Next, she lay down on the bed, on her back, with her knees drawn up and spread wide apart.
‘Take me now,’ she said.
So I did.
‘My God,’ she said afterwards. ‘You clearly needed that even more than I did.’
We were still lying naked on the bed. I was cuddling her with my right arm, and her head rested on my chest.
‘I’m sorry it was over so quickly,’ I said. ‘Not enough foreplay.’
‘Don’t be sorry. And to hell with foreplay. I was gagging for it too. It was wonderful.’
I stroked her hair.
‘Do you do this sort of thing often?’ I asked.
‘First time in years,’ she said, but I wasn’t totally sure I believed her. ‘In fact, I’ve only done it a few times since I got divorced.’
‘When was that?’
‘Seven years ago. I discovered that my husband preferred sleeping with other men — or mostly boys — rather than with me.’
‘What a silly man,’ I said.
‘That’s exactly what I told him as he was handcuffed in our den by the cops.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘No, I’m not. He was eventually convicted of having sex with a minor — one boy was only fifteen — and he did jail time in the state penitentiary. But he’s out now.’
‘Do you have any children?’ I asked.
‘No, thank goodness. So the divorce was easy, especially since he was incarcerated at the time. He couldn’t really object.’
‘But you still have his name, Mrs Beckett.’
‘No I don’t,’ she said indignantly. ‘Beckett was always my name, not his. It’s just that la-di-da Ascot requires you to put your marriage status down on the ticket application form. I put down “divorced,” but they still wrote “Mrs” on my Royal Enclosure badge.’
‘You should be thankful they let you in at all. For the first hundred and thirty years of its existence, no one who was divorced was allowed to enter the Royal Enclosure. It was not thought proper that the sovereign should have to gaze upon a divorced person.’
‘Now you’re the one who’s kidding.’
‘I’m not. It was only after the Queen Elizabeth’s younger sister, Princess Margaret, got divorced in 1978 that divorcees were truly accepted by everyone. Nowadays, I reckon that at least half the people in there have been divorced at some time or another, including the King himself.’
She ran her fingers across my tummy, causing more shivers down my legs.
‘Do you ever see your ex?’ I asked. ‘Now he’s been released?’
‘No, thank God. He moved out west. California, I think. He had no choice really, not if he wanted to find a job. His trial was big news at home because the young boy he had sex with was the son of a state congressman. The boy’s name was leaked to the press by a political opponent of his father, and then it was all over the local TV stations. Everyone in Kentucky knew about it.’
I stroked her hair again.
‘You live such an interesting life,’ I said.
‘Not as interesting as yours,’ she replied.
‘But you said I was boring.’
She turned her head to look at me. ‘No. You said you were boring. And I’ve never met a queen. Or a king. Not even anyone royal. That definitely makes you more interesting than me.’
I laughed. ‘Is this a competition?’
My phone started ringing, instantly cutting short my laugh.
The phone was still in my trousers pocket, where it had been when they had dropped to the floor, along with my boxers.
‘Ignore it,’ I said, not moving. ‘I don’t want to speak to anyone.’
And certainly not to Squeaky Voice.
The ringing stopped. But then it immediately started again.
‘Might that be your wife?’ Toni asked. ‘Checking up on you?’
‘I don’t care if it’s the prime minister. I’m still not answering it.’
‘So your prime minister also has your number.’ She laughed. ‘I think that means I win.’
The ringing finally stopped, and we lay there for a considerable time longer, our legs entwined, enjoying being so close to each other. Eventually, she lifted my right hand off one of her firm and pointed breasts, climbed off the bed, and stood up.
‘I need to go pee.’
She skipped into the bathroom but left the door wide open, and I found even the sound of her urinating was sexy and arousing.
She shortly emerged again, wearing, rather disappointingly for me, a white hotel towelling bathrobe.
‘What do you want to do for dinner?’ she asked, pouring two more glasses of champagne from the bottle.
‘What would you like?’ I asked her back.
‘The hotel restaurant is very good. I ate there on Monday evening.’
‘But I’ve only got my morning dress,’ I said. ‘Unless I go down in a bathrobe.’
‘Room service, then?’
‘Perfect.’
She gave me one of the champagne glasses and came back to bed with the room service menu, slipping off her robe and dropping it on the floor.
She snuggled her naked body up next to mine, and I couldn’t ever remember feeling so relaxed and content as I was at that precise moment.
Such a shame it didn’t last.
The two missed calls on my phone were not from Squeaky Voice. They were from James. There was also a WhatsApp text message from him.
Dad, I need to speak to you urgently. Call me back.
I had got up to go to the bathroom and had picked up my trousers so they weren’t too creased for the following day. The phone slipped out of the pocket.
All sorts of dreadful scenarios flashed through my head.
Was James calling me because something had happened to Amanda, and she had contacted him?
‘I’d better call my son,’ I said to Toni. ‘He never rings me unless it’s important. I’ll do it in the bathroom.’
I did close the bathroom door.
‘What is it?’ I asked when James answered.
‘I need my passport.’
‘I thought you weren’t going away until August. So what’s the urgency?’
‘Now that I know I passed my exams, me and Gary have found a great flat for next year, but the letting agency won’t confirm us as the tenants until we can prove our identities. Something to do with bloody money-laundering regulations. I’m really worried they will go with someone else, and we’ll miss it. So send me my passport.’
‘Where is it?’
‘In the top drawer of my desk. Go and get it now.’
‘But I’m not at home,’ I said. ‘I’m in London at a dinner. I’ve just stepped out to call you. I’m booked into a hotel for the night.’
‘I suppose I’ll have to call Mum, then.’ His tone implied that calling his mother was likely to cause him more trouble than it was worth.
‘Mum’s not at home either. She’s staying with Granny and Grandpa in Harrogate. Grandpa isn’t very well.’
‘When are you back at home?’
‘Not until tomorrow evening after racing at Ascot.’
‘Bloody hell. Then it won’t get in the post until Friday at the earliest, and Saturday deliveries are totally hopeless in Bristol.’
‘Look. As soon as I get home tomorrow, I’ll scan your passport and email it to you or to the agency. Ask them if that would be enough.’
‘Can’t you drive it down to me here tomorrow night?’
I thought of the possibility of spending a second night with Toni.
‘Ask the agency if a scanned copy of it will suffice for the moment, until we can get the real thing to them. Ask them tomorrow morning, and then let me know.’
‘Okay. I’ll ask them.’ He paused. ‘Did you say that Grandpa isn’t well?’
‘I’m afraid I did,’ I said.
‘But he will get better, right?’