David and Jen

There were a couple of chairs in front of the bay window, and she weaved between the furniture to reach them. She stood for a moment looking out at the garden and waiting for him to catch up. Once they were both seated, she turned to him and started speaking.

"The parties are a way of gaining influence. Peddling influence and information is what I do. To deliver a discreet service, I need to make people afraid of the consequences of embarrassing me. Did you know I am related to Jimmy Desai?"

David started and looked at her in genuine apprehension. She smiled and put her hand on his arm to reassure him.

"Don't be alarmed, he's about three times removed and is little interested in what I get up to but it's useful to be able to name drop him from time to time. It has a way of easing things in certain quarters. It was very useful in the early days before I had enough leverage on people.

However, I discovered I like to control things, David. Sometimes a little steel is needed to get what I want. Some people like to surrender control and for some, well ... it doesn't matter whether they like it or not."

David shook his head. "I couldn't do what you do."

"No. And you're obviously not at ease when you're compelled. You're not very good at hiding your feelings, David. Never play poker."

He laughed and she raised her eyebrows in question.

"You're not the first to say that."

"I wish you well, David. As I said, I don't know anyone quite like you and that's an unusual sensation for me. It makes me think that my horizons may be too narrow."

She'd wrong-footed him again. He had had an image of a spider, controlling and malevolent. There was an abrupt reframing in his head, and he saw a woman not much older than himself, making sense of the world in a way that worked for her.

He chuckled.

"That is one of your most annoying habits, David."

"What is?"

"Laughing at your own jokes. It makes the rest of us feel left out," she said, severely.

"Oh, ah, well, I find that when I explain them, people often don't find them very funny. That's the problem you see, they're expecting funny when what I'm taking pleasure in is the absurd."

"And you find me absurd, is that it?"

"No, no! My view of you just changed one-eighty degrees; it was myself that was absurd."

"I see. And what is your view of me now?"

"Nicer," he said firmly and pressed her hand.

She looked down at it. When they had first met, admittedly under difficult circumstances, David would have run a mile rather than touch her. One-eighty degrees indeed.

"I'll take 'nicer'."

***

He'd spent the weekend with Em. It had been the first opportunity to spend any length of time with her in over a month. And such a lot had happened in the last few weeks that at times he felt a little overwhelmed.

Men like him didn't get invited to orgies, far less get paid thousands of pounds for the privilege, if privilege it was.

Then there was Jane Cranshaw dropping into his life like a guardian angel and getting him the interview with Derek Cross. The outcome of which had been the offer of a job from which he was newly returned from his first day in post.

"So," she smiled. "I think it went well, judging by your grin."

"Oh, it'll be a doddle! They have some computers that make the ones I'm used to look like dinosaurs. And the work's all modelling. I can't believe I'm going to get paid so much for doing something so enjoyable. My colleagues seem like a nice bunch, but they're all high-flying graduates so they're amazed that I know anything about anything."

She waited for him to run down and then patted his knee.

"Go and shower. I've laid out some clothes on the bed."

"Bed!" he said. "I like the sound of that!"

"Behave! Now go and do as you're told."

He shrugged and rose to head off, whistling as he trotted up the stairs.

She watched him go, deriving real pleasure from his fortune but knowing that this was likely to be the last time they could be together.

***

The taxi took them to the Pike and Eel. David laughed as the Mercedes turned into the side road and Em looked at him.

"I had an encounter with Phyllis Tindall here a couple of months ago."

"Here? Phyllis didn't pay for a room, did she? That would be most unlike her."

David chuckled. "No, nothing like that. She was most miffed that I declined to accept an engagement and then she found me having lunch in the garden of the pub. Cracking meat pie," he said, smacking his lips.

"Well, I hope you've got an appetite because I've got us a table for dinner."

"Ah, Em! You know how to spoil a chap!" and he kissed her on the cheek.

He leaned back into his seat and Em raised her hand to touch the spot where his lips had rested. Her expression was wistful for a moment.

***

After dinner they sat on one of the seats at the riverside, shading their eyes with their hands from the low evening sun. Em had introduced David to dessert wine and there was a half-bottle of botrytised Riesling sitting in a bucket of ice on the ground beside them.

David held his glass up to the sun and peered through the condensation on the side of the glass to the rich yellow liquid within.

Mellow with food and wine and basking in the sultry heat of the end of the day, he said, "Y'know, Em, I can't recall the last time when I felt this good."

"I'm sure we can think of something to put the icing on the cake," she said demurely.

"Oh indeed," he sighed happily and there was comfortable silence for a while.

Em broke their reverie first. "When was the last time you talked to Jen, David?"

"Oh, I spoke to her a few weeks back just before I went for the job in London. The conversations are getting more difficult. So much has happened and I can't tell her about any of it, because if I start, where do I stop?"

Em thought about this for a moment.

"How do you feel about her, David? How do you feel about her really?"

"I don't know. I'm such a different person now from last Christmas that it's hard to work out how we would be a couple again. And then there's you."

He turned to look at her and put his hand on hers.

Em looked down at his hand. The mark of his wedding ring was starting to fade. She was not superstitious but, somehow, she knew that when it was gone then his wife and two children would be navigating the world alone. They were young and they needed this gentle, quixotic man more than she did.

She chose her next words carefully.

"You haven't been to see them, have you? That's six months, a long time in a child's life."

He frowned. "It's only been in the last couple of calls that she's brought the temperature up above freezing. I dread her parents or her sister picking up the phone. They're Italian and I feel like they're on the verge of calling in some favours."

Em laughed. "Don't be so melodramatic, David. Italians are very big on family and you're the father of their grandchildren. Make the right approach and you'll be welcomed back into the fold."

"Do you think I should go up and see them then?"

Inwardly, she sighed with relief.

"Yes, David, that would be the responsible thing to do. You need to keep the channels open. The children are a feature of your life forever. Unless Jen meets someone else, of course."

David sat straighter and withdrew his hand, staring out over the river and fields beyond.

It was as she thought. That possibility had never occurred to him. She smiled; he was still very much a man.

***

His fortnightly visit rolled around, and he was back at the house with the yellow door.

"Hi, Em!" he said cheerily as he came into the house and then, catching sight of her sombre expression. "What's wrong?"

"We're going to have a difficult conversation, David."

Without waiting for him to respond she turned and made her way to the living room. She could feel his alarm as he hastened after her and laid his hand on her arm.

"What is it, Em? What's wrong?"

She turned to face him and said, "You need to go and patch things up with Jen, David."

"What!" he said, in vast surprise.

"I mean it, David."

She took his hand and led him to sit on the sofa next to her. Covering his hands with hers, she looked earnestly into his eyes. From his expression she could tell he had a good idea of what was coming next.

"What of Josh and Tilly, David?"

He squirmed. "Jen will take good care of them."

"Not good enough, David."

Her gaze was unflinching.

"This is life's great cruelty, my darling. Sometimes you must do what's right, no matter how much it hurts. Your duty is to your children and to your wife. You made a solemn vow, and you owe it to Jen to honour that vow. I know how we feel about each other but this supersedes everything."

"But Em," he croaked. "What about us?"

She set her face against him.

"Your family need you, David. I saw your reaction when I suggested that Jen might find someone new. You're not very good at planning, David. In truth you've been avoiding the consequences of your actions for months."

"I don't call being beaten up 'avoiding the consequences'!" he retorted.

"That was unfortunate but more to do with the 'who' than the 'what'. Now, your initial purpose was to support your family. What you've been doing is using the distance between you as a screen. Your wife probably would not approve of what you've been doing but she couldn't fault your motives. Now you need to work out what's best, not just for you but for your dependents."

David acknowledged what Em was saying with an unhappy frown. Finally asking, "What will I do?"

"Why David," she said, purposely callous, "I survived the death of my husband. You'll manage somehow."

His expression crumbled and she wilted at the desolation on his face. He looked away for a long moment and then rose and strode swiftly to the door.

From the study window, she watched David walk away. He stopped once, just outside the gate with his head bowed and his arms rigid at his sides. He stood for a few seconds, then his shoulders gave a great heave and her resolve nearly broke.

She would run after him to beg for forgiveness and to plead with him to stay with her. And he would, she knew. So, she stayed at the window, concealing herself with the curtain lest he look back, until he walked away out of sight.

Then she sat in the chair at the writing desk, laid her head on her arms and wept.

***

September

"I don't need the money anymore Ros, and I'm going to see if I can patch things up with my wife."

He couldn't meet her eyes. It was silly, he wasn't ditching her, she was a client not his girlfriend: but, as Rosemary Ogilvie had observed, he wasn't cut out for the life of a gigolo. He needed to like his partners, even Phyllis Tindall had had her good points. And he had grown to like Em rather too much.

"That's okay, David. I've met someone nice. That always happens when you're not looking, and this was fun while it lasted. What have you told Marjorie Barrett?"

He started, then cursed himself for forgetting that Marjorie had introduced them.

"She knows, it was her idea," he said bleakly.

"You care a lot for that woman, don't you?"

David grimaced. "Is it obvious?"

"If you were my boyfriend, I might be a bit miffed at how often she comes up in conversation."

Ros smiled and David wondered anew at how well they got on. They bonded over a love of rich sensuous experiences, yet they could not be less alike.

She was the very model of sophisticated high-flying executive. Immaculate dress sense, razor sharp mind, well educated. He still knew next to nothing about her. She ably deflected conversation about herself while still being charming. And she was wonderfully physical.

He grew wistful.

"Never mind, David, we'll always have the Chinook."

He laughed and touched his forehead with his fingers in a sort of casual salute.

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't suppose you fancy one for the road?"

David cocked his head to one side.

"As long as it doesn't involve too much in the way of risk to life and limb."

Ros patted the kitchen table. "I believe we started things off quite well here."

"What do you have in mind?"

Her eyes gleamed and she went to the enormous American style fridge. Heaven knew why she needed it as she lived on her own and ate out most of the time. There was some rummaging in the freezer cabinet, she came back to the table with a bottle of chocolate syrup and a tub of ice cream.

David surveyed the two items with a quizzical expression.

"And what are we going to do with those?"

Ros came to stand very close to him and in a passable imitation of Marilyn Monroe, husked in his ear.

"Well, I've heard that you can rub the cold things over sensitive parts and then clean them up when they've melted. Chocolate and ice cream go well together, and I thought we could see if they go well with other things."

David's arms had come over with goosebumps. Not that anything she had said was likely to be struck down by the censors, but the way she had said it had his nerve ends tingling.

"You might want to take your kit off, David, this might get messy," she whispered.

By the time he had laid his clothes in a pile on top of his shoes, Ros was lying naked on the table and drizzling a thin line of chocolate syrup from one nipple to the other and then down past her navel to her sex.

David watched wide eyed as she took a spoon and planted two small scoops of ice cream on top of her breasts, covering her areolae, and then a third on her navel. The chocolate oozed from beneath them and ran down her sides.

She reached down between her legs and brought up a chocolate covered finger to her mouth. It stopped before it reached her lips, she looked David in the eye and extended it to him.

He took her finger in his mouth and combined with the chocolate there was her unmistakable scent. After licking it clean, he turned his attention to the dribbles of melted ice cream running down her breasts.

Her hand found his erection and started to squeeze it rhythmically.

"Don't I get anything to lick, David?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

Unsure how to respond, his puzzlement must have shown on his face as she raised herself up on an elbow and twisted round so that he was between her legs.

She guided him inside her and then made him withdraw. His cock emerged coated in chocolate and Ros moved to run her tongue from the base to the top and then around the crown.

Watching her blonde waves bounce as she bent to her task, David once again marvelled that he was here. Six months ago, he would have counted himself as experienced and been none the wiser.

The things he had done with Ros alone had opened his eyes to a world of sensation. He wondered whether Jen would ever be open to such things.

"All clean!" Ros chirped and looked up at him.

There were smears of chocolate round her full red lips and on her cheeks. Her hair was tousled, and she looked so wanton that David's cock jerked as a surge of lust tore through him. He knelt on the flags and alternated between licking the chocolate off her face and kissing her; their tongues slipping into each other's mouths.

Abruptly he stood. She looked up at him coyly.

"What are you going to do now, David? Are you going to have your way with me?"

"Oh yes," he said, easing himself inside her.

She crossed her ankles on his shoulder and the extra friction on his cock was exquisite. Ros rubbed her clit as he slowly slid back and forth. He managed to restrain himself until she had reached her own climax, which duly set him off in the process.

***

They showered together to clean up, giggling at the mess and copping a feel at the same time. David discovered that Ros was amenable to another final coupling against the wall of the shower stall, her hands held above her head in an echo of their adventure in the woods, the water cascading from her breasts down to where they were joined.

"It's a good thing size doesn't matter," she gasped, "you'd ruin me for anyone else."

He grinned at her. "What? My sparkling personality counts for nothing?"

Later, watching her tie her hair up with a towel, David felt a rush of affection for Ros. He put out a hand to her shoulder. She looked at it and then up to him and smiled.

"I'm going to miss you, Rosanna Squires. I hope we don't completely lose touch."

"You never know how things will turn out, David. In a year, or two or three, it could all change."

***

"Hi Jen."

"Hi."

That was an improvement in itself. Up to now his greeting had been returned with the flat statement of his name.

"I'll make this quick. Can I come and see you?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Jen?"

"I suppose so."

David could hear doubt colouring her voice.

"Great! I've got a couple of days off next week so how about we meet up in town?"

There was silence again. David pressed on.

"I've looked at trains, I can be there, say one o'clock, Monday. How does that sound?"

"Okay, I guess."

"We could have lunch in the George."

"No, not there." Too many memories.

"Okay, you choose."

There was another lengthy pause as Jen engaged near dormant facilities in her brain. David waited patiently.

"The Century on Ellis Street. It's been done up."

David couldn't remember the place, but he made a note of it.

"Great!" he said again. "I'll see you next week. Bye."

Jen put the receiver down. Her sister and her mother hovered nearby, ready to offer emotional support.

"What did he say?" asked Anna.

"He's coming to see me next week."

Anna and her mother exchanged glances. Jen had a strange expression on her face.

"That's good, isn't it?" asked her mother.

"I don't know."

In truth, the prospect of seeing David in the flesh made her feel off-balance again.

"You'd have to see him again at some point so it might as well be now," said Anna, ever practical.

"I don't know if I'm ready."

Jean Mollica gave her daughter a hug. "Anna's right, love."

Jen frowned. "I can think for myself, thank you very much!"

"Don't be upset, Jennifer. We're just trying to help."

Suddenly Jen felt suffocated by their close attention. Breaking free of her mother's embrace, she trotted upstairs, feeling her mother's worried eyes on her back, and seeing Anna's eye roll in her head.

Sitting on her bed, Jen tried to take stock of herself, and came to the uncomfortable realisation that his visit would be a turning point in her life and the lives of their children. Two futures panned out from next week. Life with him. And life without him.

She'd spent so much time being angry at David, she'd not thought much beyond that, and a cold sensation settled in her stomach. She would have to find somewhere to live, get a job. She would have to make good on her recent assertion to her mother.

***

Anna knocked on the door, let herself in and sat on the bed beside her.

"How are you doing?"

Jen turned to her sister. "I'm scared, Anna. In a few weeks it'll be a year since I left home, since I last saw David. I haven't let myself feel anything other than anger towards him in all that time. I don't know how I really feel about him anymore. What if we can't patch things up?"

"Is that what you're going to do?" her sister asked incredulously.

"You've been slagging him off left, right, and centre for months and now just because he's coming to see you, it's going to be happy families?"

"People commit infidelity every day, Anna. Lots of them get over it. Somehow," Jen said, doubtfully, wondering how that was done exactly?

She continued, "Look at it this way, I can't stay here indefinitely."

"Mum and Dad aren't going to kick you out."

"I know that, but I can't stay here. I just can't."