Rosie Thomas 4-Book Collection: Strangers, Bad Girls Good Women, A Woman of Our Times, All My Sins Remembered. Rosie ThomasЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘of accompanying me to the Swann Ball tonight?’
Julia pretended to consider.
‘I might,’ she said at last. ‘I just might, at that.’
He nodded gravely, and offered her his arm. They swept out together.
There was a string orchestra that played Strauss waltzes, and polkas, and foxtrots, and a wide, shining dance-floor. Julia had giggled as Josh led her out on to it. There was no bebop and certainly no rock and roll, but Josh had been properly brought up and he knew the right steps to the right dances. Julia only had to let him whirl her in grandiose circles.
She felt that she had stepped, satisfyingly, into one of her own dreams.
There had been a wonderful banquet at the hotel. They had sat down at long white tables glowing with candles in branched candelabra. After the food and wine there had been speeches, speeches that had seemed funny even to Julia. There had been a toast to the race winners, a special toast to Josh that had made her glow with pride all over again. Julia was wearing Mattie’s greeny-black party dress, far too big for her around the hips and bosom, but Belinda and Sophia had pinned and stitched her into it in the latest demonstration of their new-found friendship. Julia had received enough flattering glances and invitations to dance to make her feel that even if she didn’t belong she could at least cope on her own terms. The champagne was flowing, but Julia was used to drinking at Jessie’s and Mattie’s pace, and the wine simply made her feel that she was floating on a warm tide of happiness.
And there was Josh. Josh with his black bow tie and his white starched shirt, his blond hair watered so that it lay smooth and dark, as correct as any of the Englishmen. Yet somehow wicked as well. The hero and the villain, infinitely more intriguing, all at once.
Julia laid her head against his black shoulder and sighed.
She knew that it was the most perfect evening of her life.
Josh lifted her chin with one finger so that he could look at her. ‘Are you tired?’
‘No. I want to go on dancing for ever.’
‘Mmm. Not quite for ever, perhaps. D’you remember that place that Harry took us to? The night we met?’
Julia remembered it, and she remembered how they had danced then, fused together, making a promise that was still unfulfilled.
The thought struck a white-hot bolt of longing straight through her.
Her feet tangled with Josh’s and they stood still in the swirling sea of dancers.
‘I think we should go upstairs now,’ Josh whispered.
Julia bent her head, unable to say, yes please, and he kissed the thin, warm skin over her temple before they slipped out of the crowded room and left the music soaring behind them.
They ran up the stairs and along the shadowy corridor to Josh’s room, laughing and whispering like children playing truant. But when he had unlocked his door and locked it again behind them the stillness and quiet stifled their laughter. There was a bright white moon in the star-prickled sky, and pale silver-grey squares lay over the floor in front of them. With Josh’s fingers wound in hers Julia went to the window and looked down. She saw the shallow roofs of the little wooden houses under their thick folds of snow. The streets were empty and the village lay in its silver cup with the mountains raising their heads against the stars.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ Julia said. And then, reaching awkwardly for the words, ‘I’m so happy tonight. It feels strange.’
‘It shouldn’t be so strange,’ Josh told her.
They turned away from the window and faced each other. They kissed, tasting each other out of hunger, suddenly greedy. It seemed a long time, infinitely too long, since the nightclub in London with Mattie and Harry Gilbert.
Josh’s hand touched the bodice of her dress.
‘May I?’ he asked, and she nodded. He couldn’t find how to undo it and she told him, ‘I’m stitched into it.’
Josh groaned and they were laughing all over again as they pulled at the dress. In the end they tore it off her. Julia stood in her stockings and suspenders while Josh looked at her. They had forgotten the cottage in the woods, and everything else except the grey and silver room, and this moment. Josh unhooked her stockings and rolled them down, and kissed the exposed white skin of her thighs. He kissed her belly, slowly tracing downwards with his tongue, and then he turned her around and touched his mouth to her shoulders and the long furrow of her spine.
Julia’s back arched. ‘Josh.’
He picked her up and put her on his bed. She sank down into the feathery Swiss mattress and the feather coverlet billowed luxuriously around her. She lay in her white nest, watching as Josh undid the ribbon of his black tie. He took the studs out of his shirtfront and the starched wings crackled. As he turned, barechested, Julia saw the vicious dark bruises down one side of his body. She jerked upright, her hair falling around her face, and he looked back at her. His face changed at the sight of her and she was suddenly almost frightened.
‘You’re hurt,’ she whispered.
He was beside her, leaning over her, and she felt the heat of him.
‘The snow fell on me,’ he told her. His mouth closed on her breast. Julia’s head dropped back and she shuddered. Josh struggled out of the rest of his clothes.
‘Isn’t it painful?’ Julia asked innocently. He leaned over her now, and she glimpsed the old, mocking Josh.
‘Tomorrow, I won’t be able to move. But tonight, who gives a goddam?’
He lay down beside her and they reached out for each other, smiling. It seemed very simple to Julia. There was only Josh, and Josh was all she wanted. Her arms locked triumphantly around his neck.
‘Are you sure you want to?’ Josh whispered. ‘The first time …’
‘It isn’t the first time. I went to bed with Felix. The day of Jessie’s funeral.’
He lifted his head to look at her. ‘Is that so? That surprises me, a little.’
‘We were both so sad. It was very sad too. It didn’t work very well.’ She thought of Felix, left alone in the flat waiting for his call-up. He seemed close, important. ‘But it made us better friends.’
‘I’m glad,’ Josh said.
She knew that he meant he was glad she was friends with Felix, that he didn’t have to take the responsibility for the first time, that she was here with him now. If there was anything missing, Julia willed herself not to notice it.
‘I think it will be better for you and me,’ Josh murmured.
His hands stroked her, teasing her, and there was no need to say any more. Julia closed her eyes and this time there was no interruption, nothing except the muffled, unheard music of the little string orchestra and the unseen silver light.
Josh was as thorough and as expert at love-making as at everything else. He was generous, too, and he found that his gentleness drew from Julia’s narrow body an intensity that he had never dreamed of.
Julia hardly knew her own body. Betty’s influence had been strong enough to make sure of that. But what Josh did seemed so natural, surprising at first and then essential. She was amazed to discover that he did it without embarrassment, only humour and tenderness, and she responded to him as he guided her. Their bodies wound together, shiny and supple, and the squares of moonlight crept over the floor.
In the Swann Hotel ballroom the violins played the last waltz and the English skiers joined hands for ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Julia and Josh didn’t hear the singing or the cheering.
At last, when he could lead her no further, Julia’s head fell back and she cried out, one long, silent cry. The discovery was made. The enormous simplicity of it, the depth of satisfaction,