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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

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BOOK: City Girl
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‘It’s the latest thing now,’ the world-weary sergeant had told Richard as, stunned and shaken, she had made her statement. ‘Leather is the fashion now. We get incidents
like this every night of the week. We’ll look into it, Ma’am. Go home and have a cup of tea and try and forget about it,’ he said kindly, patting her arm.

Caroline had gone on a drinking batter that lasted for three days.

Twenty-eight

A visit to London with her husband marked the nadir of Caroline’s existence. Richard liked to do his Christmas shopping in London. Like an Arab sheik, Caroline thought,
unimpressed. She dreaded it. He always made out lists and would spend hours searching for exactly what he was looking for. This year his mother had decided to come, and between the pair of them she
was almost demented. She disliked her mother-in-law intensely. Sarah Yates ignored Caroline and treated her son as though he was six years old. ‘Don’t argue with me Richard, I’m
still your mother,’ was her constant refrain and Caroline felt like telling her to shut up and let him alone. Sometimes she felt that Richard had never grown up in his relationship with his
mother and he was constantly seeking her approval – approval that was always withheld.

‘I won an important case today, Mother,’ he would inform her proudly.

‘I should think so,’ would be the response. ‘Your father would expect it of you.
He
never lost in court.’ Only by the grim tightening of Richard’s lips
would Caroline know how much this annoyed her husband.

She would feel like yelling, ‘You stupid old bat! Why can’t you say well done for once and give him his moment of pleasure and glory?’ But she never did and so it went on.

Now she had to put up with Sarah coming to London with them. It was a horrific weekend. Sarah had criticized everything, from the flight to their hotel accommodation, her haughty nasal voice
grating on Caroline’s already taut nerves. She needed a drink badly but Richard had refused to let her drink at the airport or on the flight. He was afraid that it might start a binge and
even more afraid of what his mother would say if she caught her daughter-in-law knocking back the vodkas.

They had spent the day shopping, pushing their way through the pre-Christmas throngs until Caroline was exhausted. Sarah thrived on it; she had come to London to shop and shop she would. If she
had to go into every store twice until she was satisfied with her purchases, so be it. By the time they got back to their hotel, Caroline had visibly wilted. They were supposed to be going out to
dinner and a show that Richard had managed to get tickets for, but all Caroline wanted to do was to have a drink and go to bed.

Wearily informing them that she was too tired to go, she sank into an armchair and kicked off her high heels. She shouldn’t have worn the bloody things, they were murder on her feet.

Richard was furious. She could see it in the coldness of his eyes. Ah to hell with him, she thought tiredly, she’d had enough. Let him go with his mother so she could have a few blissful
hours alone.

‘I’ve bought the tickets, Caroline, and they were damned expensive and hard to get,’ Richard snapped. ‘Mother will be terribly disappointed if you don’t
come.’

‘No she won’t, Richard!’ Caroline retorted tartly. ‘And I’m not going and that’s final.’

Richard’s mouth dropped open. Caroline
never
answered him back and she always yielded to his wishes. Caroline could see his surprise. Well this time she was doing what
she
wanted. Her stubborn streak came to the fore as he persisted.

‘Go on and get ready,’ he insisted.

‘No, Richard, I told you I’m too tired to go.’

‘You’ll enjoy it.’ He changed his tack and started wheedling. ‘It’s the show everyone is talking about. Martin and his wife were over last week and they raved about
it and Shaun O’Rourke was mad because he couldn’t get tickets for it.’

‘Richard, for the last time I’m too tired and I’m not going. Give Shaun O’Rourke my ticket when we get home,’ she said irritably.

‘I just don’t know what gets into you, Caroline. You can be most ungrateful. We were lucky to get those tickets. Lots of people would give their eye teeth for them.’ He angrily
shed his suit, which was still immaculate despite the travel and shopping.

‘Bully for them!’ Caroline muttered drily, observing her husband’s bony knees. Richard’s legs were not his most attractive feature. Grimfaced he marched into the bathroom
and Caroline reflected wryly that in all the time they were married, she had never seen her husband completely naked, except for the time she had seen his bare buttocks when he had left the room in
disgust after their disastrous attempt at normal lovemaking. Richard was such a prude as regards appearing naked in front of her. It was hard enough to get him to wear something casual instead of
his perennial suits. She heard of a guy she knew who was so addicted to suits he even wanted to bring one to Cyprus on holiday until his girlfriend got her hands on it. She should introduce Richard
to him; they’d be well . . . suited! Smiling at her little private joke, she heard a smart rap on the door and knew it was Sarah Yates. It was no wonder Richard was the way he was with a
mother like her.

When her mother-in-law saw that she wasn’t ready, she frowned. ‘Aren’t you changing? You’d want to hurry – we’ll be late!’ she remonstrated.

‘I’m not going. I’m too tired,’ Caroline informed her crisply.

‘Oh come on now, Caroline. You’ll feel much better when you’re showered and dressed,’ Sarah said authoritatively.

‘I don’t think so.’ Caroline’s tone was quietly firm. She’d had enough of the Yates family for one day.

‘Well really!’ expostulated Sarah huffily. ‘Richard’s gone to a lot of trouble to get these tickets for you. The least you could do is come with us.’

That’s right – start trying to make me feel guilty. Well tonight I just don’t care. I just want to be alone . . . I just want a drink, Caroline thought determinedly. She was
dying for a drink. She hadn’t had one all day and if they didn’t go soon, she didn’t care, she was going to have one sent up from the bar.

Finally, with freezingly polite goodbyes, they went and she was deliciously, delightfully alone. Ordering a bottle of vodka from room service, she ran a hot bubble-bath. Her clothes were stuck
to her skin after the long day of travel and shopping. It was so good to get out of them. Her vodka arrived and, clutching it to her bosom, she slid gratefully into the bath. It was pure bliss. As
she lay in the warm sudsy water sipping her third drink she realized with surprise that she was hungry. The vodka had started to work; she no longer felt tense and strung out so she decided to make
the most of her precious few hours of freedom. A peaceful meal was just what she needed.

Dressing in a soft baby-pink angora dress that clung to her slender figure like a glove, she lightly made up her face, sprayed some
White Linen
on her neck and wrists, had another drink
and glided down to the dining room, untroubled – thanks to the vodka – by any feelings of guilt about missing the show. The dining room of the luxurious hotel was quite full but the
head waiter showed her to a table in a discreet alcove. The meal was delicious: melon with Sauternes followed by poached salmon in a creamy chervil sauce and crisp lightly-cooked vegetables. This
banquet was concluded with the most deliciously sinful mouthwatering chocolate gateau she had ever eaten. Everything was washed down with a carafe of light sparkling wine.

Utterly relaxed, Caroline strolled past the bar on her way to the elevator and on impulse decided to have a nightcap. She didn’t want to go back to her lonely room. To hell with it!
Everyone else was enjoying the season that was in it. So would she!

Caroline ordered a double brandy, enjoying its comfort, enjoying the soothing hum of conversation that rippled around her, oblivious of the many admiring glances that were coming her way. A tall
distinguished-looking man who had been drinking alone at the bar came over and offered to buy her a drink.

‘Why not?’ she said gaily, her inhibitions completely overcome by the alcohol she had already consumed. He was Spanish and his accent was vaguely reminiscent of Paulo, her Portuguese
boyfriend of so long ago. The way his black glittering eyes admired her sent delicious tingles of longing through her body. Since her marriage to Richard she had begun to feel almost sexless.

‘What is a beautiful woman like you doing all alone in a big bad city like London?’ her Spanish admirer wanted to know as he handed her the brandy she had ordered.

‘I’m a business woman, Señor . . . ?’

‘Forgive me, I did not introduce myself. I am Ramon Santander Rameriez. And you?’

Caroline smiled at the handsome man sitting beside her. He was just gorgeous, she decided. So dark and Latin, virile-looking, warm, admiring, everything her husband was not.

‘I’m Caroline Stacey,’ she said, giving her maiden name, ‘and I work selling holiday properties all over Europe for an auctioneering firm. That’s why I’m in
London at the moment.’ She gave a little giggle at her fibs. Well it sounded much more interesting than saying she was a stuck-at-home housewife.

‘How fascinating,’ Ramon murmured, his black eyes observing her admiringly.

‘What do you do?’ she asked, staring right back at him.

‘Oh I’m a diplomat. I’m en route to the UN. I had some meetings in London,’ he informed her lightly. Caroline loved his sexily accented voice and the way he looked at her
with such warmth.

‘That must be very exciting,’ she responded, smiling back with just as much admiration herself.

‘To a degree,’ he said and raised a dark eyebrow, ‘but you know yourself, a life of travel is a very lonely one.’

‘Oh very,’ she agreed, believing her own fantasy in her intoxicated state. Recklessly she consumed the next brandy he ordered for her, basking in his admiration as her mood became
even more gay and lighthearted, and her head a little light.

He was the most entertaining man she had ever met and she laughed and flirted with him quite uninhibitedly. By the time he had asked her back to his room, she was more than willing, excited by
the desire in his heavy-lidded eyes. ‘To hell with Richard and frustration,’ she muttered, her words slurring.

Ramon laughed. ‘I’ll drink to that, Carolina mia. Let’s have some fun.’ He led her along the hotel corridor; they were giggling and laughing as they went. She hoped his
room was over theirs. Tonight she was going to get royally laid and right at this moment she couldn’t care less if Richard was kept awake by the rattling of the bedsprings.

Her memories of the night were a blurry haze of pleasure. For the second time in her life she realized she had intense feelings below her neckline. The throbbings and tinglings of pure pleasure
that she experienced made her want more, and she kissed and caressed uninhibitedly, much to her lover’s delight. He was an experienced man and brought her to several powerful orgasms, each
time making her cry aloud with pleasure as years of frustration were wiped away and she realized all that she had been missing. They drank more brandy and made love in the shower, and on the floor
and once again in bed where she finally passed out in a satiated stupor.

When Caroline awoke her head felt like a ton of bricks and she was alone. A note pinned to the pillow next to her said ‘Gracias, Cara mia; you were the best lover I’ve known. If ever
you are in my part of the world, contact me. Yours with gratitude, Ramon.’ He left a number.

Oh God Almighty, what did I do? she thought weakly, trying to put the night’s events back into focus. Memories came flooding back and she blushed as she remembered her wanton behaviour.
Her fingers holding the note trembled. A thought struck her. Maybe she was pregnant! He hadn’t used a condom. An even worse thought came to mind. Oh God! Just say she had contracted AIDS! He
most certainly had slept around. Just one act of unprotected intercourse could cause a person to become infected. She’d seen the ads on TV. What on earth was she going to do? She made her way
to the bathroom and another thought struck her. Caroline stared at herself in the mirror. She looked wild-eyed and frantic, her face pale and hungover. She wasn’t in her own room. How was she
going to explain her absence to Richard? He’d wallop the daylights out of her. A vicious hammering at her temples made her groan. She couldn’t think about all this now –
she’d have a shower first. She must try and gather her wits about her. Assuming that the room was paid for until midday she wrapped a sheet around her naked body and swiftly hung the Do not
Disturb sign on the outside of the door. Heart in her mouth, her hands shaking, she stood under the steaming jets of water. She’d have to have a drink before facing Richard.

She only meant to have one drink, one to give her courage, but an hour later she had polished off the remainder of the brandy and was quite drunk again as she finally made her way to
Richard’s room. Caroline gave a delicate little hiccup as she eased the bedroom door open. In the bed, Richard stirred and his arctic eyes flew open.

‘Where the . . . ?’

‘I spent the night with a man,’ she informed him airily, cutting off his tirade before he had a chance to begin. She was feeling no pain – the brandy had been a life saver.
Richard’s stubble-lined jaw sagged in amazement.

‘Yesh Rhichard a real man. And you know shomthing?’ She hiccuped again. ‘Ish was a real pleasure . . .’

‘Jesus Christ!’ Richard flew out of bed. ‘You’re as drunk as a skunk. If mother sees you . . . !’

Caroline giggled, went to sit on the bed, missed and landed on the floor.

‘Thash all you’re worried about . . . your Mammie.’

‘Shut up, you stupid bitch,’ he hissed, but she was too drunk to care. All she wanted to do was to sleep. Dragging her up from the floor, Richard pushed her under the bedclothes,
pulled off her shoes and stood glaring at her. ‘Stay there and sleep it off. I’ll tell Mother you’ve a migraine.’

‘Tell her what you like,’ mumbled Caroline and passed out. There she stayed all that day with Richard hopping in and out every so often like a cat on a hot tin roof. Later, she
undressed and got into bed properly, sinking back into oblivion in the warm comfort of the bed. By evening she had recovered somewhat and was able to eat a little dry toast and drink some tea. The
fumes of brandy emanating from her pores decided Richard that his mother could not come in and see her. Not that she particularly wanted to see Sarah Yates.

BOOK: City Girl
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