That summer turned unexpectedly into a haze of gold. Milly spent the long hot days basking under the sun, swimming in the pool, eating al fresco and revelling in the attention that Nipper was paying her. She had never been flirted with before, never made to feel in any way special. To her mother – who seemed crazy these days, a woman with wild eyes and jerky movements, trapped in a world of her own – she was an inconvenience; to her father, she was a useless girl, not a boy, not worth something, like Harlan. But to Nipper, she was obviously far from the bore she had always believed herself to be, with her nose always stuck in some romantic blockbuster by Danielle Steel or Sidney Sheldon.
To be kissed by him was wonderful. And slowly over the course of the summer he went further, slipping his hand inside her blouse and touching her breasts. Then further still, making her breathless with desire so that her only focus was him, Nipper. Harlan was still there making up to Belle, and Belle’s mother was always there too, standing guard over her daughter. Everything else – Jill and Belle included – became an unwanted distraction from the games they played together, her and Nipper.
One hot, humid day they were in the pool house. Nipper had beckoned her over, then, laughing, pulled her inside and shut the half-glassed door behind her. He yanked down the blinds at the windows. Laughing too, Milly looked through the door’s top section, back at the pool. Jill and Belle had gone off into the kitchen, and only Harlan was out there right now, sprawled on a sunbed, eyes closed.
Nipper lusting after her had given her confidence; now she wore a one-piece swimsuit, and didn’t care if it showed off the size of her arse. He said she was a beauty and suddenly, as if by a miracle, she was.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Their hot skins stuck together; he was only wearing bathing trunks. Jesus, she thought, with a sizzle of alarm and arousal, they were almost naked.
‘I can’t,’ she said, drawing back, breathless.
‘You know I want to,’ said Nipper.
It was the same old refrain. All through the summer, they’d wrangled about this. He wanted sex with her. She wasn’t sure. Now Nipper snaked his fingers inside her swimsuit and squeezed her breast. Her nipple hardened under his touch and Milly groaned.
‘It’ll be OK,’ said Nipper. He dug in the tiny pocket at the side of his trunks and came up with a small square packet. ‘Look. I’ll wear this. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. Feel it, Milly. Feel how much I want you.’
He was pushing her hand down between their bodies. Milly’s hand closed over a long column of hot flesh. It was startling.
‘God, that feels good,’ he sighed.
‘We can’t,’ said Milly weakly. ‘Someone could come.’
‘God, I’m going to come if you keep your hand there,’ he said, stepping back a little and looking down the front of his body. ‘Nobody’s about,’ he said, tearing the Durex open with his teeth. ‘Come on Mills. Slip your swimsuit off, we’ll be quick.’
But I don’t want it to be quick, thought Milly. She wanted it to be slow, magical. She couldn’t say it. Instead, she nervously pushed the unflattering black swimsuit down, exposing her soft pale body.
Nipper was snapping the Durex onto his cock as if he’d done this a hundred times before. That made Milly pause. But then he was pushing her eagerly toward the bench.
‘Just lean over and rest your hands on there,’ he said, pushing her down. ‘Oh yeah, Mills. Your beautiful arse, I love it . . .’
And then he was behind her, pushing into her. There was a moment’s resistance, and then . . . Milly screwed her eyes tight shut and held her breath . . . it was OK. He was in. And it wasn’t magical or slow or any of the things she’d expected. It was quick and it was just like the animals in the field; it was no different at all. Nipper panted and swore and slid in and out of her at ever-increasing speed. He grabbed at her breasts and squeezed them hard, hurting her. Milly wondered if this was how it was for all women. Because that’s what she was now: a woman. This was what men and women did.
She turned her head and opened her eyes, wanting to tell him to stop, that she wasn’t sure about this, that this was all wrong, not how it should be at all. Then she froze.
Through the half-glassed door, she was looking straight into the mocking gaze of Harlan.
Milly let out a shriek. Harlan was standing right there outside the door, watching them.
Nipper didn’t stop; he probably thought her cry was one of pleasure. He kept thrusting at her and then suddenly he let out a yell and it was over. He gave her breasts one last hurtful squeeze and then drew back, laughing, triumphant. Milly was shivering despite the tropical heat inside the pool house. She was embarrassed, humiliated.
‘Christ, that was good,’ Nipper was saying, pulling off the Durex and snatching up a towel to dry himself.
She thought of the news on the TV, saying Princess Diana had given birth to William, a future king. It was a fairy tale, the royal marriage. Milly wanted that sort of romance in her own life. But instead, she had this.
‘Harlan was out there. He was watching us,’ Milly managed to say.
She struggled back into her swimsuit, feeling sore. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. In her dreams, her and Nipper having sex was something that happened on their honeymoon, after they were married, because he couldn’t live without her and he told her so, all the time. You’re the love of my life, Milly. I adore you. Only in reality Nipper had never said that to her, not once, and she knew he never would. And now they’d had sex and she felt cheap and used and dirty.
‘Harlan?’ Nipper was laughing, like it was a joke. ‘Was he? That dirty bastard! Well, maybe he learned something.’
Milly surged past Nipper and opened the door and stepped out into the fresh air. Harlan was back on his sunbed, but when she came out he looked across, grinning, and said: ‘Having fun, Milly?’
Milly didn’t answer. She was aware of Nipper coming out behind her and she didn’t want to stay here a minute longer. She tore off indoors, and went upstairs.