Read Online The Lessons by Naomi Alderman - Free Book Online Page B

to our room. She lay on the bed and was instantly asleep. I covered her with a blanket and sat by her for a minute or two.
    She muttered something. I leaned closer.
    ‘What’s that?’
    She sighed and said again, ‘You’re so beautiful.’
    She rolled over and wrapped her arm across my leg. I sat perfectly still and after a few minutes her breathing became steady and even.
    Downstairs, the party was winding to its conclusion. Emmanuella was lying on the sofa in the yellow salon, her dress bunched up around her thighs. Mark was on the floor by her side, singing a French song, a children’s lullaby, softly.
    Simon was sitting in the large red leather armchair, feet up on the coffee table, puffing thoughtfully at a cigar.
    ‘Had to carry Franny up to bed,’ he said. ‘Completely overcome by the alcohol. Of course, it hasno effect onme, nonewhassoever.’
    Mark smiled, then broke off singing to say, ‘He did carry her, you know. Quite astonishing.’
    ‘Always happy to help a lady. ’Cept if she’s being sick. I remember once, she spewed up so much that …’
    Emmanuella sat up abruptly.
    ‘If it has reached the time for the vomit tales, I also must go to bed.’
    ‘Quite right,’ said Mark, ‘quite right. No sort of stories for a lady.’
    ‘I wonder, James,’ said Emmanuella, ‘whether you would be kind and escort me to bed?’ She exchanged a look with Mark, a look I could not quite understand. A meeting of eyes, like the sealing of an agreement.
    She took my arm. Her perfume had mellowed over the evening, combining with the wine to become an amber glowing scent, rich and honey-dropped. I found myself wondering, without intending to do so, whether she smelled like this inside her clothes. Whether it was perfume at all, or just the warm brown scent of her skin.
    She led me slowly to her room on the first floor. I went to leave her at the door but she tugged on my arm and said, ‘No, no, I will fall without you. Take me to the bed.’
    There were fresh flowers in her room, jugs of white roses. Above the bed was a crucifix, the blood painted a wet red but the face serene. I looked away from it and noticed a small holdall by the bed and a book on the nightstand. She had known already that she would be staying, then. How much thought had gone into this apparently artless afternoon?
    Emmanuella sat down on the bed, took off her boots and stretched her stockinged toes. The counterpane was very smooth and white. She patted it, inviting me to sit by her. I sat down. She rested her head on my shoulder and ran her arm around my waist. I could feel the outline of her breast against my side.
    ‘Do you like me?’ she said, so low that I had to incline my head towards her to catch the words.
    ‘I … yes. Yes, I like you,’ I said.
    She snuggled closer.
    ‘I like you too. You are very handsome,’ she said.
    She raised her head, brought it close to mine and, very softly, breathed into my ear. A thrill of pleasure went through me. I risked a mistake and moved my hand across her legs, squeezing her knee gently. She sighed.
    ‘Mark has told me so many good things about you,’ she said.
    Mark. Was it possible that this had been planned ? Had he guessed I liked her? Had he told her?
    Emmanuella bit my earlobe very gently. The sensation was exhilarating.
    ‘Close the door,’ she whispered.
    I stood up, walked to the door. Outside in the corridor the light was still on. To my surprise, at the far end of the passage, I could see the door to Simon’s room half ajar. Inside, Mark and Simon were sprawled on the gigantic four-poster bed, giggling. I looked back to Emmanuella. Her eyes were half-closed, her head nodding forwards. Is it to my credit or discredit that this alone convinced me?
    I walked back into the room, leaving the door open. I brushed the hair out of her eyes and pushed her back gently on to the bed. She sighed happily. I leaned forward and whispered, ‘Time for you to sleep.’
    She nodded, and wrapped