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18. Mistaken.
It was the Sixth Form girls' turn for fun, but Susie and Charlotte bided their time. The fact that they had taken two of the biggest prizes would not go down well with the older girls so they'd had to keep things discreet.
"Won't we look awful if they meet us in school uniform and all the Sixth Formers are done up to the nines?" Charlotte said.
"They won't care. It will be dark anyway."
Margery wasn't actively involved in their plans, but was secretly wondering and hoping if the boy she had liked might be there.
Laura had rehea.r.s.ed various break up phrases in her head. She had sought Susie's input to little avail as she had dismissed all of Laura's ideas.
"You can't say 'it's not you, it's me' as everyone knows that's a lie. And you can't tell him that your studies are too demanding because that's obviously a lie to. And 'it's just not working' won't do because let's face it, there's nothing really happening to work or not, is there? A letter or so every month."
Susie's suggestion was to take a leaf from the Queen Mother's book and simply "never apologise, never explain."
But Laura couldn't be quite that harsh.
Not having late prep on the eve of the holiday made it easier for them to sneak out of Michaelmas House to the main school.
They had arranged to meet the St Duncan's boys at eight o'clock by the side of the hall. It was a cold night and Laura felt miserable with nerves.
Jonathan looked really happy to see her which made her feel even worse. She walked with him around the corner, girding herself for the difficult conversation. Unaware, he put his arms around her and went to kiss her. "Don't," she said.
Before she could start explaining she looked up. Mr Rydell stood there, just a short distance away.
His face was like ice.
He came over to them. "Neither of you should be here. Get back to the hall immediately," he told Jonathan who shot her a worried, apologetic look and left.
"And you, this way."
He dragged her to the nearby Art room which was unlocked.
Inside it was dark, lit only by lights s.h.i.+ning through the window from outside. He didn't turn a light on. Instead he gripped her shoulders and kissed her savagely. His mouth bruised hers, his teeth grazed her lips.
She was thrilled to be with him, relieved that he wasn't rejecting her, but terrified of his anger. "It wasn't what you think," she began when he broke off.
"I don't care what it is, Laura, I need to make you understand why you are not going to mess around with some schoolboy."
"But..."
He silenced her again with his mouth on hers, tearing off his jacket. He pushed her against one of the tables and tugged her underwear down from under her skirt.
The smell of paint, the smell of clay. The same clay she had used to mould a figurine shaped like him.
She couldn't stop him even if she had wanted to. His hands were already possessing her.
"It doesn't take much to get you wet, does it? Was that for him or me?"
She couldn't believe the effect he had on her. Even being brutal he turned her core to liquid.
He had thrust two fingers inside her, feeling how wet she was, already lubricated enough for him. Removing them, he pushed her down on the table, and replaced them with his full length.
She cried out at the suddenness and the size of him. He didn't allow her a moment to get used to it.
He had never been this forceful before. He drove into her, as hard as he could, again and again, trying to own her, trying to punish her. He gripped her wrists and held her arms above her head so she couldn't move, couldn't fight him.
He twisted as he thrust into her, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g into her as deep as possible. He wanted to hurt her as much as he wanted to bring her over the edge, so she knew that he had command of her, dominion over her body.
And she was lost. Nothing but raw feeling. Her heart ached for him as much as her body throbbed.
"You are mine. Mine, mine," he repeated as he pushed into her.
"Yes!" she cried out to him as her body took over.
"Come for me, Laura, come for me now."
She had never o.r.g.a.s.med so hard. She was practically sobbing, clinging to him.
Just as it started to happen he climaxed too, enhancing her own sensations. It was the first time they had come together, he usually got her there first.
Then staying inside her he slumped on top of her, and she felt his weight crus.h.i.+ng her body. She could only just breathe.
"G.o.d, forgive me, forgive me, I am so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you," he said.
She wasn't sure how long they lay there for, in the near darkness, the hard surface of the art table beneath her and his body above.
Eventually he got up from her and helped her up. He held her to him and stroked her hair. Tenderly.
"It wasn't what you thought," she said.
"It's okay, you don't have to explain."
But she told him anyway. How Jonathan had never been any more than a penpal, that she had been about to let him down, that she no interest in him or any other boys.
"And I took my anger out on you like that. What have I come to, a grown man getting jealous of some schoolboy?" He was truly contrite, hating himself.
She tried to make it better. "I felt bad that you misunderstood and I couldn't explain, but you didn't hurt me," she said.
"I forced myself on you in anger, I practically raped you."
"You knew - you could tell - I wanted you too. Otherwise you wouldn't have done."
"Wouldn't I?"
She looked at his face, the dark, deep shadows under its angles. His hair fell over his brow, he looked haunted with guilt.
She felt anxious. "Do you still...?"
"Love you? Christ yes. I am going out of my mind with what I feel for you. Look what it's doing to me."
She had meant to ask him if he still wanted to see her, or if he regretted it too much to continue, but his answer was more than she could have hoped for.
He took a risk and walked back with her towards Michaelmas House, until he needed to take the other path to the groundsman's cottages. He couldn't bear to let her go alone.
She loved the darkness for giving them cover. It was a starless, moonless night. It had rained earlier and the tarmac still glistened under the street lights.
"I hate leaving you, particularly after the way I treated you."
"I wish I could just come back with you. I could sneak out in the morning."
But it was too much risk.
"Just six more days and we get to spend the whole weekend together. Not that I'll find it easy waiting," he said.
They stood briefly before their paths diverged.
"This is me wanting to take you in my arms and kiss you and tell you how sorry I am and how much I love you, but not daring to in the remote chance someone can see this far in the dark and is watching us," he said.
"This is me doing the same."
"Sleep well, I will think of you all night."
Back in the dorm Susie convulsed with laughter when Laura gave them a brief account of what had happened.
"We wondered what had happened to you. Jonathan pa.s.sed us on the way back in and looked absolutely terrified. From the way he described it we thought it must have been Mr Tyrrell who found you. Too funny that it was Mr Rydell!"
"So did you manage to explain everything to him? Was he mad?" Charlotte asked.
It was written all over Laura's face though she had intended not to reveal anything.
"Oh my G.o.d you f.u.c.ked him in the art room!" Susie said. "How are we supposed to concentrate the next time we do ceramics?"
She had enjoyed her stolen half hour with Darius, and Charlotte had managed to go further with Julian than with any of her Welsh boys over the summer. She was quite starry-eyed about him.
Margery had been on the edges of the conversation, not saying anything. She felt terribly left out. But she also burned to know if the boy she liked had been there. She screwed up her courage.
"Was Robert there?"
"We didn't see him. Honestly it's not you, Margie, I don't think he really goes after anyone. He's shy, Darius said."
Susie was lying to save Margery's feelings. In actual fact Darius had said that he wasn't interested.
The last thing Laura remembered before she fell asleep was that he hadn't used any protection. Thank G.o.d her period was due.
19. Out of bounds.
He met her at the station and she ran into his arms. It had been the longest week of her life. They had managed to phone each other once or twice, but it was hard because the phone at Laura's house was in the living room. It was difficult to get any privacy.
Carrying her bag, he walked her outside to his car.
"Your parents don't suspect anything?"
"No, they were just glad for me that a friend had asked me to stay." Susie was her alibi for the weekend.
Before he started the engine, he turned to her. "So I figured as it was the holiday, there was no point just going back to school. How would you like to go up to London for a couple of days?"
"Really?" She would absolutely love it.
"We can do whatever we want, no sneaking around. See whatever you want to see."
Laura's first thought was Madame Tussaud's and a whole host of other tourist sites that she had always wanted to visit. Her family lived so far from London that she had only been there a couple of times. She didn't want to sound like a child though. "The British Museum?"
"You'd really like to go there? I was thinking more along the lines of the Tower of London or the Zoo. But we can easily visit the Museum if you want. There's plenty of time."
"Actually I would really like to see Madame Tussaud's."
He laughed. "Then we'll do that."
"Where will we stay?"
"I'll get us a hotel. The Ritz if you like."
She wasn't sure if he was joking. She also remembered that she had hardly any money with her. Suddenly it all seemed huge, she felt out of her depth. She was familiar with the confines of school, comfortable with its restrictions. But this - a hotel - just the two of them in the city for an entire weekend, was she ready for it? She tried to think like Susie, who would doubtless have demanded the Royal Suite and champagne and made a ball of it.
She stared out of the window. They were already on the motorway.
He picked up on her anxiety. "What's worrying you?"
"Nothing, it's just I haven't really got much money with me."
"Laura, you don't have to pay for a thing. I earn a wage, you don't. Nor does that put you under any obligation to me. Of course if you want to feel obligated..." He was joking, but he put his hand on her thigh, and moved it up. "Pity you're not wearing a skirt, this would be a lot easier."
"You can't do this here, you'll crash."