‘Ask me another question,’ he said, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice.
‘How did the dog get hit by a tractor?’ She wanted to hear the reply, but most of her conscious thought had already left the conversation, centred instead on her growing need to feel him inside her again. She was spiralling away, with the heat rising and pulsing in her own body and the scent of his sweat laced with their sex filling her senses.
‘David had just learned to drive it and he didn’t realise Crusoe was behind him.’ The explanation was clipped, Gull’s words becoming increasingly breathless as she gripped with her fingers. He groaned and took hold of a knee, encouraging her to widen her legs. She was rewarded in kind, her own breath coming as a gasp. She fought to keep the conversation at the front of her mind as she widened her legs further still.
‘Why was he driving a tractor?’
‘We’re farmers,’ he said. ‘Arable crops.’
‘Farmers?’ Of all the jobs she’d thought he might have, this hadn’t featured.
‘Mmm. We grow stuff, you eat it. That sort of thing.’
Tania was barely holding onto the thread of the conversation, and it seemed Gull had totally lost interest. In one fluid movement, he moved on top of her and pulled her hips towards his.
From somewhere on the bedroom floor, Gull’s phone buzzed. It could have played a fanfare, danced a jig, exploded in a volley of fireworks. It would still have been ignored.
‘One more question.’ She said it purely to tease him, fully aware her mind had lost its ability to form coherent thoughts.
He shook his head. ‘No more questions.’ He slipped his hands beneath her buttocks, lifting until her hips lay at the perfect angle.
‘Do you need to start counting?’ Her words were nothing more than breath, spoken on a wave of need as his lips brushed at her neck, then settled millimetres from her own. ‘One hundred, ninety-nine … ninety-eight …’
‘Might need to start nearer to zero,’ he said. His kiss was accompanied by an audible hitch as she guided him inside.
‘Ten, nine, eight …’ she breathed, his lightning grin the last thing she saw before she surrendered herself to sensations all over again.
Madeleine moved with deliberate slowness. She wandered up the stairs to the living area and asked Tom for more wine. It wouldn’t hurt to give Rose a few minutes with one of her best friends, they might be able to help one another move forwards.
‘Is everything OK?’ he asked, handing her another chilled bottle of Chablis.
‘Yes. No. Who knows?’ she said. ‘Jury’s out at the moment.’ She thanked him and headed back down to Clara’s room. She knew he was asking about Clara, about her situation, but that wasn’t what Madeleine was talking about.
It had been a while since Madeleine had last felt the need to discuss her sexuality with anyone, but she knew exactly how Rose must be feeling. Knew exactly why she was downing Chablis like it was the only liquid left on the planet. It was the fear of the unknown. The uncertainty of what was to come next.
In Madeleine’s opinion, however, the fear of the unknown was often worse than the unknown itself. She was resolved to give Rose as long as she needed. They’d been an item barely a month and Madeleine already knew she wanted that month to turn into months, and with luck, years. And although Madeleine had never felt so right with anyone else, she recognised that the situation was a new one for Rose. It would take her time to work things out.
Having said that, Rose’s reaction to the suggestion to kiss in the bubble mid-station had been quick and surprisingly resolute in its negativity. Madeleine frowned. Should she feel worried about that? It was one thing for Rose to begin to explore her sexuality in private. And eventually she would do more than broach the idea of being open about it, she would begin to test her wings, as it were. But what if her fledgling explorations and her final roosting spot ended up being in different nests?
It was one thing to enter a relationship with your best friend and to live happily ever after. It was quite another to end up being nothing more than a stepping stone on her path. The thought of the pain that would accompany loving and then losing Rose made Madeleine feel nauseous.
She filled her cheeks with air, and then puffed it out in a sudden exhalation. She needed to banish the negativity and trust Rose. She had to trust that it would all come good. She rearranged her features as she twisted the door handle, pushing into Clara’s room with a grin and a wave of the bottle. ‘Got it,’ she said.
Chapter 31
Rose held her glass up, jiggling it impatiently as Madeleine twisted the top. Watching, hawk-like, as she poured. This was all going wrong. They’d come to Clara’s room to check onher, not so that she could go off the deep end about Tania and Gull.
And the pointed end of the shard of icicle that seemed to have lodged itself inside Rose wasn’t even about Tania. Or Gull. Up until this point she had managed to dance around the real issue. She’d hidden it, hidden from it. Madeleine was the only person who knew what it was truly about. Madeleinewaswhat it was about.
She took another large mouthful, determined to hide from it for a little while longer.
‘We just wanted you to know we’re here for you, Clara,’ she said. It sounded utterly inadequate.
Madeleine seemed to agree with the inadequacy of the words, she began to clarify. ‘What Rose is trying to say, is that—’
Clara didn’t allow her to finish her sentence. ‘Don’t think I’m not grateful,’ she said, with a gravity to her voice, a firmness which took Rose by surprise. ‘Everyone is so desperate to help me.’ She frowned, her focus shimmering and disappearing from the here and now as it had done repeatedly throughout the week.
‘Thing is,’ Clara continued, her eyes refocusing as she took hold of her glass, ‘I’m fine. I keep telling you all, I’m fine.’ She frowned. ‘Tom said something the other night, about letting the people who love me help me. And I get that. I know you are absolutely trying to do that for me.’ She looked at them, at Madeleine first and then her gaze settled on Rose. It was a direct gaze, one which didn’t falter. ‘And I never want you to think that I don’t appreciate it. I wasn’t expecting to enjoy being here, if I’m honest. I came because I knew being at home would be infinitely harder. But I’ve actually felt happy, there have been whole stretches of time here when I’ve been happy. And that’s down to the three of you.’
