by June Tate
Connie felt her stomach tighten as they drove away. What was John’s game? He’d left her alone for so long that she thought she had made him back off, but now … She could feel the tension in her body as she fretted about the situation.
The tension was still there as later, in bed, Sam took her into his arms and kissed her. He looked puzzled. ‘Hey! What’s the matter? You’re tighter than a spring.’
‘It’s just been such a hectic day in the store,’ she lied. ‘You know, the pre-Christmas rush.’
‘Well, we’ll have to see what I can do about that.’
But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t release the tension, and eventually Connie pushed him gently away. ‘I’m sorry; I guess I’m just not in the mood.’
Sam chuckled softly. ‘You don’t have a headache, I suppose?’
She saw the humour and smiled. ‘No, I don’t, I’m just weary, that’s all.’
He lay back on his pillow, one arm around her. ‘It’s that bloke, isn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘Well, ever since you saw me talking to your manager you’ve been different. You closed up. It was like sitting beside an ice cube. What is it about him that makes you feel like that?’
Connie was startled. She had to choose her words carefully now or this conversation could become dangerous.
‘I just don’t like him. He’s not an easy man to work for. He can be very demanding, and he has made my life difficult sometimes if he’s thought I’ve not been doing something right. Tonight he was trying to be charming. It didn’t wash with me, that’s all.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, that’s understandable. But you know, Connie, in the workplace you have to do your job, which means you don’t always make friends.’
‘Are you defending him?’ She was angry.
‘Hey! Steady, I’m on your side, sweetheart, always. Just making an observation.’
She snuggled into him. ‘I don’t want to talk about him, all right?’
He cuddled her and laughed. ‘I get the message. Now, go to sleep, perhaps you’ll feel better in the morning.’
During the Sunday, Connie tried to keep her thoughts of Baker at bay. She played her part well, and they enjoyed lunch out by the Hamble River and the drive through the surrounding country before returning to the flat, sitting in front of the small television Sam had rented, until it was time for bed. This time she was relaxed enough to respond to his love-making, but as she lay in his arms after, listening to his soft breathing as he slept, she wondered just what was waiting for her on the morrow, back in the store. John Baker had surfaced again, and that meant danger to her relationship with Sam.
On Monday morning, Sam drove Connie to work. ‘I don’t know what’s on this week at the garage,’ he said. ‘I have a car coming in this morning, and it needs a lot of work done on it. When I’m free, I’ll either meet you from work or call round and let you know.’ He kissed her goodbye and opened the car door for her.
Connie hung up her coat, combed her hair and entered the store. She and Betty tidied their goods, dusting the display ready for the first customer. She saw John across the department floor watching her.
At the end of the day, Connie walked through the staff door with a sigh of relief. But as she turned the corner, Baker, hidden in the dark, grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
‘Nice chap, your boyfriend. The trusting type, I would think.’
‘Don’t start that all over again!’ she retorted.
He laughed. ‘I got my divorce papers today. My wife is suing me for adultery. She’s named you as correspondent!’
‘What?’ Connie suddenly felt nauseous.
‘What do you think your boyfriend will think of that? All local divorces are written up in the Echo. He won’t like that. His friends will taunt him about it no doubt when they read about it. His sweet innocent lady friend, named and shamed.’
‘What proof has she?’ demanded Connie. ‘She can’t name anyone without proof!’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe she found out about us going to Bournemouth. We were registered as Mr and Mrs Baker, after all.’
She glared at him. ‘You’re loving this, aren’t you? You can’t bear to think of me in the arms of another man. A much better man than you will ever be!’
He was outraged.
She cried out as John grasped her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her through her coat. ‘Is he better in bed than me? Does he make you beg him to take you – as I did?’
Her rage knew no bounds. ‘Yes, and yes again! He’s a wonderful lover, and he really loves me! He doesn’t just want me for sex like you did.’
His cruel laugh echoed. ‘That’s what all men say to get what they want. I said it to you, and you believed me.’
Connie tried to calm down. ‘I was younger then, but I’ve learned to tell between lies and the truth. You see, I trust Sam. I never really trusted you.’
‘Then why did you meet me so often and come to Bournemouth with me?’
‘Oh, to begin with I was flattered. I enjoyed being kissed and made a fuss of, and I planned to lose my virginity and you happened to be around at the time.’
He looked at her with astonishment. ‘You are very calculating, Connie, which I must say surprises me.’
‘Well, John, you made me grow up rather quickly, and I suppose I should thank you for that. You taught me all I know about sex. You were a good teacher. In that, I was lucky; it could have been someone who wasn’t so well practised in seduction.’
He was at a loss as to how to handle this change in his former lover. ‘You have changed almost beyond recognition,’ was his only comment.
‘No. Just grown up. Don’t think for one moment what you’ve told me about your divorce will change things between us, John. I won’t be unfaithful to Sam, no matter what you try and throw at me. But be very careful, because I could destroy you if I had a mind to.’
As she walked away, she hoped that now he would stop interfering in her life, but the news of his divorce had shaken her. The only concrete proof his wife could have of her being part of her husband’s infidelity was if she’d discovered their stay in Bournemouth. How could she possibly know about that? Was he bluffing? If he wasn’t and it all came out in the local press, what affect would it have on Sam? Should she confess to him about her relationship with John Baker or wait? She didn’t know what to do for the best.
Eleven
Unaware of the chaos her divorce papers were causing her ex-husband, Kay Baker had taken control of her new life. Susan was now attending nursery school all day, and Kay had secured a part-time job in an office, thankful she’d kept up her typing skills at home. With the maintenance being paid by John for his daughter and the mortgage covered by him – for the moment – the extra money she earned paid for the treats.
Now that she had a job, she was beginning to have a social life. The office of one of the council departments in the Civic Centre was a busy place, dealing with the paperwork required by various divisions incurring works on public and council buildings. It was interesting, and her colleagues were a friendly bunch. A Christmas party was looming, and Kay had been persuaded to go and let Susan sleep over at her grandmother’s house for the Saturday evening. Her mother had been enthusiastic for Kay to start enjoying herself.
‘Of course we’ll have Susan,’ she said when asked. ‘It’s time for you to get out and meet people socially. Find yourself a good man this time!’
‘Oh, Mum! I’m just about to get my divorce, and believe me, I’m not looking for another husband just yet.’
‘Who said anything about getting married?’ said her mother archly.
Kay looked at her in surprise. ‘What are you saying then?’
‘Go and have some fun. Make sure the man takes precautions, that’s all.’
Kay started to laugh. ‘That’s not what I expect my mother to say.’
Joan Thomas slowly sipped her tea. ‘I’ve been married to your father for forty-two year
s. He’s the only man I’ve ever known, in the biblical sense.’
Kay wondered what on earth was coming.
‘I love him, you know I do, he’s a dear, but sometimes I wonder just how it would have felt to be loved by someone else.’
‘Mother!’ Frowning, she asked, ‘Are you sorry you married Dad?’
‘Good heavens, no! But if I had my time over, I’d certainly have had a bit of fun before I settled down.’
‘Good God, Mum, in your day you’d have been termed a loose woman.’
It was Joan’s turn to laugh. ‘Maybe, but I would have lived instead of wondering. Since the war, the laws of morality have changed. Sadly, I was born too soon.’
Kay looked askance at her mother. ‘Just as well after what you’ve just been telling me. Don’t you start putting ideas into Susan’s head when she’s here!’
‘As if I would! Anyway, by the time she grows up, it will have all changed again.’
The office party was being held at the Polygon Hotel. There was to be a reception, followed by dinner and dancing until midnight. Cocktail dresses and lounge suits were the order of the day. Kay had bought a brown chiffon dress with a swathed bodice, from a boutique in the town. It was fitted, low cut, with thin straps. She had looked at herself in the mirror of the dressing room in the shop and been thrilled at her reflection. Was it a bit too glamorous for an office do? Oh, what the hell, she thought – and paid the bill. Then she bought a pair of bronze evening shoes to wear with it and a light beige shawl, with a hint of gold sparkle, to wear around her shoulders.
On the night of the party, she stepped out of the taxi and entered the hotel, her heart beating wildly. This was her first proper outing since John had moved out, and she was distinctly nervous walking in alone. She entered the bar where the reception was held, pulling the shawl across her bosom, suddenly feeling somewhat naked.
Seeing two of her colleagues with whom she’d become very friendly at work, Kay walked over to them. At least with them she felt at ease. They were standing with two gentlemen who they introduced as their husbands, but somehow they seemed less than friendly, which puzzled Kay, until one of them placed an arm possessively through her husband’s. Then it dawned on her. She was now single, and these women saw her as a threat. It was a ‘keep off the grass’ sign, which Kay thought was insidious. She made her excuses and moved away.
The barman smiled and handed her a glass of champagne. Sitting on a bar stool, she gazed around the room, wishing she’d stayed at home. Taking out a cigarette she searched for her lighter. Beside her a gentleman lit his and held it out to her.
‘Thank you,’ she said as she looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
‘My pleasure.’ The voice was low, cultured and mellifluous. The man was tall, well dressed in a navy suit, pale blue shirt and striped tie, with dark hair, slightly greying at the temples. She wondered who he was and what he was doing there. To her he was a complete stranger.
‘Edward Harrington,’ he said, holding out his hand.
Shaking it, she replied, ‘Kay Baker.’
Glancing at her wedding ring he asked, ‘Are you waiting for your husband, Mrs Baker?’
Shaking her head she said, ‘No, Mr Harrington, I’m separated, waiting for a divorce, as it happens.’
‘Then this is my lucky night.’ His smile was inviting, and Kay felt a frisson of excitement as she looked at him.
‘What brings you here tonight?’ she enquired.
‘Duty,’ he said somewhat ruefully. ‘I work for the department. To be honest I hate these affairs, however I have to make an appearance. And you?’
She explained where she worked. ‘I was persuaded to come along. I think it was a big mistake.’
He chuckled. ‘I saw you when you arrived and the way you were frozen out of that little group over there.’ He nodded towards the foursome she’d approached earlier. ‘Mind you, I’m not surprised – you look incredible.’
She felt her cheeks flush.
He ordered them both another glass of champagne. ‘Now, Mrs Baker, how about we put aside our reluctance to be here and join forces? Together we could turn the whole thing around and enjoy ourselves. What do you say?’
Kay glanced across the room and saw her friends watching her with interest. ‘Why not? I think it could be great fun.’
‘Excellent!’ He held up his glass. ‘To a good night, Mrs Baker!’
Holding her glass up for the toast she said, ‘In which case, call me Kay.’
‘Lovely name … I’m Edward.’
At that moment Kay’s boss approached. ‘Good evening, Mr Harrington,’ he said. ‘Would you like to join our table for dinner?’
His tone of deference surprised Kay. This man was usually overbearing and full of confidence.
‘That’s very thoughtful of you, James, but Mrs Baker and I have other plans. But thank you for your kindness. Don’t let us keep you from your friends.’
Thus dismissed, the man walked away. Edward summoned the barman and asked to see the head waiter. When he arrived, Edward asked him to save a table for two in the dining room when dinner was served.
‘Of course, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?’
‘Yes, there is.’ Edward asked for a bottle of champagne to be put on ice and placed on the table.’
Kay was amused by the whole procedure. ‘It would seem, Edward, that you are someone of importance, from the service you’re getting here.’
He grinned at her. ‘My position does afford me some privileges, I suppose. I try not to abuse it, but it does come in handy at times, I must confess.’
‘Perhaps you should enlighten me before we dine?’
‘Absolutely not! It would spoil the mystery. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company.’
At that moment the announcement came that dinner was served.
It gave Kay a perverse pleasure to be led into the dining room on the arm of such a handsome man. She smiled at her two colleagues as she passed them, trying not to appear triumphant.
The evening was a great success. Her companion was a good conversationalist and amusing, and after a sumptuous meal they danced the evening away. Kay was enjoying every moment, until midnight, when it ended.
‘I feel a bit like Cinderella,’ she said as they walked towards the reception. ‘I must get the concierge to book me a taxi.’
‘Nonsense! My driver will drop you off before he takes me home.’ He led her outside towards a sleek car. The driver got out and held the door open.
‘Thank you, Jake. Now, Kay, where do you live?’
It was Christmas Eve. In the town, the inhabitants, collars turned up against the cold, were dashing about with last-minute shopping. Butchers were hoping to sell the last of the turkeys, Christmas trees were being loaded on to cars, and Connie and the staff at Tyrell and Greens were rushed off their feet. At the close of day, she and Betty made their weary way to the staff room where they exchanged gifts before making their way home.
‘What’s Sam getting you, do you know?’ Betty asked.
‘I have no idea. I’ve bought him a jumper and some aftershave. He’s coming to Christmas dinner and on Boxing Day; we are going to his parents for lunch.’
‘Oh my! You’ve not met them yet, have you?’
‘No,’ said Connie with a grimace. ‘I’m really nervous. They live in Poole, so we’ll be driving there in the morning. There shouldn’t be too much traffic on the road. Gosh, I hope they like me.’
Betty gave her a hug. ‘Stop worrying, you’ll be fine. Happy Christmas, Connie.’
‘Same to you. See you in three days. Don’t drink too much!’
On her way home, that Christmas Eve, Connie walked past all the shops with their brightly coloured windows, still full of festive gifts, knowing that immediately after the holiday the January sales would begin and life would be hectic in the preparation before – and then the sales themselves. But until then, she would enjoy the break. She only hoped tha
t her grandmother would make the effort to be in a festive frame of mind.
She need not have worried. Her mother had been having the same thought, and on the previous evening, when she’d been gathering all the food needed over the holiday, she’d spoken to her mother-in-law.
‘Now, Connie’s boyfriend is coming on Christmas Day, and I insist that you behave!’
‘What ever do you mean?’ Madge was outraged.
‘You know damned well what I mean. I will not put up with your cantankerous ways, especially then. We don’t want any doom and gloom. I want to be able to enjoy Christmas! After all, it’s a lot of work for me.’ She glared at Madge. ‘As you well know, I have to do it all by myself, because you never lift a finger to help.’
‘Well, really!’
Dorothy was feeling tired and had no patience left. ‘Mess up my Christmas and you’ll be sent packing off to Eve’s to stay, understand?’
‘Perfectly. I think you are being most unkind!’
Dorothy didn’t even bother to answer, there was too much to do, but when her husband came home on Christmas Eve she spoke to him about Madge.
‘I want you to promise me you’ll keep your mother in order on Christmas Day,’ she said.
He looked a little surprised at her outburst.
‘You needn’t look like that, you know what she’s like, but Sam will be joining us, and if she misbehaves I’ll never forgive her!’
George put an arm around his wife’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. ‘Relax, love. I know she can be a pain, and I am so grateful to you for putting up with her, but I promised Dad.’
With a sigh she said, ‘I know, and you feel it’s your duty, but sometimes I could throttle the old devil!’
He started laughing. ‘My father often felt the same!’
‘What a pity he didn’t do so!’ Then she turned to her husband. ‘I’m sorry, George, I didn’t mean that, I’m just so tired and there’s a lot to do.’
He gathered her into his arms. ‘I know. Now tell me what needs doing.’
‘There’s the potatoes to peel, the vegetables to prepare, the turkey to be stuffed, mince pies to be made and—’
