Part 15 (1/2)

She picked up a metre-long model of an old-style military tilt-fan. It wa~ heavier than she'd expected. The miniature missiles looked very realistic. 'What can you do with this indoors?'

Fabian flipped his lock of hair aside. 'Nothing, stupid. I fly it from the Colonel's landing pad. Do you want to come up and try it? I'll let you use the remote, it's dead easy.'

'Maybe later. Where do you get all this stuff from? You must go on week-long shopping expeditions when the Colonel Maidand reaches a town.'

'Oh no, I pick it all out from catalogue channels, and have it forwarded to our next airport. The Gulfstream collects it for me.'

'I see.' Jason Whitehurst hadn't been exaggerating when he said he kept Fabian on board the Colonel Mauland the whole time. She didn't approve of that at all. Not that she could ever say so.

'I'll have the maids clean it up if you don't like it,' Fabian offered generously.

'I don't think your father could afford the overtime bill.'

Fabian burst into gleeful laughter. 'How do you do that?'

'What?'

'Everything you say is always just right. The clothes you wear make you look utterly fantastic. You can swim well. You're a super dancer. You know about everywhere in the world, not just what countries look like, but their politics as well. You're like a superwoman, or something.'

139.

'That's age, Fabian. When you're as ancient as me, you'll have learnt it all as well.'

Fabian dropped his eyes. 'You're not old.'

'You're very sweet.'

'You said you wouldn't call me things like sweet and cute again,' he said petulantly. 'Not now I'm your lover.'

'Sorry.'

'Charlotte?'

'Yes.'

'Can we do it again?'

He might be bright, she thought, but he had a gra.s.shopper mind. 'I think we might, yes.'

Fabian scrunched up the choc-ice wrapper and lobbed it in the direction of the bin, then bounced on to the bed beside her. 'I forgot, you're incredibly s.e.xy too.' He said it timidly, as though he was swearing in church.

'Thank you.' Charlotte straightened her legs, and lay on her side next to him. 'Remember what I like?' She kissed him, hand running over his belly. Her voice deepened. 'How to make me ask you for more?'

Watching her face closely, Fabian reached out and undid the bikini top. He smiled greedily as the triangular sc.r.a.ps of fabric came free in his hands, and began to stroke the length of her ribcage the way she'd taught him. 'What's it like in s.p.a.ce?'

Charlotte groaned, the mood spoilt. 'Oh, heavens, Fabian. I've told you all I possibly can. If you want to know any more, you'll have to go there.'

'No. I meant, you know, that... freefall s.e.x.'

'Oh. Unearthly delights.'

'What?' he choked.

'Unearthly delights, that's what the New Londoners call'Wizard! So what's it like?'

'I don't know. Never had the chance to try it.'

'No?'

She could read him like a book. He didn't believe her. 'No. But I admit I was thinking of it; I met a nice local boy while I was there. But I cut four days off the end of my holiday and came home early. So I never got the chance in the end. I expect it's overrated, tourist board propaganda.'

'You packed up a holiday in s.p.a.ce early! Whatever for?'

Charlotte swore silently. This airs.h.i.+p flight was affecting her more than she liked, her self-discipline was going all to h.e.l.l. 'I had to get back for some business, and then there was the Newflelds ball. Why? Would you rather I was still up there?'

'No! Crikey, Charlotte,' he said, genuinely indignant. 'Don't say things like that.'

She ran a hand over his chin, momentarily confounded by the lack of stubble.

Fabian drew a quick breath. 'Hey, listen, I've just had a lremendous idea. We can go up to New London together. Right? You heard Father say I could go in a couple of years. Well, I will. It'll be wizard. We could spend the whole time in freefall. Unearthly delights!' He giggled and clapped his hands exultantly.

It took a supreme effort to maintain her light smile. Dear G.o.d, he was a besotted teenager who thought she was going to stay with him till death us do part, amen. s.e.x equals love, they all thought that at his age. How could she have been so stupid, getting herself into this situation? It could only ever end in heartbreak now.

Fabian was waiting, flushed and deliriously expectant.

'A couple of years is a long time to wait.' She took hold of his hands, and placed them firmly on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. 'And I know some pretty good earthly delights.'

Charlotte let the shower's hot spray play over her back, soapy water running down her thighs and calves. It felt good, relaxing her. The sharp jets of water pounded into her skin like a scratchy ma.s.sage. Steam swirled around, warming her all the way through.

What the h.e.l.l was she going to do about Fabian? He wasn't a bad kid, certainly he deserved a lot better than her and his father. The obvious thing to do was cut and run as soon as she reached French Guiana. He was young, resilient, he'd get over her fast enough. Except she knew how much it would hurt hint. How much she would hurt him.

She couldn't bear the thought of that trusting, mischievous face screwed up in misery. In itself an unusual, and disturbing, admission.

G.o.d d.a.m.n Jason Whitehurst for not bringing up his son properly. And G.o.d d.a.m.n Baronski for not knowing what Jason Whitehurst had wanted her for. The old boy was normally so careful about what he got his girls into.

Charlotte gave her hair a final rinse and turned off the shower. She wrapped a big towel around herself, then used another to dry her hair. The robe she'd worn over her bikini to walk about in through the gondola was lying on the damp tiles, soaking up the condensation the shower had thrown out. It could stay there now. The maid could clean it. b.i.t.c.h.

She sat down in front of the mirror, and combed out her hair. Her cabin hadn't got that stale stuffy taste in the air like Fabian's. It gave her room to breathe, room to move. Having her own cabin was the only real plus of this a.s.signment. She liked the times she was on her own, an interval when she could be reflective, when every move and word wasn't an effort.

She looked at the image in the mirror, stretching, wriggling her toes. 'Gawd luv us, ducks. See 'ow grand we is nahdays.' She giggled. Funny, it was harder to do that accent now than the upper-middle-cla.s.s one Baronski had patiently coached her in. The past really had died.

Charlotte got up and searched through her bedside cabinet. Her gold Amstrad cybofax was in the second drawer. She took it out and sat on the bed, curling her legs up. 'Phone function,' she told the wafer, then gave it Baronski's number. He probably couldn't help her out of her predicament straight away, but she could vent a lot of her frustration on him. It was something he was always good at, always there as a shoulder to cry on. Everyone needed someone like that, life would be unlivable otherwise. And in any case, she needed to tell him she wouldn't be going to Odessa. He liked his girls to keep in touch.

142.

UNABLE TOACQUIRESATELLITELINKAGE, the cybofax screen printed.