Dishonest woman

by Jessica Steele

  `He married me.' She knew all Doreen's concern was for her, but she was beginning to feel a mite offended. `Yes, but for how long?'

  `I . . .' Kimberley couldn't find an answer.

  She had thought herself many times that she couldn't wait until the day came when they would be divorced—but that was before she had spent last night alone, and had missed Slade. And now she wasn't sure about anything anymore. But there was no time then to do any sorting out in her mind, for Doreen was looking at her with very sad eyes, seeming to be

  fighting a battle within herself, then suddenly she was saying:

  `Kim—nobody around here knows this, but my marriage to Edward is not my first marriage.'

  `You've been married before!'

  She was as much surprised by the revelation as she was that Doreen had so suddenly forgotten the deep concern she had felt at returning from holiday to find her married to Slade. That was until Doreen went on, and doubts began to creep in then that she had forgotten nothing.

  Tor eight years I was married to a wife-cheating womaniser. I suppose deep down I still feel pain from it—that's why I never talk of it,' she said. 'I just didn't have the least suspicion that his absences from home were for business other than the business he told me. I hadn't a clue until I found out differently that all the lies I swallowed so innocently were the lies they were. I felt ashamed when everything at last did click into place, of the many times I'd rushed to greet him and fuss over him. I felt defiled when I thought of the times I'd welcomed him to my bed when he came back from his "business trips".'

  The quick sympathy that had risen in Kimberley at the outset was numbed when Doreen had finished speaking. 'You're hinting that Slade will start to do the same, aren't you?' She brought out what her intelligence had seen, remembering all too easily that she and Slade hadn't been married a week when she had thought he had been finding solace elsewhere. He hadn't left her overnight since, but her confidence in her ability to hold a man was not very high, so she just had to take note of what Doreen was saying.

  `I was the last to know about my first husband,' Doreen said unhappily. 'I just can't stand by and watch you suffer the way I suffered.'

  `You think Slade will soon get tired of me?' Kimberley asked solemnly.

  `Oh, Kim, I don't mean to be unkind, believe me I don't,' Doreen mourned. 'But if I was wrong about Slade going in for a speedy divorce, it's best you know now rather than go on for years and years living in the same cloud cuckoo land that I did.' She looked away, her caring soul unable to witness any pain her words might evoke, as she said, 'I'm afraid, love, he already has.'

  `Has?' Kimberley's eyes shot wide.

  And glancing at her, in a hurry now to tell her quickly and get it all said, Doreen told her, 'Edward and I flew in yesterday to the foulest weather. We were lucky, all flights after ours were diverted—to somewhere in Scotland, I think. Anyway, Edward said it was ludicrous for us to think of driving home in such conditions, so we booked into a hotel.'

  Kimberley knew the crunch was coming and braced herself. 'And?' she bravely prompted.

  `Well, we'd just finished dinner and were out of the dining room when I realised I hadn't got my lighter. Edward offered to go back for it, but I didn't see why he should—my concession to him not liking the way I puff away like a chimney. Anyway, I was just going out of the dining room again, my lighter retrieved, when tucked away in a corner I saw Slade.'

  A feeling of sickness hit Kimberley even before she had the answer to her question, 'With a woman?'

  Doreen nodded. 'I didn't know then that he was married to you. I remember I smiled to myself thinking "Trust Slade to be dining with the best looking woman in the room!" So she was beautiful Kimberley, thought dully. 'I was just about to go trolling over with a "long time no see" type of remark, when suddenly the woman burst out laughing at something he said, and from the adoring way she looked up at him, from the way they were enjoying each other's company, I knew that not only was the evening not going to end there—a person would have to be thicker than thick

  not to see that, even without knowing Slade's reputation—I knew also that my presence would most definitely be de trop.'

  Kimberley didn't see any reason to question any of what she had said. Now she wanted nothing more than that Doreen should go. She felt sullied already when she recalled that intimate "darling" Slade had breathed over the phone last night, and was growing furious with herself that she had for one single moment thought that tonight she would be intimating she had adjusted to having him as her husband. Fury battled with sickness as she visualised him using that same intimate 'darling' to the beautiful woman who had shared last night with him.

  `Thank you for telling me,' she said, and knowing it hadn't been easy for Doreen, 'I appreciate how difficult it was for you.'

  `What will you do?' Doreen asked.

  `I'll think of something,' she said, forcing a smile up from the soles of her feet.

  And think she did. All afternoon her mind went backwards and forwards over the same theme. Each word Doreen had uttered was repeated over and over in her mind, so that by the time it came for Slade to walk in through the door, there was nothing in her of the girl who had chatted so easily on the phone to him the night before.

  Of a certainty she knew Slade Darville was going to have a very long wait if he still felt that desire for her body that had spurred him into marrying her.

  That Bramcote was no longer hers disturbed her greatly, but since he had told her—and strangely, she still had trust in him about the house—that Bramcote would always be her home, then she still had her beloved Bramcote. She realised she would have to put up with him living in it too until such time as he got fed up with the situation and moved out. Perhaps they could write a fresh contract whereby she gave him his

  money back? That was all vague and in the future, but one thing was for sure, she would be sleeping at the Rose and Crown on Monday night—where Slade laid his head was immaterial to her.

  She heard his car, thought it would be so much better, if she could act, barring when he came to bed, as though Doreen's visit had never been.

  But one look at his warm look as he breezed in, without the softly intimate, 'Hello, darling,' had her knowing she had to kill that look in his eye dead, before he went any farther.

  `Have you eaten?' she asked him coldly.

  `Shall I go out and come in again?' he asked, his voice teasing, her tone not lost on him. 'I think you must be confusing me with some other feller.'

  `Go out and not come in at all would suit me very nicely,' she retorted acidly, and saw from the way his eyes narrowed that her message had reached him loud and clear.

  `So what happened in between five o'clock last night and now?'

  `Nothing,' she said carelessly. But she should have known by now he wouldn't let her get away with that.

  `Nothing?' he repeated, his eyes steady on her. Nothing—in the shape of what?'

  `I'll leave you to cook something,' Kimberley said. `I've things to do upstairs.'

  She nearly made it out into the hall too. Only before she could congratulate herself on escaping, Slade's hands were on her shoulders, and he was steering her into the living room.

  `How many times, Kimberley,' he said, swinging her round so he could see into her face, his expression harsh, 'do I have to tell you not to go around bottling things up?' Her set look had little effect on him, as he told her brusquely, 'Get it out of your system,' and then as wilfully she stared back, his expression softened. 'Am I such a brute that you can't tell

  me what's happened to bring about the change?' He gave her arm a small tug. 'We've shared confidences before, haven't we? Can you no longer talk to me, Kim?'

  It infuriated her that he should remind her of even the smallest confidence. Angrily she shrugged out of his hold, her anger making her tongue unwary. She had not the slightest intention of letting him know anything about Doreen Gilbert's call that day.

  `There's
absolutely nothing to talk about,' she snapped. But should I at any time have anything I want to confide in someone, then it wouldn't be to you!' And growing angrier, 'I have truer—friends—I would far rather confide in!'

  A grim look came to Slade at her words. 'I thought you trusted me,' he grated, his coaxing tone gone.

  She saw a look come to him then that convinced her his brain was ticking over. Though he could puzzle at it from now till Christmas and he still wouldn't come up with the right answer, she was convinced of that too. Though that conviction dipped a little when thoughtfully, slowly, he said:

  `I saw Edward Gilbert today.' And, surprising her with a sharp look, 'Did you know that Doreen, the dear lady who warned you about me, if I remember correctly, has returned to Amberton?'

  Kimberley's face gave her away, she knew it. She saw from Slade's expression he knew the answer before the 'Yes' she couldn't hide was forced from her. 'She came over,'

  `And promptly got stuck into laying down the poison.'

  `I've always found her to be truthful,' said Kimberley, ready for an argument, only to find the wind taken from her sails when Slade agreed:

  `So have I.' And while she was remarshaling her forces, 'Though if you're going to hang me, I do think I have a right to know what's been said.'

  He could go and take a running leap, was her first reaction, and her expression said as much. But Slade wasn't running anywhere. He was not moving. He was staying put—was waiting. Fairness prodded at her— and something akin to hope.

  That was until she remembered that Doreen just wouldn't lie to her. And Slade was still waiting. He would follow her and finish this discussion upstairs if need be—she had learned that much about him.

  `Do you deny,' she asked at last, 'that you dined with a beautiful woman last night?'

  If she had expected him to be shamefaced in any way that he had been caught out, then Kimberley was doomed to disappointment. Straight away he was on the attack, his look harsh, as he slammed at her:

  `I thought you trusted me?'

  `Do you deny it,' she pressed. Even with their marriage a non-starter, since he had demanded fairness before being hanged, she was determined to hear it from his own lips.

  Then she had cause to wonder what thought had occurred to him, for suddenly he was smiling. Smiling and looking so pleased with himself that she felt sick again as she no longer wondered what thought had touched him. Her challenging him, bringing to his mind his beautiful table companion, had reminded him of his enjoyment spent with that companion. And it was her turn to wait. But she didn't need the confirmation he stopped smiling long enough to own up to.

  `No,' he said, with no sign of regret, 'I cannot deny my companion of last evening was a beautiful woman,' and that pleased look about him again. 'She was, in fact, a very beautiful woman.'

  Kimberley slept badly that night. And it didn't do anything to help the irritability that awakened with her when she went downstairs and saw Slade, on the point of leaving, still looking as pleased with himself as he had when she had turned from him, and he had let her

  Is

  go, after he had admitted he had spent the night with a very beautiful woman.

  `Going to send your husband off to work with a kiss?' he asked with some charm.

  A sharp retort of 'Go to hell' came near the surface, but she bit it back. 'Only if you're promising not to come back,' she said, sugar dripping—and felt better when she saw that had taken some of the arrogance out of him. Though his voice had a fair amount of honey in it too as he bade her goodbye with:

  `Don't push it, sweetheart—you might get lucky!'

  Bigheaded swine! she thought the moment the door had closed, and wondered what it was about him that, even in her irritation, his smart reply had her lips wanting to twitch.

  Doreen rang during the morning inviting her for coffee. And had Kimberley thought their conversation over coffee could be kept strictly to talk about her friend's holiday, then she would have loved to have accepted. But although she liked Doreen more than ever because over the phone she didn't refer to her visit yesterday, but settled for a troubled, 'Are you all right, Kim?' she thought it best to refuse.

  `I'm fine,' she said sunnily. 'Will you let me off coffee today?' And hurrying on before Doreen could get a word in, she explained about the builders coming in on Monday, and the work they had to do, telling her about curtains that had to be taken down, about furniture that wasn't going to be moved out that had to be covered in dust-sheets.

  `You're staying at Bramcote while all this work is being done?' Doreen asked, her mind safely taken away from her concern for her, Kimberley thought.

  But she saw then that to tell her she intended seeking a bed at the Rose and Crown would have Doreen offering to have her stay with her for however long it took until she could move back into her home. She hated lying to her, but didn't have time to think up

  anything tactful that would ensure her feelings weren't hurt.

  `We're moving to Slade's place in London,' she said, presenting herself with a problem of sometime contacting Doreen and telling her she had decided against London.

  `I see,' said Doreen slowly. And from that thoughtful `I see' Kimberley saw she had taken it that she was going to disregard what she had told her yesterday.

  Kimberley came away from the phone wondering why she hadn't told Doreen that Slade had brazenly owned up that he had spent the night with his beautiful companion.

  It couldn't be that she felt some sort of loyalty to him, could it? she wondered, her brow wrinkling. Her brow cleared as she scoffed at the idea. Yet as the day wore on into the afternoon she was frowning again as the realisation came that to further blacken Slade's name by telling Doreen anything of what had passed between them last night was something she just could not do.

  Now why should it bother her what anyone thought of him? An hour later she discovered just exactly why—and never had she thought to receive such a shock.

  She had been clearing out upstairs, when around three, and for the umpteenth time, she made yet another trip outside to the dustbin. Why she looked up at the gate just then she didn't know—probably attracted by the sound of someone talking, she later thought. But she did look, and as her stomach knotted up, she kept on looking, couldn't take her eyes from the gate. For the man who a year ago had written and told her he had fallen in love with someone else, had asked her to release him from their engagement, was coming through it!

  Colour surged to her face as vaguely she registered old Sammy, a bundle of assorted pieces of wood under

  his arm denoting that he had been wood-gathering, passing by the hedge an unusual gleeful look on his face. That gleeful look told her since David never spoke to him, that he must have made some comment to David that delighted him to have made.

  Her cheeks were pale by the time David reached her. He was in civilian clothes, but his military bearing that she had so loved was obvious.

  `David,' she said, collecting herself and holding out her hand.

  He smiled, that familiar smile she knew and had loved. She waited for her heart to flip the way it always did when he smiled—but nothing happened.

  `Hello, precious,' he said, but that 'precious', that at one time would have thrilled her, now left her cold. `How are you?' he asked, a familiar seductive note there as he leant forward and aimed a kiss at her mouth. His kiss landed on her cheek, because just at that moment Kimberley moved.

  The imprint of his lips still warm on her cheek, she was dazed to find it had aroused not one iota of emotion in her. She wasn't even angry that after so long an absence he could calmly come to her home and act so familiarly. I'm indifferent to him! she thought, and was shattered at the truth of that thought. She stared at him, at the smiling handsome features of the man it seemed impossible now she had nearly had a nervous breakdown over.

  `I'm fine—fine,' she said, gathering her wits together.

  `I should have telephoned you before coming,' said David, smilin
g again as though never for a moment doubting she would welcome him any time he chose to call. 'I can see my arriving out of the blue has shaken you.' He smiled again and looked towards the door, clearly expecting to be invited in.

  `Why did you come?' she asked, not moving.

  `A couple of reasons,' he said. 'I haven't been home

  for some time, as you probably know.' His conceit surprised her. She had never thought him conceited before. But clearly he was of the opinion she had spies out the whole of the time logging his movements and reporting back to her. 'This is the first chance I've had to come over and tell you how very, very sorry I was to hear about your father.'

  If he was so very sorry, a letter saying as much wouldn't have hurt him, Kimberley found herself thinking. But so indifferent did she feel towards him, it seemed too much trouble to mention it.

  Since he didn't seem in any hurry to go, and not wanting him inside her home, unconcerned whether he thought her ill-mannered or not, she sought round for something to say—a clear indication that one or other of them had changed a great deal this last year, or that they had never had very much in common anyway. She had never had to try to make conversation with him before!

  `Let's go into the orchard,' he suggested, when he saw no invitation inside the house was forthcoming.

  `Why not?' she shrugged, moving away from him.

  She felt absolutely nothing for him. She realised she would much sooner have his room than his company, and wished—wished Slade was here. Her thoughts faltered. Slade, Slade would—Slade would tell him where to get off. A riot started inside her as she realised just how protected she felt with Slade. But it—it wasn't just that. She swallowed, saw David had halted at the exact spot he had once proposed, and she had not even noticed it.

  She saw he had observed the way she had swallowed and knew he had misread the reason for it, but was so shocked by the revelation that had just come to her that his over-confident smile barely registered.

  More than ever she didn't want him here. She wanted, needed, to be by herself. She had to be by herself to try to deny what she knew to be so unmistakably true!