Capital Sins (6 page)

The money
and drink had flowed freely that night and, to her last partner of the evening,
one Philip Dual, Connie had given her telephone number. He had seemed just the
sort of young man of whom a mother would approve. She wasn't like
Tilly
, merely out for a good time, contented with the
present, oblivious of the future – not Connie. She wanted to love and be loved,
and didn't care a hoot if
Tilly
called it idealistic
nonsense. Marriage to her meant security and stability and, while not against
having a good time, she knew what she wanted from life. She wanted permanency
and a home, and on meeting Philip Dual, impulsive Connie was already making
plans for the future. There was no reason why she shouldn't be optimistic –
life was rosy. She'd made two good friends who'd filled a need in her
emptiness:
Tilly
was the mate whom Connie shared fun
with, while Sheila was the good influence, an understanding person in whom
Connie found an interested listener. Before long she had told Sheila all about
herself – later, about her meeting with Philip Dual. They had stopped for a
break. Sheila had been busy arranging meetings and was looking through her
diary to make sure that engagements didn't overlap.

'You're
doing well for a newcomer,' Sheila had grinned as she spooned sugar into her
cup.

Connie knew
she wasn't referring to her work. She nibbled at her biscuit. '
Tilly
knows all the places. You'll have to meet her,
Sheila.'

'She sounds
fascinating, but don't let her exert too much pressure on you, love. She sounds
the domineering
type,
and I wouldn't like to think she
influences you the wrong way.'

'She
doesn't much,' Connie replied earnestly. 'We're friendly, but not much alike.
Our tastes differ, and
Tilly's
the last person who
wants to get permanently hitched. She says that life's more exciting being with
many men and she's not the type of girl to settle down with one man in marriage
for a long time.'

'It must be
good to be in that sort of position where one can choose,' Sheila sighed,
almost to herself.

Connie had
heard the quiet comment and looked up quickly, her face sympathetic. 'Haven't
you got a steady, then?' she asked, somewhat shyly, as if fearing to sound too
nosey, but Sheila didn't seem to mind the question.

'No. I'm
not pretty like you, to be able to pick and choose with whom I go out. Oh. I
meet men socially now and again, but it's more or less a question of being
content with those who show an interest in me, not the other way
around.'"She
gave a laugh, as if it were of no
consequence, but Connie wasn't going to stand for that resigned attitude.

'You ought
not to underestimate yourself,' she said accusingly, defending Sheila to
herself. 'You're charming and ... and nice, and there must be men around who
prefer those qualities to just a pretty face.'

'You're a
sweet kid, but you mustn't feel guilty about me just because you find it so
easy to meet men.' Smiling, she added: 'You've hardly settled
in,
and already you're my champion.'

Connie
reddened as she drank her coffee. 'Well, I like you, Sheila,' she said
defensively. 'You've been very kind to me, and don't mind listening when I go
on and on about myself all the time. It must be
borin
sometimes, yet still you offer me advice, and you've even bothered to go out
shopping with me to help choose clothes.' She laughed but her face told that
she was sincere when she added, 'I tend to think of you as a big sister,
Sheila. I... I hope you don't mind... '

'Of course
not, I'm flattered but,' she glanced at her watch, 'even so, chattering away to
each other like this won't get the work done, and I've got a tight schedule today.'

They
resumed their respective jobs and for the next hour or so neither spoke, intent
on their work. When the telephone rang, Sheila, who was nearer, picked up the
receiver. She listened for a moment and then wagged her head at Connie.

'For you,'
Sheila said, her eyes twinkling, 'A Mr Philip Dual.'

'How on
earth did he get my office number?' Connie wondered aloud, but took the phone.

'Hello?
Philip?'

The voice
said it was.

'How did
you get my number here?'

There was a
chuckle. 'I called your home and some woman answered
... '

'Mrs
Withers?'

'Whoever
she was, she got all nosey when I asked for your number, so I just told her I
was your dentist and had to speak to Miss Sands about her appointment for
X-rays today.'

'Oh,
Philip,' Connie laughed. 'Anyway, what's so important that you couldn't wait
until tonight to phone me?'

'Couldn't wait, baby.
Since I met you I haven't been able to stop thinking about the angel
with the violet eyes. When can I see you again?'

'Well, I
don't know... '

'... Sure
you do.'

'Okay, what
about next Sunday?'

'Can't wait
until then, baby,' his voice said
carressingly
.
'Tonight's better if you've nothing to do.'

'All right,
tonight, if you're so insistent.'

'Pick you
up at your place?'

'God, no,
it's such a dump and, besides, I don't know if my landlady will let you set
foot inside the door.'

'She will.'
His manner was confident. 'If she's a woman, she will!'

Connie
smiled at his arrogance but wasn't put off by it. On the contrary, she liked a
man to have confidence.

'Eight
o'clock suit you?' he was asking now.

'Fine with me.'

'Great. And
wear something slinky for me, baby.'

As she
replaced the phone in its cradle, she looked up to find Sheila's eyes on hers
questioningly.

'You didn't
need my help, Connie. It sounds as if you're doing beautifully on your own.'

'He was
eager so I was practically home and dry already.'

'What's
your Mr Dual like?' Sheila asked interestedly as she stacked papers into a
file.

'Tall,
fantastically handsome, about twenty-seven, and well off.'

'Lucky you.
What else do you know?'

Connie
shrugged. 'Not much – yet – but I'll get around to that.'

'You watch
out for yourself, these eager wolf types can be hard to handle sometimes.'

Connie
shrugged her shoulders again in reply, then handed Sheila some phone messages she
had taken earlier.

'A couple
for Mr Jessop and, oh yes ... some man called from Frankfurt ... had to get in
touch with him urgently. I didn't know what to tell him since you weren't in
then. Isn't Mr Jessop coming in today?'

Sheila made
a face. 'Maybe later, but, if an important call like this comes through and I'm
not in and Mr Jessop isn't around, or in the building, you can always try
contacting him at his apartment. You've got the number, and it's up to you to
decide whether it's imperative enough to warrant disturbing him at his home.'

Connie
assumed a thoughtful expression as she rested her elbows on her desk. 'He's a
funny sort of guy, Mr Jessop, isn't he?'

Sheila's
eyebrows
raised
.
'In what way?'

'I
dunno
,' she said casually. 'He's very moody. I mean, I
would've thought, if I hadn't met him that is, that being the boss of a place
like this he'd be different.'

'How so?'
Sheila perched on the edge of the desk and looked down at Connie in amusement.

'I'd
pictured a man who shouted a lot ... no, don't smile ... somebody much more
er
, booming and loud. He acts like he's shy. Even when he
asks me to do something for him, which doesn't happen often, he does it as if
he's sorry for asking, for having bothered me at all. Hell, he's the chief, he
could say anything and act in whatever way he fancies... but he doesn't act in
that way at all
... '

'He hardly
ever raises his voice,' Sheila explained. 'He's a very self-controlled man.
Sometimes I think it's better to shout rather than keep everything inside, but
that is Samuel Jessop for you. The nearest I've ever seen him to becoming angry
was when one of our people made a foolish mistake ... he went white around the
mouth but didn't actually...
' She
searched for the
right expression.

'... Flip
his lid,' Connie put in helpfully. 'Even so I think he's a bit of a misery. How
can you stand being with him so much? It'd drive me up the wall in no time if I
had to work with him all hours as you do.'

'I don't
mind,' Sheila said lightly.

'Huh.'
Connie was unconvinced. 'I've tried to, but I can't figure him out. A man like
him, who's got everything, should be on top of the world – in my book anyway.
Still, l suppose he's got a lot on his mind right now, what with rumours of a
slump or whatever it's called on the way. But I can't help wondering what makes
Mr Jessop tick.'

'Sometimes
I wish I understood him better myself,' Sheila said.
so
faintly Connie didn't hear.

'He's not
married, is he?' asked Connie, unable to drop such an interesting subject, even
if Sheila looked as if she wanted to. 'What's the matter with him – don't tell
me he prefers the company of men?' She meant it as a joke, but Sheila's face
froze, making Connie regret she'd spoken.

'He's been
out with some of the most famous and beautiful women in this country.' Sheila
replied in frosty accents. 'Have you finished typing those letters yet?'

Connie
swallowed the rebuke and said no more about Samuel Jessop, yet wondered what
she'd said that had upset Sheila like that. Honestly, people could be so
touchy!

At lunch Connie,
and some other girls with whom she'd become friendly, took sandwiches to a
nearby park, then Connie went off to make an extravagant purchase, the 'slinky'
dress that Philip Dual had said he wanted her to wear. Everything she saw
seemed terribly expensive but with the loan from petty cash and the money the
matron had given her – to be used in emergencies – Connie reckoned she'd be
able to afford a reasonably-priced dress. She found a small boutique off the
main road, and wandered around inside, getting more disillusioned and
discouraged at the shoddy way some of the clothes were made although their
prices were exorbitant, before her eyes alighted on a pale-blue, floor-length
dress made in a material that shimmered as the lights caught its sheen. For once,
the cost wasn't grossly inflated.

'I'll try
this one on, if I may,' she informed the elderly woman assistant.

'The
fitting room is through here. Miss,' she was told.

When the
velvet curtains had swished together behind her, Connie gazed rapturously at
what she knew was a bargain, before unzipping her skirt. A grey head popped
around the curtains and stared at Connie as she pulled off her sweater.

'Need any
help?' the face offered, while Connie patted her hair back into place.

'Perhaps
you could just help me do myself up,' Connie said, as she stepped into the
dress and began struggling with the fastener.

Aid was
duly given, then the girl stepped back to get a better view.

'There's a
long mirror just outside,' the assistant suggested.

Connie
followed the woman, treading carefully and holding the skirt up high. At the
mirror, she paused to see.

'It
could've been made for you, Miss,' the assistant said with honest enthusiasm.

Connie knew
it wasn't just sales patter. The dress fitted her small bust and hips like a
second skin, flaring out gently below her knees. The blue of the dress made her
eyes a dark violet and her skin appeared even whiter. The neckline plunged
halfway down her breasts and, in contrast to the sexy neckline, the sleeves
were tiny puffs on her shoulders. She stared at herself entranced. The bodice
was tight, making her waist tiny, the effect of which was enhanced by the
plunging neckline which exaggerated the size of her breasts under the tight
material. Connie hardly dared breathe in case she should burst out of it, but
there was no mistaking the fact that it suited her. She had always hoped to
wear such a dress, and now she could own one, and be admired in it by the man
of her dreams. She almost blushed at her thoughts and turned aside.

'How do I
look?'

The
assistant raised her eyes from Connie's toes which were peeping out from under
the hem, up past trim thighs and narrow waist, up beyond the girl's gently
rounded breasts and expanse of creamy chest, to a face surrounded by a tumbling
mane of curly gold hair. Connie's lips were parted excitedly as she waited for
the reaction.

'Like a
dream,' was the
reply.

Later, as
they went over to the cashier's desk, the assistant asked:

'Shall I
have it boxed-up for you, Miss?'