Most of the time McBride knew what he wanted from women. They were best when they were ladies out of bed and tarts in it. It was an acceptable combination for both of them. In the morning, they could pretend much of what had occurred hadn’t – it made it easier over breakfast and the conversation was simpler.
Sometimes it didn’t work that way. Sometimes the ones who were most willing were the ones who gave least. Their perception of sexual equality was not to share but to submit. In their own minds, they were the perfect partner, giving but asking nothing in return. They would never comprehend that, in bed, those who gave most were the ones who took most. It was a concept with which Anneke Meyer was fully acquainted. Her generosity was limitless and entirely to herself.
From the moment they entered the room at the back of the old farmhouse, she was no longer the possible prey but the undisputed predator. In her new persona, there was no compromise or surrender to convention. She assumed control from the outset. Without exchanging any words with McBride, she walked to a corner of the square-shaped bedroom and unhurriedly removed all her clothing. When she was naked, she placed it in neat folds over the back of a low chesterfield. Then she walked slowly back across the oak floor to the bed which was placed in the centre of the room and lay down, dropping her head on to one of four clinically white, newly laundered pillows placed precisely beneath the brass pillared headboard. She looked across at McBride, soundlessly inviting him to join her.
He hesitated – but only for as long at it took him to divest himself of what he wore. He did not follow her example for orderliness but left his garments where they lay on the floor.
What happened next and for the remainder of the night was not something McBride had experienced with a woman before. He was the entire focus of her attention but, for much of the time, he felt like a spectator.
Her first act was to inspect the part of his body she desired most – not to observe its dimensions but to examine it at close range. She held him firmly and squeezed intermittently, watching for the escape of any fluids. When none appeared, she appeared satisfied and without releasing her hold she reached into the drawer of a bedside table with her other hand and removed several packets of condoms. Continuing to gently massage him, she placed one of the sachets in her mouth and carefully tore the wrapping open with her teeth. She extracted the sheath and put it on him. Wordlessly, she moved over his body until she straddled him. Then she lowered herself on to his loins and covered him until their pelvises touched. Still she did not speak but her eyes never left his as she began to move rhythmically.
They only started to communicate verbally when she finally pulled away and rolled on to her back beside him, her appetite temporarily satisfied.
There was not much need for McBride’s extensive sexual repertoire during the next few hours. She needed no guidance or instruction and actually added to his ‘box of tricks’ in one or two areas.
When daylight started to fill the room, it signalled the conclusion of her desires. She pulled herself on top of him once more but this time to sit on his chest. She gazed down at him and playfully patted the top of his head. ‘Ten out of ten,’ she declared with an approving nod. ‘You’ve earned a hearty breakfast.’
McBride had only one question. ‘OK, what was all the squeezing and inspection about before the outbreak of hostilities?’
She knew instantly what he referred to. Affecting the tone of a headmistress, she wagged a finger. ‘A girl can’t be too careful. My information is that you’re a serial shagger. Just checking you out for any nasties. Same with all the condoms. Don’t forget I’m a forensic scientist.’
A thought flashed through McBride’s mind. He glanced at the top of the bedside table but could not be sure precisely what he saw. ‘All? Tell me how many – I think I lost count.’
‘Four. Still, not to worry – there’s always next time. Lots of opportunities for improvement.’
She slid out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom leading off the room. When she returned a few minutes later, she had showered and was wearing a white towelling bathrobe. She carried an identical one which she dropped on the bed beside him.
‘His’n’hers!’ she exclaimed.
When he prepared to leave after breakfast, Anneke accompanied him to his car. Apart from her own, it was the only one on the wide sweep of gravel extending the full length of the farmhouse.
‘Your neighbours leave early, do they?’ he asked absently.
‘Don’t have any, meantime. They split their time between here and Majorca. When the sun doesn’t shine here, they go there to look for it.’
McBride opened his eyes wide, gasping dramatically. ‘So no one would have heard my cries for help?’
‘Only me. But I wasn’t aware you needed any assistance. I thought you did very well all by yourself.’
They both laughed. But the knockabout wasn’t quite over.
As he opened the door of the Mondeo he looked over at the nearest field and the remains of autumn crop which had been harvested. ‘Potatoes?’ McBride asked.
‘No, rape.’
‘Figures,’ he said.