Bonding, page 25
‘I know you didn’t have to.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘I owe you one.’
Under the circumstances, I thought I was being generous. She knew exactly what she’d done, but she didn’t seem to share my view. She looked at me with that steely look of hers.
‘Another one,’ she said coolly.
•
Neither of us said much on the journey. By the time we’d arrived at Granta Park, it was almost midnight and the place was dark. Inside, the building looked sinister. Headlights flashed across one wall, the last of the technicians leaving the car park. Sunny sat a few metres from the entrance. He didn’t bother hiding his annoyance.
‘You’re early,’ he said. ‘You could have been seen.’
There had been a long negotiation on the phone and he’d agreed, eventually, to meet in person, mainly because he didn’t want to be overheard.
‘So now you know,’ he said, leading us upstairs.
‘Just show me what you’ve got,’ Tom answered. He looked rattled. He wasn’t in the mood to waste time.
Sunny switched on a pair of monitors. One screen lit up with a set of charts. The other was cued to play a video. The footage showed a group of patients in a room. It was a drab, low-lit lounge that was furnished with a short row of beds, divided by thin curtains. Lying on one of the beds was an old man. He was wearing striped pyjama trousers, his bare paunch splayed out across the mattress. He was lying on his side, next to a girl who had stripped down to her bra and knickers. The girl must have been around eighteen, her long hair draped across her breasts. She seemed content. Blissed out, even. Her eyes were closed as she relaxed in his arms, her hands toying gently with his chest hair. Beside her, a woman of around fifty was slouched on the near side of the mattress. Her loose nightdress was unbuttoned and bunched down around her waist. There were another two figures on the screen, both of them boys who looked like students. One of them was grazing on this woman’s neck while the other stroked her breasts lightly, tracing her large, soft nipples, cupping her and then moving his hand down to her thighs where he rubbed gently between her legs. He lifted his face towards her and started to kiss her. Sunny paused the video.
‘What the fuck?’ Tom said. ‘What is this?’
‘They’re in love. Or at least, we think they are. The neuroimaging suggests that they’re experiencing limerence.’
He restarted the footage. One of the boys started nuzzling the old man’s neck.
‘When was this recorded?’
‘Around four years ago. It’s “Trial XII90: Efficacy and Safety of Bio-fabricated Stabilized MDP1P over six hours in patients with Severe Major Depressive Disorder”.’
‘But how?’
‘We don’t know the mechanism, exactly. All we know is that at this dosage – a few milligrams higher than recommended – the results are fairly replicable. MAO-A is an enzyme that’s involved in the breakdown of serotonin and dopamine. What we’re not clear on is why it’s producing these behaviours. At the lower dose, it elevates oxytocin, which results in mild feelings of bonding. You could also call those feelings love – a more holistic, platonic kind of love – although this isn’t a brain state natural to humans. It brings up patterns that are more common in cetacean species like orcas and dolphins. The problem is, once you raise the dose’ – he turned back towards the video – ‘this happens.’
‘They’re attracted to each other?’
‘It’s more than that.’
‘You’re saying that with this higher dose, it’s an aphrodisiac?’
‘In the romantic sense, as well as the sexual one.’
‘Can we switch the lights on, please?’
‘No.’ Sunny sat down on his swivel chair. ‘Obviously, we can’t let this get out.’
‘Who knows?’
‘Only the researchers on my team.’
‘No one leaked it?’
‘Of course they didn’t. You know how it is.’
Tom leaned on the edge of the table and thought about it.
‘Anyway, point is, it works,’ Sunny said. ‘These people aren’t depressed. They’ve got it pretty good in there.’
‘Are there any other side effects?’
‘Not as far as we can tell. I mean, the effects are cumulative to some extent. They can linger. They can build up over time. People come down after a few hours, but in many cases, they remain a little softer than before. Let’s say they’re a little more convivial. And then the next time, they’re building from that baseline, so the effects might be a little stronger. Who knows what could happen over time? But it’s not toxic, if that’s what you’re asking. Physically, it’s far less harmful than something like alcohol.’
‘But you have no idea how it works?’ I said.
Sunny shrugged.
‘Anaesthesia,’ he said. ‘You think anyone knows how that works? Paracetamol? Lithium?’
‘What about Floyd?’
‘That guy’s a moron.’
‘He doesn’t know?’
‘Of course he does.’
‘So he kept this quiet on purpose?’
‘He’s a salesman.’
‘Is it legal?’ I asked.
‘Well, it’s covered. If people abuse the medication, that’s entirely on them. It’s beyond the jurisdiction of this company.’
Tom looked at him, a little stunned.
‘Look, we’re not talking life or death,’ Sunny said, before either of us had a chance to speak. He shut the video down and wiped its history. ‘All we need to do is keep our mouths shut.’
42
In June we flew to Ibiza. Tom took his laptop and used it to watch the football. He seemed fairly relaxed as we hovered over the Pyrenees. There was something about getting lost in the game that compartmentalized things for him, as if the screen itself offered some protection from what was happening around him. It was only an illusion but it was a persistent one, as if the glass functioned like a mirror and only one side could be real at once. I reclined in my seat and gazed out over the mountains. It almost felt as if we were going on holiday.
In arrivals, we joined the passport queue where I recognized two of the men in front of us. I knew their faces but couldn’t quite place them. They were both balding, slightly overweight, both dressed in shirts and cargo shorts. They didn’t look like tourists, exactly. I noticed both had travelled business class. It was only later, while we waited for a taxi, that I remembered where I’d seen them before. One was Aaron Charles from Taizong Capital, the guy who’d grabbed me at the hotel party. It put me on edge immediately, a shot of cortisol breaking through the pleasantly tranquillizing aura of the flight. I almost mentioned it to Tom but he looked so calm, I didn’t want to disturb him.
Ibiza Town was almost empty as we drove through it. The high season hadn’t yet started and although there were people milling around the Carrer de Saint Cristofal, most of them looked like locals. As we passed the port, the landscape changed into a mass of sand and rock. Dusty shrubs with yellow flowers clung to the old stone walls beside the ocean. The thick sound of cicadas pulsed around us. I pressed my leg against Tom and he returned the gesture without thinking. We drove past a craggy inlet, the water a vivid, sapphire blue. The warmth was pleasurable and mesmeric. For a long time, it enveloped me completely.
After a few kilometres, we turned off the motorway, then again into a long, winding driveway. From the outside, the gate was almost invisible. There was just a high white wall, almost completely shrouded in a veil of bougainvillea. It was only once we’d made it inside that a gravelled courtyard appeared before us. There were a few cars parked along one side, its contours leading towards an old stone villa.
Aliya answered the door in bare feet, her greying curls tied up in a scarf. She was wearing a white bikini underneath a short embroidered tunic. She led us down a long corridor that opened up into an expansive lounge, filled with exotic plants and a marble table lined with tall raffia chairs.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ Aliya said, as she picked her way through a mass of cables.
Assistants stood on ladders, installing lights and hanging decorations from the ceiling. Two security guards hovered by the door, one of whom Aliya introduced as Kader – a young Idris Elba lookalike – and another whose name I didn’t catch but who I would later learn was called Yannis. He reminded me of the actor Vin Diesel. The men nodded at us without much interest.
I found Lara outside on the terrace. She was on the phone and seemed preoccupied. She waved vaguely in our direction, then asked Aliya to show us to our room.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. We swam in the pool and lay on the wooden loungers that had been arranged at the end of the garden to overlook the Mediterranean. Pristine grass stretched out on either side of us, the watering system buzzing in the heat.
Sunny arrived a few hours later, a stuffed backpack strapped across his chest. He was wearing a pair of patterned surf shorts that exposed a surprisingly sturdy pair of calves.
‘I had to tell him,’ Tom said. ‘He wanted to come.’
‘How do you know you can trust him?’
He held his hands up as if to say, What could I do?
Georgia arrived not long afterwards trailing a pair of vast suitcases. She was dressed in a floaty blouse with a pair of cut-off denim shorts, her hair now golden blonde like a young Taylor Swift.
When Sunny re-emerged from his room that evening, he had changed into a different pair of shorts, this time a pair of tailored trunks, his shirt tucked neatly into the waistband. Georgia gave me a questioning look.
‘Who invited the deviant?’ she said.
Sunny, for his part, seemed happy enough. I got the impression he didn’t go to many parties.
Georgia sat beside me at dinner.
‘What has he come as?’ she said. ‘A seaside butler?’
‘You mean Sunny?’
‘This is supposed to be a curated crowd.’
‘Give him a chance,’ I said. ‘You hardly know him.’
She glanced over him disapprovingly.
‘I can smell men like that a mile away. Sometimes I think we should round them all up and leave them on an island to wank themselves to death.’
‘Steady on.’
She gave me a dirty look.
Giving up on Georgia, I turned my attention to Lara, who was sitting on my other side.
‘Where’s Niall?’ I asked her.
‘He’s missed his flight. He’s going to try and make it tomorrow. I’m glad you came.’
She looked genuinely pleased.
‘I know I’m not always easy to be around,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’
It was the first time she’d apologized to me in her life.
‘It’s fine.’
‘It’s not fine. I don’t know why I’m like this.’ She sounded genuinely reflective. ‘I’m trying to be more zen about things.’
‘I can see it’s killing you.’
She half smiled. Then she took my hand under the table. It felt warm. I almost pulled away but between the wine and the sunset I was feeling more forgiving than usual. It felt good, sitting there beside her.
‘Gentlemen.’ Georgia stood up, beaming, as Aliya introduced the executives from the airport. ‘Welcome to Ibiza. I think you’ve already met our friends?’
•
That night, I barely slept at all. I spent hours drifting in and out of consciousness, part-suspended, as if I was under water. I surfaced occasionally but not for long. There were other people in the deep but they flowed around me like shadows. They permeated my awareness and then they dissipated into nothing. By the time I came to, around dawn, I was disoriented and bothered by the sunlight. I turned towards Tom but he was still asleep so I lay awake for a while, listening to the sound of the waves as they crashed against the rocks beneath us.
•
It was still light when the first guests arrived. They turned up in groups of two or three, a line of cars rolling up and then vanishing back into the mountains. A few of Georgia’s friends arrived together, then a handful of older faces, most of them men in polo shirts, presumably VCs. Spence appeared with the same girl I’d seen him with in London – he was the only one of Lara’s friends I knew. Small cliques gathered by the pool. I recognized a handful of creators, a singer and a former model who now worked as a sex columnist, her minidress stamped with the word Dior in a pattern that looked like newspaper headlines. I stood mesmerized by her for a while, wondering if she knew that the designer, John Galliano, had once been cancelled for anti-Semitism, and whether his turn-of-the-century party looks – which were back in a big way – had now taken on a meaning of their own, cut loose from the circumstances of their creator.
Not long afterwards, a well-known actor showed up with a small entourage. There was a musician who had done an ad for Apple and a fairly high profile journalist, a lifestyle and features editor who had interviewed Lara more than once. Hostesses in bikinis wandered around with trays of Cava and spirits, the wine flutes accompanied by tiny shots of Hierbas Ibicencas.
The light began to fade around nine which cued the DJ to up the tempo, dance beats merging into something less nostalgic – the kind of music that owed more to SoundCloud than any notion of a dance floor. Guests gathered on the terrace, slowly warming up to one another. A palpable energy rippled through the place as the dwindling sunlight glazed the ocean.
It took a while for the ambience to build, the sound of small talk giving way to something stranger, more unfamiliar. A handful of guests began to dance, gathering fluidly around the speakers. I looked around but I couldn’t see Tom. Afraid to drink too much, I messaged Lara.
Where are you?
She didn’t reply.
A little restless, I went upstairs in search of Tom but found no sign of him in our room. On my way back down, my route was blocked by a pair of indistinct figures. They were crouched low, holding tightly to one another. It was dark and it took me a while to decipher what I was seeing. It was only as I stepped over their bodies that I recognized Aliya wrapped around someone who looked a lot like Kader, the security guard. His chiselled arms were cradling her like a child, his face buried deeply in hers. I caught a glimpse of the thick shaft of his penis. Startled, I stopped still. He looked up at me. He seemed beguiled but lucid, Aliya’s bony chest nestled lovingly in his hands, which were big enough to ring the whole of her bird-like torso. For her part, her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted in delight, her eyes soft with something more than only physical pleasure.
Outside, the atmosphere was charged. It was as if a dam had burst. The louche mood of the earlier hours had escalated into something more intense.
‘It’s like the nineties again,’ I heard one of the execs say under his breath. He’d untucked his polo and was gazing hungrily across the dance floor.
Marie, the company’s Head of Accounts was perched on Aaron Charles’s lap, his face buried deep between her heavy breasts. By the pool was Bob de LaPuente, the Group Head of Investment Advisory. A coterie of software engineers were massaging his back, fondling the luxuriant hair on his shoulders, while Nicole, Openr’s business manager, sat primly on his lap, masturbating soulfully.
My phone buzzed.
I’m in the sala
As I made my way past the terrace towards Lara, I caught sight of Sunny. He was lying topless on a lounger whispering quietly with Georgia. They were gazing indulgently at one another, their eyes locked together like magnets. I stopped in my tracks, a little traumatized. Georgia nuzzled Sunny’s ear. She traced her hands around his curves.
‘I see you,’ she said.
‘I see you too,’ Sunny whispered.
He sucked softly on her lips, then moved down towards her nipples. She jiggled them playfully for him. It was both off-putting and strangely gripping. It was only after I called his name that Sunny noticed me approaching. He stopped and waved happily in my direction, making space for me to join them. Georgia smiled benevolently. She stroked his chin as it quivered in the moonlight.
I turned around quickly and fast-walked to the villa.
‘Have you seen Tom?’ I asked Yannis. He shook his head, smiling gently. I backed away as he tried to take my hand. He was still carrying his clipboard while bobbing genially to the music, a distant look in his eyes that suggested raw, unadulterated arousal.
I was starting to panic. I forced my way through the dance floor. When I finally caught sight of Tom, he was prowling through the crowd towards me. He looked like he’d been in a war zone.
‘Where have you been?’ he said.
‘In a wet nightmare?’
‘Your friend’s a fucking lunatic.’
Behind him, Lara was brokering a deal with a woman in a candy-coloured thong, a tiny pouch hanging delicately from one of its strings.
‘Eudaxa,’ she announced triumphantly, pouring a handful of capsules into Tom’s palm. The expression on his face shifted slightly. He seemed almost resigned to his fate.
‘It’s really something, isn’t it?’ Lara said, throwing her arm around my shoulder. She gazed indulgently at the scene around us. ‘And it’s still early. The show has hardly started.’
‘I think I’ve seen enough,’ Tom said. ‘Is there anywhere we can sit this out?’
‘Upstairs. There’s a balcony in my room.’
She went to the bar and returned with a tray stacked with an ice bucket, glasses and wine. While we waited, Spence emerged from nowhere.
‘Bit much, isn’t it?’ he said.
He was flushed with sweat, his linen shirt glued limply to his chest. He seemed to have lost his date and was roaming haplessly on his own. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. He seemed out of his element for once. There was a small commotion by the pool and we all turned to see what was happening. Spence bolted as quickly as he had appeared, calling his girlfriend to heel as he sped towards her. She’d taken her clothes off and was bouncing happily beside the water. She waved at him enthusiastically, then dived in before he could reach her, a group of miscellaneous execs following, dolphin-like, behind her.
‘I think it’s time we got out of here,’ Tom said.
