her hands round Phil’s neck. Stroking, touching, experiencing the sensation of the other’s skin beneath their fingertips, reacquainting themselves, confirming that they were both real, that this was actually happening once more.
Pressure increased, bodies pressed closer together. Fingers became more confident, more probing. Passion, need became urgent. Breathing came in harder, shorter gasps. Hands roved, explored, found buttons and zips, began undoing.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ Marina said, her words gasped, whispered.
They pulled apart reluctantly, not wanting to separate but wanting to take it to the next level. Phil stood, Marina came with him. Hands, mouths still locked. They stumble-walked up the stairs.
Into the bedroom. Phil turned on the bedside light.
‘No,’ Marina said. ‘Keep it dark.’
‘I want to see you… look at you…’ His hands were on her again, finding clasps, zips. Uncovering her shoulders, his mouth tracing down her neck, kissing her bared skin. Marina gasped. His hands moved further, pushing her top from her body. She helped him, responded. Pulled out his shirt, began unbuttoning. He shrugged it off, was naked to the waist. She did likewise with her top.
Phil smiled, lifted one bra strap, then the other, easing them down her arms, unclasping it from behind. He looked at her, drank in her nakedness in the half-shadowed room.
He smiled. ‘You’re beautiful.’
She smiled in response, then began unbuckling his belt. Remaining clothes and footwear were stripped in a blur. Naked, they held each other, feeling the sensation of each other’s body through their own skin. Kissed once more, then pulled apart. Phil took Marina in once more: the shape of her breasts, the colour of her nipples, the way she had trimmed her pubic hair, her soft thighs. Her belly perhaps curved more than he remembered it. It didn’t matter. She did the same for him: his broad shoulders, lightly haired chest, strong thighs, his penis, hard for her. She smiled.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said once more.
‘So are you.’
Time froze. It was a moment both had fervently wanted but neither had believed would ever happen again. It felt so right, so comfortable. But beyond the passion, they were both terrified. It was more than just sex. They both knew that. It was a line. Once it was crossed, neither could retreat back over it.
‘I love you.’ The words were out of Phil’s mouth before he could stop them.
‘I know. Don’t let me down.’
‘I won’t.’
The line had been crossed.
They moved to the bed.
Together.
59
Marina heard voices. Strong, opinionated voices. Her eyes jolted open and for a few seconds she didn’t know where she was. Then, as a lost piece of jigsaw completes a whole picture, she remembered. Phil’s bed. The radio alarm clock had just gone off, Radio Four’s
They had made love another three times, eventually drifting off to sleep some time in the early hours. It had been beyond what she remembered, beyond what she had imagined: intense and sacred at times, hot and filthy at others. But always physically and emotionally satisfying. She had drifted off to sleep with Phil’s arms encircling her. She had felt safe. Coming back to Phil’s house had been the right decision.
Now she lay there, letting the voices from the radio wash over her. It was familiar, the same show she woke up to at home.
Home.
She thought about Tony. She had phoned him as they left the crime scene, telling him she wouldn’t be back, giving him an excuse about pulling an all-nighter to work on the latest murder. He had been his usual understanding, reasonable self, asked her if there was anything she wanted, anything he could do to help. She had felt guilt at those words. But not because she wanted to be with him. Just because he was so good to her. Like a father should have been. She thought of the cottage in Wivenhoe. Not warm and comforting, just hot and enclosing. Maybe it was time to leave home.
She turned over, stretched out her arm, expecting to feel Phil. Nothing. His side of the bed empty. Opening her eyes once more, she sat up, looked around. Just in time to see the door open and Phil enter carrying two mugs of coffee – freshly brewed, from the smell. He crossed to the bed, placed one on the table at her side, one on his own, took off his dressing gown and slid, naked, back under the sheets with her.
‘Thought you’d gone to work without me,’ she said, smiling.
‘As if I’d do that,’ he said. He took a mouthful of coffee.
She took a sip. Lovely. Milk, no sugar. Just as she liked it. She replaced it. ‘You remembered how I take it.’
He frowned. ‘Why should I forget?’
Warmth spread inside her at his words. He had always been a good listener. ‘Why should you?’
The smile lingered on his face as he turned and looked at her. His eyes began to travel down her body.
‘We haven’t got time,’ she said.
He gave a mock sigh. ‘I know.’
A thought struck her. ‘Should we go in to work together or separately?’
‘Nobody else’s business.’ He placed the mug on the bedside table, lay back. ‘Does it bother you, what people might say?’
‘Does it bother you?’
‘Did last time. The gossip. What people were thinking, what assumptions they were making.’
‘And now?’
He looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps for the investigation. If anyone tries to use this as an excuse for us not getting results, it would bother me. But other than that, no, I don’t care.’
She snuggled in to him. ‘Good.’
They lay there in silence for a while, both sleep-and-sexhungover, comfortable in each other’s silence.
‘So,’ he said eventually, ‘what happens next?’
‘I’m going to leave him,’ Marina said. The words, said aloud, surprised her. Like an idea made real by speaking it. She hadn’t known that that was what she was planning until she said it.
‘For… for me?’
Silence once more. Then, from Marina, ‘Let’s see.’
Phil nodded. Said nothing. Eventually looked at his watch. ‘We’d better get going.’ He threw back the duvet, got out of bed. Found his dressing gown once more. ‘You want the shower first?’
‘No, I’m okay.You go.’
He started to walk to the door, turned before he reached it. ‘I… look. I meant what I said. Last night. I won’t let you down.’
‘Good.’
‘Right.’
And he left the bedroom.
Marina reached for her coffee, took another mouthful. Replaced it. Sighed. She heard the sound of the shower. She stroked her stomach, felt the baby moving inside her. Thought of other conversations she had to have with Phil.
She finished her coffee, then got out of bed. It would all have to wait until later.
She had a monster to catch.
