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'Oh, God ... no, don't. .. don't do this, Nathan!'
But it was already happening before she'd finished her plea. Disbelief brought a type of horrified submission, his harsh panting echoing in her ears. When he finally ejaculated and withdrew, she just lay there, stunned. Silent tears began to stream down her cheeks and she couldn't bear to turn over and look at him.
She vaguely heard him mutter something, heard him rearrange his clothing. Stiffly she closed her legs and buried her face in the quilt. When he laid a perversely gentle hand on her shoulder, she shuddered, and his hand retreated.
'I'm sorry,' he said in the most hollow-sounding voice. 'God .. .'
There was the sound of footsteps gradually receding and then there was an awful silence. It was ages before Gemma could bring herself to move, creeping back off the bed and running back to her bathroom where she turned on the shower and climbed in despite still having the robe on. The water gushed over her, soothing, cleaning water. But she couldn't seem to get herself clean.
No matter what she did, she felt dirty and unclean and ugly. In the end she had to get out of the shower before she turned red-raw. Fresh underwear and a soft flannel tracksuit went some way to making her feel better in a physical sense but she suspected that emotionally and mentally she was walking a razor's edge. If only she had a mother to confide in, someone who loved her unconditionally, who really cared what happened to her.
The image of Celeste's sympathetic face last night came to mind. While she was hardly a mother figure, she was a woman of the world. She would understand what had happened here today, would perhaps help her put it into perspective. One part of Gemma almost understood Nathan's reaction to finding her in Damian's bedroom. Another part was so outraged she couldn't bear to think about it. On top of everything else, she’d begun to doubt what she had heard with her own ears in their apartment the other day.
Nathan had acted the wronged husband with such vehemence! Could she be wrong? Had she misheard something? How could she have? What Lenore and Nathan had said to each other was crystal-clear, and so utterly, utterly damning. There could be no excuse. No explanation.
And yet. ..
Gemma forced herself to return to Damian's bedroom to check that she had left no evidence behind of what had transpired there. For a long moment, she stood in the doorway, staring at the indentation in the bed. Luckily, there was no stain, but still, she felt sick just looking at it. She would never forgive Nathan. Never!
She raced over and plumped up the mattress, straightening the quilt with sweeping strokes, her color and emotions high.
How dared he speak so disparagingly of Damian? she thought agitatedly. Perverse, indeed! The man was a saint compared to Nathan. A misunderstood and genuinely kind man. The only pervert in this house today was her husband. No, ex-husband. She couldn't divorce him quickly enough. If she felt she could make the charge stick, she would have him charged with rape. Men should not be allowed to get away with treating their wives like that!
But Gemma was wise enough these days to know she had no hope of getting a conviction. It was a man's world all right, she thought bitterly.
As she turned to leave the room, Cora's crumpled note in the corner caught Gemma's eye. Swooping on it, she stuffed it in her pocket and hurriedly left the room. She couldn't stay here any longer, she decided. She would talk to Celeste when she got home tonight, ask her for a job at one of her interstate stores and make the move as soon as possible.
With this thought in mind, she went back into her room and packed, leaving nothing out but her nightwear and toiletries. She was coming back downstairs to put her soaked robe out on the clothes line when Cora came home.
Gemma schooled her face into a blank mask, surprising herself when she was able to conduct a normal conversation with Cora as the other woman went about preparing the evening meal. So it came as a considerable shock that when Celeste and Damian came home, Gemma immediately found her iron composure crumbling. When Damian disappeared upstairs to change and Gemma found herself briefly alone with Celeste in the living-room, she promptly burst into tears.
Celeste was stunned.
Gemma had seemed happy enough when they'd arrived home, yet suddenly, here she was, in floods of tears. All she could think to do was to hold her. At first the action felt awkward, but when the girl dropped her head on to her shoulder with a shuddering sigh, the most amazing wave of maternal love swept through Celeste and she found herself embracing Gemma quite naturally and without embarrassment.
