Beware the Roasburies! Pt. 05

"Graham, that girl adores you, she is out of her mind in love with you, and everything you do reinforces it. You really knocked her for six when you told her she still lived here, she's still half crying and half laughing, she's so happy about that. It must be wonderful to be able to make someone as happy as that. Her life has been turned round and you're the one who's done it."

I smiled, and felt warmly content. Who wouldn't?

"We've done it," I corrected her. She shrugged.

"However," she added seriously. "She's now also out of her mind with worry that there'll be an atmosphere and you'll be stand-offish and surly with her, and she doesn't think she could cope with that. She's really insecure you know; not surprising with her history. So I've thought of something."

My spirits dropped. Colette had that look - you know, the one that says she thinks she has a wonderful plan which will cost me a great deal. She saw my face, and laughed. That made it worse. She hugged me and kissed my lips gently. Now I was really worried.

"I don't like this," I hissed. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

"You're so wrong!" she crowed. "So wrong! Take her to London with you tomorrow, use my ticket for the train. I'll pay for her, it's my extra Christmas present for her."

"But it's your holiday," I protested. "You can't-"

"I can, easily," she said with assurance. "One phone call, and I'll be off to Sheffield to see a very good friend - with an enormous prick," she whispered with a salacious grin. "Gives a whole new meaning to doing stretches before taking exercise! He's very nice too, knows how to treat a girl - as you do!"

She giggled, and arched an eyebrow in an invitation to agree to her plan. I sighed, and nodded.

"Thanks Colette, in any case, I think she needs to go to London in different circumstances from last time - lance the boil as it were."

She got her coat, then picked up her bag from Connie's room, said a few words to her, and then preceded me to the flat door.

"She doesn't know anything about London," she said quietly. "She's sitting on her bed wondering what to do. She's scared, Graham. It's up to you now."

She kissed me as only Colette could until I could feel my toes curling, so I kissed her back. We looked into each other's eyes, and I knew this was a last goodbye as far as sex was concerned, at least while I was with Connie. I thought it and she nodded.

"Thanks for everything Colette. You saved my life, I'll be forever grateful."

"Hey, kid, look after her like you have Zena, Harriet and me. Believe me, we're as grateful for you as you are for us. Have a nice holiday."

Another prolonged kiss, a mutual sigh and she left, no looking back.

I closed the door. They say as one door closes another opens. While physically her bedroom door did not open, I began to hope there could be another start with her. I hoped that quite desperately. Perhaps I was in love after all.

I looked at the clock, seven o'clock. I felt hungry. There was not much food in the house because we had been going to London the next day after a night in bed together. I sighed. I'd been doing a lot of sighing that day.

I did my standby meal that I did when I had little time or little resources. Omelette, cheese filled, grilled tomatoes to use them up, frozen peas, chipped potatoes. I cooked everything except the eggs, laid the table in the kitchen, then went to Connie's room. I knocked.

"Come in."

I went in, and found her sitting on the bed.

"Tea's... I'm sorry, Dinner's nearly ready,"

There was a half smile from her.

I went back and cooked the omelettes, then plated everything.

"On the table!" I shouted. She came pottering through to the kitchen, and sat at the table. I served her her plate and a mug of tea.

"Thanks Graham," she said, eyes down, and began eating. We ate in silence. I did not know what to say to break the ice, and resolved to wait until the end of the meal, which came rather too soon for my comfort.

"I'm going away for a few days' holiday tomorrow," I began, "and I want you to come with me."

She had been looking anywhere but at me, but now she met my eyes. She looked hurt.

"You don't trust me to be still here when you come back?' she asked.

I had not thought of that.

"No. I'm sorry if I'm giving you that impression. It's just that we need to talk and I'd planned on going away before you came back, so I thought it would be better if you were with me so we can talk about what's happened."

"Can I ask where you are going?" she said, staring at me.

"Will it make any difference?" I asked in return. "Can't you trust me? D'you think I'll strand you somewhere?"

She looked embarrassed. "Well, no. Of course I can trust you, I just wondered."

"You didn't trust me enough to phone me when you saw the report."

She reddened again. There was a short silence, then, "No, you're right."

"I want you to trust me on this, then. You don't have to come. Your choice."

"If you put it that way," she said, then seemed to make up her mind. "OK, I'll come with you.

"We'll be leaving early," I said. "You need to pack tonight. No breakfast in the morning, we'll get it on the way. Taxi will be here at nine sharp."

"What do I need to take?" she asked, and I realised this was more a problem for a woman than a man.

"Something nice for the evenings, three evenings, we're coming back on Saturday. Obviously warm clothing: it's winter. Good shoes or boots for walking, we'll be in town, but we'll be walking about."

I could see she was itching to beg me to say where we were going, but she did not. Before she went to Chester she'd now be making suggestive remarks about the nights. Not this time; the exuberant happiness from before had gone. She was uncomfortable, and come to that, so was I.

"I'll wash up," she said, "then I'll pack and get an early night. It's been very tiring..." she stopped and I did not know to which part of the day's events she was referring. I left the kitchen and went to pack. I had just finished, barring the toiletries I'd need for the next morning, and was leaving my room.

She came to me.

"Have you got a suitcase I can use?" she asked, "My rucksack will ruin my best clothes."

"Use mine," I said, "it's less than half full." I pointed to my medium sized case. "Will that be enough?"

"Plenty," she said, lugging it into her room.

"I've got a small shoulder bag, if you need it," I offered, "for carrying all that paraphernalia you women need."

"Thanks, but Zena bought me one," she said. A tentative smile.

I wondered if we'd ever get back that carefree happiness we had before. I hoped against hope that this trip would do the trick. She was in for a number of significant surprises.

I took my book to the living room and listened to the news before reading for an hour. Connie emerged after an hour and used the bathroom.

"Good night," she said, popping her head round the door.

"Good night," I replied. "Sleep well."

I put the flat to bed and went to bed myself. I slept alone; I had expected no different.

Wednesday 13 January 71

I awoke at seven, made tea and took a mug to Connie. I touched her on her shoulder and she opened her eyes.

"Tea," I said. "It's seven thirty." Then I left the room.

I was ready at eight thirty, having showered, shaved and the rest. I wore a conservative suit, shirt and tie, and a heavy overcoat, scarf, leather gloves and cap, mainly because it was easier to carry them on my back than in a suitcase.

Connie too had a shower but I noticed she kept well out of my way on her journey to and from the bathroom. At quarter to nine she emerged from her room carrying the suitcase and with her shoulder bag on her shoulder (where else). She was wearing a trouser suit with a blouse beneath and medium heels. She looked fabulous. She got a warm coat and scarf from the hall-stand and put it on, adding her own warm gloves.

I smiled in greeting and she, while clearly unsure, smiled back. It was such a begging smile that I had to restrain myself from taking her in my arms and being late for the taxi. As it was I took the suitcase from her and we left the flat and went down the stairs, arriving at the front door as the taxi arrived. From the time we arrived at Piccadilly Station I would have lots of fun seeing her reactions, and I hoped by the end of the trip we would be back where we started.

As we neared the barrier, she stopped. "Please don't tell me we're going to London!" She exclaimed unhappily. "You know London is my least favourite place."

"OK," I said gaily, "I won't tell you if that's what you want, but this train is the one we're getting."

"In that case, perhaps you'd better go alone. It's not fair putting me through this just because I've upset you."

At last she was beginning to assert herself against me.

"Connie," I said gently, "This is not a punishment. You had a bad time in London. I promise you on my honour, that this trip will lay the ghosts of that time, and reverse the feelings you have at the moment. Now, will you please trust me on this?"

She thought for some time; it was a good thing we'd arrived twenty minutes early for the train.

"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" she said at length. There was no smile.

"Yes," I replied seriously. "Absolutely sure that you will come back from London with a completely different attitude to that city. Connie, trust me."

"OK," she said very reluctantly, "but you'd better be right."

I thought that that particular exchange was between equals, perhaps for the first time since she'd joined me in my flat.

We walked down the platform to a first class carriage, and I stopped at the door. She made to go on.

"This is ours," I said.

"But it's 'first'."

"Yes, we have first class tickets."

Her astonished look was priceless.

"Come on," I said.

We entered and walked down the corridor to our compartment with its wide plush seats and arm rests. Our reserved seats were by the window, facing each other.

"Graham I... I've never gone first class before."

"How did you get to Bolton?"

"National Express," she said. "You know, the coach. Took six hours!"

"Well, this reverses that one," I said. "You'll go back to London first class. These new electric trains take just about two hours forty minutes."

She smiled at that, the first smile since we arrived at the station.

The train had only just pulled out of the station, when the compartment door slid open and the guard came in and punched our tickets, followed by a waiter. By which I do not mean the guard punched the waiter.

"Breakfast is served in the Dining Car," the unpunched waiter said, "You did order breakfast, sir?"

I nodded, and we left our places and went for breakfast, which was well cooked and followed by toast and coffee.

"Graham," she said, now all smiles after the meal, "This is just fantastic!"

Back in the compartment we were still the only occupants, time for a talk.

"I don't know how long we'll have the compartment to ourselves, so I think now would be a good time to talk, don't you?"

She looked uncomfortable, but nodded.

Unfortunately the train was just pulling out of a station, I think it was Stafford, and into our compartment came a middle-aged couple. Talking was off. I shrugged and smiled at her and she smiled back. We passed the odd comment about the scenery, or townscapes. Now and again she would give me an apprehensive look, and I would smile, I hoped reassuringly, back.

We each had a book to read and we settled down. I felt we were on our way, literally and hopefully in our relationship.

--

Chapter Twenty-Two

We arrived at the Chesterfield Hotel in a taxi, and she gasped. "Really? This hotel? I used to pass it often when I was homeless, and now... I never thought then..."

I signed us in and we took the lift to the top floor and to the suite. I noticed that the book showed us as 'Mr & Mrs'. Again she was in awe of the opulence of the room, her eyes sparkling. I was glad that Colette had given half the cost, for it was a very expensive suite for someone on my money, generous though my salary was. We were accompanied by a porter and our single bag.

He opened the door for us and wished us a happy stay; I tipped him and he withdrew.

The room was indeed luxurious, with a four poster bed in the bedroom area, and a three piece suite in the living area, a small dining table for two at the window, and a sideboard. The bathroom was huge and the free standing bath with claw feet sinfully ornate. There was a bowl of fruit and some canapés on the sideboard.

I gestured to her to sit on the sofa, and I took an armchair.

"You were coming here alone? To all this?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I was coming here with Colette."

Her face fell. "You'd given up on me then?"

"Two weeks and I'd heard nothing. I'd phoned your house and your mother said you weren't there. Obviously she wouldn't tell me where you were. I was very depressed. Colette told me I needed a break. This was it."

"Colette?" she said with worry all over her face. "She gave up all this for me?"

"Yes," I said with a smile. "She had a contingency plan - a boyfriend with plenty to offer her in Sheffield, if you follow my meaning."

Her smile told me she did.

"But can you afford all this?"

"Colette is paying half," I told her, "She insisted. A sort of late Christmas present."

I paused, "Connie, would you have phoned me? Written?"

"I really don't know," she said reflectively. "I was destroyed when Penny showed me the report. I've been abused so often and I'd trusted you completely because you were so different, and suddenly you were as bad as all the others. I couldn't cope with that."

"But your father?"

"He didn't comment but we were only together there one day and he was away again. All there were at home were Penny, Mother and me, and Penny and I came back on New Year's Day so she could be ready for school starting. I needed more clothes. I told Mother I ought to phone you and finish with you properly, but she put a stop to that. She said she would come over and help me collect all my stuff one afternoon, and then I could phone that evening to give you your marching orders.

"I told her I would only take what I absolutely needed. She said I should take it all - it was really a bribe from your women to con me into your lifestyle. I told her in that case I would phone you and tell you as much. She immediately gave in and told me to do it my way, but not to phone until I was well clear, and not to believe your story - you were a lawyer and could be very persuasive. I would be taken in, and that would be disastrous for me.

"So I took her advice and didn't phone. I know you said she hated you, but I never realised how much."

"So you might have got in touch?"

She shrugged. "I was so torn. I hated all your lies and how much you'd hurt Penny, but on the other hand, I wanted you so badly that I didn't care what you'd done. Then it seemed so out of character for you - you didn't behave like the other men had, but the evidence seemed so strong I was perplexed and had in the end to accept it.

"So eventually I think I would have. I wanted to give you a piece of my mind, but only later, when I was well over you."

"Eventually might have been too late."

"Graham I am truly sorry, and I don't know how I can make it right again." Her eyes pooled with tears.

"I don't think we need any more apologies," I said. "Sorry's been said, and I accepted it. As you say, the problem is how to make it right again."

"Colette said that it hit you as hard as it did when Penny cut you off," she said.

"Yes, that's true," I agreed. "I simply couldn't believe it had happened again. I couldn't understand why you should behave exactly like she did, after all, even if what Penny believed I had done was true, what had I ever done to you?"

"You know that it will never happen again, don't you?" she said quietly. "I won't care what anyone tells me about you, I'll always know I can trust you, and you'll always be honest because that's who you are. The lies came from somewhere else. I won't be taken in again, not by her. In a way, it's made that solid for me."

"I don't mind you having suspicions," I replied. "It's remembering to talk about it. That's what counts."

"I don't think you'll ever give me reason to suspect you of anything."

"I need to be sure of that," I said, "and it will take time for me to be sure, but Colette said it was obvious to her from how I despondent and depressed I became when you didn't come back. I reacted exactly as I had with Penny, and Penny had been with me for over a year. You and I had been together only a week! She couldn't understand how I couldn't see it, since it was so obvious to everyone else."

"I'm sorry?" she looked puzzled. "Colette said it was obvious? What was obvious?"

"That I'm hopelessly in love with you Connie, and she's right, I am."

She jolted upright. "Graham, did you just say what I think you said?"

"If what you think I said is what I said, then yes, I did say that!" It was my standard response to that question, and I was starting to feel it was getting stale and time to give it a rest.

"Stop it, Mr Lawyer!" she reproved me. "Tell me again."

"I love you Connie."

"Again?"

"Don't push your luck! You heard!"

"After all the hurt I-"

"I wouldn't have been so hurt and depressed if I didn't love you so much. Look, you made a mistake. You've told me again and again how sorry you are. We forgive one another, it's part of being human, being a couple. It means we put it behind us and try to move on without it."

Guess what happened then? Yes, if there were tears in her eyes before, now she began to weep in earnest. What can you do? She was happy; at least I hoped so.

It turned out she was happy; she was smiling through her tears.

"I don't deserve you," she said.

"True," I said with superior smile, and seeing her outrage immediately followed by guilt, I hurriedly followed it with "For goodness' sake, Connie, stop this self-abasement! You've been through ten kinds of hell in London and after, and you've come out strong. I've not had anything like the suffering you've been through, apart from one failed love affair with your sister, which compared with what you went through in this fair city, was peanuts. So let's give the guilt trips a rest, eh?"

"I don't know about that," she said, "but I know I love you very much as well."

"It's just after two. Dinner is at seven. What could we possibly do to kill five whole hours?" I hoped my expression was suitably lustful.

At last, realisation! An open, guilt-free and knowing smile spread over her face. She stood, kicked off her shoes, slipped off her jacket, pushed down her trousers, unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. Now she was in her cream lace bra and briefs, her suspenders and dark stockings, but there was no posing. She reached behind and unclipped her bra, allowing it to fall forward to the plush carpet, slipped off her knickers, bending to push them to her feet, when she stepped out of them. Then she stood before me, wearing a smile, stockings and suspender belt, and waited.

I smiled, looked her up and down as lustfully as I was expected to do, then surprised her by going to the bathroom and bringing out a bathrobe. She looked puzzled.

There was a knock at the door. She panicked and reached for the robe, which I devilishly snatched it out of reach.

"Come in!" I shouted and gave her the robe, which she hurriedly put on, turning her back as the door opened and a waiter came in with a bottle of champagne and some nibbles to add to the petits fours on the sideboard. Perhaps he got the merest flash of a stocking top.