Tess Stimson - The Adultery Club (28 page)

hope in her eyes, and roll away from her, onto my back,

so that she won’t see the answering pity and incipient claustrophobia in mine. I thought she was smarter than that.

A beat later, and she’s astride me, hands guiding my

cock towards her, and I wonder if I imagined it after all.

And then, with infuriating inevitability, my mobile telephone

rings.

‘Emma, would you mind getting Simon Jailer on the

phone? I need to clarify a couple of points on the Wasserstein

case before Friday, and I know he’s tied up in Court

all day tomorrow.’

I go back into my office, glancing at my watch as I pick

up my briefcase. Nearly seven; I should get going as soon

as I’ve spoken to Counsel. I don’t want to leave Sara

sitting alone at Yuzo’s; tonight of all nights.

This time tomorrow it will all be over. I know this is

my choice, it’s what I planned all along; but it’s going to

be harder to say goodbye than I thought.

I take out the glossy bag containing my farewell gifts

to Sara from my desk drawer, and flip open my briefcase.

As I slip it in between a legal file and my newspaper,

unable to suppress a shiver of erotic anticipation, my

office door opens and I shut the briefcase quickly, not wanting Emma to see.

But it isn’t Emma standing in the doorway.

Saying no to my wife’s invitation wasn’t an option. Not

only was I wrong-footed by her improbable materialization

in my office, barely able to summon the wit to

utter her name, never mind fabricate a plausible excuse to

flee; but the searing guilt which I have successfully banished

from my mind these past few weeks is now rising

up a thousandfold stronger for its exile.

I have no idea what will happen in the next twenty

minutes; nor any control over it. In some ways this

enforced abdication of responsibility is almost a relief.

Perhaps Sara will betray me: inadvertently or by choice,

a woman scorned. Maybe Mai will guess the moment

she sees my colleague sitting in my favourite restaurant,

which has, of late, acquired some of the less pleasing

characteristics of Piccadilly Circus. If I am truly fortunate,

this noisome taxi will disappear down an abyss in the

road and swallow me whole.

Clammy and sick with fear, I try to imagine a life

without my wife and daughters in it, and fail utterly.

I cannot even meet Sara’s eyes when my wife rushes

over to greet her - dear Christ, did she have to comment

on the bloody bracelet? - and grip the back of the nearest

chair as Mai chatters relentlessly.

It seems Sara has more presence of mind than I could

ever have anticipated. Within moments, she has confected

some excuse and vanished.

‘Well, she seems very keen Mai says brightly, shaking

out her napkin. ‘How lovely.’

Nausea rises. ‘Can we order, please, Mai?’ I say

desperately.

I can barely concentrate on a word she says as we

plough through the meal. Dear God, how am I going to

unravel this unholy mess? I cannot believe that I, of all

people, have managed to get myself into such a foolhardy,

melodramatic position. Dammit, I was going to

end it tomorrow! Mai seems blissfully unaware; but the

possibility still exists that Sara will be so incensed by

what can only seem to her as my betrayal, that she seeks

revenge by confronting my wife. The hurt that would

inflict on Mai doesn’t bear contemplating. And my girls.

How can I ever look them in the eye again if they find out what I’ve done? I have been seven types of idiot, led by my genitals like a schoolboy. Christ Jesus, let me

walk away from this unscathed and I swear to God, I will never-‘—So go on, don’t keep me in suspense.’

I startle. ‘Sorry?’

‘Oh, Nicholas, don’t be mean, you know I saw you put

it in your briefcase,’ Mai teases, ‘and I just can’t wait any

longer, I’m dying for my present, please can I have it now?’

This unedifying, shameful farce is clearly destined to

play itself out to the bitter end. I reach beneath the table

for my briefcase.

I’m sorry. I - um -1 didn’t get you a card.’

‘Oh, Nicholas. As if that matters.’

She opens the bag and unwraps the underwear I

selected for another woman. I feel sick with shame as she

innocently holds the wisps of silk and lace up against

herself, ‘Oh, how beautifull Do you like them?’

‘Of course I mutter. ‘I wouldn’t have bought them

otherwise.’

‘I can tell it’s been a while she laughs, examining the

label. ‘These are two sizes too big, I’ll have to take them

back and exchange them. You kept the receipt, didn’t

you?’ She peers back into the bag and gasps. ‘Oh, Nicholas.

You didn’t—’

Please don’t notice that these match the bracelet Sara was

wearing, please don’t put two and two together, please be your

usual sweet, trusting, innocent self.

‘Nicholas she breathes, gazing at the earrings.

‘They’re exquisite. I don’t know what to say.’

And suddenly, in a moment, the fog lifts. Non pote non sapere qui se stultum intellegit: a man must have some wit to know he is a fool.

I love Mai; I always have. From the moment I first met

her, I’ve known she’s The One. She’s my dearest friend,

my love, the mother of my children. There is a sweetness

to her, a purity of heart and spirit, that I have never

known in anyone else. And she loves me; far more than I

deserve. I know she would never contemplate betraying

me; her loyalty and fidelity are absolute. How can I have

risked all of this for what amounts to no more than a

glorified roll in the hay?

‘Happy Valentine’s Day I tell my wife; meaning it.

Later that night, after Mai and I have made love for the

first time since I slept with Sara - not the roller-coaster

of eroticism that it is with Sara, granted, but laced with a

love and gentleness I can only ever find with my wife

we make plans for a romantic break in Cornwall, where

we honeymooned; we build castles in the air and articulate

our dreams for our children, for ourselves. I fall asleep

with my head in the curve of her arm, and promise from

the depths of my soul that it will all be different from now

on.

For four days, Sara manages to avoid being alone with me

for a single moment with the same expertise with which I

once evaded her.

She whisks in and out of my office with armfuls of

files, careful to make sure that Emma is within earshot

before doing so. Christ knows how her bladder is holding

up; I’ve stationed myself outside the women’s toilet for

hours without glimpsing her. Much as I’d be happy to

play ostrich with her, I know we can’t bury our heads in

the sand forever; I need to end this liaison cleanly, and

with as little acrimony as possible. I have to explain, for

my own peace of mind; and to somehow find the right

moment to discuss a very good job opening at Falkners

Penn for a young, ambitious lawyer keen to make partner

before she’s thirty.

I have to be certain she’s not going to betray me.

My chance comes on Friday, when Emma’s sister unexpectedly

arrives from Worcester, and she begs for an

unscheduled afternoon off.

Joan and David are out of the office; a secretarial

leaving party has decimated the remainder of the staff. I

give the one temp on duty a free pass, and she scuttles

off, delighted, to join her colleagues across the road.

Sara looks startled as I walk into the conference room,

and instantly leaps up from the table. ‘I just have to get

this FDR statement to Emma—’

‘She’s not here. She’s taken the afternoon off to go

shopping with her sister.’

‘Perhaps one of the other girls—’

‘They’re all at Milagro’s for Jenny’s leaving party. Sara

I put out a hand to detain her, 1 need to explain.’

She stiffens.

‘I don’t think that’s necessary.’

‘I know this must be hard to believe, but I had no idea

she was going to turn up until she appeared in my office. I swear it. I wouldn’t do that to you; you must know that.

I didn’t have a chance to phone you, she was with me the

whole time, and then she insisted on Yuzo’s - Christ,

what are the odds—’

‘Quite high, I should imagine, when you declare your

preference to the world in the Lawyer,’ Sara says acidly.

‘But I really had no idea she—’

‘Nicholas, please. I think we both know the situation.

You’re a married man; I knew that from the beginning.

There’s really no need to rake things over any more. We

had a good time, but we knew all along it had to end

sooner or later. At least this way no one’s got hurt.’

Her eyes are suspiciously bright. I brush my thumbs

beneath them. ‘Haven’t they?’

I sought her out with the most honest of intentions. I

truly meant for this to be a tying up of loose ends.

But that touch is all it takes. A fire ignites between us;

my cock is rock-hard in an instant, and as Sara’s eyelids

flutter, I smell her arousal. Gripping her face between my

iM

palms, I bruise her lips beneath mine. I taste the metallic

tang of blood and don’t know which of us is cut.

She yanks my shirt out of my trousers as I propel her

backwards towards the glossy mahogany conference table

and shove her skirt up over her thighs. She fumbles with

my belt buckle. Buttons plink across the table as I rip open

her shirt. I push aside her panties with fierce fingers. In a

moment I’m inside her, forcing her down onto the surface

of the table, frantic and angry and hot with desire. My

mouth descends on one cinnamon nipple, biting it roughly

through the flimsy fabric of her bra. There’s a crash as her

heap of files tumbles from the table to the floor.

Her legs curl around my waist, and I drive my cock

deeper into her. She pulls my shirt free from my shoulders

as I unhook her bra; our skin hisses as it hits. She smells

of vanilla and sweat and peppermint and sex. Her ripe

breasts splay lushly either side of her breastbone, eddying

with every violent thrust. Throwing back her head, a

guttural growl vibrates low in her throat, her sharp white

teeth biting down on her swollen lower lip. Her nails dig

deep into my shoulder blades and I flinch don’t leave marks and then oh God oh God oh God-She comes a moment later, her body jerking so hard

that her spine thumps against the table. I feel her juices

flood us both and it’s almost enough to get me hard again.

‘Oh, Christ, I’ve peed myself—’

‘No. You just came. You know. Ejaculated.’

She laughs disbelievingly. ‘Fuck off.’

I pull out of her and yank up my trousers. ‘You’ve

dime it before. Not many women do it, but those that can

- (‘nun. You have no idea how erotic it is.’

‘Are you kidding me?’

‘Would I joke about something like that?’

‘You tell me.’ She sits up on the table and pulls down

her skirt. ‘Shit, you’ve ripped half the buttons off my blouse. You couldn’t have just waited a moment and undone them, could you?’

‘Could you?’

Her expression is dark and hot. ‘No.’

‘It’s not over, is it?’ I whisper, cupping her breast in

my hand and pulling her buttocks towards me with the

other. ‘Between us.’

Her nipple stiffens instantly. My cock is already halfway

to being ready for her once more. I drop to my knees

and spread her legs as she sits on the edge of the table,

burying my face in her wet pussy.

‘We haven’t even started,’ she groans.

My mother had a saying: No one misses a slice of cut cake. She meant that the first cut is the one you notice. After that, the difference is much harder to see.

The first night I slept with Sara, I was tormented with

guilt. Each subsequent liaison has compounded the

betrayal; but somehow, where once guilt blistered my

skin and rubbed my soul raw, now it merely chafes like

an ill-fitting shoe.

If I’m honest: all I care about now is not getting caught.

‘You can’t mark me again I whisper, stroking Sara’s

bare shoulder as we lie in the darkness of her bedroom,

both of us spent. I can’t afford Claridge’s on a long-term

basis; we have no choice now but to use her flat, whatever

the risk. ‘After the conference room, I had to get up half

an hour earlier for a week so that I could finish showering

before Mai was awake.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose.’

‘I know. But we have to be careful—’

‘Enough, already Sara says tightly. She leans over me

to pick up her cigarettes from the bedside table. ‘What do

you want me to do, wear surgical gloves?’

‘I wish you wouldn’t do that. Smoke. It’s not like you

smoke the rest of the time; I hate that you do it in bed.’

‘So let’s stick to having sex in the great outdoors.’

‘Now you sound like a petulant child.’

‘So stop talking to me like one!’

She swings her legs out of bed and stalks naked