by June Francis
He kissed her and she found herself fighting an overwhelming urge to press down on him as his mouth started to move over her throat and her breasts. Then he looked up at her and her mouth searched for his blindly and she pressed down on him, allowing the waves of sensation to wash over her. Dear God! she thought. How did you think of it being done like this? Did you know what it would feel like? There was pain in it but not so much that it prevented her from obeying the compelling urge deep inside her.
‘Stop, Viv!’ Nick’s tones were so urgent that she instantly obeyed him but inwardly she trembled at the enforced restraint.
Her eyelids flickered open. ‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered.
‘I need the control now,’ he said indistinctly and carefully rolled her over. ‘Now go with me, slowly at first.’
She nodded but then found that it was very hard to obey him. She switched off her mind and was aware only of that physical desire urging her to drive herself to a goal she had no conception of but knew she had to reach or be swallowed up in the attempt. Slowly a mild sunspot of pleasure rippled through her and she heard Nick sigh. Then he was obeying the pressure of her hands on his spine.
Afterwards Viv lay lazily stroking his bare chest. ‘You made me do it,’ she murmured. ‘I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to do it. But you made me …’
He took her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘Now you know why the birds do it, and bees.’
‘Don’t tell me about fleas,’ she said. I can’t imagine fleas doing it, even educated ones.’
‘No fleas.’ He smiled down at her. ‘The right person, the right mood, the right place, Viv.’
She nodded. ‘And now what? Do we just go on to have our picnic as if nothing had happened?’
‘In a minute. If you get pregnant …’ said Nick.
Her fingers tightened about his. ‘After all I’ve said to my mother about sinning! Now I’m as bad as her. We should have waited, Nick.’
He frowned. ‘I hate that word “sinning”. Forget about whether it’s wrong or right for the moment. I just want to say if you do get pregnant, I’ll find us a flat. We’ll get married immediately and take our chances on it working out.’
She sat up abruptly. ‘Thank you, kind sir, but isn’t that what happened with your mother and father? And I don’t know if I like the way you doubt it will work out! If we love each other, really love each other, it will work.’
His frown disappeared. ‘Of course it will. How stupid of me!’
‘Yes. How stupid!’ She wrapped her arms around her raised knees. ‘We shouldn’t have taken such a chance. It was a bit like Russian roulette. I won’t be having another shot at it, Nick, until we’re married.’
‘We could take precautions.’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘I’ve heard about those things. They’re not always one hundred percent safe.’
He smiled. ‘Russian roulette, Viv.’
‘You might be too good a shot, Nick,’ she said quietly, shaking her head and reaching for the bag that contained the sandwiches. ‘It’s a game I don’t think I want to play.’
‘Let’s wait and see.’
She was silent but had already made up her mind. If her mother guessed what she had done she would be convinced that she’d been right about Nick all along. Viv was suddenly uneasy. Her mother couldn’t be right, could she?
Nick smiled at her and she thought, No. Then she began to hope and pray that she had not got herself pregnant in one careless afternoon.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘He’s asked her to marry him.’
‘What?’ Dominic spluttered into his glass of beer.
‘You heard me!’ Hilda scowled at her gin and tonic. ‘She hasn’t said anything, of course, but something’s happened. On Sunday she came in and there was a look on her face … Love’s young dream!’ She tapped a scarlet-painted fingernail against her teeth. ‘She glowed. It was as if there was a lamp lit under her skin. I hope they haven’t done anything.’
Dominic sighed. ‘Well, you can’t blame him, can you? She’s a peach, is your Viv, and they have been going out with each other for a while.’
Hilda stared at him then kicked his shins under the table. He winced and glanced about the half empty lounge of the Gregson’s Well pub to see if anyone had noticed.
‘That’s my daughter you’re talking about,’ she muttered. ‘And I’m not having Nick Bryce messing her about. Thinks just because he knows things he can get away with doing what he likes. He’s as bad as his mother.’
Dominic refrained from saying that some might say Viv was as bad as her mother but he need not have bothered, Hilda said it for him. ‘I know I’m no Miss Pears. But I was looking forward to a white wedding for Viv with all the trimmings. I have my outfit planned.’
Dominic grinned. ‘Who was she going to marry?’
‘Some rich bloke. It can be done.’ She nodded her head several times. ‘I managed it twice. It could have been three times if I’d played my cards right but Stephen wasn’t buying.’
‘So that’s what it was?’
‘What what was?’ She stared at him.
‘You had your eye on him but he preferred Viv.’
‘Did I say that?’ Her voice was steely.
‘Not in so many words. But he wanted her to visit him, not you.’ There was a certain satisfaction in his tone. Sometimes Hilda’s attitude was hurtful and on occasions he had felt that she was just using him without understanding just how much he had to lose by seeing her.
‘Well, he didn’t get what he wanted, did he?’ she said, her eyes glinting.
‘Didn’t he?’ Dominic drained his glass and stood up. ‘D’you want another?’
‘Yes. But – wait a minute. What do you mean: “Didn’t he?”’ She looked up at him. ‘He hasn’t been around again while I’ve been out, has he?’ Her tone was suspicious.
Dominic had second thoughts about what he was going to say and vanished quickly in the direction of the bar.
When he came back Hilda grabbed hold of his sleeve. ‘Now let’s be having it, Dom. You haven’t told our Viv that Stephen came looking for her, have you?’ She fixed him with a rapier sharp stare.
‘It sort of slipped out,’ he muttered. ‘It was when she was off sick and you went into town to buy a sofa.’
‘That’s a couple of weeks ago and she hasn’t mentioned a word.’ Her heart suddenly felt like stone inside her. ‘You’ll regret this, Dominic Kelly,’ she said harshly. ‘I trusted you to keep quiet.’
‘So did she,’ he muttered in resigned tones. ‘Poor kid. What are you going to do?’
‘Poor kid? Poor kid!’ Her voice rose. ‘She didn’t swear you to secrecy, did she?’
He was silent.
Hilda downed both glasses of gin and tonic and said, ‘We’re finished, Dom.’ She picked up her handbag and walked out.
It was when she was halfway home that she decided what she was going to do and retraced some of her journey to catch a different bus.
The wind tugged at Hilda’s silk scarf as she stared up at Stephen’s pebble-dashed semi with its leaded windows. It was one of those cold days that sometimes come in summer and she huddled inside her fur coat.
Not bad, she thought, but he could afford better. No wonder our Viv wanted to keep me away. What has she been up to? I bet she’s visited him here more than once. Perhaps it’s him she’s been with and not Nick. She felt a burst of anger. It isn’t right! A man of his age and a young girl. Viv needs protecting from herself and what Steve needs is a real woman to push him that little bit harder …
She thought of Viv out with Dot and was glad that she knew exactly where her daughter was because sometimes Viv had a temper to match her own. It would not do for them to come face to face on Stephen’s doorstep. Not just yet. Without hesitating any further, Hilda walked up the step and rang the bell.
Stephen opened the door and did a double-take. ‘What the hell do you want?’ he said, unsmiling.
H
ilda threw back her head and laughed. ‘No wonder you never won a sunshine badge – or our Flo’s heart!’
He flushed. ‘You’re insulting. But you always did have a tongue sharp enough to cut yourself.’
She put a hand on his sleeve. ‘I thought it was time we had a talk. My daughter’s been visiting you, I believe? I don’t know whether I like that. You’re old enough to be her father. If you admitted to being her uncle, of course, it’s possible I might feel different about her seeing you. Otherwise I think I might have to insist she has nothing further to do with you.’
‘How did you find out?’ he said quietly.
She looked him squarely in the face and smiled. ‘You’d better ask me in and we’ll talk about it.’
Stephen hesitated, then shrugged. ‘I suppose you’d better come in. But don’t think you’re staying long.’
‘What a gentleman you are, Steve.’ As he stepped aside for her to enter she patted his cheek.
He grabbed her wrist, his eyes furious. ‘Don’t do that. I’m not your puppy dog.’
‘Sorry.’ She pressed against him so that his balance shifted and the front door banged against the wall as he was forced against it. Her lips touched his. ‘So sorry.’ It was a long time since she had played such games.
He dropped her wrist, pushed her into the house and slammed the door. ‘You’ve been drinking.’
Hilda made no reply but walked up the hall and through the open doorway on the left. ‘Nice,’ she said, glancing about her as she pulled off her gloves. ‘I like modern furniture. It’s easier to clean around.’ She slipped off her fur coat and held it out to him. He hesitated, then took it and hung it in the hall. She sat in the middle of the studio coach which was pulled up in front of a slumbering coal fire.
‘Well?’ Stephen stood to one side of the fireplace, scowling down at her.
‘Well?’ she responded with a glittering smile, smoothing down the tight black skirt before picking a non-existent thread from the swell of her breasts in a cream taffeta blouse. ‘What have you to say for yourself? I hope you haven’t been leading my little girl astray? She’s got a romantic soul and sees you in the light of a fairy godfather. I hope you haven’t disappointed her so far?’
‘Why didn’t you tell her I’d called?’
‘I was angry. Don’t you ever get angry when you’ve been rejected, Steve?’
He remained silent, fiddling with the ear of a slender white porcelain cat on the mantelpiece.
‘Who told you she was working for me?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Working for you! She’s never said a word! I never thought she had it in her to be so sneaky.’
‘She’s not sneaky! I asked her not to tell you,’ he said roughly. I didn’t want you coming round here causing trouble.’
‘Why should I cause trouble? What have you been up to?’ Her tone was angry. ‘She’s pretty, isn’t she, our Viv? Does she ever remind you of our Flo?’
‘No! She reminds me of you.’ He looked away and removed the porcelain cat from the shelf with a violent movement.
‘Don’t break it,’ cried Hilda, her heart leaping inside her with sudden surprise. So that was the way it was! She got up and took the cat from him. ‘Me?’ He made no answer. ‘Guilt’s a terrible thing, don’t you think, Steve?’ she said softly. ‘Did you often wish them dead?’
‘No!’ His eyes glistened. She had not needed to cross ts or dot an i, he knew who she was talking about.
‘Liar.’ She stood so close to him now that her breath warmed his cheek and she could see how thickly his dark eyelashes curled. ‘Did you put a curse on them?’ she said in a mocking voice. ‘Did you always want what Jimmy had because he wouldn’t let you near it?’ Still he remained silent. She goaded him a bit further. ‘But he’s not here now, is be, Steve? You can grab whatever you want if you only have the courage.’
‘You’re a bitch!’ His voice was husky.
‘You always knew that, but it didn’t stop you fancying me.’ She put a hand on his chest but he wrenched it away and, taking hold of her blouse by the shoulders, pulled it apart with a strength that shocked the life out of her. ‘Steve, what are you doing?’ she gasped. ‘Take it easy, take it easy!’ He dragged her against him and tore the button off her skirt. ‘This skirt cost me a lot of money,’ she cried. He ignored her words, pushing her on to the studio couch and dragging down the zip of her skirt. She tried to keep it up. ‘Hang on, Steve. There’s no need to behave like this.’ He ignored her pleas, pinged her suspender button and rubbed her leg as he kissed her with an ardour that almost stopped her breathing.
He had utterly jolted her composure. Even so, she found it exciting. Dom had become just as predictable as Charlie. Always careful, always the same, never taking chances … not that she wanted to get pregnant. Now it was probably too late, even though she still had the odd period.
‘Let’s have a drink,’ she whispered when Stephen lifted his mouth from hers.
‘You’ve had enough to drink.’ He nuzzled her throat, slid a hand between her breasts and down over her stomach. She began to tremble. It was so unexpected and the unscarred side of his face reminded her of Jimmy. Was this how it would have been if they had made love?
Stephen drew away and threw his trousers over the back of the couch. His underpants followed. She was shaking all over as without a word his body covered hers and slowly he entered her. Unexpectedly tears sprang into her eyes. She was thinking of when they were both young, remembering how he had stood on the sidelines watching her talking to Jimmy or Tom. Why hadn’t she been kinder to him? Why had she always had to tease him unmercifully? Was it because she had known even then that of the three lads his intentions had always been good? Too good to think she was worth anything afterwards when everything went wrong. She only knew that now she felt sorry for the way she had treated him. Perhaps he sensed her feelings because suddenly he was being more considerate.
When it was over she was aware of him looking at her with an anxious expression. ‘Did I hurt you?’
She shook her head and said huskily, ‘Can I have a drink?’
‘We’ll both have a drink.’ He went over to the cocktail cabinet and poured two whiskies. He topped hers up with ginger ale. ‘I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand but once I started I couldn’t stop.’
She made no reply but sipped her drink. Eventually she said, ‘I shouldn’t accept your apology really … ripping my blouse off like that.’ A smile curved her still beautiful mouth.
‘I’m sorry. I’ll buy you another.’ He poured himself another whisky.
‘Generous of you,’ she said drily, watching him drink and thinking, He’s changed. Is that Viv’s doing? She experienced a pang of jealousy. She needed to compose herself, to go to the toilet. ‘Bathroom?’
‘Upstairs.’ He gazed at her in her underwear and she saw that the desire was still there and was suddenly thrilled because he wanted her.
She took her fur coat from the hook in the hall and put it on to go upstairs. It was a fully tiled bathroom with a good size bath. She used the toilet and then ran the hot tap, checking the temperature. She decided to have a bath.
She locked the door and gazed at herself in the mirror. ‘He really fancies you, middle-aged and with all your faults,’ she told her reflection, and pushed the thought of her daughter firmly aside. Her lips curved into a smile as she switched off the taps and slid into the Radoxed water.
When she came out of the bathroom, smelling of Old Spice talc and clad in just the fur coat, Stephen was sitting on the stairs with the bottle of whisky beside him. Its level had sunk a couple of inches. He glanced up at her. ‘Can we go in the bedroom, please?’ The words were slurred.
‘How polite,’ she said and held out her hand. He took it and she helped lever him to his feet. ‘But a little less of the strong arm tactics if you don’t mind, Steve.’
His dark brows drew together and he touched her arm again, stroking the fur. ‘Nice. Soft.’
‘You’re the soft one,’ she murmured, smiling. ‘Now where’s my drink?’
‘In the bedroom,’ he repeated, handing her the bottle. ‘I’ve put glasses there.’
‘Good lad.’ Hand in hand, they entered the bedroom.
‘Keep the coat on,’ he whispered, rubbing the fur that curved over her breast as she poured them both a whisky.
‘If that’s what you want.’ Hilda looked about her. Nice. New. She had seen something like that wardrobe in town. Sherry walnut shade, that’s what it was, and it cost fifteen quid bar sixpence. The eiderdown was figured oyster satin and cool to the touch. He wanted her to be on top of it and told her to take her coat off.
‘Put it over us,’ he whispered. ‘Furry side down.’
‘All right.’ She swallowed a mouthful of whisky. ‘Did you know there’d been a smash and grab in Bold Street a while ago? They stole three thousand pounds worth of furs. Imagine sleeping on that lot.’
‘Comfy.’ He took the whisky bottle and placed it on the floor and pulled her towards him. His head sank on to her breast and for quite a while nothing happened. Then he began to run his fingers up and down the fur covering her breasts. ‘Mam always wanted a beaver lamb,’ he said softly. ‘What’s this fur?’
‘Mink.’ Her voice was filled with pride. ‘I bought it with some of the insurance money after my husband died. Feels lovely, doesn’t it?’
‘Lovely. I always wanted to buy Mam one.’ His voice quivered. ‘Did you know she died too?’
‘Of course, silly. Sad for you.’
‘And our Jimmy. But he had you to console him.’ He frowned into her face, pushing back the peroxided hair. ‘He often mentioned you but there were other women in his life. You were well rid of him, you know. You were well rid.’ He kissed her mouth with a hunger that still made her want to weep. She felt quite odd. She had guessed there might be depths to him but never suspected what was there. He kissed the soles of her feet and her bones felt as if they were melting. She let out a tiny squeal as he nuzzled where she did not expect. After that she stopped thinking altogether.
Later, after a cup of coffee, he saw her to the door. She smiled inwardly because as he handed over her fur coat he avoided looking straight at her. Was he ashamed now of what they had done? Probably. He had always been a very moral bloke. But she was not going to let him stop now.