‘I think you had better leave,’ he said weakly. But in one swift movement she was astride him. She laughed again as she felt his excitement through his jeans.
‘You don’t want me to,’ she giggled, wriggling about on top of him. ‘You can’t hide lust, Florien.’
Florien was now so humiliated the only way to assert control was to take her brutally. He roughly grabbed her neck and kissed her. She responded triumphantly, turned on by his fury and his force. She knew the power of her allure but to have it proven in small conquests such as this never ceased to excite her. She didn’t care that she was stealing her sister’s fiancé, for no one else’s feelings meant anything to her. She thought only of her supremacy over Leonora and all the other women whose men she had stolen. She felt omnipotent and her mouth twisted into a conceited smile. She rose up on her knees to allow him to unzip his trousers and laughed with pleasure as he swept aside her panties and thrust inside her. Florien felt even more humiliated as she rode him hard, writhing about on top of him like a fiend. He couldn’t control her or the warm, tingling feeling that conquered his limbs and drugged his mind so that he was aware only of the climax ahead and an overpowering desire for Alicia. She had wrapped her arms around his head so that his face was now buried in her breasts, which dripped with sweat inside her white shirt. He inhaled her scent and ran a tongue over her skin, tasting salt and perfume and something animal that belonged exclusively to her. Only after it was over did he feel guilty. But the arm of the combine was out and he was compelled to start up the tractor and drive unsteadily across the field. He looked back to see Alicia skipping happily over the stubble towards her car, her long brown legs shining beneath her blue mini skirt and her curls bouncing in the breeze. His heart was still pounding and his groin ached. His body was satisfied but he felt a tremendous wave of guilt and remorse.
As Alicia drove up the track towards the main road she spotted Aunt Cicely coming the other way, having been to the village shop to drop off the new-laid eggs. She pulled over on to the grassy verge to allow her aunt to pass. She bit her lip, hoping that she wouldn’t stop to talk. But when Aunt Cicely saw her she stalled the car and threw open the door. Alicia took a deep breath.
‘I think you’ve got some explaining to do, young lady,’ said Aunt Cicely crossly. Alicia was struck at how her aunt had aged for she stared at her with the hooded eyes of an old woman.
‘If it’s about Marcel . . .’
‘Of course it’s about Marcel!’
‘I didn’t ask him to come out to France, he just turned up on the beach,’ said Alicia, shrugging her shoulders.
‘He turned up in France?’ Aunt Cicely gasped.
‘Don’t ask me, he was your lover. Look,’ she said in an almost patronizing voice, ‘he tried to seduce me on various occasions when I was living with you. I was a child, for God’s sake. I rebuffed him every time. The next thing I know is I’m on the beach in Antibes with my friends when he turns up, swearing undying love and all that nonsense.’
‘My Marcel?’
‘Yes, your Marcel.’ She sighed wearily. ‘I told him to go home. I didn’t want him.’
‘So what did he do?’
‘I don’t know. I assumed he’d come back here to you.’
Cicely hesitated and stared out across the fields. ‘I’m sorry he’s gone,’ said Alicia. ‘But I assure you his departure had nothing to do with me.’ Aunt Cicely thought of the painting that now had a brutal hole in the place where Alicia’s face had once smiled out.
‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized tightly. She didn’t trust Alicia, but Marcel was an artist, fantasy was his job. She had no alternative but to give her niece the benefit of the doubt. She looked down upon Alicia’s beautiful face. It was a cruel, unforgiving beauty. ‘I don’t suppose he said where he was going.’
‘No. But you don’t want him back, Aunt Cicely. He’s useless and I doubt his paintings were any good. Did you ever see any of them?’
‘Unfortunately I did,’ she replied. ‘He left one behind but it’s going on the bonfire as soon as I get my hands on some matches. Wonderful news about Leonora and Florien,’ she added, changing the subject. She noticed that Alicia betrayed a very unattractive smugness in the half-smile that crept across her face.
‘They’re perfectly suited,’ she said. ‘Leo’s always dreamed of being a gypsy and living in one of those hideously small caravans. You couldn’t swing a cat in them. Still, if it makes her happy. Horses for courses and all that.’