Capital Sins (25 page)

As the
cigarette burned out in the ashtray, there came a knock at the door.

'Your
breakfast is ready, Madam.'

'Thanks,
Marie, but I only want a cup of coffee. I'm meeting Miss Delaney for lunch, so
tell Mrs Bloom not to cook anything for me, please.'

The maid's
footsteps tapped away and Connie dressed hurriedly. She cursed the fact that
she hadn't even allowed herself time for a quick shower to wash off the last
evening's assault on her body.

Connie
hurried through the restaurant to where Sheila was already seated at the
reserved table overlooking the muddy bank of the river.

'Sorry if I
kept you waiting, Sheila,' she apologised as she took her place and unfolded a
napkin across her lap. 'I couldn't seem to drag myself from my slumbers this
morning.'

'
Don't worry
, but I have to leave at two, love.' Sheila
smiled, thinking that even when in a hurry, Connie always managed to look
groomed and dewy fresh, whatever the hour.

'You're
looking well,' Sheila added as the waiter took their order.

'I'm OK.'
She shrugged.
'Bored, as usual.
I think I need another
holiday.'

'What you
need is a job, my girl, some useful therapy and discipline to stop you from
loafing
your life away.'

'I don't
need to work,' Connie said briefly. She knew Sheila meant well and only said
these things for her own good, but it annoyed her all the same. 'Besides, I'm a
lazy slob, you know that.'

'I still
think you'd enjoy being useful again, all the same.'

'I'll think
it over,' Connie said, and knew that Sheila knew she wouldn't.

They ate
for a while in silence, then Sheila said, 'How's Sam?'

'You should
know better than I how he is. You see him more often than I do.'

Sheila took
that without comment and finished her Trout
Meuniere
.
'He's very unhappy, Connie,' she said slowly.

'Still?
So am I, but what do you want me to do about it? I can't work miracles, and
that's what it would take to save our marriage, if save is the right word.
We've been over this ground before, Sheila. I've resigned myself, same as him.'

The waiter
removed their plates and served coffee. 'You care so much about him,' Connie
went on after a pause. 'Why don't you help him?' She wasn't being bitchy, she
meant it.

'Because you're his wife.'

Connie
laughed shortly. 'How old-fashioned can one get?'

'It's Sam
who cares about proprieties, not me.'

'Well,
that's honest of you.' Connie sipped her coffee,
then
added more cream.

'If you
weren't around I'd try to help him.'

'What is
this?
Confession week?
That's what I always liked
about you, Sheila.
Straightforward and to the point.
The point is, my friend, would
he
want you?'

'I don't
know ...I think so. He doesn't like being alone, and I'm the closest friend he
has. I'd live with him if he asked me ... but this is being hypothetical.
You're his wife, it won't happen.'

Connie eyed
her curiously. 'Do... do you discuss things with him, the way we do?'

'We talk.'

'About me?'
she asked sharply.

'Not about you, not directly.
I value our friendship. )"
ou
know that whatever you do or say to me is strictly
confidential. Connie. I wouldn't want to hurt you, or Sam.'

Connie
laughed dryly. 'Poor
Sheila,
stuck fast in the tangled
web of our lives.'

'It does
get a bit hard sometimes,' Sheila admitted ruefully.

Connie
fiddled with her coffee spoon. Her eyes were thoughtful. 'Do you ever wish I
was out of the way?' She didn't look at Sheila as she spoke. .

'When I'm
feeling a bit low... yes, I suppose so, sometimes, but,' she added disarmingly,
'who would either of.
us
talk with if the other
weren't here?'

'You'd have
Sam.'
Then
she gave a bright, artificial smile.

'How tragic
I sound,' she said mockingly. 'Yet, it's true that you're the only person I
have
... '

'Do you
ever think about your daughter, Connie?' The question was unexpected, and
Connie looked startled. Then she frowned.

'I ... not often.
Now and again I wonder how she's making out, what she looks like, that
kind of thing, but I don't think I'd ever actively pursue what little curiosity
I have about her ... I don't really know.' She looked down at her hands, the
beautifully manicured nails varnished palest pink. 'She'd be a little girl,
now, probably very happy where she is, wherever that may be. I'd like to think
she was happy and sometimes I wish I knew what they've told her about me, if
anything; what she thinks of her mother.
Whether she wonders
about her at all.
I wouldn't like to feel I was hated.'

'Did you
hate
your
mother?'

She pursed
her lips, and sighed. 'The thought of her used to make me cry, I remember. I
hated her for not being with me when I needed her, not wanting me, but I don't
think I actually hated her.' She looked at Sheila sulkily. 'Now you're making
me feel guilty,' she said, a little petulantly.

'I'm sorry,
I don't mean to.'

Connie was
silent. Sheila paid the bill and they went outside into the bright sunshine.
Sheila flagged down a passing cab and as it waited by traffic lights, Sheila
turned to her. 'Are you still seeing Howard Fletcher?' she asked casually.

Connie
stiffened. 'What if I am?'

'Nothing.
It's just that he's married, with two kids, and old enough to be your father.'

'What of
it?' Connie's tone was suddenly aggressive, her eyes accusing.

Sheila
shrugged. 'People are talking, that's all.'

'Let them,
I don't give a damn.'

'Sam
doesn't like to hear rumours.'

'Doesn't like being made a fool of, you mean.
He hasn't seemed to care before. OK
as long as his wife keeps everything discreet and secret, hub?' She sneered.
'He's such a hypocrite, Sheila. I've never been able to understand why you love
the man.'

Sheila let
that pass, and said instead: 'Fletcher's lasted longer than the others, hasn't
he?'

'Since when
have you been so prudish? Is it because you're such a close friend of his
wife's ... has she been on at you?'

'I don't
like to interfere,' Sheila said slowly. 'I just said that you've been seeing
him for a long time, and it's unusual. I'm sure you don't want to break up his
marriage
... '

'If his
marriage breaks up, it won't be because of me,' Connie snapped.

'Come on now,'
Sheila scoffed, but Connie had started to walk away. 'Connie!'

She watched
as the girl disappeared into the crowd.

Connie was
fuming. What right had Sheila to talk the way she did? OK, they were friends,
but that didn't give her cause to sound so patronising, or the right to tell
her how she was to live her life. She marched into a department store, head
held high, and mingled with the throng of shoppers. Her cheeks cooled slowly
until she was almost sorry she'd walked off like that but, no, she wasn't going
to be the one to apologise. Let Sheila. She'd show her she didn't need her, or
anyone!

She bumped
into someone and mechanically apologised.
Then, '
Tilly
?'

'What?' The
girl turned round and stared. 'Connie?'

'It
is
you!'

'
Gawd
, I '
ardly
recognised you,
kid.
Wot
you done to
yer
hair?'

'Had it
cut.
' She fingered her head.

'I can see
that.
Suits you.'
Tilly
wound her arm through Connie's and she found herself being propelled out into
the street. 'What you bin
doin
' with
yerself
all this time, girl? What '
appened
to you?'

'I got
married.' She didn't think she'd tell about the rest.

Tilly
looked down at her
ringless
hand and Connie shook her
head.

'I don't
wear one.'

They found
themselves a tea shop and
Tilly
ordered a pot of tea
for two and a plate of cakes and scones.

'But I've
just had lunch,' Connie protested, laughing.

'I
ain't
.' She stared enviously at Connie's expensive clothes.
'I must say, you're looking very well.'

'My
husband's a wealthy man.' She looked across at
Tilly
.
'You haven't changed much. Hair's a bit longer, and less make-up, and what
you're wearing couldn't have been cheap
... '

'No, my
friend takes good care of me.' If Connie noticed a slight hesitation as
Tilly
mentioned her friend, she said nothing.

'Where are
you working now,
Tilly
?' she asked, pouring herself a
cup of tea. She grinned as she watched the other eat.
Tilly
always had scoffed down her food as if someone were waiting to snatch it from
her.
Tilly
patted her lips on a paper tissue before
answering.

'At a
club,' she replied briefly, before taking a gulp of tea.

'Not the
Topaz still!' Connie said in amazement, but
Tilly
shook her head.

'Nah, left
there when I was kicked out by Ma Withers. She really dun me a good turn. This
place is Hunters Lodge ... Ever bin there?'

'Never heard of it.
Are you still
hostessing
?'

Tilly
flushed. 'Actually,' she said, suddenly dropping her natural accent, 'I'm part
owner.' She lowered her eyes modestly.

'Oh,
Tilly
, that's great. I'm really pleased for you. No wonder
you look so happy with yourself.'

'Well,
thanks, Connie,'
Tilly
said softly. She leant back
and stared at Connie intently, and reverted to her former speech.

'But you
look a bit down
yerself
, in spite of the posh gear.'
She inched closer. 'Don't get on too good with the ole man, hub?'

Connie
pushed her empty cup away. 'We get along,' she said brightly. 'Come on, now.
Tell me what you've been doing with yourself all this time.'

Hours
passed,
Tilly
doing most of the talking. Connie
glanced at her watch,
then
rose to her feet.

'I didn't
realise it was getting so late,
Tilly
.'

'You off
anywhere special, then?'

Connie
halted.
'No, not really.
My time's my own, and there's
nothing on tonight that can't be put off. Why?'

Tilly
assumed a casual expression that didn't fool Connie. 'Oh, just thought you'd
like to come an' visit my
club
,.
that's
all.'

'I'd love
to,' Connie said sincerely. 'Is it far?'

'Few blocks.'
Tilly
was all eagerness, like a child wanting
to show off a new toy.

'I've got
the car parked nearby. Tell me the way
... '

It was
early evening and the sky hadn't begun to darken yet. Connie parked around a
corner and they walked the few yards to a doorway, over which was a neon sign
reading Hunters Lodge in flashing pink letters.
Tilly
said the club was situated in the basement of the building and if she hadn't
pointed it out, Connie would never have noticed the place. It had a most
discreet entrance and she followed
Tilly
down an iron
staircase that wound them down and down until they reached a small, carpeted
hallway off which were a number of doors. There was an attractive brunette
seated at a reception desk in the hall before what was obviously the main
doorway, and she greeted
Tilly
with a wink, then
looked over towards Connie who was coming up behind.

'Connie,
this is Alice,'
Tilly
said,
then
asked the girl, 'Is Jenny around?'

The
brunette nodded and
Tilly
swung through the doorway,
Connie following.

'Jenny's my
partner in crime,'
Tilly
explained in a loud whisper.
'She ran this place on '
er
tod before I came into it.
She's the friend I'm sharing the fiat with.'