by Mary Larkin
Reluctantly he agreed, and fifteen minutes later they left Cockerton and headed over to Albert Hill. She was very quiet and this worried him. Just what was going on in that conniving little mind of hers? he wondered.
He drew the car up in front of her house but made no attempt to get out. She turned in her seat and those big, dark eyes of hers mocked him and the full, sensuous lips pouted seductively at him. With a rueful smile she shook her head. ‘I do believe you’re afraid of me, Donald Murphy. I wonder why? Could it be that you don’t trust yourself?’
‘Good night, Margaret. I’ll see you when I get back.’
‘Ah now, Donald. You’re not getting off as lightly as that.’ A key was thrust at him. ‘Here, open the door while I fetch Angela.’
Before he could object she was out of the car and he had no option but to follow her. Planning to leave the minute she came back with the child, he opened the door and entering the small hall waited there. He had to admit that Margaret had hit the nail on the head. He didn’t trust himself and had no intention of being manoeuvred any further into the house. To his dismay, in spite of his determination, he had to move into the living room to allow a young man who returned with Margaret, carrying a sleeping Angela in his arms, to enter the house. He looked surprised when he saw Donald and acknowledged him with an abrupt nod.
‘In here, Joseph.’
Joseph hesitated. ‘Don’t you want me to carry her upstairs, Margaret? She’s getting quite a weight, you know.’
‘No, in here will be fine, Joseph. Lay her on the settee, please. If need be, Donald can carry her upstairs before he goes.’ She introduced them. ‘Joseph, this is Jack’s friend. Donald, this is my next-door neighbour. He lives in the house you used to rent.’
The men exchanged nods and then Joseph, with a quizzical look at Margaret, took his leave.
‘Sit down, Donald.’
‘I’m afraid I’ll have to be going now, Margaret. I’ve still a lot of packing to do.’
‘Why do I not believe you? In my experience, men just throw their belongings together at the last minute, especially when travelling by car. As a rule they don’t worry about packing the way women do.’
‘I must be the exception to the rule then. Good night, Margaret.’
‘You must hold on for a minute or two, Donald. I can’t leave Angela on her own in case she rolls off the settee. I need to get her nightclothes down.’
It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to carry the child upstairs, but he caught the words back in time. Look where that could lead.
As if she had read his mind Margaret laughed aloud. ‘For heaven’s sake sit down, Donald. I’m not going to eat you! I won’t be a minute.’
He sat on the edge of the settee and watched the sleeping child. With her golden curls and rosy cheeks, she looked a picture. If things had worked out differently that could be his daughter lying there. If they had married as planned, would Margaret still be discontented with her lot? He imagined so. She would always want what she couldn’t have. He’d had a lucky escape.
Was life already laid for you? A matter of whatever will be, will be? Was there someone out there waiting for him? What about Susan Cummings? Who knows? He had questioned Edith about Susan’s marriage. Had tried to find out if she was divorced or in the process of being divorced. Edith had been very evasive and had advised him to speak to Susan about it when he was over there. Well, he’d do that! It would be nice to get married and have children of his own. Perhaps one day he and . . .
His thoughts were interrupted by Margaret returning to the living room. She had changed into a loose garment - Donald wasn’t sure, but he thought it was called a housecoat. It was of fine material and clung to her full breasts. It was obvious that she had nothing on under it. She had also taken time to brush her hair and, although dusk was falling, it still caught the light that filtered through the window and moved like quicksilver around her face and shoulders.
His breath caught in his throat at the beauty of her and as desire made itself felt. He rose quickly to his feet. ‘I’ll have to be going now.’ His voice was shaky and silently he cursed himself. He knew she was aware of his agitation.
‘Bear with me another few minutes, Donald.’
She disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. ‘Remember, I promised to share a drink with you before you left. I wanted Jack to invite you out for a meal with us, but he wouldn’t hear tell of it. I can’t think why. So . . .’ She placed the glasses on a small table and half-filled them with whiskey. ‘I believe in keeping my promises.’ A glass was thrust at him. ‘Safe journey over and back,’ she said softly.
Feeling it would be churlish to refuse, he said ‘Thanks’ and raised the glass to his lips. Darkness was closing in on them and he reached for the light switch.
Quickly setting down her glass, Margaret was there before him, covering the switch with her hand. ‘Don’t, Donald.’ She was so close her breath was fanning his face and her perfume was wafting around him. ‘Don’t fight it! No one will ever know. You want me. I know you do. So why not? Eh, why not? I made a mistake, but there’s no need for us to suffer for ever. We were meant to come together.’ She moved closer and raised her face for his kiss.
Feeling his control slipping, he tried to move away but relentlessly she followed, all the while subtly using her body to excite him. Distracted, he thought: why not indeed? He was a mug trying to resist her. After all, you never missed a slice from a cut loaf. As she frequently pointed out, no one need ever know. Susan’s face rose before his mind, but he ignored it. No promises had been made there. All she had ever offered him was friendship and for all he knew her marriage may have been reconciled. She had never willingly discussed it with him, but she had said there was a man she was in love with. So why was he letting thoughts of her trespass on this passionate moment?
Margaret was in his arms now; warm and willing. Only a fool would push her away. He crushed her close and his lips trailed her face and neck before savagely covering her mouth. Her lips were soft and moist and worked hungrily under his. He opened her housecoat and caressed her full breasts. The child stirred on the settee and settled down again, but he had been distracted. He raised his head to gaze at her in bewilderment. What was he thinking of? Well, that was obvious enough! But why? Why was he coveting his mate’s wife? Jack Devine, God help him, had enough on his plate without him adding to his worries. She pulled his head down towards her and whispered urgently, ‘You can’t stop now, Donald.’
‘I can’t do this to Jack.’
‘Why not? He did it to you.’
‘Two wrongs don’t make a right, Margaret. And who knows? I’m beginning to think he did me a good turn. Besides, I don’t want to join a queue, and that Joseph guy next door seemed to know his way about here earlier on.’
‘Joseph means nothing to me. You must believe that. It’s you I want. I’ve always wanted you.’
Gripping her arms, he put her firmly from him.
‘You fool! You stupid fool!’ she cried. ‘It’s only an act after all. A bit of excitement.’
‘No, Margaret. In most people’s books it’s a betrayal.’
In one last desperate attempt to delay him, opening her housecoat and arms wide she cried, ‘Look! Look what you’re missing.’
A quick glance was all he needed to warn him he must get out of here before it was too late. Roughly pushing past her, he opened the door and hurried to his car. As he eased it away from the kerb, he wasn’t surprised to see Joseph, in the rear mirror, leave his house and approach the one next door. Nor was he surprised to see him being admitted. He smiled wryly. Ah, well . . . that’s the way the cookie crumbles, he thought. Was he a fool to turn down what was being offered on a plate, so to speak?
Pushing all thoughts of his old flame from his mind, he concentrated on the road ahead. At this hour of the morning it was clear. Dawn was breaking, the sun a fiery ball rising behind him and giving a pink bl
ush to fields and hedges as it rose slowly in the sky, like an artist’s brush creating a scene in watercolour. He had never seen anything like it in his life before. He drove through Barnard Castle and over Bowes Moor, before stopping in a lay-by to enjoy all this peaceful beauty. He delayed for twenty minutes looking out over the moors; watching the transformation, with only the wary sheep for company. Then, with a sigh of contentment, he continued over the moors until he reached Penrith, where he left the scenic route for the more mundane motorway towards Carlisle, one of the signs he had been told to watch out for. Half an hour later he passed Carlisle and was crossing the invisible border into Scotland.
Soon he came upon a road sign pointing off the dual carriageway, indicating Dumfries and Stranraer, his ultimate destination. Following these directions, he was surprised to come across another road sign pointing to Gretna Green. Doing a quick calculation of the time it would take to reach Stranraer from here, he decided he was well ahead of schedule, so he made a detour to take a walk round Gretna Green. He was enthralled by the different stories displayed around the blacksmith’s shop: some sad, some downright hilarious, but all with the same theme - romance. Stories of lords and ladies eloping to marry their true loves. Stories, too, of girls and boys, considered by law to be too young to marry in their own countries, eloping to Gretna Green to take their wedding vows. As in days of old, some even got married over the blacksmith’s anvil. All too soon he had to leave this romantic setting behind and continue on his way.
He was delayed slightly driving through Annan due to the Saturday traffic and shoppers. Feeling a bit peckish as he neared Dumfries, he remembered Billy telling him about one of the fish-and-chip shops where he wouldn’t be disappointed with the fare. Finding a car park by a river, he went in search of the shop. Billy was right of course. The fish and chips were delicious and were washed down with a Coke. A glance at his watch warned him that he had better get cracking and go at a steady pace from now on, just in case of any unforeseen hold-ups. He passed through lots of beautiful villages and along the twisting road with the sea shimmering in the bright sunlight below on his left, until he finally arrived at Stranraer harbour with a little time to spare. He booked in at the terminal and was directed into a line of cars.
Locking the car, he went to the terminal café and ordered some sandwiches and a pot of tea. Thus refreshed, he settled down to await the call for all motorists to return to their cars, reflecting on his journey so far. He would certainly give the west coast of Scotland some priority when he next considered taking a holiday.
Chapter Twelve
The short crossing over on the ferry to Larne had been pleasant. So calm and warm Donald had spent all two and a half hours on the upper deck watching Scotland receding in the distance and the shores of Ireland eventually appearing on the horizon. Susan had phoned the night before and explained she would be waiting in the lorry park at Larne harbour and to be sure to watch out for her. As soon as the first vehicle rolled down the ramp she would get out of the car and watch for him.
He pictured her as he had last seen her, anxious and stressed and big with child, and wondered how she would look now. The PA system interrupted his musing, informing drivers to return to their vehicles and foot passengers to gather at some point or other. With a last appraising glance at the fast-approaching Larne harbour, Donald joined the other drivers and passengers and descended the iron companionway down into the bowels of the ship. Waiting for the great iron doors to open and release the cars and vans and wagons, he sat, his thoughts occupied with Susan. Would her husband be with her? Would she be foolish enough to think he would be glad to hear her marriage had been salvaged? God forgive him, but he hoped a divorce was in the pipeline. There didn’t seem much substance to this shadowy husband and Susan deserved a real man. But he could be wrong. Perhaps when he met the guy he would be impressed by him. Only time would tell! Twenty minutes later he was bumping noisily down the ramp on to terra firma.
Donald’s first sight of Susan brought to the surface all the latent feelings she had once aroused in him. He remembered when he had first become aware of her sensuality on High Row and his pulse quickened. She looked beautiful in a white sleeveless top and brief white shorts, her limbs a golden honey colour. Her figure was neat and trim and the sun caught the chestnut highlights in her hair. Suddenly, to his surprise, he recaptured the feel and smell of her in his arms as if it were yesterday. To his dismay, however, she was accompanied by a tall, dark-haired man. He was deeply tanned and wore a white sports shirt and shorts. Donald smiled as it crossed his mind that the pair of them would make a good advertisement for Persil. Was this the husband?
He steered the car out of the flow of traffic and, leaving it, joined Susan and her companion on the pavement. ‘You look wonderful, Susan,’ he exclaimed and dared to kiss her on the cheek. To his delight she threw her arms around him and hugged him close.
‘It’s great to see you again, Donald.’ She swung away from him but stayed in the circle of his arm. Indicating her companion, she said, ‘This is my friend, Jim Brady. Jim, you must feel you already know Donald, since I’ve talked of nothing else since I knew he was coming.’
Jim thrust his hand at Donald and wryly agreed. ‘I do indeed. Susan thinks the world of you. Apparently you were there for her when no one else was, and for that I am grateful to you.’
Donald gripped the proffered hand and inwardly lamented this man’s handsome good looks. Jim’s words had a possessive ring to them and this dismayed Donald even more. ‘Pleased to meet you, Jim,’ he said, his voice pleasant, his demeanour neutral.
‘Donald, you’ll be glad to hear that Jim has been giving me driving lessons. I drove all the way here,’ Susan announced proudly.
A delighted grin split Donald’s face. ‘I’m glad to hear that! That’s very good news. You were doing very well before you left Darlington.’
‘She’s a natural! She’ll have no bother passing her test.’ Jim’s words of praise warmed her heart. He really had been making an effort these past few weeks. Why couldn’t she just forgive and forget?
‘Jim will lead the way back to Belfast, Donald, and I’ll go in your car. Then you can bring me up to date about everybody across the water.’
‘Right!’ Jim took control. ‘Donald, my car is over in the lorry park. Give me a few minutes and then Susan will direct you to me and we’ll get on our way.’
Jim strode off, admiring eyes following his progress. Donald gazed thoughtfully after him, feeling pale and insignificant compared to Jim. And to imagine that he had thought he had a tan! He glanced down at arms that now appeared yellow in the face of the other man’s tanned limbs.
Susan tugged at his sleeve to get his attention and gazed smilingly up into his face. ‘I really am so pleased to see you. Mam is looking after William, and Dad is mowing the lawn. All in your honour. They’re looking forward to meeting you, and Mam will have a meal ready for us.’
At once all his attention was hers. After all, tanned skin didn’t make the man, and she and Jim didn’t appear to be all that close. ‘Billy Devine had me a bit worried about your dad. Said he wasn’t too fond of Catholics. Mind you, Edith didn’t contradict him, but she assured me that you would look after me.’
Susan laughed aloud. ‘I’ve discovered lately my dad’s bark’s worse than his bite. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s going to be just fine. You’re even having our Alison’s bedroom while you’re here. It’s much bigger than the guest room. She left for Galway this morning with Graham and his parents.’
‘How is Graham?’
‘I don’t see very much of him these days. But I hear he’s still a bit wobbly on his legs. They say he will eventually get back to his old self. It looks like a Christmas wedding is on the cards.’
Donald eyed her closely, wanting to ask her how she felt about this. He held his tongue. Perhaps he had just imagined that Graham was interested in Susan, after all. If that were the case, he was hardly likely to be plann
ing to marry her sister, and Susan certainly didn’t seem in the least perturbed.
‘I think we’ve delayed long enough. Let’s go find Jim, eh, Donald? In case he thinks we’ve got lost already,’ she laughed.
When Jim saw Donald’s car coming along the lane between the high container lorries, he eased slowly into his path and Donald fell in behind him. The journey to Belfast had commenced. In his rear-view mirror Jim could see Susan chatting away to Donald and he was worried. Were they closer than Susan had led him to believe? He had thought he was making headway with her these past weeks, and would maybe be able to persuade her to marry him, but seeing how well she and Donald were getting on, he felt uneasy. This guy would be living under the same roof as Susan for the next three weeks; how could he further his own cause while Donald was there?
In the car Susan sat twisted in her seat to gaze at Donald. ‘How is Edith and Billy?’
‘Doing very well, as far as I can make out. Edith would have liked to come over with me, but they’re far too busy. She wants to see your wee son in person.’
‘Oh, I wish she had come with you,’ she said wistfully.
‘She said her and Billy would probably come over in the autumn.’
‘Good! Mam will be so pleased.’ A smile creased Susan’s face as she asked after her cousin and his wife. ‘How is Jack and the wonderful Margaret?’
‘Jack should put his foot down where that girl’s concerned,’ he retorted. ‘She’s far too brazen, that one!’ He squirmed in his seat as he remembered how he had almost succumbed to temptation with her the previous night.
‘Ah! So she’s still making passes at you, mm?’ Susan queried knowingly. Watching the red colour rise from his collar to hairline, she felt sad. ‘Don’t let her ruin your life, Donald. She’s not worth it. You deserve better.’
