I twist my head away and make a strangled noise. He grips my face and turns it back towards him, forcing his mouth against mine again. He jabs his tongue in and takes my other wrist, pinning it above my head.
I twist my head away. ‘What are you doing?’ I yelp, panicking. He hauls me round and throws me back onto the bed, still holding my hands above my head. He moves his knee up between my knees, forcing my legs apart.
‘Don’t give me that,’ he groans, kissing and biting at my neck and nudging both his knees up further now, edging my legs apart as I try in vain to keep them together. ‘You’ve been coming on to me all afternoon.’ He moves himself upwards, thrusts roughly and I cry out as I feel he is inside me. I struggle to lift my arms from where they are still pinned above my head to push him off, but I can’t.
‘Please, Adam, I don’t … I wasn’t,’ I try to shout, but it comes out as a whisper. I’m not sure if he even hears me. ‘I didn’t,’ I force out, but he carries on. His breathing gets faster and more shallow as he grinds into me and he is burrowing his head into my neck. I try to wriggle away but he is too heavy as he thrusts into me, still pinning me down. ‘Please …’ I hear myself beg. I try to move my arms and to twist myself away from him, but it’s useless.
He is thrusting faster and harder; then he groans, shudders, and rolls off me.
I lie there where he leaves me, on my back. I feel tears seeping out of my eyes and rolling down the side of my face. Was I coming on to him? Did I want this? I don’t know any more.
He sits up and glances at me sideways before leaping up and putting his towel back round his waist, just as it was when he came in. I reach for my towel, which is next to me on the bed, and drape it over myself ineffectually. I’ve never felt so naked, so vulnerable.
He’s probably been in the room less than five minutes, and the way he looks now, it’s almost like nothing has happened at all.
‘No need to tell anyone about this, Louisa, is there? No harm done. Anyway, you wanted it as much as I did. And it’s not as if anyone would believe otherwise, is it?’
He snatches up the trunks and opens the door.
‘I’ll see you in the sauna.’
27
December 1998, La Madière, France
Louisa
After Adam leaves the room, I am so stunned I don’t know what to do.
Did that even happen?
Did I lead him on?
Did I want it as much as him, like he said?
I start shivering and realize I’m cold. I haul myself up and get into the shower, turning the tap almost all the way round until the water is as hot as I can bear.
I scrub myself with Will’s posh soap, and wash my hair, but I’m convinced I can still smell Adam on me.
Should I tell Will what happened?
Would he believe me?
Would he think it was my fault?
Was it my fault?
I wrap myself in a towel again and lie on the bed. My skin feels pink and raw.
Will’ll be back soon.
I don’t want to be lying here like an invitation. That’s what Adam saw. Will isn’t like Adam but … even so. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.
I haul myself up and dress in jeans and an old hoodie. I’m going to look frumpy compared with Nell in whatever her latest designer outfit will be this evening but right now, I don’t care. I can’t bear the thought of anything touching my skin. Anyone.
I consider telling Will that I still have a headache and don’t want any dinner but in spite of my massive lunch I’m unexpectedly starving and have already played the part of the whiny, annoying girlfriend quite enough this trip – if I’m not careful, Will might dump me. Also – what if Adam tells him what happened and I’m not there to give my version of the story? What if Adam tells Will I was coming on to him all afternoon and that we had sex while he was still out skiing? Would he do that? He’s always trying to get one up on Will but … would telling him what we – he – did be a step too far?
I don’t know.
Would Will believe me if I told him the truth?
I’m not sure about that either.
I change my mind and swap my hoodie for a nicer top – I don’t want Will to be embarrassed by me – but I put on a scarf too, so you can’t see my neck. There are grazes and bruises. They’re not big – they’re ones that I could explain away by saying my ski jacket was rubbing, but I don’t want Adam looking at my skin, seeing what he did. I think maybe he’d get a kick out of that.
A couple of hours later the four of us sit down for dinner. I avoid Adam’s eye, but the way he is acting this evening, it’s as if nothing has happened at all. He pours wine for us all, Nell and me first before himself and Will, as usual. The perfect gent. He winds Will up about breaking his ski, gently teases me about having a crush on my ski instructor, things like that. As if it’s an ordinary dinner on an ordinary night on an ordinary ski holiday, where nothing unusual happened and no one has been raped.
And I was raped. Wasn’t I? Or maybe nothing did happen. I mean, obviously we had sex, but … maybe it was like he said? Maybe he didn’t force me?
Did I want it? Did I at least make him think I want it?
Is that even the same thing?
I realize in an instant that I definitely can’t tell Will. He would never believe me. Right now, I’m not even sure what I believe.
‘Didn’t we, Louisa?’ Adam is asking as I tune back into the conversation. ‘We had a great lunch at La Taverne? Shame that Will missed it by being such a knob and breaking his ski and Nell by being too slow to keep up with me.’
Nell sniffs. ‘I was NOT too slow to keep up with you. I simply wanted to stay on that side of the valley instead of coming back over here – there’s more sun there in the afternoon and I like the pistes better on that side.’
I look at Adam, but only for a second because it hurts too much. I can see he’s mocking me. Or at least that’s how it feels. Does he think we’re sharing a secret about what went on between us while Will was out? Or is he simply looking at me with no hidden meaning? I feel like I don’t know anything any more.
‘Yes. It was a nice lunch. Thank you,’ I say mechanically. I only then remember that he settled the bill – it must have been expensive with that posh wine and all those drinks. Was that it? Did he think I owed him? That I wouldn’t have accepted all those drinks if I hadn’t wanted him?
If we’d have split the bill, would that have avoided all this? Would that have sent the correct message – I am your brother’s girlfriend. You and I are just having lunch together. We owe each other nothing.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
‘So what did you do with the rest of the afternoon?’ Nell asks, spearing a piece of dry chicken.
‘We spent most of it in the restaurant,’ Adam continues, ‘Louisa telling me her life story, and then we came back here. I had a sauna – I thought Louisa was going to join me, but I guess she changed her mind. This chicken is horrible, isn’t it?’ he adds, lifting his fork and squinting at a piece of meat.
How can he be so nonchalant?
‘I had a shower,’ I say, my voice shaking a little, looking up at Adam but he is still concentrating on his chicken, trying to pull it apart with his knife and fork. I’m trying to inject meaning into my voice – Do you not realize that I had a shower because of what you did to me? – but he seems entirely oblivious. Is he? Or is he just a convincing actor?