‘The money’s good. I’m a student, so I always need money. And it’s not exactly hard work.’
‘I would find it hard.’
‘You aren’t, you know, into that kind of thing.’ Poppy looked away, flushed. She suddenly felt very old and it wasn’t a good feeling.
‘If you were my daughter …’ he said.
‘I’m not. It’s my life. My decision.’
‘I wish I could take you away from it.’
Poppy was trying to devise a coherent response to this when two people came and sat down at the table opposite them.
One was Emma from the club, the other a gentleman Poppy recognised as the theatre critic, Peregrine Sands.
‘Poppy,’ said Emma, glancing at Bruno with a trace of steel in her eye. ‘Is this a friend of yours? Would you like to introduce us?’
‘This is Bruno,’ said Poppy, a sinking sensation of impending doom settling upon her stomach.
‘Hello, Bruno. I’m Emma and this is Mr Sands. How do you two know each other, then?’
‘We met in the club. It’s OK,’ blurted Poppy. ‘I know it’s allowed
.’
‘Yeah, it’s allowed,’ said Emma. ‘But it’s your first night, love. It’s her first night,’ she said again, for the benefit of Bruno. ‘She’s new. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.’
‘Bruno isn’t a punt—’ opened Poppy, but a kick on the ankle from Bruno silenced her.
‘That is up to Poppy, I think,’ he said, accepting a peanut from the packet Emma proffered. ‘If she wants to be friendly to me, that is up to her.’
‘You don’t have to, Poppy,’ said Emma. ‘But if you’re hellbent on it, how about we make it a foursome?’
Sands coughed. ‘Actually, Emma, I’m meeting Caroline for a late supper. I don’t have to worry about marking her. But thank you for the rather titillating idea. Who needs theatre when one’s life is so rich with dramatic colour?’
He rose and left.
‘I’m sorry, Poppy,’ said Emma, once he had gone. ‘But I’m just looking out for you. If you go with him, I go with you.’
Bruno’s posture was stiff and alert. Poppy wondered what he was plotting. Surely he wasn’t going to take Emma up on her offer? Surely the thing for him to do now was to make an excuse and bow out?
‘Perhaps you will like to come to my hotel for a drink?’ he said at last.
‘Good man,’ said Emma with a nod. ‘I won’t charge you for me if you don’t want me. If you like, I’ll sit in the bathroom while you two get down to things. But I’m not letting Poppy go alone. If you do want a threesome, though, I’ll have to charge you the market rate.’
In the cab on the way to Bruno’s hotel, Poppy felt numb and bemused. Bruno sat beside her while Emma took the front seat. He put his hand on her thigh and whispered into her ear, ‘Don’t worry.’ When he noticed Emma looking in the rear-view mirror, he turned the whisper into a nibble of Poppy’s earlobe.
She whispered back, ‘I’m scared. What are you doing?’
‘Nothing you don’t want. She is watching. I will have to kiss you. Do you mind?’
Poppy didn’t. The nearness of him gave her butterflies and their lips were already so close, nearly touching. The warmth and scent of him were exotic somehow, deliciously different.
He put an arm around her and pulled her into his lips. They kissed for the rest of the journey while the taxi stopped and started, the gears squeaked, and Emma made desultory conversation with the driver.
Poppy felt her apprehension turn to excitement. It was like being in a spy drama, having to keep Emma in the dark about the true nature of their relationship. There was a spice of danger that didn’t seem too real. Allyson was nice. The club was legitimate. Bruno had some funny ideas about it, but he didn’t understand, that was all.
She let her body twist and turn against his, let him press closer and allowed his hand to wander up and down her leg, stroking the nylon along her inner thigh so that she tingled and trembled. She was as wet now as she had been after he spanked her. He must know that, if he wanted it, she wouldn’t object too strenuously.