The West Indian’s nose began to bleed, and there was a lot of blood. Linda suddenly felt sick. She edged her way to the front door and out. The cold air had a slightly sobering effect. She went over to her car and sat in it.
Eventually Paul arrived. ‘I was worried. I thought you’d walked out on me.’ He got in the car and put his arm around her. She pulled away. ‘What’s the matter?’ he continued.
‘I feel terrible. I think I’m going to be sick.’
‘Oh, great. Let’s go back inside and I’ll get you upstairs to the bathroom.’
‘No. I don’t want to go back in there.’
‘You’ll feel better in a minute.’ He put his arm around her again, and this time she didn’t pull away. He kissed her, while his hands explored her body.
She felt weak and her head spun, and when she shut her eyes everything whirled round and round. She could feel Paul touching her, and his mouth on hers, but it all seemed like it was happening to someone else.
Abruptly he let go of her and started the car. They seemed to be driving for ages, but really it was no time at all. Then he was helping her out of the car, and they were climbing a lot of stairs, and then they were in a room, and he was pushing her onto a bed.
She didn’t struggle when he unzipped her dress and pulled it off, because, after all, this wasn’t really happening.
He kissed her slowly. The bed was soft, and she felt very comfortable. His arms were strong and warm, and his hands created a fantastic excitement in her. He rolled her over on her stomach and she felt him undoing her bra.
‘I’m not here,’ she whispered. ‘I’m on another planet. I’m very drunk, you shouldn’t take disadvantage of me. I’m at an advantage…’ She started to giggle.
He began to kiss her back, and then she was suddenly lost in a raging passion which seemed to go on forever and ever.
‘I love you,’ one of them said.
‘I love you,’ the other said.
It was good to be wanted.
* * *
Linda awoke at five in the morning. She opened her eyes in disbelief, and was parched with an awful thirst. Her eyes felt heavy and her face like sandpaper. She looked around and discovered she was in a small untidy room. Paul was sprawled across the end of the bed asleep.
She sat up slowly and looked for something to cover herself with. Her head felt it would split open if she moved too rapidly. She pulled a cover off the bed, and wrapping it round her, she got up.
Paul didn’t stir. She groped her way to the door and found herself in a tiny hallway piled high with clutter. She made her way through to the bathroom, which was small, rusting, and old. She switched on the light. It was a naked bulb, and when she turned on the cold-water tap a large black spider ran disdainfully across the basin. She almost screamed.
Quickly she drank four mugfuls of water. It tasted faintly of toothpaste but made her feel a little better in spite of that.
She stared in the mirror above the basin. Her makeup was smeared and etched into deep lines about her face. Her hair was untidy and matted. I look like I belong here, she thought vaguely.
She padded back into the bedroom and searched for her clothes. When she found them she dressed quickly. She looked at Paul. He slept deeply. She stared at him for a long time and then, finding her coat, she left.
It was cold and silent in the street. Her car coughed and spluttered, and she thought that it would never start. At last it did, and she drove home through the deserted streets.
She let herself quietly into the house and went straight to her bedroom. Everything looked clean and new. She took a hot bath and then collapsed into bed, where she lay and thought. She felt tremendously guilty, and angry at herself for having allowed it to happen. Yes, she had been drunk, but was that any real excuse? She had never imagined herself in the role of the unfaithful wife and it was not something she accepted easily.
What would David say?
Why was her first thought always of David?
At last she fell asleep knowing that in the morning she would have to face him, and that wasn’t going to be easy.
She tossed and turned. It was a long and restless sleep.
Chapter Five
David left the Turkish baths at eight in the morning feeling refreshed and invigorated. He contemplated phoning Claudia but then decided to wait the day out and see if she called him.
He parked his car, bought the morning papers, and then made his way along Park Lane to the Grosvenor House Hotel where he planned to breakfast before going home.
He ordered bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee, and sat back to scan the papers. His eye was immediately caught by a half-page picture on the front page of the Daily Mirror. It was captioned MORE NEAR-RIOTS IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE, and the picture was of an angry mob of people surrounding two policemen who were in the process of carrying a woman away from the road. The woman’s skirt was high above her knees, so high that you could glimpse her panties. Her hair was flopping over her face, and one shoe was about to fall from her struggling foot. It was an effective picture.
The waitress arrived with his breakfast order. She was plump and cockney. She peered over his shoulder at the paper. ‘’Ere, what does she think she looks like?’ she muttered. ‘About time all this rubbish was stopped. A load of showoffs, that’s what they are. They should lock the lot of ’em up!’ She wandered away, cluck-clucking about nothing in particular. David stared at the photo, horrified. The woman was unmistakably Linda. His Linda! He shook his head in disbelief. What was she doing? What was she thinking of?
He gulped his coffee, scalded his tongue, swore, found himself unable to eat anything, and called for the check.
The waitress padded slowly back. ‘What’s the matter, dear? Everything all right?’
He thrust money at her. ‘Everything’s fine,’ he said and stormed out.
A parking warden was in attendance beside his car. David brushed impatiently past him.
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait while I finish writing out this ticket, sir,’ said the warden. ‘I suppose you are aware that this is a restricted zone for parking?’
‘Just give me the ticket and get on with it,’ said David brusquely.
The warden glared at him and then proceeded to take his time.
David drove away, his face grim. He envisaged what he would say to Linda. The whole thing was so utterly ridiculous. His wife at a protest meeting! It was ludicrous. She didn’t know anything about politics or bombs. The kitchen, the children, and social activities such as tea with the girls and dinner out twice a week were her province. Ban the Bomb indeed! Who did she think she was?
Claudia was forgotten. He put his foot hard down on the accelerator and raced home.
Ana let him in. ‘Mrs. Cooper, she sleep late,’ she announced. ‘You like tea?’
‘No,’ he grunted, already halfway up the stairs to the bedroom.
Linda was asleep, curled up and buried beneath the covers. He drew the curtains, throwing glaring daylight into the room. She didn’t stir. He paced the floor, coughed loudly, and when she still didn’t appear to show any signs of waking, he went over and shook her roughly, thrusting a copy of the Daily Mirror in front of her face as she sleepily opened her eyes.
‘What’s all this about?’ he demanded angrily.
Oh, God, he had found out about her and Paul! How? So soon. She sat up quickly.
David stood there glowering at her as he continued talking. ‘What is this? Some secret ambition to make yourself look a complete fool?’ He brandished the paper at her again, and she took it from him.
A feeling of relief swept over her when she realized that this was what he was so furious about. ‘What an awful photo!’ she exclaimed. ‘I didn’t know they were taking pictures.’
‘Is that all you have to say?’ He mimicked her. ‘I didn’t know they were taking pictures!’ He snatched the paper away and in a loud and angry voice said, ‘What were you doing there anyway? What were you thi
nking of?’
‘I had nothing else to do. I just found myself there. I’m sorry that you’re so angry about it.’
‘I’m not angry,’ he screamed. ‘I like to see photos of my wife smeared all over the papers, with her skirt around her waist, accompanied by a load of layabouts.’
She got out of bed. ‘I’m not going to sit here while you yell at me. Perhaps if you spent a weekend at home for a change this might not have happened.’
Just then the telephone rang. Linda suddenly felt very hot and flushed. Supposing it was Paul? Should she answer it, or would it be best to let David pick it up, and then maybe Paul would hang up. She was convinced it was him.
David swooped down on it and barked into the receiver, ‘Yes?’
Linda held her breath, while David launched into a long conversation with someone from his office. She took advantage of his preoccupation on the phone and dressed.
When he had finished talking, he seemed a little calmer.
‘Do you want some breakfast?’ she asked.
‘No. I have to make some calls. There’s this party tonight to launch the Beauty Maid soap product; I had forgotten all about it. You had better meet me at the office at seven, and we’ll go from there. I hope to Christ nobody saw your publicity.’
She groaned inwardly at the thought of another party, and then mentally planned her day, which included being at home to greet the children and a visit to the hairdresser’s.
David meanwhile had his own thoughts. Claudia would most certainly be at the party, she was being paid to be there. He wondered if it would be possible for him to effect a quiet reconciliation without everyone in the room noticing. Had to be sure that Linda didn’t become suspicious, she seemed to be getting a little too concerned about him being away so much. Maybe she was beginning to suspect him, although this seemed unlikely, as he had managed to get away with various affairs throughout the years and she had never found him out yet. At least he would be able to see Claudia. He started to make his business calls.
* * *
The children burst back into the house at exactly four o’clock. Linda’s father was always prompt. She had just returned from the hairdresser’s, and Stephen flung his small, wiry body at her, practically knocking her down.
‘We’ve had a smashing time, Mummy,’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m starving. What’s for tea? Grandma makes lovely cakes!’
His sister, Jane, gave Linda a small kiss. She was six and rather shy. ‘I’m glad we’re home, Mummy. Your hair looks all pretty. Are you and Daddy going out?’
Linda greeted her father and they sat and chatted while Ana served tea and the children rushed around rediscovering their various toys.
She was only half listening as her father droned on about Stephen’s and Jane’s activities during the weekend. She thought about Paul. What did he think of her? Why hadn’t he telephoned? What would she say if he phoned and David was there?
Finally her father left, and when the children were settled with Ana, having their dinner, she began to get ready. Just as she was about to leave the house, the telephone rang. She so expected it to be Paul that she felt herself break out in a sweat and her hand started to shake as she picked up the receiver. ‘Hello.’
‘Hello, darling, it’s Monica. How about you, then! Aren’t you the dark horse! Fancy leaving us yesterday and not saying a word about where you were going. What does David think about it all?’
‘Oh,’ replied Linda, ‘he’s not too pleased.’
Monica laughed. ‘Not to worry. Jack and I think it’s marvellous. Anyway, sweetie, we’re having a few people over after dinner tonight, and we would love you and David to come.’
‘I don’t know, Monica. We have to go to a press party launching the new soap product. I can’t say what time we’ll be able to get away.’
‘Never mind. Just come along when you’re finished. You know us, we’re always late.’ She gave no chance to protest. ‘See you later, then. Bye.’
Linda replaced the receiver. She really wasn’t too fond of Monica and Jack, and certainly didn’t feel like seeing them later. However, she would have to tell David, and he would probably want to go.
She left the house in a bad mood, with a headache, half-angry and half-relieved that Paul hadn’t phoned. She desperately wanted him to, otherwise, what had it all been? A quick one-night affair? A meeting of two people with no more in common than a few hours in bed? However, if he did phone, she wanted to tell him that she couldn’t possibly see him again, that it had all been a big mistake.
She sighed. At least that way she would be regaining a small amount of self-respect by denying herself something she really wanted. It was all so unexpected. She had really never thought of herself as the sort of woman who could have an affair. And Paul was so much younger than she, and so different from the type of people she knew and mixed with. How had it happened?
She searched her mind and finally concluded that it must be her fault. She resolved to try and put the episode out of her mind and to work desperately to make things more satisfactory between herself and David.
That decision made, she felt better.
* * *
It was nine o’clock before Claudia appeared at the Beauty Maid party. David had been watching for her all evening, and suddenly there she was. She materialized beside him, looking exceptionally beautiful, and murmured, ‘Good evening, Mr. Cooper.’
He was taken off guard. He was standing talking to a group which included several press and Linda. He became flustered.
Claudia noticed and smiled faintly. People were looking expectantly at him, waiting to be introduced. At last he said, ‘Oh, this is Claudia Parker, our Beauty Maid girl.’
Claudia smiled at the group. She was flushed and her eyes shone. David knew at once that she was a little drunk. She wore an orange dress, dangerously low cut, and the women in the gathering found themselves standing up straighter and throwing out their bosoms, as if in answer to this sudden challenge. The men were all obviously impressed.
‘Miss Parker?’ Ned Rice, a small beady-eyed reporter, pressed toward her. ‘What do you really think of Beauty Maid soap?’ His eyes darted toward her bosom.
Claudia played up to him. She fluttered her very long eyelashes and gave him one of her deep, sexy looks. ‘Well,’ she said at last, ‘actually, I’m an actress, therefore I don’t feel I can give you a serious opinion on soap. As a matter of fact, I’ve just come from seeing Conrad Lee, and he’s very interested in having me in his new movie.’ She shot David a triumphant look.
Ned Rice was most interested. ‘Sounds wonderful. Perhaps we could do a piece about you on our film page.’
‘Yes, I’d like that.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll give you my phone number.’
David could stand it no more. He gripped her by the arm, smiled tightly, and said, ‘I hope you will excuse us. Miss Parker is here for a purpose. She will be demonstrating our product, and I think she’s due to begin pretty soon, so I had better get her over to Phillip Abbottson.’
‘Oh, well, Miss Parker,’ said Ned Rice, ‘I’ll see you later and we’ll get together on this.’
‘Fine.’ She gave one last radiant smile around the group and followed David.
As soon as they were out of earshot he exploded. ‘You’re drunk,’ he accused. ‘Where have you been? You were supposed to be here by eight.’
She gave him a cool look. ‘David, baby, you’re nothing in my life, so why don’t you just leave me alone?’
‘You fucking bitch,’ he said in a low voice. His grip tightened on her arm.
‘I’m going to make a scene if you don’t let go of me,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m tired of you telling me what I should do. I’m not someone’s wife who has to answer questions and account for every second of her life.’
At that moment Phillip Abbottson rushed up to them.
‘What is going on?’ he asked. ‘Claudia, you were supposed to be here an hour ago. We’re waiting to unveil the display. Get cha
nged, for Christ’s sake. You think we want to be here all night?’ He gave David an odd look and then with Claudia in tow rushed off again.
Ned Rice sidled up to David. His plump, pasty wife was talking to Linda across the other side of the room. ‘Quite a bit, your Miss Parker,’ he said with a leer. ‘I bet she’s a hot little number, a real tiger.’
David endeavoured to remain calm. ‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘In that case I expect it’s all right for me to have a bash.’ He nudged David. ‘These starlets are all the same, y’know. You’ve just got to tell them you can get their name in print and they open their legs without you even asking.’
David was saved from answering by the arrival of Mrs. Rice and Linda from across the room.
Ned affectionately patted his wife’s plump shoulder. ‘Enjoying yourself, love?’ he asked. Then he waggled an accusing finger at Linda. ‘And what were you up to, making front-page news this morning?’
David was beginning to dislike Ned Rice more and more.
Just then the lights in the room were dimmed and a spotlight was focused on a mock stage set at one end of the room. Phillip Abbottson was standing poised at a microphone. As soon as the chatter died down he launched into a long speech about Beauty Maid soap. He was a good promoter and made a simple bar of soap sound like a solid block of gold. At the end of his speech there was polite scattered applause, and then he stood to one side and said, ‘And now I would like to introduce you to Miss Beauty Maid herself!’
The curtains were drawn back, and there sat Claudia, in a marble bath surrounded by bubbles, in fact, an exact replica of the set that was used in the television commercial. She was wearing a flesh-coloured swimsuit, but of course no one could see it, so the general assumption was that she had nothing on beneath the bubbles.
David felt a surge of excitement.
Claudia smiled at her audience and started to recite her Beauty Maid speech.
Ned Rice whispered something obscene in David’s ear.
Mrs. Rice said to Linda, ‘Isn’t she a pretty little thing?’
B00CAXBD9C EBOK Page 4
