She was totally silent.
Suddenly, he made a move towards her, so quickly she was taken unawares and caught offguard. Before she could utter a word of protest, or run, his arms were around her and he was pressing her tightly against his tall, lean body. ‘Oh Glynnis, Glynnis,’ he whispered hoarsely, and then kissed the hollow of her neck, her cheeks, and finally his mouth found hers.
Against her will she responded ardently; she kissed him back and clung to him, murmured his name, and she suddenly felt him harden against her thigh. He wanted her. She wanted him. And for a moment she nearly gave in, gave way, almost pulled him into the bedroom, to her bed.
But she did not. With enormous resolve she pushed him away gently, and a sob caught in her throat.
‘Oh darling, please,’ he begged, his eyes riveted on hers; they were twin reflections of his own, not only in their colour but the overwhelming desire raging there.
‘No, Robin, no.’
‘Yes, Glynnis, yes.’
Shaking her head, walking to the door on trembling legs, she turned and looked at him intently. ‘Please, you must go.’
‘There’s a phone number for Edwina’s mews,’ he reminded her. ‘Please phone me between twelve and twelve-thirty if you’re not coming.’
She was silent.
When he stopped at the door, he added softly, ‘You must let me know if you’re not coming. Promise?’
All she had the strength to do was nod.
After he left she lay on the bed in the dark, thinking about him, thinking what a narrow escape she had had. She had almost succumbed to his charms, and where would she have been then? Not only hating herself for running back to him the moment he beckoned, but guilt-ridden as well for sleeping with him. Richard was a good man, and he had been good to Owen; she knew he loved her, with great devotion. She loved him back, in her own way, and she had tried to be a good wife, was as devoted as he was as a husband. She had been a good mother to Owen, perhaps that most of all.
Robin, oh Robin…how I love you…how I want you. Close in my arms… She began to cry, the tears running down her cheeks and she wept and wept until she thought there were no tears left.
The weekend passed without any further incident. Robin didn’t drop in to see his mother again, and Glynnis was shocked at herself when she realized she was disappointed.
After chastising herself quietly, and muttering under her breath that she was a grown woman, not a silly teenager, Glynnis did manage to shake that feeling off. She made a supreme effort to be her normal, cheerful self and eventually she succeeded.
She had always got on well with Emma: they were extremely compatible, both being positive by nature, and optimistic. Glynnis had never had any difficulties communicating with her and she was able to chat to her about anything in the world, as was Emma to her.
They talked about many things over breakfast together on Sunday morning, and also when they took Owen for a walk before lunch. He ran ahead of them to the pond, shouting that he was going to feed the ducks, and they both smiled indulgently. Owen was in his element, that was obvious. All morning he ran and jumped, laughed and chatted to them both, and Glynnis was gratified to see the look of approval in Emma’s eyes.
At one moment her former employer turned to her and exclaimed, ‘He’s such a lovely little boy, Glynnis, you’ve done a good job with him. I hope you’ll bring him to England next year, and spend a little time with me, as well as going to see your family in Wales.’
‘I hope I can come, Mrs Harte. I know my mother’s anxious I bring Owen to the Rhondda next year…We’ll see.’
Emma sighed, and unexpectedly said in a wistful tone, ‘I do miss you, Glynnis. You were my friend you know, not only my secretary, when you worked for me during the war. I’ve always been so very fond of you, and now…well, he is my grandson…If things had worked out differently, you would have been my daughter-in-law.’
Glynnis merely nodded, and looked off into the distance; after a moment, she said, ‘I know what you mean, but I’ve believed in destiny all of my life. It was Fate… that’s why things are the way they are. Most of the time matters are out of our hands. They’re in the hands of…Fate.’
She forced a smile and then went on swiftly, ‘Mrs Harte, there’s something else I need to talk to you about…the money. You really don’t have to send the allowance every month. It’s far too much, and besides that, Richard can support us. I don’t need the money.’
‘Oh goodness, Glynnis, I know Richard is doing well! And I certainly never meant the money to undermine him in any way. However, I do want to send it to you. Remember, you refused Robin’s help during the war, and this is my way of…
well, ensuring Owen’s future, in a certain sense. Save the money, put it away in the bank and let it earn interest. Later, when he’s ready for college, you’ll have quite a little nest egg for the boy. I am going to continue sending it, my dear, it’s the least I can do. And that’s that. No more arguing.’
Once again Glynnis tried to protest, without success. She knew from her experience that once Emma’s mind was made up she wouldn’t budge. Apparently that was the case now. Eventually she nodded, and thanked Emma…it was all she could do.
Winston and Charlotte came for lunch several hours later, and it was a lovely reunion between the three of them. It soon became apparent that Emma’s brother was impressed with Owen, and if he noticed a family resemblance he didn’t let on, simply remained quiet. Winston had a reputation for being the family diplomat: he behaved in the most normal way with Owen, talking to him naturally, as if he were an adult.
All too soon the lunch was over, Winston and Charlotte left, and Glynnis went upstairs to pack. They were leaving for London very early the following morning, and she always liked to plan ahead, be ready to leave on time.
As she folded Owen’s clothes and laid them in his suitcase, she found herself sighing with relief that the day had passed so calmly. There had been no further hiccups. All had been tranquil, without event.
Suddenly, Owen’s voice piped up, startling her for a split second. ‘Mom, why didn’t Robin come back to see me? When he took me to visit the cows, he said he’d see me later.’ Putting his book down on the table, the child ran over to the bed where she was packing and tugged at her sleeve.
Glynnis looked down at him, and forced a smile. ‘He’s a busy man, darling. Maybe he just got caught up in work.’
‘Oh. I see.’ The child’s disappointment was apparent, and he muttered, ‘I liked him a lot. He was nice to me.’
When Glynnis made no response, Owen went on, ‘He’s a politician, Mom. He’s going to take me to the House of Commons.’
‘Oh I don’t know about that–’ she began.
‘He is!’ Owen cried passionately, interrupting her. ‘He promised. And I know he’ll keep his promise.’
Seeing that her little boy was really upset, she hugged him to her, and said soothingly, ‘I know he’ll keep his promise, Owen. I’m sure of it.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Glynnis had never meant to go. All of her instincts had told her to stay away from him, but in the end she had given in to her tumultuous emotions.
On Wednesday morning she had awakened with a feeling of tension in her body, a dull, nagging ache in the pit of her stomach, and unable to control herself she had phoned her cousin Gwyneth at seven o’clock, before taking Owen down for breakfast.
Immediately plunging in, before she changed her mind, she told Gwyneth that she could ‘borrow’ Owen for the day. This made her cousin exceedingly happy; childless, she longed to have a baby, and loving Owen the way she did she took great pleasure from taking him sightseeing. ‘He’s wanted to go to the Tower of London for ages,’ Gwyneth said enthusiastically. ‘I’ll come and collect him at eleven, if that’s all right?’
Glynnis had told her it was, relieved that Gwyneth was free, and that she hadn’t suggested later in the afternoon for the jaunt to the Tower.
But Glynnis became furious with
herself when, after breakfast, she did her hair and make-up so carefully, sprayed herself with scent, and chose her clothes for the day with such precision, picking out the blue silk dress with the flared skirt because he had said he loved her in blue years ago.
After Owen had left with Gwyneth, happily laughing and excited to be going on this unexpected treat, she had finally begun to dress. Pulling on sheer silk stockings and a blue garter belt, she then put on blue satin cami-knickers trimmed with blue lace, and finally stepped into a pair of high-heeled shoes. They showed off her legs to great advantage–Robin had always complimented her, told her that she had the loveliest legs in the world. Finally, she slipped into the dress, and gazed at herself in the mirror, suddenly quite pleased by her appearance.
And then a second later she felt wretched, hollow inside, and disgusted. Because she was going to him. It wasn’t right, it just wasn’t. She knew that only too well. But she also knew she couldn’t stop herself.
Now, getting out of the cab in Belgrave Square, she hesitated, losing her nerve. It would be best not to go, she told herself firmly. She did not trust Robin. Nor did she trust herself, and being alone with him could only spell trouble. Even Emma had warned her of that.
Walking slowly around the square, wondering what to do, wavering, she found herself growing more nervous than ever. When she glanced at her watch she sucked in her breath. It was already twelve-fifteen. When he had come to her room at Pennistone Royal, he had told her to phone by twelve-thirty. Looking around frantically, her eyes sought out a phone-box. There wasn’t one in sight.
She stood perfectly still for a moment, panic rushing through her. What to do? What to do? And then taking a deep breath, making a decision, she crossed the square purposefully, hurried to the mews located in one of the side streets just off the square.
Several seconds later Glynnis was ringing the bell of Edwina’s house.
He opened the door immediately. Although he didn’t smile or betray any emotion on his face, she saw the sudden intense flash of happiness in his blue eyes the moment he saw her.
He was unable to speak.
And so was she.
Silently, he opened the door a little wider; she stepped inside, hurried forward into a large rather charming living room. As she moved past him she was careful not to brush against him; being in his presence was bad enough, so unnerving was it. If she touched him she would fall apart.
After closing the door, Robin walked into the middle of the room, stood staring at her. They were just a few feet apart.
Swallowing hard, he said at last, ‘I was waiting for you to phone.’
She simply stared back, speechlessly, her legs shaking.
‘Why did you come–just like this?’ he asked softly.
‘I c-c-c-couldn’t h-h-help myself,’ she stuttered, her voice sounding hoarse, gruff, to her.
He gazed at her unblinkingly, wanting to hold her, yet feeling nervous, taut inside. He was afraid to say the wrong thing, or to approach her in any way, for fear she might bolt.
Glynnis gazed back, mesmerized by him. She thought she was going to burst into tears, and instantly stifled the sob rising in her throat.
Unexpectedly, as he continued to look at her, Robin noted the look of longing on her face. It reflected how he was feeling, and without another thought, unable to hold back any longer, he took a step forward. They moved at exactly the same moment, came together in a rush, fell into each other’s arms as if in desperation.
He held her against him tightly, whispering her name over and over again, smoothing his hand down her back. He was filled with the most extraordinary sense of relief to be holding her like this at long last. After all these long years, there was a sudden absence of pain.
Glynnis held onto him tightly. Her legs had gone weak and she thought that if he let go of her she would fall. Strange though it was, she could not keep a limb still.
‘Glynnis darling, you’re shaking. Don’t be afraid…afraid of me. I won’t do anything…anything you don’t want me to do. I just need to hold you like this,’ Robin reassured her.
She moved slightly so that she could look up into his face.
Blue eyes locked with blue eyes.
She parted her lips as if to express a thought but no words came out. After a moment, she finally whispered, ‘I’m not afraid…just nervous.’
‘So am I.’ Robin bent his head, kissed her fully on the mouth, and Glynnis kissed him back, felt as though she were slowly dissolving into him.
Without letting go of each other they stumbled towards the sofa near the fireplace, fell onto it, lay entwined in each other’s arms. Pushing himself up, Robin studied her face, hardly daring to believe she was actually here with him like this, so intimate. He began to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, the hollow of her neck. Moving a strand of dark hair away from her face, he said gently, ‘I just need to be near you…all these years I’ve ached for you, Glynnis. If you don’t want to–’
Glynnis brought a finger to his lips. ‘I do want to…make love,’ she responded, her voice low. ‘I want you, Robin…it’s been so long since we’ve been together. Seven years.’
He touched her face, let his hand trail down across her breast, and then slowly he began to unbutton her dress. But within a moment or two she stopped him and said quietly, ‘Take your jacket off, Robin, please.’
Standing up, he did so, threw it on a chair, went to the door, slid the bolt, then closed the curtains. As he came back to her he pulled off his tie, began to unbutton his shirt.
She rose from the sofa, stood in front of him, slipped out of her dress, let it fall in a pool at her feet as he took off his shirt. Robin came towards her, wrapping his arms around her once again. And he led her to the sofa, and lay down next to her.
And very slowly he began to make love to her, touching her neck, her breasts, sliding his hand inside the satin underwear. He touched it lightly with his fingertips, bent his head to kiss the nipple. Then he looked up, stared into her eyes. There was enormous intensity in his voice as he said, ‘I love you, Glynnis, I’ve never stopped loving you…Tell me you feel the same.’
‘You know I do, oh you do know that, Robin. There’s only ever been you. Only you can make me feel this way.’
‘It’s the same for me,’ he said, a catch in his voice. ‘I belong to you, Glynnis. For always. I will always be yours as long as I live. And you will always be mine, no matter what you think.’
‘Robin, oh Robin,’ she whispered.
‘Take this off, darling,’ he said suddenly, touching her satin underwear. Then he unfastened the suspenders of her garter belt, and slowly rolled down her stockings one at a time. Once she was completely naked on the sofa, he swiftly finished undressing and rejoined her.
Stretched out next to each other, lost in each other, they stroked and touched and explored; after seven years apart they craved each other desperately, longed to be joined together as one; they were both on the verge of explosion.
Within moments, Robin was bending over her, kissing her breasts and her thighs. And as his tongue slid down her stomach, went directly to the core of her, she let out a long sigh of pleasure. Slowly, he began to kiss her where no other man ever had.
In a moment she was shuddering with pleasure and crying his name, telling him how much she wanted him, and swiftly he positioned himself over her, slid inside her, took her to him exultantly, repeating her name over and over as he pushed his hands under her buttocks and brought her closer to him. She felt the heat flowing through her as she grew more excited; she matched his passion and his ardour, and it was as if they had never been parted. Together they finally crested on a wave of love and emotion, and Robin called her name as he possessed her completely.
They lay together on the sofa for a long time, holding each other tightly as if they were genuinely afraid to let go.
After a short while, Robin said, ‘I did want to talk to you. I wasn’t setting out to seduce you.’
‘I kn
ow that. And you didn’t seduce me. It was a great example of the most splendid cooperation, wasn’t it?’
‘No better description! But just listen a moment, Glynnis, please. Look, I’m sorry I abandoned you when I did. But you and I had broken up when you came to tell me you were pregnant. And I–’
‘Robin, this is not at all necessary,’ she cut in. ‘I do know all this, and what you say is absolutely true. And you’d become involved with Valerie by the time I appeared again to inform you that you were about to be a father. I truly understand your position, especially now. Also, I was difficult in those days, so volatile, so anxiety-ridden, and–’
‘You were young, and so was I. It was wartime, and I was in the air in a Spitfire most of the time, dropping bombs on Germany and risking my life every day. I was as volatile as you were, in my own way. We were all under massive strain. It was war, for God’s sake.’
‘That’s quite true, yes,’ Glynnis agreed. ‘I’m much calmer now. After all, I’m thirty, like you, a mature woman, a mother, a wife…’
There was a slight hesitation before Robin asked quietly, in a subdued voice, ‘Is it happy…your marriage?’
‘In its own way, yes. You see, it does work, Robin. Richard loves me and he adores Owen. He takes care of us very well. He’s a good man.’
‘Do you love him?’ He hated himself for asking this question, but he had to know how she felt. He could hardly bear to think of her with Richard Hughes. Or any other man, for that matter. What a terrible fool he’d been, letting her go.
She took a while to answer. Eventually she said, ‘Yes, I do. In a different way from …us. Let me put it this way: I do love Richard, but I’m not in love with him.’ She looked straight at Robin. ‘And your marriage?’
‘I suspect it’s pretty much like yours,’ he replied. ‘It works, Glynnis. There’s stability there, and Valerie’s very steady, practical, rather placid. Doesn’t rock boats. And she’s a good mother to Jonathan. Furthermore, she lets me have my life.’
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