EPISODE ONE-HUNDRED AND THREE
As Mike stood at the
wine bar counter, smiling at Maggie, Craig sensed there was something between
them. He detected that undercurrent that
runs between lovers, the secret mutual appeal they think is latent but is
clearly noticeable by others.
‘Hi,’ said Mike. ‘How’ve you been?’
Maggie’s body language became openly inviting, as she returned his smile, and
brushed her hands back across her stomach until they rested on her hips.
‘It’s been a bit hectic,’ she said.
‘What can I get you?’
‘I’ll have a bottle of Beck’s.’
Craig nodded approvingly at Mike, then went into the kitchen, pleased that
perhaps Maggie might rekindle an old love, which he knew would be far healthier
than her drink problem.
Maggie handed Mike his beer, and he toasted her with the bottle before taking a
small sip.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said. ‘I don’t
think I can live without you. I know you
said you didn’t want to ruin my marriage or come between me and my wife,
but...well, these things happen. I want
you, Maggie. I can’t stop thinking about
you.’
Maggie knew then that she had to make a choice.
Either ignore her brother’s warning, and carry on destroying herself, or
choose to embrace the positive aspect of being desired, and finding a new
strength through a burgeoning relationship.
‘Mike,’ she said softly, having made her choice, ‘I want you too. I never really wanted for us to split
up. If you want to give me a ring
tomorrow morning, after I’ve taken the kids to school...’
Mike’s grin widened. ‘I’ll do that. Maybe I can call round.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Though I might have
to be here for lunchtime. Let’s see how
it goes.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ he smiled, raising his bottle of Beck’s.
Maggie frowned at the allusion to alcohol.
She opened the cold cabinet, grabbed a bottle of Perrier, flipped off
the top, and clinked bottles with Mike.
Already she felt better about herself, thinking positively about what
lay ahead in her life.
*
After Simon and Thomas were asleep, Mary sat watching The Line of Beauty on
BBC2. There was a permanent frown on her
face and she wasn’t really paying much attention to the programme. But she was distracted from her worrying
thoughts when she saw the explicit homosexual love scenes between the leading
character in the programme and another attractive young man. She found herself becoming curiously aroused
by the scene, and wondered if there was something disturbingly wrong about
becoming stimulated by homosexual sex.
Then she surrendered to the lubricious enjoyment, knowing that it was
because the actors were so good looking.
A sex scene between two ugly male actors would have been different.
As she began to relax back into the sofa, her frown softening, a growling
engine sound came from the street outside.
It sounded like a car that was brash and aggressive, large and flashy,
like the American car that Ronnie had driven.
Frowning again, she got up off the sofa, and crossed to the window. Holding her breath she tugged the curtain
back a foot. There in the shadows
opposite the house was Ronnie’s Chevrolet Corvette. The engine of the car rumbled and died, and
an eerie silence accentuated her fear. Suddenly, from the hall, the telephone
rang, piercing and alarming, and she shuddered.
Perhaps it was Dave. He had
promised to ring as soon as his show had finished. She needed him. God! How she needed him. She would beg him to come
home, even if only for the night. She
dashed out into the hall and grabbed the phone.
‘Darling!’ she said with a quick intake of breath, expecting it to be the
comforting warmth of her partner’s voice. But her expectation turned to ice as
she heard the humourless laugh from the other end.
‘You haven’t called me that in years.
Now I know I’m in with a chance.’
‘Ronnie!’ she said. ‘I told you not to
call me. It’s over between us.’
‘Then why did you do that just now?’
In spite of wanting to slam down the phone, her curiosity was aroused, wanting
to know what he meant. ‘Why did I do
what?’
‘Give me the signal just now. Pull back
the curtain as arranged. Letting me know
you were ready for me.’
‘I didn’t!’ Her voice rasped as she
tried to stop herself from shouting and screaming, lest she wake the
children. ‘I heard your car, that was
all. I had to see who it was.’
‘Could have been any old car. Don’t give
me that, babe. You were waiting for
me. So now I’m here. You going to let me in or not?’
Mary slammed the phone down, ran to the front door and slid the bolt across the
top. Then she tore out to the kitchen
and tried to do the same with the bolt at the bottom of the door. But the bolt was rusty and hadn’t been used
in years. It wouldn’t budge. Panicking,
because she knewRonnie had somehow managed to enter the house when they were
away in Blackpool, Mary dashed
back into the hall and dialled the emergency services. But as soon as she had called the police,
telling them she was under attack from an intruder, she heard Ronnie’s car
starting up, and heard it’s heavy roaring sound as it drove past the front
door. Dazed, she stood listening to it’s
diminishing roar as it distanced itself from the house.
She stood like a statue, unable to move, numb from the fear of knowing that
Ronnie had the upper hand. What could
she tell the police when they arrived?
And, more to the point, what could they do to stop him?
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she stood helplessly clutching the hall table
for support, waiting, growing colder and colder, and more desperate as the
minutes ticked by.
IN EPISODE 104
Craig meets someone and succeeds in upsetting is sister.