by Kitty Neale
‘That’s my fault. Sorry, Mum, when I rang last night I really was worried.’
‘Yeah, well as you can see your gran is fine.’
Sally nipped her lower lip, wondering now if she should be more worried about Arthur. His stump was sore. Was it infected? ‘Now that you’re here do you mind if I go home? Arthur has taken the day off work and maybe he feels worse than he’s letting on.’
‘Of course I don’t mind, and looking at your gran, like me, I reckon she’s ready for forty winks.’
Sally didn’t need telling twice and called goodbye, hurrying to Maple Terrace, hoping she was worried about nothing. Her stomach was churning with anxiety by the time she arrived, and rushing in she made straight for the living room. She flung open the door then froze on the threshold by the tableau before her. No, no, it can’t be, she agonised, her mind refusing to accept what she was seeing.
With eyes rounded like saucers now, Sally baulked as she finally took in the scene. Bile rose in her throat and her hand rose to cover her mouth in horror. Arthur was sitting on the sofa with Patsy straddled across his lap, both naked from the waist down. The two were heaving and panting, Arthur’s hands gripping Patsy’s hips as he pumped her up and down.
His eyes were closed in ecstasy, but hearing her horrified gasp they suddenly flew open. ‘Sally!’
Patsy turned, a look of triumph on her face, and that was all Sally saw as she turned and fled the room.
She didn’t hear Arthur’s frantic call, she couldn’t hear anything for the blood pounding in her ears. Leaving the door open, she fled, heading for Candle Lane.
‘Get off me, Patsy!’
‘That wasn’t what you were saying a few minutes ago.’
Arthur groaned as he pushed her away and, recalling the look on Sally’s face, he felt sick. Christ, what had he done?
He’d been surprised when Patsy knocked on the door, saying she’d just popped in to see how he was. He’d invited her in and they’d sat on the sofa chatting, just small talk at first, but then Arthur found himself unburdening to Patsy, telling her that Sally no longer fancied him. She had been sympathetic, said he was gorgeous and that Sally was mad, whilst moving ever closer to him. As Patsy’s body touched his, the atmosphere became charged and the next thing he knew, her hand was seductively running up the inside of his leg. He’d responded immediately, and Patsy had seen that, her smile knowing as she raised an eyebrow.
Arthur groaned. He should have stopped her, but felt powerless with lust as she had peeled off her short skirt. Skimpy little knickers followed, and then she was astride him, her tiny hands unzipping his trousers.
It had been all her. She had guided him in, aroused him to fever pitch, but just as he was reaching a frantic climax Sally had walked in.
‘Get dressed, Patsy,’ he growled.
‘Don’t you want to finish what we started?’
‘No!’ he shouted. ‘My wife just caught us, and you saw the look on her face. Haven’t you got any shame?’
‘You said yourself that Sally doesn’t want you now. In fact, I think she’s got her eye on Joe. When we’re alone she never stops talking about him.’
‘Don’t talk rot. Joe’s not only my partner, he’s my friend, and I trust him.’
‘Yes, but do you trust Sally?’
Arthur pondered her words. Joe was a good-looking bloke, and unlike him he was whole. It was no wonder that Sally was attracted to him, and no doubt Patsy still felt the same about him too. In fact, it was possible that she was annoyed that Sally fancied him and so this was payback. ‘What is this really about, Patsy? Is it jealousy? Do you still want Joe? Is that it?’
‘No, I don’t. We didn’t really click, and maybe it’s because from the first time I saw you, I fancied you something rotten.’
‘I doubt that. Just get dressed,’ he said, unable to help watching as Patsy slowly began to pull her knickers over her hips. He licked his lips, despite everything, tempted again, but then heard a sound in the hall. ‘For God’s sake, Sally’s back! Quick, get your skirt on!’
Patsy had just stepped into it when the sitting-room door opened, and Arthur’s breath left his body when he saw who was standing on the threshold. ‘Mum,’ he gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’
He saw his mother’s eyes narrow, saw the way her lips tightened, and then she advanced across the room, her face livid as she marched up to Patsy. ‘You, miss, finish putting your skirt on and then get out! And you, Arthur, I suggest you zip up your fly!’
Arthur looked down in horror and quickly fastened his trousers.
‘Get out!’ he heard his mother say again and, hastily pulling up her skirt, Patsy walked out.
‘How could you, Arthur! And with a tart?’ she cried, as soon as the door closed.
‘She isn’t a tart, Mum. Patsy is a mobile hairdresser and she lives upstairs.’
‘Oh, and that’s supposed to make a difference, is it? She knows you’re a married man, and as far as I’m concerned that makes her a tart. How could you do this to Sally?’
‘Sally doesn’t want me and she’s made that plain.’
‘Don’t give me that as an excuse. I’ve known Sally since she was ten years old and she’s like a daughter to me. She loves you, and doesn’t deserve this,’ she said, wringing her hands. ‘Don’t you realise that if Sally finds out this could be the end of your marriage?’
‘She already knows.’
‘What! Sally knows? But . . .’
‘She caught us and ran out. I can’t believe you didn’t bump into her.’
‘Well, I must admit I was surprised to find your street door wide open. I rang the site, but Joe told me you were taking the day off. I thought it the ideal opportunity to talk to you about your father.’
‘Talk about what?’
‘It’s just that I’m a bit worried about his health. His back’s playing him up but he won’t see anyone about it.’ Elsie then shook her head impatiently. ‘That hardly seems important now, not after what I’ve just seen. Arthur, what on earth possessed you?’
‘Patsy doesn’t find me repulsive and . . . well . . . she offered.’
‘She offered!’ Elsie spluttered.
‘Yes, Mum, and she made all the moves. Unlike Sally, she doesn’t see me as a cripple.’
Elsie’s eyes narrowed again and Arthur could have kicked himself. He wouldn’t put it past his mother to have a go at Patsy, and quickly said, ‘I’ve been home for ages now, but Sally has hardly been near me. In bed she keeps her distance, and she can’t bear to look at my leg.’
‘If Sally is keeping a distance between you, there must be a reason, and I can’t believe it’s because she finds you repulsive. Are you sure you aren’t imagining it?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. Sally makes me feel less than a man and I can’t stand it.’
‘All right, maybe she is having trouble adjusting, but that’s still no excuse for what you’ve done. Look, I’ll go round to Candle Lane and talk to her.’
‘No, Mum, keep out of it, and anyway, what makes you think she’ll be at Candle Lane?’
‘Where else would she go?’
‘I said keep out of it.’
‘Why? Don’t you want her back?’
Arthur pondered his mother’s words. Yes, of course he wanted Sally back, but if she couldn’t stand the sight of him, what was the point? His thoughts turned to his daughter, and he groaned. If he and Sally didn’t patch things up, when would he see Angel? He couldn’t think straight. ‘Mum, I don’t know what I want at the moment, and to be honest, if Sally can’t accept me the way I am, there’s no future for us.’
‘I can’t believe you, son. Sally caught you with Patsy, she must be heartbroken, and all you’re thinking about is yourself.’
‘I doubt she’s heartbroken,’ Arthur retorted, pushing away the memory of the horror on Sally’s face when she had seen him with Patsy. ‘She’s got her eye on someone else.’
‘Rubbish! You’re just saying that to sa
lve your conscience.’
‘No, I’m not. Patsy told me that she fancies Joe and that she never stops talking about him.’
‘I don’t believe it. I’m going to see Sally.’
‘No, Mum,’ Arthur called, but he was wasting his breath. Elsie stormed from the room like a ship in full sail, calling, ‘I’ll be back.’
Chapter Thirty-One
By the time Sally had reached the lane, she had slowed to a crawl, her earlier horror now replaced by anger. How could he? And with her! Bile rose again as she recalled the scene, the ecstasy on Arthur’s face imprinted on her mind.
She was his wife, the one who was beside him in bed every night, but Arthur hadn’t made love to her since he came home from hospital. She had made all sorts of excuses for him in her mind, his tiredness, his worries about the building project, his painful stump, but it hadn’t stopped him when it came to Patsy.
When Sally reached number five she paused to draw breath, once more feeling tears flooding her eyes and wanting only the comfort of arms around her. ‘Oh, Mum,’ she cried, as she ran into the kitchen.
‘What on earth’s the matter?’
‘Arthur . . . Arthur. Oh, Mum,’ and sobbing, she ran forward.
For a moment her mother’s arms enfolded her, but then abruptly she was pushed away. ‘What is it? Has something happened to Arthur?’
Sally’s throat was so constricted with emotion that she could hardly speak. ‘No, but . . . he . . . he . . .’
‘Come on, Sally, pull yourself together. Tell me what’s happened.’
Hearing the stern tone of her mother’s voice, Sally felt as if she’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. ‘I caught him with another woman.’
Her mother’s eyes widened, and for a moment there was silence, but then she said, ‘Sally, start at the beginning.’
She sank on to a chair, fumbling with her words at first, then gradually able to recount the scene. Nausea rose again, and with her hand over her mouth she rushed to the toilet where bending over the bowl she was violently sick. When there was nothing left, she perched on the rim of the bath, brow beaded with perspiration and her throat burning.
Her mother appeared in the doorway. ‘Sally, are you all right?’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again.’
‘Of course you will. Now come downstairs and let’s talk about this.’
‘What’s there to talk about?’
‘Come on,’ she repeated. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
Tea, Sally thought, her mother’s answer to every crisis, as though the brew had some sort of magical qualities. Not this time, she thought as she followed her mother into the kitchen.
Whilst her mother set the kettle to boil, Sally sat down, her gran asking, ‘What are you going to do now, love?’
‘I don’t know, but as far as I’m concerned my marriage is over.’
‘Listen, Sally, I know you’re hurt, and I don’t blame you, but don’t make hasty decisions. Men are different to us. They’re ruled by what’s in their trousers and can sleep with a woman without emotions being involved. Why else do you think there are prostitutes?’
‘That’s no excuse, Gran. And anyway, Arthur wasn’t with a prostitute. He was with our upstairs neighbour.’
‘You’re not listening to me, girl. Arthur may have slept with another woman, but I’m sure it’s you he loves.’
‘But he betrayed me, Gran. He betrayed my trust and our marriage. I . . . I can’t forgive him.’
‘You’re in a state, and perhaps it’s too soon to talk about it.’
Sally glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was only just after three. She felt that her life had fallen apart, that nothing would ever be the same again, and it had all happened in less than two hours. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of weariness. She knew that she didn’t want to think about it any more, that her mind wanted to shut down. Her mother spoke, but her voice seemed to come from a great distance.
‘Why don’t you go and have a lie down? I’ll pick Angel up from school.’
Sally wanted to be alone, to crawl into a shell and never come out again. ‘All right, Mum,’ she said, rising to her feet.
‘Wait, Sally. What if Arthur comes round?’
‘He won’t do that. He’s too busy with Patsy.’
‘Don’t be silly. He’s bound to want to talk to you.’
‘Well, I don’t want to talk to him! If he comes round, as far as I’m concerned you can shut the door in his face.’ And on that note she left the room, climbing upstairs like a weary old woman.
Only five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Ruth was surprised to see Elsie on the step. ‘Blimey, that was quick! Did Arthur ring you?’
‘He didn’t need to. I turned up just after Sally ran off and he was still with that tart. Is Sally here?’
‘Yes, but she’s upstairs having a lie down. This has knocked her for six, Elsie.’
‘Do you mind if I go up to talk to her?’
‘Of course not, but at the moment I don’t think it’ll do any good.’
‘Maybe not, but I’d still like to see her.’
‘Go on up then. I’ve got to collect Angel from school, but I’ll see you when I get back.’
Elsie knocked softly on the bedroom door and opened it to see Sally sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over her face. ‘Can I come in, love?’
‘Elsie, what are you doing here?’ Sally asked, her eyes bruised with pain as she raised herself into a sitting position.
‘I know what Arthur has done and had to talk to you. You’re upset and I don’t blame you, but I’ve spoken to Arthur and he said some funny things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Are you repulsed by him now that he’s lost part of his leg?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘He said you keep a distance between you in bed?’
‘How would Arthur know that?’ Sally said bitterly. ‘He falls asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow.’
‘He also said that you’ve got your eye on his friend Joe.’
‘What!’
‘Is it true?’
‘No,’ Sally said, but then her eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Once, when Joe and Patsy came to dinner, Arthur was flirting with Patsy. I was annoyed, so much so that I got my own back by flirting with Joe.’
‘I see . . .’
‘It meant nothing, Elsie, and it’s no excuse for sleeping with another woman. I love Arthur, and until now I thought he loved me.’
Elsie sensed that Sally was telling the truth, and even if Arthur thought Sally was repulsed by his leg, it didn’t excuse what he had done. However, the thought of them breaking up was awful, and she fought for words that might mend bridges. ‘If you ask me, Arthur was led on by that girl. He said that she made all the moves, and I reckon she’s nothing but a slut. Please Sally, don’t let this break up your marriage. Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive him?’
‘I don’t think I can, and if anything, his excuses have made things worse. I can’t believe he’s blaming me, and I can’t believe he said that I’m repulsed by his leg. That’s utter rubbish, and he knows it. And as for Patsy leading Arthur on, well, he’s got a tongue and could have said no.’
It’s too early, Elsie thought, Sally’s wound deep. ‘Give it a few days, love, and maybe then you’ll see things differently.’
‘I doubt it, Elsie. I doubt it. Can I ask you a favour?’
‘Of course you can.’
‘I left without bringing anything with me, and both Angel and I will need clothes. When you go to Maple Terrace again, can you pack a few things for us?’
‘Yes, all right,’ Elsie said and, after stroking Sally’s hair for a moment, she left the room. Oh, son. What have you done?
Ruth had been to fetch Angel and was just coming in the street door as Elsie came downstairs. With an expectant expression she said, ‘Did Sally talk to you?’
‘Yes, but i
f anything I think I’ve made things worse. Where’s Angel?’
‘I let her play outside for a while. What did you say to Sally?’ Elsie recounted her conversation, ending with, ‘So you see, she now thinks that Arthur is blaming her for what happened.’
‘It sounds like he is to me,’ Ruth snapped. ‘None of this makes sense. Arthur says that Sally doesn’t go near him and makes him feel less than a man. But Sally says he’s been distant and cold with her since he came home from hospital. If you ask me, it seems that the two of them have got their wires crossed.’
Ruth frowned. ‘That still doesn’t excuse what he’s done, Elsie.’
‘I know, believe me I know. Anyway, I’d best be off. I told Sally I’d pick up a few things for her and I want another word with my son.’
‘Tell him not to come round here, at least for the time being,’ Ruth said hurriedly. ‘Sally is adamant that she doesn’t want to see him, and not only that, I’m so mad at him that I wouldn’t trust myself not to give him a piece of my mind.’
Elsie’s eyes clouded with distress. ‘Oh, Ruth, I’m so sorry.’
‘You don’t have to apologise,’ Ruth said as she laid a hand on Elsie’s arm. ‘It isn’t your fault.’
‘But he’s my own flesh and blood and I’m so ashamed of him. Not only that, what on earth is Bert going to say? He’ll probably disown the lad.’
‘I doubt that,’ Ruth consoled.
Elsie left with a heavy heart. She saw Angel playing, and stopped to give the child a kiss and a hug, but her thoughts were elsewhere as she made her way to Maple Terrace.
Please God, she prayed, don’t let this be the end of Sally and Arthur’s marriage.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was seven-thirty in the evening when Arthur heard a knock on the door. If it was his mother again she could clear off. He’d had just about enough of her lecturing.
Sally had told his mother a pack of lies, and he was fuming. She’d accused him of being distant and cold, when in truth it was the other way round. She also denied being repulsed by his leg and it seemed his mother believed her. Before leaving she had packed a suitcase of clothes for Sally and Angel, saying that he should stay away from Candle Lane for the time being. Bloody cheek! He wasn’t a child to be given orders. He’d go to Candle Lane if he wanted to, if only to give his wife a piece of his mind.