hand.
Helen, having seen them off, stood on the balcony breathing in the heady smell of warm earth, frangipani, dust, and burning charcoal. Beyond the garden she could see the gleaming eyes of waiting animals. But the animals inside the house frightened her much more. Determined to break the spell, she went back into the dining room.
“Don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely exhausted.”
Rupert looked up, a long cigar clamped between his white teeth.
“Let’s have another drink,” he said, getting up and filling everyone’s glasses with brandy, “and then let’s go to bed,” he paused, “together.”
Helen laughed nervously. “Together?”
“Sure — why not?”
Janey got up, her eyes glittering. “Do we use your bedroom or ours.”
“I’d prefer a home fixture,” said Rupert. “And besides, our bed is bigger.”
He strolled over to Janey and began to kiss her. Frozen with horror, Helen watched him take her pink breast out of the white shirt and gently stroke it, then he undid the zip of her trousers. Helen shot a panic-stricken look at Billy, only to see him watching with fascinated pleasure.
Janey ran laughing into the bedroom. Giving a view halloo, Billy followed her. Rupert turned to Helen, holding out his hand.
“Come on, darling, or you’ll miss the first act.”
Helen looked at him aghast. “We can’t! what about the servants?”
“I sent them home hours ago.” He grabbed her arm.
At the bedroom door she balked. Billy, already undressed, was sitting on the bed drinking brandy, watching Janey and wearing Helen’s sun hat. He was roaring with excited laughter and had a huge erection. Janey was standing in front of the mirror, tossing her hair back, spraying Helen’s most expensive scent over her boobs, and jiggling them so they caught the light. Helen turned to bolt, but Rupert’s viselike grip on her arm tightened.
“No you don’t. Don’t be a fucking spoilsport. We might finally find out what turns you on.” Shoving her towards the bed, he turned the key and pocketed it. Turning to Billy, he added, “It’s harder than getting Snakepit into the lorry.”
Billy took off the sun hat and turned to Helen.
“Come on, lovie, it’ll be fun. No one’s going to eat you.”
“Everyone’s going to eat her,” said Rupert and, pulling down Helen’s panties and lifting her dress and her pink silk petticoat, he kissed her bush. As she wriggled frantically away, his hand clamped down on her bottom.
Across the room her eyes met Janey’s, which were mocking and slightly contemptuous.
“Come and help me undress her,” Rupert said to Janey.
As he peeled off the black dress and the petticoat, Janey undid the pink bra.
“Lovely underwear,” she said. “Did you get it at Janet Reger?”
Helen covered her pitifully small breasts with one hand, clasping the other over her bush.
“I can’t, I can’t,” she pleaded to Rupert in panic. “I truly can’t.”
“Don’t be so bloody wet,” he hissed. “Do you want to make me look a complete idiot. Here she is, all yours,” he added and, scooping her up, dropped her on the bed between Janey and Billy. The fastest trouser-dropper in the business, next minute he was on the bed beside Janey.
From then on it was a heaving anthill of legs and arms. Helen lay beneath Rupert, her eyes glazed, her hair coming down, as responsive as a corpse, aware that Rupert was fondling Janey’s breasts at the same time. Janey, determined to put on a virtuoso performance, climbed on top of Billy, bucking like a bronco, arching her back in pleasure, writhing and wriggling against Rupert’s hands.
Then they changed over and, despite shutting her eyes, Helen knew Billy was inside her. He was much solider and heavier, yet gentler than Rupert.
“I’m not hurting you, am I, angel?” he breathed in her ear, running his hands over her body. “You’re so beautiful. Please enjoy it.”
Helen didn’t respond, lying rigid with horror, her teeth clenched, eyes closed. Billy, her dear, dear friend. How could he do this to her? But Billy was watching Janey bucking on top of Rupert. God, she looked wonderful! He was so proud of her!
“I’m coming,” cried Rupert suddenly, his face contorting.
“So am I,” said Janey, screaming and threshing.
She might be faking, thought Billy, but it’s a lovely performance, and next moment he’d shot into Helen. Looking down, he saw two tears welling out of her closed eyes and coursing down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, angel. Please don’t cry.”
More tears welled.
Oh Christ, he thought. We shouldn’t have forced her. He rolled off, gathering her against him. Rupert gave Janey a long, long kiss, then eased out of her and said in an undertone, “See if you can get Helen going.”
“Move over,” Janey said to Billy, pushing him to the left of the bed. “Our turn now.” She trailed her fingertips up Helen’s thighs. Helen gave a moan of terror, shrinking away from Janey, eyes darting frantically for a way of escape. But, like bookends, Rupert and Billy blocked her exit.
“No, no, no,” she sobbed, as Janey’s insistent fingers started burrowing inside her, as she felt Janey’s breasts flopping on her stomach and Janey’s tongue on her breasts.
“Jesus,” Billy muttered to himself. “I’ll be off again in a minute.”
“Please don’t be frightened, Helen,” whispered Janey, as she caressed and stroked. “We’re all having such a good time, we want you to enjoy it too.”
I can’t go on forever, thought Janey, five minutes later. No wonder Rupert complains she’s frigid. She needs twenty-four hours’ defrosting. Rupert, bored with a spectator role, crawled down the bed and entered the slippery warmth of Janey from behind, so he could watch Helen. She looked like a martyr at the stake. Putting his hand around, he found that, despite Janey’s ministrations, she was as dry as a marathon runner’s throat.
She’s useless, he thought.
Suddenly, with Rupert behind Janey, Helen saw a way of escape. Shoving Janey to the left, she wriggled away from her and, before any of them had realized it, had jumped off the bed and stumbled across the room. In Rupert’s pocket she found the key.
“Come here,” he snarled.
For once she was in luck. In his excitement, Rupert hadn’t locked the door properly. Crying hysterically, she managed to slip out, slam the door, and turn the key, just as he crashed against it. She longed to run away into the night, but on the terrace the moon had gone in and everywhere was as black as ink. She heard the dry cough of a leopard and decided to settle for the third bedroom. There were no sheets on the bed. Huddled under the counterpane, gazing unseeingly at the bookcase, she shuddered until dawn. If her sleeping pills hadn’t been in the bathroom cupboard, which could only be reached by going through the bedroom, she would have taken the lot. Any minute she expected an enraged Rupert to appear and drag her back to the torture chamber.
But the others were enjoying themselves.
“The grown-up has gone to bed now,” said Janey.
“All hands on dick,” said Rupert, filling up the glasses.
Playing games of their own, they carried on till morning.
50
Ringing home next day, Helen discovered that Marcus was in bed with tonsillitis and a temperature of 103. She was so riddled with guilt that she felt so relieved there was a really good excuse to fly straight home by herself.
In recent months the tonsillitis attacks had been getting closer together. The antibiotics were having less
