by Ivan B
Cameron wondered where this was leading. “Three, sitting room, bedroom and bathroom.”
She relaxed, “I’ve got four. Sitting room, bathroom, bedroom and a child’s bedroom.”
He got her drift. “You want me to sleep in there?”
She shook her head, “I will.”
“Is the bed made up?”
“No, but that’s no problem.”
She took him into the corridor, looked up and down and then opened the linen cupboard. Within a few minutes they’d made up a bed. He went back to his own suite and picked up a few bits and pieces, including his shaving tackle and clothes for the following day. He wondered about not playing a charade and sleeping in his own bed, fortunately he realised that option would raise so many questions from the others, and Angela, that it wasn’t even worth considering. On his way back to Riona’s suite (was it now their suite?) he passed Willow and Henry smooching outside her bedroom door, he tried not to smile and not to be envious of such an easy physical relationship. On his return he found that Riona had already changed for bed. Cameron tried to be the macho man. “Look this is your suite and I’ll be quite happy to…”
She placed a finger against his lips, “My privilege, besides it’s what I want, OK?”
He had to agree. She walked across the room and into the single bedroom. She paused, looked at him with tenderness in her eyes, and whispered, “It won’t always be like this,” before closing the door. Cameron sat on the edge of his bed for a long time thinking about the day, trying to analyse exactly what he felt, or did not feel, for Riona and pondering the future. With most of his reflections only leading to more questions he laid down well after Midnight. For some time he lay in bed looking at the light shining through the gap under Riona’s door, and to the just audible sound of somebody or other’s piano concerto drifting through the woodwork, wondering if he should go into her. Eventually tiredness made the decision for him for he fell asleep as he pondered. Likewise, for a long time after she retired to the tiny bedroom Riona watched the door. The romantic part of her wanted Cameron to come in and sweep her off of her feet, the emotionally damaged side wanted him to stay as far away as possible. However, just before she drifted off to sleep she realized that she had not, as was her usual practice, locked the door and placed a chair under the doorknob.
Treasa flashed George a smile as he turned the lights back on. He’d sat beside her on the settee for the whole film and not made one physical move. She knew that there could be two reasons for this, one; he did not fancy her and two; he did, but her diminutive size made it psychologically difficult. Four years ago a lighting engineer had started to take her out from time to time, eventually he dumped her in favour of the make-up artist. His rationale was simple, embracing her made him feel like a child molester. She stood up and smoothed her skirt down, “I’d better be getting back,” she purred. “They might lock me out.”
Disappointment flashed across his face. “If they do, I know a hundred ways of breaking in,” he quipped.
Willow and Henry eventually parted from their goodnight kiss and canoodle. Both of them knew that they were acting like a pair of love-struck teenagers and neither cared. Willow turned and put her hand on the door handle; the door opened. “Oh,” she said as if surprised, “I’d forgotten. If the door’s unlocked you can walk straight in!” She flashed him with a glint of her mischievous green eyes and a toothy smile before disappearing through the opened door.
Henry walked back to his suite, changed into his pyjamas, spent ten minutes thoroughly brushing his teeth and then sat down in an armchair. This was a defining moment. He reasoned he could do one of two things, maybe three. The invitation had been clear, go to her and cement their relationship. On the other hand he could not go to her, though this could possible end the relationship. The third way, to not go and continue as if he hadn’t heard the invitation was really a non-starter and he knew it. He thought long and hard. Did he want to wake up every day and see her toothy grin, thin frame and green mischievous eyes? Did he want to share his life with Willow or was the lure of going down the corridor one of mere sex? What did he actually feel for Willow? Had they given themselves enough time? Was it just an infatuation that would pass when they left this hothouse of a dating agency? He stretched out his legs, remembering that her legs were longer. He knew that some men would just go and sleep with Willow and ask questions afterwards, but that was not his style. He’d been brought up a Catholic and relationships were sacred. He pondered about trying to tell Willow that it was marriage first and sex after, but he knew their hormones were racing, their emotions stirred and the prospect of mutual coupling almost unbelievably exiting.The thoughts whirled in his mind and he sat, as if comatose, trying to make a decision; which was it, head or heart?
While he was thinking Gwen was padding down the corridor, but not towards Derek’s suite. She was dressed entirely in black; black jeans, black sweatshirt, black cotton gloves, black trainers, with the silver luminescent stripe blacked over, and a black bag-on-a-belt around her waist. She reached the staircase, listened and silently moved up the stairs. Once at the top she adopted a flat-foot walking mode to spread her weight and minimise floorboard creaking as she made her way along the corridor to the main office. She opened the office door and slipped inside to stand still and take in the layout. Fortunately it was a bright moonlit night and she could make out two desks, four filing cabinets and a large white board on which was scribbled: Ben/Riona 2:1 on, Derek/Willow 10:1, Henry/Roberta 20:1, Gwen/Anyone 250/1. She walked over and tried the first filing cabinet, it was locked. She fished a pencil beam torch and a magnifying glass out of her bag to study the code on the lock. She re-fished in her bag and brought out a small key; it did not work. Three master keys later the drawer glided open for her to purse her lips; it was not what she was looking for, this was the application files to the agency. She shut and locked the cabinet before trying the next-but one. This contained what she was looking for and she opened a few files, took some photographs with a neat digital camera and put them back. She then turned her attention to the computer on the second desk. She turned down the loudspeakers and turned it on. Once the password screen appeared she tried a few of the usual password, ‘Password,’ ‘Computer,’ ‘Access,’ and so on. All to no avail. She then tried ‘Soulmate’ followed by Minton and a couple of combinations. All to no avail. She sighed and tried ‘etamlous,’ the computer sprang into life. She extracted a small box from her bag and plugged its lead into one of the computer’s USB ports before starting to copy the entire contents of the data files. She sat back on her haunches to wait, after a minute she stood up, reopened the filing cabinet with the application files and extracted Derek’s file. She paused and then started to read it by the light of her torch. Towards the end she raised an eyebrow. She put the file back, disconnected her little box, carefully shut down the computer and padded back to her room. All in all it had been a successful mission, a very successful mission that she’d accomplished in just under an hour. However, she knew that her night’s work had just begun; she now had the files she wanted, she just had to analyse them.
As Gwen’s door closed nearby Henry came out of his reverie, he glanced into his bedroom to realise that he didn’t want to be alone any more and that he’d rather wake up to Willow than wake up to nobody. He briefly pondered if there was somebody better for him, perhaps his new secretary? He smiled, not in a million years, she didn’t have the eloquence of Willow, nor the poise, nor the… He laughed to himself, if he was comparing other women to Willow then she was the right women for him. He rose, padded down the corridor, hesitated outside Willow’s door and then entered. She was sitting in Chinese silk dressing gown with her long legs crossed and a delightful smile. “I hoped you’d come” She said.
As the door closed they started their long embrace.
Treasa, on the other hand, just longed for an embrace. George had been the perfect gentleman. He’d brought her back, opened the car door fo
r her and said goodnight. He hadn’t attempted to kiss her or for that matter try for any physical contact. She sat on the side of her bed and felt slightly miserable; she’d tried her best and once again failed to attract a man. “Doomed,” she said to herself, “Doomed to be alone.”
Chapter 23
The Morning After
Cameron was brought out of a deep and comfortable sleep by two almost simultaneous events. The first was a gentle knock at the door and the second was Riona, in a pair of pastel lilac silk pyjamas, scampering across the bedroom and throwing herself into bed beside him. She hissed into his surprised ear, “Say ‘come in!’”
He obliged and a young woman put her head around the bedroom door noted a sleepy Cameron and an eyes-closed Riona beside him. “Breakfast as ordered sir.”
The door closed and Riona’s eyes magically opened. Cameron slid his arm under Riona’s shoulders, “Well this is a nice surprise.”
She wriggled to get comfortable and inadvertently brought herself closer to him, “Under-stairs gossip,” she hissed. “In a place like this if they ever thought we slept apart they’d be running a sweepstakes on how long to a divorce.”
He enjoyed the warmth of her closeness, “I did wonder last night if…”
She wriggled slightly to rearrange the duvet over her feet and whispered, “When I’m ready I’ll come to you – promise.”
The matter settled they lay together in warm bliss and fell back to sleep.
Cameron woke first about an hour later, his awakening was caused by the screaming agony of his right arm which lay trapped under Riona’s surprisingly bony shoulders in much the same way fallen climbers lay trapped under disturbed boulders. He managed to extract his arm and massage it back into life without, he thought, disturbing Riona. He donned a lush white dressing gown that hung on the back of the door and padded into the sitting room where a hostess trolley with a steaming pot of coffee lay in wait. He poured himself a cup.
“Pour one for me,” came from the doorway as Riona emerged wearing a similar dressing gown. He dutifully poured out a second cup as Riona peered into the depths of the trolley and then extracted a plate of croissants and a pair of sandwiches. Cameron eyed the sandwiches, “What are they?”
“Bacon and fried egg, special order. They said treat the place like a five star hotel so I have, can’t stand communal breakfast”
Cameron shuddered at the thought of the sandwiches and helped himself to a croissant and sat down. Riona took a sandwich and sat beside Cameron on the settee, she tucked in almost immediately only briefly pausing to check that Cameron was happy with the croissants.
Once breakfast, which turned out to be a brief affair, was over Cameron poured himself a second cup of coffee (or was it his third?), “What’s on the agenda today?”
Riona licked her lips and then wiped her mouth on a paper napkin, “Goodness knows, the briefing papers we got just say ‘Bonding Questionnaire.’”
Cameron sipped the coffee and said softly, “I rather meant with us.”
She licked her teeth, removing a small fragment of bread from the left incisor. She looked out of the window into a far away place. “As far as my family is concerned it’s a waiting game regarding my father’s health.” She looked back to him and then performed her peculiar trick of instantly turning from a self-assured lady into an uncertain woman. She moved towards him, it could not have been more than a few millimetres since they were already sitting hip to hip, but the intention made Carson’s heart do funny things. She leant against him. “I know that ours isn’t a conventional marriage, we’ve sort of started the wrong way round, marriage first and getting to know each other second. There’s so much I want to tell you and I do want to be a MacLeod not a Hardcastle. Hardcastles are money-grabbing, overbearing and out for themselves, I don’t want to be a Hardcastle.”
Carson decided not to inform her just yet of some of the MacLeod clan history. “If that’s what you want.”
She turned her large deep blue eyes onto his; she swallowed, “It is. There’s been enough deceit and money grabbing in this family to last several lifetimes I want to start a new era and I want to try my best at our marriage. It didn’t start out that way, but when we kissed in church…”
Her eyes appealed for succour, he gave her shoulder a gentle massage. “I know, I felt it too. We’ve got a lifetime to talk to each other, let’s try to settle into some routine, well as much routine as this place allows.”
He thought a little, “Do you still want to carry on with the programme here? I mean we are married and if you want we could opt out.”
She bit her bottom lip, “What do you want?”
He massaged her shoulder again, “I just want to be with you.”
Her eyes mellowed, “You mean that?”
“Mean what?”
“That you want to be with me and that we have a lifetime to talk to each other.”
“I hope so, it’s what I said in church and I’ll do my best to be a good husband.” He made sure he had eye contact, “And I mean it when I say adultery is not on the agenda. Whatever has happened in your family you can trust me to be faithful to you.”
She leant forward and lightly kissed his cheek, it was to Carson as if he’d been caressed by a minor electric current. She withdrew before he could physically respond. They sat together in silence for a few minutes enjoying the proximity of each other and the view down to the trees. Riona stirred first, “We’d better get ready for action. I know it sounds silly that we continue the programme here now we are married, but I rather feel that it is a good way to get to know one another, besides…”
“Besides what?”
“Besides we’ve paid, and might as well get our money’s worth.”
He gazed into her eyes, “I fear I have far exceeded the expectations of my budget.”
For that he got another electrifying kiss on the cheek before she fled to the bathroom.
Willow woke up and felt the overwhelming desperate need for a cigarette that she experienced every morning. The patches were good during the day, but at night they just did not last long enough. She contemplated making a foray into the outside waste-bin as she turned over and spotted Henry. Memories of the previous night flooded her brain and she smiled. She had been so worried that her message might not be understood or that he might not want to come or that he would come and it would be a disaster. But none of that had happened, he had come and it certainly had not been a disaster. Thoughts of cigarettes temporarily disappeared from her brain to be replaced by the uncertainty of the immediate future. Did he regard this as a one night stand, as a notch in the bedpost? Did he have other plans, did he… She frowned, she was thinking along the wrong lines; what did she want. She gazed at him. She knew that she was besotted and that infatuations could be temporary. She was also a woman of the world, a thrice married woman of the world. She knew what she wanted, she wanted a partnership. She subconsciously twiddled her upper ear-ring; she wanted life long commitment, she wanted mar… She made herself pause. She’d been married three times, well to be legally accurate two times, and marriage had brought her nothing but misery, would a fourth be any better?
Her thoughts were dissipated by Henry opening his eyes. She watched disorientation, bewilderment and realisation pass across them. He smiled, “Morning gorgeous,”
His hand popped up from under the duvet and he ran his fingers down her arm, it caused an explosion of emotions within her. She rolled forward and kissed him. “We could go for breakfast, or…”
He kissed back, “I’ll choose the ‘or,’”
Their bodies met in a mutual explosion of joy. Day begun as night had finished.
Angela swept regally into the breakfast room to be confronted by only four people. Treasa she knew was a write-off as far as the agency was concerned, she’d half expected Riona and Cameron not to be there, after all they were married, but the non-appearance of Willow and Henry was a surprise. She sat down, “This morning we…”
She drummed her fingers on the armchair, “Since morning coffee does not seem to be on the usual agenda for this group none will be provided today, however there are small kitchenettes at both ends of the first floor and if you would like some you can make your own.”
Riona thwacked her sandals together, today’s pair, which were constructed just like every other pair she wore, had brown straps to match her brown toenails. “Well I’d like coffee in here.”
“Sounds a good idea to me,” Chorused Gwen.
“Hmm, better than making our own.” Agreed Roberta.
“And biscuits,” Added Riona, “Nice handmade biscuits.”
Angela left, muttering darkly about people not making their minds up, as Riona scooped up two felt bags and tossed them to Gwen and Roberta. Without a word the other two couples left and Riona dropped down into a settee next to Cameron. She fished about in the bag and pulled out a domino. She squinted at it and then laughed, “You’ll have to read the damn thing, haven’t got my contacts in.”
Cameron’s bushy eyebrows twitched, “You wear contact lenses?”
“Don’t say you haven’t noticed?”
He shook his head as she passed him the oblong wooden tile. He glanced at it and groaned, “The subject is in-laws and the question is ‘Would your partner embarrass your family or would they be an embarrassment to you?”
