by Vera Morris
‘Mabel, can I talk to you about Stuart? If you don’t want to, I’ll understand, but he asked me to help him this morning.’ There, she’d said it.
Mabel’s face flushed. ‘What do you mean, asked you to help him?’
She swallowed and rubbed her hand nervously under her nose. ‘He’s really worried you want to finish with him, to call off the engagement. He doesn’t know what he’s done to upset you and he’s afraid if he brings it up you’ll just take off that engagement ring and throw it in the sea. He asked me to act as a go-between. He says he’ll do anything to keep you – even give up his pipe.’
Mabel rested a hand on her heaving bosom. ‘He said that? He still loves me even though I’ve been so awful to him?’ Her eyes were full of tears, but she looked happier than Laurel had seen her in a long time. ‘It’s nothing Stuart’s done. It’s me, it’s my fault.’
Laurel took her free hand. ‘Can you tell me, Mabel? I’ll help if I can.’
Mabel quivered. ‘I can’t find the words. I’m so much older than you. I’ve been married, I’ve had children and you …’
Laurel thought she knew where this was going. ‘Mabel, I’m not a virgin and I studied human anatomy at college. Is this something to do with sex?’
Mabel clasped her hand to her mouth, tipped her head back and looked at the ceiling. ‘Laurel Bowman, it’s a good job your mother can’t hear you!’
Laurel laughed. ‘My mother’s no fool. She knows what goes on between young people – and older people. Come on, Mabel, grit your teeth and tell me what the problem is.’ Mabel must have passed through the menopause by now, or was she still menopausal? Was it something to do with that?
Mabel took a deep breath, sat up straight and placed her hands on the table, palms down. ‘Promise you won’t say anything to anyone else?’
‘Stuart may have to know if he’s going to understand what’s wrong. If you do marry him, I presume you’ll both want to have a physical relationship?’
Mabel shuddered. ‘That’s the problem, I’m not sure if I can do it. When we’ve been alone … and, well, you know, I was afraid, and I put him off.’
‘Why are you afraid, Mabel? Didn’t you like making love with your husband?’
Mabel’s face turned puce. ‘Laurel Bowman, you don’t care what you say, do you?’
Laurel laughed. ‘All I can say is lucky you, I wish I had a man in my life. Come on, we’ve got this far, tell me what’s frightening you.’
‘It’s … I went through the change a few years ago, it wasn’t too bad, but it’s left me a bit …’ Her face was gradually getting redder.
‘Dry?’ Laurel guessed.
Mabel hung her head and nodded.
‘Is that it? Do you want Stuart to make love to you?’
Mabel kept her head down and nodded again. ‘I do love him.’
‘I think we can sort this out without too many problems, Mabel.’
She raised her head. ‘Really?’
‘All you need is a lubricant. You could use baby oil, but there are better things you can get at a chemist. Would you like me to buy some for you?’
‘Would you do that for me? But what will the chemist think? They’ll think you’re having sex with someone. They might think it’s Frank!’
Chance would be a fine thing, she thought. ‘Chemists are discreet and it’s none of their business what I want a lubricant for, I might need it for mending a puncture.’
Mabel laughed. ‘Oh, Laurel, I feel so much better. Thank you.’
‘Shall I tell Stuart?’
Mabel cringed. ‘Does he have to know?’
‘Yes, I think so. I’ll try and put it delicately, unless you want to tell him?’
Mabel’s eyes widened in horror. ‘I couldn’t, I’d be too embarrassed. It’ll be bad enough when he knows. Perhaps he’ll want to call it all off, think I’m over the hill, needing help with … you know what.’
‘He’s been married, his wife might have had the same problems; it’s very common, Mabel. You just need a bit of help, that’s all.’
‘You won’t tell him while I’m around, will you?’
‘No, but I think the sooner the better. Is he coming here tomorrow?’
‘No, and there’s another thing, I don’t want us to start our married life here at Greyfriars, I think we need a bit of privacy. Can you tell him that? I know we said we’d let out his bungalow to make a bit more money, but I don’t think I could brace myself if I knew someone was in the next bedroom.’
Laurel spluttered. ‘There’s only Dorothy and me, we won’t have glasses against the bedroom walls, Mabel; but I can see your point of view. I think I’d feel the same.’
‘Frank had the right idea, keeping his cottage. He can get up to what he likes and we won’t be any the wiser.’
Laurel’s good mood started to disappear. ‘That’s true. I’ll drive over to Leiston tomorrow and see if I can talk to Stuart. Believe me he’ll be over the moon.’
Mabel simpered. ‘I feel a bit that way myself.’
Chapter 17
Sunday, March 14th, 1971
Frank closed the door of his cottage, squinting as the cold, horizontal rain, straight off the North Sea, slashed into his face. Perhaps the weather would put her off. The thought was a relief, balanced by a sense of loss. What was he doing meeting Carol like this? The pretence she was bringing him the names and addresses of the last two of David’s tutors was laughable. What was driving him to act in such a stupid way? Lust? He didn’t want to admit he couldn’t control his desires; he’d always been able to in the past. Perhaps he was getting what he deserved. There’d been several women he’d had affairs with; some had ended amicably, but with at least two, as soon as the woman became serious, even when he’d still liked and wanted her, he’d ended the affair. Was he frightened of being …? What was he frightened of? Responsibility? The thought of children? His brain was a mess. He didn’t like it. What would happen if she was there, in her car? Was he reading her wrong? Perhaps all this was quite innocent. Perhaps she was lonely, glad to escape from the house with its memories of her missing son. Perhaps he was imagining she was attracted to him.
He pulled the hood of his waterproof over his head and, with the wind on his back, walked to the car park. He knew she drove a black Rover. There were only two parked cars. One was hers. He went to the passenger door and opened it.
‘Frank! I was afraid you wouldn’t come.’
She was pale, her hair loose, its blackness making her white skin gleam like alabaster, the red lipstick on her full mouth a sharp contrast. Her blue mohair coat was open, showing a short skirt, bare legs and feet clad in ballet pumps.
Frank pulled his door shut. She was close, beautiful and vulnerable.
‘Where’s your car?’ she said.
‘I parked off the road, just before the cottages.’
‘Shall we stay here and talk, or do you want to drive somewhere else? Perhaps we could go to your house.’
‘I told you, I live on the agency premises, other people live there as well.’
‘You mean your partners?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think it would be better if we went somewhere less public.’
‘I don’t think many people are taking walks today, Carol, but if you want to move …’
‘I do. It’s lovely to hear you call me Carol. I’ll drive towards Westleton, there are some pull-ins on the right leading onto the heath.’
How does she know that?
She turned on the ignition, put the car into first gear and drove smoothly over the rutted surface of the car park and turned right, on the road to Dunwich.
As they passed the deserted site of Blackfriars School, she nodded her head towards it. ‘You solved that case, didn’t you? When you were in the police.’
‘Yes. Six months ago, but it seems like another life.’
‘Why did you leave the police?’
He shrugged. That was something he didn’t want to
share with her. Something he couldn’t share with anyone except Laurel. He would probably have left the force in the near future, but Laurel’s predicament catalysed him into action. It was Laurel’s and his secret. He’d never betray her.
After turning left onto the Westleton road and driving for a few minutes, Carol turned right into a rough area of gravel behind gorse hedges. It was a spot popular with people bringing their dogs for a run over Westleton Heath. There were no other cars today.
She turned towards him, pushing the edges of her coat wider, her skirt riding up. Her legs were smooth, as pale as her face, long and slender; the same subtle perfume she’d worn yesterday rose from her hair and body.
‘Did you bring the names and addresses of the tutors?’ he asked, retreating slightly.
She laughed and reached out a hand, touching his face, caressing him from his temple, down his cheek, and circling his lips. Her deft fingers and the look of mischief in her eyes deepened his breathing and aroused him.
‘I didn’t even bother to look for them. I think we both know why we’ve met today.’ The tone of her voice told all.
Words seemed to stick on his lips. His body wanted to do one thing, his brain another. Everything important to him seemed to be disappearing and the world only existed here, in this car, with her. He didn’t know what was going to happen, he couldn’t be sure what he would do. Her beauty, her sexuality, overwhelmed him. His mind was losing the battle. His urge to kiss her, not only her lips, but everywhere, her neck, the blue hollows near her clavicle, the desire to see her naked, to sculpt her body with his hands, to possess her, was too much. He was lost.
Her eyes widened, her pupils enlarging, probably mirroring his own. They moved towards each other and she pulled his head down to hers, her mouth opening greedily, her tongue darting. He held her tight, kissing her back.
She unlocked her arms from round his neck. ‘Let’s go in the back. There’s more room there.’
She wants to do it now. Christ, Frank thought, I’m thirty-two, I haven’t had sex in the back of a car for a decade. As she moved to open her door her skirt rode up and there was a brief glimpse of black hair. It was as if a fist had punched him in the gut. No tights and no knickers. Like a tart preparing for a night’s work she’d come ready for easy access. This was no romance, no sudden passion. He was wanted for one thing only: to satisfy her sexual needs. He was virile and available. A wave of shame and revulsion washed over him. They say no fool like an old fool, but he was a young fool with no control over his body and mind.
She climbed into the back and took off her coat. ‘Hurry up, Frank.’ Her eyes were glittering, the urgency in her voice spoke of a desperate need. Shame and revulsion were replaced by pity, and the worry of how he was going to get out of this situation. He was an idiot. What would be the effect of this debacle on the case? He’d forgotten his responsibilities: to the missing boy, David Pemberton, and to his team.
He leant over the front seat towards her. ‘Carol, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. It’s wrong. You’re very beautiful, very desirable, I wanted to make love to you, but I can’t.’ He was expecting and he deserved a scene. He’d gone down the same path as her. She thought he was more than willing, and he had been.
She looked bewildered, obviously unable to believe what she was hearing; her mouth quivered and her face puckered with hurt and frustration. She pulled her coat back on, as though suddenly cold.
‘Why? Why does it always happen? Why won’t people love me?’ Tears slowly trickled down her marble cheeks.
Frank breathed out. She looked like a child whose favourite doll had been taken away. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. He didn’t.
‘Carol, you know this isn’t right, for several reasons. You’re married, if your husband found out he’d be terribly hurt. I’m sure he loves you.’
She sniffed and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Frank passed her a handkerchief. ‘He doesn’t care. He knows I need someone to love me.’
Her husband knows of her affairs? He condones them? Frank didn’t believe Adam Pemberton would turn a blind eye to her infidelity.
‘You mean you’ve been unfaithful to him before?’
She pouted. ‘Not very often.’
He didn’t think he’d better mention the tutors.
‘Why haven’t you left him?’
Her eyes widened. ‘I love him, he’s David’s father. I don’t want to leave him.’
‘You say he knows about …? How can he go on as normal if he can’t trust you?’
She shook her head in irritation. ‘You don’t understand. I think he knows, but he won’t ask me because he’s afraid of the truth. He loves me. If he had proof he’d have to do something about it.’
This was beyond Frank’s understanding, and all he wanted to do was to finish this scene and get back to normality. He was out of his depth. ‘I think we ought to move out of here. Could you drop me off at the car park?’
She flushed, her eyes narrowing. ‘What are you going to do about David? I expect you’ll want to stop investigating the case.’
‘No, on the contrary, Carol. I want to find David, for you, for your husband and for David himself. I’d understand if you didn’t want to see me again and if you asked your husband to drop the case, but I hope you won’t do that. All this is my fault. I haven’t been professional.’ How would he explain to Laurel and the others if the case was closed?
She leant back, her face expressionless, all tears gone. ‘No, I want you to go on with it, but I don’t want to see you again, send one of the other detectives if you want to ask any more questions.’
‘How will you explain that to your husband?’
‘I won’t. If he wants to see you, then I suppose you’ll have to come to the house, but I won’t see you again.’ She got out of the back seat and moved behind the driving wheel. ‘If you think I’m driving you back to Minsmere beach, you can think again. The rain’s eased. You can walk.’
That put him in his place. He opened the car door, climbed out, then turned. ‘Are you OK to drive back to Aldeburgh? I could drive you.’
‘I don’t want to be with you anymore. Goodbye.’
Frank zipped up his waterproof and walked away from the car, turning left onto the road leading to Dunwich. He’d walked a few yards when he heard the noise of Carol’s car engine and the sound of wheels on gravel. He looked back; the Rover was speeding off. The wind increased and the rain started again, as cold and horizontal as before. He deserved it. He took his punishment with the same humility as the Abbey monks centuries ago took punishments for their transgressions.
Chapter 18
Laurel and Stuart sat opposite each other on comfy armchairs in the lounge of his bungalow in Leiston. She’d told him what Mabel’s problem was.
‘We can take it slowly. I’m a bit rusty myself,’ he said, grinning like a naughty schoolboy. ‘Will you have a word with her when you get back? Tell her I’ll be over tonight and I’ll take her out for a meal, if she’d like that. Mind you, not sure what’s open on a Sunday evening in March.’
‘Of course, I will, Stuart. But we’d arranged to have a brief meeting tonight before going to the school tomorrow.’
Stuart grimaced. ‘Damn, forgot all about that. You going straight back?’
Laurel was unsure; she didn’t want to go back to Greyfriars. ‘No. I thought I’d have a drive. I need to do some thinking.’
Stuart looked at her quizzically. ‘Worried about something? Wouldn’t be Frank, would it?’
Laurel avoided his gaze. ‘No. I just need a bit of space, that’s all. I’m still upset about Nancy’s brother; I wish I’d followed my instincts and broken into the house and rescued him. It’s shaken my confidence and I feel I’ve let Nancy down.’ She hadn’t opened up to any of the others, even Frank, about how she felt, but Stuart was such a comforting person; you could trust him to give a balanced and truthful answer. Perhaps not the one that would give you a f
alse sense of relief, that it wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t have done anything else, but he’d tell you truthfully what he felt.
‘You made an assumption it was Nancy coming back with Clara. I think if I’d been in your shoes I’d have done the same. It was just fate Nancy wasn’t at home and couldn’t contact you. You’ll have to accept what happened. You can’t play it over again. I wouldn’t say forget it, Laurel, I’d say learn from it. It’s a bad experience, but in this line of work, we’re going to have those. You’re a strong-minded woman. Use that gift and get over it. Get over it, but don’t forget it.’
She leant towards him. ‘You’re a wise man, Stuart. Thank you.’ She kissed his cheek.
Stuart coloured. ‘I’ll have to confess to Mabel I’ve been getting intimate with a ravishing blonde.’
She laughed. ‘This ravishing blonde could do with being ravished.’ She laughed again at the expression on his face. ‘That was not an invitation, Mr Elderkin; you need to save your sexual energies for Mabel. Time I went!’
He got up and helped her into her waterproof. ‘I think it is. You’d better go for a long walk and cool down. What with Mrs Pemberton and her liking for young tutors, and now you fancying a fat ex-cop, my faith in womanhood’s taken a beating.’
She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. ‘See you later.’
Laurel waved to Stuart who was standing at the gate of his bungalow despite the rain driving in from the east.
He waved back, a broad smile on his face. She turned on the ignition. Stuart gave a last salute and turned back to his open front door. Their conversation hadn’t been as embarrassing as she’d feared; he’d quickly latched on to Mabel’s fears and difficulties.
Her car faced towards Aldeburgh and she decided to drive that way rather than turn it round and go back to Dunwich. As she approached the left turning to Thorpeness, just as she’d done in September, last year, when she was meeting Frank to persuade him not to tell the school her sister had been murdered, she hesitated, then signalled left, and steered the car towards the sea and Thorpeness.