Errors of Judgment(54)

Tonight, however, those feelings had slipped away. The loss of that three thousand had returned to haunt him, like an unrecovered debt that he had to call in. And today Henry, bursting with cheerfulness, had given him the news that the one hundred and twenty thousand pounds he was owed by solicitors for his work on a four-week trial last November had finally been paid. One hundred and twenty K! The most he’d ever earned on a case. It gave him every reason to celebrate. He’d agreed to go to see Barry in his first gig at the Comedy Store this evening, but after that he decided he would head to Blunt’s and see if he couldn’t make good the losses of the week before. Where was the harm? He wouldn’t go wild. Just recoup the three thousand, put himself back in the black, and never gamble such ridiculous sums again. He could almost laugh at himself now, thinking of the way he’d got roped into staking such high sums. It wouldn’t happen again.

He was aware Leo was talking to him. ‘Sorry – what? I was miles away.’

‘Just asking if you’d like another.’

Anthony glanced at his empty glass. ‘No thanks. I’m meant to be in the West End in half an hour. My brother’s doing stand-up, would you believe. Have to show support.’ He rose, anxious to get away from Leo’s relaxed scrutiny, which always made him feel as though Leo could see into his very heart and soul.

Ten o’clock, and still no Vince. Felicity had spent the evening in a state of agitation. No point in hoping he wouldn’t come – even if he didn’t, he was bound to show up some other night. As the hours ticked by, she couldn’t settle to anything, not even making supper. She had no appetite. At a quarter to eleven, just when she was thinking of going to bed, he rolled up. She opened the door to the sound of the buzzer, and there was Vince, slouched against the door frame, dressed in a thick combat jacket over a black T-shirt, hands in his jeans pockets. His dark hair was shaggy, and he had two-day stubble. He flashed her a darkly charming smile and leant forward to kiss her lightly on the lips. To her surprise, he didn’t smell of alcohol or dope.

‘I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.’

Vince put out a hand and stroked her hair. ‘Would I let you down?’ He strolled past her and into the flat. The suggestion that this evening was her idea, and she’d be disappointed if he didn’t show up left her momentarily speechless. She closed the door.

Vince glanced around the living room, pulling off his jacket. His body had grown leaner and more muscular during his time in jail, and Felicity couldn’t help thinking how good he looked, narrow-hipped and broad-shouldered. She was aware of a little surge of lust, and tried to suppress it. It wasn’t something she wanted to feel right now.

Vince delved into his jacket pocket, held up a bottle of Smirnoff Blue Label, and set it down on the coffee table. Reaching into a second pocket, he produced a bag of dope and other paraphernalia.

Felicity sighed. ‘Vince, no. It’s not what this evening’s about.’

‘Oh? What’s it about, then?’ He came towards her. She realised she was standing defensively, arms folded. Gently he pulled her arms apart and drew her against him, and kissed her. It was such a long time since she’d been kissed in that way, she just let it happen, unable to resist. After a moment he let her go. ‘Come on, then – get the glasses.’

She fetched glasses, and Vince cracked the bottle open and poured the vodka. They sat together on the sofa, and Vince gathered Felicity into the crook of his arm. She didn’t resist. He smelt good, familiar, and she wanted to be at peace for a while. He started to talk about what he’d been up to since the day of Denise’s party. Felicity was barely listening, busy trying to work out when would be the best time to set things straight, to say the things Rachel had told her to say. Now, probably, before things went any further and he began to make assumptions. But somehow she couldn’t think of the words. She took long swigs of vodka, letting the warmth of it spread through her body, hoping it would inspire her with courage, unlock her tongue. But then Vince, tired of talking, began to kiss her again, fondling her in a lazy, proprietorial way. Felicity knew this was her moment, that she should stop this right now, explain to him that he wasn’t going to come in here and take her for granted like this … But, oh God, it felt so good, it had been such a long time, and she had to admit she liked being taken for granted. In fact, she liked being taken, full stop. She returned his kisses with a passion she had forgotten, helping his hands explore her body, unzipping his jeans and pushing up his T-shirt to run her hands over his warm, hard body.