He decided that he had to find out more about her. Maybe she needed money and was embarrassed to mention it. He resolved to bring the subject up.
When they entered, Claudia rushed about making a great show of fixing the bed and generally tidying up. She was most undomesticated. A cleaning woman came in every day except for weekends. She made a disgusted ‘ugh’ when she came to the dirty dishes in the kitchen.
David followed her in. ‘I’ll buy you a dishwashing machine,’ he said, slipping his arms around her waist.
She turned, laughing. ‘You’re joking, of course. A dishwasher! What a terrible present. I’ll have something more romantic than that, thank you!’
‘What do you want? We’ll go shopping tomorrow.’
‘I want, let me see now. I want a Ferrari, two mink coats, lots of diamonds, a beautiful penthouse in New York, and a villa on the Riviera!’ She started to laugh. ‘Can you afford me?’
‘I’m serious. Will you settle for a mink jacket? Go and order it tomorrow!’
She stared at him and licked her lips. ‘I’d adore that. But if you want me to have it, surprise me. None of this ordering jazz. I like surprises.’
He grinned. ‘A surprise it will be.’ He wondered if now was the time to bring up her financial situation, and decided against it. Later, when they were in bed.
‘When do you turn into Cinderella tonight?’ she asked suddenly.
‘I should leave about eight-thirty.’ He stroked her hair. ‘But I can always stretch a point, depending on what the main attraction is.’
She giggled and pulled off her sweater. ‘The second feature is starting now. The main attraction should prove to be very interesting indeed!’
* * *
Sometime later, when David looked at his watch, he was surprised to find it was well after nine. Claudia lay asleep beside him, her long hair in disarray around her face, her makeup smudged and faded. She looked very young. Her clothes were scattered around the bedroom, leading in a trail from the kitchen. As if she sensed him looking at her, she opened her eyes, yawned, stretched, and made contented noises.
‘You’re like a cat,’ he said, ‘sometimes an innocent little kitten and sometimes the wildest, dirtiest alley cat around.’
‘I like that. I can see myself telling it to someone in the years to come. There was this guy, and he said to me, you’re like a cat, sometimes—’
He put his hand over her mouth. ‘Don’t say that. There will be no other guys, only me. I love you and I want to marry you.’ He surprised himself with the words, but there they were, spoken aloud for all to hear.
‘You know, it’s amazing,’ she said, ‘how very simple it is for married men to propose. I guess it’s an easy thing for them to say, because really they are all safe and secure, and they know they can lay out this tasty bit of bait without a hope in hell of getting trapped themselves. Marry me, my darling, only don’t let my wife find out!’
He was furious. So, all right, he hadn’t really meant it. Correction, he had meant it, but, as she had said, he was secure in the knowledge that it was not possible. However, the fact that she realized this infuriated him. Why did women always seem to have so much insight into the things men said?
‘I could get a divorce,’ he offered.
‘Are you going to?’ she replied coolly.
‘I don’t know.’ He pulled her to him. ‘It’s not just me and Linda; there’s the children to consider. But I do love you, and one day, when my kids are a little bit older, well then, everything will be okay. In the meantime I can look after you. I don’t want you to work. No more interviews. I’ll give you money.’
She stared up at him with her large, slanty green eyes. ‘I’m glad you have it all figured out.’ She caressed his back and he felt desire rise up in him again. She had only to touch him and he wanted her. ‘There’s only one little problem. I don’t want to marry you. Not even if you were free, and we could rush off and do it now.’ She wriggled away from him and got off the bed. She stood looking at him, completely naked, and continued, ‘I want to do what I want to do, whenever I want. No ties, no strings. I don’t want marriage, it means nothing to me. So don’t offer it like it’s a golden hoop, because I’m just not going to jump. So I love you now, today. But tomorrow, who knows? That’s me. I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not, so why don’t you do the same?’
He couldn’t control the choking excitement he felt. Her words didn’t matter. He dragged her back on the bed and let loose his fury and frustrations. She tried to struggle but he crushed her beneath him until her struggling stopped and became part of him.
For David it was devastating; when he was with Claudia it always was. Each time it was more, emotionally and physically.
‘You’d better get up. It’s past the witching hour, and wifey will be waiting.’ She stretched languidly.
‘Don’t be a bitch. Anyway, I think I’ll stay.’
She kissed him. They phoned Linda, and Claudia pretended to be the operator so that the call appeared to be long distance.
Afterward she said, ‘No bastard would talk to me that way and get away with it. I feel sorry for your wife.’
‘Do you?’ he said shortly. It annoyed him when she discussed Linda.
‘Yes, I do, although it’s her own fault.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘What made me more exciting to you than her? Because I’m newer and younger and prettier. Am I prettier?’
‘Yes, you’re prettier.’
‘But you shouldn’t have to look around. She should make bloody sure that she’s always new to you. Most women seem to get married and then stop trying. We’ve caught the fish, now we can put away the bait and only bring it out on special occasions. I’m not saying that you wouldn’t screw around once in a while. All men do, even the happiest of married men. But that’s all it would be. There would be no affairs like me; you wouldn’t need them.’
‘Thank you, Marriage Counsellor Parker, but I have a feeling that you are addressing the wrong party.’
‘Shall I speak to your wife? What shall I say? “Darling, in strict confidence, I’m banging your husband. This isn’t really necessary. If only you weren’t so dullsville he might fancy you again. Liven up a bit, and back he will come.”’
They both started to laugh. ‘You are a bitch. Is that why I love you?’
‘No,’ she giggled. ‘You know why you love me.’
They got up and she busied herself in the kitchen making sandwiches while David prowled around the flat thinking how he could bring up the subject of her finances again. She had annoyed him with her little speech about not wanting to marry. But really he wasn’t too annoyed, because on thinking it over he decided she had only said it as a defence mechanism. She knew they couldn’t get married, so to save face she had probably convinced herself that she didn’t want marriage anyway. On thinking it over even further, he was almost pleased, because it put him in the enviable position of being able to have his cake and eat it too. He didn’t really want to leave Linda. In his own way he loved her, although she had ceased to attract him sexually shortly after they were married. He had compensated for this by different affairs throughout the years, and to Linda he had been more than generous materially. She was the perfect wife figure. A lovely hostess and mother.
No, he certainly didn’t want to leave Linda. He felt no particular guilt about being unfaithful to her. Although if she was to him… But no, that was unthinkable. The very idea of Linda being unfaithful was ridiculous.
Claudia was licking mayonnaise off her fingers in the kitchen. She wore a pink kimono and had tied her hair away from her face.
‘You look about fifteen,’ he said.
‘And you look about fifty. What is on your mind? Are you brooding because I turned down your gallant proposal?’
‘I want to talk to you seriously. Bring the sandwiches and come and sit down.’
She followed him into the living room, and munching a sandwic
h, sat down on the floor near his feet. ‘What seems to be bothering you, David?’
‘Look, darling. I’ve been thinking a lot about you.’
She laughed. ‘I should hope so.’
‘This is serious,’ he continued. ‘I’ve been worried about how you manage financially. This apartment can’t be cheap, and I want to help you out. I mean, frankly, where do you get your money?’
She sat very still. Her eyes glinted dangerously. However, she managed to keep her voice pleasant. ‘Well, baby,’ she said sweetly, ‘what makes you want to know?’
He didn’t observe the danger signals. ‘Of course I want to know. Do you get an allowance from your father, or what?’
‘Come on. I haven’t seen my family in five years, and I don’t care if I ever see them again. My old man wouldn’t give me a penny to go to the bathroom with.’ She sat silently then, and David realized that she had no intention of answering him.
‘Claudia, I want to know,’ he said sharply.
She arose. ‘I don’t like being questioned. I’m not asking you for anything. I don’t want anything from you!’ She started to shout. ‘Leave me alone with your questions. What’s on your mind? Where do you think I get my money from? Do you think I’m a whore? Well, if I was, wouldn’t I be asking you for money?’ She was crying now, and he was shocked that he had provoked such anger. ‘It’s my business where I get my money from, and if you don’t like the idea of that, then let’s just forget it,’ she yelled.
He caught her mood of fury. ‘All right,’ he said coldly, ‘we’ll forget it.’ He marched into the bedroom and dressed. She didn’t follow him.
When he came out, she was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine and didn’t look up.
He stood there, undecided about whether to walk out or not. ‘Are you going to tell me?’ he demanded.
She continued reading and didn’t answer him.
‘Good-bye,’ he said, and left.
In the hall outside her front door he immediately regretted this move. He couldn’t go home, and he debated making it up with Claudia, but that was impossible. If he gave way to her now, he would be admitting defeat, and he never admitted defeat to any woman. No, he decided, let her burn a little, and she would soon come running back. They always did.
He went downstairs to his car, having decided to spend the night in a Turkish bath. He was puzzled about why Claudia was so secretive about the source of her income; it could only mean that there was something he wouldn’t like. Well, in that case, when she told him, he would stop it, whatever it was, and then she would be dependent on him, which was exactly the way he wanted it.
He drove to the Turkish baths in Jermyn Street, and after going through the hot and cold steam baths and having a massage, he was quite happy to settle down in his small white cubicle, where he promptly fell asleep. Tomorrow he would settle everything.
Chapter Four
Paul looked younger than Linda remembered him. He was wearing a black sweater and tight black trousers. She had decided to wear a plain dark-blue dress after discarding several other outfits. They met at a prearranged spot. Paul helped her out of her car and said he would drive, as he knew the way.
‘I’m glad you changed your mind. What did it? My unbelievable charm?’ He grinned.
‘I don’t know.’ All the wine she had drunk and the rushing to get ready had finally made her tired. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know why I’m here, really.’
He looked at her. ‘I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think you’ll be sorry you came. In fact, I promise you that.’
They drove a short way along the Heath until Paul pulled into the drive of an old rambling house. Its windows were ablaze with lights, and the belting voice of Solomon Burke screamed out from the stereo. A couple were arguing in the open doorway, and, as they arrived, several more people came pushing through the door with much laughter and yelling. Paul parked the car and they went in.
The scene that greeted their eyes was wild to say the least. The front door led into a small hall with big rooms off either side of it and a large staircase in the centre. The staircase was littered with various people, a lot of men with beards, girls sitting and standing, and everyone steadily drinking. The room on the right was filled with couples, dancing or just standing and necking. There appeared to be no furniture, only a rather battered stereo set balanced precariously on the windowsill. The room on the left featured a thin girl with stringy red hair taking off her clothes to the beat of some bongos being hammered on by a West Indian clad only in white shorts. No one was taking much notice of them. Mostly people were watching a blond boy at the other end of the room, who was standing on a chair, quite naked, reciting an obscene poem.
Paul squeezed Linda’s arm. ‘Come on,’ he said, leading her up the stairs, greeting people as he went. ‘Let’s get rid of your coat. Then we can get a drink.’
Upstairs there were more rooms equally devoid of furniture. Paul steered her into a room with a bed creaking under the weight of many coats. Two girls were staring deep into each other’s eyes in a corner, and another girl was either asleep or had passed out at the bottom of the bed.
Linda took off her coat and felt too dressed up in her neat blue dress. Paul said that she looked great, and took her to find a drink. They went downstairs to the room on the left. The redhead had abandoned her strip and was sitting on the floor, someone’s sweater covering her. She grabbed hold of Paul’s leg as he went by. ‘Hello, sexy. Wanna make it?’ Her voice was slurred. ‘I’ve got a great body. How ’bout you?’
Linda found herself separated from Paul, so she headed toward a table where the drinks appeared to be coming from.
A fat man pounced up behind her. ‘You look very smart,’ he said. ‘Who are you?’ His face was beaded with sweat and his breath a combination of onions and stale beer. ‘You want a drink?’
‘Yes, please,’ she said, trying to edge away from the full blast of his breath.
He poured her a very large Scotch in a cracked glass. She drank it down hastily.
‘Let us go and dance,’ he said, and put his arm around her waist. She could feel the hotness of his hand penetrate her dress through to her skin.
‘Not just now,’ she said, trying to disentangle herself.
He licked his pudgy lips, and then Paul arrived. ‘Hello, Bruno. I see you’ve met Linda.’
The fat man removed his arm. ‘Oh, she’s yours, is she?’ he said hastily. ‘I don’t know what they see in you.’ He wiped his mouth with a plump pink hand and ambled away.
Paul laughed. ‘Don’t take any notice of him,’ he said, and then was suddenly serious. ‘You’re great, you know that?’ He took her hand.
‘Thank you,’ she said. She had never been able to accept compliments easily. Quickly she drained her glass. ‘I’d like another drink.’
He poured her a large Scotch which she drank down fast, feeling its burning effect almost immediately. ‘I think I should go home,’ she said weakly. ‘I’m almost drunk, you know.’
‘I know.’ He pushed her toward the wall, and then leaned forward and kissed her.
She closed her eyes as she felt the intimacy of his tongue penetrate her lips. His mouth was persistent and demanding. She felt she should push him away but didn’t have the strength, and anyway, she didn’t want to. It was a long time since she had been kissed like this. David never kissed her anymore, and she had forgotten how exciting it could be.
‘Oh, so here you are.’ The whiny voice was familiar, the note of anger unmistakable. Paul straightened up. Melanie was standing there, her yellow hair hanging in a straight curtain around her thin, flushed face. ‘I thought you were coming back for me.’ She glared at Linda. ‘Or have you been so busy that you couldn’t find time?’
‘I’m sorry, Mel, thought I said I’d see you here.’
‘Well, you didn’t.’ Her voice was becoming shrill. ‘And how’s Mrs. Cooper? Recovered, I see.’
‘Can it, Mel,’
said Paul abruptly. He steered her away from Linda and into the hall. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.’
‘That’s the way what is?’ Her dull eyes filled with tears.
‘It’s been great, but we’ve been heading this way a long time now, and it’s best to forget it. I still like you and all that bit, but, well, you know…’
‘No, I don’t know. And anyway, what can you see in that old bag in there?’ She started to cry. ‘I hate you, Paul.’
‘Look, kid, you’re seventeen, there’ll be lots of other guys. You’ll soon forget me. We’re just not—’
‘We’re not what?’ she interrupted angrily. ‘God, I hate you!’
He shrugged and walked away. Linda was deep in conversation with the fat man again. ‘Do you want to go?’ he asked.
‘No.’ Her eyes were bright. She was now very drunk. ‘Bruno’s going to teach me a new dance.’
‘Bruno can find a girlfriend of his own. I’ll teach you anything you want to know.’ He warned Bruno off with a look, took her into the other room where the dancing was going on, and held her very tight. ‘I want to sleep with you,’ he whispered.
‘I want to sleep with you too,’ she whispered back. ‘I mean, I don’t want to, but it would be nice, but I… Oh, God, I think I had better get some air.’
He kissed her again. This time she kissed him back, and their mouths met in mutual enjoyment. They stood still among the dancers, lost in their own little world. His tongue explored her mouth, and she felt a sudden urgent desire for him. He pressed her very close and then released her.
‘You wait here,’ he said. ‘I’ll get your coat.’
She stood patiently waiting, the liquor she had drunk falling over her in waves. She couldn’t think clearly at all, her head buzzed, and she wanted to be back again in the safety of Paul’s arms. There was a lot of noise coming from the hall, and she wandered out there. Two men were fighting. It was the fat man, Bruno, and the West Indian who had been playing the bongos earlier. They screamed obscenities at each other and rolled about on the floor. No one tried to stop them.
The World is Full of Married Men Page 3