Lovers and Liars (74 page)

‘I know. I’m doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t do. I didn’t mean to discuss Lise, or run her down. But sometimes - just for once - I’d like someone to understand what my famously perfect marriage is actually like. I’ve fathered two children by a woman I neither love nor respect - and if Lise is paying the consequences for that, so am 1. Unlike Lise, I don’t take refuge in lies, or pills. I have other remedies. Sometimes drink - just to get me through the night - and sometimes women. The drink is too addictive, too dangerous, as we saw with your father tonight. So these days I settle for something that’s easier, readily available, and much less habit-forming. Women. I screw around, Gini. Yes.’

There was a pause. Gini could sense it again, that little pulse of danger in the room, and unease too.

‘Are women not habit-forming, not addictive?’ she said. Hawthorne looked at her closely. ‘Is that what McMullen implied? That I needed women for some kind of regular fixT His face hardened. ‘Well, if he did, it wouldn’t surprise me. Lise has made that particular accusation, and variations upon it, many times. I don’t think it’s true. I told you. I like women. I like sex. So, yes, I’ve been unfaithful to my wife. I was unfaithful for the first time eighteen months into our marriage, and I’ve been unfaithful on many occasions since. If you want chapter and verse, in eight and a half years I’ve had four affairs of some duration, in each case with kind, discreet, married women. Women I liked. Women I respected. They began by mutual agreement and ended without tears the same way and . He stopped, as if considering whether to reveal the rest.

‘And all right/ he went on, angrily now, ‘there have been other episodes as well. One-night stands, if you like. I’ve slept with other women for no better reason than that I was away

someplace, and I was tired, and I was lonely and sick at heart and they were there. So, just like a million other men, I gave in to the illusion that a woman might help … ‘ He stopped again. .‘I’m a politician, not a priest, Gini. Sometimes it’s very simple. I just meet a woman I want to fuck.’

There was another silence, and this time Gini could sense the danger in the room acutely. He had been shifting their relationship, she realized, throughout this conversation, drawing her deeper into an area of his life where it was unwise to trespass, and now

with that one final verb - he had shifted their relationship again. This was no longer a confession, and it had long ceased to be an interview: they were now simply a man and a woman, alone in a room at night. Hawthorne might have been scrupulous up to that moment, attempting to curb his emotion, keeping his distance, but the instant he uttered that word, all that changed. The silence between them was now loaded, and it carried a sexual charge.

She was not certain if Hawthorne had planned it that way she thought not. But she knew he could sense it as acutely as she could, and she could read it in the alteration of his face. He put down his glass, and leaned forward.

‘That shocks youT he said. ‘You look shocked.’

‘No. I’m not shocked. It’s not a word careful politicians use too often. Maybe it’s that.’

‘I’m not speaking as a politician. I’m not speaking carefully. I thought you understood that.’ He met her eyes. ‘It’s a common enough word. It’s exact.’

‘It is that.’

‘You find it distasteful, all the same.’ He halfsmiled. ‘Don’t deny it, I can see it in your face. There … ‘ He leaned across the space dividing them, and touched her forehead very lightly, between her brows. He withdrew his hand at once. ‘There. The smallest frown. And in the eyes too. I can see it. You disapprove.’ He sighed. ‘Why, Gini? Is it so bad? Just to want to fuck someone? Isn’t it honest to admit it, at least?’

‘It isn’t that.’ She rose hastily to her feet.

‘Would you approve more if I told you I’d been looking for someone to loveT He looked up at her, still with that tired halfsmile, then he also rose. They were now standing very close to one another. His expression became serious.

‘Would you rather hear that? Most women would.’ ‘No. Why should I? It makes no difference .

She began to move away. Hawthorne touched her arm lightly and drew her back so she faced him. ‘Wrong,’ he said. ‘Wrong, Gini. It makes all the difference. You know that .

Gini gave a small quick defensive gesture of the hand. She had the sensation that events were moving, turning, speeding up. They were flashing past her eyes very fast, like a succession of lights on a freeway.

‘Listen,’ she began in a rushed way. ‘It’s very late. I think perhaps you should leave now, and .

She stopped. Hawthorne had taken her hand in his, and raised it to his lips. At exactly the moment she felt his breath against her skin, the telephone rang on her desk. She jerked her hand quickly away and turned. She stared at the telephone.

Hawthorne said, in an even voice, ‘I imagine that will be Pascal Lamartine, who is now some two and a half hours late collecting you. You’d better answer it, don’t you think?’

She crossed to the desk, and picked up the receiver. There was silence at the other end; she turned to face Hawthorne, still holding the receiver. He was watching her closely.

‘Pascal?’ she said, into the silence. The line crackled. Then she heard not Pascal’s, but another male voice, a familiar voice. ‘Gini,’ it whispered. ‘Gini, is it youT

She caught her breath. She felt the blood drain from her face. She realized that she was afraid, suddenly very afraid, of both these men, the one who had just kissed her hand, and the one who whispered his secret wishes in her ear. Were they alike in those wishes, or not? She froze, staring at Hawthorne. The voice whispered on. Hawthorne frowned. He moved closer, then closer still. His eyes never once left her face. When he was two feet away from her, then one foot, she knew he could hear the whispers too. She saw those scratchy obscenities register in his eyes. He showed little surprise, but she saw his mouth tighten with anger. He listened for a moment or two, then held out his hand.

‘Give it to me, Gini/ he said.

She handed him the receiver. He listened a moment more, then said in his clipped, cold, East Coast voice, ‘Is this call being monitored? Do you know who this isT

There was a silence. The whispering stopped.

‘You call again, and you’ll regret it. You’ve got thatT His face was now wiped of any emotion. Reaching around her, he replaced the receiver with a click.

He moved back, so he was directly in front of her once more, and Gini was backed up against her desk. He looked down into her face, and when she looked into his eyes, she could see anger in them, way back, like burning ice.

‘Has that happened beforeT ‘Yes.’

When? Since when have you been getting calls like thatT ‘This week. I forget when they started. Tuesday. No, Monday. The day I got back from Venice-2

She broke off. That word, and that admission, had been made before she had time to think, when all she was conscious of was Hawthorne’s proximity, and the pressure behind her of the edge of her desk. She saw it register in his eyes the second she said it. She crimsoned. Hawthorne gave a small sigh. She felt his whole body relax.

‘Gini, Gini/ he said, in a low voice, half-amused, half-sad. ‘I know you went there. I know why. It doesn’t matter. just trust me a little. A few more days. If you’d only do that. I . He broke off. ‘Don’t believe all the lies. Dear God .

He lifted his hand, and touched her hair. ‘You have amazing hair, such beautiful hair, Gini, and Gini, when I look at you-‘

‘Don’t.’ She put her hands between them, and tried to push him back, but he pressed closer against her then, his hand grasping the nape of her neck, so her face was turned up to his.

‘You mean that?’ he said. ‘You’re sure you mean it? Gini, look at me. No, don’t turn your face away. Yes. Like that.’

Gini became absolutely still. She looked up into his face. He was breathing more rapidly now, and she knew he was aroused. That made her very afraid. There was some desperation deep in his eyes, and a new urgency in the way he held her. He began to speak, then stopped, then began again in a low voice. He took her hand in his.

‘This is what you do to me … You must know. It happened the first time I ever set eyes on you - and it shocked me then. It happened again, the other night, at Mary’s. What were we talking about then? I can’t even remember what we were talking about. I knew exactly why you were there and even that made no difference. A whole room full of other people made no difference. Tonight - when your father went to hit you. We’re alike. We’re kin. I know you can feel it. I can see it in your eyes. This is what they say to me - and this.’

He gripped her hand tight, and pressed it against his chest. She felt the beat of his heart through her fingertips. Then he gripped her more tightly still, and drew her hand down between their bodies. His penis was erect. He shuddered as he made her touch him.

‘Gini, listen to me. Look at me .

He began to press her harder, back against the desk. Gini struggled to free her hands. She wrenched her face away.

‘Stop this,’ she said. ‘That isn’t true. Get away from me. Stop this now.

‘Look at me and say that. You can’t . he said, but when she turned her face, he bent and kissed hard on her lips. He pushed her back; he groaned, and began to caress her breasts. Gini gave a cry; he drew back just a little, and she saw his face change, become both urgent and triumphant. He twisted her arm behind her back and bent her against the desk, bearing down with his full weight so he half-straddled her, and his erection thrust against her crotch. He pulled her blouse open, ripping it. She felt the shock of his hand on her skin. His hand closed around her breast.

‘Don’t speak. Stop struggling. Darling - don’t … ‘ He caught her hand, as she raised it to push him back. Then he was half-lifting her, one hand easing up her skirt. He pushed her down and back against the desk-top. He pushed her thighs apart, jerking her body up against his penis. Then he crushed her against him, caught her by the hair, forced her head back. She cried out again, and he pressed his mouth against hers, and pushed his tongue between her lips.

He was very strong, and these moves were swift. There was no hesitation, no suggestion that she might find his actions unwelcome or would resist. Gini fought to free her hands which were now trapped between their bodies. The pressure of his mouth was painful, and the more she struggled, the harder that pressure was. She let her body go limp, and he responded at once to that.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Darling, Christ, yes … ‘

He began to kiss her throat in a frantic way. Gini freed her hands. She waited; she tensed; she thought: When he lifts his head … ‘You have the most beautiful mouth/ he was saying. ‘Such lovely breasts .

He moved his head lower. His hands were now gripping her waist, arching her back under him. He began to kiss her breasts, more gently now, touching the nipple with his tongue and sucking it between his lips. First her right breast, then the left. A tremor ran

through his body. Gini waited, waited, then he straightened.

. His hands moved to the waistband of his trousers, and then when he was half-upright, urgent, looking down at her with a iblind concentration - she bunched her first. She swung her arm, and hit him with all her strength. The blow landed in the perfect place, just on the pressure point at the side of his neck. Hawthorne gave an exclamation of pain. He released her, and stepped back.

He recovered almost immediately. He stood there, his breath ming rapidly. A look of bewilderment, then anger, passed across s face.

‘I thought you understood/ he began. He took a step towards her. ‘Gini-‘

, 10h, I understood. I understood very well. You’ve been explainJng all evening - I see that.’

There was a silence. His face hardened. ‘Not clearly enough/ iiL-said. ‘Evidently.’

‘Look - will you just get out of here now? PleaseT

Gini was trying to refasten her blouse. Her hands were shaking, Od she was terrified he would see this.

‘You’re afraid … ‘

He was staring at her. Gini stared back. She saw comprehension ,begin in his face.

‘Your hands are shaking. I thought-! He took another step towards her. He lifted his hand, and Gini flinched. She put up er arm instinctively, to shield herself. Hawthorne stopped. His ‘face became set.

‘I see. I begin to understand. just what in God’s name have you been told about meT

‘Nothing more than you’ve just told me yourself. Right then.’ She gestured furiously at her desk. ‘If I’d had any doubts before, J don’t now. You’ve just shown me exactly what kind of man you are—2

1. ‘Have IT His voice had become very cold. ‘I was making love to you. At least, that’s what I thought.’

‘Making love? You call that making loveT She turned to face him. ‘You can’t have thought that. I was goddamn well trying to fight you off . .

‘Well, I expect some resistance/ he gave a slight smile, ‘in the circumstances. How long would it have continued, do you think?’ ‘Get out of here now.’ She took a step towards him. ‘And don’t he. You heard me - I asked you, I told you to Stop .

‘Ah, but did you mean itT

‘Yes and you damn well know I meant it.’

‘Then I apologize.’ He gave a small shrug and a cool assessing glance. ‘In that case, I must have misinterpreted the signals-2 ‘What signals?’ she said furiously. ‘I never gave you one signal

- not one.’

‘Are you sure about thatT

‘After what I’d heard about you? You think I give come-ons to men like you? Well, I don’t.’

There was a long silence. Hawthorne’s face had gone white. She saw her words register in his eyes like a slap in the face. He gave a sigh.

‘Whatever you’ve been told,’ he said, in a low tense voice, ‘it’s still possible. In this situation - - . ‘ He gestured at her, then at himself. ‘In this situation, almost anything is possible. Any extreme. Unfortunately. As I’ve learned to my cost.’

He turned away, and moved across to the door, then he paused and looked back at her. ‘I wasn’t lying to you earlier,’ he said. ‘In fact, I haven’t lied once since I set foot in this room - which is quite an achievement when you consider the situation. You, me