Capital Sins (18 page)

He glowered
at her. 'I don't like people making fun of me!'

She
breathed deeply to steady herself. 'Sorry, but I couldn't help it. Come on,
don't look like that. Don't spoil things, Alan.'

'You've
spoiled things,' he said curtly.

'I said I
was sorry, didn't I? Aw, please, stop looking like a bear and come here ...
'She tugged at his arm.

He lay down
beside her again, but he wasn't smiling. She looked at him uncertainly. She
reached out a tentative hand and stroked his chest until she felt him begin to
relax.

'Still
pals, Alan?' she whispered coaxingly.

'
Dunno
,' he said gruffly, but she could see he was
softening.

She began
to touch herself, moving her body tantalisingly under her own manipulations. As
she sensed his eyes on her and his breathing grow quicker, she played with her
nipples until they hardened. Then she moved her hand down between her legs.

'Let me,'
he said urgently. She let him take over.

She stroked
his thick hair as he bit her nipples.
'Gently ... not so
rough.'
She could feel him getting excited again. 'Alan, I didn't mean
to laugh at you.' It was important to her that he should forgive her.

'Forget
it.' He didn't even raise his head.

'I ... I
wouldn't want to hurt your feelings. I ... really like you.' She had to make
him understand why she was letting him make love to her.

'OK, OK.'

'Do you ...
think you could ... learn to love me, Alan?'

'Can't you
stop your yakking?'

She felt
hurt. What was so wrong in exchanging words of love? They were making love
after all, weren't they? She stirred as he pushed her legs apart. Connie made a
small sound of protest, and he looked up at her.

'What is it
now?'

She cringed
at the note of impatience in his voice. 'Can't... can't we go a bit slower?'

'Slower?'

'Yes, I
mean, do you have to rush so much? Can't we ... talk a bit?'

'What the
hell do you want to talk for? Don't be so stupid!' He rolled her over on to her
front as if she were a sack of potatoes.

Tears
sprang to Connie's eyes, but she bit her lip. This wasn't how she wanted it to
be, wasn't how she'd imagined it. There was no love, no warmth. It was just an
act of sex without mutual understanding between them. She felt him spread her
buttocks and raised herself on her elbows to look around at him.

'Don't
... '

He ignored
her.

She felt he
was treating her like an object, as if she had no feelings. She didn't want to
be used like this. It shouldn't be so brutal – it was degrading and
humiliating. Cruelly he held her down and used her to satisfy his desires,
ignoring her pleas.

'Alan.
Stop!'
There was a note of hysteria in her voice now, but
either he didn't hear or chose not to listen. He penetrated her from behind.
Happily, she blacked out.

She didn't
know how much later it was when she recovered her senses. She was alone, with
only the tangled and stained counterpane to show he had been there. Connie
ached all over but, with an effort, hauled herself over to the mirror. Her hair
hung dishevelled over her shoulder, her face was streaked with tears and
make-up, the skin red and blotchy. Bruises were on her upper arms. It hurt to
walk, but she crossed the room and wrenched open the door. Not caring who heard
now, she pounded on
Tilly's
door and didn't stop
until it opened to show
Tilly
in her nightdress.

She yawned.
'What's up, kid?'

'Is Alan
here?'

'Here?
Nah.
I
s'pose
he left when Gary
did. Why, what's up?' She had noticed Connie's state. Her mouth dropped open. '
Gawd
, what went on in there?'

Connie felt
unbearably weary.
'Doesn't matter.'
She turned to go
but
Tilly
clutched hold of her.

'Tell me!'

Her anger
flared. 'Shove it,
Tilly
! Just leave me alone, will
you?'

Tilly's
hand dropped smartly as if she'd been burnt. 'Sure, but I was only trying to '
elp
.'

'Do us both
a favour and don't! I don't need help, certainly not yours!'

Connie
turned on her heel and dragged herself back into her room. Alone again, her
anger drained away, to be replaced by a frozen numbness and shock. Steeling
herself, she shrugged off her dress and crept between the bed covers to lie
there, trembling. She didn't think she would sleep but eventually, tired and
miserable, she did.

In the
morning, looking pale and drawn, Connie crept downstairs, only to be waylaid by
the landlady at the bottom.

'And where
do you think you're going, young lady? We've words to say, you and I!'

Connie's
hands fluttered to her forehead. 'I ... I've got a headache. I'm just on my way
to work
... '

'Headache
indeed!' the woman said scornfully. 'After last night's rumpus I should think
you would have more than a headache!'

'Please,
I'll be late, Mrs Withers. Can't this wait until I come home this evening?'

'I want
this cleared up now, Missy, because tonight this isn't going to be your home!'
She folded her arms, a righteous expression on her face.

Connie gave
her a piteous look. '
Wha
... what have I done wrong?'

'Hah! Don't
come
the Miss Innocent with me, it won't wash! You
know full well what I'm talking about, so don't you pretend! I wasn't born
yesterday
!I
heard you all
upstairs, drinking and larking around, and then you screaming afterwards! What
my neighbours will think, I don't know, but I saw them sailors nipping out very
sharpish
, so don't you try and fool me.' She smiled
triumphantly.

'I promise
it won't ever happen again
... '

'You're too
darned right it won't, I'm making sure of that, because tonight you'll pack
your bags. I'm not doing that for you, however much I want you out right now.'

Connie
looked troubled. 'But I've nowhere to go!' she said desperately.

'That's
your concern, not mine! I'm sure you'll find somewhere – perhaps you could
shack up on a ship, you'd like it there, wouldn't you!'

'I'm no
tramp,' Connie shouted, stung into defence.

The woman
ignored that. 'And I've given your pal
Tilly
Liner
the boot as well. It'll be good to be rid of both of you, giving this house a
bad name!'

'
Tilly
gone?
Where to?'

'I didn't
bloody ask her, and I don't give a damn either! I'm telling you all this now
from the kindness of my heart, because I can afford to be generous and you can
start while you're at work looking around for a new place!'

'Please,
can't you give me another chance?'

'Not bloody
likely!' And with that, Mrs Withers turned and marched into her room, banging
the door victoriously behind her.

Connie
wished she could go back to bed to curl up and die, but youthful resilience
asserted itself against her wishes and Connie struggled to Jessop House.

The lift
attendant frowned when Connie didn't answer his hello, but seeing her wan face
and dead-looking eyes.
didn't
say anything. When she
passed Miss Jacks in the corridor, the woman paused on seeing the girl.

'My
goodness, Constance, you look as if you've a bad hangover.'

She forced
a smile. 'I have,' Connie replied.

'Black
coffee's the trick,' the woman said briskly as she walked off.

Sheila
Delaney was writing when Connie entered.

'Heavens,
lovey
, what is it?' Sheila asked in consternation as the
girl came closer and she was able to see her face. Connie stood before her, an
abject and forlorn figure. Then her hand bag banged against her knees as her
resolve gave way, and her blonde hair flopped over her face as sobs racked her.

'Connie,
come and sit down!' She put an arm around the girl's shoulders and led her to a
couch. 'Now tell me all about it,' she said when they were seated.

From her
pocket, Connie took out a tissue, and blew her nose, then looked across at
Sheila from puffy eyes. 'It's all gone wrong!'

'What has?'

'I've been
thrown out of my room
... '

' ... You
told me you didn't like your landlady anyway. But don't worry, we'll find you
somewhere else.'

'I've got
to leave tonight. There's just no time
... '

'You can
stay with me until you get fixed up, no trouble. But why should she do such a
thing all of a sudden
... ?'

Connie hung
her head. '
Tilly
and I met two men last night, and
they came back with us. It ... it's because of them that
we're
having
to leave, but there's more, Sheila. It's worse than what I've
just told you
... '

'I thought
it might be,' Sheila said gently, looking at the girl's distraught face.

'Oh, I
don't care about them, about
him
,
I never want
to see him again! He ... Alan, one of the men, well, he ... raped me.' She
ended in a whisper, not daring to see the effect of her words on Sheila.

Hand clapped
to mouth, Sheila stared in horror.
'Oh, Connie!'
Her
mouth worked as she tried to find words of comfort, something that might
alleviate the shock. 'We'll find him, he's got to be punished ... Where does he
work?'

'He's ...
an officer on a ship.'

'What's the
name of his ship?'

Connie
shook her head dully. 'I don't know. He didn't say.'

'Well,
what's his name? We'll soon find out by phoning
... '

' ... No!
Please, Sheila, don't!' Connie gripped her hand so hard it made the other girl
wince. 'I don't want anything more to do with him; I just want to forget it
ever happened!'

There
followed a silence, which Sheila broke hesitantly. She chose her words with
care. 'Connie, did you . . . did you take precautions?'

Connie
shook her head,
then
raised her face quickly. 'Don't
worry, it'll be all right
... '

A wave of
anger shot through Sheila, not for the girl's foolishness, but for the unknown
man who was getting away scot-free. One look at Connie's pitifully white face,
and the anger was replaced by sympathy, tenderness.

'All right,
we'll do it your way,' she sighed. 'It's a shame you can't go home and rest
... '

'I'd much
rather
stay
here, Sheila,' Connie put in quickly and,
when the other nodded, went on: 'And I want you to know how grateful I am for
your being so understanding about it all, and especially for the offer of a
bed.'

'It'll be
nice to have company. Now,' Sheila became business-like, 'we'll have a coffee,
you take a couple of aspirins and, if you can, we'll get down to some work.
I've got a busy schedule today but, as you say, some hard graft probably will
be the best remedy for you.'

Later, when
Sheila was attending a meeting, Connie didn't waste time, but got on with what
she had been given. Now and then her mind wandered back, but she jerked herself
back to attention sharply. Samuel Jessop called in after a while and, although
he looked tired, with shadows under his eyes, he appeared his usual crisp and
immaculate self.

'Morning,
Miss Sands.'

'Mr
Jessop.'

'Miss Delaney out?'
He paused in his stride to look back at her.

'Yes, out,'
she repeated.
'At a meeting.'

'Urn, yes.
Is my mail sorted?'

'On your desk, sir.'

Just before
his door closed; he said: 'Be a good girl and get me a coffee, will you?'

She
finished the letter she had been typing, placed it neatly in the correspondence
blotter, and went over to the small
tab
!e
where the percolator was still bubbling hot. She poured out a cupful, added
cream and sugar,
then
took it in to him.

'I've made
out a list of calls that I'd like you to get,' Jessop said, handing her a sheet
of paper, 'and I want you to make some appointments for me ... ' His eyes
narrowed as he looked at her closely, and he didn't finish his sentence. 'Are
you feeling all right?'

She shifted
uneasily. 'Yes.'
Then added a second later, 'thank you.'