Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

Eight

Eight

 Having persuaded Marcus to have the children for the night, Helen stepped out of the lift on the second floor of the Bellvue Hotel. They’d arranged to meet at seven o’clock. It was now half past. She tapped on the door.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were coming,” Steve smiled as she entered.

This was the first time they’d stayed in a hotel together. Their indiscretions had, until now, remained within the confines of Helen’s four walls. But a week previously, Steve had spontaneously announced that he’d taken the liberty of booking a ‘posh’ hotel room.

Helen, having yet to experience the miniscule splinter of a romantic bone within Steve’s body, hadn’t expected a great deal. Something on a par with a travel lodge, probably.

But as she’d driven along the extensive driveway leading to the hotel car park, passing the cherubs shooting arcs of water across a beautifully lit twenty foot pool, it had occurred to her that this may have been a gross misjudgement.

She tossed her holdall onto a chair and sauntered across to the queen size four poster bed. Steve handed her a glass of chilled bubbly champagne.

“Well,” she marvelled, absorbing the splendour that surrounded her, “this is a bit fancy, isn’t it?” She sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked her off shoes. “Mmm, very nice indeed.” She sank into the fluffy pillows and took a sip of champagne.

“What were you expecting?” laughed Steve. “ATravel Lodge?”

“Well…”

“Oh, charming. It may not be all hearts-and-flowers with me, but I’m not completely hard boiled.”

“No, I can see that,” she smiled, glancing around the room. “I mean, rose petals on the bed, floating candles, champagne on ice.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed. ”All this certainly does get one in the mood.”

“Well then,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt, “might I suggest that ‘one’ lays back and prepares to be fucked.”

“Did you know Adrian’s back?” Helen asked suddenly.

“Er, yeah. Ben mentioned it. But I’ve got other things on my mind just now.”

“And did you know,” she went on, propping herself up on one elbow, “that Amy and Ben have gone out with him tonight?”

“And Becky, yes,” he said impatiently.

“You’re kidding!” she said, ignoring his advances as his hand worked its way into her top. “She’s going, as well? Oh well! It’s obvious what’s going on there, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is. She’s going to be having it away with him before you can blink - if she’s not already. D’you reckon she is?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Come on, Hel, I haven’t spent all this money to sit here talking about flaming Adrian.” He took her champagne glass out of her hand and placed it on the side table.

“Sorry, I know. It just winds me up the way...”

“Helen!” He pushed her back down onto the pillow, and before she had the chance to speak again, pressed his lips to hers.

 Amy gripped Ben’s hand tightly as they entered the pub. She scanned the bar, half hoping that he wouldn’t turn up. But he was there already, as was Becky. The two of them were seated at a table on the far side of the bar. As she glimpsed them, Amy felt a surge of anxiety sweep through her, culminating in the pit of her stomach.