shrugging a bulky fur-collared coat over his summery clothes. ‘… but I shall never forgive you if you do not bring this wild woman to my show tonight.’
‘I’ve no intention of going
anywhere
without this woman!’ Jeffrey retorted, and then, standing, hugged the diminutive teddy bear the top coat had made of Qito. Springing upward from the table Helen felt filled with enough love to spare a little for Qito. She had to dip her head to kiss his cheek as he pulled her into a strong, wiry, embrace.
‘Together we shall make a masterpiece,’ he told her. Then, waving a hand to Jeffrey, turned for the door. ‘Until tonight,’ he called.
It was only as she saw Annabel hurrying to see Qito out that Helen remembered her existence. Suddenly shocked with herself she turned to Jeffrey. ‘Annabel was here?’ she asked. ‘Did she hear everything …?’ The look on Jeffrey’s face told her that she had, and Helen stood, aghast – hand over her mouth – as she heard the door close and the soft sounds of Annabel’s return.
‘Would anyone like a drink?’ Annabel asked with such insouciance that Helen almost burst out laughing.
‘We’d love one,’ answered Jeffrey.
The moment Annabel had gone, Helen turned to Jeffrey. ‘Whatever must she think?’ she asked in hollowed, self-horrified, tones.
‘She probably thinks, as will everyone else, how lucky I am.’
She looked into his eyes and noticed for the first time that they were grey with exquisitely placed segments of black. They were beautiful eyes she decided, and she felt herself melting before them. ‘Don’t ever let it stop,’ she whispered then, feeling her body starting to tremble, and hastily added, ‘I rather like the idea of being possessed.’
‘And
I
meant it – I want to possess you rather than just “have”.’
‘You already do. I just need you to keep reminding me.’
They stood apart, like duellists looking for an opening, with distinctively differing thoughts. Jeffrey felt blessed while she felt an irresistible, masochistic mist enshroud her.
‘Do something to me,’ she breathed. ‘Now – this minute!’
Jeffrey’s smile was lazy. ‘Don’t you think you ought to think about getting ready?’
‘For what?’
‘Didn’t you hear Qito invite us to his showing this evening? It’s a huge affair. A gala in fact. I want you to look devastating.’
‘In
what
?’ she seethed. ‘You brought me here naked.’
‘That would be devastating,’ he agreed. ‘But hardly suitable for presentation to the French President.’
‘The President of France is going to be in London?’ she demanded in a voice filled with sudden alarm.
‘No,’ said Jeffrey patiently. ‘We are going to be in Paris.’
‘Tonight?’ she squealed.
‘Well that’s where Qito’s gala preview is being held.’
Helen’s mind was running wildly beyond coherence. ‘But … Paris? Tonight?’ Exasperated, she turned to Jeffrey. ‘It’s impossible!’
The infuriating smile still on his lips he spoke. ‘No it isn’t. Paris is a thirty-five minute plane ride – little more than a cab ride when you think about it.’
‘But I’m not ready. I’ve nothing packed. Nothing
to
pack! Jeffrey – this is impossible!’
‘Nothing’s impossible,’ he said, coming towards her and seeking an embrace. ‘You have the gown I brought you.’
‘That’s still in my apartment.’ Bustling with sudden urgency she turned back to Jeffrey. ‘I’ll have to go back to my place. What time are we expected?’
‘A President of a Republic doesn’t “expect” – he commands. We must be there by eight.’
‘Oh Lord! How will I … how can I …?’
Jeffrey smiled. ‘You will,’ he told her. ‘I’ll have Turner drive you home and I’ll pick you up from your place at six, but you’d better put something on in the meanwhile.’
Panicked, she started a fervent hunt for her long-discarded raincoat only to find that a smiling Annabel was already holding it out
‘I’ve no intention of going
anywhere
without this woman!’ Jeffrey retorted, and then, standing, hugged the diminutive teddy bear the top coat had made of Qito. Springing upward from the table Helen felt filled with enough love to spare a little for Qito. She had to dip her head to kiss his cheek as he pulled her into a strong, wiry, embrace.
‘Together we shall make a masterpiece,’ he told her. Then, waving a hand to Jeffrey, turned for the door. ‘Until tonight,’ he called.
It was only as she saw Annabel hurrying to see Qito out that Helen remembered her existence. Suddenly shocked with herself she turned to Jeffrey. ‘Annabel was here?’ she asked. ‘Did she hear everything …?’ The look on Jeffrey’s face told her that she had, and Helen stood, aghast – hand over her mouth – as she heard the door close and the soft sounds of Annabel’s return.
‘Would anyone like a drink?’ Annabel asked with such insouciance that Helen almost burst out laughing.
‘We’d love one,’ answered Jeffrey.
The moment Annabel had gone, Helen turned to Jeffrey. ‘Whatever must she think?’ she asked in hollowed, self-horrified, tones.
‘She probably thinks, as will everyone else, how lucky I am.’
She looked into his eyes and noticed for the first time that they were grey with exquisitely placed segments of black. They were beautiful eyes she decided, and she felt herself melting before them. ‘Don’t ever let it stop,’ she whispered then, feeling her body starting to tremble, and hastily added, ‘I rather like the idea of being possessed.’
‘And
I
meant it – I want to possess you rather than just “have”.’
‘You already do. I just need you to keep reminding me.’
They stood apart, like duellists looking for an opening, with distinctively differing thoughts. Jeffrey felt blessed while she felt an irresistible, masochistic mist enshroud her.
‘Do something to me,’ she breathed. ‘Now – this minute!’
Jeffrey’s smile was lazy. ‘Don’t you think you ought to think about getting ready?’
‘For what?’
‘Didn’t you hear Qito invite us to his showing this evening? It’s a huge affair. A gala in fact. I want you to look devastating.’
‘In
what
?’ she seethed. ‘You brought me here naked.’
‘That would be devastating,’ he agreed. ‘But hardly suitable for presentation to the French President.’
‘The President of France is going to be in London?’ she demanded in a voice filled with sudden alarm.
‘No,’ said Jeffrey patiently. ‘We are going to be in Paris.’
‘Tonight?’ she squealed.
‘Well that’s where Qito’s gala preview is being held.’
Helen’s mind was running wildly beyond coherence. ‘But … Paris? Tonight?’ Exasperated, she turned to Jeffrey. ‘It’s impossible!’
The infuriating smile still on his lips he spoke. ‘No it isn’t. Paris is a thirty-five minute plane ride – little more than a cab ride when you think about it.’
‘But I’m not ready. I’ve nothing packed. Nothing
to
pack! Jeffrey – this is impossible!’
‘Nothing’s impossible,’ he said, coming towards her and seeking an embrace. ‘You have the gown I brought you.’
‘That’s still in my apartment.’ Bustling with sudden urgency she turned back to Jeffrey. ‘I’ll have to go back to my place. What time are we expected?’
‘A President of a Republic doesn’t “expect” – he commands. We must be there by eight.’
‘Oh Lord! How will I … how can I …?’
Jeffrey smiled. ‘You will,’ he told her. ‘I’ll have Turner drive you home and I’ll pick you up from your place at six, but you’d better put something on in the meanwhile.’
Panicked, she started a fervent hunt for her long-discarded raincoat only to find that a smiling Annabel was already holding it out
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