by Nesta Tuomey
‘Is that what he said?’ Dave whooped joyously. ‘Indeed, Florrie, you’d better watch out or he’ll be back over for you next time.’
The thought of big slow Sergeant Kelly was too hilarious to bear and it was a while before any of them were sober enough to resume attack on the toast. Kay couldn’t help wondering if Captain Pender would find it as rib-tickling as they did, and tried to imagine her mature, handsome pilot seated with them, enjoying the joke. Perhaps when they became more used to one another, they would experience silly innocent moments like these. But would they ever come to that stage? Her face clouded over. It didn’t seem likely. Not with Graham’s wife always somewhere in the offing.
She glanced up to find Dave’s grey eyes fixed on her, a puzzling expression in them.
‘Walk me to the gate,’ he suggested.
She nodded, her mind still busy with thoughts of Graham and the whole confusing tangle of their relationship.
‘Nice to see you laughing again,’ Dave remarked when they were outside in the crisp night air.
Kay stared, not having realised that her depression was so evident. ‘Well if I seem gloomy,’ she retorted, ‘it’s because I’m exhausted. We were really run off our feel all summer... and then Boeing training on top of everything.’
Dave nodded. ‘Yes, you do look tired.’
Kay raised her head haughtily, stung by the implication that she did not look her best. At the same time she was filled with dread. What had prompted that remark? Perhaps she was already showing signs of the thing she so greatly feared.
‘For God’s sake Dave, anyone would look tired after the summer we’ve put in,’ she said irritably.
‘Yes, of course,’ he calmly agreed, gazing down at her. ‘The life of an air hostess isn’t all beer and skittles as that poor epileptic would be the first to admit.’
In spite of herself, Kay had to laugh.
‘You should mind yourself better, Kay,’ he told her, ‘You don’t want to wear yourself out.’
His words brought tears to her eyes. His tweed sleeve felt rough against her face as she laid her head against him and cried quietly.
‘What is it, Katie?’ he asked gently. ‘Is there anything I can do?’ In her weakness, she seemed to him a lovable, tired child in desperate need of comfort.
‘I’m just tired I suppose,’ Kay admitted weakly. ‘Just so ti...ired.’ To her surprise he bent his head and kissed her gently.
She stared up at him but his face was shadowed.
‘That’s the trouble with standing under these trees, I can’t see your expression,’ she complained, as if life along with all its other tribulations had conspired once more to frustrate her.
‘Well that can easily be remedied,’ he drawled, drawing her into the light. ‘Now everyone can see us.’
‘Who’s everyone?’ he teased. ‘Sergeant Kelly? You don’t suppose he’ll come over and arrest us for being out without a light.’
‘For being randy without a licence,’ Kay offered with a giggle.
For randy was definitely how she was feeling. Inwardly, with sinking heart, she acknowledged the sudden mood swing. It was surely another side effect of the dread condition.
. She was appalled at her brazenness in no longer feeling guiltily ashamed - her state of mind for every waking moment since she had lost her virginity - but there was an almost hysterical relief in the lessening of tension it had brought about. How wicked she was, Kay thought. A veritable scarlet woman.
‘Come back under the trees,’ she coaxed, tugging at Dave’s sleeve, suddenly desperately needing him to make love to her. Only by so doing could the other raw memory be made bearable.
‘What an improper suggestion.’ He made no move to comply, just stood there watching her with a slightly hooded expression.
Kay shrugged. ‘Oh well, if you don’t want to...’
At once he took her into the shadowy undergrowth and positioned her against the bole of the silver birch. His lips came down firmly on hers in the leafy darkness and she felt him grow hard against her as their bodies strained together. Unlike Graham, there was no adoring sweet talk from Dave, no tender aspirations but it was like a benediction the way he enfolded her against him and there was healing in the sweet lingering kiss he gave her. Then abruptly he stepped back and puller her over to the light and sanity again.
‘Go to bed, Katie,’ he ordered, his voice friendly, making no claims.
Kitty, Katie, she thought as she stumbled up the path. To her surprise she was aware of no disloyalty to Captain Pender at having embraced Dave so passionately. It was out of her great need of her pilot that her body had grown weak, she reasoned. It could never have happened otherwise. Yet she was unable to forget Dave’s kiss, which had thrilled and consoled her.
THIRTY EIGHT
Three weeks later in Spain, Kay was enjoying life every bit as much as she had hoped. ‘Wouldn’t it be a laugh if we all married Spaniards and settled here to live,’ Sally said one night, as they lay on the beds in their Spanish apartment eating peaches and sipping wine from clouded tumblers.
Florrie was out with her Marylander - an American engineering student she had met at a disco - and there was just the three of them sharing the feast.
Bunny tucked a pillow under her head and stretched out more comfortably. ‘Speak for yourself,’ she giggled sleepily. Although like the others she had a Spanish admirer, she had given up going out at night feeling it wrong to be enjoying herself with Teddy away in the Lebanon, suffering and perhaps in danger.
‘Just as well or you might be had up for baby-snatching,’ Sally teased. Pepe was barely twenty. As usual, Bunny was going for the young ones. ‘Very funny!’ Bunny yawned.
Sally winked at Kay. ‘Eulogio has a young cousin,’ she said thoughtfully, as she topped their wine. ‘Though he might be a bit too old for Bunny. He was nineteen last birthday.’
‘Oh put a sock in it, Sally.’ Bunny feebly hurled a sandal at her. ‘Just because you and Kay are out of your minds, don’t think everyone else is.’
Sally laughed. Since their arrival in Spain, Eulogio had been giving her a big rush and that afternoon she had amazed them all by telling them he was taking her to see his mother. When she had returned later from visiting Dona Sanchez Blanco, she was in a state of euphoria, her meeting with her prospective mother-in-law obviously an unqualified success.
Kay grinned, aware that her own holiday romance with Carlos, who owned a bar in the underground arcade near the disco, could not be classed in the same league. Still she was thoroughly enjoying his attentions and though in no danger of forgetting Graham Pender, was amazed at how fond she had become of the attractive mature Spaniard.
Was it his maturity that had drawn her to him in the first place, she lazily wondered. He couldn’t be more than a year or two younger than Graham. Sally was convinced he was married but Kay didn’t very much care. She wasn’t planning on settling in Spain, she told herself, as she listened in amusement to Sally romantically describing the kind of married lives they could expect to enjoy with their two Spaniards.
‘Wouldn’t it be fabulous if we were living just down the street from each other,’ Sally laughed huskily. ‘Gosh Kay,’ she said in awe. ‘Did we ever think when we met at the hostess interviews that we’d end up so romantically here in Spain.’
Kay nodded enthusiastically but there was a sober look in her green eyes. So many amazing things had happened that she would not have believed possible only a year ago. She shuddered remembering her almost suicidal feelings on coming away at the start of the holidays. She had been convinced her life was in ruins.
Thank goodness that particular worry had soon been lifted. In the tiny shower room after their arrival, Kay had received a welcome sign that all would be well. Totally unprepared, having gloomily expected the worst, she had to feign annoyance as she shouted to the others, ‘Oh hell, I’ve got the Curse. Anyone brought stuff with them?’ as if it wasn’t the most wonderful thing that had happen
ed to her.
Thank heavens for a second chance. In the days that followed, Kay felt as if the slate had been miraculously wiped clean. She was able to put the whole upset behind her and begin enjoying the holiday at last. Carlos was a wonderful distraction and thoroughly good for her morale, which was in sad need of boosting after Captain Pender’s cavalier treatment of her.
Before coming away Kay had written to him care of the pilots’ quarters, telling him of the change in holiday plans and giving her new return date. After some thought she had decided not to mention her awful worry. The least said on paper the better.
Afterwards, she was very glad. She had determinedly set about getting the most out of the holiday and soon found her spirits beginning to lift and her body relax and renew itself in the lazy fun filled days that followed. And nights, Kay reminded herself with a smile, thinking of Carlos and herself dancing until the small hours to the pulsating rhythm of ‘La Bamba’ and ‘Quando Caliente El Sol.’
‘Eulogio wants me to come back again after Christmas,’ Sally was saying, as she twisted the little gold ring he had given her round and round on her finger.
All week she had been laughingly calling it her engagement ring. She was only wearing it two days when she quarrelled badly with her Spanish boyfriend and hot-temperedly threw it back at him. But the following day, all was forgiven and they had made it up.
‘I was thinking of doing a course at the Berlitz language school,’ Sally went on. ‘My Spanish is hopeless.’
Kay supposed if Sally were really serious about marrying Eulogio it was the sensible thing to do. And it looked as if she were. Her friend’s romance had blossomed so quickly, Kay thought. She wondered how she would feel in Sally’s place, about to leave family and friends and settle in a country like Spain with all the attendant taboos and ancient customs of a patriarchal society.
It wouldn’t be easy, that was for sure. But perhaps harder for Sally, than most, who was so outgoing and independent. Not for a minute could Kay see her friend putting up with chauvinist treatment. But then Eulogio was far too nice a guy to treat her like that and he was obviously crazy about her.
Kay considered that the Spaniard was much more suited to her friend than her previous boyfriend. She rejoiced that Sally seemed well and truly over him. Since he had exited from her life, she was back to being the old Sally again. Catching her eye, Kay grinned over at her.
‘Why don’t you apply for leave too and come back with me,’ Sally said persuasively. ‘We could get a smaller apartment and just think of all the fun we’d have.’
Kay nodded dreamily beginning to feel the effects of the wine on top of all the drinks she had taken earlier in Carlos’s bar. What would Molly say if she were to come home engaged to a Spaniard, she wondered and felt a pang of guilt as she remembered the letter which arrived that afternoon from Dave telling her of Molly’s latest accident.
Carlos was with her having coffee when the Conserja brought it up. Sometimes he visited in the afternoon before going down to open the bar. Kay had slipped the letter into her pocket intending to read it later but Carlos, jealously convinced it was from her lover, insisted on her opening it there and then.
‘All I want to see is the ending... nada mas,’ he bargained with her. In vain Kay protested, ‘Es de un amigo. No es de un novio,’
But the Spaniard threw up his hands demanding aggressively, ‘Why you refuse to allow me this small thing?’.
In the end she had given him the letter, feeling she could do nothing else without offending him. Even as she did, she wondered why she was making such a fuss. There could be nothing in it after all.
But after one look Carlos had slapped the sheets back in her hand crying out in dismal triumph. ‘Claro! Es un novio. Como he creido. No me has dicho la verdad.’
Ignoring her protests, he had stalked from the apartment leaving Kay to hurry after him, wondering how she had not told him the truth. When he refused to be won round, she had slipped her arm in his and whispered coaxingly, ‘Te quiero,’ at which his face brightened at once and he pulled her into his arms. She was ashamed at using so facile a way of allaying his suspicions but there seemed no other way of winning him back.
Once he was gone she ran upstairs to read Dave’s letter and learned that her aunt was in hospital with a broken collarbone.
‘My dear Kay,’ Dave had written. ‘Don’t be alarmed at hearing from me but your aunt had a fall the other night - isn’t she a terror! She has been rather confused these past weeks and mistook night for day. (She must have been more than a little confused, Kay thought). She was taken to hospital and is recovering well, though of course at her age falls are never a good thing. Anyway, I’ll keep an eye on her but you should consider coming back. By now you have had a few weeks in the sun and should be feeling more rested. (She acknowledged the dig with a wry shrug). I think she’s missing you and besides, there has been a deterioration in her health these last weeks, not entirely due to the accident.
How is the holiday going? I suppose the pair of you are leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake, if I know yourself and Florrie. Give her my best wishes, Mucho amor, Dave.’
At the Spanish farewell Kay had shrugged. Sounded good, she thought, but meant nothing. Typical Dave! No wonder Carlos had been jealous. If he only realised he had no need to be.
Her face clouded. This second fall of Molly’s sounded serious. Perhaps Dave was right and she should go back. The slightly censorious tone of his letter had stung her. He was just being an alarmist, she decided. Obviously, he considered she was selfishly staying away and neglecting her aunt. That was all there was to it.
When Kay had gone down with the others to Carlos’s bar for their usual nightcap, the Spaniard had been more than usually attentive. Hearing about Sally’s visit to Dona Sanchez Blanco he glowed with felicitations for the lovers and remarked often, ‘Ayee! Que suerto tiene Eulogio... what good fortune Eulogio has,’ obviously rejoicing in the hope that where one ‘fair Irlandesa’ had been successfully wooed and won, another might be persuaded to follow her friend to the Spanish altar.
The provocative letter arriving that afternoon and Kay’s own shy avowal of love had inflamed the Spaniard’s passion and it steadily mounted as the evening advanced. Hers too, Kay ruefully remembered, fuelled as much by his romantic serenades, as all the potent fruity cocktails he delighted in mixing for her.
When Sally and Florrie left for the disco, a group of Carlos’s friends arrived and sang a collection of wild Spanish folk songs, their mournful outpourings tearing like fishhooks into Kay’s emotions, already unbalanced by Carlos and Spain. Between everything she was thoroughly aroused and when Carlos locked the door behind the last customer, she came readily into his arms and hotly returned his kisses.
She reflected on the wisdom of allowing herself to remain on alone with Carlos behind a locked door and wonder how it was she had escaped without him taking advantage of her. But at the time she was hungry for lovemaking and wanted to feel his hands on her body and lips against hers. Besides she had instinctively taken a chance on him and her trust was not misplaced.
She was aware of his hands squeezing and pressing, eagerly unbuttoning her blouse. She felt excited wanting more but was afraid too.
. ‘Stop it, Carlos, please,’ she had said, as she tried to push him away, caution reasserting itself.
But he seemed to have three pairs of hands, all of them at once stroking and pinching. ‘Basta!’ she cried in desperation, the only word she knew to convey her meaning, though it was Italian.
To her relief he stopped at once.
‘Querida, te quiero mucho,’ he told her, a plaintive, long drawn out note to his voice, as if the whole process of loving her was one of unutterable torture. He took her neck strongly in his hands and pressed fervent kisses on her trembling mouth. Then, keeping one hand on her neck, dropped the other to fumble at his crotch.
‘Eh?’ he queried, catching hold of her hand and thrusting it downwa
rd in the gloom.
Kay’s first reaction had been to pull away as her fingers came in contact with an unmistakable fleshy object. Warm and aggressively stout, it seemed to overflow the small cave in which it was housed. When Carlos nudged her reluctant fingers to the tip, she felt the plushy softness in wonder. At once it brought to mind the downy back of a baby’s head or the soft inner side of her own thighs, but softer yet. Not even Graham had been like this, came the unbidden thought.
‘Eh,’ Carlos’s voice held a contented, cooing note as he watched her face in the near darkness, gauging her reaction, sure of her approbation when she didn’t pull away.
‘Very nice,’ Kay said idiotically and quickly withdrew her hand. He seemed satisfied with her answer and with a pleased grunt returned his member to its cavern.
Quickly, she tidied her clothing.
‘Carlos! I want to go. Now!’ she ordered, making her voice cross, feeling as if she had taken part in some ancient sexual rite.
‘Mi bella Irlandesa,’ he murmured caressingly. ‘El amor de mi vida.’
Then with a pleased chuckle, he immediately ushered her towards the door.
That Carlos could move her like he did confused and bewildered Kay, as did her reaction to Dave the night before coming away. Wasn’t she still crazy about Graham, she had asked herself, as the Spaniard walked her back to her apartment. Yes, oh yes, she silently assured herself. Yet, if she were being honest, she had to admit that her heart contained something similar for Carlos and so strong a something that it made her respond wantonly to his lovemaking. She felt totally confused, her emotions in turmoil.
Kay had always believed herself to be the kind of girl who had to deeply love a man before being interested in his body and she was utterly shocked by her shallow behaviour. But she was a passionate, sensual girl and it was all part of her maturing process, another step on the way to distinguishing between romantic love and the more physical passion between the sexes.
