The Kindest Thing - страница 8

The bed, in a dark wooden frame, squealed as I sat back on it and eased off my rucksack. I used the bathroom; the water stuttered out of the tap as though it hadn’t been used for a while. I’d caught the sun already, my nose and forehead bright. While Neil had a wash, I went out on to the balcony. The sea was close: I could hear the crashing sound of waves and just make out the water’s edge.

Neil came out of the bathroom.

‘I’m ravenous,’ I told him, as I walked back in. He switched the light off. It was very dark. He cupped his hand round my neck and then walked me back until we reached the wall. The plaster was cool on my arms. His breathing, harsh and eager, mingled with the noise of the surf outside. He kissed me and then he fucked me, gripping the fabric of my skirt in bunches at my hips, his jeans puddled round his feet. I was ridiculously, sentimentally happy. I must remember this, I told myself, whatever happens. I must remember. He gasped when he came.

‘Now take me out and feed me,’ I whispered.

‘Okay.’ He kissed the top of my head. ‘Then I’ll fuck you again.’

‘Promise?’

My solicitor, Ms Gleason, is here. She reminds me what the procedure will be in court today, what is likely to happen. It’s hard to concentrate. Several times I find I’m agreeing with her and have no idea what she has been saying. It reminds me of a dream I have – they’re quite common, most people dream something similar. In my version I am on stage and the curtain is about to go up and I have forgotten to learn my lines. I don’t even know what the play is but I have a very big part and there is no time to find my script. It feels exactly like that as we wait for the usher to call us. And I know there’s no waking up from it.

The weeks of our Greek idyll passed in a daze of cheap local wine, fresh food, hot sun and sex. We were both constantly aroused. I was on the pill so we had no need of condoms. Those happy days before AIDS came stalking.

We travelled to Crete and went to Knossos, King Minos’s palace; Neil told me all about the legend of the Minotaur. The site was vast, impressive, but what captivated me was the frieze of the dolphins, the vibrant colour, the energy in it, and the mosaic floors made of thousands of tiny tesserae, I loved the sophistication and elegance of the images, the harmony of composition.

We sailed to Rhodes, entering the harbour where the Colossus once stood. On the island of Kos we got the bus up to the Asclepeion, the first hospital in the world, built on wooded terraces. The place had an atmosphere of peace and tranquillity that not even the clusters of tourists could disrupt. Down in Kos town we sat beneath the plane tree where Hippocrates was said to have taught his principles of healing. Neil filled my head with stories of Greek gods and monsters and heroes. I came to share his fascination with the myths and legends.

Between our excursions to ancient sites we would walk up into the hills where the air was thick with the scent of pine resin and sizzled with the chirrups of crickets and the hum of bees. He would put his hand round the nape of my neck, a gesture that had surprised me at first but by then had become familiar, comforting. He would catch my neck and pull me close for a kiss or hold me like that as we strolled along. I was a head shorter than him.

‘Deborah.’ He’d stop me, circle my waist with his arm and steer me to a tree, the place dappled with shade and insects flittering in the golden pools of light. To the sound of cowbells in the distance, he would make love to me. His passion for me, his appetite, fed mine and the lust showed no signs of abating. On the beach, reading, swimming, roasting in the heat that softened my muscles and darkened my skin, my thoughts turned repeatedly to sex. Remembering what we had just done and what we might do next. Soon I would turn to him and whisper filthy words and sweet entreaties, teasing him until one or other of us caved in, stood, hand shading our eyes, and said, ‘Let’s go back for a bit.’