When the Siren Calls (4 page)

Even when his group settled down and struck up conversation across the two tables, merging the parties into one, he remained elusive, sitting at the furthest point away from her. Growing impatient, Lucy loudly excused herself to the bathroom and meandered her way towards the door, choosing a strategic route that took her between the man and one of his captivated courtiers. The gap was a narrow one and the man held his position, forcing Lucy to turn sideways to pass through, her crotch all but brushing his nose as she tried to make her way out. But he stopped her with a friendly hand on her thigh and, averting his eyes from the short skirt looked her straight in the eyes, grinned, and said, “It’s all looking a bit tight isn’t it?”

“Tighter than you might think,” she replied, before making her way through to the bathroom.

Lucy lingered in the toilets at her leisure, reapplying makeup and fiddling with her hair as she contemplated what now inevitably lay before her. She could still feel his touch on her thigh and, imagining his hand sliding up under her skirt, wedding ring and luxury timepiece in close proximity against her skin, she left to claim what she hungered for.

Over the next hour the group was fluid, with people moving chairs as others came and went from the bar or the bathroom. The man, whose name she discovered to be Jay, remained elusive but Eamon — acting on his personal motto that ‘faint heart never won fuck all’ — eventually secured himself the seat next to her. He showered her with enraptured attention, stroking her crossed legs as he plied her with compliments and innuendos.

Lucy’s concern was not the progress that Eamon’s wandering hand was seeking to make on her anatomy, but the progress Georgia — her glamorous and worldly supervisor — was making a few feet away. She was probably close to Jay’s age, and to Lucy’s eye well enough preserved to merit the interest of even a discerning suitor. Worryingly, her advances seemed to be welcome and Lucy, powerless to intervene, had to resign herself to waiting for her superior to need the restroom.

Time passed with all the speed of a dull sermon but eventually, just when Lucy was concluding that Georgia must have the bladder of a bison, her rival took her turn to excuse herself.

“Don’t go away now, will you,” she instructed in her most seductive tone, before reinforcing her intention by placing her jacket over the back of the chair. But such signals were null and void in Lucy’s world and with a seductive smile she turned to Jay, twisting her pole dancer’s body with a graceful ease that threatened to make the most staunch and devoted husband want to rip off her clothes and devour her supple flesh.

“Oh Jay, while you have a second, you were talking earlier about your holiday in the Seychelles,” she began, locking his eyes in a smouldering stare that said ‘I don’t need to introduce myself, because you’ve asked who I am already.’

“Maybe you could send me the details, if you still have them?”

“Sure,” said Jay with a casual air, as if he had been expecting just such an enquiry, “I’d be pleased to. Do you have maybe an email address or something?”

Lucy reached down to the bag beside her chair, and took out her phone and her room key to search for a paper and pen.

“Here, put your email on this if it’s easier,” suggested Jay, offering his business card and his gold-tipped Mont Blanc ballpoint.

Lucy examined the pen with admiration. The movements of her fingers were deft and precise but languid, exuding raw sensuality. She scribbled on the card and handed it and the pen back to its owner, before turning back to reengage Eamon, the shrug of her shoulders deeming complete the tiresome chore of giving her email.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he replaced the pen and turned over the card, expecting to see an email address. Instead there were just two words:

“I’m Wet.”Five

As the cab pulled into Berkeley Square, Jay was chuckling. Lucy’s latest photo message was on his screen, and it was x-rated material. He smiled as he wondered how she managed to get the blindfold and handcuffs on before the auto flash clicked. But then again with Lucy it was hard to tell; perhaps another girl was on the other side of the camera. If so, maybe he would be meeting her before long too. It was just a week since they met, and his aching body was already begging for respite from Lucy’s voracious appetite. Tonight he was guaranteed that respite, at least from Lucy.

One floor below ground, with no natural light and scant attempt to replace it, Annabel’s might have been designed for infidelity. It was a Tuesday evening and still early for the club’s well-heeled and wellconnected members. Jay and Andy, an old friend from university, had the Buddha Room — a sumptuously dressed, lounge-sized sanctuary, tucked away — all to themselves.

The two men spent dinner tentatively reminiscing over their exploits in their college days, cheerfully conversing as each tried to ascertain exactly what it was the other wanted. Back then the two were thrown together as flatmates and, as Jay was keen to remind him, Andy had been the studious nerd heading for a first class honours in computer science, and Jay was the slacker and all round cool guy heading for an attendance certificate. But an underhand and carefully executed deal between the two changed both their fates forever. Andy sold his brains for the tempting fruits of popularity, doing all of his friend’s coursework in exchange for an acquaintance with the beautiful Simone — who took his virginity with all the care and mercy she could muster. Jay, in turn, surprised even his most ardent admirers, amongst whose ranks he could count several professors, and graduated with an upper second in economics and law. And now, nearly two decades later, reflected back in the large mirror opposite them they saw a big city dealmaker and a dot com millionaire — looking older but very much the same.

When they had exhausted their college anecdotes they moved carefully on to the present, starting with their spouses. “So you really hit the jackpot with Kate, didn’t you?” said Jay, leaning back and spreading his arms.

“You’ve met Kate?” Andy asked in response, suspicion and a hint of dread clear in his voice. Jay wondered if his abrupt and unprecedented invitation caused Andy — with some justification — to worry this meeting might be in relation to his young socialite wife.

He laughed. “No, it is just that I saw the pictures in Tatler. She’s quite a stunner.”

“And that’s what prompted the invitation?”

“Kind of, yes. It did remind me of the times we had together and that, frankly, the day might come when there might be something we could do together, that’s all. But that’s for another time, how about tonight we just enjoy ourselves?”

Jay sensed his friend was not quite ready to give up with his probing and moments later Andy began again.

“So there’s nothing particular you are spending your time on right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it,” said Jay, leaning forward, “right now I am spending a good deal of time in Italy, in Tuscany. It’s a struggling tourist development. Quick in and quick out and a twenty to fifty million return on a modest investment. It’s something I’ve conceived myself. My vision is for a five star luxury resort. There will be a boutique hotel at the centre, a spa, and one hundred condos owned by private buyers. It will be my job to turn the place around and complete the development.”

“If you can only find the money?”

Jay laughed again. “You don’t give up, do you? It’s not a pitch, Andy — the financing is in place. I’m just sorting out the negotiations with the party in Italy. If we’d met up two months ago then there might have been a chance to do something together, and I really would have welcomed you in on the deal, but the investment window is now closed.”

Jay watched his friend’s eyes wander to the two elegantly dressed platinum blondes who had just materialised at the bar, looking over their shoulders and swiftly back at each other, the studied movement of their bodies inviting attention and approach.

“When you say enjoy ourselves, did you have those two in mind?” Andy asked with the same look of expectation that Jay elicited from him all those years ago.

Jay ran his eye over the two arrivals. “Gold diggers with six inch claws. Russians probably. You’ll enjoy the night, but you could still be paying for it in ten years. If you do want some fun without any complications, this is not the place.”

“But you know the place?”

Jay looked at his watch and discreetly rubbed a smidgen of lipstick off it with his thumb. “I think I just might.”

A short taxi ride later and they drew to a halt outside a row of black railings in a side street off the Bayswater Road.

“A fun place I think you’ll like,” said Jay as he led them down a dark and inconspicuous flight of stairs to an unremarkable door with nothing to recommend it but a video entry phone. A cursory glance at the screen convinced the woman at the other end to let them in and Jay headed through the door, discreetly beckoning his friend to follow him. They made their way along a dimly lit passageway until a pumpkin of a woman in a flowing red dress, who seemed to fill the space like a London bus, firm and unassailable, blocked their progress. Jay leant forward and the two exchanged kisses to both cheeks, her body rigid and unmoving with one hand braced against the wall.

“Eva, this is Andy,” said Jay. “He’s a very dear friend of mine.”

Andy stood to attention as if presenting himself for inspection before the school matron, aware he was being minutely assessed as her beady and heavy-lidded eyes ran over him like cold water. She nodded and turned without a word, opening a double locked door to reveal an expansive lounge area, devoid of windows and bathed in low-level mood lighting.

Andy took in the scene. A bar area, stools set around a dark wooden counter topped in an iridescent marble, was directly ahead of him and all around it sat beautiful young women, the light scattering upon the surface of the marble and creating strange symbols of shadow on their exposed skin. More sat in darker corners, lounging on sofas or draped over businessmen; they had smiles on their faces and eyes fixed on the new arrivals. Andy fancied their gazes lingered particularly long on him and he suppressed the tremble that longed to course through his body.

“This is what I think it is?” he asked, as Eva directed them towards one of the sofas.

“Relax,” said Jay, “it’s whatever we want it to be. There’s no pressure. We can go or stay, but as we are here, how about a drink, a gin and tonic be ok?” he asked, gesturing for Eva’s compliance whilst guiding Andy onto an empty sofa.

“Guess so,” said Andy, the shrug of his shoulders far exaggerating the few remaining reservations that desire had not forced from his mind as he followed Eva’s progress to the bar, the girls before her parting like silken curtains but returning to the same places and making no move to engage their new guests. Eva returned with a litre bottle of gin and two token bottles of tonic. Befitting an establishment that charged three hundred pounds for a bottle of spirits, an ashtray-sized silver platter of nuts and a terracotta bowl of olives accompanied the drinks. She poured the gin over the ice until the long glasses were almost full, leaving the tonic to their discretion. But the flow of liquor over ice did not long hold his attention as a slinking shadow at the doorway materialised into a woman more mesmerising than Andy had ever seen before.

He did not see her face, though it was an attractive one, but only the roundness of her ample derriere, the length of her smooth dark legs, and the irresistible line of her breasts against the clinging white fabric of her dress. Taking a long draught of his gin he returned his attention to Jay, now unsure of everything.

“The thing you mentioned in Tuscany,” he said, “is the sort of thing that I might be interested in. Something you can feel and touch.”

Not to mention the twenty to fifty million, thought Jay, remembering the involuntary glint in Andy’s eye earlier. “It doesn’t come more tangible than bricks and mortar, that’s for sure,” said Jay, a smile playing upon his lips as the white-clad vixen descended upon them.

“Hi,” said the girl, her eyes fixed upon Andy, “my name is Britta, I am from the Czech Republic.” She took a seat beside him, asking, “It is ok if I join you?” but without need for an answer. As she sank down into the cool leather, pressing against Andy’s side as she shunned the available space, another girl, a brunette with a wanton smile and long tanned limbs, settled next to Jay as she leaned in to mouth her name. Eva returned with an offer of champagne and left smiling, averting her eyes with skill and precision from the beginnings of debauchery all about her.

Britta’s soft left hand was fast causing Andy to forget the ring on his own as it stroked and caressed his neck, across his shoulders, down the front of his shirt, down, down to his trousers.

“Why you so tense,” enquired Britta. “Your first time maybe?” she ventured, laughing at her own joke as she twiddled his wedding ring and pulled gently at his neck, pushing herself up and swinging herself onto his lap, revealing a glimpse of scarlet mesh panties against smooth brown skin.

Leaning forward, she whispered, “Britta help you relax, no?” pushing her breasts into his face, her perfume filling his nostrils and stirring his loins. Feeling hardness beneath her, she began to gyrate against him as she looked into his eyes with convincing excitement. He moved his hands, limp with pleasure at his sides, onto her knees and slid them up her thighs, reaching the tantalising scarlet and pulling it aside with his thumb. The girls that before kept him under close observation were no longer looking his way and he wondered just how far things might go on the sofa when Britta answered his unspoken question, and brought matters to a head.