It was another lovely day. Summer had truly arrived. June hoped the weather would stay good for several weeks and not just a few meagre days. As she turned into the park, June’s heart gladdened. There was Arnold and Milly! Ralph barked in recognition. He strained at the lead, carting June across the short distance.
‘Hello boy!’ Arnold stooped down to pat Ralph. The terrier stretched his front paws up Arnold’s leg, tail wagging so quickly it was a blur.
‘No walking stick!’ June exclaimed.
‘Nope. I woke up this morning and was delighted to find the ankle was as good as new.’
‘So you’ll be able to go on your weekend to the Lakes after all,’ June smiled.
‘Certainly will. Bridget is pleased. Mind you, if push had come to shove, she had Malcolm lined up to take my place.’
June looked shocked. Did Bridget and Arnold have some sort of open relationship?
‘Malcolm is another rambler, but he drives Bridget bonkers. Always insists on being leader and then getting us all lost.’
‘Oh! So, so it’s a group thing you’re going on.’
‘Absolutely. Ten of us. All good friends.’
‘So you and Bridget–’ June tailed off.
‘Are walking friends.’ Arnold caught June’s look and his eyes widened. ‘Oh! You thought we were an item?’
June blushed. ‘Well, yes I did rather.’
‘Oh no. Not at all. Bridget isn’t interested in the likes of me. Or anybody else who wears trousers, if you get my drift.’ Now it was June’s eyes that widened. Arnold laughed. ‘Don’t look so shocked June. It’s not just the youngsters of today who have the monopoly on gay love. Oldies have feelings too – no matter whether they’re gay or straight. As your friend knows only too well.’
‘My friend?’
‘Yes,’ Arnold put his head on one side, as if considering. ‘The friend who is worried about going to Brighton and is attending your imminent dinner party.’
‘Ah!’ June nodded. Harry. ‘Yes. Of course. The dinner party is this evening. I’d better hurry up with walking Ralph. There’s still a few things to do.’
‘Do you mind if Milly and I walk with you?’
‘That would be lovely,’ June smiled. June liked Arnold. She liked his twinkling eyes. And his calm voice. He held out an elbow for June. They linked arms. What a gentleman.
‘So. Everybody has plans for summer apart from you June.’
June tried not to look shifty. ‘So it would seem Arnold.’
‘Well what about coming on the rambling weekend with us all? We stay at a marvellous hostel. The lads are in one dorm, the lasses in another. Totally dog friendly too. Plenty of room for you and Ralph. Milly’s going.’
‘Gosh. Well now.’ June tried to think of a reason to decline the invitation. And then she realised that she didn’t want to find an excuse. She wanted to go. Sharing a dorm with women her own age presented no difficulties. Ralph could even sleep on her bed! It wasn’t as if she and Arnold were a couple. So she had nothing to feel guilty about. June took a deep breath, ‘I think that’s a grand idea Arnold!’
Chapter Twenty Eight
Dear Barry, forgive me the delay in replying to you. I’ve had problems to deal with.
Steph paused. She was desperate to offload her marital problems. But who could she confide in? She couldn’t tell Shirley. Much as she loved Shirley, Tesco’s entire staff would end up knowing. Shirley couldn’t keep secrets. Nor could Steph tell June. Dear, sweet, sensitive June would be as devastated as Steph. And she certainly couldn’t tell Tom. He’d written his parents off as impotent dinosaurs long ago. To find out his father not only still had a sexual appetite, but a taste for buxom mistresses would be too embarrassing for words. Apart from anything else, Steph didn’t want Tom thinking badly of Si. For the same reason, she couldn’t tell any of her family either. The last thing Steph wanted was her father making an appearance. He’d clobber Si with his walking stick. And if she confided in her mother-in-law, it would probably be Steph who’d get clobbered. For make no mistake, her mother-in-law would somehow blame Steph for this whole sorry mess. Her son had been Saint Simon from the moment he’d been delivered at Queen Mary’s Hospital. No. Despite her problems, she would have to keep them to herself.
Steph’s fingers rested on the laptop keys. The urge to unburden wouldn’t go away. I have marital problems Barry. Ooh, what a relief to type that. I found Si with another woman. And I confronted her! Steph half-keeled over the laptop. She felt dizzy expressing the pent-up emotion. It felt so good. Such a release. But there was so much more to divest! And then Steph had a brainwave. She would carry on outpouring but wouldn’t actually send the message. Once she’d vented her spleen, she would hit the delete button. Then she would re-write a polite message to Barry instead. Suggest coffee and a chat about the good old days. Brilliant idea.
Si’s mistress is called Dawn. Bitch! She looks like a blow-up doll. I’d like to prick her. Instead my husband is doing that. Bastard! Words cannot describe how I feel Barry. Angry. Devastated. My heart is a wasteland of grief. I want revenge. Si should feel my pain. Oh Barry...I wish you could comfort me! I’d fall into your arms! I want to listen to sweet words comforting my despairing heart.
Steph paused. She seemed to have gone all Mills & Boon. She was meant to be off-loading vitriol! Having mentioned the revenge word, she began to fantasise. Who better to participate in her act of retribution? Barry Hastings of course. Not that it was likely. Despite all the dreadfulness of the situation, Steph was a one-man woman. Her anger might be clamouring for vengeance, but her heart would never permit it. Even though she’d literally stared her husband’s adultery in the face, Steph still didn’t think she could be disloyal to him. But right now she could pretend couldn’t she? It wasn’t hurting anybody. And in a small way it eased her troubled heart. It was as if thinking of Barry Hastings in a lusty way put her on a level pegging with Si’s adultery. Well. Almost.
You are gorgeous Barry. I want you to make love to me. In fact, just thinking about you is making me all tingly. Steph was surprised that her brain could even summon up tingles when her heart was in pieces. Oh to have you cradle me to your chest. Steph wondered what Barry’s chest was like. Do you have a hairy chest Barry? She’d certainly seen plenty of Dawn’s chest. It was like something out of a Men’s Magazine. No wonder Si hadn’t been able to resist. The woman surely had implants. It wasn’t natural to have appendages the size of footballs that defied gravity. Steph glanced down at her own chest. Prior to Tom it had been a perky 34C. These days it was still a 34C but had relocated around her naval. Steph gnashed her teeth. Stuff Dawn’s chest! She wanted to think about Barry’s chest for a moment. In fact, why stop at the chest?
I’d like to explore every part of your body Barry. Inch by inch. Oh my cyber lover! Come to me! Steph stopped typing. It was no good going off on tangents. She should stick to telling Barry all about how she’d really like to poke Dawn’s eyes out. Instead she was telling Barry what she’d like to do to him. Oh well. It wasn’t like she was ever going to send this message.
Her concentration was interrupted by the sound of a key in the front door. Steph froze. Was that Si? She hadn’t counted on him coming home. She’d assumed her errant husband would avoid her. Go straight to work. And then return to the boudoir of bosoms. Steph felt the beginnings of a sob ricochet up her windpipe. It was so enormous it impaired her breathing. Steph clutched the edge of the table with both hands. Footsteps were coming slowly down the hall. Steph could feel her face getting hot. She needed air. The sob was stuck in her throat now. The ability to inhale evaded her. Si appeared in the kitchen doorway. He looked dreadful. He had a black eye. The bruising contrasted horribly with his pale complexion. A part of Steph’s brain – the detached unfeeling part – wondered what they must look like. Si standing there. Silent and chalk white. Steph sitting. Gulping and purple. She was really starting to struggle now. Was she going to die? How ironic. It wasn’t a broken hear
t killing her. It was lack of oxygen.
‘Steph?’ Si frowned. ‘Are you all right?’
Steph stared at Si, eyes wide with panic. Fancy asking such a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t all right. Firstly she was inconsolable from his betrayal. Secondly she was dying. And it was all his fault. The bastard. If she’d had lungs to yell with she’d have cursed him from one end of Jessamine Terrace to the other.
Si took a hesitant step forward. ‘Speak to me Steph. Please.’
Steph could hear white noise in her head now. This was it. Good-bye world. Hello Jesus. Another sound mingled with the white noise. Steph’s thinking became fuzzy. It was a scream. A horrible bellowing noise. And it was coming from Si. And then there was the sound of feet pounding frantically down the stairs. Tom appeared in the kitchen doorway. And then suddenly Steph couldn’t hear anything at all. Sound had gone. Her vision began to fill with snow. In slow motion, Si and Tom reached towards her. Their mouths were moving soundlessly. Steph’s body began to sag. Her hand inadvertently shot out. Fingers splayed across the laptop’s touchpad. The cursor ricocheted over the screen. As the keyboard zoomed toward her, Steph’s head crashed down hitting a series of buttons – one of which she’d never intended to press. And the fantasy message to a cyber lover winged its way off into cyber space.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Si rushed forward as Steph nose-dived onto the kitchen table. There was a nasty cracking noise. For one awful moment Si thought Steph had fractured her skull. Tom and Si exchanged horrified glances.
‘It’s okay Dad,’ Tom assured, ‘it was just the noise of Mum’s head hitting the keyboard. Blimey,’ Tom stared at Si’s eye. ‘What happened to you?’
‘Accident at work,’ Si said tersely. He grabbed Steph under the arms. Laying her down on the floor, Si put his wife in the recovery position. She was breathing steadily now, her complexion pink again. Suddenly Si felt shaky. His wife must have been in one hell of a state to pass out. And it was his fault.
‘Should I call an ambulance?’ asked Tom.
‘Hang on. Your mum’s coming round. Steph? Can you hear me?’
‘I can hear you,’ she whispered. ‘Get your hands off me.’
Tom suddenly looked alert to the situation. ‘Have you two had some sort of domestic?’
‘No,’ said Si through gritted teeth.
Steph pushed herself upright. She massaged her temples. ‘Tom, I want to talk to your Dad. Alone.’
‘Sure.’ Tom looked from one parent to the other. ‘I’ll be upstairs.’
‘Shut the door on your way out,’ said Steph. She hauled herself to her feet.
‘Let me help you,’ Si put an arm around her waist.
Steph batted Si’s hands away. ‘I told you to get your hands off me,’ she snarled. Reaching for a kitchen chair, Steph sat down heavily. ‘I don’t want you near me. Understand?’
Si stopped in his tracks. ‘You haven’t even given me a chance to explain.’
Steph banged a fist down on the kitchen table. ‘That’s because there is nothing to explain!’
‘Nothing happened between Dawn and me!’ Si protested. ‘Steph, look at me.’ Si pulled out a kitchen chair and risked sitting opposite his wife. He’d grab the laptop if necessary and use it as a shield to ward off any further blows from her. ‘It was late. I accidentally fell asleep.’
‘And you just happened to accidentally fall asleep in your boxers,’ Steph banged the table with her fist again, ‘next,’ BANG! ‘to,’ BANG! ‘a naked woman!’ BANG! BANG!
‘I was dead to the world. Dawn somehow undressed me and put me to bed.’
‘How touching.’
‘I have no memory of it.’
‘Good heavens – amnesia!’ Steph gave a strangled laugh. ‘Whatever next?’
‘Next, I was woken up by you ringing the doorbell. I was horrified that I’d fallen asleep round there. And the reason I had no clothes on was because I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.’
‘Oh yes,’ Steph pretended to contemplate, ‘dressed in just your boxers and sporting a peak bigger than Mount Everest.’
‘Steph, all men wake up like that.’
‘That doesn’t explain why Mrs Big Tits was stripped and ready for action.’
Si held out his hands helplessly. Truth was the only option. ‘She was probably hoping to score. But it didn’t happen. I swear.’
Steph’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Why didn’t you come home after dropping her back?’
Yes, why hadn’t he? God how he regretted it! ‘Because Dawn couldn’t get up the stairs and wanted me to fetch stuff. I was at her beck and call – finding painkillers and sorting out a bed for her downstairs. She was on crutches.’
‘She wasn’t on crutches when I saw her,’ Steph snapped. ‘In fact, she wasn’t even limping.’
‘Well in hindsight I would hazard a guess that the whole thing was a ploy to seduce me.’ Steph gave her husband an incredulous look. Si didn’t appreciate it. Just because Steph wasn’t sexually interested in him these days, did she have to so readily toss him on the scrap heap? Much as he disliked Dawn, you had to admit she was damn fit. There weren’t many men who would have said no. Si began to feel annoyed. And who was Steph to take the moral high ground! Wasn’t she forgetting something? ‘You’re a fine one to lecture me.’
Steph’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘What happened to me wasn’t premeditated. I was coerced. But I can’t say the same for you.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Barry Hastings.’ Si watched Steph jerk. Ah! That had caused a reaction hadn’t it! ‘He’s a Facebook friend. Nothing more.’
‘I don’t think so Steph. You’ve been exchanging very flirty chit-chat.’ Si put up a hand to halt his wife’s protests. ‘Please don’t deny it. I saw.’
‘I can explain.’ Steph found herself parroting Si’s earlier words.
‘What was it you wrote? Ah yes,’ Si posted quotation marks in the air. ‘“You were the boy everybody was in love with at school – myself included.” Touching. And apparently he’s waiting with bated breath to meet you.’ Now it was Si’s turn to bang his fist on the table. ‘How dare you Steph!’
‘I can explain,’ Steph repeated.
‘I’m all ears.’
‘When you were arrested for breaking into June’s house, I rushed off to the police station leaving my laptop behind in the hair salon. The stylist, Dominic, doctored my original message. He was hoping Barry might be gay and wanted to meet him through me.’
Si paused while his brain digested this. It made sense actually. He nodded and exhaled slowly. Steph was looking at him steadily over the kitchen table. Her previous anger had vanished. She looked, if anything, contrite. Si’s heart began to beat a little quicker. Was Steph re-evaluating everything he’d told her? Slowly she stretched one hand over to his.
‘Si. Regarding Dawn. Many women might not believe you. But I do. I could see she’d set her cap at you in the van. Despite her supposedly being in agony, you put me first. You came home to tell me in person what had happened. If there had been any intention on your part with this woman, I don’t think you’d have brought her back to Jessamine Terrace for me to see her. So, yes. I believe you.’
Si grabbed both of Steph’s hands. ‘Good. And I believe you’re not interested in Barry Hastings.’
Si’s mobile began to ring. Terry’s name flashed in the caller display. Si smiled at Steph and gave her hands a squeeze before releasing them.
‘Hello Terry.’
‘Where the heck are you mate? I need some plumbing done.’
‘I’m on my way.’ Si hung up. Leaning across the table, he kissed Steph gently on her bruised forehead. ‘I’d better scoot. See you later for June’s dinner party.’
Si bounded off. He was very relieved his marriage was back on track. Again. He didn’t see Steph turn her attention back to the laptop. Or catch her horrified expression.
; Chapter Thirty
June walked down Jessamine Terrace feeling as if she was floating on air. She didn’t know why she felt so happy, but she did. She’d exchanged telephone numbers with Arnold before saying good-bye at the park. He had promised to call her with the finer details of the impending weekend in the Lakes. June already had two new friends in both Bridget and Arnold. Soon she would have a few more! Now this was a weekend she was looking forward to. Great scenery. Great company. And how nice to know Arnold and Bridget weren’t paired off. Not that it bothered her. Of course not. She had Harry! June felt her buoyancy take a bit of a dip at the thought of Harry. How strange. Still, she couldn’t wait to see his detached house. Harry had so far evaded inviting June over. Every time the subject had come up Harry had made noises about Ralph shedding black hair on his cream carpets. Quite what would happen if June married Harry she didn’t know. Buy black carpets?
June put her key in the front door. Mmmmm. The aroma of chilli chicken casserole was promising. She went through to the kitchen. She peeked inside the oven before adjusting the temperature. June then spent an hour laying the table, messing about with napkins and polishing crystal wine glasses. Satisfied that everything looked perfect, she took herself off to the bathroom for a long bubble bath.
Ninety minutes later, June was transformed. She tripped down the stairs in a floaty cocktail dress wearing the sort of heels many pensioners would consider outrageous. She’d had the dress for thirty plus years but it still fit like a glove. It was a little risqué over the cleavage. As she’d never had children, her bosoms remained at the top of her ribcage rather than the bottom. And June was proud of that. She was quite sure the dress would get Harry in a total palaver. But she wasn’t too worried because Steph and Si would be present. She needed to keep Harry keen, but also at arm’s length. Certainly until she’d made up her mind exactly what to do about this Brighton trip. The doorbell rang interrupting June’s thoughts. She went to answer the door, high heels click-clacking on the floor.
Flings and Arrows Page 11