When they’d first made love he’d worried about his lack of experience, and after years of never being able to please Angela he’d dreaded Helen being disappointed too. But he’d found that when the woman you were making love to enjoyed it as much as yourself, and she’d proved this by screaming his name during her climax, it made him feel like a king. And after the first couple of times they’d made love he’d stopped worrying about different positions and foreplay because it had all come naturally. He thought of her body now and knew that when they were joined together, whether it was in bed, on the settee or in the shower – it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Neither of them were shy in their nakedness or touching and taking pleasure from each other’s bodies. In fact, he thought grinning; she usually took more advantage of him than the other way round. The vision of her waking him during the night and riding on him until she relieved herself was an image that would stay with him forever.
He’d decided to wait until Helen bought the apartment and then would offer half of the money so it could be their place together and not just hers. Then, he thought, and only then, would he be able to walk away from Angela and never look back. He slipped his feet out of his shoes and wriggled his feet in the grass –from now on every time Angela makes a derisory comment, he decided laughing, he would close his eyes and think of Helen in her tartan underwear.
As the dogs raced towards him he picked up a twig and tossed it for them. Watching them fight and scamper after it made him think of Christopher and how much he missed him. This was his favourite field so with his mobile he took a photograph of the dogs and sent it to him. As he walked back towards the cottage he remembered the weekend in Durham. They’d stayed overnight in the Marriott hotel because of the long drive and after Christopher had gone back to his digs he’d sat on the end of his mum’s bed and told her all about Helen and how much he loved her.
‘And do you think she feels the same way about you?’ Patricia had asked him.
He’d nodded his head confidently. ‘I don’t think, Mum. I know she does,’ he’d said and told her about the night she’d had the nightmare. ‘That was the night I knew I’d fallen in love with her.’
‘Angela will bleed you dry of every penny you’ve got. Because money is all that matters to her...’ Patricia said thoughtfully.
‘I’m going to have to account for that,’ he said nodding. ‘Helen is talking about buying an apartment when her house is sold and I’m hoping she’ll want to share it with me. I know my future lies with her now.’
She’d taken his hand and smiled. ‘This is as good a time as any to tell you. But I’ve changed my will, Richard. I’ve put half of my money into trust funds for Emily and Christopher when they are twenty-one, and the other half is in your name only,’ she’d said.
‘Ah, Mum, are you sure?’ he’d asked in amazement.
She’d pouted. ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Even if you don’t leave Angela I can’t bear the thought of her getting her greedy little paws on one penny of my money!’
He’d shaken his head at her, then cuddled her tightly. ‘Thanks, Mum. It’s a relief to have you on my side…’
Chapter Thirteen
‘He loves me!’ Helen couldn’t help repeating the words over and over again to herself after they returned from Glasgow. She walked around in a dream and started to end her texts, emails and phone calls to him with the words. They were only three small words – but she said them with pride and an intimacy that was meant for him and him alone. With the sale of the house imminent she planned to spend the weekend clearing out cupboards which were crammed full of family memories.
There was so much actual meaning in saying, I love you, she thought, as she began to empty wardrobes in the spare bedroom. The short word, love, didn’t seem big enough to encompass everything she felt and wanted to say to him. She wanted to squeeze and hug him, touch his body and have him deep inside her, listen to his quiet steady voice, make him happy, see the love shining in his eyes when he looked at her – the list, she thought, was endless. On the night she’d had the nightmare, when he’d lovingly stroked her hair, she’d wanted to whisper ‘I love you’, but she’d bitten her lip and remained silent, lacking in confidence and still unsure of his feelings for her. And that had been when she realised she’d fallen in love with him. It had been the first night they’d slept together without making love and it convinced her that their relationship wasn’t based upon sexual attraction alone. He’d listened to her, held her tightly all night and comforted her with love and reassurance –something Rob had never done.
She filled black bags of old clothes and ornaments for the charity shop, and chastised herself for comparing the two men, because they were poles apart. But by doing this, she decided, it helped to confirm the difference in her feelings and she knew that what she felt now for Richard was true love.
*
On Monday morning when she saw Richard in an early morning site meeting she decided he looked tired and miserable. Later that night, while they lay holding each other in bed, he told her about the depressing silence and atmosphere all weekend at home. She’d looked worryingly at him but he’d kissed the frown on her forehead, pulled a funny face then licked her cheeks until she was helpless with laughter.
This, she noticed, began to form a pattern over the next month. His look of sadness usually lifted by lunchtime on a Monday and by early evening he’d dramatically perked up and was always back to his normal happy self.
At work within the same four weeks, and after another retailer visit, the new lines were all signed off and she began to start launch preparations. Using Helen’s information the specification team drew up the documents and product profiles they needed – Richard had his final costing reports with sales forecast ready, and the process technologists were finalising production trials in the factory.
*
‘It’s been such a hellish month. I’ve been so busy at work I’ve had to do most of the packing at weekends because I’ve worked late nearly every night of the week,’ Helen told Rachel one Saturday morning.
They were sitting in the kitchen on stools looking at the bare walls and benches cleared free of kitchen equipment and knick-knacks. The house sale was ready to complete within the next week and Rachel was at home for the weekend.
‘It’s sad to look around at the house nearly stripped bare. But at the same time you must be excited about moving into the new apartment,’ Rachel said.
Helen smiled. ‘I am and I hope you are too. I’ve been telling myself to look forward and not backward while I’ve been packing. But there are lots of memories in this old place…’
Rachel sipped her coffee and nodded in agreement.
Helen touched the side of Rachel’s cheek tenderly. ‘I’ve kept some of your old school reports and pictures you drew for us though. I just couldn’t bear to throw them out,’ she said. ‘And there’s two bags of stuff in your room you need to sort through and either keep or chuck out’
Rachel jumped up. ‘I’ll sort it later,’ she said heading to the stairs. ‘I’m meeting Dad at twelve in Covent Garden.’
Rob had told Helen that he was buying an old property with Stephanie and she’d agreed a deal with him to take their old furniture, which gave her more money to buy smaller modern pieces for the apartment.
*
Later that afternoon Helen was sitting on the edge of her bed folding clothes when she heard Rachel arrive back and thump up the stairs calling for her.
She stood in the doorway with a flushed red face. ‘So when were you going to tell me?’ she shouted, both her hands scrunched into fists on the side of her jeans.
Helen turned to face her with a sinking heart and wondered what Rob had said now to upset her. ‘Oh, love. What’s he done now?’
‘Oh, he hasn’t done anything, Mum. For once he’s the only one telling me the truth!’
Helen’s mind raced with confusion. ‘Eh? Wh-what are you talking about?’
Rachel sneered. ‘I’m talking about you having an affair with your married boss.’
Sweet Jesus, she thought panicking, how on earth had they found out about Richard? Her body tensed in shock and her heart began to race. She could feel sweat form on her top lip as she stared at the disbelief on her daughter’s face – in that instant she looked remarkably like her father. ‘Oh, love, I’m so sorry,’ she croaked.
‘You’re sorry,’ she snapped. ‘What are you sorry about? Sorry I found out – or sorry that after the pact we made to tell each other the truth, you’ve been lying to me for months?’
Tears formed in the back of her throat as Helen remembered the day in the garden. ‘I’m sorry about it all,’ she stated flatly. ‘But more sorry that you’ve found out like this.’
Once again she felt she had to justify her actions, but now it was to Rachel – the same as she’d done to Karen. For God’s sake, she railed, this was her life. She was a grown woman so why did she have to gain permission to have a relationship with a man?
Rachel stormed around the small bedroom ranting. ‘Dad said he’d bumped into Tom in a club last week who’d drunkenly told him everyone at work was talking about you having an affair with the new manager. And that he’s married with two kids!’
Helen sighed heavily and wanted to say that it wasn’t like that, but she knew it was best to let Rachel get it out of her system.
‘Dad says you walk around like Miss Goody-two-shoes and all the time you’ve been knocking off a married man! Can’t you see that you’re doing exactly what Dad’s young dolly-birds have done to you! And even if you have no shame about cheating on another woman – what about his children? I mean, for Christ’s sake, Mum, just because your home has been broken it doesn’t mean you have to do the same to someone else,’ she yelled. The last sentence seemed to take all the wind from her and she slumped down on the stool in front of the dressing table and stared at the carpet.
Helen moved cautiously towards the end of the bed and laid her hand on the end of the quilt hoping to reach out to her in reconciliation. ‘Rachel,’ she said calmly. ‘It’s not like that at all. Just let me try to explain what’s happened.’
Rachel lifted her head slightly and looked at her with eyes that held such hope. She could see her daughter wanted her to say it was all lies and fabrication, but she said. ‘I haven’t told you about Richard, but there again I haven’t told anyone about him – circumstances don’t allow for that. But this is not a casual fling and it’s something that I haven’t undertaken lightly.’
Realising that she had to treat Rachel as a grown woman she told her all about Richard, his life at home and their relationship.
‘And you love him?’ she asked timidly. ‘What’s going to happen?’
Helen took a deep breath and looked at her tartan underwear lying on top of the pile of clothes – it gave her renewed confidence. ‘After you, Rachel, he’s the most important thing in my life. I’ve never loved any man like I do him, not even your father. And we’re still talking about things at the moment – nothing concrete has been decided. But I promise you that as soon as it is you will be the first to know…’
Rachel stood up and looked down at her. ‘OK,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m not saying I understand or agree with what you’re doing but there’s not much I can do about it.’
Helen stood up too and wanted to hug her, but Rachel turned away from her and went into her own bedroom, closing the door behind her. Helen flung herself onto the bed and cried. She cried for hours at what she saw as the unjustness of her situation, the hurt and pain she’d caused her sister and daughter, and the longing to be with Richard, who she missed more and more every weekend.
*
Helen’s father rang next morning to invite her and Rachel for a celebratory afternoon tea for Karen. This should help the situation, Helen thought, as she drove them to Highfield Road. An awkward silence had settled between them since their argument and she didn’t want Rachel’s whole weekend at home to be marred by the atmosphere. As Helen locked the car Rachel was already running down the path and throwing her arms around her grandfather. He hugged and squeezed her tightly and they walked arm in arm into the house.
She smiled, watching Greg and Karen kiss Rachel and squeeze her in between them on the settee – not for the first time, Helen thought that Rachel looked more like Karen’s daughter than her own. Charles was fussing over the spread he’d laid out on the small table in the corner of the lounge while Helen sat in the armchair and looked at the congratulations balloons and banners which were spread around the room.
‘Granddad, have you made me tuna sandwiches?’ Rachel asked.
He spun around and teased. ‘Oh, I forgot they were your favourite. I’ve done chicken today.’
She jumped up and went to him. ‘You fibber!’ she giggled, and picked a tuna sandwich from the plate.
‘Come on then,’ Charles said. ‘Get stuck in!’
By the food that Charles had prepared, Helen could tell they were all their favourites, Victoria sponge cake for Greg, lemon meringue pie for Karen and chocolate cake for herself. Lively laughter and excited chatter filled the room as they ate and then Charles disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray, five glasses and a bottle of champagne.
‘Can I help with that bottle?’ Greg asked.
Charles placed the tray carefully on the coffee table and Helen noticed how old and lined her father’s hands looked now. Although he was seventy, she was guilty of not noticing how age had crept up on him while she wasn’t looking. ‘Thanks, Greg, but no. I want to open this bottle myself. I want to pop the cork to celebrate the fact that my darling daughter has escaped the horrible fate that befell her mother.’
Greg, dressed in his usual brown jacket and corduroy trousers, nodded respectfully. ‘Charles, that is perfectly understandable,’ he muttered.
Karen beamed at her father and Helen noticed how well she looked in a beige summer dress glowing with the golden tan from their week in Tenerife – her big brown eyes were shining. ‘Oh, Dad.’ She jumped up to kiss him on the cheek.
Helen looked at her sister and felt a huge wave of relief that she’d got the all clear from the hospital and they’d caught the disease early enough. If they hadn’t and it had spread, she thought, swallowing back tears that threatened to choke her, well, the thought of living without her sister just didn’t bear thinking about.
Greg held the glasses while Charles popped the cork to loud whoops and cheers then steadily poured the champagne. Greg handed them around and her father raised his glass, looked at the photo of their mother, and said. ‘She’s safe, Gabriella,’ he soothed. ‘Our little girl is out of danger…’
Helen got up and stood at his side with tears sliding down her cheeks. Karen joined them and stood on the other side – he put his arms around their waists as they looked together at the image of their beautiful mother.
Just before they were about to leave Helen was standing at the kitchen sink washing the last of the dishes with Charles when suddenly he laid the tea towel down. ‘Helen,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything today at Karen’s celebration tea but as I’ve got you to myself I wanted to talk to you about this married man…’
A cup slipped from Helen’s hand in shock at his words – thankfully it plopped back into the soapy water rather than onto the floor. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard her father say. A ball of anger started in her stomach and crept its way up to her chest until she wanted to scream in temper. Knowing it was Karen who had told him she seethed and glared at him.
‘Now, now,’ he hushed. ‘She didn’t want to tell me but I knew she was worried about something and I made her. I promised I wouldn’t say anything but I can’t stand by and see you waste your life.’
She stared incredulously at him. ‘Waste my life?’ she shouted, grabbing the tea towel and drying her hands. She gripped the side of the sink taking deep breaths and fighting the urge to go back
into the lounge to tear strips off her sister. She stared steadily at her father. ‘For a start, Dad, neither you nor Karen know anything about Richard and whether he is the type of man, as you say, to waste my life on. And I am absolutely sick to death of you all telling me how to live my life,’ she said resolutely. ‘Whether you’ve noticed or not, I am thirty-nine years old and more than capable of making my own decisions and choices in life.’
His crinkly eyes saddened at her cutting words. ‘Yes, love, I do know how old you are, but it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop worrying and caring about you.’
‘Oh yeah,’ she lashed out. ‘So where were you when Rob was cheating on me for eighteen years and trying to hit on my sister the day Rachel was born? If ever there was a man to waste my life on it was him! But because he put a wedding ring on my finger that made it all right – did it?’
Her whole body was trembling and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. Charles slowly shook his head and put his hand on her arm but she shrugged it away – she needed to get outside and away from them all.
‘Rachel…’ she called storming to the doorway. ‘We’ll have to go now.’
*
She lay in bed watching every hour of the clock tick past. Every time she felt her eyes droop sleepily they’d snap wide open with the horrible words she’d screamed at her father and the equally horrible words Rachel had shouted at her. And this, she thought sadly, was all because she wanted to be with the man she loved.
Dragging herself through work the next day wasn’t easy and when Richard looked at her, his eyes full of concern; she told him flatly that they needed to talk. They arranged to meet at her house after work and she left earlier than usual feigning a migraine.
The sun had shone all day and July was turning into a lovely month of true English summer. Arriving home at three o’clock she stood under a hot shower and then decided to put her blue spotty bikini on and lie out in the garden to catch up on her sleep before the upset which would undoubtedly follow later.
A Taste of Love Page 11