Junction X by Erastes (digital ebook reader .TXT) 📗

At first his arms stayed clamped to his sides, but after a while he came to me, arms awkward around my back, fingers finally settling in my hair. I was gentle but insistent, teasing with my teeth, using my tongue on his lips the way I’d dreamed of doing for so long. I gave in to his demands when he grabbed my hand and shoved it into his lap, and as I stroked him to completion, my spine melted with every gentle gasp and groan he gave me.

I forgot the clubhouse, forgot what he’d done for me there. That night, as he clung to me, kissing me back as hard as I kissed him—that was better than any club membership.

But it was an enchanted night. I think the moon went a little blue for us both. It was never to happen like that again between us, and that communion that I thought we’d finally tasted, that we’d talked of on the beach? It was never there, really, or if it was, it lasted no longer that the release itself.

When he zipped himself back up, he was just my friend, and I think, even with the tide of pleasure ebbing away from me, I knew that this wasn’t what I wanted, but that didn’t help. I didn’t know what I wanted, only that it was something more than this.

Chapter 5

I suppose I should have been prepared for the fallout. I’d made a unilateral decision about our finances, and, while that wasn’t terribly unusual, it was a major decision—one that I would normally run past Valerie. I knew that she would kick up a fuss.

Maybe I thought it would be easier to deal with the repercussions than it would be to discuss it in the first place. After all, it wasn’t as though she could dissuade me once I’d actually joined.

It was Tuesday night before she found out. The weather changed abruptly on Tuesday afternoon, a storm sweeping across London like a dark veil, causing power cuts that disrupted our work. I was glad to finally escape out into the blustery rush hour, but was soon soaked, unable even to use my umbrella for fear of it turning inside out. The train slid into the Junction late and I had to fight the wind for control of the train door. By the time I got to The Avenue, the rain was coming down in sheets, and I was discovering that my greatcoat wasn’t quite as great as Moss Bros. had said it was. I dumped the umbrella in the stand and left my coat on the porch to let it drip.

The children came shrieking out of the sitting room into the hall to greet me, full of tales of stick insects that were the new school pets, and the warmth of the house and the warmth of my reception had me smiling as I carried Mary into the sitting room.

“They eat privet leaves, Daddy,” she chattered happily. “And we’ve got loads of that.”

“But they don’t eat a lot of it,” John chipped in seriously, ever the realist. “It’s not like they are going to make a hole in the hedge so people can see into the back garden.”

Valerie came through from the kitchen, her face a perfect mask. “And we all know how Daddy likes his secrets, don’t we?”

I felt myself pale, and for the first time I understood the phrase: ‘I went cold.’ A creeping chill crept over me, like a glass of iced water poured over my head.

I swallowed and managed a laugh, and ignored John’s repeated cries of “What secrets, Daddy? What secrets, Daddy?”

“Have you eaten?” I said, meaning the children, but including everyone.

“Of course. And I’m at the club tonight.”

“Oh?”

“I did tell you,” Valerie said, heading for the stairs. “It’s the presentation for the Junior Tournament and you know how that bores you. I didn’t even get you a ticket. Can’t you go to Phil’s?” By the time she’d finished the sentence, she was half way up the stairs.

I put Mary down with a swift kiss, and ran up after Valerie, following her into the dressing room, ignoring the calls of “Well, can we have a stick insect or not?” from both of the children.

I sat backwards on a cane chair and leant my head on the back of it. “What was that about, downstairs?” My stomach was in knots, but I kept repeating to myself, it’s all right, it’s all right. If she’d discovered anything about Phil, she’d not be so calm. Valerie may look like a swan, all calm frigid beauty, but her temper can be as sudden and as violent as the worst winter gales.

It was her smile that made me feel safe, finally. It was teasing, and although I could tell she was annoyed, it was almost as if she were playing a part, a wife showing resigned tenderness at her husband’s insensitivity. She glanced at me in the mirror, a sharp glittering barb of a look. “I don’t know what you’d say if I went and spent that amount of money without discussing it with you first.”

“Oh,” I said. “The Sands.”

She finished putting mascara on and looked at me hard then, still without turning round. “Yes, of course The Sands, darling.” The endearment was automatic, or it sounded it. “What else did you think I meant?” When I just shrugged and looked away, she laughed. “What else are you keeping from me?”

I wish I could say that I blushed, but I was too well-practised, and so kept an even gaze, meeting hers. “Nothing, of course. Oh, apart from all the bodies.”

“I just wished you’d mentioned it, that’s all. It’s not like you to go and spend that amount of money.”

“How—”

“Claire.” She brushed her hair, doing something that teased the back of it up on the back of her head. “Of course, I pretended I knew all about it, but I’m fairly sure she knew I was lying. I didn’t know