At work that night Mason is all over me like a rash. The more I push him away, the keener he is. He asks me to go to his club with him when my shift ends. And I think sod it, why not? I’ve had a shit day and I deserve some fun.
We dance, drink too much and, afterwards, I go up to his flat with him drunk as a skunk. In bed, he blindfolds me, ties me up and pours champagne over my body which he laps up like a cat. The things he does with his tongue are totally obscene. And I love every fucking minute of it.
Just don’t tell Charlie. Please don’t tell Charlie.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
As if she’s psychic, Charlie phones me in the morning. I’m still in bed next to Mason. The ties and blindfold are still on the pillow. I get a flashback to our night of passion and feel an unwanted rush of desire for him.
‘Hiya,’ she says, brightly. ‘What are you up to this morning, Chummie?’
I look across at my companion who’s stirring from his sleep. ‘Err. Not much.’
Call me fickle, but I want to get up and out of here as fast as I can before Mason can do any more damage.
‘Meet me for brekkie,’ Charlie says. ‘Then we can go straight to work.’
‘OK. Give me an hour.’
‘We’ll meet at the café in the woods?’ One of our favourite haunts.
‘Sounds like a plan. See you later.’ I hang up.
Mason opens one eye. ‘Good morning, Brown.’
‘Sorry my phone woke you. It was Charlie. I’m meeting her for breakfast.’
His hand snakes under the sheet and round my waist, pulling me to him. His leg rests over mine, pinning me to the bed. I get a vision of him above me last night, my hands bound and held over my head. ‘Don’t go,’ he says. ‘Stay. I’ll make you breakfast. I am the king of scrambled eggs.’
He’s probably had lots of practice, I think. I wonder how many women have already been in this posh apartment with him. You don’t keep a blindfold for yourself, do you now?
‘I should go.’ I wriggle away from him and out of the bed.
Mason sighs at me. ‘Last night was fun, right?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘It was great.’ Just what I needed, apparently.
‘So why are you running out on me this morning?’
‘I’m not running out, I’m just leaving.’
‘I can’t read you, Ruby.’ He shakes his head. ‘You’re always keeping me at arm’s length.’
‘I’m in your bed.’
‘But you’re not entirely here, are you? You’re already somewhere else.’ He stares at me, levelly. ‘I think we could be good together.’
‘I’m looking for more, Mason.’
‘How do you know that I can’t give you more until you try me?’
I’ve no idea what to say to that, so I deflect, ‘Charlie’s waiting for me. I have to go.’
Mason flops back on the bed. ‘Tonight?’
‘Working.’
You see, in the cold light of day, I can rationalise that I don’t want to be with someone like Mason, but there’s no doubt that I have a weakness for him.
‘At least let me make you some tea.’
‘I’m fine. Honestly.’ After what we did last night, for some reason I’m embarrassed to be naked before him. I find my clothes, scattered about the floor alongside Mason’s in our haste to undress. The thought of it brings a flush to my cheeks and my loins. And I really didn’t even think I had loins.
While I pull on last night’s underwear – inside out, give me some credit – I look round the room. It’s so masculine, so Mason. The bed is chocolate brown leather and there’s a leather chair in the corner. Above the bed is a huge painting of a vintage cycle in sepia tones, the bedside tables bear anglepoise lamps. There’s not a thing out of place anywhere – he’s the tidiest sex addict I know. Yet, stylish as it undoubtedly is, it looks more like a hotel room than a home. Unlived in and a little bit unloved. I know we made our way through the kitchen and living room in our rush to bed, but I’ve no idea what either of those look like. I imagine that they’re both as achingly trendy.
When I’m dressed, I go to kiss him on the cheek. He tries to pull me back down onto the bed, but I ease myself out of his embrace.
‘Catch you later,’ I say. ‘Thanks again.’
‘That’s it?’
I shrug. ‘What more do you want?’
There’s an exasperated note in his voice when he says, ‘I’m not going to pursue you for ever, Brown.’
‘OK.’
He pouts like a toddler. ‘What am I going to do with myself for the rest of the day?’
‘I’m sure you’ll think of something. I’m going to meet Charlie.’
And I leave him in his swanky leather bed looking distinctly disgruntled.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Charlie is already waiting for me at the café. She’s bagged one of the tables on the terrace that overlooks the pond on the edge of the woods. It’s another glorious day and maybe summer will be here to stay for more than a day or two this time. We’ve had too many false starts this year. Making the most of the weather, the dog walkers are out in force and we’re lucky to get this spot. ‘I’ve ordered us two full English brekkies.’
‘Good. I’m starving.’
‘You look like shit.’ You can always count on Charlie to be candid. ‘Did you have any sleep at all last night?’
‘Not a lot.’
‘Joe?’
‘Complicated.’
‘Ah.’
With convenient timing, our breakfasts arrive and we busy ourselves with buttering toast and administering the correct amount of ketchup.
‘Al fresco cooky brekky! Does life get any better?’ Charlie exclaims.
‘Al fresco cooky brekky with The Barlow?’
‘Ah, yes. Everything is better with a bit of added Barlow.’
So that Charlie didn’t get the scent of my scandalous indiscretion, I did manage to go home after leaving Mason’s place and have a quick run round the shower. I also washed my hair and put on my work stuff, so I’m not still wearing last night’s clothes. I’m sure that she won’t be able to tell that I spent the night with Mason.
‘I had some great news this morning,’ she says. ‘I got free tickets to the Take That concert dress rehearsals in Manchester. Me and Paul are going up together. Yay! Go me!’
‘Cool.’
‘You don’t mind that I asked Paul instead of you?’
‘No. I’m glad. He’ll appreciate it more than me.’ Plus, I rather like the idea of her going with Nice Paul. He’ll look after her. I know it. ‘You must be thrilled.’
‘I like to imagine that Gary personally hand-picked me.’ Charlie goes all dreamy-looking.
‘I’m sure he did.’
‘How did the first family date go yesterday?’ Charlie asks between mouthfuls.
‘It was disastrous with a capital “D”.’
‘That bad?’
‘Shocker.’ I pause to contemplate while chewing my bacon. ‘The children, far from being the little sweethearts that I’d conjured up in my head, were evil. They were determined to hate me on sight.’
‘You’re trying to steal their daddy away from them.’
‘I’m not.’