Act of Will (51 page)

But he stopped abruptly, said in an urgent voice that was low and thick with desire, ‘I’ve got to have you now, I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I’ve got to be inside you, Christie.’

‘Yes, yes, I know.’

He braced himself above her on his hands, looked down into her face, experiencing the most overwhelming feelings for her. And instantly he saw the radiance that filled her face, saw the joy and desire for him in her marvellous eyes, and he knew everything he needed or ever wanted to know.

Christina reached up to touch his hair, then smoothed her hand along his tense cheek, looked up into his eyes, her gaze penetrating. ‘Oh Miles,’ she sighed, ‘Oh Miles.’

He lowered himself on top of her, pushing his hands under her buttocks and drew her closer to him. And as he entered her he felt a rush of intense heat searing through his whole body, reaching up to touch his heart and then his mind. He plunged deeper into her, quickly, expertly, and she moved against him and they found their own rhythm immediately, their entwined bodies rising and falling together. And he thought triumphantly:
I knew it. I knew it would be perfect with her, that we were meant for each other, that we would be as one
.

And Christina, clinging to him, thought:
I never realized it could be like this. I want all of him, every part of him, I want to be bound to him always, to be in his arms always. I belong to him now. He has made me his tonight. Irrevocably and completely his
.

Suddenly Miles felt a great wave of strength and passion surging through him unchecked, and he could no longer restrain himself, and unable to hold back he cried against her tumbled hair, ‘Oh my darling, my darling I’m so sorry I can’t help it I’m coming oh please come to me my darling.’

‘I will, I will, Miles! Oh Miles!’

‘Christie,
now
. Oh my Christie! Oh my God!’

***

The match flared in the semi-darkness of the room as he lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, then turned to her and said softly, ‘I’m sorry, that was too quick. It’ll be better next time.’

‘Don’t be so silly Miles… it was wonderful, you’re wonderful.’

‘Ah, but you’re prejudiced, my love.’

‘Well yes, I am, but nevertheless what I just said
is
true.’ She smiled at him.

Miles smiled back. It was a tender smile, and he put
his arm around her, pulled her closer, so that her head rested against his chest.

‘May I ask you a question, Miles?’

‘Of course.’

‘What did you mean when you said that our reading things about each other in the newspapers and remembering them signified something special?’

‘It suddenly struck me in the bar earlier that perhaps we’d been unconsciously drawn to each other before we actually met at Jane’s party.’

She smiled against his chest. ‘I think I was.’

‘So was I… I do believe,’ he admitted.

Christina confessed, ‘When I saw you come out onto the terrace at Hadley I got a terrible pain in my chest, a tightness that was really quite awful, and I felt very wobbly all of a sudden.’

Miles smiled. She was so open and guileless. Relatively few women would have told him something so revealing at this stage in the relationship. But he was glad she had. She was straightforward, an innocent, despite her sophisticated circle of friends. He liked this about her. He was pleased she was untarnished by other men.

‘If it makes you feel any better, Christie, I had a strong reaction to you, too. I knew I had to see you again.’ He drew on his cigarette, flicked ash in the ashtray on the bedside table. ‘And I really was most frightfully annoyed when I had to cancel lunch at the last minute.’

‘So was I… well, disappointed really, Miles… When did you decide to come to Paris?’

‘Earlier in the week. Fridays are generally quiet in the Commons. They’re usually devoted to uncontroversial issues and private bills, and I knew I could get away early, so I booked a flight—’

‘And obviously rang up Bruton Street to ask where I was staying.’

‘I did.’

‘I’m surprised my secretary didn’t tell me.’

Miles chuckled. ‘I said I was calling for Susan Radley, that she wished to send you flowers and needed the name of your hotel in Paris. I explained you weren’t to be told, since the flowers were meant to be a surprise. And I thought to add that I was the florist.’

Christina laughed. ‘Aren’t you the crafty one,’ she teased. ‘And why didn’t you want me to know you were coming to Paris? Obviously you
didn’t
, from what you’ve just said.’

‘I wanted to surprise you.’

‘How did you know I wasn’t meeting someone here? A special man? A lover?’

‘I hoped and prayed you weren’t.’ Stubbing out the cigarette, Miles bent over her, kissed her brow, whispered, ‘Are you glad I decided to hop over?’

‘Yes, Miles, very glad.’ Her arms went around him and they kissed quietly and then Christina placed her hands on his bare chest and gently pushed him away, looked up at him. ‘Are you going to stay through tomorrow too?’

‘Oh yes, indeed I am. In fact, I’m going to stay all weekend. I’m not leaving until early on Monday morning, my sweet.’ The lazy smile touched his mouth and he took hold of her shoulders, forced her down onto the pillows. Kneeling over her he began to stroke her breasts and then her stomach, murmuring, ‘Now lie still, don’t say a word, I want to make love to you in a very special way…’

***

They got up at midnight and went out.

Miles loved jazz and he took her to one of his favourite old haunts, the Mars Club, just off the Champs Elysées.
It was dark and smoky and intimate. They sat squashed close together on a red plush banquette, holding hands, and he drank slightly warm Scotch and she sipped icy white wine. And between sets he talked jazz, told her about Bix Beiderbecke and Charlie Parker and Fats Waller and Django Reinhardt and Louis Armstrong. And from time to time he would kiss her cheek unexpectedly, or squeeze her knee, and smile into her eyes, and as the minutes ticked by Christina fell more and more in love with Miles Sutherland.

Later they went off to Les Halles, the old market, to have the famous onion soup at one of the little cafés, and as they spooned it up hungrily, and ate the toasted French bread and runny cheese that floated on top, he spoke of his childhood, of growing up in the rambling old country house in Suffolk that had been his family’s home for centuries. And she listened attentively, relishing every word, enjoying hearing about his youth and his father and mother, and it was almost six in the morning when they returned to the Ritz, holding hands and laughing, still wide awake and excited about discovering each other.

Miles opened the door of her suite and followed her inside.

‘You’re not going to throw me out?’ he asked, removing his jacket, loosening his tie, slipping off his shoes. ‘I
can
sleep here with you, can’t I? Please don’t banish me…’

Her answer was a smile at him, a long, slow smile, and her hand. He took it in his and together they walked into the bedroom.

Miles closed the door and locked it. He took her in his arms, whispering her name over and over again as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. And they made love once more and slept, and made love, and that’s that way it was for the rest of the weekend.

‘No two ways about it,’ Miles said to Christina on Sunday night, ‘I’ve got a really horrendous week ahead of me.’

They were having dinner at La Coupole on the Left Bank and she looked at him, put her fork down on her plate. He hadn’t sounded serious at all during the weekend. Now he did. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, reaching for her glass of wine.

Miles leaned closer. ‘Hugh Gaitskell is going to be coming down hard on Anthony Eden because of the trouble with Nasser and the Suez Canal. I’m going to be really slogging it out with my opposition, especially as one of Hugh’s protégés. But then I suppose the entire shadow cabinet is going to be on the attack. It’s such a terrible mess.’

‘You don’t really think there’s going to be a war in the Middle East, do you?’

Miles nodded and his face became instantly grave. ‘I’m afraid so—Egypt—because of the Canal problems. But let’s not discuss it tonight. When will you be coming back to London, Christie?’

‘Not until Saturday. My lawyer Maître Bitoun needs me here to conclude everything with the perfume manufacturer.’

Miles took hold of her hand and he gave her a
mischievous look. ‘Shall I come back next weekend… to be with you here?’

‘Oh Miles, could you?’ Her face flushed, grew intensely bright and her eyes sparkled. ‘That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?’

‘That’s what I think,’ he said and grinned.

After dinner they walked for a while and then they took a rackety old cab, the only one they could find, back to the hotel. ‘I swear to God he’s three sheets to the wind,’ Miles muttered in her ear as they sat on the back seat holding hands while the driver weaved his way across Paris somewhat perilously.

Later that night, as he held her in his arms in bed, Miles said in his low, intense voice, ‘I’m afraid I’m getting rather entangled with you, Christie.’

‘And I with you, Miles.’

‘I know I shouldn’t, that we shouldn’t, but I just can’t seem to stop myself, or
you
, I suppose.’

‘Why shouldn’t we get involved?’ Christie asked, drawing closer, wrapping one leg over his body, tightening her arms around him.

A deep sigh rippled through Miles and for a moment he did not respond, then he said, very quietly, ‘I’ve nothing to offer… she’ll never divorce me…’

‘I don’t care.’

‘You might one day, Christina.’

‘Why won’t she? Divorce you, I mean?’

‘I’ve not been able to fathom it, actually. You see, she doesn’t want me, but she doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.’

‘Do I? Have you, I mean? Do I have just a tiny little half inch of you?’

He smiled. Now it was her turn to fish. He had been doing that almost the entire weekend in a variety of
different ways, at times feeling as foolish as a lovesick schoolboy.

Miles said, ‘Yes, you do… just a tiny little half inch of me, as you said.’ He bent over her, kissed her hair. ‘However, I think too much of you to play games with you, darling. I want this, want us, want you. Yes, I
damn well
do want what we’ve started this weekend to continue… selfishly I want it. But if we do continue, it would have to be a clandestine affair. That’s not fair to you. If Candida ever found out she would create a frightful scandal. I couldn’t afford that… there’s my political career—don’t you see?’

‘I do. But
I
want
us
too, Miles.
I want you
. Look, we can be careful. We don’t have to go out… be in public. I don’t mind it being secret.’

‘You’ll mind one day, Christie.’

‘Oh no, I won’t, Miles.’

He made no response. He held her close in his arms and eventually they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

***

Miles left for London the following morning.

He thought about this last conversation a lot in the ensuing week, as he went from his flat in Knightsbridge to the House of Commons, and about his other business. And over and over again he asked himself if he ought not to take matters into his own hands and simply terminate their relationship. Miles Sutherland was a responsible man and bore no resemblance to the cad Jane Sedgewick had conjured up in her girlish imagination. He was honest, caring and decent, a man of honour, a man of commitment. He longed to be free of his neurotic wife; he had no interest in her money or her father’s money, since he was a man of private wealth himself.

End it now, before it gets out of hand, he kept saying
to himself, but then he would telephone Christie at the Ritz in the evening, as he had said he would, and the sound of her voice drove any thoughts of rational action right out of his head. He wanted this woman in a way he had never wanted a woman before. He was hopelessly involved with her whether he wanted to be or not.
He could not change the way he felt
.

And so on Friday afternoon he flew back to Paris.

The minute Miles walked into her suite and saw Christina, he felt his heart skip a beat and his spirits lift, and he knew that
he
would never be the one to put an end to their love affair. She was like air and light and sun to him.

Christina had second-guessed him. Before he even got a chance to say he did not wish to go out to a restaurant to dine, she informed him she had ordered some smoked salmon, brie, French bread and fresh fruit, and that they were about to have a picnic. ‘In bed,’ she said gaily, laughing as she brought him a glass of Scotch with ice and a splash of soda, mixed exactly the way he liked it.

After they had sipped their drinks, Miles put his hand in his pocket and brought out a small red leather jewel case. ‘These are for you, Christie. Opals… remember how I said you should always wear opals the night we met?’

‘Oh Miles, they’re so beautiful!’ she exclaimed, ‘exquisite.’ She glanced up at him, her eyes shining. ‘I’ve never seen anything with such fire…’

‘Yes, and they’re going to look superb on you. Come, let’s see.’

He led her to the mirror and she fastened the earrings on, and admired them, and he admired her wearing them and they laughed, enjoying being together again. And
then she ran into the bedroom and returned with a package.

‘This is for you,’ she said.

He was grinning with pleasure as he tore off the paper. ‘Oh my God, you
really
shouldn’t have!’ He shook his head, looking down at the Cartier gold cigarette case in his hand.

Much, much later when they made love, it seemed to Miles that he had never touched her before. Every part of her body seemed fresh and new to him, and more beautiful than ever. And at one moment, at the height of his passion, as he soared above her in ecstasy, he cried out, ‘I love you, Christie! I’ve fallen in love with you!’

‘And I love you, Miles! Oh my darling, I love you so much!’

They were ecstatic when they were together, obsessed with each other. This was not a question of one loving the other more. They were crazy about each other. They were deeply and intensely involved on every level. It was her first real love affair; although Miles was worldly, experienced sexually, and had had other affairs, he realized that this was the first time he had ever been truly in love.