He sighed. ‘Gill’s not … the type to take rejection very well.’
‘What – you mean, she’s tried and you said no?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘When?’
‘Oh. On a pretty regular basis. When she’s pissed usually. When Gill’s pissed she turns into a complete raving nympho.’
‘Yeah,’ smiled Ana, ‘I’ve noticed. But from what I’ve seen, you’re not exactly her usual type, are you?’
‘You mean the black guys?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Yeah. Gill loves her black guys. And they seem to love her, too, actually. I mean – don’t get me wrong – I do like Gill. You know, I’ve known her half my life. But when it comes to sex, she’s a bit fucked up. I wouldn’t pay too much attention to anything she says – she’s got a skewed vision of sex. She seems to think it’s an Olympic event.’
Flint took a sip of tea and looked at Ana. ‘Here’s a question for you,’ he said, ‘how come you’re only askingme about all this right now – why didn’t you ask me last night – before … you know?’
Ana grinned at him. ‘Because,’ she said, ‘last night I wasn’t really in the mood for talking.’
Flint smiled and took another sip of tea.
‘You must think I’m dreadful,’ said Ana.
‘What?’ laughed Flint.
‘Last night. I don’t really know what happened. I was just … overcome. Not that I didn’t want to, before, or anything. I’ve been wanting to since I first saw you … oh.’ She put her hand over her mouth and looked embarrassed.
Flint laughed. ‘You dirty old mare,’ he grinned. ‘And I thought you were such a nice girl.’
‘I am,’ she insisted, ‘I’m a very nice girl. In fact you’re only the second man I’ve slept with.’
‘I know.’
‘What! How?’
‘The delightful Hugh told me. He told me that he taught you everything you know. And I have to say that as much as it makes me want to hurl to admit it, or even to think about it, for that matter – he did a fine, fine job.’
‘Last night,’ said Ana, ‘was nothing to do with Hugh, I can assure you.’
‘Oh no?’ said Flint, putting his tea down and grabbing Ana by the waist.
‘No,’ said Ana, passing her hands over his buttocks, ‘what happened last night was the inevitable result of being driven around London in a stretch limo at midnight by a large handsome man in a suit, while drinking champagne and listening to good music. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.’
‘Is that what I’ve got to do every time I want to do this with you then? Take you for a drive?’
‘No,’ she said, looking confidently and directly into his eyes, ‘only the first time. After that all you have to do is ask.’
Flint stared into her eyes. Who was this person? This person with sparkling eyes and ready lips? This person whose body he could feel underneath his, long and taut and accommodating? This person who was like Ana only different? Whoever she was, he liked her, liked her even more than the other Ana.
‘Please may I have sex with you, Ana?’ he said.
‘You most certainly may,’ she said, guiding him on top of her and, as she pulled his face towards hers and put her lips against his, Flint just wanted to punch the air and shout, ‘You’ve come a long way, baby …’
34
They set off for Ashford at about eleven o’clock. As they headed across the M25, the sun blazing through the windscreen and turning the leather seats to the consistency of warm flesh, Flint kept his hand on Ana’s knee and thanked God for automatic gears. He glanced at her briefly. The air-conditioning was ruffling the fine fringe of baby hair that grew from her hairline and she was smiling serenely. She looked across at him and squeezed his thigh and grinned, pulling a strand of hair off her cheek.