‘I have wanted to—’ said Bobby.
‘I need to—’ said Riva, and she knew that more than anything she wanted them to be friends again.
They both wavered, but then he held out his arms. Relief washed over her as she fell into them and anyremaining shred of resentment about his lack of care at the beach evaporated.
‘You on your way to Lottie’s?’ he asked once he’d let go.
She glanced towards the door. ‘Yes, she said I could use the apartment.’
‘Super. I’ve had a bottle of champagne chilling in Lottie’s refrigerator ever since she left.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. It’s a Frigidaire from America. We don’t have one in our apartment.’
She laughed. ‘I meant the champagne not the refrigerator.’
He raised his brows. ‘Ah, yes. Well, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked up and down these stairs, or how many times I’ve sat on the top step waiting for you to turn up. Oh Riva, I’m so sorry. You were right and I was a stupid thoughtless fool—’
He was talking rapidly as if he couldn’t wait to get it all out and she was forced to interrupt. ‘No. I lied. It was my fault. I told you I was a strong swimmer.’
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said.
‘I’ve missed you too.’
‘So, champagne?’
They didn’t make love that evening, nor on her next night off the following week, nor on the one after – each time he had returned to the apartment he shared with Archie in the wee small hours. But on the fourth night together she sat looking at him as he sprawled on the sofa smokingand listening to the wireless. She was evaluating her own readiness when, ‘Why don’t you stay?’ she said. The words had just slipped out but then, more definitely, she said it again. ‘Stay with me tonight.’
She curled up next to him on the sofa and kissed him. There’d been plenty of kissing and talking, and now she felt as if she’d known him all her life. But not like an old friend. This was very different.
They went up the wide steps to the bedroom where she encouraged him to undress her slowly, item by item, until she was standing naked before him, not feeling at all bashful. One thing Riva was secure about was her body. She was healthy, strong, curvaceous, and she knew men found her attractive.
‘Shall we?’ he said, but then he stopped as if words had entirely failed him.
She sat on the bed moving deliberately slowly as she then lay back with her legs just slightly apart. In that moment, as he kept his eyes on her, the energy coursing between them was thrilling.
‘God, Riva,’ he said and tore off his own clothes. Still standing he leant over her and trailed his fingers from her throat down to her navel. A charge swept through her, and she instinctively raised her hips.
He grinned. ‘Oh no, not yet.’
She laughed and held out her arms to him. ‘Come here, you clown.’
He shook his head.
‘I haven’t, you know, before,’ she said.
‘I guessed.’
He placed a palm on her stomach and then slid his fingers down to her thighs, parting her legs further, stroking her until she could no longer bear it. She pulled him down on top of her and ran her hands all the way down his back and then, grasping his buttocks, she tried guiding him into her. With little experience she was counting on instinct.
But then he whispered, ‘Not so fast,’ and searching his face, she wondered if she might have done something wrong.
But he didn’t look bothered and reaching down for his trousers he drew something out.
‘What?’ she said.
‘“Gentlemen’s rubber goods” they call them. You must have heard of them. Ghastly things,’ he said laughing, ‘though I’m reliably informed the Americans will come up with something much better soon.’
