Consequences

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Consequences Page 26

by Nancy Carson


  Because her husband’s lengthy absences ensured she was generally available, Benjamin was loath to leave her unattended for more than a week at a time, fearing she would be too easily enticed by others. He knew what men were like. Clearly, she enjoyed the adulation she received, but he suspected she also revelled in the opportunities for extramarital frolics that accompanied it; and even Benjamin was not so naïve as to believe he was the only man she had slept with either before or since her marriage, although he actually believed he could change her.

  He clung to a dream – an impossible dream; the dream of actually landing her entirely, and installing her at a freshly refurbished and restored Holly Hall House. Once Aurelia was gone, once Maude Atkins was gone, he would invite Kate to stay. He would make sure she was sufficiently impressed with him, his sexual prowess and everything that was his, no matter what the cost. If he could persuade her to try for an annulment of her marriage, or even get a divorce, she would be free to marry him. Marriage would secure her, because he would never leave her side, never allow her the opportunity to wander at leisure through life’s extramarital sidetracks. And spending the rest of his life making ardent love to Kate Stokes was the fuel that drove him. Never would he tire of her beautiful face, of ravishing her delectable body and savouring her delicious antics between the sheets night and morning. This woman possessed him, body and soul. Her exquisite sexuality had warped his senses.

  The first half of the show seemed eternal. Come the interval, he ambled morosely to the bar and ordered a drink. Supping it as he stood alone, he lit a cigarette and watched the interactions of others, how couples seemed so easy with each other; he envied them. Every male he saw, whether alone or in a group, he imagined to be one of Kate’s lovers, and he was wildly suspicious of each and every one. What if she had been to bed with this man…What if that one…?

  The bell rang, requiring everybody to return to their seats. Benjamin emptied his glass, stubbed out his cigarette and left the bar. In his misery, the second half also seemed to go on interminably, but still he could not keep his eyes off Kate whenever she appeared.

  When at last the show finished, he loitered, waiting for the auditorium to empty, then made his way backstage surreptitiously, intending to reach the green room. As before, scantily clad females were whizzing through the corridors, darting into dressing rooms, but he saw no sign of Kate. As before, the scent and sight of so many fascinating females was manifest, but he was oblivious to it all. There remained only one showgirl of interest.

  He reached the green room unchallenged and opened the door tentatively, peeping round it. His heart thumped when he witnessed Kate in the arms of another man; young, tall, expensively, fashionably dressed. For a second – it seemed like an age – he was frozen to the spot. In that second he was torn. Should he intervene, or should he not? What if he did, like the jealous lover that he was, and the tall, expensively, fashionably dressed young man turned out to be her husband after all, who had a perfect right to be caressing his lovely wife? Unseen and in a mire of doubt he pulled the door to, silently, and crept away, still unchallenged, back to the auditorium.

  But he had to know.

  He had to know whether this man was indeed her husband, or some other rival. Kate was in the habit of leaving the theatre by way of the auditorium, therefore, she would get back onto the street through the main entrance. He would wait and watch…and follow.

  He seemed to be waiting an eternity. The hoard of theatregoers had dispersed by this time, but a few hansom cabs loitered, still anticipating late pickups of cast members and other random fares. Kate and her tall, expensively, fashionably dressed companion eventually emerged. At once the companion raised his cane and a cab drew up within seconds. As the couple clambered into it, Benjamin stepped from the shadows and he too hailed the next cab in line. He requested the driver to follow, but at a discreet distance.

  Eventually, after driving through streets he had no hope of recognising, Benjamin’s cab pulled up and the driver stepped down from his perch. He tapped on the window and opened the door. ‘That cab’s stopped about a hundred yards away, and a young couple have got out.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Benjamin replied. ‘I’ll get out here as well.’ He stepped down. ‘What’s this area called?’

  ‘Kensington, sir.’

  ‘Kensington, eh? Thank you. How much do I owe you?’

  ‘A bob, sir.’

  Benjamin felt in his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. By the light of the gas street lamps he picked out one and threepence. ‘Keep the change.’

  The driver tipped his hat. ‘Gawd bless you, sir,’ and with a knowing look, added, ‘and the best o’ luck.’

  Benjamin loitered in the shadows, watching, waiting for both cabs to turn around. While the horses clipped-clopped into the distance to the low rumble of wheels, an icy drizzle was falling from an inky, moonless sky. He huddled in his overcoat, instinctively pulled his hat forward so that the lowered brim would hide his face. When the couple had disappeared into a house that he did not recognise, he ambled in its direction but crossed to the opposite side of the street. This was an affluent area of London if the smart houses with their pristine railings were anything to go by. A distant church clock struck midnight, and a cat trotted nonchalantly from one side of the street to the other as it went about its business. Benjamin stood motionless, looking up at this strange porticoed house across the road that now held Kate in its bosom. An electric light instantly shone in the hallway, visible through the fanlight. He waited, longing for a cigarette, but loath to allow its glow to give him away.

  What in heaven’s name was he doing here anyway? He could do nothing. He could hardly hammer the door down and create a scene. Kate would disown him, swear she had never seen him before, declare that he must be a burglar or some other kind of fiend, and have him arrested. He was powerless. Whatever was going on in that house, this was clearly not the first time. He began to realise the foolishness, the utter futility of having followed her, when really he would prefer not to know what she was up to, or with whom. Yet he stood there motionless, like a statue on a plinth, watching, waiting for some sign that would confirm what he already did not wish to know.

  Suddenly, the rain started to pour and for shelter he stepped under the portico of a house. In the house that he was watching he saw an upstairs light go on. The shadow of a woman was visible on the drapes, a poorly defined silhouette. Yet the stance of the subject was identifiable, then that of a man joining her. She seemed to turn her back to him, bend her head, and the man seemed to be attending to whatever it was she was wearing. She turned, her arms went around his neck and they kissed.

  At this point he heard footsteps approaching. Two bobbies were coming towards him. Time he left. He’d seen enough. Sickened, he began walking in the same direction as the policemen, but strode out to put more distance between him and them.

  He turned a corner, then another, then another, hoping to return full circle to this road where the cab driver had dropped him off. He ought to get another cab and return to the Savoy, to the dry and the warmth of the American Bar where he could drown his sorrows. Who knows, if he had a drink or two he might even be able to sleep.

  One thing seemed certain even now, though; that man with Kate was not her husband. If it had been, they would surely have gone to their house in Belgravia, or perhaps even to a club. It rankled that she had failed to let him know she had other plans, when he had made it plain by letter, in ample time, that he wished to spend the weekend with her in London.

  So how should he react now he possessed this crushing knowledge? Should he react at all? Should he write again and tell her that he knew of her latest indiscretion? On second thoughts, no, definitely not. When he ultimately forgave her – and forgive her he surely must, for he craved her more than he had ever craved any other woman – she would perceive him as weak. Maybe he should simply appear less bothered, be nonchalant. He would make no more plans for a while to be in Lond
on. If she received no letter from him, maybe she would begin to wonder why, which might arouse her interest in him a little more. After all, no woman likes to be ignored, especially when she believes she has enthralled a man; nothing is more likely to rouse a woman into some sort of reaction.

  * * *

  Maude Atkins had a pleasant surprise when Benjamin called, carrying an overnight bag, on the Saturday afternoon. His contacts in London had been called away urgently on other business, he said, and rather than return to Holly Hall House and his soon to be vanquished wife, he was glad of the opportunity to spend the time with her. Besides – and this he did not tell Maude – his loins needed some stimulating exercise, and what better way of getting even with Kate (in his own mind) than by indulging in the sensual pleasures on offer from the parallel person in his life, for whom he still felt some attachment.

  ‘So you’re going to stay the night?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answered.

  ‘Then I’ll need to get something for your dinner, and for your breakfast in the morning.’

  ‘Haven’t you already got something?’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you, Benjamin. I can hardly cater for you if I’m not expecting you, can I? But I’ll need some money.’

  He felt in a trouser pocket and pulled out some coins. Women, he reminded himself, were always asking for money or demanding it in other ways. ‘Here’s a sovereign.’ He held it out to her.

  ‘Do you have a half sovereign as well – just in case? Oh, I see you’ve got one there.’

  He rolled his eyes, but without rancour, and gave her the half sovereign too. ‘You see, Maude, I’m not ungenerous.’

  ‘Thank you, Benjamin. Tell me what you fancy and I’ll run down to the butcher’s and the greengrocer’s.’

  ‘Surprise me,’ he said. ‘On second thoughts, if the butcher’s got some liver faggots…Haven’t had liver faggots in an age. Oh, and bring me a packet of cigarettes.’

  She reached behind the cellar door and grabbed her coat. ‘Keep your eye on Louise for me. I’ll only be gone ten minutes.’

  He said he would. The child, named after Princess Louise, daughter of the Queen, was sitting in a cardboard box, large enough to accommodate her and prevent her from crawling away. She was happily playing with a half-dozen clothes pegs.

  ‘You can lift her out and give her a hug. She won’t bite.’

  ‘I will when you’ve gone.’

  Benjamin felt no great affinity with this baby girl, his illegitimate daughter, however. She was an encumbrance, a further expense. He had some responsibility for her but, in the long term, would she count for much? The child was the result of his lust for Maude, a consequence they might have anticipated, but an inconvenient consequence for all that.

  He spoke to Louise, quietly, and smiled, because he felt he ought. She looked up at him without returning the smile and began gnawing the end of one of her clothes pegs. Then, she turned her attention back to the collection of clothes pegs and decided to ignore him. He was relieved. Young children were hard work. Just so long as she did not begin wailing.

  How would Maude cope with this child and his son Benjie? In order to ensure he won custody he had declared his intention to marry the woman. At the time, it was a reasonable statement of his intentions, even though he dreamed it up on the spur of the moment. Besides, he had not yet been stricken with the sickness for Kate Stokes. Now he was unsure how marriage would come to pass, for he did not wish it to come to pass, at least not marriage to Maude. Nothing was further from his mind, since the woman he really wanted, the elusive, enigmatic Kate Stokes, was miles away in London. He was beginning to feel trapped in this familiar, unorthodox, but safe relationship with Maude, for it was becoming monotonous.

  Then another thought struck him: instead of marrying Maude, why not simply install her at Holly Hall House, and restore her to her former position as the child’s nanny. She could still be his mistress when it suited him. It would be a situation for her, but she would have to come to realise that marriage was not necessarily part of the arrangement, that she was simply an employee – privileged to be his mistress. Such a move would also eliminate another drain on his pocket, because he would not have to pay rent for this mouse hole in which she was currently installed. Furthermore, she would have to realise that he might, at some time, meet somebody else and wish to marry that person. Such a situation would have to be on that understanding. Meanwhile, it boosted his ego to have two mistresses – providing Kate remained one of them.

  * * *

  Chapter 24

  Maude, of course, had read the newspaper reports about Benjamin’s divorce proceedings, and had noted his openly declared intention to marry her. Thus she felt as though she were already engaged, but without a ring to show for it. So far, she was not pressing for either an engagement ring or a wedding ring. She was being patient, satisfied that it would happen all in good time. After all, Benjamin had set out his stall to the judge in the divorce hearing. A gentle reminder in the form of some indirect hints would not come amiss, though – especially as little Benjie was to be in her charge.

  She was content that over the last month Benjamin had not found it necessary to visit London on another of his business trips. It meant him spending more time with her and his daughter, and this he seemed keener to do.

  After work one evening in March, he called round, she cooked a meal for him, and they went to bed, early as usual, for some mutual comfort. He would not stay the night, though. He seldom did. It was hardly fair on his horse to leave it standing outside in the street all night harnessed to his gig, he said, when the local ragamuffins – of which there were plenty around The Inhedge – were ever likely to taunt the poor creature and possibly cause it distress, or to bolt.

  Eventually, sated, he sat up in bed and lit a cigarette. It was time he made a move. Maude remained supine, her tousled hair cascading over her pillow. By the light of the oil lamp that drenched her in a golden glow, her eyes looked soft and dreamy after their lovemaking.

  ‘Are you leaving me so soon?’ she murmured drowsily.

  ‘I have to.’

  ‘But you’ll come tomorrow?’

  He smiled, turning to look at her. ‘I don’t see why I shouldn’t.’

  ‘So when is this chap Voysey going to start on the revamp of your house?’

  He drew on his cigarette, paused, and then exhaled a cloud of smoke. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

  ‘So what’s stopping you?’

  ‘I was considering waiting till she’d gone.’ She being Aurelia. ‘After the decree absolute.’

  ‘Why wait till then?’

  ‘I didn’t realise there was a rush,’ he said bluntly. ‘Anyway, it’s going to cost a mint of money, which I’m in no rush to part with just yet.’

  This was only partially true; the main reason for his procrastination was that there had been no contact with Kate Stokes, and any refurbishment would be part of his plan to lure her. If the affair were dead, as he feared it must be now, there would be no point in excessive spending on such a project, although he acknowledged some work was needed in any event.

  ‘You’re not afraid of inconveniencing Aurelia with lots of workmen, are you?’ Maude asked pointedly.

  He blew out another puff of blue smoke. ‘Why the hell should I worry about inconveniencing her? It’s nothing to do with her. Anyway, she’ll be gone soon enough.’

  ‘Has she said where she’s going yet?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘To anybody else?’

  ‘Who knows? Who cares?’

  ‘It would be nice, though, if it were all finished by the time we get married,’ she ventured. It was time to say that disquieting word, to remind him, for her own peace of mind.

  He looked at her again, secretly amused that she’d spotted an excuse to raise the topic, and baffled that she had not mentioned it before. ‘I see no great rush for us to get married either,’ he proclaimed. ‘But that doesn’t mean you won’t
be able to live at Holly Hall House. As far as anybody else is concerned, you’d be reinstated as nanny to my son – your former position.’

  ‘I’m not just a nanny anymore, Benjamin,’ she protested. ‘I’m mother to your daughter, remember.’

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, I’ll tell you this. If you think I’m going to move into Holly Hall House again without a wedding ring on my finger, you’d better think again.’ She finally stirred, indignant, and sat up to better defend her situation and promote her cause. ‘In any case, you’ll be defying convention good and proper if that’s what you’re proposing. After all that’s happened, Benjamin, after all that’s been in the newspapers, I am not having people regarding me as your live-in mistress. Oh no. Marriage is the only way either of us can reclaim some respectability, some … some social acceptance. As a factory owner, you can’t afford not to…And consider my reputation, if you please. Haven’t I given you my love, my support and my total loyalty, unselfishly? Don’t I deserve to be redeemed from all the impropriety people accuse me of? My mother and father, my whole family, disowned me because of you, and the fact that I had your child didn’t exactly improve things. The only way they would ever accept me again would be for you to marry me – and even then there’s no guarantee they would.’

  He flicked ash into an ashtray that lay on a bedside table beside the oil lamp, and sighed. Maude was so tiresome when she nagged. The trouble was, when she nagged it was generally for a reason, and generally she had a valid point. This was one such occasion, but it was too soon to commit himself to marriage. After all, what if he and Kate…?

  ‘Listen, Maude, the decree absolute is still some months away. We don’t have to make definite plans yet—’

 

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