by Ellen Dean
‘Mrs. Dickinson!’ a receptionist called as they were about to step into the lift. ‘I have an urgent message for you.’ She handed Hyacinth an envelope.
‘Thank you, darling.’ H tore open the envelope, scanned the message and pushed it into her handbag.
‘Problem?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing, darling. Just a friend wanting some advice.’
‘But the receptionist said it was urgent.’
‘My friend probably wanted to make sure I got her message. Now don’t you worry your pretty head about it. We’re not going to let anything spoil our special night, are we darling?’ Beth didn’t answer. H took her silence as agreement.
They stepped out of the lift and H opened the door into their suite, ‘I’ll just make a quick phone call, darling. Why don’t you go and have a nice soak in the tub.‘ She flipped open her mobile phone. ‘Use some of the new bubble bath I bought for us today. You’ll find it on the shelf. Run along now, darling, and I’ll join you shortly.’ She dismissed Beth with a wave of her hand.
Beth wanted to know who H was talking to, so kept her ear to the door. She could only hear snippets of conversation, the rise and fall of H’s voice. Twice she heard her shout, ‘Now you listen to me. She’s not ready yet. She won’t be for a long time.’
H’s voice droned on, and then there was a long silence. Sure she must have finished the call, Beth was just about to jump into the bath when H yelled, ‘How many times do I have to tell you? Penny, I hate to admit it, but I may have been wrong. Yes, there is a first time for everything.’ H faked a laugh. ‘Remind Serena that patience is a virtue. And you would do well to remember that yourself. I will be paying you a visit soon to remind you personally.’
As H finished her conversation Beth turned off the taps.
Despite running the water slowly the bath was full. She undressed and stepped into the tub expecting H to walk in. She didn’t.
She was busy searching Beth’s handbag for Lou’s contact details. She was taking no chances.
H’s seduction of Beth was slow and purposeful. Sitting on the side of the bath she started to soap Beth’s body, hardly believing the surge of excitement the contact generated.
‘You must tell me what you enjoy, darling.’ H urged.
‘Hyacinth, I don’t . . . ‘Beth faltered. ‘I don’t know about . . .’
‘I know. I know. You’re not sure about making love with another woman.’ H’s hand moved lower, playing with Beth’s pubic curls. ‘I’m so glad you don’t shave darling.’
Beth wanted to vomit.
‘Don’t worry my precious. I am an excellent teacher. I can take you to heights you never imagined.’
No, you can’t. I’ve already been there. Beth grabbed H’s hands. ‘I can’t do this. I‘m sorry.’
‘It’s only nerves, my little lesbian virgin. Close your eyes — let me lead the way.’ H cooed, her hands breaking free to fondle Beth’s already sore clitoris.
Beth winced. ‘You’re not listening.’
H put Beth’s little outburst down to shyness. Certain she was doing the right thing she climbed into the bath behind her, sinking gracefully into the warm scented water. Immediately she started to push her pelvis into Beth’s lower back. No re-action. What was wrong with the girl? She wasn’t responding at all. And what was worse, she couldn’t get into her mind. Beth seemed to be blocking all access. Physical and telepathic.
Beth almost screamed in frustration. This wasn’t right. She wanted this over with. But realized that there was only one way out, and that was via orgasm. Her orgasm.
‘There’s no need to be shy with me, Beth.’ H encouraged. ‘Pretend I’m your gynaecologist giving you an examination.’ Her attempted joke fell flat.
Deciding actions spoke louder than words she thrust her pelvis into Beth even harder, moving rhythmically against her. ‘Beth. Move with me. I’m getting off on this.’
Beth realized that was her way out. Pretending to be enjoying their lovemaking now, she tilted her head back allowing H to kiss her neck.
That was all H needed. Both of her hands went underwater to work on Beth’s orgasm.
‘It’s okay for you to touch me.’ H invited. ‘Put your hands behind your back. You’ll be able to reach me.’
Beth ignored the invitation.
It didn’t matter. H was hot, totally turned on. ‘We can . . . climax together . . . darling.’ H gasped. Her orgasm starting to build. ‘Together Beth . . . NOW!’ H thrust hard arching her back almost lifting Beth out of the water. ‘Oooohhh . . .’
Beth’s body rested rag-doll like in Hyacinth’s arms, but H failed to notice. She was too involved in her own orgasm.
‘What did I tell you, darling — wonderful, wasn’t it?’ she gushed while drying herself.
Beth didn’t reply. She lay corpselike in the near cold water, her eyes tight shut, wishing she was a thousand miles away.
‘I know how awkward first times can be, darling.’ H pulled on one of the hotel’s thick white robes. ‘Next time will be better. I promise.’ She ignored Beth’s lack of enthusiasm.
It hadn’t been awkward with Lou. Everything had been perfect.
‘Hurry up. Come to bed. If you’re a good girl, we can do it again.’ H said confidently.
I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.
Chapter 20
Beth couldn’t get Lou out of her mind. Like a seed, once planted her feelings started to grow as thoughts of Lou dominated her. She knew they had made a tremendous connection, not just on a physical level but also a spiritual one too. She needed to know how Lou felt. But was she being silly? Unsophisticated? She didn’t think so. As soon as she arrived home she looked in her bag for Lou’s number. It wasn’t there.
Frantically she tipped everything out, scattering the entire contents over the living room floor. She knew exactly where she had put it. Sickened, it dawned on her that H must have searched her bag and destroyed it.
‘How dare she?’ Beth shouted into her handbag as she pulled it inside out tearing the lining. ‘The bitch. The fucking bitch. Just wait till I see her!’ Fury flooded Beth. ‘Now I’ll have to wait for Lou to contact me.’ She flung her handbag onto the floor.
Marching over to her drinks cabinet, she splashed whisky into a crystal tumbler. Snatching up the glass she went to stare into the large mirror above the fireplace. Her anger was so great that she could see nothing but blackness. And Hyacinth’s face. In her head she could hear Hyacinth’s voice. ‘I will make you want only me.’
Beth spun round, violently shaking her head, spilling the whisky on the carpet. Her room was as it should be. She turned back. The mirror now reflected her, and her surroundings. She was suddenly deathly tired and took sanctuary in her bed. She stayed there all day, only getting up to visit the bathroom. She felt ill. On Tuesday she rang into work pleading sickness, then unplugged the phone and switched off her mobile. She needed isolation, to be able to go within herself and look for answers.
On Wednesday morning Beth was working alongside George Dickinson.
‘Feeling better today, Beth?’ George enquired pleasantly while they prepared to scrub up.
‘Yes. Thank you for asking. It was nothing really, but I could not risk coming into work.’
‘Understood.’ George moved the taps into the on position with his elbows and began to scrub under the running water. ‘How did you enjoy your weekend away with my wife?’
Suddenly there was a silence. Everyone’s ears pricked, waiting for Beth’s answer.
Beth smiled thinly, ‘We had a pleasant enough time.’
She dried her hands, tossed the towel into the bin, then held her hands up for the nurse to help with her surgical gloves.
All the while George whistled tunelessly. Then he stopped, glanced over his shoulder, his hands still under the running water, and said, ‘I haven’t seen her since she got back. She went straight to Carlisle. Has she been in touch with you?’
Beth pretended not to hear.
She walked off pushing the operating theatre doors open with her hip.
* * * * * * * *
Hyacinth showed the last patient out of her Carlisle office. It had been almost three weeks since she had seen Beth. She had struggled with her decision not to make contact, but Constance had proved an obliging diversion and if Penny didn’t heed her warning, Constance would take over from her as a willing Number One.
She felt slightly guilty at the beating she had given Penny, but she’d ensured that there wasn’t a bruise visible. And Penny had needed to be taught a lesson; no-one, but no-one, questioned Hyacinth’s authority.
Her severe chastisement of Penny was a direct result of the pressure The Syndicate was putting her under, and nothing to do with sharing Beth. If she allowed herself to dwell on the situation, she would fold. For the first time in her life she was frightened, and it took a lot to frighten Hyacinth. The Syndicate took no prisoners, and she was faced with a life or death situation. She had to make a decision, and stand by it.
On her return from London she’d gone straight to Carlisle only stopping by her Jesmond home long enough to collect some clothes.
Daphne had brought her up to date with events at the unit. They were winding up their conversation when the reception buzzer sounded. It was late and the other staff had long since left, so Daphne went to attend to the unexpected caller.
It was a warm summer night. Carlisle was basking in unusually high temperatures. H reached into the little fridge she kept in her office, lifted out a handful of ice cubes, tossed them into a tall glass then mixed herself a large gin and tonic. She was putting the bottle of gin back into the fridge when Daphne returned.
Closing the door behind her Daphne said, ‘There’s a woman to see you H. She won’t give her name. Said it was personal. But it’s late. Shall I show her in, or send her away? She said it’s urgent.’
‘It always is.’
‘This woman doesn’t look like she needs our help. She’s not pregnant.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I asked her. She’s extremely smart. Designer. And she’s French,’ Daphne hesitated, ‘or possibly Italian. She has that look, you know, that Italian style thing.’
‘Interesting. You’d better show her in.’
‘Do you want me to wait?’
‘No. It’ll be something, and nothing. Probably some do-gooder after a donation. You get yourself off.’
H put her glass out of sight behind a vase of pink carnations as Daphne ushered the visitor into the room.
Stepping forward to greet an absolute stunner dressed in a superbly cut pinstriped business suit, with hair so black it reflected a blue sheen, H held out her hand in greeting. ‘Hyacinth Dickinson. How can I help you?’
‘May I sit?’ her voice was warm, seductive.
‘Yes. Of course.’ H inclined her head towards two big black leather chairs. ‘Please make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you a drink? Coffee? Perhaps something stronger?’
‘I’ll have what you’re having.’ She said pleasantly. She sat down, and relaxed confidently into the chair.
H went to the coffee pot that was always at the ready and poured two cups of espresso. Then carried them carefully across to the low marble table and set them down. This is no ordinary visitor. Stay calm, stay calm, she told herself, ‘Now. What can I do for you?’
‘You can stop your little game.’
‘My little game? Who are you? H demanded.
‘My name is not important.’ The visitor paused to sip her coffee, raising the cup slowly to her lips, her eyes never leaving H’s face. ‘My message, on the other hand, is of vital importance to you.’
H lifted herself out of the chair. ‘I don’t think I have any business with you. Close the door on your way out.’
‘I have brought you a message from the top.’ The visitor stayed put.
Standing tall, H pointed to the door, ‘Get out. I detest time-wasters.’
‘Listen very carefully Mrs. Dickinson — or should I call you H? You are causing Don Roberto much concern with your diamond business.’ The Italian woman crossed her legs. She wasn’t going anywhere.
H sat down, her mouth dry. The woman had gained her full attention.
‘That’s better. Well, Mrs. Dickinson, it seems you are to be congratulated on your professional, and successful, diamond enterprise. But your web has spread a little too far.’ She drummed her long slender fingers lightly on the arm of the leather chair. ‘The Don wishes to take control of the business for you.’
‘And if I don’t wish to amalgamate?’
‘Amalgamate? No. You misunderstand. There will be no amalgamation.’ She paused, drained her cup, and continued. ‘The Syndicate will absorb your operation, giving you time to spend with your women. It seems your coven number one is getting above herself. The Don suggests you take time to sort her out. Let me give you a friendly warning Hyacinth,’ she leant forward and spoke softly, ‘keep your precious girls safe. From where I’m sitting you would be wise to accept his offer.’
‘And if I don’t?’ H lit a cigarette, and took a long pull.
‘You have two choices. Accept the offer . . . or close down your operation.’ Her words hung in the air.
‘What if I have no wish to do either?’ H asked quietly.
‘That is a question that you would not want to know the answer to.’
H felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She wanted to slap this self-assured woman senseless, to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, to break every bone in her body. Instead she took a deep breath, ‘I need to think about it.’ She stubbed out her cigarette.
‘You have some time to consider your options. As I said, Don Roberto is a generous man, and would not expect an immediate reply.’ She got up to leave, offering her hand to Hyacinth.
H’s hands stayed firmly by her side.
She watched her visitor walk towards the door. She paused to look back over her shoulder at Hyacinth. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
Then she was gone leaving the scent of Valentino lingering in the air.
Retrieving her gin and tonic from behind the carnations, H stared into it. Where the hell do I go from here? She almost drained the glass, and then lit a cigarette. She needed to think. One thing was certain; no-one must know the true identity of her caller. As far as Daphne was concerned she would tell her the visitor was a representative from a charity.
* * * * * * * *
Three weeks had gone by and The Syndicate had not been back in touch with her. She found that unnerving. Was it a good sign, or a bad one? Either way she had made her decision. And it was totally her decision. This was not something she could discuss with anyone. Unwittingly, she had taken her women into a dangerous situation. There was only one way out, and that was to close down the operation. Luckily the girls would not miss the money. All she had to do was wait for Miss Italy to make contact. After that she could go about making a new life for herself. A life that included Beth.
H stared moodily out of the window absently chewing the end of a pen. The day had been slow. Perhaps the number of unmarried mothers was on the decline. If the staff attended to any casual callers, she had time to ring her girls before she left to drive home to Jesmond. After all, she had promised Beth a get-together with her special friends and what better time than this with George going away for the entire weekend. It didn’t matter that she had not seen him or been home for weeks. She had needed to maintain a low profile, but suddenly the urge to do something different took her over.
She would hold a swim party with some interesting games and the girls could stay over. She would invite Beth. It was time to break the silence.
She started summoning the members of her inner coven, insisting she wanted everyone present by eight on Friday evening with the usual regalia ready for the full moon at midnight. The choice of partner was theirs. She loved the full moon rituals, the sharing, giving and receiving, the wild, abandoned sex that followed. Finally, her blood racing, s
he rang Beth to extend her personal invitation. Furious to hear the busy signal she crashed the telephone down into its cradle.
There was a timid knock on her office door. H cursed under her breath. She would have to try Beth’s number again later. She rapidly composed herself, smiling as her senior nurse entered the room.
Beth hurried to answer her phone.
‘Remember me?’ a haunting voice asked.
‘Of course I remember you! How could I forget?’ Beth whimpered embarrassingly, so excited she nearly wet her knickers. Thank you, God. She could feel happiness shining in her eyes, as the past three weeks silence faded away. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m in Yorkshire. I wondered if you would like to meet up somewhere for a romantic night or two?’
‘When and where?’ Beth’s hand covered her mouth as her conscience questioned the speed of her answer.
‘I know a quiet country hotel, discreet with five-star service. It’s about half way between us.’
Lou gave directions; Beth wrote them in her diary. Two pm Friday. Yes, yes, yes! She dropped her pen on the table then turned the radio up to full volume and danced around the room.
The phone rang again. Beth ran across the living room and grabbed the receiver only to be stopped in her tracks.
‘Hello, darling. Have you been avoiding me?’ H said.
Beth’s excitement waned.
‘We need to catch up, darling. I’m having a swim party this weekend. Of course you’ll know George’s going to be away at a conference. I was just saying to the girls — a couple of them are here now enjoying the pool with me — that it seems a perfect opportunity for us all to get together. What do you say? Be here for six on Friday evening?’
Thinking on her feet Beth lied, gushing, ‘Oh H. Thank you so much for the invite. How very kind of you. I’m so sorry, but I can’t make it. You know that I’d love to, but I need to go home. There’s some family business I have to attend to that simply can’t wait.’
H was gutted, ‘Well never mind, darling. There’ll be other times. Oh, and by the way. I’ve decided to decline the position at St. Gregory’s. Too much to do at the clinic, I’m afraid. Call me. Bye darling.’