He'd spend most evenings visiting the cafés and restaurants that were supposed to be popular with this Beryl Bainbridge woman, but he'd only seen her the one time, and she was accompanied by a young woman. This gave him little opportunity to approach Beryl. The strident ringing of the hotel phone brought him sharply out of his reverie, and he crossed the room to pick up the receiver.
"Hello, Grant Wilson speaking."
"Hello Grant, this is Joyce. How are you?"
"I'm fed up, lonely, hungry, and miserable. How are you?"
"I'm missing you terribly, but with a bit of luck, it will all be over this evening."
"What do you mean?" he said, his spirits rising at the thought.
"Well, there's a ticket waiting for you in reception for the dinner dance at the Town Hall this evening. I told you I'd get one for you; and even better, I've arranged through a friend of a friend to get you on Beryl Bainbridge's table."
"So, tonight's the night?"
"If you think you can work that fast, it may well be. Then next week we can be on our way to Sussex, and my little cottage in Peacehaven."
"Will the photographer be in place tonight?"
"I have a contact watching you at the dance. If you think she will accept your invitation to go back to your room, just remove the handkerchief from your top pocket, and everything will be ready."
"If what you say about the woman is even half true, she'll jump at the chance to spend the evening alone with me…"
"You're not that handsome," snapped Joyce.
"It is more a matter of how lonely she is, and how keen to change things."
"Yes, of course, you're right, I'm sorry," she paused, and when he didn't reply she said, "Well, good luck, and try not to enjoy it…"
He heard the phone slam down and said, "I plan to enjoy every single moment in bed with the woman. I've been alone for almost three weeks, and I'm getting most horny."
He went over to the wardrobe and took out the new charcoal grey suit Joyce had made him buy, with a white silk shirt and dark blue tie. He laid out clean socks and underwear, and then went to the bathroom to run a hot bath. Glancing in the mirror at his image, he gave a wink and said, "That poor Bainbridge woman won't stand a chance…"
-o-
Less than a mile away, but on the other side of the railway tracks, Beryl lay on the sofa with a migraine that was not helped by the large gin and tonic she'd just finished. She was close to deciding not to go to the dinner and dance this evening, because they always ended in abject failure, with Beryl sitting alone at the table while all the other diners were laughing and dancing the night away.
The forthcoming election was only a few weeks away, however, and it was necessary for her to keep up the pressure by making as many public appearances as possible. There was usually a press photographer or two at these affairs; and with Beryl promised a seat at the top table, she may just get into one or two group photos.
Still mulling over whether to go or not, she picked up the newspaper from where she'd dropped it on the floor. Let's read my horoscope, and then I will decide…"
Turning to the back pages she found the horoscope section and started to read it aloud.
"Virgo; this is the day you've been waiting for. A tall dark stranger will offer to sweep you off your feet. Don't let this opportunity pass, or you will regret it the rest of your days."
Beryl read it through twice more, and then tore out the section. Her headache was gone, and there was a spring in her step as she made her way upstairs to the bathroom to prepare for the evening ahead.
CHAPTER 23
Some two hours later, Beryl was sitting at the table with an elderly gentleman to her left, who seemed terribly hard of hearing, because he did not answer any of her questions. There was an empty chair to her right and next to it sat a beautiful young blonde girl, barely out of her teens.
Her department boss, Graham Baines and his wife Margaret sat opposite her, and she dearly hoped the empty chair by her side was not reserved for Cyril Worthington. She tried to catch Graham's eye, but like most people at the table, he studiously ignored her.
"Hello, I'm Elizabeth Baines," said the young woman.
Beryl turned to look at the young girl with a smile and said, "I'm pleased to meet you, Elizabeth, I'm Beryl Bainbridge. That is your parents over there, I take it?"
"Yes, and it's their idea that I attend this evening. They said I may meet a young man, ignoring the fact that I have a boyfriend."
"Why is that, do you think?"
"They don't like Derek, because he's a mechanic. Dad says I must meet somebody from our own class – whatever that means."
"I'm sure your father means well," said Beryl, stuck for words and already hating the young woman who was going to be hot competition for the ‘tall dark stranger' her horoscope had promised.
"He thinks that he's always right," said Elizabeth with a sniff, "He's also said you're going to be our next Mayor – is that right?"
Beryl preened herself and said, "He may well be right, I am standing for Mayor, and many think I can win the election." Her voice tailed off as she saw the man enter the room. Surely this was him – the ‘tall dark stranger' who would offer to sweep her off her feet. He stood just inside the door, not knowing which way to go for his seat, and Beryl whispered to herself, "Oh, let it be him. Please, let it be him!"
The man seemed to glance her way, and then with purposeful strides he weaved his way through the tables until he was at her table. She saw him glance at the other guests, nodding and smiling in turn, and then walk around the table to stand before the empty chair.
"Well, so this is my chair; I shall be a veritable thorn between two roses!" he said, in a deep cultured voice.
"Not at all," replied Elizabeth with a trilling giggle, "I'm honoured to have you sitting next to me."
"The honour is all mine," said the young man, holding out his hand to Elizabeth, "My name is Grant Wilson."
"I'm Elizabeth Baines," she said, with almost a curtsey, and if looks could kill, Beryl's glaring eyes would have struck her down a dozen times already.
The man turned to Beryl, holding out his hand and said, "And who is this charming young lady?"
Beryl gave him a limp hand, and when she tried to speak her voice dried up and no sound came out. She coloured up, and struggled to clear her throat, but the hateful young girl came to her rescue when she said, "This is Miss Bainbridge, the next Mayor of Stockport."
Beryl thought she was going to die, when instead of shaking her hand he pressed it to his lips and said, "I am honoured to meet you, Miss Bainbridge."
Finding her voice at last, she managed to say, "Beryl, please call me Beryl."
The man was still holding her hand, and Beryl didn't want him to let go, but then the girl spoke again and he released her hand to turn to Elizabeth.
Beryl couldn't hear what they were talking about, because the chatter from around her seemed to circle her head, muffling her ears. She felt quite giddy with pleasure, and yet at the same time as she caught the sparkle in the young girl's eyes while she chatted to the newcomer, she felt the bile of envy rise into her stomach. Why can't I be young and beautiful, just like her?"
She'd had her hair and face made up especially for the evening by Marion, her neighbour's daughter, before getting dressed in her new, dark blue ball gown. Her hair had been coloured recently and tonight it glistened as it hung in waves around her shoulders. Just the right amount of makeup hand been applied by Marion, but extra lipstick had helped to bulk out her naturally thin lips. Before leaving home, she'd admired her reflection in the mirror, and knew she was ready to meet her promised beau.
She wasn't prepared for competition from this young girl only half her age though, and she just didn't know how to cope. He face reddened with anger as she saw Graham and Margaret Baines beaming across the table at their daughter in deep conversation with this handsome stranger. She saw his shoulders shaking with laughter at something Elizabeth sa
id, and all her prepared small talk evaporated.
The normal collection of people on her table at these dinner-dances comprised middle-aged to elderly retirees, and the talk was mostly of shopping, marriages, and deaths. She was confident that Grant Wilson was interested in none of these, despite his close fitting suit and silk shirt. The remnants of the soup course were collected, and the entrée was being set out, but still he remained turned towards the young girl and engaged in quiet conversation.
She just put a succulent portion of roast lamb into her mouth, when he swung around to her and said, "What do you think of the meal, Beryl, it's pretty tasty, isn't it?"
Unable to reply, because of the great lump of meat in her mouth, she struggled to swallow it, but is stuck in her throat. She grabbed her water and took large sips, and with some difficulty she managed to swallow the meat. The young man, however, was once more turned towards Elizabeth and deep in conversation. This was all going wrong, and she could feel her big opportunity slipping away.
The desserts came and went, and while the coffees were brought in, she saw the stage filling up with the 16-piece band hired for the evening. The bandmaster tapped on the microphone and said, "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. We start the music tonight with a slow waltz or two, followed by a quickstep when Jane Reynolds will be your guest soloist."
Beryl joined in the clapping without much enthusiasm, and watches as the lights went low and the music began. She stared mournfully at her neighbour's back, and waited for him to get up and dance with Elizabeth. Instead, he turned in his chair and beamed at Beryl.
"A waltz; this is my favourite dance," he said, gripping her knee with his hand, "May I have the honour of this dance with you, Beryl?"
For a second she was frozen still from the sudden surprise of his request and the warmth of his hand holding her leg. People didn't usually dance until about the third or fourth tune, while Beryl often didn't get a dance until they held a ‘lady's excuse me', when she would rush to get a partner.
Tonight, she wasn't going to let her opportunity slip away, especially with that hot young blonde next to Grant, so she got to her feet with a bashful smile and she felt all eyes at the table looking her way. She had never in her life ever been first on the dance floor, and as she led Grant out, holding his hand in a tight grip for confidence, she blushed at the sea of white faces looking her way.
Once on the dance floor, however, with Grant's arms around her, all her worries melted away. The one thing in life she excelled at was ballroom dancing, and in seconds they were gliding around the dance floor as if they'd been partners for many years. In the first few steps, she realised Grant was also an expert dancer, and she followed his lead to perfection.
Tonight, she flew around the floor like Debbie Reynolds dancing with Gene Kelly, and she didn't realise they were the only couple dancing until the song finished and everybody started clapping. Many people were even giving them a standing ovation.
Looking around the room she saw Graham and his wife clapping, while their young daughter was standing as she clapped and cheered. There was a flash of light, and she saw the photographer from the local paper taking their photo, and Beryl didn't even blush as she curtsied to Grant's bow.
They slipped effortlessly back into the next dance; this time with other couples joining them. As his strong arm held her body on some of the more complicated turns, Beryl felt happier than at any other time in her life, and when he smiled at her, she almost fainted with pleasure.
They didn't stop dancing for over thirty minutes, getting another round of clapping for their performance of the polka. Finally, she said, "Grant, I'm really enjoying this, but I just have to have a rest."
"I'm so glad you asked, I was about to fall over from exhaustion."
They laughed as she led him, hand in hand, back to their table. She was pleased to see there was no sign of Elizabeth, but she was not too concerned after the fantastic dancing with Grant she'd just enjoyed.
When she was halfway through her second drink, she noticed Elizabeth returning to the table with her father, and guessed they'd been dancing together. She took Grant's hand, and said, "Shall we?" and stood up, so he had no chance to cry off.
She need not have worried, he didn't even glance towards Elizabeth who smiled across at him, and in seconds she was in his arms once again. A slow waltz started, and the lights went even lower, with the only light on the dance floor coming from the spots of light from the spinning ball above as it was caught by the coloured spotlights.
She felt his arm pull her body closer and she let her head slip into the crook of his neck. Their bodies clung together as they swayed to the music on the crowded dance floor, and she wanted the moment to go on forever.
His lips brushed her cheek, then her ear as he whispered, "It's getting too crowded now, how would you like to come back to my place for a coffee?"
Don't let this opportunity pass, or you'll regret is the rest of your days. That is what her horoscope warned, so she said, "That sounds great, Grant."
Her heart was beating as she waited for her coat, but then Grant was by her side and took her elbow. There were a few taxis outside, and she was surprised when he opened the door of the first one, and gesture her inside. A local girl, used to walking and bussing, she'd never once been in a taxi.
She heard Grant speak to the drive, "Royal Oak Hotel, please," and her heart thumped away so loud she was sure he could hear it. She felt his hand take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, and she smiled at him, a little unsure of herself now. She'd never had a boyfriend, even at school, and she did not know what was expected of her.
As she looked at his face, she guessed he was about thirty, so that's not so bad. Tonight, in this luxurious ball-gown and high-heeled shoes she felt years younger than the thirty-eight years her birth certificate showed, and so she squeezed his hand back in return.
The taxi drew up outside the hotel, and the doorman was there to open her door and usher her into the lobby. She followed a few paces behind Grant, as he walked up to the reception desk and collected his room key, and was pleased to see the lobby was empty. Then they were in the lift, up to the fifth floor, and walking hand in hand along the narrow corridor.
The hotel looked glamorous downstairs, but she saw it was quite shabby now. Grant pushed open their bedroom door, and clicked on the lights, and as she entered the room she noticed the old curtains, threadbare carpets, and musty old eiderdown on the double bed. For the first time since leaving the dance floor, she began to have doubts.
Grant went around the bed, turning on radio to some loud dance music and then the lights, and gradually the room lost its gloom and became almost cheerful. She stood at the bottom of the bed, and dropped her handbag onto the nearby chair, unsure what to do next.
Her heart went to her mouth as she saw Grant look her up and down as he walked slowly back to her. He stood right before her, his face inches from hers and he said, "You are the most beautiful woman I've seen this year." And then his lips were on hers, and she found herself returning his kisses as his arms went around her body, pulling her into a tight clinch.
His kisses were so warm and passionate, she felt herself going weak at the knees, while her heart filled with love for this man who made her feel so good. She felt his hands rubbing her shoulder, then up and down her back until her grasped her buttocks with both hands and lifted her off her feet. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and still their mouths continued with the first and best kisses of her life.
She stiffened as she felt the tip of his tongue push between her lips, and at first she tightened her lips to stop it, but then when she relaxed a little, he was inside her mouth. His tongue exploring her teeth and tongue, and as he let her feet back to the ground, she returned his kisses with rising passion. She felt the hot glow in her stomach and let her tongue caress and twist around with his.
His hot hands were on the naked flesh of her back, and for a second she stopped her kisses, because he d
ressed was zipped up to the back of her neck and she'd not felt him pull it down at all. There was a slight pressure as his fingers pushed against her back, and then her body suddenly felt loose and free. This time she heard the zip of her gown as it slid down to her bottom, and she pulled away from his kisses to look into his face.
She relaxed as she saw his broad smile, and then his hands were at her shoulders, sliding the gown down her arms, past her waist and down to the floor. The rush of cold air made her glance at her breasts, and realised he'd also undone her brassiere, which was now on the floor with her gown.
Before she could move, his hands cupped her breasts, strong fingers tweaked nipples untouched by male hands, and as their mouths came together once more, Beryl felt emotions coursing through her body she didn't know existed.
She rubbed her fingers through his hair as he kissed her neck and then took each hard nipple into his mouth in turn. He was kissing, sucking, licking and all the time caressing her breasts and body with his hands. She felt his fingers at her girdle, and moved her hands to stop him, but she was far too slow. In the blink of an eye, her panties, girdle, and stockings were at her feet, and she realised that for the first time in her life she was naked before a man.
A quick moment of anxiety fled across her face, but was gone in a second when Grant said, "I've had my fun, undressing you, and now it's your turn for fun, Beryl. You may undress me."
He stood before her, fully clothed, but with a warm comforting smile upon his face, so instead of grabbing her clothes and rushing into the bathroom – an idea that had paid her a fleeing visit – she reached out and started to undo his tie with a bright gleam in her eyes. Her dream was about to come true.
A handsome man had swept her off her feet, danced the evening away with her, and was now waiting for her warm embrace. She intended to make this moment last so it would be forever in her memory.
In The Name Of Love Page 11