Fallen Angels

by Tara Hyland

  ‘Sorry, I can’t,’ Cara told him.

  She turned to go, hoping that would be an end to it, but he moved in front of her, blocking her escape. Alarm bells began to sound in her head, and she cursed her decision not to get a cab. Usually she always got a taxi home, but because it was a lovely warm summer’s evening, she’d decided to walk up to Oxford Street and catch a night-bus instead. Looking around, she saw that the street was deserted, which meant she was going to have to deal with this by herself.

  ‘Come on, sweetie. Just have one little drink with me.’ His eyes were pleading.

  Cara sighed. This happened a lot, especially with the younger guys. They took the hostesses’ flirtation too seriously, and assumed that their skimpy costumes meant they were easy. Cara could just imagine the conversation that had gone on between this man and his Old Etonian mates – they’d probably dared him to see if he could lay the cheap waitress.

  ‘Look,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m tired and I want to get home. And if you’ve got any sense, you’ll go and see that fiancée of yours – Victoria, isn’t it?’

  She made to push past him, thinking he’d let her go now. But the drink and spirit of the evening must have been getting to him, because he grabbed her shoulders and backed her up against the nearby wall.

  ‘Hey, not so fast.’ His eyes were hard, all his good-natured banter gone. She could smell whiskey on his breath. ‘After that tip I left, the least you can do is be nice to me.’

  Cara was just thinking about slamming her knee up into his groin, when a voice came out of the darkness.

  ‘Oi! What do you think you’re playing at?’

  Looking up, Cara saw to her relief that it was Danny, running down the middle of the road, straight at them, his eyes blazing with anger. Seeing him, Hugo released his grip on Cara, but before he could move away, Danny was already on him. One punch caught the posh lad across the jaw; the next landed in his stomach, sending him stumbling backwards. He probably would have fallen to the ground, but Danny grabbed his lapels and hauled him back up, holding the other man close so he could keep hitting him.

  ‘You like a bit of this, do you?’ The East End lad slapped him across the face with the back of his hand, splitting his lip. The wedding photos were going to look a treat, Cara couldn’t help thinking. ‘Not such a hard man now, are you?’

  Blood was bubbling up out of Hugo’s mouth, but Danny still didn’t seem to be relenting. As grateful as Cara was to him for rescuing her, she hadn’t wanted this. Seeing two policemen rounding the corner, she knew it was time to get away.

  ‘Danny! Stop!’ Cara tugged at his arm, but he didn’t let go. His eyes flicked over to her, and she could see a black rage there. She needed to find a way to get through to him. ‘He’s not worth it. Come on, let it go,’ she urged him. ‘The coppers are coming, and you’ll end up back inside.’

  Those final words brought him to his senses.

  ‘All right, I hear you.’ He pulled Hugo up, so their faces were level, and hissed out his final warning. ‘Don’t you ever touch a woman like that again.’ Then he gave the other man one last, hard shove, so that he fell backwards onto the ground.

  Cara grabbed Danny’s hand. ‘Come on,’ she pressed. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  They ran down the road, turning onto busy Wardour Street. One of the policemen gave chase, blowing his whistle and yelling at them to stop, but they managed to lose him in the crowd. Once they were away, they hailed a cab and climbed in. Both of them were breathing too hard to speak at first. They sat silently, staring out of the car windows, watching the London streets speed by.

  ‘Thanks,’ Cara said finally. ‘I’m glad you came along when you did.’

  ‘No problem.’ Danny waited a beat, and then asked, ‘But what happened to Charlie?’ He was the bouncer that Cara had been dating. ‘Why wasn’t he there looking out for you?’

  ‘We broke up.’

  ‘Oh?’ Danny gave her a sideways look. ‘Chucked you, did he?’

  She elbowed him in the stomach. ‘Mind your own business.’ In fact, she’d broken things off with Charlie. He was a nice enough guy, but there’d been no spark between them. Not that she’d ever admit that to Danny.

  Laughing he said, ‘Sorry, love, but you know I’m only kidding.’ Then, more seriously, ‘He’d have to be crazy to dump you.’

  Cara looked away, as always unsure how to deal with Danny flirting with her. Since coming out of prison, he’d been treating her differently, no longer like a little sister, and it still threw her. It was what she had wanted for so long, which made her scared of how she’d feel if it went away. So, instead, she turned the comment into a joke. ‘It’s too late for apologies,’ she said, pretending to be offended. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to forgive you for saying that.’

  Danny played along, making his eyes wide with pleading. ‘There must be something I can do . . .’

  Cara considered the matter for a moment. ‘Well . . . you could buy me some grub,’ she relented. ‘I’m bleedin’ starving after tonight’s shenanigans.’

  They asked the cab to drop them outside Rock ’n’ Roe, which was on their route home. They bought a bag of chips each and ate them walking along the street. By the time they got back to Annie’s, the salt and vinegar had soaked through the newspaper and onto Cara’s hands. Without thinking, she licked her fingers. Danny smiled slyly at her.

  ‘Want me to do that for you?’

  Cara gave him a wry look. ‘No, thanks. I think I’ve had just about enough unwanted male attention for one night.’

  He took a step closer, so they were practically touching in the darkened hallway.

  ‘Is it really that unwanted?’

  The breath caught in Cara’s chest, her heart began to beat faster. Now the moment was here, she didn’t know what to do. ‘Danny . . .’ she began, not quite sure what to say next.

  ‘Danny?’ Annie’s voice came down the stairs. ‘Is that you, son?’

  The moment was broken. Cara stepped back, away from Danny. ‘I should go to bed,’ she told him.

  She made to turn away, but Danny put his hand out to stop her.

  ‘Wait a sec,’ he said. ‘I had something I wanted to tell you.’

  ‘What?’ She looked at him expectantly.

  ‘I’ve found myself a flat.’

  ‘You’re moving out?’ Cara was devastated.

  ‘Yeah. It’s getting a bit much here.’ As if to prove his point, they could hear Annie moving around upstairs, muttering about not being able to find her slippers. ‘Want to come and see the place with me?’

  ‘Course!’ Cara said eagerly. The fact that he wanted her to come along more than made up for the thought of him not being around all the time.

  It hadn’t taken long for Danny to find a place he liked. One of Finnbar’s contacts had a flat for rent, and gave him a good deal. It was in Notting Hill, a sign that Danny was going up in the world. It was the perfect reward for losing almost two years of freedom.

  Annie tried to share in his excitement, but it was hard, knowing that her son was moving out and moving on. Although she was pleased that he was doing well for himself, she was sad to be losing him, too.

  ‘I’m gonna take Cara round there later,’ he told her. ‘See what she thinks of the place.’

  Annie’s eyes narrowed. She had known this was coming, sensed the change since Danny had come out of the nick, seen the way his eyes followed Cara.

  Now she said: ‘Just be careful, son. Cara’s not like all those other tarts you’re used to. She’s special. Don’t mess her around.’

  Danny spread his arms wide. ‘Mum!’ he protested. ‘As if . . .’

  But Annie wasn’t having any of it. ‘You’ve been warned,’ was all she’d say.

  Cara looked around what Danny called a flat. She hadn’t known what one was before she came here. At first, she’d been a bit sceptical – his new digs were in one of those big white houses near Notting Hill tube station, which Annie woul
d no doubt call ‘la-di-dah’ – but then she’d walked in and seen how beautiful it was. He had the whole of the top floor, and there was a real sense of space and light about the place. It was south-facing, and as it was mid-afternoon now, light was flooding in through the huge sash windows in the living room, with their views out across the freshly mown grass of the square.

  ‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ she breathed, taking in the high ceilings with the delicate cornicing, the stripped-wood floors and the magnolia walls. ‘Is it really all yours?’

  Danny puffed out his chest, enjoying her admiration. ‘That’s right. Of course it needs some furniture . . .’

  ‘But that’s the beauty of it.’ Cara spun around the large lounge, her arms outstretched like a plane. ‘There’s so much space!’

  He laughed at her obvious enthusiasm. ‘I’m glad it meets your approval.’

  Impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck, pleased that the scrappy boy she’d once known had made something of himself. ‘Oh, well done, Dan.’ The pride in her voice was unmistakable. ‘You’ve really arrived, haven’t you?’

  He hugged her back. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed, and there was none of the usual braggart about him. ‘We’ve both done all right for ourselves, ain’t we?’

  They stood there for a moment longer, her head resting against his chest, so she could hear his heart beating. It was then that she became aware of him: his hands either side of her waist; the proximity of his warm male body against hers. She pulled away a little, just enough so she was still standing in the circle of his arms, looking up at him. She was about to speak, to make an excuse about it being time to leave, but in that second their eyes locked, and something changed between them.

  ‘I should go,’ she whispered.

  But Danny’s grip tightened on her. ‘Hey, not so fast.’ He reached up and tucked a lock of her sooty black hair behind her ear. ‘You’ve got beautiful, you know that?’ he said tenderly.

  Cara felt her heart speed up, her mouth go dry. She’d wanted this for so long, but now the moment was here, she was terrified. ‘Dan . . .’ she said warningly, dropping her gaze.

  ‘Shush. Enough talking.’

  She did as he said and shut up, standing perfectly still as he reached one hand under her chin and tipped her face up, so she was staring right at him: so close that she could feel his hot breath on her face, and see the desire in his dark eyes. Then he bent his head and kissed her.

  Cara had imagined this moment for so long, playing the scene again and again in her head, that she’d suspected it could never live up to her fantasies. But it was everything she could have hoped for. His kiss was tender and sweet at first, his lips soft on hers, he was testing her out, seeing whether she minded; then suddenly his hands were in her hair, pulling her closer, his mouth hungrily, greedily devouring her, moving to her neck, biting at her earlobes, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

  To Cara, it felt as if the breath had been ripped from her body. She’d been kissed before, but never with such ferocity. It was as if he’d awoken something in her, and she was kissing him back, pressing against him, her body responding instinctively. His hands were at her waist, moving under her blouse and over her bare skin.

  ‘Oh, God!’ She gasped as his fingers found the cotton and wire of her bra, sending unexpected frissons of pleasure through her.

  Hearing her, Danny pulled away. ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he said huskily.

  Taking her hand, he led her through to the bedroom. She stumbled after him, dazed and weak with desire.

  The apartment was more or less bare still, but the bed and mattress had already been delivered. Danny wasted no time, pulling off his shirt and undoing his belt. Cara hung back, suddenly unsure of herself. She hadn’t had much experience with men – she’d kissed a handful of them, and there’d been some fumbling in the back of Charlie’s car, but that was all. She was acutely aware of how much more worldly Danny was, and couldn’t help wondering how she would measure up against all the other girls, when she had no idea what she was doing. And what would he think of her body – skinny and angular, without the soft curves of Linda?

  Oblivious to everything that was going through Cara’s head, Danny went over to the record player and put on the new Rolling Stones album. With his back turned, she took the opportunity to quickly undress and slip under the covers. The sheets were fresh on, and as she lay back she could smell the distinctive floral aroma of washing power.

  Turning round, Danny saw what she had done. It must have clicked then, that she was anxious, because he came over to sit beside her.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m a bit scared,’ she admitted.

  Seeing her staring up at him, her expression frightened and trusting, Danny felt a surge of exhilaration. He might have had lots of women before, but his mother had been right: Cara was different. There had always been a connection between them, right from when they were kids. She was his, she always had been, and this would finally be his way of possessing her.

  ‘We don’t have to,’ he said.

  But she shook her head, as he’d known she would. ‘No. I want this.’

  His dark eyes glittered wickedly. ‘Thank Christ for that.’ He pretended to wipe his brow in relief. ‘I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with this otherwise.’

  He nodded down at the bulge in his trousers. Cara laughed, and whether it had been Danny’s intention or not, she felt herself start to relax. This was Danny, her Danny. Everything would be fine.

  It helped that he took it slowly at first, waiting for her to catch up. There was none of the bluff casualness that she had feared from him. Instead he was gentle and sweet, as though he sensed this was a big deal for her and wanted to make it special. It was a different side to Danny to the one most people usually saw.

  He spent a long time just lying beside her on top of the covers, simply kissing her, stroking her bare shoulders, waiting for her to make the next move. It was Cara who took it further, growing impatient for more, running her hands over the tight muscles of his arms, pushing back the covers because she wanted, needed, to feel closer to him.

  Danny continued to move agonisingly slowly, working his way down her body, kissing and licking, caressing and biting as he went, seeming to enjoy her growing impatience. She arched and stretched, as his mouth grazed the flat of her stomach; she squirmed, hardly able to stand it, as his fingers trailed across her panties, his touch deliberately, teasingly light. She felt herself moistening, hot desire spreading through her groin.

  ‘Please,’ she begged, her hips lifting, as Danny pushed the white cotton aside, his hand searching out her slickness.

  She was so far gone already that almost as soon as he touched her she began to cry out, her nails digging into his shoulders, as a hot, violent orgasm shuddered through her. She’d been so caught up with her own pleasure that she’d hardly thought about Danny’s. But now she was suddenly aware of him tugging off his jeans, his underwear; his breathing rough and ragged. Seeing how big he was, she felt a twinge of fear, unsure how he was going to fit inside her. But it was too late to go back now. She was still shaking, unable to speak, as he pushed her legs open and entered her.

  She winced, and his eyes registered surprise then tenderness as he realised that he was her first.

  ‘Am I hurting you?’

  Lying, she shook her head. She wanted to do this for Danny. As he began to move inside her, she held him close and hoped that it would always be like this between them.

  When Cara woke a little while later, it was dark outside and she was alone. It took her a moment to work out where she was. Then everything that had happened that afternoon came rushing back. In the darkness, she felt heat flood her face, then an empty pit form in her stomach. Where had Danny gone? Surely it wasn’t a good sign that he’d left before she woke up.

  It was tempting to stay closeted in the bedroom. But the sensible part of her knew that she needed to face him at some point, and she migh
t as well get it over with as soon as possible. Climbing out of bed, she grabbed the first item of clothing she could find – Danny’s white shirt – and pulled it on, hastily doing up the buttons before padding outside.

  She followed the smell of bacon and found Danny in the kitchen, making a fry-up. He didn’t look up as she walked in.

  ‘All right, Cara?’

  His voice was gruff, and her heart sank. This was it – the brush-off. The afternoon hadn’t meant anything to him.

  ‘Yeah, fine, thanks.’ She tried to sound upbeat, as though she wasn’t upset by his behaviour. There was an awkward silence. ‘Look, it’s getting late,’ she said. ‘Shall I just go?’

  Cara had judged him well. After waking up, Danny had indeed regretted the whole incident. Knowing how Cara felt about him, he knew he shouldn’t have let things go so far between them. He wasn’t a one-woman guy; once he’d slept with a girl, he wanted her out as soon as possible. So when Cara offered to leave, he felt a wave of relief, glad that she knew the score and he wouldn’t have to deal with an awkward situation.

  But then, as he turned to face her and saw her standing there – wearing his white shirt, buttoned up wrongly, her long legs bare, her dark hair dishevelled – he was struck suddenly by how sexy she looked. The realisation was followed swiftly by another: he didn’t want her to go. This wasn’t just some girl. This was Cara – his friend as well as his lover, someone he actually enjoyed hanging out with.

  So, instead of taking Cara up on her offer, he grinned at her. ‘I bloody well hope you’re not going anywhere – otherwise all this grub will go to waste.’

  Hearing his words, Cara’s face broke into a delighted smile. Dragging a stool up to the breakfast bar, she said, ‘Thank Christ – I thought you were never going to ask. Put some more sausages on, will you? I’m starving.’

  Chapter Forty-two

  London, June 1966