So he’d taken note of what I’d said. Bah, I thought. He might think he could win the others over with his charm but not me. I put the card in the bin.
I retrieved it an hour later.
*
The following day there was to be a conference held in Bristol. Alec came into the kitchen. ‘Gail, I want you to go with Andrew and Rosie. Mitch will come with me.’
For a second, Gail’s tight self-control wavered. I could see she was disappointed, but she quickly pulled herself together and started fiddling with a briefcase.
‘And on the way, Mitch,’ Alec continued, ‘I want you to fill me in on all the personnel, starting with Gail.’ He gave her a cheeky grin.
She flicked her hair. ‘Oh you,’ she said coyly. She looked worried all the same.
Once in the car, Alec drove in silence until we hit the motorway. ‘Tell me about you,’ he said eventually. ‘What’s your story? How did you get involved? How’s it been for you?’
No one – apart from Rosie – had expressed any interest in my personal life or thoughts for years. With his encouragement, I told him about my life before joining the Rainbow Children, my family, my old friends, and how we’d drifted apart to the point of no contact now. I omitted the part about Jack and Sara Rose. I hadn’t told anyone about them, not even Rosie. Alec listened, asked questions, and seemed genuinely interested and friendly, and I began to think maybe I’d been wrong in judging him as arrogant. I was seeing another side of him. It was only when we got out of the car that I realized he knew almost everything about me but I knew nothing about him.
My impression of him only improved during the conference. I noticed how he went out of his way to acknowledge any effort anyone had made, something that had been sadly lacking up until his arrival. No one had been praised or singled out, and he had a way of making people feel that they were of value, with something to contribute. I could see he was winning himself a loyal team of supporters, and I was beginning to join their ranks.
On the way back, it was dark and wet outside. We roared up the motorway through the rain, a CD of Jean-Michel Jarre playing at full blast. I was seated low in the passenger seat, enjoying the sensation of sound and speed, watching the lights from cars and houses flash by. Suddenly I became aware of the proximity of him. His hand on the wheel, the scent of leather, his cologne – a masculine, woody scent. The atmosphere felt warm, erotic and intimate. I closed my eyes and imagined how it would feel to have the weight of his body on mine, him lying on top of me, nudging my legs apart with his so he could lie between. How would that feel? I wondered how the skin of his naked chest, hard, would feel against mine, soft. I—
‘I suppose people assume that we’re getting it on,’ he remarked.
I woke from my reverie. ‘What? Why? Why would anyone think that?’
‘Arrived together at the conference. Left together.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
He laughed. I was flustered and he knew it; he was enjoying my discomfort. I opened the window and let in air. Be careful, I told myself. I must never let go like that again. Nothing good could ever come from it. Although my impression of Alec had changed, I instinctively felt he was not a man to be trusted when it came to my heart. He struck me as the kind of man who liked the conquest, and he already had Gail and half the women in the communes in love with him.
We spent the rest of the journey in silence, and when we got back, I went straight to my room. Despite my warning to myself, it was too late; Alec’d got his hooks in. In the next weeks, I found myself listening out for him, for his car, his key in the front door. The air seemed brighter when he came into the office and I knew I perked up. The air felt charged if ever we were alone. I was over-aware of him, who he was talking to, who was waiting to see him; too aware of his physicality or proximity.
One morning, Gail told me he wanted to see me. I went into his room where he was lying on the bed, wearing a grey silk dressing gown open to his waist. Didn’t get that in the jumble, I thought as I looked away and studied the carpet. He was going through post, sipping coffee from a tray that Gail had brought up earlier. He motioned me to sit on the end of the bed.
‘Adam Sorkin’s returning for a brief visit,’ he said. ‘We need to make some space for him.’ I could feel the pressure of his bare leg against the fabric of my jeans as he spoke.
‘So you want me to move out?’ Actually, that would be a relief, I thought. I don’t think I can bear much more of this loaded atmosphere.
‘Only for a short time. So we won’t be living together but … hey, we probably would have done if it wasn’t for this saving-the-world malarkey, wouldn’t we?’ He looked directly at me and, as when we first met, I felt the sweet sensation of chemistry.
‘Wouldn’t we have what?’
‘Lived together. Don’t you think?’
I laughed. ‘Bit presumptuous, Alec. What makes you think you’d be my
