Body and Soul (13 page)

‘Yes, I know that, my dear. Do you think that I am any less excited than you are right now? I am not. I am lying on my bed, legs spread and ready to receive the joy sex with you always gives me. Speak to me, tell me all the things you would like to be doing with me. They’re very exciting, these erotic telephone conversations we have together, or I should say used to have together. They narrow the distance between us. Do you always come with me during phone sex? I want you to come with me now. I wish I could taste you on my tongue, feel you hard and thick taking possession of me, filling me with the lust you have for me and me alone. Oh, God, I’ve just come and it’s sublime.’

Laurent wanted to weep with joy, shout out to the world how exquisite they were together in sex. So well matched, so willing to serve each other in the erotic world they dwelt in. Eden had always understood how much he needed her to excite him when they were thousands of miles apart. At first she had been hesitant to tease him on the telephone with her sexy voice and lewd talk. But when they had been in love and wanting to be intimate all the time, telephone sex became important in their relationship.

After a while spent turning Laurent on, imagining him coming or merely fondling himself, Eden found the power to control him a turn on for herself. In time she came to look forward to telephone sex with him, coming on her own, enjoyed fondling herself, sighing with the deep satisfaction of selfish one-sided sex, the privacy of it. Laurent adored her even more for being able to come just from their talk.

He used to get such a high from it that he formed a habit of calling Eden from the stage telephone minutes before he would walk out to the already seated orchestra. Many was the time when the audience had to wait while he got his erection under control.

Laurent told her now, ‘You can always do it for me like no other woman can.’

‘Have there been many other women, Laurent?’

‘Many. I would be lying if I said otherwise.’

‘I am glad,’ she told him.

‘What else could I do? You taught me to love sex, made me into
an accomplished lover. I may have been heartbroken, my dear, but I wasn’t stupid.’

‘No, never stupid. I did love you, you know, and then it was over, love had run its course. How many people have you walked away from because a love affair was over? Many more than I have, I am sure of that.’

‘That’s probably true. So love has run its course for us, is that what you’re telling me?’

‘No, I said it
had
run its course.’

‘And now?

‘There is sex and music between us. That is quite enough to begin with, don’t you think?’ asked Eden flirtatiously.

‘I want you to come again – I know you will. Just imagine I am there on top of you, slowly, methodically, fucking you.’

Laurent continued to excite Eden with his own brand of lewd conversation. He offered her sex as rough and ready as if he were a stevedore or a lorry driver, a bricklayer lover, and knew when she had come because she let go that special kind of sigh that only accompanies orgasm.

Chapter 13

It was nearly four weeks since Garfield had had his confrontation with Eden in Cairo. As long as he was busy touring Upper Egypt he’d been able to put it out of his mind. But now that he was back in Paris where every newspaper had something to say about Eden Sidd’s comeback, where she was a topic of conversation in the circles he frequented, and most especially the day he saw posters for Epidaurus, that meeting returned to haunt him. Not the confrontation, merely the shock of seeing her again.

It came as something of a surprise to Garfield that he should still want her as much as he did. He had always adored her for being such a great artist, world-class successful. That had been part of his falling in love with her. In Cairo the sexual attraction had been as intense as when they’d first met. Of all the women he had had in his life she was the one for whom he had felt real love. She was the gigolo’s bonus, love and great sex as well as another victim to exploit.

Yes, he had exploited her at every turn. It had been a glorious love affair because she had given him everything. She’d made it so easy by her generosity. She legitimised the dark greedy side of his nature. That was why he pushed further and further, took everything from her. He was able to justify his actions by putting it down to the quirks in his nature, and always maintained he could see nothing wrong in them.

Dante had been right to make him leave her. Love, her kind of love, was a dead loss for a man like him. Yet now, having seen her again, pulling off a great coup for her return, setting herself up for
the world to see and hear, and thinking not least about the wealth she would gain from performing again, made Garfield think that he may have made a grave error by dumping her when she was down and struggling. Had he underestimated her? Obviously he had. There was a great deal more to get from loving Eden. No matter what she’d said in the
Souq
in front of Feshawi’s, he was confident that she still loved him. He had even said as much.

Garfield pressed his hand to his cheek and remembered the painful bruise Eden had given him when she had hit him with her handbag. Oh, yes, she still loved him, still wanted him. A plan of how to win her back began forming in his mind. She was back in the celebrity market and he was determined to be right there with her.

Memories kept flooding back: how the world had once rushed to embrace them as a beautiful and talented couple, how welcome they had been at gallery openings, musical events, concerts, opera openings. They had made the list for the most interesting dinner and cocktail parties in San Francisco, New York, London, Paris, Berlin.

People had flocked to be invited to their houses in Hydra, her Park Avenue flat in New York, but they had hardly entertained. For the most part Garfield had been happy to keep their life together at home just for them and no one else. How many times had he used the excuse that he didn’t want to share her but to keep her to himself? He had enjoyed his life with Eden but at the same time he had been a free agent, had gone out discreetly with other women under the guise of business. The wealthy men and women he cultivated, patrons of the arts, had offered him many and varied rewards. Eden had believed whatever he told her and dutifully stayed at home waiting for him, cooking intimate dinners, making herself attractive and sexy, open and ready for sex at any time he wanted it.

He had always told her that when she was back on her feet he would return to claim her and they would begin again. Well, now was the time for him to make his move. He rang Dante and they made a date to meet in Garfield’s studio.

He was already there and painting when he heard his friend’s
key in the lock. The two men embraced as they always did on meeting. ‘Oh, you’re getting on again with the dune painting. It’s looking marvellous. Have you showed it to Cecile?’

‘No, and don’t mention it to her. I’m keeping canvasses aside for a show in New York. You know Cecile, she’ll want control of them and I don’t want her to represent me in New York. We agreed I need better representation there. I’m going to go for the Castelli Gallery. They were interested, or at least Leo said he was. I’m sorry he died but the gallery still goes on and I’m in very well with the women running it. Anyway, work isn’t why I asked you to come by. I’ve decided to go after Eden.’

‘I thought that was dead, finished forever?’

‘I thought so too. But when I saw her in Cairo, I knew that it wasn’t. She’s on top again or will be once she plays those comeback performances she’s planning.’

‘I understand all the seats are sold for both nights at Epidaurus. Such a clever campaign Max has pulled together. Have you seen the posters? They’re sensational. So sexy that stance of hers, so outrageous that dress. Valentino, I’m sure. She won’t take you back and I don’t think you should waste any time trying. I don’t believe you love her. You’re not going to give me that twaddle about her being the only woman you really loved, are you? Pull yourself together, stick to our plan. We have shows to paint and ladies and gentlemen who want to sponsor you and our lifestyle. You have a wife and son and me, and are attractive to any number of men and women who want to have sex with you. Be smart, my dear, and forget Eden Sidd. If you can’t get her out of your head then go for the sex and be done with her is my best advice.’

‘Why are you getting so angry over this, Dante?’

‘Because Eden Sidd is dangerous. She nearly ruined our way of life once, she could do it again. She doesn’t accept, as your wife and son do, that I am a part of your life and always will be. You nearly abandoned me once because of Eden, I’ll not have that happen again. If you love anyone, you love me and your son. And that’s the truth of the matter. If you feel a need to have sex with her than just do and leave her. Better still, don’t do it and find someone else who can further us.’

Garfield could see how upset Dante was, and that it was not one of his performances. He was full of genuine
angoisse
over the very notion of Garfield trying to win Eden back. He went to Dante and placed an arm round his shoulders, hugging his old friend to him. Garfield stroked his cheek and told him, ‘Calm down, we’ll do Eden together or I’ll drop any further interest in her. I left her for you and our life plan once, I can do it again if I have to. Just listen to my plan because it includes you.’

‘Go on then. I can see we’ll never be rid of Eden Sidd until you’ve been shown she’s an impossible equation in our life.’

‘Eden’s angry over my walking out on her. I want you to approach her for me. Go to her and tell her how sorry I am for the way I treated her in the past, that time has proved to me she is my only true love and my life is empty without her. Explain that we both miss her and want her to be a part of our lives. Make her understand that it was her fault I had to leave her and that it was the greatest mistake of my life. What am I telling you? You’re a master at getting women interested in me.’

‘Things are a bit different now, Garfield. You have a wife, a son. The wife Eden wanted to be, the child you never had together. She may not want to take that problem on,’ suggested Dante.

‘That won’t matter to Eden if you make her understand that I am in a marriage that is more of a business arrangement than a love match. That we stay together for the sake of our son and her social ambitions. Eden would love Desmond as much as I do and I would take him with me if I were to divorce Claudine.’

‘I don’t like it!’ exclaimed Dante.

‘No, but you will like the rewards. With her connections, once we are a part of Eden’s life again, all sorts of doors will open for us. The galleries won’t want to pass up a chance to exhibit our paintings. Think of all the socialising and the new people we’ll have entrée to. You love New York and there’s Eden’s flat there which we can use to show our work to prospective clients. And, most important, you want to see me happy – it’s a long time since I have been.’

‘There are other women I can find for you, Garfield. And though one does not want be crude they’re fuckable, dear boy, as fuckable
as Eden, and easier to manipulate
and
surely with a great deal more money. Try and keep some perspective: she knows we have little money and yet she never, not even at the height of your fling with her, gave us a dime, never even paid our travel expenses. Big deal, she gave you a roof over your head and fed you when you were together. Don’t look at me that way! We live by the generosity of wealthy men and women who appreciate that we are poor artists who need patrons to carry on with our work. You adore our houses in Hydra, Venice, this studio and our flats here in Paris. We’re all right for a few months because Cecile has sold well for you but what then?’

Garfield stroked Dante’s cheek, kissed him and told him, ‘Do this for me. I promise she can be made a part of our extended family, and if she cannot I will leave her once and for all.’

Garfield could see the love for him in Dante’s eyes and knew his friend would do it. Pimping was a way of life for them, always had been for as long as they had been together. Dante had a love for Garfield that was unshakable, he simply could not say no to him. That was what kept them together. He loved Garfield the way a woman loves a man. Garfield, even after all the years they had been together, flirted outrageously with him to get what he wanted. They were like a couple in an open marriage, truly partners in life.

Dante was eccentric in his dress; in his day-to-day living he had not a strand of moral fibre. He was avaricious yet never wasted money, a luxury-loving miser who played the role of struggling artist to the hilt. Yet he collected grand houses and lived in them in genteel poverty. He was in fact a better painter than Garfield but was lazy whereas Garfield always found the energy to work. Everything they did in life was to promote Garfield and his work. They were extremely clever hustlers.

Dante had enormous charm in a Byzantine fashion. He was welcome wherever he wanted to be. Men and women with time and money on their hands enjoyed his company. He was enormously knowledgeable about art and fed it to his victims like pap to a baby. He created an aura around him of other worldliness as if half the time he was in a state of nirvana. The ladies who lunch
and do the galleries, art dealers and successful painters, millionaire businessmen who saw him for what he was but toyed with him anyway, loved that in him.

Dante represented to them a bohemian lifestyle missing from their world. He was clever about enticing them on with something they could never have and would always want. He represented the other side of their lives, a life of no responsibilities, no morality, and he could paint whereas all they could do was buy their diversions. He made them feel he was a superior being because he could meditate and make meditation and stillness his true self. No matter how many victims he left the poorer in his wake, he could always find replacements.

Eden woke late on her first day back home. The scent of frying bacon wafted through the house, a pleasant aroma to wake up to. She slipped into a pale blue moiré robe with navy blue velvet revers and stared at herself in a full-length mirror framed in early-nineteenth-century Damascus work. She was surprised to see a beautiful face, younger than her years. There was a vitality in it that had not been there the last time she had looked in that mirror. She felt incredibly happy but a stranger to herself, her bedroom, her own house.

She looked away from the mirror to her room: the dishevelled bed, the furniture, the view through the window. They were all the same, it was merely she who was different. A strange sensation but not one to dwell on. Her life had been suspended in this house while she had played the game of getting old; now she was back there would be much to get used to in the new Eden Sidd.

The dogs! Eden flung open her bedroom door and took them by surprise. They had been lying on the floor outside. They scrambled to their feet and charged at her, nearly knocking her over. They all barked, Chekov howled, the Shi Tsus leaped high into the air. Winkie, after several tries, made it into Eden’s arms. Wonkie, always competitive and looking for attention, only seconds later landed on Winkie. The pair continued to yap in between licking her face. Chekov the Russian wolfhound pressed against Eden and pushed her to the bed where she collapsed. In a flash
the three dogs were there on it as well, crawling all over her.

They quite obviously saw no difference in her. She had the good grace to recognise that and laugh at herself about the change that had come over her. She made up her mind then and there that her feeling of being a new woman would remain her secret. It was too private, a very personal sensation that had nothing to do with anyone else. People would think it fanciful, dramatic at the very least.

It took a considerable time for the dogs to settle. With Wonkie in her arms and Chekov and Winkie following on her heels she went downstairs and walked through the hall and into the kitchen.

‘Scrambled or poached? They’re duck eggs. Picked them up this morning,’ said Rachel who had her back to Eden and now turned round.

‘Fried, I think.’

‘My, but you look well! You must have had a wonderful time. I’m glad to see you,’ said a smiling Rachel.

Eden grabbed a piece of toast that had just popped up from the toaster. She sat down in the chair closest to her housekeeper who was cooking again.

‘I have a great deal to tell you. There are going to be some changes round here.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because I’m going to play in public again.’

‘What kind of changes?’

Typical of Rachel to get right down to basics, thought Eden. ‘Well, for one thing there’ll be more people around trying to see me. I might on occasion have to see them. People will be curious about my lifestyle so we’ll have to keep a low profile and stay quiet about my love affairs.’

‘You’ve no need to worry about love affairs, I haven’t seen many of them round here lately.’

‘That’s cheeky of you, Rachel.’

‘I wish I did have something to reveal, for your sake not mine.’

Rachel poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Eden. ‘What are you telling me exactly?’ she pressed.