This Was a Man (The Clifton Chronicles 7)

“Yes please,” she said, immediately regretting the “please.”

“I’ll pick you up around ten and we can go clubbing.”

Jessica didn’t mention that by that time she was normally in bed with a book, not out clubbing.

She rushed home straight after her final class, and spent over an hour deciding what she would wear for her “losing her virginity date,” constantly seeking Claire’s opinion. She ended up with a short pink leather skirt, Claire’s, a leopard-print top, hers, black patterned stockings, and gold high heels.

“I look like a tart!” Jessica exclaimed when she looked in the mirror.

“Believe me,” said Claire, “if you’re hoping to finally get laid, that’s the perfect outfit.”

Jessica gave in to Claire’s superior knowledge on the subject.

* * *

When Paulo turned up at the flat thirty minutes late (evidently that was also fashionable), two things happened that Jessica hadn’t been prepared for. Could anyone be that good-looking and own a Ferrari?

“Tell him I’m available tomorrow night,” Claire whispered as they left the flat.

The third surprise was just how charming and sophisticated Paulo was. He didn’t immediately jump on her, as her fellow students had claimed he would. In fact, he coul

dn’t have been more solicitous. He even opened the car door for her, and on their way into the West End, chatted about the impact she was making at the Slade. She was already regretting her choice of clothes, and kept trying to pull down her skirt.

When he parked his Ferrari outside Annabel’s, a doorman took the keys and drove the car away. They descended the stairs to a dimly lit nightclub, where it quickly became clear that Paulo was a regular, as the maître d’ stepped forward and greeted him by name, before guiding them to a discreet corner table.

Once they had selected two courses from the largest menu Jessica had ever seen—it was almost a book—Paulo seemed keen to find out all about her. Although she didn’t raise the subject herself, he seemed well aware who her grandparents were, and said he always saved the latest William Warwick for the long flight back to Rio.

The moment he’d finished his meal, Paulo lit a cigarette and offered her one. She declined but took an occasional puff of his. It didn’t taste like any cigarette she’d ever smoked before. After coffee, he led her onto the crowded dance floor where dimly lit became black. She quickly realized that, unlike drawing, dancing was a skill Paulo had mastered, and she also noticed that several other women were no longer paying much attention to their partners. However, it wasn’t until Chaka Khan was replaced by Lionel Richie’s Hello, that Paulo’s hands strayed below her waist. She made no attempt to resist.

Their first kiss was a little clumsy, but after the second, all she wanted to do was go home with him, even though she had already accepted that she probably wouldn’t still be on the menu the following evening. They didn’t leave Annabel’s until just after one a.m., and once they were back in the car, Jessica was impressed by Paulo’s ability to steer a Ferrari with one hand, while the other moved up her stockinged thigh. The car never moved out of first gear.

It continued to be a night of surprises. His Mayfair apartment was stylish and elegant, filled with pictures and antiques she would have liked to spend more time admiring, had he not taken her by the hand and led her straight to the bedroom, where she was greeted by the largest bed she’d ever seen. The black silk cover was already folded back.

Paulo took her in his arms, and Jessica discovered another of his skills, undressing a woman while he was kissing her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, after her top and skirt had been deftly removed. She would have replied, but he’d already fallen to his knees and was kissing her again, this time on her thighs, not her lips. They fell back onto the bed, and when she opened her eyes, he was already naked. How had he managed that, she wondered. She lay back, and waited for what Claire had told her would happen next. When Paulo entered her, Jessica wanted to cry out, not from pleasure, but pain. A few moments later he withdrew, slumped back on his side of the bed, and mumbled, “You were fantastic,” which made her wonder if anything else he’d whispered to her that evening could be believed.

She waited for him to put his arms around her and tell her some more lies, but instead he turned his back on her, and within moments he was fast asleep. Jessica waited until she heard steady breathing, before she slipped out from under the sheet, tiptoed across to the bathroom, and didn’t turn the light on until she’d closed the door. She took some time tidying herself up, noticing she was still wearing her black stockings. Claire would no doubt explain the significance of that when she got home. She returned to the bedroom, wondering if he was actually wide awake and just hoping she would go home. She picked up her discarded clothes and got dressed quickly, crept out of the bedroom, and closed the door quietly behind her.

Jessica didn’t even stop to admire the paintings, as she couldn’t wait to get out of the apartment, fearing that Paulo might wake up and expect her to repeat the whole dreadful experience. She tiptoed along the corridor and took the lift to the ground floor.

“Would you like a taxi, miss?” asked the doorman politely. He was clearly not surprised to see a scantily dressed young woman appearing in the lobby at three in the morning.

“No, thank you,” said Jessica, giving the Ferrari one last look before she took off her high heels and set out on the long walk back to her little flat.

26

NO ONE WAS more surprised than Jessica when Paulo asked her out on a second date. She had assumed he would have already moved on, but then she remembered the girl who claimed to have slept with him half a dozen times before he dumped her.

She told Claire that she liked being driven around in a Ferrari, dining at Annabel’s, and sampling the finest premier cru champagnes, and even admitted to her friend that she rather enjoyed Paulo’s company, and was grateful to him for solving her “virgo intacta” problem, even if she hadn’t been overwhelmed by the experience.

“It gets better,” Claire assured her, “and let’s face it, not all of us are wined and dined by a Brazilian god before we lose our virginity. I’m sure you remember my experience behind the school pavilion with Brian, the second eleven wicketkeeper?” she added. “It might have been more enjoyable if he hadn’t left his pads on.”

The only thing that changed on the second date was the nightclub. Annabel’s was replaced by Tramp, and Jessica felt far more relaxed mixing with a younger crowd. She and Paulo went back to his flat around two in the morning, and this time she didn’t leave the moment he fell asleep.

She was woken in the morning to find Paulo gently kissing her breast, and he continued to hold her in his arms long after they’d made love. When she saw the clock on the bedside table, she shouted, “Help!,” jumped out of bed, and took a hot shower. Paulo clearly didn’t believe in breakfast, so she gave him a kiss and left him in bed. During her still-life class, Jessica found she wasn’t able to concentrate, her mind continually returning to Paulo. Was she falling in love?

Professor Howard frowned when he took a closer look at her drawing of a bowl of oranges, and even checked to make sure it was Jessica sitting there. Although her drawing was still superior to those of her fellow students, her tutor continued to frown.