Read Online The Winter Folly by Lulu Taylor - Free Book Online Page B

nostrils. She noticed tiny dark hairs shuddering within the caverns. He was pushing his face closer to hers, and his
expression was changing from politeness to a kind of wolfish hunger. ‘You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?’ he said, his voice suddenly low. ‘You’re rather
wasted on Laurence. He’s never been a ladies’ man, never had the eye. Never been able to read those little flirtatious games you like to play.’ His rubicund face was approaching,
his eyes like those blue and yellow swirly marbles in the jar in her room. ‘But I can. You’re being very naughty, aren’t you? You know exactly what you’re doing.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, confused.
    He was breathing a little faster. ‘I like it, and you know it. I know about women. All you want is to excite a man and make him desire you. You’re damn well succeeding.’ He
thrust his face at her and reached out with his large red hands, pawing at her chest.
    Horrified and repulsed, she only knew she had to get out. She whirled around, heading for the dining room door. There was a fearful rent and she felt herself jerk back.
    ‘Christ!’ exclaimed Robert. She turned to see he was staring down at the floor, where his black shoes were standing firmly on a remnant of the train. He had torn it clean off. She
gasped, picked up her skirts and ran out of the room, leaving him there with the puddle of white silk at his feet.
    It had been almost a relief to leave after that. She’d run trembling to her room and slammed the door, leaning against it and biting her lip hard not to cry.
    He’s a beast, a beast!
she thought. The idea that she wanted to excite him, to make him pant and turn red like a fool, was ridiculous and hurtful. Was it because she was married
now? Was that why men might think she was teasing them? It was baffling and horrible. She looked around. The sight of her old books and pictures, and the suitcases standing by the door, the whole
place looking empty already, was almost too painful.
    I mustn’t tell Laurence
, she thought.
I know that would be very wrong. He might believe Robert, he might think I did want to . . . to . . .
She couldn’t quite
imagine what anyone might think she wanted to do with Robert. The idea of his face touching hers made her shudder. Pushing it out of her mind, she concentrated on taking off the spoiled dress, a
difficult task without help, and putting on her going-away costume: a blue wool dress and matching coat edged in white, with a small white hat and white pointed shoes. When she’d come down,
cold and calm, there’d been general amusement.
    ‘She can’t wait, old man!’ cried a male voice from the back, amid the laughing. ‘You’d better get on your way.’
    She’d stood there, awkward in her smart, grown-up clothes, and wondered why they were laughing. Then Laurence came up to her and twenty minutes later she was pressing her lips to her
father’s cold cheek and then Aunt Felicity’s powdery soft one, and they were saying goodbye. She glimpsed Robert Sykes in the crowd that came to wave them off with a cheer, and looked
away with a concealed shiver. Then the car roared away from the house and she was alone with her husband at last.
    ‘Mr and Mrs Sykes? Yes, I have the booking here.’ The lady, her hair set in lank curls that looked at least a fortnight old, peered through her glasses at the
register. ‘That’s right. Sea view. Room eight. Arthur will show you up.’ Then she shrieked loudly, ‘Arthur! Arthur! Come and carry some luggage.’ Her voice returned to
its normal tone as she said with a smile, ‘Honeymooners, are you?’
    Alexandra looked about. This was nothing more than a cheap seaside boarding house, the kind with pretensions to gentility, with gaudy old master reproductions on the walls, crocheted covers on
every surface and carpets that were tacky underfoot. Why had Laurence brought her here? Couldn’t he think of anything better than