First Friends (22 page)

She's too thin, he thought, and felt the usual wave of frustration.
He'd been terribly surprised when she'd walked into his bookshop nearly six months ago in answer to his advertisement for an assistant. She'd been in once or twice and on one occasion bought an antique print of Plymouth Hoe for her husband. They'd chatted a bit and he'd found himself very attracted to her but she was obviously married and Alex, whose own marriage had failed some years before, left married women severely alone.

She had an unusual quality of openness and friendliness without being in the least coquettish and he thought about her quite a lot after she'd left the shop. He found himself looking out for her in the town. She had told him that she came in mainly on market days and he would wander through the old Pannier Market, busy with both locals and visitors crowding around the stalls. Skirting trestle tables and avoiding loitering grockles, he looked over the tops of heads for a glimpse of her. Only once he had seen her and had been rather taken aback at the way his heart had speeded up. He had contrived to bump into her ‘accidentally' at one of the second-hand book stalls and her smile of pleasure had buoyed up his spirits for days. He had persuaded her to join him for a cup of coffee, taken her into The Galleon and they had talked about books. She was well read although she knew nothing of his trade in antiquarian books and they spent a very happy half an hour. It was some time before he saw her again and then she had the twins with her and it had been little more than a passing greeting. When she walked into the shop and had asked very tentatively about the job he had been so delighted that for a moment he could hardly speak and she had taken his silence for disbelief that she could be seriously applying for it.

It was then that he began to get the inkling that her confidence had been damaged and he spent long hours wondering how. He gave her the job at once and found her willing to learn although a little diffident about her abilities. She was marvellous with his customers and very reliable but although they maintained a friendly easy relationship, he was no further on than he had been six months before. She had told him that her husband was in the Navy and away
a great deal and now that the twins were at boarding school she was rather lonely which was why she had decided to get a job. But Alex was sure that there was more to it than that. She often wore an inward-looking expression and she had lost weight. In the whole six months she had never mentioned that her husband had been home. In fact she never spoke of him at all and he longed to ask her outright what the truth of the matter really was. Something always held him back but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his emotions at bay.

At that moment, Kate turned to walk on, saw him and raised her hand. He waved back at her, feeling that funny little pain that told him exactly where his heart was located.

‘Hello.' She had arrived beside him. ‘Am I late? Megs and Honey were having such fun that I couldn't get them back.'

‘Not at all.' He smiled down at her and clutched his box more firmly lest he should fling it away and pull her into his arms. ‘Just in time to put the kettle on. I'll get the other bookcase out.'

‘The trouble is,' said Kate, going into the shop, ‘it's simply too hot for people to be wandering around. They dash out early, gather up the necessities and dash home again. Still, it is market day so we may have a few grockles around.'

She dropped her basket on the floor by the little chair near the table which she used. Alex had a big desk at right angles in the corner. There was only the one big room with a small kitchen next door to a lavatory right at the back. Another door opened on to the staircase which led to the flat above where Alex lived alone.

The walls were lined with bookshelves and three tables held boxes which contained old prints, none framed—many of them local scenes. Kate went through to fill the kettle.

‘There's talk of standpipes if it goes on,' she said, wandering back into the shop. ‘You wouldn't believe it, would you? We have month after month of rain and then after just a week or two of hot weather we have hosepipe bans and standpipes.'

Alex carried the second bookcase outside and Kate came to help
him stack it with books. He looked down at her thin brown hand and the bright gold of her wedding ring.

‘I've been here nearly six months,' she said. ‘Amazing. The twins break up next week but Cass says she'll have them as much as possible. Did Susie say she'd be able to do some extra hours like she did at Easter?'

‘Yes.' Alex looked at her. Her slate grey eyes were worried. ‘That's no problem. We're going to sort it out on a weekly basis. She's only too pleased to be able to earn some extra money.

Kate looked at him with gratitude. ‘You're very good to me,' she said. ‘It's so difficult to find a job that fits in with school. I'm really grateful.'

‘Kate,' he began, but as he spoke a voice called from behind them.

‘Alex! And where were you last night, you rotten devil?'

He experienced a stab of frustrated anger before he turned resignedly. An opulent woman whose fair hair owed a great deal to artifice was bearing down on them.

‘Good morning, Pam,' he said and Kate slipped past him into the shop. ‘I'm sorry. I wasn't in the mood. I'm sure you all managed without me.'

‘I missed you.' She pouted a little and wriggled her heavy shoulders. ‘Living alone isn't good for you. You're getting to be a miserable old bachelor.'

‘Chance would be a fine thing.' But he laughed to take the sting out of his words.

‘Well, don't forget that you're taking me to the Mallinsons' barbecue tomorrow. Come early and we'll have a little drink before we go. See you then.'

Alex sighed and went into the shop. Kate was sitting at her table, her head bent over a catalogue.

‘Coffee's on your desk,' she said without looking up.

‘Thanks.' He hesitated. She turned a page, engrossed, and after a moment he went to his desk and sat down.

_______

K
ATE CARRIED A RUG
into the garden and spread it on the hard-baked lawn. The dogs no longer greeted her return from the bookshop with the boundless vigour that demanded exercise but went to lie beneath the apple trees at the bottom of the garden, tongues lolling. Kate went round opening windows, hoping for circulation of air, and then taking a cushion wandered out again and lay down on the rug. The early-evening sun still had great power and she could feel it almost nailing her to the rug, its tremendous heat sapping all that remained of her energy.

Her brain, hopping about like a tired bird, pecked at anxieties. Money was a continual nagging pressure. She mentally reviewed the contents of the larder, praying that they would stretch ‘til the end of the month. She'd have to get some petrol tomorrow but that was OK as she'd got a few pounds in her purse. She'd miss her pay from the bookshop when the twins were home but they'd manage somehow. They might need new clothes, of course . . .

She stretched and turned her cheek on the old cushion, idly plucking at the dry grass and letting her brain fix on the subject that dominated it now for most of the time: Alex. To take the job had been so tempting. He was so easy to talk to; there were no strains and stresses, no having to think one thought ahead in case what you were about to say might be construed as criticism or complaint. It had been such a novel experience, going to the bookshop most days, learning how things were done, talking to customers. It seemed almost amazing to be actually paid for doing it. Sometimes at lunchtimes they would shut up shop and wander out for something to eat. At other times they would buy sandwiches from the baker at the corner and eat them at their desks with a cup of coffee. There seemed so much to talk about. This, realised Kate, was what had seduced her as much as anything else, this companionship. They spoke the same language, shared the same interests, laughed at the same things. It was fatal. He was interested in what she thought, how she worked, which was an utterly new experience for her. She was in love with him before she'd realised it and when she did, she panicked. Gulping back the first heady
draught of friendship, she had not noticed that it also contained a fairly sizeable love potion. She caught herself watching his hands as he handled the old books, looking at his mouth as he talked and smiled, and she would experience strange and disturbing emotions. She was terrified that he might guess even though it was very clear that he was interested in her and prepared to be more so. But where would it lead? Slowly, semi-drugged with sun and weariness, she started on a long drawn out fantasy and presently she slept.

‘Kate?' Her shoulder was being gently shaken. ‘Kate!'

‘Good grief! Tom! You really made me jump.' Kate rolled over and sat up.

He squatted beside her on the rug.

‘Sorry, love. You were dead to the world. Didn't mean to make you jump.'

‘That's OK. Is Cass with you?' She knelt up. The two dogs weaved about them, tongues lolling, tails waving. ‘Wonderful guard dogs, you are!' she told them.

‘They welcomed me in. Would have shown me where the silver was if I'd asked.'

Kate laughed. ‘They're useless,' she said. ‘But, Tom, whatever are you doing here on a Friday evening? Surely you've only just got down from London? How do you like driving a desk?' She struggled to her feet, shooing the dogs away, and then paused. ‘Is Cass OK?'

‘She's fine. No problems.' Tom stood up too. ‘She sent me over to tell you off. She says you're being a stubborn old moo about the Mallinsons' party tomorrow night.'

‘Oh, hell. Don't say she sent you over just for that? Not after a long train journey in that sweltering heat? It's too bad of her.'

‘I got home early,' said Tom, following her into the cottage, his eyes on her hips and bottom. Like Alex, he thought her much too thin but Tom's opinion, however, was based on purely lustful grounds. ‘I popped over while Cass gets supper ready. Now, why won't you come?'

Kate stood in the kitchen, resting her weight on her fists as she
leaned against the table, her head lowered. After a moment she turned to face him. ‘Do you ever see Mark?' she asked him.

The suddenness took Tom off guard. He shrugged a bit, raised his eyebrows, grimaced a little. Kate watched him.

‘Occasionally,' he said, at last. ‘Now and then. Not so much now I'm at Northwood.'

‘And what do the gossips say about us? What's the buzz?'

Tom looked embarrassed. ‘Heavens, Kate!' he blustered. ‘Why should there be any? I haven't heard anything. It's nobody's business, after all.'

Kate continued to watch him. After a bit she sighed. ‘I hoped that you might tell me the truth. I've heard murmurings, of course. I went to one or two parties and George invited me to the Christmas Ball at
Drake
, much to Felicity's fury. There was a certain amount of drawing aside of skirts, you know. I told Mark that he could make up any reason he liked to account for our separation and I wouldn't contradict it. It seemed a small price to pay to get out and have the twins looked after. Now I'm not so sure. There's a lot of Navy round here and I didn't realise how much I'd mind. I just wish I knew what reasons he had decided to give.' She smiled at Tom who was looking profoundly uncomfortable. ‘Sorry. It's not fair to ask you. It's just easier to know what you're up against. The trouble is, it's given me a dread of going to naval dos. I'm getting a bit morbid, I suppose, but I wonder what people are saying about me. I expect that there'll be quite a strong naval contingent at the Mallinsons.'

‘He's a skimmer,' said Tom dismissively, as if that made everything different. ‘You mustn't shut yourself off. You've got to get out there and show people you don't care, otherwise they'll think you've got something to hide. Come on, love.' He went to her and took her by the upper arms. ‘The people who know you will guess the truth—the others don't matter.'

‘It's horrid being alone,' she said, knowing at once it was the wrong thing to say to Tom who would certainly misconstrue it. He was the sort of man who was quite sure that any woman living alone was
frustrated and lonely and only too grateful for a man's attention. He tried to draw her a little closer.

‘You don't have to be lonely,' he murmured. ‘Beautiful girl like you.'

‘Tom.' She tried to laugh as she held him off. ‘What are you saying? And Cass my best friend! All right, I'll come. No. I'll drive myself over to the Rectory. You can tell Cass she's won. I never could resist a handsome man.'

She got him out at last and went back to the lawn. As she folded the rug she thought of the other reason for refusing the Mallinsons' invitation. Clutching the sun-warmed rug to her breast, she stared across the garden into the lengthening shadows.

You fool, she told herself. You stupid bloody fool!

‘W
HAT
'
S ALL THIS ABOUT
rumours?' asked Tom, as he and Cass prepared for bed.

‘It's that cow Felicity,' said Cass without preamble as she sat at her dressing table and unscrewed her ear-rings. ‘When Kate came back it meant that it was the end of her secret idyll with George in Kate's cottage. And George has invited Kate to one or two things. So she's putting it about that Kate's sleeping around.'

‘Oh, come on love! Kate? Not quite the type, is she? If it was you, now!'

‘Thank you, darling.' Cass smiled as she began to brush out the long thick blonde hair. ‘Sweet of you to say so.'

Tom bent over to kiss her, his hands sliding the narrow straps of her nightdress over her shoulders.

‘Why are you wearing this stupid thing?'

‘But, darling,' Cass stroked his hair as his lips slid down to her breasts, ‘what is Mark saying?'