Three Rivers (31 page)

Takis led her to the car while she was still talking about herself. He decided to take her to the house in Sounion, open it up, and give her the fuck of her life.

She was too busy flirting and telling him about her great success in all that she did, to even known that she was about to get laid.

The gates were locked; he opened them, drove the new car through, and they went to open the house as its shutters were all closed. They opened a few and then he offered to make her a coffee. Now she was more than the little coquette, she was the defenseless little lady, all pretty and purring.

How wonderful to be there with him. She now saw a different side to him, but it was getting late and she had
things to do. After all, she might compromise him if they were there too long.

He poured the coffee and put his arm around her. She pretended to pull away, telling him what a naughty man he was, and he slapped her on the cheek, none too gently, to get her attention. She pouted and he kissed her. She put up a very small struggle as he continued to kiss her until she relaxed and opened her mouth ever so slightly and then he had her.

Between feeble reproaches — “Oh no, no, we can’t, no” — she helped him take off her dress so as not to wrinkle it. He put her on the sofa, on her back, determined to give her a really good fuck, the one that she had been teasing for over the past two years.

She did not have very large breasts, but she did have large nipples. He put one of them in his mouth and sucked hard on it, and every time she protested he gave her a light slap on the cheek. At one point he took his mouth off the nipple and said, “You be quiet. This is what you want; you be quiet for once,” and back to her nipple he went.

She began to squirm with pain and finally told him he was hurting her too much. He left off and went to the other nipple. By now he was completely aroused. He played with her body as he had with her nipples. He did not have to ask her, she threw her legs up and out, and when he touched her vulva, she saw him rampant and ready to drive into her. She escaped him for the moment by rolling over on her side and starting to protest. At the same time she tried to get away from him and off the sofa.

He gave her a very hard smack on the ass and pulled her to him, telling her she had teased him long enough. With some gentleness, he touched her and fondled her, telling her that he was going to make her happy, more satisfied than she had ever been, to trust him.

He had her down on the sofa again, and while talking to her, found his way. Before she knew what was happening, he rammed into her. Once inside he stayed there and told her exactly what to do; he was an accomplished lover and knew very well how to satisfy her.

Ava did not have an orgasm, but she liked the attention and the effort that he made over her. So she faked it. Before she dressed, she did some of her gymnastics to show him how limber she was and to show off her body to this puffing, middle-aged Greek lover.

He told her he was going to take her in some of those positions. He told her he had a
pied à terre
in Athens, and if they were very discreet, they could meet in the afternoons. He said that now that he had her, he found her wonderful, but she needed more working on because, although he knew she had enjoyed herself, he was not sure she had been satisfied.

Ava dressed herself and looked impeccable. Not a wrinkle in her dress, not a hair out of place. He took her home and tried to make arrangements for the next day. Ava was clever.

Now she knew she had him hooked with the desire to satisfy her, and now she had given him a taste, but in the future he would have to work a little harder to get her. No, tomorrow was not convenient. Yes, of course she would like to be with him, but as he had said, they must be discreet.

And so Ava began another affair, thinking to herself that he might be a better husband than the one she had because he had so much more money and she liked him quite well. As for the sex, he was right. She wanted it, and he could work on her, and maybe it would all work out well. She would not mind having a big old stud like him for a change. Yes, she would work on that. She would never do anything to hurt Alfred, but if it turned out that they were good together and he offered her a better marriage, she would be obliged to take it.

At six she arrived home and took a bath, very sure to wash all the lovemaking away. Before she dressed she examined herself in the mirror, not so much in admiration as in an unremitting search for flaws, signs of fatigue, decay, any imperfection. There were none, or at least she saw none.

She reached down and with her left hand grabbed her left ankle. She raised her leg high, level with her shoulder, and looked at herself in the mirror, with her vagina exposed. She saw herself as a beautiful painting, a portrait of a beautiful young American woman.

As she began to dress she could not help but laugh to herself at Takis. How foolish men are about sex. Ava hated fantasy, just as she hated sleep. She had the utmost difficulty in sleeping. Sleep and fantasy took her away from herself. She felt defenseless and without control.

She went to the bar and poured herself a large Scotch,
knocking it back in one swallow. She poured herself another drink and took it out to the balcony. She stood there, looking over the city, thinking of Isabel and her amazing lack of success in having relationships.

It was obvious to Ava that Isabel’s preoccupation with being creative and successful was alienating her from the possibility of making a life with anyone. Isabel would have to suffer loneliness all the days of her life because she simply did not stick to the basic rules. She herself had always obeyed the rules dictated by society and good manners. If Isabel were to be punished by having to spend her life alone, she brought it on herself. Isabel experimented with life; she lived in dreams, fantasies, illusions.

Typical of Isabel to go to Egypt on a holiday with the hope of picking up a job. Had she not warned Isabel about money and payment beforehand? About the phoniness of the rich who had to hire people like her?

As she put her empty glass on the table, she felt rather pleased with herself and her new lover. Her anger against Isabel had subsided, but only after the thought of how secure she was and how Isabel was not. She had her man, Alfred; and now a lover, if she wanted him. Isabel was a failure. She had never had a husband, and Ava was sure she never would have. If Isabel had any men in her life, they could be nothing but one-night stands. She was bad marriage material.

With that, her last thought, she went into her study and decided that she would waste no more time on the trivial thoughts of her family. After all, she had the
Reader’s Digest
to deal with.

Kate was thinking about her clothes. What she should wear in Egypt. What she should take to London.
Silly, what’s to think about. For London you take everything; you will be there forever
.

One of the travel agencies was going to find out about a cruise boat that stopped in Athens, next stop Alexandria. The boat stayed two days, and all passengers were offered a morning in Alexandria and a boat trip up the Nile for one night; the ship, the
Aphrodite
, then sailed directly to Southampton.

Now, if she could find a cabin on that ship, she could take all her clothes and a few household things as well, if they were all packed cleverly. In fact, she could take all
her possessions. But she would have to make sure that once in Southampton the shipping line would store the bulk of her luggage.

What she would not want was for Isabel to realize that she had come to move in with her. Not that in the end Isabel would not be happy. It was more that she should be led into it gradually. After all, Isabel had lived alone all her life since she had left home. Now, in middle age, there would never be anyone. It would be better if she had her mother with her. What a good time they would have.

The very thought of London and a new life on Hill Street made her think of Endo.
When he sees how capable I am of protecting Isabel, he will go of his own accord
, she decided.
I would not for the world tell Isabel to fire him because she will not. I know her. But I intend to pay my share and then it will be possible for me to have a say-so in the house
.

Kate checked her schedule. If the boat arrives in Athens on Monday, that means it would sail sometime Tuesday or Wednesday to Alexandria. Try as she would, she couldn’t remember how many days the travel agent had said it was to Southampton. Well, she’d find out.

On Saturday she would call Isabel and tell her when the boat docks. Then she would close the flat but not rent it out until she was sure she was happy in London.

She sat down and made a list of the brothers and sisters she had envied, hated, or loved across the years. She would write to them all, telling them that she was needed in London by Isabel and would be living with her for a while. She would tell them she could be reached there. After her trip around the Middle East.

VIII

Isabel had not spoken to Alexis since Monday afternoon. She had no idea where he was and what was happening to him, or, for that matter, how he felt about her.

There had been no word from Max, and that was just as
well. Ava seemed content, and Kate was relatively quiescent. As for Kate’s trip to London, who knew what would happen about that? She was so changeable; Isabel could only wait and see. Her work was ticking over nicely and she had the time and inclination to work on the present Meredith Montague. And she was with Alexis.

Late in the afternoon she took the dogs out for a walk, and on her way home she saw Gamal, struggling up Hill Street with a huge box wrapped in white paper with red polka dots. On top of it was a huge, red silk bow.

She called to him and walked quickly to meet him. As soon as they entered the house she called Endo to help him. Up the stairs they all trotted — dogs, Gamal, Endo, Isabel and the box.

“One gift for you, Miss Wells,” said Gamal with a wide smile.

She untied the ribbon, tore off the wrappings and lifted the lid off the box, noticing that it was perforated. Before she could reach in, out leapt a pair of tiny, pure white, Chinchilla cats.

Chaos broke loose. Winston and Rita started to bark at the two fluffy, white creatures with the most amazing green eyes. Arthur appeared from nowhere to hunch his back and hiss. Just as Isabel went to grab Arthur, she saw one black, fluffy paw reach over the side of the box, then the other, and then a pair of huge, twinkly blue eyes and a tiny, almost minute, black button of a nose. She had Arthur by this time, and Endo took the black kitten. Isabel was enchanted by them.

By now all three of them had animals in their arms. None of them could stop laughing. They were having a wonderful time.

Before long things began to calm down. Gamal, amazingly, was able to get Rita and Winston playing with one of the cats. The servant handed her an envelope. She opened it and read: “My darling. I wanted you to have a Honey Lamb, Red Moon and Desert Horse. I will take you to lunch tomorrow. Claridges 2:00
P.M.
in the bar. Love, Alexis.”

Isabel was overjoyed. All she wanted to do was get on the telephone and call him. She could not resist it, and in her enthusiasm she asked Gamal, “Where is he, Gamal? Where can I find him? I want to call him.”

Gamal, always the faithful servant, said for her to call
Alexander. She thought about it and said, “No, never mind. I will wait and thank him tomorrow.”

He saw her disappointment and was very sweet and said, “The box was sent from Paris. You understand, Paris?”

She understood but still decided not to call Alexander; she would wait. She thought Alexis was mad, almost as mad as she was. Whatever was she going to do with this menagerie? Kate would think her insane, and what was worse, she would be upset because she was allergic to cats. She hoped that they would be as good about all the birds up in the studio as Arthur was. Well, Endo would train them to leave the Hill Street singers alone.

By this time the three of them were on the drawing room floor, playing with the animals. Endo invited Gamal to stay and have dinner with him.

Isabel was too excited and happy to remain alone, and of all the people she knew, and could have called, it was strange that she called Alexander. She did not ask after Alexis, but invited him to come and have a drink with her that evening, and see her kittens.

When he arrived they sat in the drawing room, having drinks. Endo and Gamal were in the kitchen. The menagerie was more or less calmed down but parading everywhere.

Alexander said, “You know, I think both you and Alexis have gone mad. This is more a zoo than a house, Isabel. Camels, Chinchilla cats, who knows where it will end!” For all his amused disapproval he managed to keep the black cat on his lap, petting her as she hung on to his tie with her little teeth.

Sir Alexis Hyatt arrived at Claridges with two of the sheikhs who had been at the conference with him in Damascus. They stepped out of the dark blue Mercedes 600 and were shown immediately through the lobby to the elevator. By the time they entered the elevator two cars had arrived behind the Mercedes and had disgorged the entourage of the two sheikhs.

Alexis was the first of the men to say farewell. The hotel manager, who knew him well, escorted him to his suite. Alexis heaved a sigh of relief. He was so pleased to be there.

The suite was perfect. It was the one that he always
had. It had two bedrooms, two baths, a drawing room and a large entrance hall. Designed some time in the twenties, it was a magnificent example of Art Deco at its best.

The rooms had several bowls of flowers in them, including the arrangement of four dozen pale pink tulips, exactly as he had asked. Out of the bedroom came Gamal to greet Alexis. He had been in the bathroom running Alexis’s bath, having heard him arrive at the door. The manager handed Alexis his briefcase, they shook hands and he left. Alexis then went to the desk in the drawing room, opened the drawer and emptied the contents of his case into it. He handed the empty case to Gamal and began peeling off his clothes as he made his way first into the bedroom and then into the bathroom.

Gamal poured him a Scotch and soda and brought it to him in the bath. After rolling up his sleeves, he picked up a large sponge and started to wash Alexis’s back.

Alexis was now beginning to unwind. “How is she, Gamal?” he asked.

Gamal told him everything. She loved the kittens. He had made a friend of her servant, who was very nice, and seemed to take care of her very well. She was an unusual lady. The house was like an oasis in London. She already had many animals and birds, and she had a weaving machine at which she worked. She had a Japanese garden, … and on and on he went.

Alexis was impatient. “All that is wonderful, Gamal, and I am happy to hear all about it, but now tell me about
her
. Is she well? Is she happy? Does she seem pleased? Those are the things I must know.”

Gamal told him he thought that she was very pleased, very happy.

Alexis relaxed a little more in the bathtub, looking forward to seeing Isabel. In an hour’s time he would be with her. He wondered what the separation had meant for her and how they would be when they met again. The very thought of her, just a few blocks away, aroused him.

As Gamal massaged the back of his neck, Alexis closed his eyes and felt the electricity that he still had for her. He became excited just thinking of them together. He was behaving like a schoolboy and began laughing at himself. He picked up the sponge and rubbed his arms with it and
threw it back in the tub, telling Gamal he wanted to get out.

Wrapping himself in his great terrycloth robe, he went to the bedroom to dress. His new suit from Huntsman was laid out on the bed; a Turnbull and Asser shirt and tie were laid out next to it. He was pleased with the suit; it was charcoal gray with a faint pinstripe in it. When he put it on, he was very pleased indeed. The cut and fit were perfect. He sat down on the bed while Gamal put on his dark socks and tied his fine, shiny, black calfskin shoes.

While buckling on his wristwatch, he realized that for the first time since he had left Isabel on the plane at Damascus Airport he was beginning to relax.

It had been an extraordinary week. The meetings in Damascus had gone very well. A great many people had to make a great many concessions, but there was no question in Alexis’s mind that there was going to be a better peace and more advantages for everyone as a result. The diplomats were all greatly indebted to him and had showed him the greatest courtesy and respect.

He had Hamida fly out to him the very night that Isabel was on her way to London. They had sex and talked together, and during their second night he told her that it was over for them. He was as kind as a man can be under those circumstances, letting her down as gently as he could, saying that of course he would speak to her and see her occasionally at parties, and so they must part as friends. Who knows, they might one day even have a casual fling together, but their deep relationship — her position as a part-time mistress — was over.

He gave her a gift; a two-bedroom flat in Monte Carlo. She had asked him innumerable questions, including was it because of the American, Isabel? He said yes, it was. When asked if he was going to marry her, he said he had no plans for the moment. He was taking things one step at a time. All he knew was that for the moment she was the woman he wanted with him in his life.

Hamida did not take it very well, but she had been given little choice. Alexis was a very clever man and saw to it that Hamida’s sister traveled with her to make it easier for her.

Wednesday and Thursday he had spent in Paris, in his house on the Avenue Foch. He saw two of his other
women. The great black beauty who was with him the first night that Isabel saw him at Regine’s in Paris. She was difficult. He had had her for sex for a few years now. A destructive, strange creature, a sometime lesbian, but always a demanding female sexually. She was great in bed with him and serviced him well. He knew her to have a vile temper and had seen she could be very vindictive.

That Wednesday night when they went out and afterwards to bed, she asked to bring along a young man she had met. It had been a sexually erotic night, and in the morning he told her that it was over. That he would not be seeing her again, maybe for a long time, maybe forever. He wanted her to understand how good it had been and wanted to give her something as a thank-you. Was there something special that she would like to have?

She was very calm and collected about it. She said what she most wanted was a discotheque in New York, but she told Alexis not to waste the money; she would just run such a club into the ground. Instead she asked for a memento instead of a payoff.

It was this very thing that Alexis liked the most about her, besides the sex. He told her she could have anything she liked for a gift, and she chose a mink coat, the longest, most expensive one she could find. On the way from the furriers they saw a poster advertising the International Cat Show, at Wembly Stadium in London. Later, Alexis called Alexander and arranged the gift for Isabel.

The black beauty asked him if he had found
the
woman. He said he was not sure, but he thought he had.

She wished him luck and said, “I won’t bother you. You call me if you ever want me, Daddy.”

She left him on a corner, near the Place Vendôme. She was on her way to see her young man and show him her new coat. As she folded herself into a taxi, she called to him, “Thank you for the coat. It’s been great, Daddy,” and waved good-bye.

On Thursday he saw the woman in his life to whom he knew it would be the most difficult to say good-bye.

Alexis had bought her a flat on the rue Clement Marot years before. She was French, very beautiful, intelligent, clever, amusing, independent, and had left her husband for him. In all the years that they had been together she had known that she was sharing him with Hamida, as well as others.

She was an editor of a chic fashion magazine in Paris and always kept their relationship very discreet, not wanting the gossip columns to get hold of it. He liked her the most of all the women, but there was that something missing in her, a touch of sensitivity perhaps, that kept him from falling wholly in love. She had everything except that little bit of soul.

Gabrielle and he dined
à deux
. They made love, and then, during the night when they were lying together talking, he told her that this was his good-bye. She was the only one who did not ask why or for whom he was leaving her.

She made love to him twice more that night. When he woke in the morning, she was gone. In lipstick she had written on the mirror over the wash basin,
“Bonne chance”;
Gabrielle was the one that he came closest to loving.

He looked at his watch again. It was ten minutes to two. He went to the mirror and put a comb through his hair and went down to the bar. In the elevator he was surprised when he realized that he was feeling a little nervous.

When he entered the bar there were few people, as he knew there would be at that hour. The string quartet was playing as he walked through the large, open room with its comfortable chairs and small round tables. The waiter brought him a Scotch and soda, and he sat back and waited.

He chose his table because from there he could look straight through the room, past the quartet, into the lobby, and down the two marble steps to the revolving door at the entrance. He would see her the moment she came in. And there she was.

She walked, almost hurried, up the two stairs, through the lobby and into the room, looking around for him. Oh, she was beautiful. She had on a sleeveless sable coat over a white silk jersey dress, with sleeves long and loose. Her coat was open and he could see with every step she took towards him the simple V-neck and the sensuous material moving over her body. She had one hand tucked in her pocket as she casually swung into the room in her high-heeled, light brown, alligator shoes. She carried no handbag and her hair moved, all silky and clean, showing off her face and her diamond earrings. He had forgotten
about her legs. Suddenly, for the first time, he was aroused by her legs.

She saw him and he stood up. Isabel walked right up to him and into his arms. He automatically slipped his hands under her sable coat, touching the sides of her breasts, and gave her a hug. He did not kiss her.

They sat down and he said nothing. He just kept drinking in the look of her.

Finally she said, with a very happy smile, “Hello, you. Where shall I begin? The pussycats, they’re wonderful. I cannot wait for you to see them.”

He was smiling at her now. “I am pleased that you liked them. What will you drink?”

“Campari and soda.”

After he had ordered for her, she thanked him for the rest of her gifts and asked him how his work went, but avoided asking what she most wanted to know: about the women. They went into the dining room and were ushered to their table. When she slipped off her coat, the simplicity of the white dress complemented her radiance.