‘I want you, Allegra,’ he said, kissing her neck, her ears, her chin. ‘You’ve been driving me mad for so long … Do you know how difficult it’s been working with you, knowing what you look like naked, what you feel like, what you taste like?’ He pulled back and stared into her eyes. ‘You do want me too?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yes,’ she said, almost as a sigh. She buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him close to her so that they could devour
each
other’s mouths again. He lifted her up, she wrapped her legs round his waist, and he carried her into the bedroom, laying her down on the soft smooth silk blanket. He lay down beside her, stroking her body continuously as he kissed her, as though unable to keep his hands off the beauty of her shoulders, breasts, belly and thighs.
She wondered when the little voice was going to come and spoil everything. She waited for it as she and Adam kissed, rolling round the bed. When she slid her lacy knickers down her thighs and off, she expected to hear it mocking her, as usual, even while Adam drew in his breath in excitement as he saw her bush of light blonde hair, and the coral lips of her pussy. She listened for it as he pushed his cock into her and they moved sweetly together.
But it didn’t come. There was no little voice, it was silenced.
Oh my God, am I finally free?
she wondered as he moved deep inside her and she wrapped her arms around him, tightening her thighs round his waist.
Am I allowed to enjoy this?
She felt a rush of joy and moaned with pleasure as he stiffened and arched back, his eyes closed tightly as he rushed to his orgasm. Then he fell back on the pillow beside her.
‘Did you come?’ he asked anxiously. ‘I wasn’t sure, I tried to wait.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘but believe me, I had a wonderful time.’
‘Really?’ He looked doubtful. He wrapped his arms round her.
‘I mean it.’ She ran a finger down his face, smiling at the look in his eyes. ‘I’m glad you care. I’ll tell you more another time.’
‘All right.’ He dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. ‘I’ll never rush you. Whenever you’re ready. Are you sure I can’t do something?’ He brushed a hand lightly over her bush.
‘Not now, darling.’ She sighed happily. ‘There’s plenty of
time
for all that. I’m sleepy.’ She rolled into his chest, nestling close to him. ‘Night-night.’
‘Good night.’ He rested his head on top of hers and the next moment they were both asleep.
She woke to a delicious sensation, warm waves of pleasure rolling out from her pussy. She groaned almost without knowing why and put her hand down to her groin. Adam’s hand was already there, his index and middle finger rubbing gently over her clitoris, sometimes dipping down to her pussy to stroke the entrance to her hole, smoothing her juices back up to her clit so that he could carry on rolling smoothly over it, pushing its small hood back and pressing on its sensitive tip.
She gasped, almost unable to bear the electric sensation, the extraordinary tingling in her entire groin that was verging on painful.
He pushed into her neck, kissing her softly and nuzzling her, moving towards her mouth. The combined sensation of his mouth on her neck and his fingers twirling and twirling over her clit was extraordinary. The feeling built and built until she wondered what on earth could happen next, and then she felt a rush of pleasure as though she were taking off; she grabbed him, digging her nails into his arm as she convulsed, the orgasm taking hold of her and keeping her in its grip for what felt like minutes.
When she fell back on the pillow, her breathless panting turned to laughter.
‘What?’ he asked with a gentle smile. ‘Was that funny?’
‘No … no … it was lovely. I’ve never been woken up like that before.’ She gazed into his eyes. ‘Thank you. That was … gorgeous.’
‘Was it?’
‘Yes. More than you know.’
Chapter 49
London
September 2009
‘MUM, I DON’T
need you yet, honestly,’ Imogen said into the telephone, jigging up and down. ‘Now I’ve got to go … really, I must. I’m desperate for the loo. The baby’s pressing right on my bladder.’
This was enough to get her mother off the phone and she dashed to the lavatory, as fast she could with an enormous bump to carry with her. She was vast now and constantly floored by tiredness. She hadn’t been able to go to the party at Oscar’s the previous night because she felt like an elephant and couldn’t keep her eyes open after eight p.m.
She went downstairs, slow and ponderous, and into the kitchen. There was no sign of Allegra but that was not surprising: it had probably been a late one last night and she was no doubt exhausted after all the hard work of getting Oscar’s launch party ready. It was extraordinary how, on top of that workload, she’d also found time to locate and buy Astor House, and start planning all that as well.
Who would have thought that flighty, lazy, feckless Allegra, who had so loved scandalous partying, would now be carving out a career for herself in the world of exclusive nightclubs? Everyone would have marked out Imogen as the career girl, and Allegra as no more than a wastrel.
But look at me now! I’m the one who’s abandoned my promising career: pregnant, single and no way of looking after myself. Well, thank God for friends, that’s all
. It had been Allegra’s idea that Imogen should share her large Regent’s Park house, where there was plenty of room for two women and a baby.
She made herself a cup of tea and then waddled back out into the hall with it. She would take it up to bed and try to relax for a little longer. The door, she noticed, had not been chained. Even though it was dead bolted in three places, Allegra always liked to put the chain on the door when she came in. And there was no sign of her coat, bag or shoes. Usually, when she came in after a late night, she would drop her things on the floor and kick off her heels, leaving them where they lay.
Imogen frowned.
That’s odd. I don’t think she’s come back
.
Well, Allegra was a big girl and could no doubt look after herself. And she deserved to let her hair down after the stress of the launch night. Perhaps she was still out, partying somewhere.
Just then, Imogen felt a little shimmer in her belly and put her hand on it. It was hugely distended and very firm to the touch, a smooth tight drum of a stomach. Until recently, she’d felt lots of kicking but lately it had calmed down. ‘The baby’s engaged,’ the midwife had told her, ‘and it’s a tight fit in there now. Not much room for kicking any more.’
But her due date had come and gone and no sign of an arrival yet. She was getting tired of the discomfort and eager to meet her baby, but wanting didn’t seem to have any effect.
I think I’m always going to be pregnant
, she thought,
I’ll be a freak of nature who just goes on getting bigger and bigger
…
As she climbed back into bed, she felt another movement in her stomach, but this was a little different. It was a short,
sharp
clench, not painful but definitely not something she could recognise. She waited for a while but there was nothing else so she took up her book and sipped at her tea. Then the pain came again. She looked at the clock. Ten minutes since the first one. It might be a false labour. Some practice contractions, perhaps. But ten minutes later, another one came, and then another, a little firmer and stronger.
She sat there, smiling, clutching her huge stomach. ‘You’re coming at last, baby,’ she said to it. ‘At last.’
Allegra arrived at lunchtime, still in her beautiful Preen cocktail dress, but barefoot, her mesh sandals over one hand. She came into the kitchen, eyes sparkling, hair ruffled and messy, looking joyful.
‘How did it go?’ Imogen was sitting at the kitchen table, eating soup. A big piece of fruit cake sat on a plate next to her. ‘You look very happy.’
‘I am, I am.’ Allegra slid into the seat next to her. ‘It went wonderfully. I’m going in tonight to make sure that everything is ready for the official opening tomorrow. We left quite a mess behind but I’m sure Nasser can deal with everything. He’s great.’
‘So tell me all about it!’ urged Imogen eagerly, sipping her soup.
Allegra had begun to recount the events of the party when Imogen suddenly clutched her stomach and groaned, her face scrunching up. A few seconds later, completely recovered, she picked up a pen, looked at a piece of paper next to her and said, ‘Five minutes since the last one.’ She noted down the time and wrote
5 mins
next to it.
Allegra gaped at her. ‘Are you in labour?’ she demanded.
Imogen smiled, her eyes bright. ‘I think so. I think this is it.’
‘Oh, Midge!’ Allegra stared at her with a mixture of fear
and
happiness. ‘How is it? What’s happening?’
‘I’m sure there’re hours to go. It’s been three or four already and I’m only at five minutes apart. The pain isn’t too bad. It started off just like little period pains but now it’s growing and getting stronger … much more like I’m wearing a corset and someone is pulling it really, really tight and then letting it go.’
‘Should we go to the hospital?’ demanded Allegra, getting up. ‘I’ll get changed. Is your bag all ready? We’d better leave at once.’ She had booked Imogen into the exclusive and expensive private Portland Hospital months ago.
‘No, no,’ Imogen said calmly. ‘We don’t have to think about leaving until the contractions are about three minutes apart. And I haven’t had any show of blood or fluid. It’s a first labour. I’ll probably be like this for days. That’s why I’m eating this lentil soup and fruit cake – lots of slow-release energy.’
‘So there’s time for me to have a shower?’
‘Oh, yes, loads of time.’
Allegra smiled at her, her eyes gentle. ‘I can’t believe it’s really happening. You’re going to give birth. You’re so brave.’ She hugged her friend.
‘I don’t know if I’m brave,’ Imogen replied, laughing. ‘There’s not a lot I can do about it now!’ Then she stiffened, held her breath and her face contorted with pain. When it disappeared, she said breathlessly, ‘That was definitely stronger than the last one. And four and half minutes since the last one. Perhaps you’d better hurry up with that shower after all.’
When Allegra emerged, washed and dressed in jeans and a Marc Jacobs floaty black top, Imogen was still in the kitchen. Her soup and fruitcake had been abandoned and her notepaper and pen discarded. She was white-faced and
panting
, kneeling against one of the kitchen chairs, clutching its seat.
‘Are you OK?’ Allegra rushed to her side, her eyes anxious.
Imogen groaned as another spasm gripped her, her whole body shaking with the force of the contraction. It seemed to go on for long minutes. When it had passed, she looked drained and scared. ‘It’s happened so suddenly,’ she panted to Allegra. ‘One moment it was all lovely and calm, and the next … They’re coming so fast, only a minute or two apart! And it’s so painful, I think I’m going to be sick. Can this be right? It’s awful! How am I going to stand it?’
‘I’ll ring the hospital,’ Allegra said, panicking and looking for the phone. ‘Then I’ll call an ambulance.’
‘No, no, that will take too long. It will be quicker if you drive me.’ Imogen looked up with terrified eyes. ‘Can you do that?’
‘Of course I can. I’ll get your bag.’
‘Oh, God, it’s coming again … Oh no, no, I don’t like it …’ Imogen let out a huge moan of pain as she was gripped again by a fierce contraction.
Allegra ran upstairs, fighting to keep calm and rebuking herself for not insisting they should go to the hospital as soon as she returned. What if Imogen had her baby in the car? What if she, Allegra, had to deliver it? She’d gone to some of Imogen’s ante-natal classes but she was definitely not prepared to be a midwife. She rushed to her friend’s room and picked up the bag that was waiting by the window.
Downstairs, Imogen was doubled up over the chair again, groaning with agony.
‘Can you make it to the car?’ Allegra asked urgently, trying to hide her anxiety.
‘When this one’s gone,’ panted Imogen. A moment later her face cleared and she said, ‘OK, it’s gone.’
Allegra helped her up and they went as fast as they could to the front door, down the front steps to her car.
‘Shit!’ Allegra said crossly. ‘It’s just not designed for a pregnant person.’ There was no way Imogen was going to squeeze into the front seat of the sleek but small Jaguar convertible. ‘You’ll have to lie on the back seat.’
Imogen clambered in just in time for the next contraction. Her face contorted and she moaned loudly.
‘Are you sure we shouldn’t call an ambulance?’ cried Allegra, panicking again.
‘Just get me to the hospital!’ Imogen groaned. ‘Please, Allegra, I’ve got to get there … right now!’
The journey to the Portland was mercifully quick. The hospital was only on the other side of Regent’s Park and they pulled up in less than ten minutes. To Allegra’s huge relief, Imogen was soon in the care of nurses and on her way to one of the delivery suites where a midwife was waiting.
‘Are you going in? Are you her birth partner?’ the receptionist asked, after Allegra had given all the necessary details.
She nodded. ‘Yes, I’ll go in. She needs me. There isn’t anyone else.’
The midwife told Allegra afterwards that Imogen’s delivery had been very trouble-free and extremely fast. Allegra thought that a quick and easy delivery seemed bad enough: for three hours Imogen was shaken by contractions every minute. She sucked at the gas-and-air the midwife offered, but it didn’t seem to make any difference to the pain that gripped her. Allegra tried to help as best she could but, beyond offering Imogen cups of sweet cordial to drink, there
was
nothing she could do. Her friend seemed to have retreated to another place, and she didn’t want to be spoken to or touched.
The midwife was calm and cheerful, encouraging her and checking the baby’s heartbeat every few minutes. Then Imogen entered a quiet period when labour seemed to ease off and she appeared to be asleep.
Then it started again, now with an elemental, animal quality as her belly seemed to take control and move visibly, pressing down with each great contraction.