by RJ Hunter
William then reached out and pulled her towards him, kissing her hungrily.
Sally didn't respond the way he had expected her to, there was something holding her back, preventing her from submitting to his desires.
"Please, William, stop! I don't want this, not now." Her voice was decisive, but pained, and she pulled herself away from his grip.
"But Sally, you don't know what you're doing to me."
"I want things to be as they were. I want to love you, but I can't forget that you hurt me."
"Sally, please forgive me!" He pleaded, his voice full of emotion.
"You humiliated me in public, how could you do that to me?" She shouted, hammering at William's chest with her fists. "You hurt me so much!"
He let her pound away, until she grew tired, and the blows became little more than touches. He then took her in his arms and held her in silence, as if he were draining all the power from the demons that had consumed her soul.
"You are so strong, and brave Sally, and you are so loved. Nobody will ever hurt you again."
He heard her sob his name into his chest, and felt her arms go about him.
William kissed her forehead and led her towards the bathroom. He closed the door, and took his clothes off. He then stepped into the bath, before taking her hand and helping her into the hot, inviting water. He lifted the shirt over her head, and tossed it onto a chair. She was shaking, and felt cold to touch.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"Sally, you never have to say sorry to me. You are in my heart forever."
"We all have to say sorry sometimes, William."
He sat back in the steaming tub, his arms and legs draped tightly around her body, keeping her safe. Together, they lay in the soothing, cleansing water, their sadness and despair ebbing away under the light of a dozen flickering candles. She reached down to take his hand and rested her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart.
"William?"
"Yes, Sally?"
She glanced up at him, her deep blue eyes, still wet with tears.
"You're forgiven."
Lizzie, sat grim-faced in the student's clubhouse. She was sitting at a table with several other girls who were with players, but unlike them, she wasn't showing the slightest bit of enthusiasm about the celebrations. Mayhem was going on all around her, and the beer was flying, as it had been for most of the afternoon.
The university had won the Welsh College's Shield, and to top it, Ken had been the player to score the winning try. As with tradition, he was now required to drink the concoction known as Dai's Death. Dai was the legendary rugby player who scored the winning try when Falcondale last won the shield, over forty years earlier. During this monumental win, he had the tip of his nose bitten off. This, was later recovered and preserved in alcohol, and left lying in state at the student's club.
The bottle was opened to rapturous applause, and Ken, standing at the bar, legs akimbo, and still clad in his black and amber rugby kit, surveyed the contents with a look of grave concern.
Slowly, the chant of Dai! Dai! Dai! began to increase in volume, until it reached ear-shattering intensity. Ken reached for the bottle, put it to his lips, and drained every last drop, leaving only the tip of Dai's nose for the next winning try scorer. He was then cheered and raised aloft by the rest of the highly animated team. Balancing high on their shoulders, he proudly lifted the shield and presented it to the excited audience. There was more singing and more cheers, before he was eventually put back down, to make his speech.
He glanced over at Lizzie, who was sitting behind a vast array of bottles, glasses and over-flowing ashtrays.
"Lizzie, I dedicate this win to you, the love of my life!" He staggered backwards, but just managed to grab hold of the bar rail to steady himself." You must have another drink to celebrate!" The crowd then cheered their support, but Lizzie wasn't having any of it.
"If this is how you behave every time you win a match, then you can keep your damned rugby!"
Ken laughed, "Shall I get you some wine?"
"I'll have Chablis, not that vile muck they serve in here."
The chant of Chablis! Chablis! Chablis! went up from the crowd as Ken attempted to order Lizzie's drink.
"They don't have it here, Lizzie." He called back in a slurred voice, "It's only a student's bar. What about some beer instead?"
She cringed with embarrassment, and felt her face redden.
"No, I don't want beer! I'll have a Babycham!"
Again the cheer went up, and within moments, a dozen bottles of Babycham appeared on the table.
"They're from the team!" Beamed Ken, proudly.
"Sit down, before you fall down!" She ordered, pointing to an empty chair.
Ken, managed all of two steps, before collapsing into a drunken heap on the floor.
"You lot got him into this state, so you can take care of him!" Shouted Lizzie to the team, as she scooped up the Babycham's and headed towards the door. "I'm going back to Lloyd-Evans to see Sally," she said to the other girls. "I expect she's hard at it, cramming for her exams."
She left the clubhouse, with the chant of 'Falcondale' ringing in her ears. She was desperate to tell Sally, to go and see William, and make things up. She hated seeing her friend miserable, and wanted her back, the way she was.
It was the rumbling of William's stomach that woke Sally up. They both must have drifted off to sleep, as some of the candles had gone out, and the temperature of the water had dropped somewhat.
"I think your tummy's trying to tell you something!"
He stirred, and changed his position slightly, before continuing to cuddle her.
"Yes, you're right, I'm famished, aren't you?"
"Crumpets?"
"No, sorry, run out of those. What about getting done up and going to the Falconbury Hotel?"
"No, certainly not after what Frank did to Pauline there," she replied sternly.
"There's some fresh eggs in the fridge, we could do scrambled eggs on toast with lots of Worcester sauce, yummy!" Suggested William eagerly.
"It'll be me cooking it, wont it?" Sally said, before adding; "What about Pedro's, they're having a 'Paella night', with free wine?"
"Have you ever been to a Pedro's Paella night?"
Sally shook her head.
"It can't be that bad?"
"We'd be lucky to get a table, they'll be lining up outside."
"Fish and chips?" She mentioned, "Maybe not, on second thoughts, I've had enough of fish for one day."
"Leave it to me, I'll give Pedro's a call."
Sally applied her pink lipstick, black eyeliner and mascara, before attending to her hair. She checked herself in the mirror, before deciding to wear it up in a beehive, for a change. The effect on William was immediate. He gazed at her in total awe, as she made her way downstairs, trying not to trip in her high-heels.
"I can't take you anywhere dressed like that, Sally!"
"Oh, William, I knew this sweater was too tight. Do I look stupid?"
"I think you'll get quite a bit of attention. You're going to make the men drool!"
"Well, as long as I make you drool!" She smiled.
"I am already!" He smirked, passing her a glass of wine. "I've actually managed to book us a table at Pedro's. I didn't think we'd stand a chance, but he said the place was nearly empty."
Sally looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"That's odd, I wonder why that is. Perhaps students don't like paella?"
"Not sure really, he said most of them were over at the clubhouse."
"Must be some sort of function," she replied, sipping her drink. "Just think, we can have Pedro's all to ourselves!"
He nodded and turned towards her, "Sally, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
"What might that be, Mr. Peddlescoombe?"
He hesitated for a moment, before looking into her eyes.
"Will you come back and live here? It's been so lonely w
ithout you."
She moved a stray lock of hair away from her face, before glancing down to his lips.
"I'm here, aren't I?" She whispered, before adding; "There's something I want to ask you as well, William."
He looked intrigued. "What might that be, Miss Carlington?"
"Will you light the candles again tonight, they were so lovely?"
"Yes, of course. I'll bring them down to the front room when we get back."
"I wasn't exactly thinking of the front room," she smiled, craning her neck to kiss him.
They emerged a couple of minutes later and walked, arm-arm into town, with William wearing nearly as much lipstick as Sally.
COMPENDIUM OF THE SOUL
BOOK TWO
COMPENDIUM OF THE HEART TRILOGY
11. PAULINE AND FRANK
Pauline had been right about her pregnancy. She gave birth to a baby girl on 15th August, 1963, and named the child, Tina Frances. However, the baby had been born several weeks premature, and was not expected to survive. Pauline was distraught, and looked on helplessly as her daughter was placed in an incubator, with her tiny life in the balance.
Whether it was Pauline's love for a life born out of rape, or the child's own determined will to live, or a combination of both, nothing short of a miracle happened. Little Tina Frances survived.
She had fought valiantly against all the odds, and had clung on desperately to a life, so fragile, so delicate and so weighted against her, that very few had given her even the slightest chance of pulling through. Pauline felt it was divine intervention, that Frank, baby Tina and herself were meant to be.
Pauline had also kept her promise to wait for Frank. He was finally released from prison, three years later, after serving time for the robbery of the sub post office at Falcondale.
At first, Frank had wanted nothing to do with Pauline, and refused to acknowledge the lengthy letters she would send him when he was in prison. It was only after she had got up the courage to actually visit him in person, that he came around to her way of thinking, or so she thought.
Irene Gant, Frank's mother had turned out to be an unexpected, and much-needed ally to Pauline's cause. Although Frank's father, Hugh, still wanted nothing to do with him, Irene's stance had softened somewhat following the birth of Tina. She began to make regular trips from Bristol to West London, to see her new granddaughter, and would ensure Pauline had enough money to keep herself and the baby provided for. It wasn't as if Pauline's own parents weren't there to help out. They did all they could, not necessarily in monetary terms, but in kind. They would always look after the baby when Pauline went to her job in a West end night club, and would bring over bits of old furniture and household items, to the modest, ground floor flat Pauline was renting just off the Fulham Palace Road in Hammersmith.
Irene, was a link to another world, another way of life. She represented everything Pauline strived for, money, the nice home, fancy cars, and a lifestyle way beyond her means. But more importantly, she was Frank's mother, and Pauline could use this to her advantage.
Irene, had put her marriage in jeopardy, defying her husband, with her visits to see Pauline. However, unbeknown to her husband, Irene was also in contact with Frank. If anyone could get through to the reasoning side of her son, it was Irene. She had constantly begged Hugh to relent and not to be so harsh with Frank, he was a bad apple, there was no denying that, but Irene liked to believe that everybody had a good side to them. Even when she pleaded with her husband, reinforcing the fact that they now had a grand child, Hugh remained resolute.
"I'll not have bastards in my family, nor will I have drug-peddling robbers and rapists under my roof. I'll hear no more of it, do you understand, Irene!"
Irene grew to despise her husband for his overbearing, intolerant attitude, and found her cloak and dagger actions now fully justifiable under the circumstances.
It was only a few weeks prior to Frank's release that his father, suddenly took an active interest in his son's welfare. He instructed his solicitors to make it known to Frank that an undisclosed sum of money had been made available to him. This however, was no more than a bribe to keep Frank and his indiscretions as far away from the Gant family home as possible. The money was to be paid three quarterly, and came with certain conditions, the main ones being; Frank must not set foot in Bristol. He must not try to contact members of his family. He must marry Pauline Chater. He must bring up the child to the best of his ability and provide for her.
Frank had seethed with resentment when he heard about the conditions, and at first, refused to have anything to do with his father's bizarre scheme. It was only when Irene had managed to talk to him and explain in no uncertain terms that he literally had nothing, and nowhere to go, that he finally accepted the proposal. Irene had also pleaded Pauline's case admirably. She put it to Frank, that at least now, he would have a home to come out to, a ready-made family, and an income, provided he stick to the terms of the agreement.
"Can't that gutless swine come here and tell me himself!" Shouted Frank, angrily.
"Please, you mustn't speak of your father like that. It's a very good offer." Replied Irene, disheartened.
"He just wants me out of the way. I'm an embarrassment to him. Haven't I suffered enough?"
Frank reluctantly read through the contract, and put his signature to the document. But, he couldn't see anything in the small print that said he had to actually like his new family. He decided to go along with it for the moment, since he had no other options available to him, at the present time
Pauline worked her fingers to the bone, what with working all available hours at the club, and having to juggle looking after Tina, with painting and decorating the flat. She was pleased, however with the end result and now, all it needed was Frank, to be the last part of the jigsaw. She had put up a calendar, and excitedly marked off the days until his release. She even taught Tina how to say his name. Pauline was certain that Frank would love his daughter, their new home, and most importantly, her. Pauline had never got the figure back, she had dieted so hard to achieve, before the birth of Tina. Although, determined not to let her weight creep back up to her pre-university days, she was happy to remain a curvy, size twelve. Pauline was proud of her full, shapely bust and enjoyed likening herself to the actress, Jane Russell. She was also one of the most popular hostesses at the club, with her innocent looks and long, raven hair.
It had been Irene, who persuaded Frank to agree to a visit from Pauline and Tina, very near to the end of his sentence. She had wisely thought that letting him see Pauline with his daughter, would get him used to the idea of becoming a family man, rather than have him frightened off at an early stage. All Irene wanted was for her son to become a better person, and if he found himself at the opposite end of the table, with family responsibilities, it might just provide the impetus he needed to get his life into perspective.
Frank's transformation into family life was no easy thing. He married Pauline under protest, refusing to have any guests present, just the bare minimum. There was no reception, and certainly no honeymoon. Pauline was understandably devastated by Frank's actions and found herself in tears on her wedding day. Even Irene had to question if this was indeed, the right course of action.
"Listen Pauline, I've supported you trying to make a life for yourself and Tina with my son, but having watched the debacle of your wedding, I can only have sympathy for you. I would certainly back you up, if you left him immediately."
Pauline, holding Tina in one arm, and trying to wipe her tears away with the other, thanked Irene.
"It was meant to be the happiest day of my life, but I'll survive, I always do. I'll see things through with Frank, It certainly can't get any worse."
The preceding days were no better. Frank had little time for Tina, and despite Pauline cooking for him, and tending to all his needs, he remained ungrateful and simply viewed her as little more than a servant. He rarely spoke, except to swear if she'd done something to up
set him, which turned out to be all too often.
"Frank, I've cooked you a pie, it's one of your favourites." Called out Pauline, as she proudly placed Frank's dinner on the table.
He came out of the shower five minutes later in a red polo shirt and jeans. He had his fair hair cropped these days, and looked trim and muscular from working out during his time inside. The faded scar on the left side of his face, however still gave him a menacing and somewhat imposing appearance. He didn't even bother to sit at the table, he just picked up the plate of food, and hurled at the wall.
"It's bad enough having to live here in this shit hole with you - but I'll not eat shit as well." He put his jacket on and stormed out, leaving Pauline beside herself, as she looked up at the ruined wall, which she had only recently finished wallpapering.
Pauline, eventually worked out her own routine with Frank. She prepared his meals early and kept them warm in the oven, never knowing when he would appear. He would usually be out drinking all hours with so-called friends, but, he was still a meticulously, smart and fussy dresser, so as long as his shirts were ironed to perfection, and she gave him space, Pauline found it possible to survive in, what was an intimidating and hostile environment. Frank was also frequently violent when drunk, so Pauline learnt to keep quiet, keep out of the way, and simply act as the dutiful wife. He would only ever have sex with her when he was drunk, and these were the times Pauline feared the most. The beatings she took during the early days, could be considered mild, compared to what they'd be like in the future. Quite often, especially after sex, she would go and sleep in with Tina. She found cuddling her little daughter a welcome relief from the cold brutality of Frank's regime.
But things did begin to change a few months later. At a loss for something to do, Frank began to act as an unofficial driver to some of the more wealthy clientele who would frequent Lake's, the club, where Pauline worked part-time. It was an exclusive gentleman's club in Curzon Street, Mayfair. It could be described as both shabby and smart at the same time, and had an old-fashioned aura about it. The shabbiness came from the fact, that the old Georgian building was in great need of refurbishment. It always amused Pauline to see customers arriving at weekends, dressed in evening wear, and having their meal in a dining room covered in cracks, and damp, peeling wall paper. But the club was popular with it's own distinctive atmosphere, and Pauline found working there very fulfilling. She felt she was quite lucky to get the job, since several applicants were called for interview, but there was something about Pauline's innocence that swayed the job in her favour. The owner's wife had seen the candidates personally, and for Pauline it felt as if she had applied for a modelling job, rather than as a club hostess.