know what I thought you were going to say?”

  “Yes.”

  She turned to look at him. “I thought you were going to say that you were leaving your wife.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Of all the things in the whole world, that is what would make me the happiest,” she said. “That we could be together, always.”

  He took her hands in his, and looked into her face. “We will be. Soon, we will be.”

  “But when? Oh Bob, I know I shouldn’t ask, but don’t you know what it’s like for me? Thinking of you with her. Talking to her, eating with her, sleeping with her.”

  “Just be patient, darling. We will be together, I promise.”

  “When will you tell her?”