Free The Pleasure Quartet by Vina Jackson

time so I could gather my thoughts.
    ‘Summer?’ she said after a pause, filling the silence between us. ‘Is something wrong?’
    She looked at me again, with a concerned, searching expression on her face.
    ‘Is it Antony? I know there’s something going on between you two and if that’s bothering you, we can sort out a way to keep you apart. Send him back to London, maybe.’
    ‘No, no,’ I said. ‘It’s not Antony.’
    ‘What happened with Vincent, on the boat? The rope? I’m so sorry about that. I got carried away. Andrei was furious with me . . .’ Her face flushed, and she twirled her empty glass in between her fingers.
    The waitress materialised alongside the table. ‘More drinks?’ she asked.
    I was about to say no, thank you, we would wait for the food, but Aurelia ordered another round of the same. At this rate, I would be stumbling back to my apartment later.
    Our main courses arrived. I quickly abandoned my knife and fork and picked up a pork chop with my fingers, sucking the sweet and sour sauce from each digit greedily once I had finished gnawing every scrap of meat off the bone.
    ‘Tell me,’ she said, putting her knife and fork down. ‘Whatever it is that you need, I am sure we can work it out.’
    The waitress appeared again to check if we had finished and Aurelia waved her away. ‘Not yet,’ she said, hovering a protective hand over the remainder of her mashed potatoes.
    ‘The truth is,’ I told her, ‘I’m not sure what I want to do anymore. I’ve loved my time with the Ball, I really have. And I’ll be forever grateful to you and the Network for the opportunity,’
    ‘You can spare me the platitudes, Summer, and just tell me how you feel. I know you’re grateful, and all that.’
    She reminded me of Lauralynn, in that moment. My oldest friend, and never one for beating about the bush. I hadn’t been in touch with her or her partner Viggo since arriving in Rio, not even to let them know where I was. I felt a stab of guilt, thinking about it.
    ‘I think I need a break,’ I blurted out at last. ‘From everything.’
    She nodded.
    The waitress came back and cleared our plates away. We had both finished every last mouthful, even mopped up all of our respective sauces with bread.
    ‘Will you return to London, then? Or some other part of Europe? Another tour, perhaps?’
    I had deliberately put my music career on hold since joining the Ball. Hadn’t been in contact with my agent or even picked up an instrument in months. I was even considering selling my Bailly, the violin that I loved most, for sentimental as well as practical reasons. It just wasn’t necessary to have that kind of money sitting in something that I wasn’t going to play. I would rather see it used by someone who would love it as much as I had than sitting in storage until it deteriorated for want of proper care.
    ‘No,’ I told her, ‘I don’t think I will. Go back to Europe or my music career, that is. I think I need a break from that as well.’
    ‘I thought joining the Ball was your break from music?’ she interrupted, a smile playing on her lips.
    I sighed. ‘I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense,’ I said, ‘and maybe I’m just being contrary. But it’s all tied up together for me. Music, playing the violin, bleak climates . . . the sort of sex that makes me lose my mind, like the erotica the Ball specialises in. I can’t have one without the other.’
    ‘What’s next for you then, sweet, contrary Summer?’
    I watched a young boy of about ten in bright orange-and-green swimming shorts walking down the street with a beach ball under his arm. His eyes were obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses that were far too big for him. He was barefoot, and sauntered along past the restaurant as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
    ‘Nothing. I think I’m just going to sit on the beach and do nothing.’ I would probably have to leave Rio, because life here would eat through my savings. But I had