My Lies, Your Lies: a Novel by Susan Lewis

Author:Susan Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

It’s almost the end of summer and I can hardly wait to go back to school.

I’ll see much more of Sir then, even though I won’t be able to speak to him privately very often, or touch him whenever I want to, unless we can snatch some secret moments together. (We’ve talked about that and I’ve come up with some good ways that we’ll find exciting and daring and necessary because it’s hard for us to keep our hands off each other.)

Paris was wonderful, fab, everything I ever dreamed of and more, but it seems such a long time ago now. I’ve seen him since, of course, I’ve gone to him every time I could, even while I was on holiday with my parents in Wales. They were staying at a big house near the west coast, and Sir drove all the way over just to see me. I escaped without anyone even asking where I was going; they were too chilled out on pot, loud music, and hot sun even to notice I’d gone.

I met him in a layby about a mile away from the holiday house and we drove to a deserted beach I’d spent days finding for us. He’d brought a picnic, the way he always does at his uncle’s cottage, but we didn’t eat straightaway. Instead we stripped off our clothes and ran into the surf, splashing and leaping about in the waves, laughing and screaming over the roar until he carried me onto the sand and lay me down. Beaches are not good places to make love, we soon discovered, but he’d brought a blanket and towels and soon we were as together as it is possible to be.

He misses me every bit as much as I miss him when we’re apart; he says he thinks about me all the time and I know I can never think about anything else. He’s written poems for me to read when I go to bed and they’re so beautiful that sometimes they make me want to cry. I picture him in my mind, seeing him as he is when we make love; it’s like he’s lost in his favorite music. As it grows louder and more forceful his eyes close and all the muscles in his face tighten until he’s carried into the very heart of the symphony.

Today we’re going to the cottage for the first time in several weeks. His uncle’s been using it over the summer, but he’s gone away again now, to Argentina, I think, or Buenos Aires, which actually might be the same place. My parents are back in London after our holiday and they think I’ve gone to stay with Mandy to plan which clubs and teams we want to belong to during the coming school year. First day of term is less than a week away, but Sir wants me all to himself one last time before the summer is over. He also wants to talk to me, because he has something important to say.

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