‘Have you enjoyed the party?’ she asked him.
His arm tightened around her waist and he pressed his lips close to her ear. ‘I’d have preferred to see more of you. Maybe we can do something about that,’ he said. ‘Come out with me again soon.’
She felt her heart quicken. ‘All right. When?’
‘I’ll ring you.’ He squeezed her tightly. ‘I have to go now. Come out to the car with me and say goodnight.’
At the gate, under the shadow of the laurel hedge, he kissed her till she felt her spine turn to jelly. Then he climbed into Julian’s Mini and waved her goodnight.
Her feet hardly touching the ground, she walked indoors. In the hall Cathy and Gerald were about to leave. Cathy reached out and put her arms round Rosalind, giving her a hug.
‘Happy New Year, Rosalind,’ she said, her face radiant. ‘Thanks for inviting us to the party. We’ve had a super time.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And guess what? Gerald and I are bringing the wedding date forward. We’re getting married very soon. I’ll make sure you get an invitation.’
Rosalind said goodnight, shook hands with Gerald, then climbed the stairs. It had been a night to remember after all.
*
It was two-thirty when Una finally joined Don in their bedroom. From the warmth and comfort of the bed he watched her climb out of the splendid red and black evening dress and peel off her black lace bra and panties. Now that he was used to her uninhibited behaviour he had to admit that she really did have a beautiful body. Being on the plump side made her even more voluptuous in his eyes. She looked a lot like the photograph of his mother taken soon after he had been born. Soft and bounteous. He felt excitement mounting.
‘You’re looking very lovely tonight, Una,’ he said huskily as she climbed into bed beside him. He had noticed that she was wearing the sexy black nightgown she had bought for their honeymoon.
‘Am I?’ Una snuggled down gratefully in the warmth. ‘I think the party was a success. Don’t you?’
‘I do. You’re the perfect hostess,’ he told her. ‘Harry Black, the firm’s accountant, told me so more than once.’ As she switched off the bedside lamp Una grimaced. Harry Black, that common little man? What a nerve he had! When he’d danced with her he’d surreptitiously squeezed her bottom. What did he know about anything? Aloud she said, ‘Really? How gratifying.’ As she felt Don’s hands begin to fondle her she gritted her teeth. ‘Don — you know the bungalow we’ve been thinking about?’
His heart sank. ‘Yes,’ he said guardedly.
‘Well, I’ve been thinking. Maybe you’re right. After the space we’ve been used to here, it might feel claustrophobic. So I was wondering if you’d mind if I used a little of the money we would have spent on an investment instead?’ The feel of her warm soft body so close to his was arousing him so much he hardly heard or cared what she was saying.
‘Investment? That sounds much more sensible, dear,’ he murmured as he pushed her shoulder straps down and began to slide the nightdress over her breasts. ‘But tell me about it tomorrow, eh?’ His breath was rapid and moist in her ear as he moved over her and muttered urgently, ‘I know it’s late dear — and you must be tired — but, oh, Una … ’ Resigned, she wriggled out of the nightdress and lay back, preparing herself for the passion to come, consoling herself with the knowledge that if Don was running true to form it would be mercifully short-lived. The really worthwhile things in life were sometimes almost too expensive, she reflected wryly, gazing glassily up at the ceiling.
Chapter Twelve
Gerald found the block of flats without difficulty and took the lift to the top floor. Kay took so long to answer his ring at the bell that he began to think she was out. He was just turning away when she opened the door. She wore a bathrobe and her hair was swathed, turban fashion in a towel.
‘Gerald! What a surprise. Come in.’ She looked taken aback. ‘I’m sorry I was so long. I was in the shower.’
He stood in the spacious hallway while she closed the door. It was certainly a lavish flat. She hadn’t exaggerated about that. She turned to him, her face now composed into a smile.
‘So — what can I do for you?’
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t guessed why I’m here?’
She took in his grim expression and smiled ruefully. ‘You’re annoyed.’
‘That would be putting it mildly. Why Kay? Why did you do it?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m not sure that there was a reason. Why should there be?’ She walked through an open door into an exquisitely furnished sitting room. Picking up a silver cigarette box from the glass-topped coffee table she offered it to him. He ignored it.
‘You came to the flat and quizzed Cathy — my fiancee. Then, after she’d naively confided in you, you ran straight to the press. Why did you do it Kay?’
She turned to him defiantly. ‘Why not? You’ve always gone all out for publicity.’ She looked at him for a moment, registering the determined set of his jaw. ‘All right then, if you’re set on having a reason I suppose you could say that your fiancée, as you so quaintly call her, was so naive that I just couldn’t resist it.’
‘You really are a bitch, aren’t you? Have you no sense of decency at all?’
‘Decency?’ She lit her cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘Do you call marrying a kid less than half your age decent? I call it disgusting. It’s almost like child molesting.’
‘Cathy isn’t a child.’
‘No? You led me to believe she was though, didn’t you? You gave the impression that she was in infant school.’
‘I did nothing of the kind.’
‘It was what you implied, Gerry. It was what you meant me to believe. Don’t deny it.’
He fought to control the rage that bubbled up inside him. ‘Why the hell should I want you to believe anything? It’s none of your damned business. Why are you so vindictive, Kay? What is it festering away in that devious mind of yours that makes you want to hurt and destroy?’
Her eyes flashed as she viciously stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my mind — or my body, Gerald,’ she said. ‘You’re the one who’s hurting — you’re the one who’s sick. I knew that in New York. Now I’m sure.’
‘Once and for all, I am not sick!’
‘Really?’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘Your fiancée seems to think you are. Something muscular, she said. Whatever it is must be bad to make you start behaving so irrationally.’
Suddenly he felt unutterably weary. Sinking down into one of the white leather chairs he said, ‘You hurt all the wrong people — people you don’t even know, who don’t deserve it. You can do what you like to me, I don’t matter any more, but Cathy and her family…’
‘You do matter, Gerry!’ She crossed the room and sank to her knees in front of him. ‘You matter to me. I did it to try and bring you to your senses — make you face up to the sheer stupidity of what you’re doing. Why are you throwing yourself and your talent away like this? First you tell me you’re about to retire and bury yourself in some frightful dump at the back of beyond, then I hear — second hand — that you’re ill and that you’re marrying this — this child. How do you think it made me feel?’
‘Spiteful, apparently.’
‘No!’ She reached for his hands. ‘I really didn’t want to hurt you — or anyone else. If I did, then I’m sorry.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘Tell me, what’s it all about? Tell me why you’re doing it. Make me understand — if you can!’
He sighed. ‘It’s simple. I love her.’
She laughed. ‘You fancy her, you mean. Face it, Gerry, she’s every middle-aged man’s fantasy with her auburn hair and great big innocent eyes; just as you are every young girl’s fairytale dream. The handsome concert pianist with the romantic mystery illness! Get her out of your system, yes. But marriage!’ Kay looked into his eyes. ‘How long do you think it’ll last? How long before the novelty wears off for you both?’
‘Maybe it won’t
have to last.’
She frowned. ‘What do you mean? What are you saying, Gerry?’
‘Nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows how long any marriage will last?’
‘I think ours would have lasted,’ she said quietly.
He leaned forward and gripped the hands that lay in his. ‘You believe that, do you? Well, just tell me this, Kay, would you have given up this marvellous new job of yours with Summit Films? Your fabulous salary and all your hard-won independence? Would you have given up this flat and come with me to live at the back of beyond, as you call it?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. And as for living with a man with what you call a mystery illness … ’ He smiled wryly. ‘It just isn’t you, Kay. You’re hardly the Florence Nightingale type. Why not admit it?’
‘Are you saying that you would have asked me if I had been?’
‘Who knows?’
‘You didn’t even give me the chance, did you? Yet you believe that this girl is all of those things — unselfish, caring, ready to give up everything for you, the man she loves?’
‘I happen to believe she is, yes.’
‘And you think it’s fair to expect it of her?’
He stopped short, his eyes suddenly hard as he stared at her. ‘What would you know about fairness, Kay?’
She rose and stood looking down at him. ‘I know you, Gerry. I know and understand you through and through; better than you know yourself probably. I spent a long time building a public image for you. You get to know a person pretty well in the process of doing that. And there’s something here that just doesn’t fit. What I don’t get is why you have to bury yourself in the country.’
‘I’ve changed. I want different things now. My values have altered.’
‘We could have stayed here, you and I.’ She swept an arm round the room. ‘You could have taught here just as well as in the country. There’s plenty of room for your piano and I’d be out of your way all day. She leaned towards him, looking into his eyes. ‘I could have been a good wife to you without giving anything up. I’m not as selfish as you make me sound, Gerry. I’d have looked after you. And if it’s money that’s worrying you it needn’t have been a problem. I earn enough for both of us.’
‘Money is the last of my worries!’ he snapped irritably, shaking off the hands that held his. ‘Anyway, do you really think I’d ever allow you to keep me, Kay? God forbid! You’re not the only one to need independence. At best you’d have swallowed me whole. At worst you’d have grown bored.’
‘That’s not true!' She swung away from him and went to the window, hiding the quick tears and the hurt his remark had inflicted. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively. ‘You must have known damned well I’d come back if you’d asked me. I would even now.’
He stood up. ‘No, Kay.’
‘Yes!' She swung round to face him. ‘You and I are two of a kind. We complement each other perfectly and you know it.’ She went to him and put her arms around him. ‘You still want me if you’re honest. You want me now. Don’t deny it.’
It was true. He couldn’t deny that he still found her desirable, seeing her here like this, her face clean of make-up, glowing from the shower. He visualised her skin, damp and fragrant under the bathrobe, and longed for the warm, silken feel of it under his hands; the comfort of her familiar body in his arms. He felt too tired; too weak to argue. She’d always been stronger than him, always able to impose her will on his and bring him into line. It had scared him sometimes in the past. It was one of the main reasons he’d broken with her. And it still worked, even now.
Reaching up suddenly she drew his head down and kissed him hard, her lips parting invitingly, her mouth tender and passionate at the same time. For a moment he resisted, then he pulled the towel from her hair and tangled his fingers in the damp tresses. Holding her face tightly between his hands, he kissed her fiercely, almost brutally.
‘Damn you, Kay,’ he murmured. ‘Damn you to hell!’ But in spite of his outward anger he couldn’t deny that giving in to what he had been fighting ever since she opened the door to him gave him a soaring sense of release.
She rubbed her cheek against his. ‘Come and dry my hair for me like you used to do.’ Taking his hand she began to pull him gently towards the bedroom. He went with her willingly.
*
When he awakened the room was dark. Raising himself on one elbow he stared down bemusedly at her. ‘Have I been asleep?’
‘Yes.’ She sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. ‘We have to talk, Gerry. What is really wrong with you?’
‘Nothing’s wrong’ He ran a hand through his tousled hair as the memory of his humiliating failure came back to him. ‘I was tired, that’s all. Maybe I felt a little guilty and inhibited too. I’m sorry if I disappointed you, but I did warn you, Kay. I love Cathy.’
She reached out for a cigarette. ‘In my experience most men are completely amoral when it comes to sex,’ she said bitterly. ‘They take what’s on offer. In love or out of it.’
‘Don’t tar us all with the same brush. I’m not like that.’
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t want to make love to me! You’d been wanting to from the moment you walked in the door.’
Stung by her uncanny insight he hit back. ‘Perhaps your technique is beginning to slip, Kay. Sex appeal doesn’t last for ever, you know!’
The barb found its mark and she winced. ‘Thanks!’ Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she pulled on her bathrobe, tying the belt tightly. ‘What do you think your sweet little fiancée would think if I told her what just happened — or rather didn’t happen?’ she asked, looking down at him.
‘She wouldn’t believe you.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh, I see. It’s like that, is it? A case of try before you buy!’ She frowned. ‘Well, maybe you should warn her. Ask yourself seriously, are you really being fair to her — a naive young girl, with God knows what ideals and expectations? She’ll be going into this marriage with stars in her eyes, expecting all sorts of things that you can’t or won’t want to give her. Don’t you think she should be warned?’
He sprang up and grasped her by the shoulders, his eyes burning as they bored into hers. ‘You keep away from Cathy, do you hear? Make any more trouble for me and I’ll …’
‘You’ll what, Gerry?’ Her eyes held his with a bold challenge he couldn’t meet. She pushed him away. ‘Oh, relax. I won’t make trouble. It might sound phoney but I really do care too much to do that. I am warning you though. Marry that girl and you’ll both regret it. Hire a housekeeper, a nurse, a whore if you like. But if you really love the girl as much as you say, don’t marry her. If you do you’ll ruin her life.’
Chapter Thirteen
The first days of 1963 at Chestnut Grove were difficult for Cathy. Unable to handle the situation downstairs, she stayed in her room for much of the time, but at mealtimes when the family were gathered round the table, the air was thick with an atmosphere of disapproval. Mrs Bains wore an expression of self-righteous satisfaction. She ate in a meaningful silence broken only by the reproachful clicking of her dentures. I told you it would all end in tears, was etched in every line of her face. Matthew looked acutely uncomfortable and avoided Cathy’s eyes, while Johnny picked at her food, looking downright miserable. Conversation was limited to hopeful comments about the weather from Matthew, and grudging requests to pass the salt.
Finally unable to tolerate the cloud of gloom that had settled over her home a moment longer, Johnny decided that something must be done to put things on a more amicable footing. It seemed that Cathy’s proposed marriage to Gerald Cavelle would go ahead whether she approved or not and she could see that if she was not to lose Cathy altogether some kind of compromise must be reached.
One afternoon, just before the new college term began, she made up her mind and as soon as Mrs Bains had nodded off in the armchair for her afternoon snooze she went upstairs and tapped gently on Cathy’s door.
‘Cathy
, can I come in?’
Cathy raised her head from the book she was reading. Johnny’s voice was soft but there was a positive tone about it that she recognised of old. It meant that she had no intention of taking no for an answer. Instinctively she drew herself up straight and replied, ‘Of course. The door’s not locked.’
Johnny stepped inside and closed the door firmly behind her. For a moment the two surveyed each other across the room. For the first time in their long relationship, Johnny felt frighteningly helpless. Cathy was a woman now and out of her control. Was it possible to mend the rift that had opened between them? Was there anything she could do to prevent her from diving headlong into what she saw as an inevitable disaster? She must at least try. She cleared her throat. ‘This can’t go on, Cathy,’ she said. ‘I can’t take any more of this terrible atmosphere. And frankly I don’t see why I should.’
Cathy hung her head, feeling six years old again. ‘I know. And I’m sorry. But it really isn’t my fault.’ She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘I — Gerald and I had planned to tell you about our engagement on my birthday, but the papers got hold of the story before we had the chance.’
‘It was the way you lied to me. You’ve never been deceitful before. I can’t help thinking … ’ Johnny broke off, biting her lip. She hadn’t meant to begin by reproaching the girl. It was all coming out wrong.
But Cathy was nodding. ‘I know. And I hated deceiving you. But I knew you’d take it badly, and I was right, wasn’t I? Look — if you’d rather I left … ’
‘Left?’ Shocked at the idea, Johnny crossed the room and sat down beside her on the bed. ‘This is your home, child. At least, for now. Anyway, where would you go?’
Cathy shrugged. ‘To Gerald’s flat, I suppose.’
‘You’d go there and live with him?’ Johnny could hardly believe she was hearing right. ‘He’d let you do that?’
The Lost Daughters: A moving saga of womanhood Page 22