‘Are you seeing him today?’
‘I’m not sure . . .’ Liz said, glancing towards her bedroom door. ‘I was going to go up, but my mammy says she doesn’t think I should be out and about for the next week.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I suppose she’s right; I’m still bleeding fairly heavy.’
‘He’ll probably come down later,’ Heather said. ‘He’s maybe giving you time to get back on your feet . . . until you can go out to the pictures or the dancing together.’
‘I just wish we could get a bit of time on our own,’ Liz complained. ‘If he comes down here, there’s always my mother and father around, and it’s the same if I go up to his house. The only way around it is to get married. That’s the only way couples get to spend any time on their own.’
Heather nodded as though she agreed, thinking that she would by far prefer to be on her own from now on. Look where Liz had landed herself because of her boyfriend, and now she and Kirsty weren’t talking all over boyfriends again. It just wasn’t worth it.
Later, as she walked back to her own house, Heather mused over the situation again, unable to understand how a girl could get into such a state over a lad. She’d met a few nice boys over the years, but none who had made her feel she’d want to get married or even engaged to them. Gerry was the closest she’d ever come to anything like that.
None of the feelings she’d ever had came close to what she had imagined real love was like. She’d never felt all excited and romantic about them. A good night’s dancing and a good laugh was the most she’d ever had with any of the boys. And she certainly had never felt like going to bed with any of them.
Not that she ever would – even if real love suddenly struck her down. The thought of even seeing a man naked made her shudder, and she certainly couldn’t imagine letting any man see her without clothes.
Yes, Heather Grace decided, she would stay quite happily on her own. Friends for her nights out and home with her mother and father for the rest of the time would suit her very well, for the foreseeable future.
After all she had seen and experienced recently, she didn’t need or want any man.
Chapter 59
It was just as well she and Heather weren’t really talking, Kirsty reasoned to herself. It meant that she didn’t have to explain herself or tell a white lie as she had done to her parents.
Sophie and Fintan had gone off to Wishaw in Pat’s car twenty minutes ago, so Kirsty waited until they were safely out of the way and then she got herself ready to catch the quarter past four bus over to Carfin.
She didn’t have to waste time deciding what to wear, as she had spent the last hour or so thinking about it. Larry usually saw her dressed for rehearsals in casual clothes or in really glamorous dresses for the stage. For this first date together, Kirsty wanted to wear something that would make her look really nice – not anything that would make her look as if she was trying too hard, or not hard enough.
She settled on a fine black woollen sweater that had a collar and three pearl buttons, and a pair of fitted black slacks, which slipped nicely into her black suede ankle books with the grey fur trim. A pair of pearl earrings picked up the buttons on her sweater and her charm bracelet finished the outfit off perfectly.
As she examined herself in the mirror, turning this way and that to check herself from every angle, Kirsty decided with some satisfaction that she had achieved exactly the look she had wanted. It was the sort of outfit that she often saw film stars wearing in Photoplay or one of the other magazines, when they were photographed out shopping or waving to their fans. They usually wore mink coats draped over their shoulders, but Kirsty decided that her three-quarter-length camel coat and black scarf would look just fine. She left her blonde hair loose and long, the way that Larry liked it. She had brushed it thoroughly first to loosen the curls, then with the help of some setting lotion, she had coaxed it into a more fashionable, wavy style. A few dabs of Chanel No. 5 gave her that special little lift, knowing that he had chosen it especially for her.
Heather was in the sitting-room reading a book when Kirsty looked in.
‘I’ll probably be back before my mammy and daddy,’ she said, pulling on her gloves, ‘but if I’m not back, you can say I won’t be late.’
‘Fine,’ Heather said, not lifting her head from her book. Then, just as Kirsty went out into the hallway, she called in a softer voice. ‘Be careful about coming back in the dark . . . they still haven’t caught whoever murdered all those people.’
Kirsty stopped in her tracks. She had forgotten about the murder business. ‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she called back to her sister. ‘I’ll make sure I keep to the streets that are all lit up.’
As soon as she stepped off the red double-decker bus, Kirsty could see Larry’s car waiting for her just up from the bus stop. She walked smartly towards the car, looking neither right nor left at the bus she had left behind or the other passengers who were still getting off, as she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself.
The door was partly open waiting for her, and the engine of the car was running so they could move off quickly.
‘This is just how I imagined it would be,’ Larry said as she slid into the cool leather of the passenger seat. He leaned over to take her face in his hands and kiss her gently on the lips. ‘Just seeing you walking along there made me feel the happiest man alive, and having you in the car beside me like this is just indescribable.’
‘Well, that makes us two very happy people,’ she said, kissing him back, ‘because I feel the very same about seeing you.’
He kissed her once again, then he put the car into gear and they pulled away, little knowing that the bus driver had watched Kirsty’s movements with great interest and had taken particular note of Larry Delaney’s expensive car.
‘Where do you want to go?’ Larry asked, as they drove along on the main road that led to Motherwell. ‘We can turn off now in any direction that you want.’
Kirsty shrugged. ‘I don’t mind . . . but there’s not going to be much open on a Sunday evening.’ She halted. ‘You live in Motherwell, don’t you?’
Larry nodded. ‘We could go to a café or we might even catch the pictures if you like.’
‘Why don’t we go to your place?’ Kirsty suggested.
There was a little silence as he got the car into top gear, then he turned his head to look at her. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘I’d really like to see where you live . . . I keep imagining it, and I bet it’s all wrong. I keep wondering if it’s big or small, tidy or untidy . . . that kind of thing.’
Larry laughed now. ‘You never cease to surprise me, Kirsty Grace. You’re so honest and open about even the smallest details, and I think that’s one of the things I first liked about you.’
‘I’ve actually not been very honest this afternoon,’ she admitted in a low voice. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. ‘I decided to say to my mother that I was going over to visit an old school friend of mine . . . it just seemed easier than explaining about us.’
Larry’s forehead creased in concern. ‘I really don’t like putting you in the position where you’re having to tell lies. It means we’re getting off on the wrong foot with your parents.’
‘It’s no big deal,’ Kirsty said, wishing she hadn’t said anything now. The last few days seemed to have been fraught with misunderstandings and disagreements with everybody, and she didn’t want that interfering with her and Larry.
‘Was there anything said after I left you yesterday? Were there any problems with your mother and father?’ he asked now.
‘No . . . not at all,’ Kirsty said. ‘They thought you were great, and they were delighted with all the things you’d said about my singing. I think it was just the worry about me being stranded up in the Clyde Valley with the snow, and obviously with the dramatic things that have been in the news recently.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘It’s unbelievable really, because no
thing ever happens around this area, then suddenly we have a mass-murderer on our hands.’
‘Well, it’s understandable that they should be worried,’ Larry commented. ‘I’ll be worrying now every time I think of you out on your own.’
‘I’ll be perfectly fine,’ she told him. She didn’t want to spoil the precious time they had together now going over her father’s comments about them staying in the hotel, or mulling over Heather’s funny attitude to their romance. Anyway, she thought, there wasn’t anything that serious to tell him, and hopefully it would all sort itself out in good time.
The house that Kirsty had imagined Larry living in wasn’t anything like the house he actually owned. In fact, it wasn’t a house at all. It was an upstairs mansion flat – or spacious apartment if you were using the language of the estate agents in the newspaper adverts. They had driven down through the town centre of Motherwell, past the Town Hall – where Kirsty and Heather and their friends often went dancing – down the long hill that led towards Hamilton.
They passed a mixture of old two-storey houses in grey and red sandstone and similar ones painted in white, then they passed rows of smaller one-storey houses in red sandstone. About halfway down the hill, Larry turned the car off towards the right and they drove along a tree-lined avenue until they came to a stop in front of a tall, well-kept red-stone building that was divided into a number of apartments.
‘This is it,’ Larry said, turning the engine off. ‘This is where I hide away when I’m not working.’
Kirsty stepped out of the car, closed the door and stood staring up at the very smart building for a few moments. It had something of the appearance of the hotel up in Lanark with similar bay windows and perfectly maintained stonework, and there was a uniformity to the heavy curtains and pelmets, as though one design had been used throughout.
‘It looks really lovely from the outside,’ Kirsty finally said, as she walked around the car towards him, her blonde waves bobbing on her shoulders. She was relaxed and smiling, and in a funny way she felt proud on his behalf that he owned a flat in this very smart place. And she knew it was all because Larry had told her all about his background, and that he had worked so hard to achieve it.
‘Good,’ he said, smiling brightly at her. ‘I hope you like the inside as much.’
Larry Delaney’s flat had everything that a modern home could need or want: television, fridge, fancy radiogram, vacuum cleaner – all the things that Kirsty had read about in magazines, and the sort of things that she had seen in her Auntie Claire’s house in Glasgow. The sorts of things that she had never imagined herself owning in a million years. And yet here she was now, going out with a successful businessman who owned all these things.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Kirsty breathed, looking around the big, airy sitting-room with the bay window that looked out onto the street. The room was furnished fairly simply, with a dark three-piece suite and a long coffee-table in the centre, and a television, radiogram and a dark wooden table with four chairs pushed against one of the walls. Wine and cream Regency-striped curtains with matching tie-backs and a pelmet decorated the windows. A black-and-white ink sketch was framed above the fireplace, and on close inspection Kirsty recognised it as O’Connell Street in Dublin.
As she walked around the room, Kirsty felt there was something missing and after a few minutes she realised what it was. It needed some sort of colour – the sort of colour that a woman would introduce in the way of flowers and cushions and maybe a few colourful pictures. The sort of colour that Kirsty knew she could bring to this lovely apartment. The colour she knew she could bring to Larry Delaney’s whole life.
Kirsty took off her coat and outdoor things and then Larry gave her a guided tour of the very modern kitchen and the bathroom, which even had a shower. Then he led her upstairs to the two large bedrooms that were on the floor above.
‘I’m not always as tidy as this,’ he confessed as they stood at the door of his spacious bedroom, which was the exact shape as the sitting-room downstairs and with the same tall bay window and wine striped curtains. From first glance Kirsty thought it was so obviously a man’s room, with the heavy Victorian wardrobe and chest of drawers with a man’s ivory brush and shaving set, and a large carved dark wooden chair with a similar striped fabric to the curtains. The high, wide, wooden bed with pale blue sheets and pillow-cases and a navy top cover took up most of the main wall. ‘I have an older woman who comes in to tidy up for me on a Friday,’ Larry explained, ‘and with us being away until yesterday afternoon, I haven’t had a chance to untidy it all yet.’
‘I think you keep this very well,’ Kirsty told him, looking around the high-ceilinged room. ‘I think you keep it all very well.’
Then there was a silence as they stood opposite each other on the threshold of Larry’s bedroom. Kirsty looked up at him; their eyes met and she saw the same look in his eyes as she had seen in the hotel the night he came to her room.
He reached for her now and drew her into his arms, and she could feel the warmth of his heart beating through the fine wool of his sweater. Then he kissed her long and deeply, and a hot wave of desire shot through her, leaving her weak and breathless.
She reached up to her full height and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, feeling his lips hard on hers and then his kisses became slower and deeper as his tongue gently probed her mouth.
Kirsty Grace had been held tightly and kissed many times before now by young boys, but it had never ever felt the way that it felt with this handsome older man. And her body had never responded in the way it was responding to him now. The feelings she had were new and wonderful and exciting – but there was also a little edge to all the feelings that was frightening.
Then, Larry’s kisses slowed down until he eventually stopped, then he took her hand and led her across the room to the big high bed. He didn’t lift her this time as he had done a few days ago in the hotel – and he didn’t need to. There was no question that Kirsty Grace was willing. They lay down on the bed together, their arms wrapped around each other as though they were the only two people in the whole building and in the whole world.
They kissed and talked and then kissed again – and each time the kissing became more passionate until Larry had somehow moved to lie on top of her and she was suddenly startled when she felt his male hardness pressing close against her lower stomach and hips. Within moments she felt herself instinctively moving against him and the little darts of desire were now growing into an overwhelming passion she had never ever imagined. As their kisses grew deeper Kirsty found her hands were moving under Larry’s sweater as she wanted to feel and touch and breathe in so much more of him.
Eventually, through the silent encouragement from Kirsty and the heat that had now generated between them, Larry moved into a sitting position and pulled his sweater over his head. Then, as he lay back down again and Kirsty ran her hands across the fine hairs on his chest and then over his bare shoulders and back, she thought how his body looked even more attractive than she had ever imagined. He looked even more handsome now than he had in the sexy dreams she’d had about him.
Passion escalated between them until Larry’s hands gently brushed over Kirsty’s breasts and then came to seek them under her sweater, and at that point she did exactly as he had done. She sat up and pulled the sweater up and over her blonde hair, and came to lie beside him again wearing only her little white bra.
Larry’s arms came around her again and they hugged and kissed and moved against each other until at last Larry pulled himself away from her. ‘We’ve got to stop, Kirsty,’ he said in a low, reluctant voice. He moved to sit on the side of the bed, his fingers running through his thick dark hair.
‘Do you want to stop?’ she whispered, leaning over to stroke his back again.
There was a silence. ‘No, I really don’t want to stop,’ he said quietly, pulling his sweater back on.
‘I don’t want to stop either,’ she told him.
Larry turned back to kiss her lightly on the forehead. ‘I think that we’re going to have much bigger problems if we don’t.’
Chapter 60
Heather went back into work on Monday morning. The weather was milder again, all signs of snow having disappeared with the small but significant rise in temperature.
‘Make sure you keep well wrapped up,’ Sophie had said as she had seen her off at the front door earlier in the morning. ‘It’s this changeable weather that catches people out. Keep your scarf and gloves on at all times when you’re outside, and make sure you have something decent to eat at your lunch break.’
Heather had assured her mother that she’d do everything right, and went walking up to Rowanhill train station, sighing to herself as she went along. It would be a long time before she was allowed to forget the fainting episode.
Everyone was very nice to her, saying they hoped she felt much better and discreetly not mentioning the funeral, and Mr Walton told her she should take things easy around the office for the next few days. Danny and Maurice came up to her, making good-natured jokes about her fainting at the boss’s feet and then saying very kindly that she should look after herself.
Then, halfway through the morning, Sarah came up to her while she was typing out a letter. Heather had spotted her coming across the floor, and deliberately turned her head to the side as if she hadn’t seen her.
Sarah stood for a moment, hesitating, then she plunged in. ‘I’m really sorry about what happened to your old boyfriend . . . and I’m sorry about the night we went to see the show.’
‘Thanks,’ Heather said, staring straight at her typewriter. She lifted the file from her desk and proceeded to thumb her way through all the documents, pretending she was looking for something.
‘That night,’ Sarah continued in a wavery voice, obviously very embarrassed and awkward, ‘it was all a big misunderstanding.’
The Grace Girls Page 45