The Wings of Love

by Sally Wentworth

  'But the world isn't like that any more,' Tressy protested. 'You can commit yourself to someone without having to go through the mumbo-jumbo of a ceremony to prove it.'

  'Then maybe I'm the old-fashioned type. I love you and I want to marry, you.'

  'You don't have to make an honest woman of me, if that's what you're thinking,' Tressy retorted sharply, anger beginning to grow.

  'It wasn't. But maybe you think if we're not married you'll still be able to sleep around.'

  She lifted a hand to hit him, but he caught her wrist. 'Maybe I slept around once too often,' she said fiercely. 'With you!'

  His grip tightened. 'And perhaps I don't like the idea of being good enough to go to bed with but not good enough to marry.'

  'I told you; I don't want to be owned. I want to be independent and earn my own living. You have too much. I don't want to have to be grateful for the food I eat, the clothes I wear or the roof over my head. Now do you understand?'

  'Oh, sure, I understand.' He let go of her wrist in disgust. 'There's no need for any gratitude in marriage. You're just a snob.'

  'A snob?' Tressy stared at him incredulously. 'How can I be a snob? I'm not rich.'

  'You don't have to be. There's such a thing as inverse snobbery, where the poor look down on those better off and take pride in being poor. Well, okay, if that's what you want, then go ahead and live with your pride. But I want a loving wife, not someone who'll come to my bed when she has time in between running her own selfish life!' Then he turned sharply on his heel and began to stride away.

  'Where are you going?' demanded Tressy.

  'Back to my boat. And I shall be there for a few days if you change your mind. If not, then goodbye, it's been nice knowing you.' He walked on as she gazed after him. 'Tell Nora I asked after her.' And then he was out of sight.

  Tressy stood there, sure he would come back, but she heard the taxi start up and began to run, but it had gone before she reached the driveway.

  Slowly she turned and went into the house, expecting to find Nora in bed, recovering from her ordeal by fire and water, but to her surprise they were all in the drawing-room with glasses of champagne in their hands.

  'Come on, Tressy. Come on in, girl,' Uncle Jack called out as she hesitated in the doorway . 'We've some good news to celebrate. Here, have a glass of champagne. Nora's just told us that she and Michel are getting married.'

  Almost in a trance, Tressy took the glass and raised it in a toast. Nora looked almost beautiful, her makeup washed off and her eyes sparkling happily in her tanned face, and Michel, too, looked very happy. He might have caught Nora on the rebound and be very glad of the money she stood to inherit, but Tressy believed he really cared about her cousin and she was happy to wish them well. They were all going out to celebrate and they invited Tressy along, so she went because it was better than staying home alone and she wouldn't have time to think.

  She put on the dress that Cris had bought her, put her hair up into a sophisticated style and was careful over her make-up. Michel had booked a table at the casino restaurant and afterwards they watched the elaborate and fabulous floor show. A great many men looked her over that night and liked what they saw, but Tressy was quite unaware of it. She was like two people, one who was outwardly normal, talking and smiling, and the other completely numb, unable and unwilling to think or feel. Luckily Michel and Nora were too wrapped up in each other tonight to ask her questions about Cris, but she knew that sooner or later they would get curious.

  It was almost two in the morning when she left the Casino with Aunt Grace and Uncle Jack, leaving the engaged couple to dance the night away. She said good night quite naturally and went up to her room, but once there she just lay on the bed without undressing and stared at the ceiling. Now she could think, now she could feel. And she didn't enjoy either.

  At three, she suddenly stood up, grabbed a few things that she stuffed into a holdall, wrote a quick note that she propped up on her dressing-table, then crept silently out of the house. The breeze lifted her skirts as she drove the scooter down into Monte Carlo, attracting a few wolf whistles. She wished the machine was more powerful, it seemed to take forever before she got to the harbour and drove along the quay, pulling up just by the Chimera. The gangplank was down and she went across it unsteadily in the dark and her high heels. Dropping her bag in the cockpit, she went down to the cabins. Cris's door wasn't locked. She pushed it open and saw him lying in a shaft of moonlight. He was awake, lying with his hands under his head, only a thin sheet covering him.

  Tressy moved into the cabin and shut the door, then began to take off her clothes as he watched. 'Is there room for someone else in there?' she asked him as her dress fell to the floor.

  'There could be,' he answered, watching the play of moonlight on her slender body. 'But only for a wife.' Moving over to the bed, Tressy pulled back the sheet. He wasn't wearing anything. 'Will a fiancée do for now?' she suggested huskily.

  'A fiancée will do fine.' Moving over, he put his arms round her as she climbed in beside him. 'What took you so long?' he demanded as he gathered her to him. 'I thought you weren't coming.'

  'But I'm here. And I'm never going away again, my love. My husband.'