Partners in Love

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Partners in Love Page 17

by Saunders, Jean


  ‘That’s not fair!’ I broke in hotly. ‘Cathy’s the stubborn one!’

  They stared at me in surprise and Mother said sharply, ‘Don’t speak to your father like that, Cherry, and don’t interfere in what is none of your business.’

  I learned my lesson, but I had declared my allegiance without even considering it, and from time to time I thought about them both and wondered if they were happy. And later, as the boys from the tennis club started to call round, I unconsciously compared them, always to their disadvantage, with Simon Slade.

  Until this evening, I had only seen him once more. He and Cathy came up north to show us the new baby—a girl at last. It was just before my sixteenth birthday and I was all legs and freckles. Cathy seemed smaller—no doubt because I myself had grown—and even paler than before, and there was a tight note in her voice when she spoke to Simon. He himself was tense and restless, unable to keep still for more than a few minutes at a time, and his eyes were brooding and unhappy. I startled myself with a sudden longing to take his hand and comfort him, and at the temerity of the thought my face had flamed and I’d had to turn hastily away. Remembering the incident now, my cheeks were hot again.

  ‘I said,’ remarked David in a raised voice, ‘are you enjoying it?’

  I started guiltily, wrenching my mind back to the present. ‘Oh—yes, thanks.’

  ‘Well, I’m still not clear who that fellow was, but I must say I don’t care for the effect he’s had on you. I might as well not be here, for all the notice you’ve taken of me this evening.’

  ‘Oh David, I’m sorry,’ I said contritely. ‘It’s just that it was rather a shock, coming on someone out of the past like that.’

  ‘But not your past, surely?’

  ‘My very tender youth!’ I said with a smile, and he was satisfied.

  It was eleven when I let myself into the flat, and Sue had just made the cocoa. ‘Hello, you’re early! We weren’t expecting you for another hour.’

  ‘What was the film like?’ asked Lucy from under a curtain of hair that was drying in front of the gas fire.

  ‘Much the same as usual.’ I found myself a mug and held it out to Sue.

  ‘You’re somewhat flushed tonight,’ she remarked astutely. ‘Don’t tell me David’s making some headway at last!’

  I laughed a little self-consciously. ‘No, as a matter of fact I bumped into someone else while I was waiting for him. Someone I was madly in love with at the age of twelve!’

  ‘Precocious little beast!’ Lucy sat up, tossing back her mane of hair. ‘Come on then, tell us more. Who was this dream boat?’

  ‘It wouldn’t convey anything to you, but he married my cousin.’

  ‘The one who’s divorced?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘Ho, ho!’ said Lucy, reaching up for her cocoa. ‘Re-enter hero, no longer out of reach!’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said sharply.

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Beg pardon, I’m sure!’

  ‘Sorry. It was just—well, it shook me rather —seeing him, that’s all.’

  ‘Apparently,’ said Sue drily. ‘What happened? Are you going to see him again?’

  ‘David arrived before anything was fixed. He did say he’d phone but he probably won’t.’

  ‘He might, though,’ said Lucy thoughtfully, ‘for news of his ex-wife.’

  ‘Thanks for nothing.’

  ‘Goodness, Cherry, I’ve never known you so touchy! Have you still got a thing about him?’

  I gazed reflectively into the fire. ‘To be honest, I don’t know. If they’d gone on living near us and we’d seen a lot of them, no doubt the glamour would have worn off. But since they didn’t, I never had a chance to grow out of it. He’s probably been at the back of my mind ever since, as a kind of—blueprint. All of which,’ I added, standing up suddenly, ‘is extremely foolish, since my parents would have a fit if I so much as had a drink with him.’

  I set the empty mug down on the mantelpiece with suppressed violence, aware of the exchanged glances behind my back.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ I said.

  The next ten days stretched bleakly into eternity. At the office I struggled to keep my mind on the job, but from the moment I entered the flat in the evening until the moment I got into bed, I was poised to answer the telephone. And of course it rang frequently—Tim, for Lucy; Steven, for Sue; David, for me. And each time it rang, I thought of the song, Let it please be him. And, as in the song, it never was.

  At the end of two weeks I’d had enough. I took myself firmly in hand, ran through all the reasons why he would never phone, and why it was better that he shouldn’t, and decided to close my mind to him once and for all. And that evening he phoned.

  ‘Cherry?’ Despite my resolve, I had flown to answer it. And at the sound of his voice at last, my knees gave way and I sat down suddenly. ‘That you, Cherry?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Simon here. Sorry not to have rung before but I mislaid your number. Still, all’s well that ends well. I was wondering if you’d like to come out for a meal one evening?’

  The arrangements were made and I carefully replaced the receiver. Lucy said softly, ‘Hold on, Cherry. You’re riding for a fall.’

  ‘Agreed. “And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men—”

  ‘Then why risk it? You said your parents wouldn’t approve.’

  ‘I’m old enough to make my own decisions now,’ I answered, with more assurance than I felt. But the next evening, as I sat across the table from Simon, I thought ruefully how unnecessary had been her warnings and how futile my own tenuous dreams over the last two weeks—for there was no hint of romance about Simon. In fact his manner, pleasant, relaxed and slightly teasing, was that of an older brother making the best of an evening in the company of his young sister. Yet what had I expected, I demanded savagely of myself: hearts and flowers? Two weeks ago, it had taken him all this time to recognize me. No doubt Lucy had been right after all and he simply wanted news of Cathy. As though to underline the bitterness of my conclusion, he handed the menu back to the waiter and said easily, ‘Now, tell me all the news. How’s the family? Your father still at the same bank?’

  ‘Yes,’ I answered brightly. ‘He’ll be there until he retires now.’ Hands clenched in my lap, I waited, determined to volunteer nothing. He drew on his cigarette, put his head back and blew the smoke gently towards the ceiling. ‘And Cathy?’ he asked casually. ‘How is she these days?’

  If he wasn’t embarrassed, I didn’t see why I should be. I strove to keep my voice as offhand as his, ‘I haven’t seen her for a while, but I believe she’s very well.’

  ‘And the children?’ A little muscle in his jaw let him down. Not quite so casual after all.

  ‘I’m sorry, I really haven’t any news of them. I’ve been down here for over a year now, and the last few times I’ve been home I didn’t see them.’

  ‘No. I see.’ His eyes were still on the smoke. Perhaps he was reflecting that he was getting small return for the price of a meal. I moistened my lips.

  ‘You haven’t seen them yourself, then?’

  ‘Not yet, no. Since I returned from Africa last month I’ve been desperately busy, and I don’t particularly want to have to go up there and beard the lion—or lioness—in its den. It’s a question really of arranging for them to come down here and see me. After all, I’m allowed what is quaintly called “reasonable access.”’

  At last his eyes came down to mine, and they were faintly embarrassed. ‘I probably shouldn’t be speaking to you like this; it puts you in a difficult position. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said inadequately. I could hardly tell him that I’d always been on his side. We were silent while the waiter brought the first course and laid it in front of us. I glanced round the restaurant, enjoying the unostentatious luxury. Very different from the meals I shared with David.

  ‘Now, let’s talk of more pleasant things. How lon
g did you say you’ve been in the Big City?’

  ‘About eighteen months.’

  ‘And I suppose life is one long social round, with plenty of men at your feet? What it is to be young!’

  My eyes flew to his face and he laughed. ‘Come on now, you can tell Uncle! How many hearts have you broken? That young man the other evening seemed rather possessive, I thought.’ He waited, smiling, for my response, and when I didn’t—because I couldn’t—make any, he laid his hand briefly over mine. ‘I haven’t embarrassed you, have I? You mustn’t mind me, I’m afraid I’m not used to young girls.’

  ‘I am not,’ I said icily, ‘a young girl.’

  ‘Oh hell, I’ve done it again!’ His rueful expression would have been comic if I hadn’t felt so miserable. As it was, my only concern was to stop him thinking of me as a child, and I blurted out recklessly,

  ‘At any rate, I’m four years older than Cathy was when she married you!’

  There was a brief silence while I stared at him, aghast, watching the amusement fade from his face.

  ‘Meaning that at least you’ve more sense than she had? She was courageous, though, you must give her that. Despite all the arguments about being too young to know her own mind, she was determined to go through with it. And look where it got her.’

  I couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Simon, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I don’t know what made me say that.’

  After a moment he said shortly, ‘I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have let fly like that. It was just the old defence mechanism clicking into place. You happened to touch on rather a sore point.’

  So he was still in love with her. He had been trying to be pleasant to me for her sake, and I had unaccountably rounded on him. In a last attempt to salvage the ruins of this longed-for evening, I said carefully, ‘Tell me about Africa. It must have been fascinating out there.’

  Gratefully he seized on the lifeline I had thrown him and the evening slid past very much on the surface, with both of us being extremely careful to avoid any subject verging on the personal. He took me home but refused my invitation to come in for a cup of coffee.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Cherry. It couldn’t have been easy for you, and I want you to know that I appreciate it. I’m sorry I was so prickly earlier on. Take care of yourself, and remember me to your parents when you write.’

  As I let myself into the flat I reflected bleakly that, if David had only been on time that evening two weeks ago, I should have been spared a great deal of unhappiness—and Simon Slade what must have been a most unpleasant evening.

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