Moving On (23 page)

Tom was incensed when he discovered that the reason why the adverts had not appeared in any of the newspapers he’d selected was because Jenny hadn’t inserted them.

‘You defied me!’ he raged, his face red and angry.

He looked so menacing that Jenny felt a frisson of fear run through her. Then she made matters worse by shrugging her shoulders.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Tom asked, his eyes flashing angrily.

‘I’m not ready to sell, that’s what it means,’ she replied defiantly.

‘That’s too bad. I say that it is better that we sell while the market is buoyant. This is the best time of the year to sell; it’s when people are thinking of moving home. Leave it until August or later and people will put off making such decisions until next year.’

‘So, why can’t we leave it until then? I’m not in any hurry.’

‘We need to get our financial situation tidied up. I’ve had plenty of time to sit and think about these things over the last couple of weeks and I can see that there’ll be a lot of unnecessary expense incurred by hanging on to that flat.’

‘I’m the one meeting all the costs not you,’ Jenny pointed out.

‘You are at the moment but you won’t be when we are married,’ Tom argued.

‘Why do you say that? I’ll still have my own pension and money from investments,’ Jenny pointed out stubbornly.

‘Yes, and that’s another matter that needs dealing with. Everything should be in our joint names and we should have a joint bank account so that we know precisely how much money we have coming in and what we are spending.’

‘Are you proposing that we have a set amount for housekeeping and then perhaps you give me an allowance; some pocket money each week so that I can go to the hairdressers and buy some new stockings if I need them? If I want money for anything else, will I have to ask you for it?’ Jenny asked in a scathing tone.

Tom’s colour heightened. ‘That’s the way most married couples balance their budgets,’ he blustered.

‘That might have been the case in your parents’ day, or even in yours when you were married, but not now. No, I am happy to pay my fair share of everything we spend including all the running costs of the house and on our food, but I keep my own money and spend it how I see fit. If I want to buy something for Karen or baby Angela I don’t intend asking permission from you first to find out if I can do so.’

‘You’re being totally unreasonable and building this into a stupid argument,’ Tom said angrily. ‘I had no idea you could be so wilful. I should have guessed, of course, the moment I found out that you hadn’t placed those adverts in the newspapers like I told you to do.’

‘Is that so!’ Jenny’s voice was icy. ‘Until this moment I had no idea that you could be such a chauvinist. I’m coming to the conclusion that it’s not a wife you are looking for but a slave; someone to be at your beck and call and accept your judgement in everything. You are certainly not the man I thought you were.’

‘Is that so,’ he repeated, mimicking Jenny’s words. ‘I thought you were in love with me and would do whatever I wanted, yet ever since my accident, which was caused by doing something to please you, you have given me the cold shoulder completely. What happened to those cuddles and all that sweet talk about how much I meant to you during those nights in bed together?’

‘You are forgetting that at the moment you have one leg encased in plaster almost from hip to ankle.’

‘It might stop us making love but it doesn’t prevent you from sleeping in my bed and comforting me,’ he railed, his eyes flashing with anger.

‘Tom, it’s out of the question so let’s cool it until after we are married.’ She smiled and tried to keep her voice light. ‘It won’t be long now. As soon as you’ve had the plaster off we can set a new date.’

‘I’ve done that already,’ he told her with a sneer. ‘I got tired of you messing around and prevaricating first for one reason and then another. I like my life to be ordered so I phoned the register office and told them we were now ready to make a new date. They were most understanding. It’s all fixed for next Tuesday.’

‘Next Tuesday! That’s only four days away. Karen and Bill won’t be able to come because Bill can’t take any more time off work as they are in the middle of important exams.’

‘We can get married without them being there,’ he said brusquely.

‘I want them to be there though, they’re the only family we have.’

‘You can see them afterwards, we’ll go and spend a few days with them as soon as we are married if that is what you want.’

‘It’s all so rushed though. Who will we have as witnesses?’

‘That’s the last thing you need to worry about. The registrar said they’d find someone in the office. Hell’s bells, woman, stop making such a fuss about it. It’s only a piece of paper and if you weren’t so bothered about it all being legal I wouldn’t have taken the trouble to go through all this rigmarole at all,’ he said angrily.

As he spoke he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, twisting it so that a sharp pain ran from her elbow up into her shoulder.

‘Let go of my arm, Tom, you’re hurting me,’ she begged, tears in her eyes.

In response he frogmarched her through to the bedroom. ‘Get on the bed,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I’ll soon show you if having my leg in plaster stops me from making love to you.’

His assault was both vicious and unfeeling. She sensed he was trying to establish his dominance over her and she didn’t like it. She lay passive, realizing that he was so much stronger than her that there was little point in fighting him.

When he was satiated and rolled off her exhausted she gingerly edged her way off the bed and then, not even stopping to put on her shoes, fled back to her own flat.

She lay on the bed, her face buried in a pillow, sobbing. For several minutes her mind was utterly blank; she was unable to think or reason. Then, very slowly, her sobs subsided and she sat up and dried her eyes and went into the kitchen and poured herself a strong drink.

She was too old to change her ways, she decided. She studied her reflection in her dressing table mirror as she combed her hair and renewed her lipstick. She was beginning to look old; there were wrinkles not simply laughter lines around her eyes and her hair was practically grey all over.

Taking a deep breath, she began to take stock of her life. Her hair might be turning grey and she might have a few wrinkles but she still had good health and plenty of energy, she thought gratefully.

Tom coming into her life had been like a breath of fresh air. She had been grateful when he sprang to her defence over the criticism levelled at Karen when she’d married Lionel Bostock. She not only liked Tom as a friend and companion but in so many ways she had come to depend on him, so would she be happy if that all ended, she asked herself.

She listed the positive attributes in her life. She was financially independent and was competent about making her own decisions. She enjoyed the freedom of living at Merseyside Mansions and being able to come and go as she pleased. She loved her flat and took pleasure from having it furnished the way she wanted it to be. Living on her own she was able to indulge in the sort of meals she enjoyed and eat when it suited her. Living alone meant that she was not regimentally tied to the clock or a strict routine.

She no longer felt responsible for Karen now that she was happily married to Bill and had an adorable baby daughter.

She had been flattered and excited when Tom became interested in her and, in that first phase of happiness, she had overlooked these details. It had been almost like a courtship where at first each person was trying to please the other or else didn’t notice the other person’s faults.

If Tom wanted to be her friend, even to be her lover, she would be happy to concede as long as she remained free and untrammelled and, above all, retain her own flat.

The accident had changed him. She’d had no idea that he could be so bad-tempered and aggressive. He was far too dominant. He expected her to fall in with his wishes whether they suited her or not and that was something she didn’t intend to do.

Now that he was sure of her, or at least thought that he was, his true colours were revealed and she was no longer besotted by him. He had feet of clay after all and he wasn’t a hero on a pedestal as she had seen him in those first hazy months.

He could be charming but he had a temper, he could be extremely grouchy, he wanted his own way in everything from which TV programme they would watch to controlling how they spent their money.

Becoming someone’s wife only to be in thrall to their moods and under their tight financial control was not for her she decided.

She looked round her flat; this was her very own haven; it offered her an escape from the world as well as her freedom and she intended to keep it that way.

Having taken stock of the situation she decided that it was time to move on yet again. Her mind was made up; from now on she was absolutely determined to live the kind of life she wanted and not be beholden to anyone.