Chapter Seven. Annabel’s house was spacious and restful, not the least bit like a holiday place

Annabel’s house was spacious and restful, not the least bit like a holiday place. It was full of books, ornaments and pictures and the wooden furniture looked old and loved.

“Wow. Do you actually live here all the time? ” Cody asked, taking in worn Persian rugs and huge potted palms.

“No, but my aunt does… did.”

“Is your aunt—”

Annabel responded flatly. “She died recently.”

“I’m really sorry.” Cody wondered if she should change the subject as people did when someone had died. Instead, because she wanted to know more about Annabel and her family, she asked, “Were you close? ”

“Yes, later in her life we were. She left me this house. Can I get you another drink? ”

“Just a little. Champagne goes straight to my head.” Besides, Cody noticed, Annabel had barely touched her own glass.

She allowed her gaze to drift across the striking woman at the other end of the sofa. Annabel wore a white shirt tucked into faded old Levis, and her hair was pulled back into a French plait, a mixture of casual and formal that suited her perfectly. The only jewelry she wore were a tank watch and a heavy gold signet ring.

“Have you always lived in Boston? ” Cody asked.

The bright lavender eyes lifted. “Pretty much. I made a bid to break out when I was eighteen. I told my parents I was going to college at the University of California in Berkeley. You would have thought I’d just taken shares in Sodom and Gomorrah. Mother had a migraine for a week. Anyway my bid for freedom was short-lived and I ended up at Radcliffe where they could keep an eye on me. I was a real wimp back then.”

“I find that hard to believe, ” Cody said.

Annabel shrugged. “Sometimes I get frustrated when I look back at my twenties. It feels like such a waste of time. I can’t believe how stupid I was.”

“Do you mean not realizing you were a lesbian sooner? ”

“I suppose so. And I had some issues around my appearance.” Annabel twisted her signet ring. “People tended to treat me as a curiosity—it’s hard to cope with that when you’re a kid. I thought it meant I was ugly and for a long time I allowed this to limit me. Even now, it doesn’t matter what anyone says or how much I intellectualize it, I still get paranoid.”

“But you’re stunning, ” Cody blurted. “I’ve never seen anyone quite like you.” She found herself transfixed by Annabel’s perfect mouth, the hollow of her throat.

“I wasn’t fishing for compliments, ” Annabel said a little stiffly.

Embarrassed, Cody dragged her attention away. “I meant what I said, Annabel. You’re beautiful. I’m… I think you’re very attractive. I mean—” Blushing, she broke off and recklessly poured herself another glass of champagne.

There was only one way a conversation like this could end up. She wished suddenly that it had never begun. She hated playing games. It all seemed so farcical. Either she was going to bed with Annabel or she wasn’t. And if she wasn’t, it was time to leave—only she didn’t want to yet.

Something of her confusion must have showed. In a warmer tone, Annabel said, “Well, thank you. As you can probably tell, the attraction is mutual.”

With the watchfulness of a lioness, she poured yet more champagne into Cody’s glass and relaxed back in her corner. She seemed very much in control, her predatory self-assurance disquieting. After this drink she would leave, Cody decided. She gulped another large mouthful of the rich amber-toned liquid, letting the bubbles pinprick their way into her senses.

“This is great champagne, ” she said, staring into her glass, suddenly engrossed in the effervescence. A warm rush weakened her legs.

“My aunt kept a spectacular cellar, ” Annabel said. “We’re drinking a fifty-nine Dom Pé rignon.”

This meant little to Cody, whose knowledge of wines was confined to choosing red instead of white for steak. But she could tell from Annabel’s tone that it must be something a bit special, so she said, “Wow.” Not exactly a suave response. To her dismay this made her giggle and she hastily set her glass down, attempting to gather her scattering wits. “Oh dear, ” she said, “I think I’ve had enough.”

Cody seldom drank alcohol, having learned the hard way that she made her worst mistakes after a few drinks. She thought about Margaret and how tempting it had been to head for a bar and stay there, obliterating the feelings. It’s Margaret who needs the lobotomy, not you, Janet had said.

Cody wondered what time it was and whether it was too early to leave. She felt as though she’d only been with Annabel for a short while. The meal had been wonderful and their conversation easy and comfortable. Until now.

“You look tired, ” Annabel interrupted her thoughts. “Would you like to lie down for a few minutes before you walk home? ”

Cody found herself nodding before it dawned on her that this was the oldest trick in the book, and here she was falling for it hook, line, and sinker. All the same she allowed herself to be led into a dimly lit room and guided toward a large futon bed. There were candles around the walls and their golden halos blurred and danced before her eyes.

“Annabel...” she began, but a finger was placed on her lips and the other woman drew her down onto the edge of the bed.

“Relax.” She slid her hand through Cody’s hair and around to massage the back of her neck. “You’re very tense, ” she commented, probing the stiff tendons.

Cody wished she could think of something sophisticated to say. Annabel’s fingers kneaded the tight muscles around her shoulders in a hypnotic rhythm. It felt delicious. Cody allowed an arm to drift around Annabel’s waist, turning to face her. In the haze of the candlelight, she looked soft and golden, like a goddess strayed to earth. She lifted a tentative hand to Annabel’s cheek, then to her plait, gently loosening it. Like a web, the fine, silky hair clung to her fingers. She pulled out the pins, letting it spill down over Annabel’s shoulders.

Cody was aware of her T-shirt being eased out of her jeans, of Annabel’s hands caressing her back, drawing her closer. Her stomach hollowed and goose bumps crept across her flesh where Annabel explored. She closed her eyes and her head spun. She wanted to say something but the words wouldn’t form. You’re drunk, a distant voice reminded her.

Annabel lowered her onto the bed and Cody did not resist. She felt a mouth on her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, and savored the sensations. When her T-shirt was deftly removed, she opened her eyes and focused dazedly on her surroundings.

This was not her room, she thought in a mental fog. The hands stroking her were unfamiliar. She stared up at Annabel and fell short of breath. Almost of their own accord, her muscles tensed. Annabel, this is Annabel. A woman she had only met two days ago. They were here in her room making love. This was not Margaret.

Hot tears stung and her lips trembled. She pushed her hands against Annabel and elbowed herself back into sitting position, head spinning. This was not how she wanted it to be. She wanted… she didn’t know what she wanted. “I can’t, ” she stammered jerkily, covering her breasts.

Annabel drew back. “Are you okay? ”

Cody wet her lips. Avoiding Annabel’s eyes, she lowered her head. “I just can’t do this, ” she said miserably. “I’m sorry.”

She moved to get off the bed, but Annabel prevented her, taking her gently but firmly into her arms. “No, I’m sorry, Cody. I was taking a lot for granted.” She cupped Cody’s cheek and gazed into her eyes.

Cody could feel her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a sob. Somewhere inside a voice persecuted her. Fool, you want her don’t you? What’s the matter with you. Quit that whimpering. Embarrassed, she looked away, trying to hide her tears.

Annabel trailed a finger down Cody’s wet cheek, then licked the moisture off it. “Don’t cry. There’s no harm done. It’s just too soon. I can understand that.”

“I feel so stupid, ” Cody said, angry with herself. “It’s been more than a month and I just don’t seem to be getting over it at all. I can hardly think about her without crying and I can hardly think of anything else.” Feeling sluggish with drink and emotion, she sagged against Annabel, permitting herself the comfort of her embrace.

“Are you still in love with her? ”

Cody shook her head adamantly. “No.” Of that, at least, she was certain. “I did love her. I thought we were going to grow old together. All that stuff. But now, when I look back… it’s like something changed. I’m not sure when.” Probably around the time Margaret started seeing men.

“Relationships go through stages. At some point the honeymoon period ends.”

It was more than that, Cody thought. There were so many tiny things she had never added together. If she were really honest, she knew her feelings for Margaret had undergone a transformation during their last year together. It was as if her love had been eroded into little more than a sentimental attachment to the future they always talked about sharing. Having Margaret in her life had become a habit. It made no sense to be this upset over losing a partner she was no longer in love with.

“What’s her name? ” Annabel asked.

“Margaret, ” Cody said into her shoulder.

“Want to tell me about her? ”

Cody turned her head, one cheek cushioned against Annabel’s breast. She could hear the regular thud of her heart and smell that familiar scent—vanilla, but not quite. Annabel stroked her head. Her touch was tender and soothing.

“I met her on a holiday job in my final year at University.” Cody closed her eyes. “Strawberry picking. It was so hot and everything was sort of sticky and juicy. I had this enormous bucketful ready to weigh and she was lugging hers up to the station. My bucket wasn’t where it should have been and she tripped over it.” Cody half chuckled, half hiccupped. “There were strawberries everywhere.”

“Very kinky, ” Annabel remarked lightly.

“We had this huge fight...a physical fight, and well...we both got the sack.”

“Obviously a match made in heaven.”

Cody had thought so. “We started going out, and a few months later we moved in together. That was nearly five years ago.”

“Five years, ” Annabel raised her eyebrows. “You really were married then.” She paused. “What happened? ”

Cody braced herself. Every time she tried to say the words they eluded her, froze on her lips like little stones. She hadn’t even been able to tell Janet.

Annabel had pulled back slightly, her expression calm and attentive. “You don’t have to tell me, ” she said. “It just might help if you did, that’s all.”

Cody met her eyes and saw in them only warmth and genuine caring. No games. Maybe the alcohol had loosened her inhibitions or maybe it was just being here in a far-off world. Whatever the reason, the urge to unburden herself was irresistible.

“She left me, ” she said quietly. “There was… someone else.” The tears started again and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. “It happened so fast. One minute we were lovers and the next she was saying how she’d never felt truly happy with me and it was all over. She had met this person and they were soul mates.”

I have to leave you Cody, had been her exact words. I’d like us to stay friends but I’ll understand if you can’t. I still really care about you.

“Did you know the other woman? ” Annabel asked.

Hunching her shoulders, Cody shook her head. “It wasn’t a woman. It was a man, ” she heard herself say, suddenly aware of nausea rising.

“A man…” Annabel repeated blankly.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Head swimming, Cody donned her T-shirt and swung her legs off the bed. “I need some fresh air.”

Annabel took her hand and led her insistently to the front door. They walked out onto the verandah and stood in the moonlight while Cody drew deep breaths. Her cheeks tingled where a mild breeze made the tears evaporate. She felt mortified. “Sorry, ” she mumbled.

“Don’t be. I’m glad we talked.”

“I just don’t get it. I’m not even sure if I really loved her in the end. So why do I feel like this? ”

“Cody, this is a person you trusted and she betrayed you. That’s incredibly hurtful, whether you loved her or not.”

Cody nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Annabel was dead right. It was the betrayal that was making her crazy. How could the woman she had shared her life with for five years treat her with such contempt? Her throat tightened around a sob and she stared up at the crystalline stars, willing her head to clear. She felt dizzy and humiliated. Obviously, she had completely blown it with Annabel. A woman like her was not going to bother with an unemployed country girl boo-hooing over a broken relationship.

Determined to depart with some dignity still intact, she said. “I’m feeling better now.”

“Liar.” Annabel slipped an arm around her waist and helped her down the wooden steps. “I’ll walk you home.” With a trace of dry humor, she added, “Don’t worry—this too shall pass.”

Cody tried to take a step but the soft grass beneath her feet receded. Her legs felt like they were about to give way. I’m a mess, she thought retching slightly.

Annabel’s arm tightened around her. “On second thought, I have a spare bed. I think you should stay here tonight.”

“No. Really. I’ll be okay, ” Cody insisted. Even to her ears her voice sounded slurred.

“I don’t think so, ” Annabel said without inflection. “Come inside.”

“No! Please.” Cody broke free of her hold and started toward the track. “I want to be by myself.”

“Cody, stop! You’ll hurt yourself! ”

Cody was aware of Annabel coming after her, but she half ran, half tumbled down through the huge trees and onto the track. “Leave me alone, ” she protested, as a hand caught her by the arm.

In the dark cloister of the night, she could not make out Annabel’s expression but the anger in her voice was plain enough. “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you really want. But first I’m taking you home. Now shut up and walk.”