by Helen Brooks
‘I’ve changed,’ she said flatly. Adultery had a way of taking all the amusement out of life.
‘No, I don’t think so. You just need to chill out, relax.’
He was something else, he really was! ‘I chill out often,’ Miriam said, trying hard to keep the outrage out of her voice. ‘And walking about with a gormless smile plastered on my face has never been my style actually.’
‘You couldn’t look gormless if you tried.’
His smile was singularly sweet and swept away her resentment in a moment of time. Telling herself she was being subjected to the Carter charm, she managed to keep her voice cool and even when she said, ‘Thank you. I’m afraid we might have to skip dinner tonight, Jay. I’ve things to do before work in the morning.’
‘Like washing your hair?’ he asked drily.
‘And some cleaning and a spot of ironing and so on.’
‘I’ve always believed that domestic chores shouldn’t rule one, so sorry, not a good enough excuse. Dinner’s still on.’
He’d always believed domestic chores shouldn’t rule one? Well, that was a mite easy for a man who employed a daily. Her voice studiously polite, Miriam said, ‘And how is Mrs Rowan, by the way?’
‘Still asking when you’re coming home.’
She perhaps should have expected that one. Knowing she would never win in a war of words, Miriam turned to look out of the window at the grey streets and folk scurrying about under umbrellas. It didn’t matter what he said or did in the long run, all she had to do was to remain resolute. There were only a few weeks until Christmas and she didn’t doubt Jay would keep his word and make the divorce as smooth as possible when she still wanted one when the time was up. She just had to be strong. Her soft mouth set in a determined line. And she would be. Just as walking about with a gormless smile plastered on her face wasn’t her style, neither was emotional suicide.
CHAPTER SEVEN
OVER the following weeks Miriam found her resolution to stay emotionally detached was severely tried. A cold, wet autumn had given way to bright, crisp days with thick white frosts at night, and winter had definitely arrived. As the gusts of a chill November wind saw the month out, December came in with a glinting sparkle on spider webs and the crunch of frosty ground. She had been dreading this month all year, knowing echoes of the Christmas the year before would feature even more vividly in her dreams. As it was, with seeing Jay every evening and at the weekends and coping with a demanding job, the changing of the month was merely a date on letterheads.
She made concentrated efforts to take each day as it came and to keep some mental space between her and Jay, but it was hard. Especially when they were together. A strange feeling was taking hold of her but she repressed it, refusing to acknowledge the weakness that told her she couldn’t do without him. She could. She had. And she’d have to in the future. It was as simple as that. Anything else was impossible.
She knew Jay was playing the waiting game, thinking she would change her mind about the divorce the more they became inseparable. And they were. Every minute they weren’t working they were together, but Jay always went home at night.
Several times in the last weeks, when he had kissed her with single-minded intensity and she was limp with raging desire, she had expected he would take their lovemaking to the next level. But he had never so much as undone one button on her clothes, let alone undressed her.
She knew he wanted to. He never missed an opportunity to touch her or take her hand and his compliments were seductive and sexy. And he certainly wasn’t seeing anyone else, he was always with her. But even though he kissed her until she was senseless that iron control held.
Which was good. Miriam nodded to herself as she finished getting ready for work on the first Monday in December. She and Jay had had a lazy Sunday the day before. He’d arrived at her bedsit with the Sunday papers just after ten o’clock and they’d read them while the Sunday roast cooked in her tiny kitchen area. She had still resolutely refused to visit the apartment again and so inevitably Jay was spending more and more time in her little home. After lunch they’d gone to Hyde Park and walked some calories off before undoing all the good work and having a cream tea at the Brass Kettle, a smart little teashop tucked away in a side-road near Knightsbridge where the waitresses wore black dresses and white aprons and all the food was home-made.
When he’d seen her home just as the winter sun was setting and casting fleeting wisps of silver into the pearly pink sky he had kissed her long and hard with a fierce possessiveness that had made her want more. Much more. And that was bad. Miriam surveyed herself in the mirror before leaving the bedsit. Very bad. She couldn’t afford to start sleeping with him. That would take their relationship somewhere it couldn’t go, somewhere where she became vulnerable again.
As she came down the stairs Clara emerged from her bedsit on her way to work, her hair all the colours of the rainbow and her lips as black as coal. In the last three weeks she’d had as many new piercings and her clothes were even more outrageous than normal.
‘Hi.’ Clara’s smile was bright but strained. ‘Good weekend with slimeball?’
Miriam nodded. ‘And you? How are things with Brian?’ she asked quietly. She was worried about Clara. When they’d had breakfast together on Saturday her friend had been too sparky, too upbeat, almost brittle.
‘Great.’ And then Clara stopped with her hand on the front door. ‘No, not great. Awful. And it’s all my fault. I—I keep pushing him away, saying and doing things to make him go off me.’
Hence the new piercings and psychedelic hair. Miriam stared at her. ‘Why?’ she asked simply.
‘Because I’m not in control any more.’ Clara’s blue eyes were desperate. ‘I don’t feel like myself. I’m terrified he’ll leave and yet I can’t stop doing things to make him do just that. Last night I said some terrible things; I even brought his mother into it and she’s such a sweet old biddy.’
Miriam was stunned. Suddenly she realised she was seeing the real Clara, that the easy-going, happy-go-lucky front was just that. A front. ‘But you care for him?’
‘That’s the trouble. I don’t want to love anyone. As soon as you do that you leave yourself wide open for a fall.’
‘But Brian’s crazy about you, Clara. Anyone can see that. He loves you.’
‘My parents were supposed to love me but that didn’t stop my dad leaving when I was six and then my mum putting me into care. Said she couldn’t cope. Ha! With a six-year-old? And the next minute she’d taken up with some fella who had three kids and was looking after them.’
‘Oh, Clara.’ After all their girly chats and meals together Miriam couldn’t believe this was happening on a Monday morning in the hall when they were both on their way to work.
‘She had me back for a while when I was eight. The new guy said he wanted us to be a family, that I was to look on him as my dad. I was so grateful to him and so scared I might do or say something to spoil things. And then he came to my room one night when Mum was out…’
Again Miriam said, ‘Oh, Clara.’ She just didn’t know what to do except hug Clara close. When the hug ended both their faces were wet. ‘What happened after that? Did you tell your mum?’ Miriam asked softly.
‘I tried to but she wouldn’t listen. She didn’t want anything to spoil her new perfect life, I suppose,’ Clara said bitterly. ‘And he threatened me all the time, saying they’d lock me away if I said anything, that no one would listen to a child. I believed him. If my own mother didn’t believe me, why would anyone else? Then when I was ten there was a teacher at school who saw through the rebellious brat I’d become. One day I told her everything. The police were involved and a police doctor confirmed I was speaking the truth. He went to prison but my mother still insisted I was lying and said she wanted nothing more to do with me. I didn’t mind being back in care—anything was better than what I’d lived with.’
‘I’m so terribly sorry, Clara.’
Clara shrugged,
forcing a smile through her tears. ‘That’s life. The positive thing was I discovered I had a brain, that I was really very bright. At uni I made up my mind I’d make a good life for myself, get a brilliant job and live on my terms. Use men to get what I wanted but no involvement. I mean, who needs it?’
They were both going to be late for work but Miriam knew she couldn’t stop Clara talking; her friend’s face had looked haunted when she’d first seen her. ‘And then Brian came along,’ she said softly.
Clara nodded. ‘And then Brian came along,’ she echoed flatly. ‘He told me last night he made up his mind a year ago he was going to be celibate until the right woman, the one, came along. He’d slept with other girlfriends since he was seventeen or eighteen but one day he woke up thinking he wanted something different from that.’ She shrugged. ‘He can be very determined when he makes up his mind about something; he’s terrifically good at his job. He—he said last night he knew I was the woman.’
‘How did you feel?’ Miriam didn’t really need to ask; she had seen the desperation on Clara’s face that morning.
‘Panicky, scared, aggressive.’ Clara’s heavy eye make-up had already streaked down her cheeks; now she made it worse by scrubbing at her eyes with her fists as she added, ‘I was evil, Miriam. I don’t think he’ll ever talk to me again, let alone want to go out with me.’
‘He doesn’t know about your mother and what happened with this man?’
Clara shook her head. ‘Apart from the teacher and a therapist I had to see when I was in care, I’ve never discussed this with anyone else but you.’
‘You need to tell him, Clara.’
‘I couldn’t.’ Clara started to cry again. ‘I know it’s daft but he might look at me differently; it would change things. He’d know too much, it’d give him too much power…Oh, I can’t explain how I feel.’
Miriam felt at a loss for a moment. Then she took Clara’s arm. ‘Come on. We’re going up to my place and we’ll both ring in to work and say we ate something that disagreed with us last night and will be late. You’re going to have a coffee and something to eat and we’re going to talk this through. OK?’
‘I can’t.’ Clara sniffed miserably. ‘I’ve got to pull some material together for a programme that’s already way behind schedule, and because it’s of a sensitive nature no one else can take over.’
‘Tough.’ Miriam was not going to be deflected. ‘You’re far more important than any TV programme and this is the rest of your life we’re talking about here.’
Now Clara smiled weakly. ‘True,’ she admitted. ‘Dramatic, but true.’
Two hours and plenty of tears later, Clara had agreed she’d tell Brian she had something important to discuss with him when she saw him at work, and could they meet later that day? ‘But what if he’s already decided he’s had enough?’ she said to Miriam as they repaired their make-up preparatory to leaving the bedsit. ‘I was absolutely foul to him last night, and I do mean foul. He might have made up his mind he’s sick of being the nice guy to such an out-and-out headcase as me.’
‘He won’t and you’re not,’ Miriam said firmly, praying silently her faith in the stalwart Brian wasn’t ill-founded. If ever anyone needed a hero, it was Clara.
‘I wouldn’t blame him.’ Clara stopped what she was doing and stared gloomily at her reflection. ‘The chances are our relationship won’t last anyway—we’re from different ends of the spectrum. He had the classically normal upbringing and when his father died five years ago he was devastated. His mother is an absolute love with a heart of gold. He couldn’t possibly understand where I’m coming from.’
‘You underestimate him.’ Miriam turned Clara round by her shoulders to face her. ‘And his mum sounds just what you need. I think this has every chance of going the course and you do too, deep down. That’s why you’ve got the jitters.’
Clara raised an eyebrow. ‘OK, wise woman. I concede defeat.’
‘I’m not wise—far from it. Believe me, Clara, I’m just as messed up as you are but without such good cause.’ As she said it her own words reverberated in her head. Fortunately Clara was too immersed in her own problems to dwell on what Miriam had said and the moment passed, but as the two of them made their way downstairs Miriam was telling herself she would think about all the issues Clara’s revelations had thrown up later. Much later. Once she was in bed. With a sickening jolt she realised there would be plenty to consider.
In spite of the awfulness of all Clara had confided, Miriam found she wasn’t thinking of her friend as she opened the front door of the house. It was Jay who was at the forefront of her mind. Probably because of this the young, bespectacled, shiny-shoed man standing on the pavement didn’t register with her until behind her she heard Clara breathe, ‘Brian? What are you doing here?’
‘You didn’t come in this morning and someone said you weren’t well.’
‘I’m—I’m all right.’
‘You’ve been crying.’
‘I know.’
Miriam decided it was a good moment to bow out. Turning to Clara, who had turned an interesting shade of pink, she said, ‘I’m sure you two have things to discuss and I must be getting off. See you later.’
She didn’t think either of them noticed her leave.
On the way to work she found she was depressed, and—shamefully, she admitted to herself—it wasn’t because of the tragic tale Clara had told her. She simply felt very small and very alone, and the only person who could make it better was the one person who couldn’t—if that made sense. Which it didn’t, of course.
Sighing heavily, she raised her head to see the woman opposite her on the tube staring at her from over the top of her newspaper. By the time Miriam had smiled at her the woman was already reading again, but that was the way it was on the underground. Momentary eye contact and then back to anonymity.
She hated the tube. Miriam glanced round the crowded confines of the train and sighed again, but silently this time. When she’d been with Jay one of the joys of married life had been a lift to work. Not that that was important in the overall scheme of things, she assured herself swiftly, shocked at the blatant materialism. But still, it had been nice…
Her thoughts meandered on with the jolting of the train. So had waking up beside Jay each morning, opening her eyes and seeing his dark head on the pillow; sharing the funny moments that had occurred at their respective work places over dinner; drowning in the scent and feel of the one person in the world who loved you more than life itself—except he hadn’t. Or…Her heart began to thud so hard it felt it was jumping out of her throat. Had she made a mistake? Had he been telling the truth all along?
Finding she wanted to cry, she hastily pulled herself together and determined to stop thinking about Jay. She didn’t know what had got into her this morning; it must be because of Clara. She would never have believed the girl had such a heartbreaking past if she hadn’t heard it from Clara herself; Clara was always so cheerful and funny and light-hearted. It just went to show no one ever really knew anyone else.
She did so hope Brian would come up trumps for Clara, but he would, she was sure of it. The look in his eyes when he’d stood staring at Clara this morning had been everything any woman could want. And look how he’d come to find her despite all Clara had said the night before. They’d be fine. He clearly had the sort of tenacity needed to help Clara face and beat her gremlins.
As the train neared her stop she began to run through some of the more important things to do when she reached the office, but try as she might to keep them at bay, truths that had resonated with her because of her own situation crowded her mind. As Clara had talked, revealing her own insecurities, Miriam had known the other girl was inadvertently highlighting more than just her own weaknesses. They were very different, she and Clara, but in some ways disturbingly similar. Clara had chosen a somewhat promiscuous lifestyle involving relationships with men she’d known she wouldn’t fall in love with but who presented something of a
challenge, dumping them as soon as they’d fallen for her. She, on the other hand, had unconsciously picked needy types who relied on her far more than she did them, mainly because she hadn’t been able to trust that they wouldn’t leave her unless it was that way. But it all boiled down to the same thing, a need to be in control, to be holding the whip hand. And then she had met Jay.
She shivered, although she wasn’t cold. They’d reached her station and she was thankful for it; she didn’t want to think any more.
But even as she walked the short distance from the tube station thoughts crowded in. She hadn’t meant to fall in love, she had never bargained for it. In fact she didn’t really think she had believed in it until it had happened to her. Love, she’d decided very early on in life, was essentially a fierce sexual attraction, a me-Tarzan, you-Jane type of primal magnetism between the sexes. Avoid that and you wouldn’t be fooled into the net as her mother had been. Hence, she supposed, her penchant for subconsciously choosing lame ducks.
She stopped at the steps to the building, unaware of desultory flakes of snow whirling in the wind as she stood looking inwards. For the first time she admitted to herself that under the wonder and excitement of Jay sweeping her off her feet, of them getting married, being blissfully happy, there had always been a strong undercurrent of fear. Jay had said it was inevitable they would separate because she’d convinced herself he was like her father and that believing anything else would make her too vulnerable. She didn’t think that was wholly true but there was an element of truth in it. She had felt too deeply, loved him too much and it had frightened her, even as she had done everything she could to please him. Like pretending to enjoy living at the apartment because she’d known how much he loved it there.
When the worst had happened, when she had found him with Belinda and her world had come crashing down about her ears, there had still been a strange feeling of some weight being taken off her shoulders. Now she realised it was because the waiting had finally come to an end.
