Read Semi-Detached Marriage Online
Authors: Sally Wentworth
'I thought you two were more or less through
before I came along. That Simon had gone to live in Scotland because you weren't
happy together.'
'No, it was because neither of us wanted to
give up our jobs.'
Tom frowned. 'Are you saying, then, that
you've never been unfaithful to Simon? That I'm the first man who's asked you?'
Cassie sat up straight and wiped her face
with his handkerchief. 'If you don't mind, I'd like you to go now. I'm very
tired.'
'Sure.' He stood up and looked down at her
where she sat on the settee, head bent, not looking at him. 'Are you sure
you'll be okay alone?'
'Quite sure, thank you.' But there was a
break in her voice that she couldn't disguise as another tremor of emotion ran
through her body.
'I'll call you tomorrow.'
'No, don't bother. I'll be all right.
Really.'
He reached down and gently touched her hair.
'You know, Cassie, when I first met you I thought that you were a typical
career girl, tough and self-sufficient, not really needing a man except as an
escort and for sex. Then I realised you weren't the type who would have a
casual affair, so I played it cool, but I still thought you were strong and
independent enough to shrug off a marriage that hadn't worked out.' He paused,
then added wonderingly, 'But now I see that I've been wrong about you all
along. Underneath that self-confident act you put on you're as soft and fragile
as delicate china. I'd no idea just how badly Simon had hurt you.' The pressure
of his hand increased for a moment; he said, 'Goodnight, Cassie,' rather
abruptly and then turned and let himself out of the flat.
He came back the following afternoon, ringing
the doorbell continuously when she didn't open the door after his first ring.
Cassie had slept late after not being able to get to sleep for hours the night
before. She had bathed and put on a housecoat, but her face was unmade-up, her
hair lying loose on her shoulders. She didn't say anything when she saw who it
was, just turned and walked ahead of him into the kitchen.
'I'm making coffee, would you like a cup?'
she asked without looking round.
'That would be fine.' Tom leaned against the
door jamb; it was raining outside and he had on one of those trench-coat type
macs that Americans always seemed to wear. He was watching her closely, broodingly
almost.
As she put out another mug, Cassie said
stiltedly, 'I'm sorry you were on the receiving end of my crying jag last
night.'
Unexpectedly, Tom answered, 'I'm glad I was.
It helped me to see things a whole lot clearer.' He stepped forward and put his
hands on her shoulders, gently but insistently turning her round to face him.
Then he kissed her, softly and very tenderly. 'You look so young today, so
vulnerable,' he murmured as he lifted his head.
Cassie bit her lip, started to say
determinedly, 'Look, Tom, I…' but just then the kettle boiled and she had au
stop and turn it off.
She carried their coffee mugs into the
sitting-room while Tom took off his coat, and she took care to sit in an
armchair instead of the settee. Tom sat down and watched her, making no attempt
to drink his coffee.
Cassie lowered her head, unable to meet his
eyes. 'Don't look at me like that.'
'Like what?'
'As if-oh, you know perfectly well what I
mean.'
'As if I think you're wonderful, d'you mean?'
Cassie's eyes flew to meet his, then as
quickly away again. 'N-no, that isn't what I meant,' she answered unsteadily.
'But it's true.' He stood up and took the mug
from her nerveless fingers, set it on the table so that the steam rose and
disappeared into the air. Then he pulled her to her feet and held her arms as
he gazed down into her face. 'Don't look so scared.' He bent to kiss her but
she turned her head away.
'Tom, I don't want this. Please stop.'
'I can't. You see,' he added, 'I've fallen in
love with you.,
Cassie turned to stare at him unbelievingly.
'But- but you can't have!'
He gave a lopsided grin. 'No two ways about
it, honey. I've fallen for you hard. I started off by just wanting you, but now
I love you, very much.'
'No!' She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't
let her.
'Yes, Cassie. I love you and I want very much
to go to bed with youto show you just how much I love you. I need you, honey.
And last night proved that you need me.'
'No,' she repeated, and this time succeeded
in pulling herself free. 'Do you know what you're saying?' she demanded
agitatedly. 'You're asking me to be unfaithful to Simon!'
'Yes, I suppose I am.'
But he didn't seem particularly disturbed, so
Cassie added forcefully, 'You're asking me to-to commit adultery!' The word
sounded all the more shocking for being said out loud, and they were both a
little stunned by it.
'That's an antiquated way of describing it.
Can't you just admit that marrying Simon was a big mistake?'
'I thought he was supposed to be a friend of
yours?' she said accusingly.
He shrugged. 'All's fair in love and war, Cassie.'
She began to feel angry and her lip curled
scornfully. 'What a useful little saying that is! People always trot it out
when they want an excuse for doing something wrong or underhand.'
Tom's tone hardened. 'Is it underhand to fall
in love? Is it wrong to want the fulfilment of that love?'
Her face paled and she answered in little
more than a whisper. 'No. No, it isn't.'
'And I love you, Cassie. So help me God, I
do.'
He made a move towards her, but she moved
away, her eyes wide and troubled in her pale face.
'It's- it's no use, Tom. I'm sorry, but I
can't.' She held up a hand to stop him as he began to speak. 'I know what
you're going to say: that if I didn't care for you I wouldn't have responded
like I did last night. And it's true, I do care for you.' She looked down at
her hands, gripping them together. 'I like you a lot. You've-you've made these
last few weeks bearable for me, and I'm very grateful.' She hesitated a moment,
then lifted her head and looked at him steadily. `But I'm not going to go to
bed with you, Tom. I'm just not the type. I couldn't live with myself
afterwards, and I most certainly couldn't go on living with Simon, not live
with him and pretend that nothing had happened. And anyway, it wouldn't be fair
to anyone. Not to Simon, to me, or most of all you.'
'Just how do you work that out?'
'Because you'd never know whether I was doing
it because I wanted to, or just because I was lonely and needed someone, or
even,' she bit her lip, 'or even just to punish Simon. I wouldn't even know why
myself,' she added slowly.
There was a long pause before Tom said
hollowly, 'Yeah, I see what you mean.' He came to her and took hold of her
hands, that were still agitatedly entwined, held them firmly in his own. 'Okay,
so we'll get married.'
Cassie stared at him bug-eyed and opened her
mouth to protest, but Tom put his hand over it.
'Don't say anything yet, just think about
it. Divorce is easy nowadays and you wouldn't have to do a thing; I'll get my
lawyers to arrange it. We could be married within months.'
Slowly he took his hand away as she continued
to stare at him. 'But I-but I don't know that I want to marry you.'
He grinned suddenly. 'Do you know that you
don't?'
She shook her head, putting her fingers up
tiredly to her temples. 'I don't know anything any more.'
Tom left soon after, left her to sit alone
wondering what to do. At times she was angry with Tom for having forced her
into this, at other times glad because she knew she had to do something, she
couldn't have gone on for much longer as she was. But most of all she hated
Simon for ruining her life, for taking away her happiness and security, for even
giving another man a chance to come into her life. At eleven o'clock, when it
was perfectly obvious, even to the wildest hope, that Simon wasn't going to
phone yet again, Cassie picked up a large vase that had been a wedding present
from one of his relations, and hurled it against the wall with all her
strength, shattering it into a dozen pieces.
She refused to give Tom an immediate answer,
even though he pressed her to. She said that she wanted time to think it over,
but perhaps she was subconsciously still hoping that Simon would phone or come
home, but conscious hope was nearly dead.
About that time a new problem arose at work:
Mrs. Nichols, the buyer who had been put in temporary charge of the whole
fashion department, put her foot down and refused to allow Cassie to make any
more changes in her departments until they'd seen the re-suits of the ones she
had already made. They had an argument about it and Cassie went over her head
to Mr. Jepps, the head buyer, and to her surprise and resentment he backed up
Mrs. Nichols. Oh, he was nice about it, and sympathetic up to a point, but
insisted that Mrs. Nichols was in charge and that Cassie had to be governed by
her decisions.
Going back to her office, Cassie threw
herself down into her chair, thoroughly fed up, all her bright dreams for the
new departments disappearing into a haze of red tape and petty officialdom. Moodily
she looked at her desk where she had been designing a new carousel type layout
for the separates department that would display every colour range for the
sweaters and cardigans. Picking up a thick, felt tipped pen, she viciously drew
two great lines across the drawing.
Sue happened to walk into the office at that
moment and stared in consternation. `What on earth…?' Cassie
stood up decisively and picked up her bag.
`Come on, Sue, we're going out to lunch.'
'But it's not even twelve o'clock!'
'So what? We're going anyway.'
Instead of going to the staff restaurant, Cassie
marched out of the store and down a side street to a pub. She bought them each
a drink and then told Sue what had happened. They discussed it at some length,
but they both knew that there was nothing they could do.
'It's just bureaucracy gone mad,' Cassie
complained.
'Just because Mrs. Nichols has been there
since the year dot they have to put her in charge. But her ideas are way out of
date, Sue, they really are.' She lit another cigarette
straight after the last and drew on it gloomily.
'You're smoking too much,' Sue told her.
'I know.' Cassie looked at the cigarette
distastefully and ground it out. 'I don't even like the things.' She glanced at
Sue. 'You're smoking too,' she pointed out. Sue didn't say anything and after a
moment Cassie asked rather uncertainly, 'How's Chris? Is he still doing that
extra work?'
The younger girl didn't answer straightaway,
sat looking at the smoke rising from her cigarette, then, her voice
over-bright, she said, 'Oh, he's fine. He's still working late a lot, only…'
her voice broke, 'only I don't think he's working at all, I think he's found
another woman!' And tears spilled down her cheeks.
'Oh, God!'
Hastily Cassie pulled a hanky out of her bag and thrust it into Sue's hands. 'Come
on, let's get out of here.'
She led Sue into a nearby park where they
found an empty bench, and there Sue poured it all out; her growing suspicions,
the telltalc hairs on his jacket and smudges of lipstick on his shirt. 'And
then-and then,' poor Sue sobbed on, 'I walked into the bathroom one night while
he was showering and he had scratches down his back and-and a bite mark on his
shoulder.' 'Did you-say anything to him?'
Sue shook her head. 'No, I couldn't.' She looked
at Cassie. 'Why do you think he did it? I know I'm not very experienced because
there wasn't anyone before Chris, but I'm not frigid, or anything. And we've
been married such a short time.'
'I don't know.' Cassie shook her head grimly.
'I'm the last person you should ask. What arc you going to do?'
Sue sighed. 'I don't know. But I'm not going
to let him 'go on deceiving me,' she added with sudden strength. 'I'm going to
tell him that I know. Then he can either give this woman up, whoever she is, or
leave.'
'And if he chooses to stay,' Cassie asked,
'will you be able to forgive him?'
Her eyes dark and troubled, Sue thought for a
moment, then answered slowly, 'Yes, I think I'll be able to forgive him because
I love him and need him, but I don't think I'll ever be able to forget what
he's done.'
Cassie could think of nothing else but her
conversation with Sue all day, it pushed everything else to the back of her
mind. The poor girl had been so unhappy, her whole life shattered. Oh, God, why
did men have to be such swine? She sat at home brooding about it for a long
time, staring at the phone as she'd sat and stared for so many nights, then she
slowly picked up the receiver and dialled Simon's number.
For a few minutes, when he answered, she
couldn't speak. It had been so long since she'd heard his voice, such a long
time.