Cassie accepted her own drink and sat back in her seat, laughing at herself for being a fool. Simon had no need to even look at another woman, had he? Not when their sex life was so good, so completely satisfying. In fact they had had very few differences, really, in all the three years of their marriage. Small things, of course, at the beginning, when they'd been getting used to living together, to being a couple instead of individuals. But nothing major. Nothing till now, that was. She sighed and Simon turned to look at her. 'Tired?'
'No, not really. Will we be staying at the house you told me about, the site director's house?'
'No, at a hotel. The house won't be available until the other man moves out at the end of the mouth. But I've arranged for you to look it over.'
For a second Cassie was tempted to say again that it was all a waste of time, but reiterating the obvious wasn't going to help; it would only put Simon's back up and make the weekend even more unpleasant than
it was already. She tried to think of something else to talk about, but couldn't, so took a long sip of her drink. After a moment Simon turned away and resumed his reading.
They spent that night at a hotel in Glasgow, leaving there immediately after breakfast the next morning to be taken by helicopter to the site at Kinray. It was the first time Cassie had ever flown in a helicopter and she felt more than a little nervous. It seemed so much more unwieldy than a plane, and the engine was so noisy that she wanted to put her hands over her ears, but they were already occupied in tightly gripping the arms of her seat.
`The helicopter is a godsend to the oil industry,' Simon remarked as the machine started to rise. 'They're used continuously, especially ferrying men and equipment to the oil rigs out in the sea. Rather like a bus service, really, only far more reliable and efficient than London Transport, of course.'
His hand came down to cover hers, warm and comforting, while he went on talking, gently reassuring her by his choice of words, letting her know that he knew she was afraid, but that the flight was a safe, everyday occurrence.
`Look out of the window,' he went on. 'When you're only this high everything looks as if it's on a model scale, as if you're a giant with the whole earth to play with.'
Reluctantly Cassie turned her head to look out of the window and, after the first hesitant glance, immediately became fascinated as she saw the airport reduced to toy size below them. But everything was in such perfect detail: the planes waiting to take off, little vans being driven up to unload them, tiny men in white overalls hurrying along like ants on an anthill. This was, she supposed, what the term `bird's eye view' was all about.
They were in the air for almost half an hour, flying to the north-west across Scotland's riveted valleys and deep green, rolling hills,. most of them still capped by snow, until they were suddenly at the coast with the surging grey sea below them.
'There's the site.'
Simon pointed over to the right and for a moment Cassie thought it was a large seaside town they were approaching, but then she saw the massive round oil storage tanks, some already built, others in the process of construction and the other mass of building work, the whole covering a huge area of land.
'Fly us round the site before you land, will you?' Simon instructed the pilot, who nodded and banked the helicopter into a steep turn that took them round the perimeter of the massive site. 'Down there, out to sea, you can see where the jetties for loading and un- loading oil tankers are being built,' Simon told her. 'There will be three initially, with a fourth being built later. We expect to have up to twenty crude oil-carrying tankers a week when the terminal is fully operational, and also a smaller number of gas carriers.'
He pointed again as the helicopter turned away from the sea. 'That building there is the terminal's own power station which is essential to give us the power to run the separation plant.' He saw her blank look and added, 'Coming ashore in the crude oil will be a mixture of hydrocarbon liquids, dissolved gases, and some water, so we have to separate the gas and water from the oil to yield products that can safely be transported.'
He went on to point out other aspects of the site, but Cassie listened with only half an ear. Her mind was taking in this new aspect of her husband; a man who was an expert in his job and who had been offered the control of this whole huge operation that lay spread below her like some huge-scale map. She also noticed how he used the possessive pronoun when talking about it, and realised that he was already deeply involved in the project, even if not yet part of it. The helicopter finished its circle of the site and flew on for about a mile towards a group of buildings that this time did turn out to be a small town with its own airport.
'This is Kinray village,' Simon told her. 'The construction company we took over from built it to house all the workers on the site before they started the terminal. They finished it some time ago and it's already settled down into being a community-as much as a place can be, that is, when most of its inhabitants are constantly changing.'
The helicopter settled down gently on the landing pad, the rotor blades coming to a halt as the engine was switched off. Cassie found the ensuing silence an almost physical release. Some steps were wheeled up to the door and Simon took her hand as she climbed rather stiffly down.
'Good morning, Mrs. Ventris-or may I call you Cassie? Remember me, I'm Patrick Bright, the Financial Director of Mullaine's.'
'Yes, of course. How are you, Mr Bright?' 'Oh, please, call me Patrick.'
He took her arm, a short amiable-looking man of about forty-five whose keen financial brain was belied by his appearance. Cassie had met him only a few times before at various official functions and was rather overwhelmed that this member of Mullaine's hierarchy was making such a fuss of her. He led her to a car, sat down beside her and insisted on spreading a rug over her knees.
'It's just a short drive to the hotel, won't take more than a few minutes,' he told her as Simon got in at her other side.
It was, as he'd said, a short drive, and he kept talking the whole time so that Cassie had to give him her attention and she had little opportunity to notice her surroundings, but she did catch fleeting glimpses of the 'village', and she got the impression of raw newness, of grey prefabricated buildings thrown up in haste, with no sort of architectural embellishments, just large barrack-like blocks adapted for different uses; a parade of shops, a post office, a garage, and several that were obviously hostels for the single men who numbered the greater part of the large work force. The hotel was a little better; some thought had been given to its design and it resembled some of the more modern London hotels, all tinted glass and variegated concrete, which was supposed to give it individuality.
A rush of cold air whipped round her as she got out of the car, but there was hardly time for it to penetrate her fur jacket before Patrick Bright had hurried her into the centrally-heated warmth of the hotel. This, at first, was comfortingly warm, but then began to feel rather oppressive so that she soon slipped off her jacket as the hotel manager himself came forward to greet them and then led them into a lounge where Patrick Bright ordered coffee.
'Thought you might like a hot drink before you go up to your room. Don't worry about your suitcase, the porter will have taken it up.'
The coffee came almost at once, as if the order had been anticipated, the waiter and the hotel manager fussing around them to make sure they had everything they wanted.
'Of course, you've got to remember,' Patrick was saying, 'that Kinray is very much a new town. And unfortunately most of the accommodation buildings had already been put up when we took over, so we had no say in their design, and,' he leaned forward confidentially, 'quite frankly, Cassie, they're extremely ugly. But now that we've taken over we hope to improve matters and we've already started building a new sports complex to take the place of the inadequate facilities they had before. The new complex is going to have indoor tennis and squash courts, an ice hockey stadium, a bowling alley, as well as an Olympic-sized swimming pool. You name it, we've go
t it,' he added, with some pride.
'It all sounds wonderful,' Cassie said politely, because he obviously expected her to make some such comment. 'For people who are interested in sport, that is. I-'
'Oh, we haven't forgotten the arts and sciences either,' the older man told her. 'We have two large cinemas, a theatre where good touring companies can put on their shows, musical as well as theatrical. Then, of course, there's an extremely good library, one of the best for a place this size that there is in Scotland.'
'Well, I expect there's plenty of time to read; the nights in winter are extremely long, aren't they?' She spoke civilly enough, but there was an edge to her voice that Simon picked up at once. He had been sitting silently, letting Patrick Bright take over the conversation, but now he glanced quickly at her and realised from the set look on her face that she was becoming annoyed by the hard sell she was being given. He went to say something, but before he could do so Patrick Bright said over-heartily, `But we have an extremely active social life here-lots of parties, a bridge club and a drama group, that kind of thing. More organisations than you have the time to go to. My wife always has a very enjoyable time whenever she comes up here.'
`Yes, but then she doesn't have to live here, does she?'
He got it then, realised that he was overdoing it, and immediately stood up, glancing at his watch. `Well, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment shortly. And I expect you'd like to get settled into your room. But I hope you'll join me here in the restaurant for lunch at one, and then we've arranged for you to have a tour round Kinray.'
He took his leave and Cassie and Simon immediately went up to their room. Cassie was silent as they went up in the lift with the porter who was showing them the way, waiting until he'd shown them into the room. Only it wasn't just a room, it was a suite, with a large sitting-room as well as a luxurious bathroom and a beautifully furnished bedroom with twin beds under gold-coloured counterpanes. On a side table there was a complimentary bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, together with a large box of chocolates, a packet of Scottish shortbread and a basket of fruit. There were flowers, too, in both the sitting-room and the bedroom.
Ordinarily to stay in such luxury would have thrilled and excited Cassie, but right then it only added to her anger, to the feeling that she was being wooed into accepting something she didn't want. So as soon as the porter had gone she turned on Simon angrily. 'If you think I'm going to. . '
But he stopped her by the simple expedient of coming up to her and kissing her hard on the mouth. For a moment she tried to resist him, but he put a hand on the back of her head, pressing her against him, and after a few minutes she reluctantly opened her mouth and was instantly lost to everything else.
When eventually he let her go she stood still in his arms, her body quivering. Slowly she lifted her head to look at him.
`That wasn't fair!'
He grinned. 'No, it wasn't, was it? But at least it gave me the chance to get a word in before you erupted.'
Cassie stiffened. 'I had a perfect right to be angry.' 'I know. I quite agree.'
'You do?' She looked at him in some astonishment.
'Yes. Poor old Patrick overdid it, I'm afraid. But you'll have to forgive him; he really is enthusiastic about this project and wants it to be carried out as quickly and efficiently as possible. And if having me in charge of construction is going to help, then he'll do everything in his power to help bring that about.'
'Including giving your less than enthusiastic wife the hard sell,' Lassie said accusingly.
Simon shrugged. 'To him it isn't a hard sell. He genuinely believes that we're creating something worthwhile here, a place that provides every need of the workers and mores place where even a London businesswoman would find enough entertainment and not be bored.'
Cassie stepped back out of his arms and glared up at him. 'If that's supposed to mean that I'm too snobbish or stubborn to accept what there is here, then you're wrong. I'm quite capable of filling my time and entertaining myself, if necessary.'
His eyebrows rising quizzically, Simon said, `But even so, you're still quite convinced that you'd be bored here, aren't you?'
'Yes.' Cassie turned away and took a few paces round the room, then turned to him, her hands opening to- wards him in a pleading gesture as she tried to make him understand. 'Because what's offered here is only entertainment, a means of passing the time. Oh, perhaps pleasantly enough, if you really let yourself get involved. But that's all it is. There's no creative stimulus, no challenge. Nothing to make you go to bed feeling satisfied and fulfilled by the work you've done during the day. Nothing to make you look forward to tomorrow. Even if I filled every minute of my days here, I'd still only feel that I was marking time, just filling in the hours of waiting until I could get back to London and start living again.'
She came to an abrupt stop, her face flushed, her green eyes gazing earnestly up into his. After a moment, she added, 'You do understand, don't you?'
Simon laughed mirthlessly. 'Oh, yes, I understand all right. Though it's not easy for a man to accept that he takes second place to his wife's work!'
Cassie stared up at him in consternation. 'But that isn't what I meant at all. That doesn't come into it.'
'Doesn't it? I seem to remember you saying, before we were married, that you loved me so much that you'd follow me anywhere I went. But it seems that that only applies so long as it's in the environs of London,' he added with bitter irony.
Green eyes flashing, Cassie said heatedly, 'Oh, for heaven's sake stop it! You're taking this personally, when there's nothing personal about it. If you'd been offered a post in some other city where I could have got a similar job I would have gone with you willingly. And if you want to quote what we said in the past, wasn't it you who said that all you wanted in the world was to make me happy? Well, I wouldn't be happy here.' She shook her head helplessly. 'I've tried to explain to you how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but that's the way it is.'
She gazed at Simon, half unhappy, half defiant, waiting for him to speak. For a long moment he stood, hands shoved in his pockets, looking at her broodingly, then he sighed, came over to her and pulled her to him, her head on his shoulder. Ruefully he said, 'You're right, neither of us can help it. We're both products of our age. You fighting for equality, and me agreeing in principle that you should have it, but the first time our paths diverge expecting you to conform to the traditional feminine image-and give up everything for me.' He gave a wry grin. 'Selfish, aren't we?”
Cassie smiled back up at him, relief in her face. 'A typical male chauvinist pig.'
He laughed and kissed her nose. 'We'd better unpack or we'll be late for lunch.'
'Do you still want me to go on the tour this afternoon?'
'I think you owe that much to Mullaine's if not to me.'
Simon spoke lightly, but those last four words made Cassie realise that no matter how much he pretended otherwise, he still saw her defiance on a personal level, still brought the issue down to the basis of she either loved him enough to give everything up for him or she didn't. Really, to Simon, it was as simple as that.
Opening the suitcase, Cassie took out her make-up bag and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She turned on the tap but didn't immediately begin to wash, just stood and stared at herself in the mirror. Why did life have to be so complicated? You were going along happily with everything fine and even getting better, and then, suddenly-wham!-life hit you in the face and knocked you down again. And it was all because of Simon's stubbornness. He must have known, even before he'd asked her, that she would never consent. Slipping off her sweater, she began to wash and then re-do her make-up, taking her time about it, for the first time since she'd known him feeling so angry with her husband that she wished he'd just go away and leave her alone.
Lunch wasn't an easy meal, nor the tour after it, but Patrick Bright had obviously realised his mistake and managed to keep down his salesman's patter, while Simon-
bearing in mind the temper that went with her tawny hair and green eyes-had advised her to play it cool. `After all, Patrick is my boss,' he reminded her. So somehow they got through the afternoon with Cassie obediently inspecting every amenity including even the half-finished sports complex and making suitable remarks whenever she could think of them.
Actually, if anything, she was rather impressed with all the facilities available for the construction workers, and to a lesser extent, for the small percentage of people who lived permanently in Kinray. Permanently in most cases, of course, being for the two to three years it would take to build the terminal. Then the number of workers would gradually decrease until their places were taken by the maintenance and specialist people who would man and operate the oil terminal and its jetties when these were fully functional. Just a very small number in comparison to the thousands who were here now. Yes, the facilities were ideal for men who had done a hard day's physical work and just wanted to sit back and be amused, but there was nothing here that could attract Cassie, nothing that wouldn't make each day spent here a small, individual hell of boredom and frustration.
Dinner that night was easier, because three other couples had been invited together with Patrick Bright's secretary to keep the numbers even. They ate in a private room in the hotel, the food was good, there was plenty of wine and the atmosphere soon became relaxed and congenial, so that it was gone midnight before they went up to their room. Cassie flopped down in an armchair and kicked off her shoes, more than a little inebriated. Rifling through the box of chocolates, she found one with a nut centre and put it in her mouth.
'Mm, I could get used to this kind of treatment,' she told Simon mumblingly.
'Didn't your mother ever teach you not to speak with your mouth full?' he demanded with a mock frown.
Cassie wrinkled her nose at him, but swallowed the sweet. 'Do you stay at this hotel every time you come up here?'
Sally Wentworth Page 5