“Why?”
“Well it turns out that Bill had seen the baby the day before and gave the mother a prescription for paracetamol.”
Bill was an old-school, misogynist who filled in when they were short-staffed. He must be about seventy.
“And the Health Visitor was in tears.”
“Who? Shonagh?”
He nodded. I’d met her at last year’s Xmas party. Young, very pretty.
“So what happens now?”
“An inquiry, murder trial, newspapers. The works. After baby P, we’ll be dragged over the coals.”
“Surely it’s not your fault?”
When I first met Miles he was a paediatrician at Guy’s. If anybody knew about kids’ health, it was him.
“You need a gentle evening, Miles, and I have something in mind that will make you feel better.”
I have to concentrate on Miles. My worries about the exhibition will just have to take a back seat. For now.
Midnight
Too tired and full of sex … will write it all up tomorrow!
Day Four – Thursday 26th September
7.30 am
Woken bleary eyed and very tired. The cup of tea on the bedside table is still warm and I vaguely remember Miles kissing me goodbye. He has left a rose on the pillow. How sweet! I feel quite guilty when he has to get up so early.
Last night … The dinner was excellent (I learned a few things from Laurent’s housekeeper, Maria. She was a marvellous cook but then I found Laurent was enjoying more than just her culinary skills.) Miles relaxed as the wine and the flavours caressed his mouth. Slowly he began to forget about the horrors of the day and we moved on to the sofa, lit some oriental candles, John Coltrane playing sax softly in the background … And I read him the story.
3. “Honeymoon Memories”
We stood on the hotel veranda, enjoying the colours of Sri Lanka, when we were both distracted by movement in the adjacent room. As the verandas were staggered, it was perfectly possible to see almost directly into their bedroom. An Asian couple were entwined in an embrace and as we watched, you drew me close and raised a finger to your lips. The beautiful woman was dressed in a sari of pale lilac and he wore a dark purple velvet jerkin over black trousers. She untucked an edge of the sari and placed it in his palm without taking her eyes from his and slowly she began turning, slender arms raised high, long-fingered hands drawing shapes in the air, the chiffon unravelling as she spun in a passionate, symbolic dance.
In the heat of the afternoon it was hard to tell if our mutual perspiration was due to the temperature or the scene we were witnessing through the patio doors. I could feel your arousal and our breathing became fast as the beauty of the woman was slowly revealed. Her coffee coloured breasts rose and fell, encased in a white lace bodice and she offered them to her man as the finale to the dance was played out. He buried his head in her loveliness and she immediately drew away in a teasing bow of powerful dominance from his pleading, outstretched arms. The second part of her sari was still intact and we both held our breath as she once more began twirling whilst he held the soft fabric and we watched it fall away little by little leaving her long, brown legs exposed. She now stood in a white lace ensemble which he tore away in a show of his own dominance. By then we were wrapped in our own embrace, completely involved in this love-making spectacle.
Tenderness took over and the Asian man laid his naked lady gently down on the rug, entering her with such precision and delicacy, we were moved to sighing. As she reached her climax, we watched enthralled and were frantic to begin our own lovemaking, just as she glanced in our direction and gave a wink – she’d known all along that we were watching.
We walked off the white sand beach hand-in-hand to make our afternoon massage appointment. The room was cool with the sound of the sea crashing on the rocks in the background and views of the turquoise ocean from every aspect. We removed each other’s beachwear and stood under a cool shower. As soon as we stepped out we were wrapped in soft white, fleecy towels by a handsome young man in his twenties and a dark-skinned masseuse about the same age. We donned robes and sat in comfy wicker loungers to begin the head massage with almond oil – the boy for me and the girl for you. You reached across and stroked my hand as we drifted in and out of light sleep.
We then lay face down for the body massage and I sensed you were enjoying those delicate yet strong hands easing their way down your spine in slow circular movements. I too felt excited by the firmness of the pressure and the intense aroma of the oils as practised hands moved their way slowly down my legs.
At some point – you must have waited until I was completely subdued by the ambience of this relaxing retreat – you quietly took over from my masseur. I felt hands smoothing the inside of my thighs with a greater intensity, teasing that place just below my buttocks. I turned my head to see you naked, your erection sliding easily up and down between my legs, a grin as wide as a Cheshire cat on your beautiful face. You slipped easily inside me and I remember the intensity of us climaxing together with the sound of those crashing waves audible. We sheepishly beat a retreat, running past the giggling masseurs down to the waiting salty sea; I felt happier than ever before in my life and you told me you felt the same.
The following day dawned, beautiful and sun-drenched. We decided to walk and the tree-lined lane offered all the shade you needed to walk and enjoy this remarkable place.
A woman was bent over tending the garden of her little abode and we both breathed in deeply, relishing the scent of rosemary, lemon and thyme, so fresh in the heat. She nodded her head as we passed and beckoned us in, offering a sprig of thyme to me and a hibiscus flower to you, the colour of which was somewhere between apricot and gold:
“Sit in my garden, I bring you mint tea, rest a while.”
The smell of incense emanated from the house as she swung the door and I felt a sense of welcoming peace. We kissed like teenagers, exploring tongues and teeth in between giggles. Your hand moved to the flimsy blouse I wore and oh so gently you pushed against the side of my nipple, back and forth until I felt the juices flow and the hardness of your prick against me. As our hostess returned, we straightened up and took a breath.
“Cooling balm” she said, demonstrating how to rub it lightly on your neck and wrists. “And mint tea for refreshment.”
We offered our thanks, and payment, but she wanted nothing – “just the joy of watching two young people in love” she smiled and disappeared inside the bungalow.
I can feel the freshness of the buttery balm now – you began at my neck and teased each nipple, over and over until I gasped and thrust your hand ’neath my skirt to rub your creamy-tipped fingers inside my yielding, fulsome lips. My eyes must have shown my pleasure because you kissed me with a tenderness I will never forget and I fell into your arms sated and willing.
… I was wrapped in Miles’ arms and he kissed the top of my head.
“That was amazing Beth, I feel as if I’m back there again with you.”
“Come on Miles, I want to give you a massage.”
I had no idea how to do it but I was going to try my best.
He laughed but didn’t resist as I took his hand and led him through to the bedroom. Candles still wafted their cinnamon and ginger vapours and I had draped a beautiful silk sari over the bed, which shimmered in the dusky light. He let me take off his clothes, like a child, allowing me to undress him and I laid him down. I spread some oil on my hands and slowly massaged his shoulders, his