Sally Wentworth

by Semi-Detached Marriage (lit)

  It was a gesture of defiance; really, but a rather pathetic, empty gesture when she couldn't throw it in Simon's face. And immediately she'd accepted she knew it was wrong. But it was only lunch, she told herself, having lunch with a man was quite acceptable. Everyone did it. In fact everyone seemed to be having affairs nowadays; only this week she'd heard that an old school friend was getting a divorce, of someone else who'd left home to live with a married man. It seemed that marriage was definitely `out' this year. Sexual morals were like fashion, constantly changing, what outraged society one season was perfectly acceptable the next.

  But it wasn't just lunch, of course. Having gained so much, Tom soon got her laughing again and persuaded her to have dinner the next day, and before she knew quite where she was, Cassie was gently coerced into seeing him almost as often as before. But always, as soon as she got home at night, the first thing she would do was to run the tape on the answer-phone hoping for a message from Simon. There were messages in plenty from other people, but from Simon there was nothing. Worry and fear gave way to stubborn anger; if Simon thought he could wear her down so that she would give in, he was wrong. If he didn't love her enough to even phone her, then he could just go to Hell.

  Tom watched her as she went through all the range of emotional feelings, from worried and unhappy, through angry and resentful, and waited until she was defiant again before showing his hand. He had been as attentive as usual during the month that had elapsed since the party, taking her out to meals and the theatre, making her laugh and forget for a blissful few hours the ultimatum hanging over her head. He had been careful not to make any kind of demands on her, until Cassie began to think that she had imagined that brief moment at the party when she thought that he had been going to kiss her.

  But one Friday night, when they had been out to a night-club for a meal and had danced until the small hours, he brought her home and, instead of giving her a light kiss goodnight and leaving her on her doorstep as he usually did, Tom purposefully strode into the flat, shut the door, took her in his arms and kissed her.

  Cassie immediately tried to pull away, but his hand was at the back of her head, holding her still. Her mouth moved under his as she tried to protest, but he took advantage of it to force her lips apart, assaulting her mouth again and again as his kiss became deeper and passion took over.

  Cassie's head swam, for a few moments longer she feebly tried to resist, but it had been so long since she'd been kissed, so long since she'd been loved. Her body ached with need, cried out to be touched, aroused. She gave a low moan and stopped fighting, surrendered her mouth to him. Tom made a small sound of triumph in his throat, his hand tightening in her hair as his mouth ravaged hers. At last he lifted his head, put a hand on either side of her face and gazed down at her, his breathing so unsteady that his body trembled, his eyes naked with desire.

  'Cassie! Oh, honey.'

  Slowly she opened her eyes, came back to reality. Panic filled her and she put up her arms to vainly try and push him away. 'No, Tom, please!'

  But he wouldn't listen, holding her so that she couldn't escape and saying, 'Don't fight me, Cassie. You wanted me to kiss you as much as I did.'

  'No, that isn't true.'

  'Yes, it is. Yes. You've known how I felt about you ever since Simon's birthday party. But you've needed time to get over Simon, I've known that, and I've been willing to wait. But you're ready now, Cassie, ready to accept that he doesn't love you any more.'

  Cassie stared at him in horror, appalled that he could make such sweeping assumptions, and even more that he obviously believed them. She gave an incredulous gasp, but before she could speak he was kissing her again, his lips demanding a response that she had no will-power to resist.

  'Cassie darling,' he murmured against her hair, his voice thick and unsteady, 'I want to love you. Please let me love you.'

  'Oh, Tom!' Her hands crept up round his neck as she looked into his face, then she leant her head on his shoulder and said, 'This is crazy. We both know it is.'

  'Love is crazy. And, boy, am I crazy about you! Ever since the first moment I saw you I've wanted you.'

  His voice went on above her head, saying the kind of things that every woman loves to hear, even though they were from the wrong man. Cassie could hear his heart beating loud beneath her head, his hands gently stroking her shoulders, his lips touching her hair. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the pure sensuality of his embrace, let him go on doing what he wanted, caressing her with his voice, his hands But tlbm bs hand moved down to her breast, like five totes of fire that burned through her skin. She felt a spark of pleasure, then jerked quickly out of his embrace.

  She stood a good yard away, staring at him, her body trembling and her breathing scared, uneven. 'I want you to go. Please, Tom.'

  He grinned, sure of himself, and moved towards her.

  'No, you don't. You…'

  'If you touch me again I'll scream!' Cassie's voice rose and there was an hysterical edge to it that made him stop precipitately.

  Frowning, he said, 'What is this,. honey? Don't say you didn't want me to kiss you.'

  'No, I don't know.' Cassie shook her head in confusion and brought her hands up in front of her defensively. 'Please, Tom, just go!'

  'Go? After this?'

  'Yes.'

  He looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. 'Okay, if that's what you want.'

  Moving towards the front door, he put out a hand to open it, but turned towards her again before he did so. 'Aren't you going to say goodnight?'

  'Goodnight, Tom.'

  'No, like this.' Before she was even aware of what he was going to do, he had taken a swift stride towards her, caught hold of her arm and backed her against the wall. Then he bent his head and kissed her for the third time. He put everything he had into that kiss, and he was very experienced, had been around. Cassie was lost after the first few seconds and emerged with her head in a whirl, her body quivering with awareness.

  'Don't send me away, Cassie. Let me stay. I want you so much, so very much.' His voice was in her ear, soft and persuasive as his lips caressed her neck, her throat, the curve of her chin.

  Her desire to be loved almost overwhelmed her. It would be so easy to yield, to say yes. And what difference would it make, no one would ever know. Simon didn't love her, he'd left her alone. It would serve him right if she gave herself to another man. She'd warned him that she would, hadn't she, and he'd still gone away. Demon reasons rose up to tempt her to say yes, and it would be so nice, so easy. His lips were hot against her skin, his hands firm as they caressed her quivering body.

  But then tears spilled out of her eyes and she began to cry, the sobs catching in her throat. Startled, Tom raised his head, consternation in his blue eyes.

  'Cassie, don't. Honey, please don't cry.' He tried to stroke her shoulders soothingly, but Cassie had her hands up to her face and was crying without restraint. 'Here.' He thrust a large handkerchief into her hand and then took her by the arm and led her back into the sitting-room and helped her sit down on the settee.

  He moved away, but Cassie hardly noticed. Her whole body was racked by sobs as all the pent-up tensions and emotions of the last month broke through at last.

  'Cassie, honey. C'mon, I want you to drink this.' Tom was kneeling on the floor beside the settee, a glass of amber-coloured brandy in his hand.

  At first she shook her head in refusal, but he insisted and it was easier to obey than fight, so she gulped it down, the spirit making her cough, but easing the heartbreaking sobs so that she sat passively, her body quivering as the silent tears ran down her cheeks.

  Tom sat down beside her and took her in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. He stroked her air gently until she'd cried herself out.

  'I'm sorry.' Her voice was muffled against his chest.

  'No, I'm the one that's sorry. I didn't realise how much Simon meant to you.'

  'What do you mean?' Cassie tilted her head to look
at him.

  'I thought you two were more or less through before I came along. That Simon had gone to live in Scotland because you weren't happy together.'

  'No, it was because neither of us wanted to give up our jobs.'

  Tom frowned. 'Are you saying, then, that you've never been unfaithful to Simon? That I'm the first man who's asked you?'

  Cassie sat up straight and wiped her face with his handkerchief. 'If you don't mind, I'd like you to go now. I'm very tired.'

  'Sure.' He stood up and looked down at her where she sat on the settee, head bent, not looking at him. 'Are you sure you'll be okay alone?'

  'Quite sure, thank you.' But there was a break in her voice that she couldn't disguise as another tremor of emotion ran through her body.

  'I'll call you tomorrow.'

  'No, don't bother. I'll be all right. Really.'

  He reached down and gently touched her hair. 'You know, Cassie, when I first met you I thought that you were a typical career girl, tough and self-sufficient, not really needing a man except as an escort and for sex. Then I realised you weren't the type who would have a casual affair, so I played it cool, but I still thought you were strong and independent enough to shrug off a marriage that hadn't worked out.' He paused, then added wonderingly, 'But now I see that I've been wrong about you all along. Underneath that self-confident act you put on you're as soft and fragile as delicate china. I'd no idea just how badly Simon had hurt you.' The pressure of his hand increased for a moment; he said, 'Goodnight, Cassie,' rather abruptly and then turned and let himself out of the flat.

  He came back the following afternoon, ringing the doorbell continuously when she didn't open the door after his first ring. Cassie had slept late after not being able to get to sleep for hours the night before. She had bathed and put on a housecoat, but her face was unmade-up, her hair lying loose on her shoulders. She didn't say anything when she saw who it was, just turned and walked ahead of him into the kitchen.

  'I'm making coffee, would you like a cup?' she asked without looking round.

  'That would be fine.' Tom leaned against the door jamb; it was raining outside and he had on one of those trench-coat type macs that Americans always seemed to wear. He was watching her closely, broodingly almost.

  As she put out another mug, Cassie said stiltedly, 'I'm sorry you were on the receiving end of my crying jag last night.'

  Unexpectedly, Tom answered, 'I'm glad I was. It helped me to see things a whole lot clearer.' He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders, gently but insistently turning her round to face him. Then he kissed her, softly and very tenderly. 'You look so young today, so vulnerable,' he murmured as he lifted his head.

  Cassie bit her lip, started to say determinedly, 'Look, Tom, I…' but just then the kettle boiled and she had au stop and turn it off.

  She carried their coffee mugs into the sitting-room while Tom took off his coat, and she took care to sit in an armchair instead of the settee. Tom sat down and watched her, making no attempt to drink his coffee.

  Cassie lowered her head, unable to meet his eyes. 'Don't look at me like that.'

  'Like what?'

  'As if-oh, you know perfectly well what I mean.'

  'As if I think you're wonderful, d'you mean?'

  Cassie's eyes flew to meet his, then as quickly away again. 'N-no, that isn't what I meant,' she answered unsteadily.

  'But it's true.' He stood up and took the mug from her nerveless fingers, set it on the table so that the steam rose and disappeared into the air. Then he pulled her to her feet and held her arms as he gazed down into her face. 'Don't look so scared.' He bent to kiss her but she turned her head away.

  'Tom, I don't want this. Please stop.'

  'I can't. You see,' he added, 'I've fallen in love with you.,

  Cassie turned to stare at him unbelievingly. 'But- but you can't have!'

  He gave a lopsided grin. 'No two ways about it, honey. I've fallen for you hard. I started off by just wanting you, but now I love you, very much.'

  'No!' She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her.

  'Yes, Cassie. I love you and I want very much to go to bed with youto show you just how much I love you. I need you, honey. And last night proved that you need me.'

  'No,' she repeated, and this time succeeded in pulling herself free. 'Do you know what you're saying?' she demanded agitatedly. 'You're asking me to be unfaithful to Simon!'

  'Yes, I suppose I am.'

  But he didn't seem particularly disturbed, so Cassie added forcefully, 'You're asking me to-to commit adultery!' The word sounded all the more shocking for being said out loud, and they were both a little stunned by it.

  'That's an antiquated way of describing it. Can't you just admit that marrying Simon was a big mistake?'

  'I thought he was supposed to be a friend of yours?' she said accusingly.

  He shrugged. 'All's fair in love and war, Cassie.'

  She began to feel angry and her lip curled scornfully. 'What a useful little saying that is! People always trot it out when they want an excuse for doing something wrong or underhand.'

  Tom's tone hardened. 'Is it underhand to fall in love? Is it wrong to want the fulfilment of that love?'

  Her face paled and she answered in little more than a whisper. 'No. No, it isn't.'

  'And I love you, Cassie. So help me God, I do.'

  He made a move towards her, but she moved away, her eyes wide and troubled in her pale face.

  'It's- it's no use, Tom. I'm sorry, but I can't.' She held up a hand to stop him as he began to speak. 'I know what you're going to say: that if I didn't care for you I wouldn't have responded like I did last night. And it's true, I do care for you.' She looked down at her hands, gripping them together. 'I like you a lot. You've-you've made these last few weeks bearable for me, and I'm very grateful.' She hesitated a moment, then lifted her head and looked at him steadily. `But I'm not going to go to bed with you, Tom. I'm just not the type. I couldn't live with myself afterwards, and I most certainly couldn't go on living with Simon, not live with him and pretend that nothing had happened. And anyway, it wouldn't be fair to anyone. Not to Simon, to me, or most of all you.'

  'Just how do you work that out?'

  'Because you'd never know whether I was doing it because I wanted to, or just because I was lonely and needed someone, or even,' she bit her lip, 'or even just to punish Simon. I wouldn't even know why myself,' she added slowly.

  There was a long pause before Tom said hollowly, 'Yeah, I see what you mean.' He came to her and took hold of her hands, that were still agitatedly entwined, held them firmly in his own. 'Okay, so we'll get married.'

  Cassie stared at him bug-eyed and opened her mouth to protest, but Tom put his hand over it.

  'Don't say anything yet, just think about it. Divorce is easy nowadays and you wouldn't have to do a thing; I'll get my lawyers to arrange it. We could be married within months.'

  Slowly he took his hand away as she continued to stare at him. 'But I-but I don't know that I want to marry you.'

  He grinned suddenly. 'Do you know that you don't?'

  She shook her head, putting her fingers up tiredly to her temples. 'I don't know anything any more.'

  Tom left soon after, left her to sit alone wondering what to do. At times she was angry with Tom for having forced her into this, at other times glad because she knew she had to do something, she couldn't have gone on for much longer as she was. But most of all she hated Simon for ruining her life, for taking away her happiness and security, for even giving another man a chance to come into her life. At eleven o'clock, when it was perfectly obvious, even to the wildest hope, that Simon wasn't going to phone yet again, Cassie picked up a large vase that had been a wedding present from one of his relations, and hurled it against the wall with all her strength, shattering it into a dozen pieces.

  She refused to give Tom an immediate answer, even though he pressed her to. She said that she wanted time to think it over, bu
t perhaps she was subconsciously still hoping that Simon would phone or come home, but conscious hope was nearly dead.

  About that time a new problem arose at work: Mrs. Nichols, the buyer who had been put in temporary charge of the whole fashion department, put her foot down and refused to allow Cassie to make any more changes in her departments until they'd seen the re-suits of the ones she had already made. They had an argument about it and Cassie went over her head to Mr. Jepps, the head buyer, and to her surprise and resentment he backed up Mrs. Nichols. Oh, he was nice about it, and sympathetic up to a point, but insisted that Mrs. Nichols was in charge and that Cassie had to be governed by her decisions.

  Going back to her office, Cassie threw herself down into her chair, thoroughly fed up, all her bright dreams for the new departments disappearing into a haze of red tape and petty officialdom. Moodily she looked at her desk where she had been designing a new carousel type layout for the separates department that would display every colour range for the sweaters and cardigans. Picking up a thick, felt tipped pen, she viciously drew two great lines across the drawing.

  Sue happened to walk into the office at that moment and stared in consternation. `What on earth…?' Cassie stood up decisively and picked up her bag.

  `Come on, Sue, we're going out to lunch.'

  'But it's not even twelve o'clock!'

  'So what? We're going anyway.'

  Instead of going to the staff restaurant, Cassie marched out of the store and down a side street to a pub. She bought them each a drink and then told Sue what had happened. They discussed it at some length, but they both knew that there was nothing they could do.

  'It's just bureaucracy gone mad,' Cassie complained.

  'Just because Mrs. Nichols has been there since the year dot they have to put her in charge. But her ideas are way out of date, Sue, they really are.' She lit another cigarette straight after the last and drew on it gloomily.