First Friends (46 page)

‘No, I can't say as I do.' Mrs Hampton wiped her mouth with the napkin. ‘Just because she's gentry you think she's better'n you are. ‘Tisn't true. Between you an' me, this is, mind, but 'er morals ain't no better than a tomcat's.' She smiled at Jane's stunned face. ‘When you're in trouble ‘tis no good seekin' out the bible-punchers. ‘Tis the ones who've been in trouble their-selves that you need. They've ‘ad to get out of scrapes an' such, an' they're a sight more sympathetic, too. I reckon Mrs Wivenhoe's got 'erself outa plenty of scrapes.'

‘I don't believe it!'

Mrs Hampton smiled.

‘ 'Tis between you an' me, mind. She's one o' they sorts who can't ‘elp theirselves, I reckon, but this I do know. Go an' tell 'er your troubles an' you'll ‘ave a friend. She'll be more use to you than I can be, I promise you.'

‘You've absolutely floored me.' Jane shook her head in disbelief. ‘Cass! It can't be true!'

‘Take my word for it. Go an' see 'er an' ask 'er to 'elp you. This is very tasty, Jane. Worthy of your mother. What a cook she was!'

When Jane cleared away the plates her brain was seething. Could Mrs Hampton possibly be right? She remembered Cass's earlier concern for her, the good-natured attempts to help her, and recalled Cass saying, ‘Are you sure there's nothing wrong? You could tell me, you know. I promise you I'm quite unshockable. After all, we've all been through it some time or other.' It was almost as if she'd known. And anyway, thought Jane, what have I got to lose? Only my marriage, she told herself hysterically, and my baby, and possibly my life!

Cass replaced the telephone receiver and wandered out into the hot, peaceful garden. The summer holidays were well under way and she was enjoying a day of comparative and welcome peace. The children were all employed in enjoying themselves elsewhere and she was quite alone. When Kate had telephoned and invited herself over there had been no reason or excuse to put her off. However, she felt strangely disturbed at the thought of seeing Kate, probably because she knew that she was the one person in the world from whom it was impossible to keep her true feelings secret. She had hardly seen her since she moved and, in her absorption with Nick, had hardly missed her. But now she was coming over and Cass dithered between throwing a cloak of secrecy over the affair with Nick or revelling in the relief of telling her the whole thing. The trouble with that, of course, was that it would only work if the confidante was of like mind and was going to sympathise. Cass had a very realistic idea of how Kate would receive the news and she wondered if it were probably best to put on a jolly front and pretend that everything was as usual. On the other hand, it would be so wonderful to pour it all out, to discuss it all with Kate as she had discussed other things on so many other occasions, to laugh and giggle with her and behave like an irresponsible child.

The strain was beginning to tell on Cass. Nick's elusiveness, his refusal to be tied down, was very wearing. Cass had been the one in the past who had always called the tune, granted the favours, and being kept on tenterhooks was both novel and exhausting. She could not be
sure of him for a second and she knew that if she didn't abide by his rules she would lose him. Yet, when they were together, he treated her with a depth of passion that she had known with no other lover. Then all her frustrations were swept away and she felt as though every one of her faculties and senses was at full stretch. Nor was it just a physical relationship. During those lunches and other public meetings they talked about everything under the sun. He was erudite and amusing and listened, fascinated, as she talked about her life and her family. With Tom and her other lovers, she knew that she could control events but now she was out of her depth. Nick was too old and too experienced to be treated like a lovesick boy and, anyway, it wasn't in his character. There was nothing of the child about him and even in the high moments of their passion, Cass knew that it was still Nick who was in control. It added a new dimension to love-making, leaving her feeling shaken and weak. She felt, for the first time in her life, clinging and helpless and she revelled in his tall strength and his power over her.

How to explain it all to Kate? She had a very good idea that Kate had gone through exactly the same process with Alex. She had been knocked sideways by it all. The fact remained that when it came to a choice between Alex and the twins there had been no contest. And Alex wasn't a married man. She knew that Kate would not encourage her to put her marriage at risk for a man who was obviously very attached to his wife. Sarah was the big fly in the ointment. He never discussed her with Cass but she couldn't help but wonder why he remained with an older, plain and apparently rather dreary woman when he could have had almost any woman he chose. It was a mystery.

Cass turned back to the house. Kate would be here at any moment so at least she could get the kettle on. As for the rest, she would have to play it by ear.

K
ATE WAS DRIVING THOUGHTFULLY
across the moor. She couldn't decide whether to present Harriet's dilemma to Cass or to pretend that
she was assuming that all was well and see what transpired. It would be an ironic manifestation of poetic justice if it were to be Tom, after all this, who broke up his marriage. Kate shook her head. She simply couldn't believe that after all this time it could come to that. However Tom and Cass might behave, they had a very stable relationship and a great deal to lose. Surely they wouldn't throw it all away? Kate wished that the General were still alive. Although she couldn't have discussed this particular situation with him, he had a knack of saying things, quoting passages that on reflection had great relevance to life and had the effect of clearing her brain. She missed him every bit as much as she had known she would and still caught herself talking aloud to him, usually when she was walking on the moor. The mere thought of him was enough to calm her fears and give her thoughts a sensible direction. When she drove up the drive and parked by the front steps she was still thinking of him and, when she slammed the door and looked round and saw Cass standing by the door, all her inhibitions fell away.

They grinned at one another and the next moment were hugging as they had for the past twenty-four years. Kate held Cass away from her and knew at once that she was in the throes of something momentous. She looked at her for a long moment.

‘I have a horrid feeling that whatever it is, it's a great deal worse than Russian roulette,' she said, and Cass burst out laughing.

‘I should have known that I couldn't fool you,' she said. ‘Come on. Let's have a drink. I don't think that coffee will be nearly strong enough.'

‘Oh, Cass. What's going on?'

Cass went ahead into the kitchen. She fiddled with mugs and spoons and then, abandoning them, she turned to look at Kate who had sat down at the table.

‘With my track record I don't expect you to take this seriously but I've met someone and,' she clasped her hands, rubbed her face and finally shook her head, ‘well, I've just fallen for him. Really, I mean. Don't you dare laugh, Kate.'

But Kate was showing no inclination to laugh. She watched Cass
compassionately knowing that this was exactly what she had always feared would happen. Cass's lighthearted amours had carried with them the risk of backfiring and injuring her. Kate felt no desire whatever to laugh.

‘Does Tom know?' she asked.

‘Tom,' said Cass with a little snort, ‘is far too wrapped up in Harriet Masters to have the least idea about anything else.'

Well, that at least answered the question about whether Cass knew or not. Kate hesitated a little.

‘Is it because of that?' she began tentatively.

‘Good grief, no,' said Cass at once. ‘I pushed Tom into Harriet's arms to keep him off the scent. You know she's always had a thing about him.'

‘Oh, Cass.' Kate put her head in her hands. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers and looked up to see Cass watching her. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘I don't know. Nothing desperate at the moment. I love him, Kate.'

‘I'm sure you do,' said Kate gently. ‘Just don't do anything in a hurry. Don't go throwing the baby out with the bath water. You've got so much to lose, Cass.'

‘You don't need to tell me that.'

Kate had never seen quite that mixture of despair, joy and fear on Cass's face and she got up and went to her.

‘Remember your old pa,' she said, putting her arm round her. ‘Remember how he used to tell us “think each problem through twice and then don't do it”? I know it was a joke but it's not a bad rule.'

At the mention of the General, Cass began to weep. Kate pushed her into a chair.

‘You're right,' she said. ‘This calls for something stronger than coffee. Hang on. I'll get us a drink.'

H
ARRIET OPENED THE CUPBOARD
that housed her clothes and gazed at them despairingly. She was sick to death of them. Michael had suggested that he drive her back to Lee-on-Solent to collect some of her
belongings. They could pack the back of the Volvo with the smaller items and arrange to put the rest into store until she decided what to do with them. The house was already up for sale and, apparently, great interest was being shown in it. Harriet, however, was filled with a tremendous apathy. The mere thought of the drive to Hampshire was horrific to her, let alone all that packing up . . . Michael would help, of course. Michael. Harriet shut the cupboard and sat down on the bed. He had been wonderful to her, had made love to her with such tenderness that she'd been near to tears, but for himself it had been an appalling failure. In the end he'd given up, dressed and, bleak-faced, had gone downstairs. When she'd joined him, wrapping herself in his dressing-gown, he'd been hunched beside the Aga. He looked so vulnerable and unhappy that her heart went out to him.

‘Sorry about that.' He didn't look at her.

‘Michael, please! It couldn't matter less. And anyway it was wonderful for me. You mustn't blame yourself. After all, it's not your fault if I don't turn you on.'

‘For God's sake!' She jumped as he rose with a violent movement and slammed his hand down on the table. ‘It's not your fault. OK? I'm just not very good at it. Not like Tom, for instance, who I expect is wonderful in bed.'

‘Michael!' She stared at him aghast.

‘Sorry. I'm sorry. That was unforgivable.' He rubbed his hand across his brow. ‘I'm in a disgusting mood. I think I'll go and walk it off.'

Ignoring her pleas he went into the utility room where she heard him talking to Max. Presently the back door slammed. After a few moments she went to sit where he had been sitting, huddling against the Aga for warmth.

Now, sitting on the bed in the cottage at Moortown, she realised that she'd hurt him terribly. She knew she shouldn't have asked him to do it, especially when she had known in her heart that he didn't really want to. It had been an act of total selfishness. She knew now that subconsciously she had hoped that it would help her make up her mind
and it had all backfired on her. Michael's love-making had been a continuation of his caring and all that he felt for her, she'd been pleasured in every way possible, and she'd just lain there and loved it. With Tom it was like sharing a performance with an expert at the height of his powers, exciting, yes, and satisfying but not so moving. And what did any of it prove? That Michael was in love with her and Tom was not? And more to the point, how did she feel herself? Just when Tom was at last within her grasp, after years of longing for that very thing, she was now wondering if, after all, she was in love with Michael. It was like some terrible joke. She wondered if Michael could possibly continue to love her now that he knew about Tom. And, if he did, then why had their love-making been so disastrous for him?

Michael had continued to behave exactly as usual, just as he had after the Tom incident, but Harriet hated to feel that there was anything unsaid between them. Certainly there had been no suggestion of further love-making and Harriet, who was no psychologist and had no idea of Michael's fear of being found inadequate after Tom's sexual feats, could only assume that perhaps he didn't love her after all. And, given that it was Tom she was supposed to be in love with, should that matter?

Perhaps a trip to Lee with Michael would be a good thing. They would have the opportunity to talk things over and if they stayed overnight on neutral ground—after all Michael need never know that Tom had ever been to her house in Lee—perhaps things may straighten themselves out. Was it possible to be in love with two men at once? Harriet sighed and started to get dressed.

I
N THE END
, J
ANE
telephoned Cass and asked her to come over. She said that she had a problem that she didn't know how to solve and was hoping that Cass could help her. Cass, who now knew that she had Kate's support and sympathy, if not her approval, and was rather surprised at the measure of relief at having been able to share everything with her, was only too pleased to help a fellow sufferer and agreed to come to coffee the next morning.