First Friends (50 page)

Harriet replaced the receiver and stood for a moment paralysed with panic. He had sounded like a stranger to her and she felt it impossible that he should be about to enter her life, her cottage and, finally, even her own body as though he were anything else. His voice had sounded full of excitement and something else. After a while Harriet realised what it was. He had sounded like a naughty, small boy who was about to perpetrate some dreadful trick on his elders, as though the whole thing was a lighthearted joke. At that moment something shifted a little within their relationship. Always in the past Harriet had seen Tom as the older man, the senior officer, the next generation.
He had always seemed so much more mature than Ralph and she had always felt flattered by the attention that he had showed her, his predilection for her company. Ralph's deference towards him had underlined the feeling and he had always made her feel rather young and inexperienced and shy. It was he who had made all the moves in the relationship so far and Harriet liked his air of command. She didn't want to feel she was someone he was amusing himself with whilst congratulating himself on pulling the wool over Cass's eyes. She did not wish to enter into a kind of conspiracy with him as if they were two small children defying and hoodwinking their elders. She wanted to think of him as strong, confident and desirable and it was a different Harriet that went to greet him. She opened the door and he bounded in, enveloping her in a huge hug.

‘What wonderful luck!' He was jubilant. ‘Fancy the boat coming in unexpectedly just when Cass is away for the weekend. I can have you all to myself. I can't believe it!' He was too hyped-up to notice her reservation. ‘I had a shower, grabbed a bag and came straight over. Thank God Cass left your letter lying about. Let me look at you. Mmm. Delicious. But you've got too many clothes on.'

He slipped his hands up beneath her jersey and she felt a spurt of irritation.

‘Hang on a minute!' She made herself smile at him. ‘You haven't told me what you think of my cottage yet.'

He gave a perfunctory glance round.

‘It's great! But you're nicer. Oh, Harriet, I've missed you. Come and give me a kiss!'

‘Tom!' She began to laugh, mainly with exasperation. ‘You're impossible! Is this what Cass has to put up with when you come home from sea? You've hardly said hello.'

He began to look sulky.

‘I didn't realise that you'd want to go through all the formalities,' he said, rather childishly. ‘I hoped you'd feel as I do.'

Careful! thought Harriet.

‘I probably do feel as you do,' she replied calmly, ‘but you've had a
bit of time to get used to the idea. I haven't heard from you for weeks and suddenly here you are. I need a moment to adjust.'

‘After all, we did agree not to write.' Tom sounded aggrieved. ‘I didn't even have your address. If I'm in the way I'll push off.'

Harriet had never seen Tom's peevish side and began feeling he was a stranger. Over the years she had built up a picture of an idealised figure which she now realised had nothing to do with the real man. Panic stirred again and she pushed it down.

‘Don't be silly. It's lovely to see you and I'm as thrilled as you are. It's just a bit of a shock, that's all. It seems so long ago that we were together that I was beginning to think I'd dreamed the whole thing.'

‘I'm sorry, love.' He was all penitence. ‘I'm a selfish bastard, I know.' Admitting it, apparently, seemed to excuse it, even make it acceptable. ‘I haven't stopped thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you it was just too much. You'll have to forgive me.'

This time she didn't avoid his embrace and a few moments later they were in Harriet's bedroom, her clothes scattered across the floor.

Afterwards, Harriet made omelettes whilst Tom sat at the kitchen table watching her.

‘The problem is,' she spoke her thoughts aloud, ‘that I suppose we daren't go out together.'

‘I must admit it is a bit close to home.' Tom poured himself another gin and tonic. ‘It's marvellous to have you down here but it's going to be a bit tricky. Still, you won't be here forever, will you?'

‘What are you suggesting?'

‘Well, only that this is a temporary move, isn't it? When you buy your own place you can be a bit further out, you don't need to be so close, do you?'

‘Close to what? I shall be working in Tavistock, remember.'

‘Quite, but you don't have to live right on top of the office, do you? Surely you won't mind a bit of a drive to and fro.'

‘Anything to oblige.'

‘What does that mean?'

‘Well, I wouldn't want to put you out. Don't worry about any
inconvenience to me.' She turned some sliced potatoes cooking separately in another pan, wondering what had come over her. Sex—or should she call it love-making?—had left her irritable, empty.

‘Hang on a minute.' Tom got up and went to her, turning her by the shoulders to face him. ‘What's the matter?'

‘Nothing.' She tried to twist away from him. ‘Look, let go, or the omelette will burn.'

‘Sod the omelette! I want to know what's going on. You've been behaving strangely ever since I arrived. What is it?'

‘Oh, I don't know.' She stopped struggling and relaxed in his grip. ‘I suppose I feel you're taking me over a bit too much. You come in, out of the blue, expect to lay me at once, practically on the hall floor, and then start telling me where to live. It just seemed a bit much, that's all.'

His hands dropped abruptly away from her.

‘I see. Anything else?'

‘What else should there be?'

‘I don't know.' He sat down again at the kitchen table. ‘Perhaps I should have said “who” else?'

‘Who else? What d'you mean?'

‘Well, if I had to guess I'd suggest that chap you were living with the last time I was home, Michael, is it?'

To her horror she found herself blushing.

‘Rubbish! I've known Michael for years. Why does it have to be someone else? I've told you exactly what it is. Or is it that you prefer to think that it's someone else rather than your own behaviour?' What am I saying! she thought aghast. What am I doing?

Tom stood up and moved his chair back under the table.

‘OK. I can take a hint. Why didn't you just say so at once? I don't know what's happened, Harriet, but you've changed. You always seemed such a warm, gentle, feminine person but now I'm beginning to wonder if I know you at all.'

‘For warm, gentle and feminine read infatuated, weak and ready to be used! I don't think we know each other at all, Tom. I think we've
had a very idealised view of one another which was bound to dissolve once we came into close contact. The point is, do we want to get to know the real people underneath?'

‘I don't know.' Tom shoved his fists into his pockets. ‘This is a hell of a shock.' He managed to look both pathetic and cross. ‘I was so looking forward to being with you.'

She felt both impatient and sympathetic but the inevitable feelings of guilt stirred.

‘Well, you still can be. I just want it to be real and not pretend.' She went to him and slipped her arm through his. ‘We're old friends, that must count for something. Shall we try again?'

‘If you really want to.' He looked down at her and she saw that she'd shaken his confidence as well as annoyedp him. The guilt became stronger.

‘Of course I do,' she lied. ‘Where shall we start?'

‘Let's go back to bed.' He looked much happier; more in control, of himself and the situation, and, unlike Michael, he had no doubt as to his abilities in the bedroom. ‘It's always a good place to start.'

Biting back a retort Harriet switched off the hotplates.

‘You don't want to eat first?'

‘I couldn't. I just want you. Oh God, you gave me a fright, Harriet. Come over here.'

She went to him praying that she could put up a good performance. It was going to be a very long weekend.

F
OR
C
ASS THE WEEKEND
passed in a haze of sunshine, mellow wines, good food and love-making. Nick was tender, exciting, thoughtful and untiring. If this is an older man, thought Cass at one deliriously exciting moment, you can keep all the young ones!

They walked across the Long Mynd hand in hand and embraced, knee deep in heather, with the sunshine warm on their shoulders and the wind tugging gently at their hair. They explored Offa's Dyke and Clun Castle and drove to Bishops Castle and Shrewsbury. In the evenings, Cass exchanged her tweed skirt and Aran jersey for the calf-length suede skirt
and long, supple leather boots; a soft, woollen shawl flung round the silk shirt. Nick wore a fine wool grey suit with a silk shirt and tie and thus attired they sallied out to eat. They made a handsome couple. They had decided to make the small room at the Bear ‘their' place and went there on each of the three evenings. They called the waiter, George, by his Christian name and delighted in his special attentions.

‘You'd think he'd known us for years,' whispered Cass, lifting a little spray of flowers put specially by her plate, as George left the room with their order.

‘People don't have to know you years to love you, my darling. It's instantaneous. Look how it was with me.'

‘Nonsense!' They'd already discussed this ad nauseam.

‘What can I do to make you believe me? Wait ‘til we get back home, I'll show you then!' And they smiled at each other, delightfully, secretly, in the candlelight.

On Sunday night, however, clasped in Nick's arms, Cass watched the firelight flickering in the room below them and felt miserable.

‘Nick,' she whispered and felt his arms tighten around her, ‘I don't want to go home tomorrow. I want to stay here with you.'

‘Darling.' She felt his lips move against her hair. ‘I'd like that too, but you know it's impossible.'

‘Why?' She felt his chest move as he chuckled.

‘You know very well why, my love.'

‘I don't. There's no real reason why we can't always be together like this.'

‘It wouldn't be like this. I'm a partner in a busy practice and I have to work. And what about our families?'

‘You haven't got a family.'

‘I have Sarah to look after. I could hardly abandon her, could I? She's older than I am, you know, and she's been a loyal wife.'

‘Yes, but you say there's nothing between you any more, you have separate bedrooms and different interests. Wouldn't she give you your freedom if she were well provided for? We're so good together, Nick.'

‘Ah, my darling. Don't you think I haven't thought about it? Of course I have. But it's not something to be entered into lightly, you'd probably tire of me in a fortnight.'

‘You know that's rubbish!'

‘How sweet you are. Come here, my darling, don't let's spoil our last evening. We must be together again very soon and meanwhile we'll think very hard of what is to be done.'

And, as his lips touched hers and his hands moved against her skin, Cass felt that she'd give up family, friends, everything, if Nick and she could stay like this forever, in the little magic world she'd found here in the Shropshire hills.

I
WONDER, THOUGHT
H
ARRIET
, as she lay beside the sleeping Tom, how I could have been so obsessed by him for so long? The thought of him has dominated my life for years, like some long illness. It ruined my marriage and has all but destroyed any happiness I might have found with Michael. What a fool I've been, like a lovesick infatuated kid of fifteen. How am I going to tell him it's all over when it's only just started?

It was early Sunday morning and the weekend had indeed been a long one. They had patched things together on Friday evening but, for Harriet, the vital spark had been extinguished and without it she found the pretence an enormous strain. Tom, however, seemed to have been taken in by her efforts and for that she was grateful. He had decided that the idea of a mistress near to hand was very attractive. He had always taken his pleasures where he'd found them but now he was getting older a more permanent arrangement would have many advantages. Harriet had given him a rather nasty shock but he was already putting that down to feminine megrims or PMT. Nevertheless he felt that a few treats were in order. So he'd taken her to Exeter on Saturday and, praying that he wouldn't see anyone he knew, had given her lunch.

Later that evening they'd gone out to dinner at Grumpy's in Tavistock, Harriet in terror that she should see Michael but Tom, by now,
very blasé about the whole thing. As it happened it all went very smoothly but Harriet was finding it increasingly difficult to behave as though she were at the beginning of a relationship when she knew, in her heart, that she was at the end.

I should have told him at once, she thought now, edging cautiously across the bed. It would have been fairer. I'm just a coward.

‘Where are you off to?' Tom put out an arm and caught her round the waist. ‘Sneaking off when I wasn't looking.'

Oh, for God's sake, not again! Harriet bit back the words but resisted firmly.

‘Must go to the loo.' She prised away his hand. ‘Shan't be long.'

‘Mind you're not.' He rolled over and seemed to go back to sleep.

She picked up her dressing-gown and slippers and went out quietly. She could not, simply could not, face any more sex. Her whole body ached with it. He seemed indefatigable. They'd made love before rising on Saturday morning, on their return from Exeter and having arrived home from Grumpy's. Thank heavens he had to be back on the boat this afternoon!

On Monday morning Mrs Hampton and Jane Maxwell met by chance again on the step of the village shop. This time Mrs Hampton was going in and Jane was coming out.