Capital Sins (10 page)

'Which
makes you fornicating with my husband all right, l suppose,' the woman lashed
back, her puckered lips a bright scarlet slash as she snarled.

'He didn't
tell me he was married, I thought he was single... '

The
enormity of what had nearly happened struck her and, overcome with
embarrassment, Connie covered her face with her hands. 'I'm sorry
... '

'Just get
your stuff and go! I don't want to look at you, let alone talk to you, you
cheap little whore!'

Connie,
stung at such unfairness, wanted to explain, but she controlled herself and
didn't retaliate further. Wordlessly, her face flaming, she clipped on her bra
as fast as she could, and hunted for her pants, conscious all the while of the
woman watching her in disgust.

'
These what
you're looking for?' And the woman hooked them up
off the floor with the toe of her shoe and flung them abruptly into the girl's
face. 'It's a wonder your type bothers to wear them at all!'

Clenching
her jaw, holding back the tears, Connie put them on and then, with her head
held high, walked in what she prayed was a dignified manner into the lounge
where her dress lay on the floor. As she slithered into it, she could hear them
talking inside the bedroom. The woman's voice screeched gratingly as her young
husband apparently tried to pacify her.

'... And
where did you pick up that one, Phil?' She heard the woman say in a biting
tone. 'As soon as my back is turned
... '

'She's no
one special, baby, believe me. She means nothing to me.' His voice was smarmy,
fawning, but desperate sounding, and Connie gritted her teeth. 'She's just some
broad who took advantage of me when I was drunk.'

'Ha! And
you brought her back here with you to sleep it off, 1 suppose!'

There was
shrill laughter from her, a raucous sound.

'Aw, hell,
baby, you don't have to be jealous. You know it's you I want, and only you.'

Knows which
side his bread's buttered, Connie thought, hating him with every fibre of her
being.

'I've told
you about this before, Phil.' His wife's voice was warning now. 'I won't stand
for any cheating
... '

Stinking
gigolo! The word seared through Connie's mind

'Don't
scold, sweet. Look, I'll make it up to you.'

'Oh, yeah?
And just how are you going to do that?' Her voice had taken on a whining,
petulant note. She had been grossly offended, and he had to pay. 'When was the
last time you and me made it together, Phi!?'

'
C'mere
and I'll remind you, make you remember
... '

She turned
coy. 'I don't know. You've been a bad boy and I'm very annoyed with you ...
what are you doing!' The voice had scaled a pitch.

Connie
closed her eyes, sickened.

'Isn't this
the way you like it?' There was the sound of ripping cloth, and Connie looked
around wildly for her handbag, not wanting to hear any more.

'Spread
your legs, baby. Now, how does this feel ... and this?'

The girl
picked up her coat as she raced across the room to the door. She flung it open
and ran from the place as fast as her legs would go. Not having waited for the
lift, the clattering of her heels could be heard as she fled.

'God, it
was awful, Sheila, I've never felt so humiliated in all my life. I wanted to
die!'

Connie had
just finished relating last night's episode to a sympathetic Sheila Delaney.
Sitting at her desk amid the normal routine of a fresh day, it now seemed as if
it had been a long and horrible nightmare, not quite real.

'You poor kid.
You're sure learning about life the hard way. Connie's fingers pounded
on the typewriter keys as if she were venting her fury on the machine.

'Men!
They're just beasts, rotten to the core!'

'Not all of
them,' Sheila said fairly.

'All the
ones I've met have been,' the younger girl snorted. 'I just don't understand
how they can act the way they do,' she complained, her face still bitter as she
recalled the way that Philip Dual had grovelled before his wife.

Sheila
shrugged, relating to her own experiences but wisely not mentioning them.

'One's got
to beat them at their own game, be a queen, not a pawn,' Connie went on,
bending over her typewriter to angrily erase a mistake on the paper. 'If I act
all feminine, they treat me like a piece of putty. The secret's to be like
them; hard as nails, and twice as selfish!'

'You don't
really mean that. You're just saying it now because you've been hurt.'

'Used!'

'That way
can also get one into difficulties. Connie. If you act like a hard nut, they'll
treat you like one. You've been unfortunate in your choice
...
'

'But if I
act naturally, just be myself, they still treat me with contempt!' Connie
grumbled.

'Oh,
lovey
,' Sheila sighed, looking at the girl's blonde head
regretfully. 'You're too young to be such a cynic.'

'
Tilly
says that's the only way to be.' She flung back her
long hair over her shoulders impatiently and peered at her note pad. 'She never
gets involved with any man unless she thinks he can do her some good.
Tilly's
got a nose about things like that.'

She chewed
the tip of her pencil and frowned. 'What I'm doing wrong is getting myself too
serious and uptight, I should learn to take things as they come, enjoy myself
with some light-hearted fun – for now, anyway.'

Sheila
couldn't help smiling at her secretary's intentness. 'But I thought you said
your aim was to find yourself a good man and get married.'

'I thought
it over in bed last night and decided I've still got plenty of time for
marriage and kids. If I rush, I might make a. mistake, and I don't believe in
divorce, whatever the problem, so I'm going to go out with lots of different
types, and from one I'll select the right man for me.' She looked at Sheila
triumphantly.

'Don't turn
into what Philip Dual's wife called you,' Sheila cautioned. 'There's no need to
lose your head and take it out on yourself.'

'I know
what I'm doing.'

'You're
lucky to have so many men who would want to date you, some aren't so
fortunate.' Sheila hoped she didn't sound self-pitying, but Connie smiled at
her.

'The right
one will come along for you some day, you'll see.'

'As far as
I'm concerned, he has, but he just doesn't reciprocate my interest ... ' she
stopped, not wanting to give away too much, but finding it a relief to talk to
someone.

'Then you
should make him want you,' Connie said airily, as if it were the easiest thing
to accomplish.

Sheila
grimaced. 'It's not so simple when one hasn't much to offer.'

'Oh, for
goodness' sake, Sheila,' Connie cried impatiently, 'stop demeaning yourself and
making yourself out to be such a loser! You're not ugly, if that's what you
mean and, anyway, you're intelligent and kind, I've told you. I think you're
fishing for compliments, you sly puss,' she smiled. 'Besides, lots of men like
the qualities you have in their women; intelligent blokes who don't want a girl
just to show her off to their friends because she happens to be beautiful
because of a quirk of nature!' She stopped for breath. Sheila laughed.

'It wasn't
lots of men I was referring to,' she said mildly.

Connie
looked disdainful. 'Then, whoever he is, he must need his brains tested, and I
don't know why you're mooning over such a man,' she said emphatically, showing
off her superior knowledge.

'I think he
likes me a little, actually,' Sheila said hesitantly.

'You're
halfway there already, in that case.' She paused and looked at Sheila closely.
'How long you known him?'

'About ... a few years.'

'You must
know what he wants, then, how his tastes run. Perhaps he just doesn't want to
get hooked by any woman, and it's not the case of his not loving you
... '

Sheila
looked wistful suddenly. 'He does want to get married, she contradicted. 'I
suppose I'll just have to face facts that I don't fit into that role with him.'

Connie was
touched at the pathos in her friend's voice. 'Don't give up; while he's still
single you've got a chance.'

Sheila
shook her head. 'It's purely platonic. He treats me so much like a friend, drat
the man, that he's even told me he'd been in love before; even going so far as
to describe her to me when he was going out with one, and I remember thinking to
myself then, this is it, Shelia, he's going to get himself tied at last, so
give up while you're still sane. But, surprisingly, their relationship petered
out after a couple of weeks, even though I know the woman was crazy about him
at the time.'

Connie
shrugged. 'Probably got cold feet at the last minute,' she suggested.
'One of the scared ones.'

Sheila lit
a cigarette and said, 'You know, I honestly wouldn't mind if it wasn't me he
married, just as long as he was happy.'

'That's
love,' Connie said, a little flippantly. 'Wouldn't you be madly jealous
really?'

Sheila's
shoulders sagged, making her appear older, and weary. 'Of course I'd be, but I
think I'd always go on loving him all the same. I just wish I could do
something, that I wasn't such a coward ... oh, I don't know...'

She looked
so dispirited, Connie was impelled to answer.

'I wish
there was something I could do,' she said abruptly. This was the first time
that Sheila had confided in her, allowed another into her confidence, but this
was something even a friend couldn't do anything about. She could only listen,
as Sheila listened to her. The possibility that it was Samuel Jessop Sheila was
talking about flashed across Connie's mind again, but she decided not to voice
the thought aloud.

Sheila raised
her drooping head and, although her eyes were smiling, Connie noticed that her
lashes were wet.

'I
shouldn't have sounded off like that,' Sheila said, taking a deep breath. 'I'm
supposed to be the composed, unflappable type that everybody believes me to be,
but it gets a bit much for me sometimes, always keeping everything inside so
that I don't alarm anybody by showing that I'm human. I try to impress on
everyone that I haven't a care in the world, and probably succeed in carrying
it off, but I'm not a machine, I'm still young enough to have feelings ... '

Connie
didn't say anything. She was curious as to the unknown man's identity, but as
Sheila hadn't mentioned his name, Connie wouldn't enquire. It wasn't important
who he was anyway, she reckoned, and she probably wouldn't know him anyway.

Sheila
lifted her head and reached for her handbag. She took out a tissue and blew her
nose.

'I'm being
silly,' she said lightly. 'Look, you'd better go on home now, Connie,
it's
five thirty already.' She attempted to smile and just
made it. 'You going anywhere tonight?' she asked, assuming a more cheerful
expression, a. if her confessions had never taken place. Connie followed the
pattern willingly.

'Nope, I'm
staying in to wash my hair and maybe do my nails.' She paused. 'Would you like
me to stay with you for a while? I mean, if you're on your own tonight. I could
come over to your flat and keep you company if you'd like.'

'It's sweet
of you, but no. I've still got some notes to prepare and Mr Jessop wanted them
early in the morning for a meeting. I've got a bit behind in my own work with
all our chatter.'

Connie
looked guilty.

'Never
mind, I feel like working late tonight, it'll help me take my mind off things.'

Connie
didn't argue and collected her bits and pieces. When she turned to say good
night, Sheila's head was already bent in an engrossed manner over a notepad.

Sheila
poured herself yet another cup of coffee from the percolator and went over to
the window. At eight o'clock, it was getting dark outside but the traffic was
still flowing beneath her. As predicted, it had begun to rain and she watched
it splat against the windows then slither gently down the large glass panes
like silver tears.

She went
back to her desk and sat down, sipping at the hot coffee. She switched on her
table lamp and it cast a bright circle of light on to the table. Sheila hadn't
realised how gloomy it had become in the office. It was very solitary there
without the usual clatter of typewriters and buzz of voices that could always
be heard during office hours. Second to her flat, Sheila thought, her office at
night was the loneliest place on earth. Sounds were comforting, and yet the
soft patter of rain on the windows only seemed to enhance the deathly hush, so
thick it seemed to enshroud her. Silence and darkness surrounded her as she
went back to scratching with her pen on the paper, and the shadows of the night
loomed almost threateningly as she tried to concentrate on her work, determined
to ignore her self-imposed isolation.