by June Tate
She dreaded tomorrow when John would return for the rest of his belongings. What sort of a mood would he be in? No matter what, she determined, she wouldn’t change her mind. Why should she? She’d put up with him for far too long. Now she would have a life!
That morning, Connie entered the staff entrance of the store and removed her coat. She was terrified of seeing her lover. Had his wife told him of their conversation? If so, what would he say? If not, and he wanted to meet her, what could she say? She certainly didn’t want to face Mrs Baker again and be accused of consorting with her husband. Her hands were trembling at the thought, and she dropped a load of goods.
‘What on earth’s the matter with you this morning?’ demanded Betty. ‘You’re all of a dither!’
‘I didn’t sleep well, that’s all,’ she answered and carried on. Then, across the floor, she saw John striding quickly across towards her counter. He sent Betty to the stockroom on an errand, then glared at Connie.
‘What on earth did you say to my wife yesterday?’ He looked at her coldly.
‘I didn’t say anything! I thought she was a customer. She asked for some elastic and then when I asked if there was anything else, she told me to keep away from her husband!’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I didn’t say anything!’ Now Connie was getting angry. It was bad enough to be accused by the wife, but now John was behaving as if it were all her fault. ‘What did you expect me to say? Tell her about our weekend in Bournemouth, registered as your wife!’
He paled visibly at her outburst. ‘Keep your voice down,’ he hissed.
‘She told you about our meeting then?’
His lips narrowed. ‘Oh yes, she certainly did. She ordered me out of the house.’
Connie studied the angry man before her and suddenly saw him in a different light. He was no longer the charmer who had led her astray. He was a man with an appetite who’d been found out. An unattractive creature – and she knew at once she was free of him at last.
‘Is there anything else?’ She looked at him as if he were a stranger who had just dropped by.
‘Is that all you can say? My marriage is in ruins!’
‘That’s your problem, John. Not mine,’ she said, and she turned away to serve a customer.
At lunchtime, Baker drove home and parked in front of the door. Putting his key in the lock, he struggled with it. What the hell was wrong? The door opened, and Kay looked at him.
‘You’re wasting your time. I’ve had the locks changed!’ She turned and walked into the kitchen.
He followed. ‘You what?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Was that really necessary?’
‘I thought so.’ She pointed into the corner. ‘There are a couple of suitcases with your clothes.’ She handed him a carrier bag. ‘And here’s your dirty washing!’
He looked at her in horror. ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
She chuckled. ‘I have no idea, but I suggest you don’t wear it as it is.’
‘This is not a laughing matter, Kay! You are putting our marriage in danger.’
She was incredulous. ‘I am putting our marriage in danger? How can you stand there and say that? You! You have done this. You and your bloody women, so don’t try and lay the blame at my door!’
His mind was racing nineteen to the dozen trying to think of a way to change the situation. ‘You’re right, and I’ve been a fool. But, Kay, darling, I don’t want to lose you. I still love you, surely you know that?’
She looked scornfully at him. ‘Frankly, I don’t give a damn, as Rhett Butler once said. You see, John … I no longer love you. In fact, I’ve not loved you for quite a while.’
This shocked him to his core. ‘What? I don’t believe you.’
‘Please yourself. Years ago when I first found out about your womanizing, I made a decision to stay with you, but after every affair, my love died a little bit more. Now all I feel is anger. Not at you, strangely – but at myself for staying in this sham of a marriage for so long.’ She glared at him, defiance burning in her eyes. ‘I am going to divorce you on the grounds of adultery!’
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘You can’t do that!’
‘Indeed I can and I will, and what’s more if you contest it I’ll name your shop girl. I asked someone who she was so I know her name. Think of the scandal!’
The consequence of her remark horrified him. ‘I could lose my job!’
She shrugged. ‘Not if you don’t contest the case.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You seem pretty sure about all this.’
‘I had a long conversation with my solicitor this morning. I’m not quite the fool you think I am. Seven years of marriage and you still think I’m only capable of being a wife and mother. Well, John my dear, I’m much more than that!’
He studied the stranger before him. He didn’t know this woman at all. ‘Is there someone else?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Have you met another man?’
Kay started to laugh. ‘Really! I’m not like you. No, there is no one else involved, but I hope to meet someone in the future. Someone who is honest, who will think enough of me to be faithful, to appreciate me for the woman I really am. Not just an appendage.’
‘You have never just been that to me, Kay.’
‘Not to begin with I grant you, but certainly in the latter years. I looked after your every need, like a housekeeper. I pleasured your bed whenever you turned to me, which I hated, knowing you’d been with another woman, but I had Susan to think about.’
He had only one more weapon to use to try and save his marriage and that was his daughter. ‘Well, think of her now, I beg you. If we part she’ll be devastated. Who will be here to read her stories at night?’
‘I will! You can see her regularly, we’ll make an arrangement – and at her age she’ll soon accept the change once I’ve talked to her.’
A frown furrowed his brow. ‘What on earth will you say to her? I don’t want her upset.’
Kay glared at him. ‘You never gave her a thought when you climbed into bed with another woman, did you?’
What could he say?
Kay walked to the door. ‘We have nothing more to say to each other, John. You’ll hear from my solicitor. Now I’d like you to leave.’
John Baker picked up the two suitcases and walked to the front door, where he hesitated and turned to his wife to speak.
She opened the door. ‘Goodbye John.’
He walked out of the house, put the cases in the car and drove away.
Seven
During the weeks that followed, Connie only saw John briefly as he went about his work. He neglected to visit the haberdashery department, but instead sent one of his undermanagers over whenever necessary. Which worked well for both of them.
Betty was delighted when Connie told her she’d stopped seeing the floor manager, although she didn’t tell her why. Betty didn’t ask but was just grateful that her friend had seen sense at last. Had she known that Connie was planning to spend the night with Sam after the Silverstone race, she might have thought differently.
Sam and his mates were working on the new car most of the time, and Connie, who now knew about the move, spent a lot of her weekends at the other garage and had become part of the team, making tea and trying to be useful. Occasionally, she and Sam managed a trip to the cinema, or to go out for a drink after work. Their relationship grew, and she was known as Sam’s girl by all his friends.
One Sunday they took the car out and road-tested it on a disused airfield, moving the vehicle on the back of a truck especially built for the job. The field was deserted and the wind blew across the neglected runway, which had weeds growing through the tarmac. The atmosphere was tense as Sam climbed into the driving seat and strapped himself in. Connie stood with Tom and Harry as they prepared to time the run.
Connie held her breath as Sam moved the car into position, revved the engine, signalled that he was ready … then took off.
/> It moved like a streak of lightening, and the excitement of the two men beside her was palpable. When eventually Sam had finished his run, Tom pressed the button on the stopwatch he was holding and read it.
‘Bloody hell!’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s fucking amazing! Oops, sorry Connie!’
She just laughed because although she wasn’t knowledgeable even she could see that this was a fast time.
Sam drove over towards them. Tom said nothing; he just showed Sam the watch. The two men grinned broadly at each other.
‘We’ve bloody done it!’ Tom yelled and picked Connie up and swung her round. Then, putting her down, he clasped Harry in his arms and the two men danced around in glee.
Climbing out of the car, Sam kissed Connie and shook hands with his friends. ‘Gentlemen, I think we have a winner!’
‘Silverstone is in the bag!’ said Harry enthusiastically.
But Sam tried to calm him down. ‘Nothing is ever in the bag, you know that. If for one moment we become overconfident, we could lose the race.’
But Tom and Harry were too excited to listen. ‘I would love to see Jake Barton’s face when he realizes what speed we have achieved with this engine,’ Tom said with a wide grin.
‘We have to find out what vehicle he’s entering before we can celebrate,’ Sam warned. ‘He, too, may have achieved as much.’
Harry gave a derisory laugh. ‘Barton? He hasn’t got the brains!’
Sam agreed. ‘He hasn’t, but don’t forget he has two good mechanics working with him and they are no slouches.’
Connie listened to the exchange of words between the men. It was very evident that something special was happening, but she felt her stomach tighten at the mention of the other driver. He obviously was bad news, and it worried her. She now knew just how dangerous the race game was, without the threat of any added danger from unscrupulous drivers.
She watched as the car was once again loaded on to the truck and Tom and Harry got into the driver’s cab, then she climbed on the back of Sam’s motorbike. They all returned to the garage, where the Riley was unloaded and safely locked away. Then the four of them found a cafe in Shirley to eat.
They discussed the run in low tones so that no one could overhear their conversation. Turning to Connie, Sam said, ‘You mustn’t breathe a word of what you saw today, sweetheart, we don’t want to let the cat out of the bag before the race. You do understand how important this is, don’t you?’
‘Of course,’ she assured him.
‘We won’t even tell Jimmy. Not that I don’t trust him, but he’s young and in his enthusiasm he might let something slip without meaning to. We’ll just say there is more work needed to be done before we’re satisfied.’
‘Today was so thrilling, I can’t wait for Silverstone,’ she said.
He took her hand in his. ‘Neither can I.’
She knew by his expression he wasn’t referring to the race, and she felt even more excited as she smiled at him.
Jake Barton too was looking forward to Silverstone. He and his men had been working on a Jaguar he’d bought for the race, and he felt at last he had a vehicle that would beat the living daylights out of Sam Knight. That was even more important to him than winning the race itself; such was his obsession with the other driver. This was a great concern to his mechanics, who were sitting together in a pub, discussing the forthcoming race over a pint of beer.
Charlie was the first to put his thoughts into words. ‘For the first time ever we have a chance in this race at Silverstone, but that bloody lunatic could ruin it if he doesn’t keep focused on the race itself. All he talks about is beating Knight, and that worries me!’
‘My thoughts exactly!’ agreed Bert. ‘We’ve slogged our bloody guts out tuning that engine and working on the body to make it safe – but to what end?’
Sipping his beer Charlie was deep in thought. Putting down the glass he looked at his friend and said, ‘If he screws up the race, I’m off! Unless he can show me he’s a professional when it’s the big time, I’m moving on.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘I haven’t forgotten how he decked me … for nothing!’
‘Me too!’ Bert agreed. ‘There are others who will appreciate what we have to offer; we won’t lose out if we put the word about.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘This race is his last chance.’
Unaware of the hostility felt by his two men, Jake was in his garage sitting in the driving seat of his Jaguar, slowly revving the engine, listening to it purr. Stroking the dashboard lovingly.
‘You little beauty,’ he murmured. ‘With you I’m going to show that bastard, Knight, just how good a driver I am. It’s time he was taken down a peg or two.’ He started laughing until the tears ran down his cheeks.
Prior to the race the Southampton Evening Echo ran an article about the two local men who were entering. There was a picture of Sam and another of Jake Barton. The list of Sam’s successes far outweighed his opposition, which only enraged Jake more as he read it and fuelled the overwhelming hatred he felt for his rival.
Connie was delighted, of course, as she and her father read it together in the sitting room, discussing the young man, her father filled with admiration for his achievements. He passed the paper over to Madge to look at. She glanced at it briefly and just sniffed.
George looked at his daughter and winked. ‘Take no notice,’ he whispered.
John Baker, now living in a rented flat, also read the paper that evening as he ate his spaghetti on toast. He studied the features of the good-looking young man in the picture and was consumed with jealousy. Not only was he missing the comforts of home, but he was also missing the sexual excitement of his affair with Connie. Now this Lothario would be getting what he thought of as his.
His wife, Kay, had been to her solicitor and filed for divorce. He was now allowed to see his daughter on alternative weekends, which was heartbreaking for him, although she seemed to have accepted that he was now living elsewhere, and Kay – Kay was cold and businesslike when he called. In the hopes that he could stop the divorce going through and return to the marital home, he’d not caused any difficulty over finances; besides, he didn’t want his little girl to have to do without. He had taken Kay flowers on one occasion, but she’d refused them.
‘That isn’t necessary,’ she’d said. ‘The only thing I want from you is to meet my financial needs – nothing more.’
The weekend of the race, Kay was taking Susan away so he thought he’d go to Silverstone and watch, see what made this young chap so interesting. After all, he’d nothing else to do and these days his free time hung heavily, especially the weekend when he didn’t see his daughter.
Connie had taken a few days’ holiday time that was due to her to enable her to go with Sam to the race. Her parents were concerned about her going and staying overnight, until Sam called on them.
‘Thank you so much for letting Connie come with us,’ he said. ‘She’s part of the team now, a mascot, and we couldn’t possibly go without her.’ He looked at George. ‘Don’t worry, sir; I’ll take good care of her, as will my two men. She’ll be perfectly safe with us.’
‘And where will she be sleeping?’ Madge asked sharply.
Connie was mortified, but her father stepped in.
‘That’s enough from you, Mother, thank you!’ He shook Sam’s hand. ‘Good luck, young man. Take care on the track.’
Early on the following Saturday morning, Harry and Tom piled into the truck carrying the Riley and took off, closely followed by Sam and Connie on his motorcycle. It was a warm summer day and the weather forecast was good. They had all been praying for a dry track. Sam had explained how much more difficult it was when it was raining.
‘Sometimes you can’t see in front of you from the spray from the other cars, and that can be really frightening.’
She had pushed such a thought from her mind. She was worried enough about his safety as it was.
Although it was early when they arrived at Silverstone, it was already buzzing. Tr
ucks of all sizes were arriving with the race vehicles. Spectators were gathering early to make sure of a good viewing position. Marshals were wandering around doing their jobs; mechanics were attending to their own particular vehicle like mother hens around a favourite child. Officials were inspecting each car, making sure it adhered to the conditions of the entry.
Sam happened to glance up as Jake and his men drove in. Sam told his mechanics, and they watched as the Jaguar was unloaded.
Jake saw them watching and grinned to himself. Well, here it is, Knight, he thought. This is my revenge for all the other races where you beat me. Today is mine!
Connie was on edge. This race was different, she could tell. There was a charged atmosphere all around her. It was one long race. Twenty laps of the course, and there were more cars entered this time. She could feel her heart thumping as the day wore on and the time for the start drew neared. Sam and his mates were no longer jovial, they were there to win, and that was paramount in their minds. This was not the time for frivolity.
As the start grew nigh, Sam gathered Connie into his arms. ‘Give me a hug,’ he said. ‘Now, I don’t want you to worry, I’ll be fine. We’ll celebrate together tonight.’ He kissed her hard and long.
Eventually, the cars were to be driven on the track. Each taking their place on the grid, according to their place on the race winner’s table. Connie saw Jake was much further back than Sam, who was four cars from the front. She tucked her arm through Tom’s for comfort.
He glanced down at her and saw the concern on her face. ‘You have got to learn to relax, Connie, or you’ll be a basket case by the end!’
‘Don’t tell me you feel relaxed,’ she retorted, ‘I can feel the tension in you just holding your arm!’ They both laughed, which helped to relieve their feelings a little.
The drivers began revving their engines as the marshal stood holding the flag aloft. It dropped, and they were off!
Sam moved off quickly, threading his way through two cars in front of him, leaving Barton in his wake. Connie cheered loudly. She found herself stiffen when the car was out of sight on the other side of the track, but breathed a sigh of relief when Sam sped past the grandstand in third place.
