SEVEN DAYS (17 page)

Guests in the bar/restaurant were amused by the newcomers and welcomed them as if they were guests of honour. Bernard went straight to the bar and ordered drinks for himself and whoever else needs one as much as him.

The venue might have been described as Gothic. Rock chick was the only person who looked right at home. Like the space below, the walls were red and black, with spotlights set into the floor and ceiling at strategic points to create an almost mystical ambience.

A few drinks got everyone into a relaxed, party spirit and there was a lot of laughter and sharing of histories and experiences, and motivations for being on this course. Of course everybody wanted to create, but everybody also seemed to be looking for a change. In one way or another, whatever they were doing wasn't working and they hoped to find a new path through life, to reinvent themselves, find themselves.

Later, Judy spotted Mark moving around the room, encouraging people to share their stories, the more personal the better, always with a half smile on his face so one couldn’t be certain whether he was joking or not. She overheard him saying that he wanted them to get to the heart of things, reminding them that they had done small talk on the bus and now it was time for playing with ideas.

Accordingly, they shared openly and Judy found that in fact there was little need for more alcohol to loosen up. Her mask made her feel impervious to embarrassment. It was a beautiful, liberating experience. To talk honestly and openly and to not be afraid.

The feeling lasted until Mark made his way over to her and she broke away from the small group she was with in order to collar him.

“You've made me wait long enough,” she said. “Mark fucking Nightingale.”

“We meet again,” he whispered.

“Why didn't you tell me you were running this course?”

“I'm done with explaining myself to you,” he said, surprising her. “The first time, you walked out on me. The second time, you left me standing on your doorstep. The third time, you threw me out.”

“I didn't throw you,” she said. “I would have called you but I don't have your number.”

“You didn't allow me time to give it to you.”

“True,” she admitted. “I'm sorry.”

“Me too,” he said.

“Guilt trip over?”

“Not even close.”

“You’re going to make me pay?”

“Damn right.”

“And when I’ve paid, what do I get?”

She licked her lips behind the mask and he saw the gesture through the mouth hole. It elicited a smile from him that was pronounced enough to move his mask. It looked as if he couldn’t stay mad at her for long. Perhaps he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“What else do you have in store for me?” Judy asked.

“You'll see.”

“One question, your Masked Magnificence,” said Judy. The alcohol had gone to her head. Her mask made her fearless.

“I don't like the way you say that,” Mark said. “Almost as if it was an ironic title. But go on, ask.”

“Were you on the judging panel? It's down to you that I'm here right?”

“Yes, I was on the judging panel,” Mark said. “If you'd read the application form properly you'd have seen my name on it. Mark. Nightingale. Just like I told you.”

“Yeah, I already apologised for that. What I want to know now is what you thought of my application?”

“You're here, aren't you?”

“My application was nonsense,” she said. “Having met me, you would have known that. When I wasn’t lying I was exaggerating.” She thought of him removing her self-portrait from the envelope and wondering what the hell it was. His reaction must have been a mix of bewilderment and amusement.

“Everybody exaggerates on their application,” Mark said. “It’s my job to read between the lines.”

 “You got me into the retreat because you feel sorry for me,” Judy said. “How’s that for reading between the lines?”

“Are you on crack?” Mark asked her.

“No,” Judy said. “I just don't need your pity.”

“No,” Mark agreed. “You need your head examined. Don't drink any more. You'll regret it.”

“I already have regrets,” Judy said. “I wish I hadn’t come.”

Her words almost felled him.

He leaned forward to look at her closely. Judy wanted to slap the stupid mask from his face. Couldn't they take them off for a few minutes so they could have a sensible conversation?

Mark said: “Maybe the mask wasn't a good idea for you after all. Where did you go, Judy?”

“You don't know me as well as you think you do,” she said.

“I need a chance,” Mark said.

“You know what?” she said. “I'm starting to think that you arranged all of this. The gallery, the keys, getting me on the course. You planted that flyer. You knew we were going to end up here like this.”

He was silent for some time and she thought that she had caught him out, but in fact he was laughing at her.

“All these defences,” he said. “Let them go.”

“Stop laughing.”

“Life is complicated,” he admitted. “And so are you.”

“I'm not interested in your observations,” Judy told him.

“That's a shame,” Mark said, “because I'm your tutor for the week. You're paying me for my observations.”

“That is a shame, because there's nothing someone like you can teach me.”

“Yeah, there is,” Mark said.

“What?” Judy said, defiant.

“When to admit that you're wrong,” Mark said. “And when to walk away.”

With that, he walked away.

She felt humiliated and unsatisfied. That hadn't gone the way she had thought it would at all. She'd been looking forward to talking to him all evening, but her mouth had got in the way.

Before she knew it, she ended up at the bar. She pointed to the bottle of absinthe, insisting in  no uncertain terms that the barman serve her and keep them coming. The guy behind the bar seemed to respect the people in masks. They always got served first, even if all they did was point and mispronounce the names of things.

This was how she ended up drinking more than she ate. It was not long before she was sitting on a stool and holding onto the bar as though it was moving.

Behind her, the evening's entertainment continued with an impromptu karaoke set.

“Oh God, I hate karaoke,” she said to no-one in particular. Nobody was listening. The group, of which she was clearly no longer a part, was having a great time. Even Bernard was laughing and was ultimately dragged up onto a makeshift stage to sing “My Way”, which he did with great gusto, receiving a standing ovation.

Standing proved difficult for Judy, but she slid unsteadily from her stool when she saw Mark slipping away from the party and heading downstairs.

She practically chased him down, clomping unsteadily away from the bar, giving the dance floor a wide berth and then pursuing him on the stairs.

In the open space below, a cool breeze blew in from the open side. The area was unmanned. Thinking that he was alone, Mark went behind the counter and into what appeared to be a cloakroom.

Judy slid in after him.

He was just standing there. He didn’t appear to be looking for a jacket or anything.

“I’ve decided that—” she managed to say before he turned and shhed her.

“Stop talking,” he whispered. He placed his hands on her shoulders, turned her and guided her backwards, deeper into the cloakroom. Moving backwards was quite a challenge and she bumped into rows of jackets and coats either side of her, making the hangers rattle.

When they reached the back wall, he pushed her up against it and then raised her mask halfway over her face. She gasped and was relieved that he didn’t remove it completely. She’d been wearing it all evening and was more attached to it than she realised. She was attached to the sense of daring it engendered in her.

He moved her mask enough to reveal her lips, which were wet and trembling and ready not only to be kissed now but to kiss.

“Take off your mask,” she told him.

He shook his head, but did the same as he had done for her, lifting it a few inches to reveal his mouth.

Their masks touched and clacked as their mouths pressed against each other. They both laughed, but they didn’t part. His hands were firm on her body, pinning her. Her fingers scratched at his waist and his chest, pulling him, tearing at him, in a frenzy to be nearer to him.

Above, the music continued blasting. Deep bass thrummed and vibrated the ceiling above them.

“Yes,” Judy said when Mark reached between her legs. He could be so subtle, but he was in no mood for games or delay and neither was she.

She hitched up her long skirt so he could put his hands against her skin. He shoved his hand into her knickers and felt her warmth and wetness. She grabbed his wrist and held him there, dictated the timing of his fingers.

There were footsteps outside. Without a word, they sank to the ground, still kissing, but gently now, sensitive to each other’s movements. He undid Judy’s remaining buttons and kissed her breasts.

She was frightened to discover how much she had missed him. There was nothing in the world that compared to this. As much as she sought intellectual stimulation, it was so much the better when it culminated in Mark’s body against hers. As much as she was able to entertain, amuse and even pleasure herself, her body and mind paled in significance compared to the power Mark held over her.

She bit her lip, resisting the urge to tell him so. She’d drunk too much. Perhaps she wouldn’t even be doing this if she was sober, but it felt so right. If drinking had got her here then so be it. She was going to enjoy it and think about the consequences in the morning.

Mark knelt before Judy and she bent to free his cock from his jeans. She stroked him, enjoying the warmth of his shaft in her hand. The weight of him. The smell of him. She licked the tip of his cock and he shuddered.

She licked him hungrily as though catching drips from a melting ice cream cone. His hands balled into fists and he stifled groans so that they would not be discovered.

“That’s so good,” he whispered into her ear, which spurred her on to take his cock fully into her mouth, spreading her lips wide to encompass him. She was able to take just over half of his length into her mouth, the tip of his penis making her gag when she tried to take him further into her.

Mark told her to stop.

“You don’t mean that,” Judy said.

“Of course not,” Mark said.

“I want you to come,” Judy whispered, tugging at his cock and sucking at the same time now. She made sure that her lips were very wet. She let her mouth water and used her saliva to keep his cock slick.

Mark’s body tensed and she tightened her lips around his shaft as he came into her mouth, squirting into the back of her throat, layering her tongue. He could barely prevent himself from groaning then. She felt his abs beneath his shirt, tensing as he orgasmed.

She sat back and wiped her lips to catch a drip, then sucked her finger meticulously, not wanting to lose any of his cum, wanting him to see, wanting him to know.

Bells rang outside to mark the midnight hour and the music coming from above faded at the same time.