B00CAXBD9C EBOK (18 page)

‘I’m sorry. I have my car with me.’

‘Pity.’ He shook his head. ‘Maybe I should follow to see you get home safely.’ He chuckled.

She could have screamed, he was such a bore! She didn’t even bother to reply, just jumped up. He got up too.

‘Excuse me,’ she said firmly, ‘I have to go to the ladies’ room.’

It was quiet upstairs in Monica’s bedroom. She sat at the dressing table and rearranged strands of her hair. Would Monica think her rude if she left? She didn’t really care. She looked for her jacket among the coats on the bed. What a waste buying the new black chiffon dress she was wearing.

She found her jacket, went downstairs, and slipped out quietly. She would call Monica tomorrow and explain that she had a headache and had thought it better not to bother with good-byes. Monica would probably be insulted, not invite her again, but so what? It was much more fun staying at home with the children.

Back at home she undressed slowly, wondering why on earth three hours previously she had painstakingly applied such a careful makeup and looked forward so excitedly to Monica’s dreary gathering. What had she expected? Prince Charming, not a boring doctor with bad breath.

She felt depressed. Girls like Susan set the pace now with their lithe bodies. Face up to it, Linda, she thought, you’ve had your best years. You gave them to David. You’ve got two children. You’re divorced. You have to settle for second best now.

She was lonely at night. Once, briefly, it had crossed her mind to phone Paul, but common sense had prevailed. Maybe she had made a mistake divorcing David. Maybe she
should
have given him another chance. But no, she was right, this was better than living a lie with David.

She fell into a troubled sleep.

An hour later the phone woke her.

‘Hello.’ Her voice was sleepy.

‘Are you trying to avoid me?’

‘What?’ Her mind was still sleep-filled.

‘I leave messages for you, you don’t return my calls. You ignore me tonight and then just run off. I want dinner with you tomorrow night, no excuses.’

‘Yes, Jay.’ Her voice was weak.

‘I’ll pick you up at eight, and no calls to say you can’t make it. I’ve phoned you three times.’

She didn’t know what to say.

‘All right, tomorrow at eight,’ he said after a short pause. ‘And wear that black dress you had on tonight, it looks great.’

Suddenly everything seemed bright again. Jay Grossman was certainly not second best.

* * *

Eventually Conrad returned. He had been gone an hour and a half, and Claudia, bored with the magazines and being kept waiting, was a little testy. She covered her irritation with a smile.

He was drunk. He grabbed hold of her, his fleshy hands feeling her body through her thin dress.

She wriggled away. This wasn’t the way she had it planned.

‘Aren’t we going upstairs?’ she asked.

His breath, a mixture of strong garlic and Scotch, enveloped her as he replied, ‘Sure – sure. Just want a little preliminary.’ He forced his hand inside the neckline of her dress, grabbing her breasts with rough fingers.

‘You’re hurting me,’ she complained, and then, ‘Hey – you’re tearing my dress.’ She pulled away from him again, furious at the torn dress, but still smiling provocatively. ‘Let’ s go upstairs, lover,’ she cooed. ‘Let’s have a great scene upstairs.’

‘Take your clothes off first – I want to take a look at the goods I’m getting,’ he said urgently.

It was obviously no use arguing with him. She’d fix him when she got him in the sack.

Slowly she peeled off sensuous folds of white jersey. Underneath she had on only a wisp of a garter belt and pale sheer stockings, her long legs emphasized by the exceptionally high heels she was wearing.

He lunged at her, falling to his knees and grabbing her around the waist. He sank his teeth into her stomach and bit hard.

She screamed with pain and kicked him away. ‘You son of a bitch!’

He laughed, hollow loud rumbles.

She rubbed her stomach, her eyes glinting dangerously, her mouth a tight smile. So he wanted to play games, huh? Well, she knew a few of her own.

‘Come on.’ He lumbered to the door. She followed him. He pushed her up the stairs ahead of him, stroking her legs, trying to feel between them.

They reached the bedroom. It was very dark; she could hardly see a thing.

‘Get on the bed,’ he commanded.

She climbed onto a large circular bed, grimly thinking things were going to be different in the morning when this big slob was sober.

He switched on the lights – bright glaring lights that hit the bed at a hard angle. She noticed a huge mirror above the bed.

He climbed on top of her, not even bothering to remove his clothes, just unfastening his trousers.

‘Open up, baby,’ he said. ‘Let’s have some action.’

He used her brutally – slamming and grinding into her, and afterwards wanting it different ways, making her do it to him at every conceivable angle.

She worked hard. This was something he had to remember. It was funny, really. When she became famous, everyone would say she was an overnight discovery. How right they would be!

At last he was finished. Her body ached from his pressures. She was bruised and worn. She lay spread-eagled on the bed, too limp to move.

He was surprisingly full of life. ‘Got a little thrill for you,’ he said. ‘Just stay where you are.’

He got off the bed and pressed a switch by the door. The mirror above the bed parted and slid easily in two, leaving a gap in the ceiling. A ring of smiling faces peered down at her from the gaping aperture.

She sat up, horrified.

‘Just a few of my friends,’ Conrad said easily. ‘These two-way mirrors are a great gimmick for making a party go with a bang!’ He guffawed. ‘Pick out who you’d like next.’

A woman’s face, grotesquely made up and old, said, ‘How about me, Conrad? Can I have a turn with her? She seems to know what it’s all about.’

A man’s voice said, ‘No, me next. Let me give her a real fucking.’

‘Oh, God!’ Claudia jumped off the bed.

‘What’s the matter?’ Conrad asked. ‘Don’t you want to be in my movie?’

She stared at him, every instinct warning her to get out.

But to leave now – what use was that? That wouldn’t get her on the silver screen.

‘All right,’ she said at last. ‘All right, I’ll stay, but this time you’d better mean it.’

‘I mean it,’ he said blandly.

David managed to get through the early part of the next week without trouble. Miss Field was, as usual, the perfect, quiet, unobtrusive secretary. Neither of them made any reference to the previous Sunday. Indeed, it was as if it had never happened.

David felt that maybe it had all been a bad dream, but some grim sense of foreboding warned him that it was true. The sooner he was rid of Miss Field, the better. Meanwhile, their relationship was exactly the same as before.

He decided to wait a couple of weeks, then get her transferred to another department, maybe with a raise. She wouldn’t object to that.

Mr. Taylor of the Fulla Beans account was in town. David didn’t relish the thought, but as usual he was elected to entertain him. Did these poor out-of-towners
never
get tired of the inevitable clip-joint nightclubs and the pathetic, blowsy hostesses? It seemed not. Once more David had to fix him up, this time with a big redhead called Dora. Dora laughed a lot and suggested that it would be a lot of fun if Burt Taylor
and
David accompanied her back to her bed.

Neither of them liked the idea. Burt, because he didn’t want to share. And David, because he didn’t want to know.

She was very insistent, and when Burt Taylor, eyes bulging at the thought of the show she was offering, started to think it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, David became really fed up.

He managed to finally persuade them to go off on their own. How he hated this sort of entertaining. These nightclub scrubbers weren’t for him. He returned to his hotel room and went to bed.

The week dragged. Wednesday afternoon he phoned to speak to his children. They had just got home from school and were having tea. Ana told him Mrs. Cooper was out.

He was sure Linda wouldn’t mind if he dropped by to see them. Maybe she would let him stay for dinner. It was all a question of time with Linda. Eventually she would realize the only sensible thing was to take him back.

He told Ana he would be right over. She mumbled something in Spanish. He could hear the children’s excited squeaks in the background.

He left the office in high humour, went to Hamley’s store, and filled his arms with toys. He stopped at Swiss Cottage and bought flowers. By the time he arrived at the house, it was two hours later.

Linda answered the door tight-lipped and furious. She stood in the doorway. ‘The children are being bathed,’ she said coldly.

‘All right, I can wait.’ He offered her the flowers.

She ignored them. ‘David, we have an agreement that you only visit the children at the weekend.’

‘What difference does it make when I come? Are you going to penalize me because I want to see my kids?’

She stood back wearily. She didn’t want to be unfair as far as the children were concerned – after all, he
was
their father. ‘Come in, but please don’t do this again.’

‘What do you mean? Don’t visit my own children again?’

‘No, David, I mean please keep to the agreed times.’

‘You surprise me.’ He shook his head. ‘I never thought you would use Janey and Stephen as a weapon against me.’

Her eyes filled with tears at the injustice of what he was saying. ‘But I’m not. I’m just trying to do what’s best.’

He looked at her coldly. ‘And you think it’s best that two innocent young children should not be allowed to see their father.’

‘You’re twisting what I’m saying.’

‘I’m not twisting anything. I’m just repeating you.’ He thrust the flowers at her. ‘Take these – or perhaps you would prefer to throw them out like you would me.’

She accepted the flowers. ‘I’ll see if bathtime is finished.’

‘Can I have permission to go upstairs and see them in the bath?’ His voice was acid.

‘Of course.’

Stephen stood at the top of the stairs, scrubbed and clean in striped pyjamas. ‘Daddy!’ he yelled.

Linda heard the cry of joy downstairs. She glanced at her watch. It was six o’clock. Maybe she should call Jay and tell him she couldn’t keep their date. She felt so confused. David’s attitude toward her was so unfair. He acted as if the whole thing was her fault.

He came downstairs, Janey cuddled in his arms, Stephen clinging to his hand. He fetched the packages from the car, and the children yelled with excitement.

Linda shut the door of the living room and left them all together. She went upstairs and lay down on the bed. She had thought the most painful part of divorce was over, but when you have children, it’s never over. There’s always a small questioning voice – ‘Why doesn’t Daddy live here anymore? When can Daddy come back? Do you love Daddy?’

She tried to contact Jay. He was out.

After an hour she went downstairs. With a forced smile she said, ‘Come along – time for bed. School tomorrow.’

Stephen glared at her. ‘Oh, Mummy!’

Janey started to cry.

David said, ‘How about ten more minutes?’

‘Please, Mummy,’ Janey begged.

‘Oh, OK – but no longer.’ She glanced again at her watch. It was past seven, and Jay was due at eight. She didn’t want him and David to meet. She wished she could find Jay and put him off. Not that she wanted to, but she really didn’t feel like going out now.

After another twenty minutes the children were at last safely in bed with David reading them stories. By the time he came downstairs it was a quarter to eight. His mood was cordial. ‘I could do with a drink.’

She was nervous. She had a perfect right to go out on a date, but she instinctively knew David wouldn’t like it.

He poured himself a Scotch. ‘You know, Stephen’s a very bright lad. We must have a serious talk about his future.’

She pulled herself together. ‘Yes, we must, but not now. I have to get changed.’ Her voice became defiant. ‘I’m going out.’

‘That’s nice.’ There was a silence, then he added, ‘Pretty cushy life you’ve got.’

Her voice was controlled. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Well, you know, no worries, nice house. I foot all the bills, and you can just run around doing what you like.’

‘I don’t run around and you know it.’

‘Come off it. You’re an attractive woman, a divorcee. Any man knows he’s on to a good thing – a free lay is always popular. You must have dozens of offers. Why I bet—’

Her cheeks blazed. ‘Get out! Get out of here!’

He put his drink down calmly. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t try to tell me you’re not getting it.’

‘Please go, David. Right now.’

He sauntered to the door. ‘All right, all right, don’t get excited. I won’t hang around to mess up your date. I’ll get back to my hotel room – don’t worry about me, just have a good time.’

When he reached the front door, she slammed it in his face.

He climbed into his car angrily. Thoughtless bitch! She was as bad as Claudia. They were all the same, all bitches trying to grab you by the balls and squeeze everything out of you.

He drove around the block and then came back and parked a few houses away. May as well wait and see who she was going out with.

* * *

Jay was a few minutes late, but hardly enough for Linda to recover. He found her in tears.

‘I can’t go out,’ she sobbed.

He put his arm around her. She leaned her head against his chest and told him a jumbled account of what had happened.

He was sympathetic. ‘You must talk to your lawyer first thing tomorrow. You can get a court order to stop him bothering you – he has set times to see the kids, and he’ll have to stick to them.’

‘I just thought it would be so mean of me not to let him see the children.’

‘That’s how he
wants
you to feel. He’s probably had enough screwing around and decided to come back. His only way of getting at you is through the kids.’