The Runaway Woman (38 page)

Dave was lying awake when the knock on the door startled him.

Curious, and not too pleased at being disturbed, he scrambled
out of bed and put on his dressing gown. Going to the door he gingerly opened it, and almost fell over with shock when he saw Lucy standing there in her dressing gown, her wild brown hair looking tousled and damp, and her face clean and pretty as a child’s.

‘Lucy! What’s wrong? What’s happened?’

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Lucy said innocently. ‘I’ve come to see you … is that all right?’

‘Well, yes
… come in. Come in.’ His heart was thumping, but he could not understand why she was here. He wondered, but dared not let himself believe it.

Lucy sat on the bed, and after closing the door, he sat beside her. ‘Was it that small glass of wine you drank?’ he asked. ‘Is that why you can’t sleep? It’s my fault … I’m sorry, Lucy. You did say you don’t really drink alcohol, and I should not have persuaded
you to have the tiniest one … only I did want us to toast the wonderful memories we made together. I really am sorry. I should have known better—’ When Lucy got up as though to leave, he stopped halfway through the sentence. ‘Please, Lucy, don’t go.’

Lucy had no intention of leaving. Instead she walked round the bed, and climbed in. Then to his astonishment, she stretched out her bare arm and
patted the space beside her.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said, ‘and I’ve decided that we should listen to my friend’s advice.’ She looked up at him with big eyes, and a knowing smile that told him everything. ‘What do you think, Mr Benson? Should we listen to my friend’s advice?’

Dave was almost afraid to ask. ‘She’s the friend who thought you should “ravish” me. Am I right?’

Lucy nodded. ‘Yes!
So tell me, Dave Benson … do you think we should listen to my crazy friend’s advice?’ She felt wonderfully shameless and so bold and excited, it frightened her. But she was past caring. If she had learned anything these past few days, it was that life was for living. And why should she let it pass her by?

She looked across at Dave, who was gazing on her, and slowly shaking his head as though
not able to believe that Lucy was actually lying in his bed … inviting him in.

Lucy smiled up at him. ‘Well?’ That one word was enough.

Dave stripped off his dressing gown and, stark-naked, he climbed into bed beside her.

‘Lucy Lovejoy … oh, my beautiful … wonderful woman.’ The warmth of her smooth skin against his, felt amazing.

Tenderly now, he ran his fingers along her neck, and down, towards
her thighs. Wrapping his two arms about her, he drew her into him, surprised and thrilled when Lucy made no protest.

Instead, without a word, she carefully drew her nightgown over her head and sent it slithering to the floor.

A
FTER FALLING INTO
a deep sleep in the armchair, Martin woke with a start.

Momentarily disoriented, he sat up straight and glanced around, woolly-headed, not yet fully awake.

Paula! The first thought that came into his head was the divorce papers, and whether or not she would remember to take them in to the solicitors in the morning. Paula might know how to please a man, he
thought, but there were times when a man might be forgiven for wringing her neck.

Getting out of the chair, he began to walk up and down, slowly at first, and then in a panic. She’ll forget, he decided, I know she will … absent-minded, fluffy-headed, wonderful woman … that’s what she is.

He paced the floor a while longer, unsure whether to take matters into his own hands if the letter was ever
going to reach the solicitor. He could see he’d have to keep on at her, make her realise that the sooner she got the divorce papers lodged, the sooner they could get things moving towards their new life together.

He spread his hands over his face in despair. What to do? What to do? He didn’t want to risk losing her.

Calm down, man! he warned himself. You’ll go crazy if you keep on like this.
Paula said she would take the papers in tomorrow, and she will. And why would she not? She wants rid of that useless waster, as much as you do. If not more.

He began to feel calmer, more able to think straight, now that he was wide awake. Yes, she’ll take them in, he told himself, and the sooner Lucy gets back, the sooner she’ll know what I’m planning. There is nothing she can do about it. Me
and Paula are made for each other, and I won’t rest until the road is clear for us to be married.

The thought of putting a ring on Paula’s finger and spending the rest of his life with her was too exciting for words.

I don’t care how long it takes, or who gets hurt in the process, Martin decided. It’s what me and Paula want, and if her ex thinks he can drag his feet and put barriers up I’ll
make damned sure he rues the day!

Far from calming himself down, he was now wound up and ready for anything, so he made his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a calming brew.

By the time he had got out the tea-caddy and sugar, the kettle had boiled, but instead of making himself a cup of tea, he hurried down the hallway and put on his cap and coat. Growing increasingly agitated,
he found his house keys and let himself out of the house.

He started up the van, rammed it into gear, then drove at some speed down the street and onto the main road in the direction of Paula’s house.

Once he had eased the van into the alley, Martin was not surprised to see that Paula’s house was in complete darkness, except for the light over the back door.

He was now disgruntled. Huh! She
was the one who forgot to send the divorce papers, and he was the only one losing sleep … typical!

Then his mood changed from irritated to thinking that maybe he would get to spend the night with Paula. With Lucy gadding off like that, there was no one to worry where he might be.

Carefully, he parked his van in the bend as always, switched off the headlights, then made his way up to the house,
trying to avoid the wide beam from the streetlight that lit up part of the alley.

Arriving at Paula’s back gate, he had no idea he was being watched.

‘There! I was right … I said it was Martin’s van.’

During her nightly ritual, when she would look out of the bedroom window to make sure there were no prowlers lurking in the alley, Mary Taylor had seen Martin arrive.

‘He’s
heading for the house. Peter, come and see!’

Peter came to see, but only to pacify her so the two of them could get back to their bed.

Just then, when Martin seemed to glance up, they quickly stepped back a little.

‘He’s looking for trouble,’ Mary decided. ‘Why else would he come visiting at this time of night? It’s poor Lucy I feel sorry for – married to a cheating monster like that!’

Her
husband, Peter, was bone-tired. ‘Mary! I have no idea why he’s visiting his wife’s sister … nor do I think we should be monitoring the neighbours when we could be getting a good night’s sleep.’

Reaching over her, he closed the curtains, before gently taking her by the arm and leading her back to bed. ‘All right, so he’s visiting Lucy’s sister, but we already knew he was having an affair. Besides,
as I’ve told you before, many times, it is none of our business. For pity’s sake, Mary, if he really is looking for trouble, and he finds out that you’re spying on his every movement, he could just as well take his anger out on us.’

‘You’re right, of course you are.’ Mary settled back into bed. ‘Only … well, I’ve got such a bad feeling about all this business. Think of it, Peter. There’s Lucy
away, Martin is creeping round Paula’s house at all hours of the day and night, and Paula seems to be enjoying it all. It’s a bad situation and as far as I’m concerned, it’ll make for trouble. You mark my words.’

Peter smiled to himself. ‘Right, my dear, it’s all duly “marked”, as you say. So now, can we please get some sleep?’

‘Yes, of course.’

She closed her eyes, but was too restless to
sleep. Her thoughts went to Lucy, that dear woman who had never put a foot wrong, and would always do a good turn for a friend or neighbour.

Completely unaware that his every movement had been monitored by the watchful neighbour, Martin approached the back door. He raised his fist, and was about to knock when, on an instinct, he decided to try the door first.

Gently he turned
the door knob and gave it the slightest push. When the door opened he was both thrilled and furious. Stupid woman! Why was it she could never remember to lock the back door?

So as not to alarm her, he leaned inside and softly called out, ‘Paula?’ When there was no answer, he wondered if she was off out somewhere, but it was gone midnight, so where the hell could she be? And why hadn’t she mentioned
anything earlier?

He checked the kitchen and the lounge, and now he was on his way upstairs, careful to be quiet in case she was fast asleep. He did not want to alarm her.

As always, the landing light was on, but that did not concern him; at least not as much as did the back door always being open. She’ll get the length of my tongue for not locking the house up, he thought angrily as he neared
the bedroom. I’d best fix it somehow, so she can’t possibly leave it open. Only, just now he was not quite sure how he might do that.

He tapped on the bedroom door. He thought it best to let her know he was here, otherwise she could get a fright to see him creeping into her bedroom. ‘Paula, it’s me, Martin. You left the back door open again.’ When there was no answer, he raised his voice slightly,
and called again, ‘Paula! It’s me, Martin. Are you in there?’

Sounding sleepy, Paula’s voice gentled over to him. ‘Martin! What are you doing here? You say I left the back door open … oh, I forgot again. Go down, Martin … put the kettle on. I’ll only be a minute. OK?’

‘I’d rather come in.’ The idea of spending the night with her was very appealing. He opened the door and peeped in, to see her
sitting on the edge of the bed, looking drowsy.

‘Martin, for once will you do as I ask?’ she yelled. ‘Go down and put the kettle on! Please … I need the bathroom right now. Go on!’

Having woken her into a bad mood, his desire to get into bed with her had quickly faded. ‘Right!’ He backed off. ‘I’ll have the kettle boiled and the tea made by the time you get down. Don’t be too long. There’s something
I’d like to discuss with you.’

On the way there he’d had an idea that he was itching to run by her. He was hoping to persuade her that all in good time, after everything was settled, it might be sensible to sell up and move away from these parts. New life, new start, that’s what he fancied; away from anything and everyone.

After boiling the kettle, he got out the milk, sugar and two cups and
set them out on the kitchen table.

Going quickly down the hallway, he took a long look at the back door lock, trying to see how it could be made safer, or to somehow fix it, so that it might lock automatically. What Paula needed was simply a great big notice pinned to it, and maybe another one hung at the bottom of the stairs, so when she closed the door and when she went to bed she would see
the reminders.

He gave the mechanism one last inspection, and having now convinced himself that he would be spending the night in Paula’s bed, he began merrily whistling, delighted when he heard foosteps on the stairway.

He swung round smiling, only to be confronted with a heavy fist in his face, the force of which sent him hurtling to the wall.

‘So you thought you’d steal in while me and my
wife were in bed, did you?’

‘Bloody hell!’ Hurt and bleeding, Martin struggled to get up, but he was knocked back down again. Realising that he was no match for Paula’s husband, Ray, he stayed where he was. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He was more furious than afraid.

‘Well, now, before you came barging in – where you were neither invited nor wanted – my lovely wife and myself were having
such fun renewing our marriage vows …’ the big man grinned slyly, ‘… if you know what I mean? And then you spoiled it by butting in and would you believe, I had to climb out of my wife’s warm bed, and hide like a criminal in the bathroom.’ He tutted. ‘In my own house, with my own wife. It doesn’t seem right somehow, does it?’