Page 13 of Shambles


  *

  Right First Time.

  Alan stood before the dressing table mirror, carefully adjusting his tie. “Are you going to be late again tonight?” he asked.

  From the warmth of the bed, and still only half awake, I murmured, “I was in by ten thirty.” Half awake I might be but there was no mistaking the undertone of suspicion in his voice. It was justified.

  I dragged myself into a sitting position, watching him. “It all depends how the meeting goes. Derek says we’ve got to keep up the momentum. I can’t very well say ‘Sorry, got to go,’ just as they start signing, just because it’s ten o’clock, or whatever.”

  “No-o.” Alan moved to the window and stared out at the early morning street below. “No, of course you can’t.”

  “And any way, there’s nothing to worry about. I always get a lift home.”

  “I’m sure you do. Who’s the lucky chauffeur?”

  “Derek.”

  “The Derek you’re doing the petition with?”

  “Oh, you should be there,” I gushed, brightly. “It’s chaos, and tremendous fun. Nobody gave us a chance. ‘What?’ they said, ‘Three hundred signatures! You haven’t a prayer!’ But we have. We don’t just ask the other students politely, to sign. We’ll do anything.”

  “Risky,” Alan commented, still looking at the street below.

  “It works. We’ve got over two hundred already. Another few nights like last night and,” I broke off. He still wouldn’t look at me.

  “What sort of things do you do?”

  “Oh, silly things; you know, student things.”

  “Like what? I’m not meaning to pry,” he went on, hurriedly. “I’d just like to know. If I can’t be there at least I can share your fun indirectly.”

  I didn’t like the way the conversation was going. “Oh, you know. Derek twists their arms and I shove the pen in their hands.”

  I couldn’t tell him I’d ended up on the lap of one reluctant signer, or that Derek had bought me a drink and given me a hug when I’d got the two hundredth name by giving the bloke who’d signed a kiss. That fellow got his money’s worth and when he eventually let me go I was breathless, and, I admit, quite ready to do the same again. It was very enjoyable.

  It was time to change the subject. “How did your badminton go?”

  “We won.”

  “Was it a good game?”

  “Not really.”

  “Weren’t your opponents any good?”

  “The girl on the other side of the net couldn’t concentrate. Almost in tears, she was.”

  “Poor thing,” I muttered, wondering why some people take games so seriously.

  Alan turned away from the window and stared at me. “Yes. Afterwards, in the dressing room, her partner apologised for her. Apparently her boyfriend’s two-timing her.”

  “It happens,” I said quietly.

  “Yes,” Alan replied, fiercely. “But if it does you’d think he’d be open about it. The poor kid’s hooked.”

  He was so intense I pulled the bed clothes protectively up to my chin. “What did you do? Buy her a box of chocolates as a consolation prize?” I often get sarcastic when I’m put out.

  “No. We arranged a rematch for tonight. After all, you’ll be late.”

  “You didn’t know that,” I accused him.

  Alan brightened. His threatening manner totally disappeared. “I can always cancel it,” he told me, eagerly.

  I shifted uneasily under the covers. “We can’t do much in the lunch break. It has to be in the evening. Besides, as Derek says, they’re much more likely to listen to us when they’ve had a drink or two.” I laughed, and even to me it sounded forced. “They can’t resist us. We’re a great team. Everyone says so.”

  “I expect they do,” Alan said, mechanically, drifting back to the window.

  I hated hurting him. Alan and I were also a great team. We did things differently. We were students, but at different colleges. When most partners who got together just got together, Alan and I got married. Why not? If things went wrong we could always get unmarried, and in the meantime there was meaning, and security. That’s what we’d told each other, before it mattered. “The petition is strictly business,” I told him, knowing however true it had been at the outset it was becoming less so with every signature we poached. Derek was unstoppable. You never knew what he’d do next, and that made him exciting to be with.

  “You’d better get up. You’ll be late.”

  I waited until he’d moved into the kitchen before I climbed out of bed and put on my dressing gown. Somehow it did not seem right to, to just wander about unprotected before his eyes. It didn’t make me feel any better when I realised that he probably guessed that and typically, had made himself scarce.

  “Hi, beautiful,” Derek cried, when I got to the common room at lunch time. He waved a sheaf of papers. “While you’ve been slacking I’ve signed up another ten.”

  “I had a class ‘till twelve.”

  He grinned, and put his arm around my waist. “Okay. You’re forgiven, as long as you don’t make a habit of getting your priorities wrong.”

  He plonked the list of names on a table and we leant over it.

  “Only ten?” I joked, my voice a little unsteady for he was standing very close.

  Derek tightened his hold, took a quick look around the room and pulled me to him. Only about thirty people were looking.

  My heart thumping I wound my arms around his neck. Our lips met. It was heaven.

  “So this is the real reason you two go around together.”

  It was Gordon, one of my class mates. He knew enough about me to know I shouldn’t be doing this.

  Derek broke contact. “Of course, Jane’s my girl,” he said, quite unabashed. “Have you signed?”

  “No,” Gordon retorted, “and I’m not going to.”

  “Why ever not?” I asked. Defiantly I hung on to Derek.

  “Because, dear Jane, I happen to believe we’re here to study. We’ve got enough representatives on the Staff-Student Council,” that was what our petition was about, to get the College to accept more student representatives, “so I don’t approve of your aims, or your methods, or,” he added, staring at me, “of you!” He turned on his heel and walked rapidly away.

  “That’s telling us and no mistake, Derek said, cheerfully.

  “Prig,” I muttered.

  “So he is, Jane. So he is. But we aren’t and that’s what matters. Gosh, look at the time.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve got a class!”

  Derek was hurriedly stuffing books and papers into his case. “I’m afraid so.”

  “And you’re actually going?”

  “I’m even more afraid so.” He grinned up at me and then kissed me again. “Okay for tonight?”

  “No problems.”

  “See you here at eight, then.”

  With a cheery wave he was gone. And that, I thought, is how to deal with disapproval. Ignore it.

  That night I didn’t get in until well after eleven. Our flat is on the top floor of the house and as I hurried guiltily along the path towards it I could see the light in the front room. Alan had waited up. I knew he would. It was so easy to imagine the scene. He’d probably be sitting by the fire, reading a text book, or pretending to do so. Lonely and unhappy he’d look up as I came in.

  I’d say, with false brightness, “Hi. Been in long?”

  “Me? A couple of hours.”

  “Oh, yes, badminton. Did you win?”

  To avoid looking at him I’d turn away to hang my coat on the back of the door. It would also give me a chance to see if my shirt was properly tucked in. I shivered. The memory of Derek’s caress was very, very recent. Oh god I thought. What if Gordon’s told him? He could have.

  “No. I didn’t win. We lost three sets to love. It was my fault.”

  “I don’t believe it!” I’d exclaim, as if I cared about silly games. I’d lean over the back of his chair and give
him a peck on the top of his head. “What went wrong?”

  “I’d got other things on my mind.” He’d say it quietly. “Like a wife who finds one man isn’t enough.”

  He hasn’t said it so far but if he did how would I get out of that?

  Make light of it. “Don’t be silly, Alan. Want a coffee?” That’s it, escape to the kitchen and put the kettle on. “Tea or coffee?”

  “I’ve had some hours ago.”

  “I didn’t intend to be this late. Really I didn’t. But we were doing so well.” I’d told Derek there’d be no inhibitions tomorrow.

  “How many did you get?”

  “What?”

  “How many signatures did you get this time?”

  Yeah, he’d ask that, even though he cared as little about the petition as I did about badminton. “Not enough. We need at least another thirty.”

  The kettle would boil and I’d probably fill a cup and then remember I hadn’t put in the coffee. When I put that right it would float on the surface in great big blobs, refusing to dissolve.

  I’d go back into the sitting room. “I’m not buying that cheap stuff anymore. Look at this mess.”

  Alan would glance at it and then at his own cup, still half full, the contents long since lumpily cold. “No, don’t. Foul, it was.”

  We’d been through that routine several times but we have to watch the pennies so we haven’t gone up market. He’d grimace and there would more than one meaning behind that look.

  If I didn’t care for him it would be easy. But I did so how could I be open and honest, as we’d always agreed to be?

  Alan would start pacing the room. It was one of his favourite ways of dealing with difficult situations. He’d be desperate for me to talk but hoping I’d make the first move so he didn’t have to probe. And up to a point I wanted to explain. I wanted him to understand I couldn’t help the situation. Derek was special, a once in a lifetime spark of contact. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop seeing him. In all the years ahead I might never get another chance.

  If only Alan hadn’t found out. I needed time, time to sort myself out. End of term was approaching. The holiday would give me a chance. I couldn’t imagine it but next term Derek and I might cool off. If Alan hadn’t known he wouldn’t be hurting now and maybe we could get back to where we should be.

  I climbed the stairs. Oh, God! I don’t need this scene. He’s got to trust me

  Our front door was slightly opened and, as I’d expected, Alan was sitting on the settee, a book open beside him. But, he wasn’t quietly and patiently waiting for me. On his other side was a girl, her head on his shoulder, his arm round her waist.

  I froze in shock, completely stunned.

  “You’re so kind,” the girl said. She turned her head towards him and kissed his cheek. “I wish I’d met you ages ago.”

  Alan smiled, his lips only inches from hers.

  I couldn’t move, I hardly breathed. With a kind of horrible fascination I watched their lips meet. The girl sighed, holding him gently. She kissed him again. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Jane could come in any minute.”

  I took a quick backward step in case either of them looked towards the door. But they had eyes only for each other.

  “That’s not the real reason,” Alan murmured.

  The girl giggled. “No,” she admitted. “You’re married so if Jane was here now, I wouldn’t be.”

  Alan snuggled a little closer to her. “I’m not so sure I like that idea.”

  “Neither do I, but I’ll have to go soon.”

  Alan reluctantly agreed. Then he asked, “What about tomorrow? Same time, same place?

  “You bet. No matter what he says, or does.”

  Alan said, fiercely, “That’s assuming he actually cares.”

  The girl looked troubled for a moment and then she sighed. “It’ll all come out in the wash.”

  Alan grinned. “I use Squeeky Cleen.”

  “Does it work?”

  “It’s painful, but yes, it cleans things up a treat.”

  “What about the fabric? Will it stand the strain?”

  “That, my girl, depends on the quality. You’ll be ok.”

  The girl said, doubtfully. “It’s taking quite a chance.”

  “Yes but it is the best bet.”

  “Either way I’ll find out, won’t I?”

  “That’s the point. He will cave in.”

  “If he doesn’t there’s always you.”

  “What, second place again?” Alan joked.

  The girl smiled softly. “Silly. You’re a bit special, you know.”

  I couldn’t take any more of that so as she leant into him again I hurried down the stairs. I was fuming. To think I’d been worrying about hurting him! What a bitch; she knew he was married to me.

  She left ten minutes later, swinging her handbag, and smiling. After a decent interval I went back in, and noisily climbed the stairs.

  “Hi,” I said, brightly, shutting the door, and hanging up my coat. “Been in long?”

  “Ages,” Alan replied, shutting the book he’d been reading. “Want a coffee?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m bushed. I’m going straight to bed.”

  “Ok,” He looked at me. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

  It was only when I was safely inside the bedroom I realised my shirt was hanging out. So what! I got undressed and into bed and curled up small. By the time he came in I was going to be three parts asleep.

  The next night I didn’t get in until one in the morning. Derek and I obtained our three hundredth signature at nine, and our three hundredth and fifteenth half an hour later. We didn’t have to go on, but I didn’t want to call it a day, and neither did he. We haunted the common room until we were alone.

  “Drive you home?” Derek offered.

  “If you like.” I’d been expecting him to offer something else.

  He smiled and took my hand and I relaxed. That was better. It wouldn’t end there and both of us knew it. Everyone had said the petition was impossible, that was why the staff had agreed to receive it. Clearly they’d thought we couldn’t deliver. Well, we had. We’d done it. And with that success Derek and I were bubbling.

  We got in the car and sat grinning at each other.

  “Congratulations,” he said, happily, his eyes alight with triumph.

  “Congratulations to you, too,” I grinned back. I leant towards him. It was awkward in the front of the car, but that kiss was heaven.

  “Not here,” he said, breaking away.

  Reluctantly, I agreed. I didn’t want to cut short this special moment, especially as now my conscience was completely clear. But the gear lever had been threatening to dislocate a couple of my ribs, and anyway, outside the college was not the most ideal spot.

  We didn’t drive very far. “Come in the back,” Derek said, as soon as we were discreetly parked. “The front’s useless.”

  My heart thumping and feeling deliciously shameless, despite what I’d witnessed the night before, I got out. For a moment I stared at the stars, bright and twinkling above us, looking as they had a million years ago, and looking as they would a million years from now. In that context this was just one insignificant night yet so exciting.

  From inside Derek opened the door. I hesitated no longer for I’d made my decision.

  “You’re trembling,” he whispered, as I lay in his arms. “Scared?”

  I shook my head in the darkness. “I want you.”

  He kissed me, softly. “I know. And I want you.”

  I clung to him urgently. “Like last night?”

  “More than last night,” he said, as eager as I. “Last night we hadn’t finished the job. We hadn’t won. But we have now. We’re both about to win again. Sorry it has to be in the car.”

  Already my shirt had come loose. “Make sure it is a better place tomorrow?” I teased him.

  “Wherever, I’ll want you.”

  “And next week?”

&nbs
p; “I’ll want you.”

  “And next term?’

  He didn’t answer immediately. We were otherwise engaged. But when I repeated the question he leant back, peering at me through the gloom. “I don’t think anyone can look that far ahead,” he told me, carefully.

  “Well, I can’t see you in here,” I giggled. “Come closer.”

  Strangely, he was holding back. “There’s something you should know,” he said.

  “You.”

  “Hold on a minute. Your Alan,”

  “Don’t speak to me about him. He’s a hypocritical louse. You know what I found when I got home last night?”

  “Sharon.”

  “It might be her name, I don’t know. What I did see was this girl in his double dealing arms. God and I felt awful about us.”

  “Really?”

  “Only because of him, I have no reservations about you.” I began to feel uneasy. “How did you know, anyway?”

  “Sharon’s my girlfriend.”

  “What!”

  “She plays badminton, and lately, very badly.”

  “So?”

  “So they’ve been crying on each other’s shoulder.”

  “That’s not what I saw!”

  “It is, you know,” Derek said, quietly. “She told me this morning.”

  “But,” I objected, “They were kissing. They were in each other’s arms on the sofa.”

  “Is that why you’re here, with me?”

  I slapped his face, hard. “You know it isn’t. The petition,”

  “Oh, hang the bloody petition,” he said, ruefully, touching his cheek where I’d hit him. “You made it quite clear from the start you were interested.”

  “Well, I like that! You knew about Alan.” This was horrible. This was not what I wanted. Desperately, I reached for him. “Derek. Come here. This is stupid. We’re a great team!”

  “You’re right,” he said, as my arms went round his neck. “We’re stupid.”

  “What?”

  “We’re a great political team. But this is stupid.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Derek the adventurer, Derek who ignored the disapproval of others, Derek who last night had only agreed to wait because I’d promised there’d be no inhibitions once we’d finished the job; this self same Derek had cooled off on me. “But why, why?”

  “I wanted to see how far you’d go!”

  I nearly hit him again then. I didn’t, because my motives had been very similar. We’d taken on a dare, the challenge of the College authorities, and as a result had got involved in one another.

  I still had no inhibitions but I slumped back in the seat, away from him. “You haven’t found out how far I’ll go.”

  “I think I have.”

  “It’s not wrong.”

  “No,” he replied. “I don’t think it is. Especially if we finish now.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Oh yes,” he breathed. “Oh yes.”

  I knew what he was implying. It is only wrong once you start to hurt others. We’d already done that but I didn’t want to end it now. I was in a loss or lose situation. “You said you wanted me.”

  “I still do.”

  “We finish now?”

  “Oh yes,” he said, as desperately I snuggled closer. “We finish and we tell them it is over.”

  “We?”

  “You tell Alan. I’ll tell Sharon.”

  “You mean that?”

  “It won’t be easy but it’s what they both want to hear.”

  I lay quiet, thinking it through.

  “Agreed?” he prompted.

  I was very reluctant to end it yet I desperately wanted to finish. He stroked my cheek. “Agreed?” he repeated, softly.

  There was only one answer. With very mixed emotions I nodded my head. “I agree.”

  And, eventually, when he said, “I’ll drive you home,” I agreed with him again.

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