“Everyone here is your supervisor. Until you prove yourself, you’re rather a bit player, if you know what I mean.”
Cadan knew what he meant, but he was sick to death of proving himself. To this person, to that person, to his father, to anyone. He just wanted to get on with things, and no one was letting him. That fact made him want to hurl Alan Cheston into the nearest wall. He itched to do it, to act on the impulse and to hell with the consequence. It would feel so good.
He said, “Fuck it. I’m clearing out. I’ve come for my clobber.” He headed for the stairs.
“Have you informed Mr. Kerne?”
“You can do that for me.”
“It’ll hardly look good?”
“Like I almost care.” He left Alan staring after him, lips parted as if he was about to say more, as if he was going to point out?correctly?that if Cadan Angarrack had some sort of kit he’d left at Adventures Unlimited, it would hardly be on the upper floors of the building. But Alan said nothing, and his silence left Cadan in command, which was where he wanted to be.
He had no kit at Adventures Unlimited. No clobber, no gear, no anything. But he told himself that he would check each room he’d been in during his very brief time in the employ of the Kernes because one never knew where one had left a possession and after this, it would be a bit uncomfortable for him to have to come by and pick up anything he might have left behind….
Room after room. Door opened, a quick look inside, door closed. A quiet, “Hullo. Anyone in here?” as if he expected his supposed forgotten possessions to speak. He finally found her on the top floor, where the family lived, where he could have gone at once had he been practising honesty with himself, which he was not.
She was in Santo’s bedroom. At least, Cadan assumed that it was Santo’s bedroom by the surfing posters, the single bed, the pile of T-shirts on a chair, and the pair of trainers that Dellen Kerne was caressing on her lap when Cadan opened the door.
She was all in black, jersey and trousers and a band holding her blond hair off her face. She had on no makeup, and a scratch marked her cheek. Her feet were bare. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed.
Cadan said, “Hey,” in what he hoped was a gentle voice.
She opened her eyes. They fixed on him, the pupils so large that the violet of her irises was nearly obscured. She dropped the trainers to the floor with a soft thud. She held out her hand.
He went to her and helped her to her feet. He saw she had nothing on beneath her jersey. Her nipples were large, round, and rigid. He stirred at this. For once, he admitted the truth to himself. This was why he’d come to Adventures Unlimited. Jago’s advice and the rest of the world be damned.
He grazed the tip of her nipple with his fingers. Her eyelids lowered but did not close. He knew it was safe to continue. He took a step to be nearer. A hand on her waist and then circling round, cupping her bum while the other hand’s fingers stayed where they were and played like feathers against her. He bent to kiss her. Her mouth opened willingly beneath his and he pulled her more firmly against him so that she would feel what he wanted her to feel.
He said when he could, “That key you had yesterday.”
She didn’t reply. He knew she knew what he was talking about because her mouth lifted to his once more.
He kissed her. Long and deeply and it went on and on till he thought his eyeballs might pop from his head and his eardrums might burst. His slamming heart needed some place to go besides his chest because if it didn’t find another home, he reckoned he could die on the spot. He ground against her. He began to ache.
He broke away from her and said, “The beach huts. You had a key. We can’t. Not here.” Not in the family quarters and certainly not in Santo’s room. It was indecent, somehow.
“Can’t what?” She leaned her forehead against his chest.
“You know. Yesterday when we were in the kitchen, you had a key. You said it was for one of the beach huts. Let’s use it.”