The Last Letter from Your Lover(35)
Author: Jojo Moyes

“Drinks!” Jennifer called, wanting to get as far from him as possible. “Fight your way through, Reggie! Let’s get sloshed.”

She was dimly aware of a few looks of surprise as she passed her husband’s staff, many of whom had loosened their ties, their faces flushed with drink and dancing. Their eyes went from her to Laurence.

“Hello, Mrs. Stirling.”

She recognized the accountant who had spoken to her in the office a couple of weeks previously and smiled at him. His face was shiny with sweat, and he had an arm around a giggling girl in a party hat. “Why, hello! You couldn’t show us where the drinks are, could you?”

“Over there. By the typing pool.”

A huge vat of punch had been made. Paper cups were being filled and handed over people’s heads. Reggie handed her one and she drank the contents in one, laughing when its unexpected potency made her cough and splutter. Then she was dancing, lost in a sea of bodies, dimly aware of Reggie’s smile, his hand occasionally touching her waist. She saw Laurence watching her impassively from the wall, then, apparently reluctantly, engaged in conversation with one of the older, more sober men. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. She wished he would go home and leave her there to dance. She didn’t see Maureen again. It was possible the girl had left. Things blurred, time stretched, became elastic. She was having fun. She felt hot, raised her arms above her head, let herself ride the music, ignoring the other women’s curiosity. Reggie spun her around and she laughed uproariously. God, but she was alive! This was where she belonged. It was the first time she hadn’t felt alien in a world that everyone insisted was hers.

Reggie’s hand touched hers, shocking and electric. His glances at her had become meaningful, his smile knowing. Bear. He was mouthing something at her.

“What?” She pushed a sweaty lock of hair off her face.

“It’s hot. I need another drink.”

His hand felt radioactive on her waist. She followed close behind him, camouflaged by the bodies around them. When she glanced behind her for Laurence, he had vanished. Probably to his office, she thought. In it, the light was on. Laurence would hate this. He hated fun of any kind, her husband. Sometimes, these last weeks, she had wondered if he even hated her.

Reggie was thrusting another paper cup into her hand. “Air,” he shouted. “I need some air.”

And then they were out in the main hallway, just the two of them, where it was cool and silent. The sounds of the party faded as the door closed behind them.

“Here,” he said, steering her past the lift to a fire escape. “Let’s go out on the stairs.” He wrestled with the door, and then they were in the chill night air, Jennifer gulping it as if to quench a great thirst. Below them she could see the street, the odd car’s brake lights.

“I’m soaked!” He pulled at his shirt. “And I have absolutely no idea where I left my jacket.”

She found herself staring at his body, now clearly outlined by the damp fabric, and made herself look away. “Fun, though,” she murmured.

“I’ll say. Didn’t see old Larry dancing.”

“He doesn’t dance,” she said, wondering how she could say this with such certainty. “Ever.”

They were quiet for a moment, staring out into the darkness of the city. In the distance they could hear traffic, and behind them the muffled sounds of the party. She felt charged, breathless with anticipation.

“Here.” Reggie took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one for her.

“I don’t—” She stopped herself. What did she know? She might have smoked hundreds. “Thank you,” she said. She took it gingerly, between two fingers, inhaled and coughed.

Reggie laughed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, smiling at him. “I appear to be hopeless at it.”

“Go on anyway. It’ll make you lightheaded.”

“I’m already lightheaded.” She felt herself color a little.

“Proximity to me, I’ll wager,” he said, grinning, and taking a step closer to her. “I wondered when I’d get you alone.” He touched the inside of her wrist. “It’s pretty hard speaking in code, with everyone else around.”

She wondered if she’d heard him correctly. “Yes,” she said, when she could speak, and her voice was filled with relief. “Oh, God, I wanted to say something earlier. It’s been so difficult. I’ll explain later, but there was a time . . . Oh, hold me. Hold me, Bear. Hold me.”

“Glad to.”

He took another step forward and put his arms around her, pulling her close to him. She said nothing, just trying to absorb how it felt to be in his arms. He brought his face to hers, and she closed her eyes, ready, breathing in the male scent of his sweat, feeling the unexpected narrowness of his chest, wanting to be transported. Oh, but I’ve waited so long for you, she told him silently, lifting her face to his.

His lips met hers, and just for a moment she thrilled to their touch. But the kiss became clumsy, overbearing. His teeth mashed against hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth so that she had to pull back.

He seemed untroubled. His hands slid over her bu**ocks, pulling her so close that she could feel him pressed against her. He was gazing at her, eyes dulled with desire. “You want to find a hotel room? Or . . . here?”

She stared at him. It must be him, she told herself. Everything said so. But how could B feel so—so altered from what he had written?

“What’s the matter?” he said, seeing some of this pass across her face. “Too cold for you? Or you don’t want a hotel—too risky?”

“I—”

This was wrong. She backed out of his embrace. “I’m sorry. I don’t think . . .” She lifted a hand to her head.

“You don’t want to do it here?”

She frowned. Then she looked up at him. “Reggie, do you know what deliquescent means?”

“De-li—what?”

She closed her eyes, then opened them again. “I need to go,” she mumbled. Suddenly she felt horribly sober.

“But you like playing away. You like a bit of action.”

“I like a bit of what?”

“Well, I’m hardly the first, am I?”

She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, don’t play the innocent, Jennifer. I saw you, remember? With your other fancy man. At Alberto’s. All over him. I knew what you were saying to me earlier, making that reference to it in front of everyone.”