Twenty five
Lana Bloom
While we are having dinner on the balcony I say, ‘We’ve been invited to a party tomorrow. Do you want to go?’
Blake looks at me strangely. ‘It’s my birthday tomorrow.’
‘Oh,’ I exclaim, surprised. ‘You never said anything.’
‘No, it’s not something I am looking forward to.’
‘You will be thirty.’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want to come to the party then?’
‘I can’t. My family is flying over to be with me. They’ve arranged something for me in a hotel. It will be insufferably boring, I’m sure, but I am obliged to attend.’
“Of course, of course.’ I try my best not to show how his news has affected me. Was he never going to tell me? ‘I’ll just go to the party with Billie, then.’
Only this morning I tasted the name Lana Barrington on my tongue. The whisper is my secret. It felt right. Or as Billie would say, very fucking right. So I said it louder.
‘Lana Barrington.’ Daring the fates.
Mrs. Lana Barrington. Your husband has been delayed. Would you like to wait for him at the bar?
The fantasy was so perfect I wanted to cry. What a fool I have been. How on earth did I manage to fall in love with such a cold and heartless man, a banker for God’s sake?
‘Let Tom drive you there and back,’ he is saying.
‘It’s OK. I’ll just take a taxi.’
“I’ll feel better if Tom drives you, waits for you and brings you back.’
‘Will she be there?’
‘Yes,’ he says very quietly.
‘Well, that’s that then. I hope you have fun.’ My voice sounds high and too merry.
‘I won’t,’ he says, but that doesn’t soothe me one bit.
That was yesterday. Today I am in Billie’s bedroom wearing a pair of white shorts, a cut off, sleeveless, white T-shirt that leaves my midriff bare and white trainers.
‘Wow, you look seriously hot,’ Billie comments.
‘You don’t think it’s too slutty?’
‘Are you kidding? It’s white. You look like a wet dream. Besides, it’s Jerry’s party. It’s always full of working girls.’
Billie is wearing combat boots, a fur trimmed, green beret, and a clinging black cat-suit.
‘Well, you look very Miley Cyrus,’ I say.
‘Thanks. I was going for rock chick, but obviously I’m not ever going to say no to Miley,’ Billie replies with a grin. ‘Now get in front of the mirror.’
I sit on the edge of the bed and Billie picks up a curling iron and takes up position behind me. With meticulous care she begins to put corkscrew curls in my hair. She is concentrating so hard she does not speak, so I let my mind wander to Blake. I wonder about his world. So entirely different from mine. At a hotel, he said, careful not to mention the name of the hotel, as if he feared there was a possibility that I might turn up and embarrass him.
In a little while Leticia comes to join us. She is wearing a plain gray T-shirt, ripped jeans and a surly expression. Her hair is gelled to spikes around her head. She is a big, butch girl.
‘How’s it going, Let?’ I greet.
Leticia grunts moodily.
Suddenly, an image of Leticia tied spread eagle on her bed with a chocolate bar stuck between her legs pops into my head and I press my lips together to hide my amusement.
Leticia turns towards Billie. ‘You told her, didn’t you?’ she accuses.
Unfazed, Billie takes another small section of my hair and carefully coils it around the curling iron. ‘Be thankful I didn’t tell her what I did to you last night,’ she says, and crusty, cross Leticia squirms.
When we are ready, we walk over to Jerry’s place. It is such a warm evening we don’t even need coats.
The music is loud and there are many people there, but Billie, who is always the centre of any party, gets immediately pulled to the middle of the dance floor. When my mobile rings I almost do not hear it. I look at the screen. It is ten o’clock and it is Blake.
‘Hi,’ I say, but it is so loud it’s impossible to hear him. ‘Wait one moment,’ I yell and fight my way out of the crowd. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing. My party was rather flat, so I left. Can I come join you, after all?’
‘Of course.’ Suddenly my heart feels light and happy. He wants my company.
I am sitting on the stairs waiting for him when he arrives.
‘Where’s Tom?’
‘Sent him home.’
He locks his car and walks up to me. ‘What are you doing sitting here?’
‘Waiting for you.’
He turns to look at a group of youths. They are swearing loudly and holding beer cans. ‘It looks dangerous.’
I laugh. ‘I grew up here. I know those guys. They’re Jerry’s mates. If you want to score some coke, they’re the ones to go to.’
‘You don’t take drugs, do you?’
I laugh again. ‘No.’
He sits beside me, and takes a curly lock of hair in his hand. ‘What’s this?’
‘Billie did it. It’s not permanent.’
His hands move to the white shorts. ‘And this?’
‘I can hardly wear the fancy dresses you bought me here. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.’ I look at him hungrily: the man looks good enough to eat. A soft breeze teases his hair. I have a desire to flirt with him. ‘Don’t you like it, then?’
He looks at me expressionlessly, a master of disguise. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think yes.’
‘Go to the top of the class, Miss Bloom.’
I laugh.
He watches me closely. ‘I don’t think I have ever seen you laugh.’
‘And?’
‘I like it.’
I giggle. ‘Good. Let’s go find you a drink.’
‘Is my car safe there?’
‘It’s not Detroit, you know.’
He jerks his head at the group of youths with the beer cans. ‘Are you sure?’
I look around and further away notice Kensington standing with a group of boys watching us. I point my thumb over my shoulder. ‘See that boy in the green baseball cap? If you give him a ride he’ll watch your car for you.’
Blake looks over at the boy.
‘That black boy?’ he says doubtfully.
‘Be careful, you might reveal your hand as not being an equal opportunities employer.’
Blake crooks a finger in the boy’s direction. Kensington doesn’t need any further encouragement. He jumps on his bike and tucking his head into his shoulders races towards us. He screeches to a stop dangerously close to Blake’s feet.
‘Oi! Watch it,’ I warn.
‘Sorry,’ he apologizes with a cheeky grin.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Kensington Parish.’
‘Want to watch my car for me, Kensington?’
‘Yeah,’ Kensington agrees enthusiastically. He looks at the car admiringly. ‘This car was made by God, man.’
‘Here’s fifty.’
Kensington’s eyes sparkle. ‘Fifty quid?’
His thin hand reaches out for it, but Blake pulls his hand back slightly. ‘If I come back and find the car exactly as I left it then there’s another fifty for you.’
Kensington’s face splits into an almighty grin. ‘Thanks, Mister,’ he says and snatches the note. Unceremoniously, he drops his bicycle on the ground and hops lightly onto the bonnet of the car.
‘You’re generous,’ I say.
‘Not at all. A single scratch can cost thousands to repair.’
We go up the stairs and find Billie. Billie makes a licking gesture behind his back, but she is very polite. ‘Forget about good Scotch here,’ she says, and goes to get Blake a beer. As we are talking, Jack walks in. He has a pretty girl on his arm and he introduces her as Alison.
‘Hello, Alison. Great to meet you,’ I say warmly, and turning to Jack, widen my eyes to say well done. He pretends he has not seen my gesture and, briefly shakes hands with Blake.
‘Right, I want you lot on your feet and dancing,’ Billie orders bossily, as she thrusts a bottle of beer into Blake’s palm.
‘I don’t dance,’ Blake says, as Jack and Alison quickly move off in the opposite direction.
A couple vacate one of the battered sofas. ‘Perhaps you would like to join me on one of these lovely sofas,’ Blake says, and collapses into its creaky springs. I laugh and fall next to him. A young man who looks the worse for wear comes and sits next to me on the sofa. He has a tattoo of men in a tug-of-war on his shaven head. Blake mutters something indecipherable and scoops me up and deposits me on his lap.
‘What are you doing?’ I squeal.
‘Don’t want you catching anything off him,’ he whispers in my ear.
I feel the hard muscles of his thighs. Flirtatiously, I look at him from beneath my lashes. He puts his big hands on my bare knees and pulls me until my rear is in close contact with his groin. I can feel how hard he has become.
Blake pulls me closer and captures my mouth. He smells of caramel and tastes divine. I slip my hand into his unbuttoned shirt, and find a man’s skin, hot, taut, muscles rippling underneath. It makes my lips part.
‘I want to take you home now,’ he growls in my ear.
‘OK,’ I agree instantly, and we stand to go.
‘Leaving so soon,’ Bill moans moodily.
‘It’s not really my scene,’ Blake says.
‘Call me tomorrow,’ Jack says, as I kiss his cheek.
‘I will.’
I turn to Alison, who is holding onto Jack possessively, as if she fears something is going on between Jack and me. ‘Take care of my brother,’ I whisper in her ear and see her relax and smile warmly for the first time.
Then Blake and I are leaving, holding hands, as if we are real lovers. As if he has not paid me to have sex with him. As if I am not the living, breathing doll that he expects to get bored with in a few weeks.
Outside, Kensington hops off the car bonnet when he spots us.
‘Good job,’ Blake says and slips him the other fifty.
‘Cool. What about a ride, then?’
‘Another time,’ replies Blake, opening the passenger door for me.
Blake is very quiet in the car. Suddenly he reaches past me to the glove box and takes out a velvet box. He tosses it into my lap. ‘I got you a present.’
‘On your birthday?’
‘I thought it would look great on you. Besides, what’s the point of having a rich lover if you don’t unearth expensive baubles out of him.’
I release the catch on the box. It opens and I gasp. On a bed of satin lies the most beautiful seven strand pearl necklace with a large oval sapphire centre.
‘Oh my!’ I say, staring at it.
At the next red light, he takes the necklace from my stunned hands and puts it around my throat while I hold my hair up. I feel his warm fingers on the back of my neck. Then the light changes and his fingers are gone. I turn around to face him, full of anticipation.
He takes his eyes off the road. ‘Beautiful,’ he says.
I look at myself in the visor mirror. Even in the dim light, the diamonds set around the large sapphire sparkle like stars. I didn’t get him anything.
‘I didn’t get you anything.’
His eyes drift away from the road and rest on me briefly. ‘I didn’t expect anything from you.’
‘Did you get lots of presents from your family?’
‘We don’t do presents. We already have everything we could want. When we were younger we did give each other joke gifts. But how many times can you give someone a blow-up doll or a penis enlargement gadget? It was a relief when that stopped.’
When we get to the apartment he picks me up in his arms, throws me on the bed and lunges in after me.
‘This is a dangerously sexy pair of white shorts, Miss Bloom,’ he teases. ‘Do you have the necessary license to operate such a weapon?’
‘It’s not mine. It belongs to Billie,’ I answer primly.
‘Ah, Billie of the ear biting fame. Do you think she might let me buy it from her?’
‘Oooo I don’t know. It did come from a very exclusive market stall in Kilburn. There are only five hundred thousand others like it.’
His eyebrows rise, his lips curve. ‘That rare?’
‘That rare.’
‘I better make my bid good then.’
‘Good idea, Mr. Barrington. Kill the competition in one fell swoop.’
‘As her agent, what do you suggest I offer?’
‘I believe she is hankering after a pink car.’
His eyes gleam. ‘Are you sure, Miss Bloom, that I am not better off approaching the market dealer directly?’
‘Of course you can… But it will not have the Lana Bloom scent,’ I say daringly.
His eyes widen and fill with delicious longing. ‘You never said a truer word, Miss Bloom.’
His long fingers very deliberately pop the top button and pull down the zip. The sound is exciting in the silence. I can hear my own ragged breathing. He slides the shorts off.
‘Ah, these legs… So long… So silky… I swear I never met a girl with skin such as yours.’
The shorts slip over my ankles and end up clutched in his big hands. He crushes them, brings them to his nose and inhales deeply. ‘The Lana Bloom scent. I’ll miss it,’ he whispers, almost to himself.
And suddenly I tense. All this will end soon.
This apartment, this bed, these clothes, this delicious banter, this man…will all disappear into nothing. I will be left only with memories. I clutch his forearms, pull his mouth down to mine, and kiss him desperately, opening my mouth, begging him to be inside me. He has already left his mark on me. I must leave my mark on him. I lie under him naked but for my necklace, and realize I don’t know how to.
When the desert wind blew it covered everything in sand.