I stood behind her in the queue and let my hand slide around her narrow waist onto her taut stomach. As she pulled in closer, the scent of her hair wafted up through the fine weaving of her sunhat. It smelt soft and fresh, like a summer’s day in the countryside, and I drew her in even closer, as if scared that, if I let her go, she might disappear.
It was no more than a few minutes before a bus arrived, its red hulk pulling up beside us and blocking out the other side of the street.
‘Oh,’ she said, sounding disappointed. She turned to me and raised her eyebrows. ‘So where’s the gold-plating?’
I glanced up at it, then back at her. ‘It is,’ I said, with a grin. ‘Lamentably conspicuous only by its absence.’
‘I’m getting the feeling there’s no Jacuzzi, either.’ She frowned, a smile playing about her lips.
‘Regrettably, I fear not.’
I looked up at the bus again, higher this time, and what I saw took my breath away. ‘Oh dear, Miss Anderton,’ I murmured into her ear. ‘Someone’s been a very naughty girl.’
She followed my gaze upwards and let out a small, half-strangled gasp.
‘Come on,’ I said, dropping my hand and administering a discreet smack to her rear as the queue began to shuffle forward. ‘We’ll…discuss this later.’
She jumped slightly and giggled, looking around her to see if anyone had noticed, before suiting her actions to my words.
The bus was packed. The heat of the summer’s afternoon, coupled with the proximity of so many strangers, got to me almost immediately. There were no seats available, and it was as much as I could do to stand, trying to avoid contact with the passengers pressed far too close to me for my liking. She glanced up at me, several times, before speaking.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I…’ I hesitated, not used to being put on the spot like this. ‘I’m just…hot. That’s all.’
‘Okay.’ She was looking at me through narrowed eyes, and I could tell she wasn’t buying my words. ‘Do you want to get off here? We could get a cab.’
I shook my head. ‘No. Let’s see this thing out. After all, it’s your own personal bus.’
She flushed a little. ‘Okay,’ she said, not quite able to hide the guilty smirk as she turned to look out the window.
‘You haven’t heard the last of this, you know,’ I added, in an undertone.
She didn’t reply, but I could tell she was still smiling even though her face was turned away.
It was a long and faltering journey through the rush hour traffic. I’d had no idea there were so many bus stops in London. It felt as if, for every hundred yards forward, we took fifty back. To make matters worse, I kept seeing Rick, in my mind’s eye, tumbling through the air, plummeting Earthwards like a discarded doll. By the time we got off, the sweat was standing out on my brow and my breath was coming hard and fast in the back of my throat.
‘Hyde Park,’ she said, evidently proud of her superior skills at navigating the London transport system. ‘You can breathe again.’
It was my turn to flush. Had my suffering been so obvious? I wasn’t used to appearing ill at ease and, for a moment, I felt like scowling. But she looked so pleased with herself, I couldn’t help laughing.
‘Very impressive,’ I conceded. ‘But, from now on, I’m in charge. Okay?’
She gazed up at me, her eyes huge and as blue as the sky above. She didn’t reply – only nodded; a tiny tip of the head that spoke more than words ever could. I felt myself growing hard, immediately, at that small, submissive gesture, and I put my free arm around her and led her towards the park.
It was busy, as usual, dotted all over with picnickers and tourists, as well as the ubiquitous joggers, beating the bounds like the pagans of old. I steered her towards a quieter area, farther from the network of paths and walkways that criss-crossed it in some sort of godly geometry, and into the shade of a small copse of trees.
‘Here,’ I said, finally, plumping down the hamper and opening it. ‘One blanket for Madam’s pretty little bottom.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, sinking down, before patting the rug next to her. ‘Sit next to me.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Are you telling me what to do? Aren’t you in enough trouble already?’
She looked up at me, clearly trying hard not to laugh. ‘Um…yeah. About that…’
‘Not now,’ I interjected, kneeling down to sort through the hamper. ‘We’ll discuss that later. For now…champagne.’
She didn’t argue, merely watched as I popped the cork and fished out two glasses, tipping them sideways to prevent the bubbles escaping.
‘Canapés for madam?’ I continued, passing her a glass. ‘I’ve brought all sorts. I wasn’t sure what you liked.’
‘It all looks lovely,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s the least I can do,’ I said, pulling out the plates, together with an assortment of delicacies I’d grabbed earlier that afternoon from Fortnum and Mason. ‘I should’ve been in touch before now. I owed you that, at least.’
For the first time, I saw the radiance of her gaze dim. She turned away from me, clearly uncomfortable. ‘You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, just to apologise,’ she said, her words almost inaudible against the chatter of a group of tourists walking close by.
I let my glass fall from my hand and sat down next to her. ‘No,’ I said, appalled by her sudden change of mood. ‘That’s not what I meant.’
She turned to face me again, her expression still wounded, and I marvelled that my words could have such an effect on her.
‘So, what then?’ She brought her gaze up to meet mine. ‘What did you mean?’
‘I meant,’ I hesitated again, not sure how to put into words the anguish of the last few days. ‘I wanted to see you. I did…so much…but things aren’t so straightforward anymore.’
She nodded. ‘I know. I get that but I don’t understand. Why couldn’t you have talked to me? Explained what was going on?’
I gave a harsh laugh. ‘I couldn’t at first. I was in custody and then…’
‘And then?’
‘You wanted to get back with your ex, if I remember rightly.’
She looked mortified, and turned away. ‘That was…a reaction.’
‘A pretty extreme one, if you don’t mind my saying. The last time you saw him, before that, he assaulted you.’ I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice – I hadn’t realised, until now, quite how much that newspaper article had stung.
‘And you’d been charged with murder,’ she countered. ‘Next to you, Leo suddenly seemed quite sane.’
I nodded, unable to argue with the logic of her statement. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It can’t have been easy on you.’
She didn’t speak for a moment. When she did, it was to throw me a challenge. ‘So, you’re out now. You can talk to me. Why don’t you tell me why they thought you’d murdered those girls? I mean…you didn’t, did you?’
Twenty Three
Her
It was his turn to look away, and my heart sank. Had I pushed him too far? Was he going to shut down on me again – decide this had all been a huge mistake? I didn’t want to push him, but I had to know what was going on, especially if I was going to get involved with him again.
When it became clear he wasn’t going to reply, I sat back and looked at him, wondering what the hell was going through his mind. All his self-assurance of earlier seemed to have faded and, when he turned back to me, he looked anguished.
‘Look,’ I said, feeling awkward now. ‘If you don’t want to talk…’
‘No.’ he cut through my words. ‘It’s just…I’m not used to confiding in people. At least, not many people…’
I thought of Ronnie, and wondered if he confided in her. Something told me did, and I felt a sharp pang of envy. It was ridiculous, I knew. He’d known Ronnie for years – Christ, he’d even married her – and he’d known me a few weeks, maximum. But it did nothing to assuage my jealousy.
I hoped my feelings didn’t show. If they did, he didn’t notice. He seemed to be struggling for the right words.
‘I have a situation, I deal with it,’ he said, finally. ‘I don’t discuss it unless I have to.’