Molly Fish E-Book

Jack McMasters

• Herausgeber: Clink Street Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

When retired architect Arthur Howard receives an unexpected invitation from the elegant businesswoman he has just met, her promise of two weeks of incredible sex is enough to persuade him to forget his stale marriage and follow her to India. Leaving thoughts of his younger wife Ester far behind, Rani leads Arthur into paradise; her home lies in a beautiful valley filled with quiet villages, tranquil lakes, tea plantations and crocus fields, a place where his every need is catered for and his attention sought wherever he goes. But danger lies hidden here. Arthur discovers that Rani and the other villagers he meets in this rural Indian idyl are the ancestors of an ancient civilization, thought to be merely mythical. From his contact with them, he succumbs to a mysterious illness that keeps him bedridden for a long period in a darkened room. Confused and stricken, Arthur's days and nights are haunted by wild dreams; when he is unable to sleep, he reminisces about early love affairs and fears for his failing relationship with Ester until he is unable to distinguish dreams from reality.

Leseprobe

Molly Fish

Jack McMasters

Contents

Title PageChapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Copyright

Chapter One

Stumbling once more on the uneven, rocky ground and gasping for air, Arthur wiped at the perspiration stinging his eyes with his damp sleeve. His legs, and his lungs, were screaming for another rest, but he was only too aware that it had been no more than minutes earlier that Rani had urged him to his feet. He remembered her calm encouragement.

‘Just put one foot in front of the other; just think about one step at a time.’

‘Not much further,’ Rani said softly, as if reading his mind, and at the same time pointing to an escarpment above them. ‘Once we’re over that ridge, it’s all downhill.’

‘Yes, but a climb down can be about as bad as a climb up, and we’ve been climbing for hours.’

‘No, no, you mustn’t think like that. I know you’re tired, but stop being negative. It’s a gentle path down. Really, it’s not that far now. We should be there in another half-hour,’ she said, offering the near-empty plastic bottle. ‘Have a sip of water.’

It seemed pointless now to wish he had opted for the journey to her village by jeep. She had said it would take at least two days over incredibly rough roads and the prospect of camping overnight in the jungle hadn’t appealed to him.

‘This would only be a couple of hours of a gentle climb through incredibly beautiful mountain scenery.’

He knew when he’d been had.

From the village where the last bus had deposited them the walk had initially been an easy climb. The path ran alongside a stream that at first had flowed gently, but as the gradient increased the water was rippling noisily over the rocky outcrops. As the climb grew steeper still and the rocky sides of the narrow gorge came closer together the water pounded and roared, frequently drenching them with its spray. At times the path had disappeared completely and they had been forced to wade through the stream itself. Then, after what had seemed like hours, though he was unable to tell, he had lost his watch along with his mobile while they were asleep on the bus the previous night, the path became a serious climb and left the stream far below.

During the less steep parts of the climb he had found himself distracted by the way Rani’s buttocks swelled against the soft material of the long, loose skirt she was wearing and, not giving enough attention to where he was stepping, he had fallen painfully. Now, with the path only inches away from the cliff face and the faint sound of waterfalls from far below reminding him just how high up they were, he watched every step carefully, knowing his life depended upon it. Still, it was difficult to ignore the long brown legs revealed where she had tucked the hem of her skirt into the waistband of her underwear.

As they continued upwards for the remaining portion of the climb, the absurdity of this holiday struck him. He considered himself to be in quite good shape, at least for someone his age. It took little effort to hold his stomach in while he admired himself in the mirror and there was only a tiny amount of visible flab. Hell, if he stood just right, it almost looked as if he had a six-pack. After all, he was over sixty. No, he thought, be honest for a change, seventy was looming far too close to be comfortable. Perhaps it wasn’t so embarrassing that he needed an occasional rest, or wouldn’t be if Rani didn’t make the climb look so ridiculously easy.

He had flown to India with her after only a very short acquaintance and it had been necessary to satisfy Ester by inventing a last-minute invitation to an interesting dig. Along with an excuse that one of the other members of his “Architectural Society”, as she persisted in calling it, confusing his former occupation with his current interest, had been unable to go. He was, he assured her, only making up the numbers for the good of the club.

To be honest, he thought, he had met Rani when he was attending a meeting of his archaeological group. Rani had been staying in the same hotel having met, she later told him, a series of buyers for the products she exported. He had noticed her sitting alone in the bar, dressed in a smart business suit, making notes on her laptop and it was a matter of habit that he attempted feeble flirtations on such occasions. He expected to be rebuffed; he was more often than not rebuffed, but she had surprised him by accepting his offer of a drink. He had found her a surprisingly amenable companion for the evening and conversation had flowed easily between them. He was, he found, attracted to her unexpected sense of humour. After dinner together, and perhaps a little too much to drink on his part, they had ended up in her room.

When they landed at Goa, she had changed to more casual attire, so different but just as striking in appearance to her beautifully cut business suits, for the daylong journey by train. After a further night and a morning’s ride, sandwiched between the local natives and various animals on an ancient bus that rattled and shook them constantly, they had finally arrived in the last village. He felt as if he hadn’t shaved or bathed for a week and the strange and frequently unfamiliar odours surrounding them seemed permanently ingrained in his body. The khaki-coloured trousers and expensive shirt Ester had insisted on buying for his journey were sweat stained and looked fit only for a dustbin.

Rani, in contrast, still looked as if she was about to step out for a day’s shopping. Her apparel of good quality linen was only slightly creased and looked as if it had been designed for her. She had momentarily shaken her long, dark hair from the bun it was in and after briefly running a comb through it, had deftly pulled it back into place. A quick dab at her face with a scented wipe had removed any trace of tiredness and revealed her total lack of make-up. Six hours later, as they finally reached the last ridge and stopped to rest once more before descending, she looked remarkably unchanged, with only a few wisps of hair out of place.

The valley she had described earlier lay before them, surrounded by mountains as far as he could see. A lake in the far distance sparkled in the light of the setting sun and a similar reflection traced the path of a river that meandered through a varied, rolling landscape, past lush fields and small villages. The trail leading towards the nearer villages appeared to be as gentle as Rani had described and after a short rest and draining the last of their water, they set off once again on this final leg of their journey. The exhaustion that had overwhelmed Arthur earlier began to ease with the easier pace and was gradually replaced with a growing excitement; after all, he was on a promise.

Her proposition had been so completely unexpected and so unlike anything he had ever experienced, he kept telling himself that there had to be some catch. She was, after all an attractive, relatively young woman. No, let’s face it, she was a beautiful woman, early forties at the most he thought, with incredible poise and a dress sense that flattered a still slim figure. Okay, he wasn’t bad looking for someone his age. He made sure he exercised regularly, even though he couldn’t stand the boredom of a gym. He looked after his teeth meticulously and chose his clothes carefully, but his hair was seriously thinning and had long lost all but the faintest hint of its former colour.

Thinking about their first conversations, it seemed her interest had increased when he mentioned his holiday earlier in the year to India. He had broken his rule of never mentioning Ester when talking to another woman and told of his disappointment in missing so much of the tour because of her illness, adding how much he wanted to return.

She had ignored his reference to Ester, but started asking more questions. Had he enjoyed the holiday? Did he have problems with tummy bugs? Was his visa still valid? They had conversed easily all evening; she was knowledgeable on a wide range of subjects and for once he had remembered to ask questions of someone instead of trying to impress them with the extent of his own experience. He’d had the distinct impression that her attitude had changed abruptly and it must have been about then that she had suggested having a nightcap in her room. Once they were there, her manner seemed to have changed once again. She had become openly flirtatious, amorously brushing against him as he poured drinks from the minibar.

At the time and already under the influence of the larger half of a bottle of wine, he had assumed it was his irrepressible charm, but later he realized she had been in control all the time. She had kissed the nape of his neck while stroking his back, hip and buttocks. In response, he had turned to her and they had immediately embraced. They had held each other like that for a long time, swaying gently back and forth as if dancing. She had allowed him to unbutton her blouse and kiss her breasts, but each time he had tried to kiss her lips she had turned her head slightly. The last time he had tried, after a series of little kisses up one side of her throat, he had just barely brushed the corner of her lips and it was as if a firework had exploded in his head.

It was then that she had pulled away slightly, looked him directly in the eyes, and asked if he would accompany her on her return to India. She could promise him two weeks of the greatest sex he had ever had, she had said, adding that not only would it take years off him, but that all women would then find him irresistible for the rest of his life. He was tempted to make a joke; to say he had always assumed that such was the case, but he took her earnest gaze as an indication that this was one time he should refrain from stupid remarks.

Their arrangement had been so straightforward and so business-like. They had met for lunch two days later to discuss preparations. He had confirmed that his visa was still acceptable to the Indian authorities and that he had invented a sufficiently credible excuse to satisfy Ester. On his need of Ester’s complete approval, Rani had been strangely insistent. His suspicious side kept waiting to be asked for something, perhaps to invest his life savings in some project that ‘couldn’t fail to double his investment’, but nothing like that was ever voiced. She had already purchased his ticket and even stubbornly refused his offer to pay. The following morning they were on the plane.

By the time they reached the outskirts of her village, dusk had turned into actual darkness; Arthur had forgotten how quickly the transition occurred this close to the equator. The streets were dimly lit by strategically placed torches held in sconces projecting from corners of the buildings. Arthur wondered momentarily whose job it was to maintain these; some old fashioned lamplighter as depicted in nineteenth-century prints perhaps, lugging around a ladder and the long-handled device for snuffing the flames out at a predetermined time. Or, were they lit by individuals living nearby and allowed to simply burn themselves out each night?

In the dim flickering light, the buildings had a surprisingly Mediterranean appearance, even some Venetian influence, with tiled roofs and walls rendered in warm earthen colours. They soon encountered small groups, usually in two or threes, but occasionally more, of colourfully dressed women. All seemed to be moving towards the sounds of music and laughter and the flickering light of what Arthur assumed to be a large bonfire a few streets away. They invariably exchanged what sounded like friendly greetings and some good-natured banter with Rani, in an unfamiliar-sounding language.

She continued to lead him into a quieter area where the houses were larger, many with full-length verandas and large mature trees in their front gardens. Rani turned into the path leading to one of these and Arthur watched as she ascended a short flight of stairs to the veranda. At the top, she stopped and embraced a young woman standing in the shadows. In the dim light, Arthur hadn’t noticed her and her greeting to Rani momentarily startled him. After they had exchanged a few excited words Rani turned and beckoned for Arthur to follow.

‘This is Arthur,’ she said with a note of pride. ‘Isn’t he beautiful? He’s going to be staying with us for a while.’

Embarrassed as a child might be at hearing himself described as “beautiful”, he awkwardly went to shake the extended hand, too late realizing that she was offering to take his shoulder bag. In his confusion he didn’t hear her name as Rani introduced her, but meekly allowed her to remove his bag, take both his hands and pull him closer to her. He could feel her warm breath on his face and was aware of the closeness of her body as she softly kissed him on both cheeks, then continuing to hold both of his hands, she exchanged a few more words with Rani. Abruptly, she released him and disappeared in the direction he had seen the other women take.

‘She was late for the gathering,’ Rani explained, leading him into the house, ‘but she has prepared us a supper. Shall we eat first?’

Her question reminded Arthur that he had last eaten many hours ago and that his stomach had been growling for the last half of their descent from the mountains.

‘I think…’ he paused, then despite his fatigue and the urgent desire for a shower or bath, the appeal of food took an upper hand and he continued with an enthusiastic, ‘Yes, please.’

Rani led him through a large entrance hall dimly lit with a few candles, into a smaller, more brightly lighted room. A low table was nearly covered with assorted small dishes and strategically placed candles reflected from the polished surfaces of the table and the tiled floor. She gestured for him to sit on one of the cushions placed either side of the table, then as if to show by example, neatly tucked her legs under her and knelt on the one closest. Arthur stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to kneel or squat and not sure that his knees, suffering from the afternoon’s climb would survive either position for long.

‘I should have asked you to leave your shoes at the door,’ Rani said, ‘you’ll be much more comfortable without them’.

Arthur saw that she had slipped her own off at the doorway. Stooping to unlace and remove his sturdy, thick-soled shoes, he placed them alongside hers. As he returned he was all too aware that his socks were damp with sweat and were leaving faint footprints on the polished tile floor. He prayed that there was no discernible smell from them as he followed Rani’s lead and carefully lowered himself onto the remaining cushion.

The array of small dishes spread out on the table was at first confusing until Arthur remembered once having enjoyed a thali in a vegetarian Indian restaurant. Rani told him the names and explained each of the dishes as she passed them to him. He recognized a few of them, but found that most were things he had never heard of. The dhal was wonderfully flavourful and still warm, as was the naan and Arthur wondered how the young woman had managed to predict the time of their arrival. He hadn’t seen Rani use her mobile or go near a phone booth at any time since their plane had landed. He resolved to ask her, but quickly forgot as he lost himself in the profusion of flavours and textures. In his hunger, he ate far more quickly than he normally would, but listened attentively as Rani kept a running commentary of how and from what the individual dishes were made. With his mouth full, Arthur could only nod and make appreciative noises. When they had finished eating, Rani filled two small glasses from a white china jug and placed one in front of him.

‘Try this,’ she said. ‘I think you’ll like it.’

Arthur raised the glass to his lips, surprised to feel it too was quite warm, but finding the aroma very pleasant. At first he couldn’t remember what it reminded him of. It was like a mixture of apple blossom and cedar wood, with something strangely familiar that he couldn’t quite identify, thrown in. The taste was quite unlike the smell; a mixture of fruit juices with, he guessed from the tingle in his inner cheeks, a fairly high percentage of alcohol. Although the consistency was thicker than he was expecting, it was indeed very pleasant and he drained the cup far more quickly than he had intended.

Rani smiled at him across the table, slowly sipping at her own cup.

‘I think perhaps I was right,’ she laughed. ‘Did you enjoy that?’

‘I’m sorry if I wolfed my food,’ Arthur apologized, his shoulders slumping as he relaxed more comfortably onto the cushion, ‘I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was. Did you get enough, or did I pig most of it?’

‘Oh, I think I got my fair share,’ Rani replied. ‘But now it’s time we got you cleaned up and ready for bed.’

She rose and reaching over the table, helped him to his feet. His hunger agreeably sated, but racked with fatigue, Arthur allowed her to lead him to an adjacent hallway and up the flight of stairs, hoping there was no hidden meaning in her last remark.

More appropriately placed candles gave ample light for Arthur to see, at the top of the stairs, a long balcony overlooking the large hallway. Along one side there were several doorways; Rani gestured at one, telling him that it was to be his room while he was staying, before leading him through another that was obviously a bathroom.

The fixtures in gleaming cream-coloured china were of such an unusual design that Arthur was unsure of their workings, but he found them intriguing nevertheless. In the centre of the room was a shallow, saucer-shaped tub, over two meters in diameter and a similarly large, showerhead hung from the ceiling directly above. A freestanding basin stood to one side echoing the shape of the tub, but its slender stem and large circular base made him think of a classical champagne glass. Partly screened on the opposite side, a shorter, lidded version without the stem appeared to be a toilet. From the curved lips of the basin and tub projected single gracefully turned handles. Arthur was unable to see anything else in the way of taps.

Sensing his bewilderment, Rani demonstrated the usage of each, pushing the handle one way, then another, saying, ‘Hot, cold, open, closed,’ as water flowed from under the lip, partly filling the basin and then disappearing.

‘I had these made in Japan’ she said, unable to hide a note of satisfaction, ‘Zanli, one of Ashri’s friends created the design and I couldn’t resist having them made.’

‘They’re absolutely beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like them,’ Arthur replied, wondering who Ashri was, ‘I’ve always loved designing rooms and especially bathrooms, but I’ve never had fixtures like these to work with.’

‘Sorry, but we’re not going to use them tonight,’ Rani said. ‘Tomorrow night Ashri has something special planned for you and she doesn’t want, shall we say, the edge taken off.’ She opened a tall cupboard and withdrew a thick mat, spread it on the floor and turned to leave adding, ‘Come, get out of those filthy clothes, I’ll be right back.’

Wistfully looking at the huge tub, Arthur slowly removed his clothes, indecisive about his last item of underwear. He neatly folded the smelly, wrinkled items and looking about for a somewhere to put them, decided that the floor was the most appropriate.

‘I meant everything,’ Rani said, as she re-entered with an armful of towels and carrying a large basin and jug, ‘and kneel here on the mat’.

Arthur did as he was instructed, grateful for the dimness of the candlelight. He noticed as she knelt opposite him, that Rani had changed into a pale-coloured dressing gown belted at the waist. She filled the basin from the jug and using a combination of her fingers, a comb and a washcloth, began carefully cleaning his hair.

He found the gentle action of her massaging his scalp, stroking with the comb, rubbing with the wet cloth and the warm, iridescent water that smelled of citrus completely hypnotic. Dropping the comb, Rani continued to work down his neck and shoulders using little circular movements of the wet cloth, ringing it out frequently to mop up the excess water. She continued to cleanse his face, arms and torso, paying particular attention to his hands and each finger.

The soft candlelight, the aroma of the water and the sensations of her gentle massage would have been enough, under normal circumstances, to create unbearable desire in Arthur, but he was so tired from his journey and at the same time relaxed from Rani’s efforts, that when she asked him to stand, he was barely able to struggle to his feet. When he had finally managed that task, he merely stood meekly as Rani continued to wash and massage his legs and feet.

When she had finished, he followed her instruction to turn around and sit down, letting her pull him over backwards and cradle his head in her lap. Unaware of what was about to happen, he wallowed in the softness of the inner thighs that supported his shoulders. Trying not to think of what was immediately beneath his neck, he felt the unmistakeable rush of arousal until a gleam of candlelight reflected from the cutthroat razor she was holding and panicking, struggled to sit up.

‘Relax, I’m only going to shave you,’ she laughed, dipping the blade into the basin. ‘What did you think I was going to do?’

Arthur remembered with sudden apprehension, his early attempts at using his father’s razor on his first few half-developed whiskers. He could still feel the pull of the blade on the skin, the sharp sting and remembered the jibing from his friends about the multitude of small scars.

‘Relax,’ she repeated, stroking his forehead to pull his head deeper into her lap. ‘I promise it won’t hurt. I have done this before.’

Wetting his face again from the basin, she proceeded to shave him. Wetting, dipping, gently pulling the skin to tighten, turning his head first one way, then another for the best angle, her fingers flew over his face as a pianist’s over a keyboard. Arthur was scarcely aware of feeling the blade. Finally, she dried his face with a towel and rubbed a spicy smelling cream into the skin. Lifting his head slightly from her lap she bent over and kissed the top of his forehead.

‘All done,’ she announced. ‘Now let’s get you into bed.’

His earlier feeling of a draining fatigue was replaced with one of relaxation. Arthur gratefully let her lead him to the bed where she pulled a light covering over him, and was vaguely aware of her telling him of the folded duvet at the foot of the bed; there in case it turned chilly through the night. Although his eyes were already closed, he heard her remove the jug, basin and shaving paraphernalia; by the time she returned to blow out the candles, he was fast asleep.

Chapter Two

Arthur awoke to find Rani bending over him, her eyes smiling down inquisitively. She was sitting sideways on his bed, one knee against his chest. Behind her, mottled sunlight flooded the room, filtered through the leaves of a tree outside his window. The air coming in was pleasantly cool and smelled of blossom.

‘Come on, sleepyhead,’ she teased, ‘you can’t sleep all day. There are things to do, people to meet. And perhaps more importantly, breakfast to eat.’

‘What time is it?’ Arthur asked, stretching luxuriantly, ‘How long have I been sleeping?’

‘Oh, it’s not late. Mid-morning. I thought you might want to get out and see some things before it gets too hot. You can have a nap this afternoon, if you like. I’ve brought you something to wear.’

Arthur looked to where she was pointing; at folded items of clothing on a low table next to his bedside table. He worried briefly about the pile of dirty clothing he had left on the bathroom floor the night before, but just as quickly his concern disappeared.

‘I’ll let you get dressed,’ she said, running her fingers through his hair, as a mother straightening a schoolboy son’s.

Arthur sat up and putting one arm around her waist, pulled her towards him, but she pushed at him with one hand, laughing.

‘You must have had a good night’s sleep. But not yet my little tiger, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until tonight.’