The Strange Story of Linda Lee (8 page)

She was now over twenty, fully grown and strongly sexed. Every week that passed made her more unhappy about this aspect of her life, to which it now seemed she was condemned for an indefinite period. Angrily she endeavoured to put thoughts of sex out of her mind, but in bed every night, and sometimes during the day, they tormented her.

It was on the last day of June that Eric again came to stay while Rowley was absent at Shrivenham. As on previous occasions she saw to it that they had an excellent dinner. Afterwards they sat in the cosy study, talking happily until past one o’clock in the morning. Before they went up to bed, Eric kissed her tenderly on her little mole, then playfully ruffled her hair and gave her a slap on the bottom.

During the long evening they had had quite a lot to drink and, as she bent down to peel off her stockings, she staggered slightly. Then, having put on her nightdress, instead of getting into bed she sat on the edge of it, her mind in a turmoil.

That Eric wanted her she had no doubt at all. And she wanted him. If Rowley had been competent she knew that, after all he had done for her, she would have resisted the temptation to be unfaithful to him; but he was not. And if she were unfaithful, he would not be hurt, for he would never know. Damn it, why not? These were the best years of her life, and she needed to be made love to; needed it desperately.

For close on two years she had been in love with Eric. Almost from the beginning of her liaison with
Rowley she had used him as a substitute for Eric, by shutting her eyes and concentrating her thoughts on him. She had not let Rowley down, for he could not possibly have known that the ardour with which she gave herself to him was inspired by the mental image of another man. No woman could have given Rowley more enjoyment than she had, and she had never shown the least interest in any other man during the times when they had been abroad together; so she had been completely fair to him.

But now that, for his own sake, she no longer dared let him make love to her, matters were different—very different. For months past she had been tormented by the natural cravings of her body. Why should she continue to deny herself to a man who obviously wanted her? And what bliss it would be, not merely to imagine that Eric was holding her in his arms, but to know it to be the real thing—to be able to keep her eyes open and smile up into his.

With sudden resolution she stood up, put on her dressing gown and went out into the passage. There she paused, not from irresolution, but owing to the sudden thought that Eric might think less of her if she just walked into his room and brazenly offered herself to him. She must have some excuse, then let him make the running.

After a moment a pretext came to her, and she walked on down to the first floor. A light was showing beneath his door. She knocked, and he called, ‘Come in.’ With her heart beating like a sledge-hammer, she entered the room.

He was sitting up in bed, reading. Laying down the book, he said, ‘Hullo, chum. Something wrong? Not feeling dicky I hope?’

Her mouth felt dry. With difficulty she got out the words, ‘No … no. I wanted to ask your advice. I meant to earlier this evening, but somehow I never got round to it.’

‘Never too late,’ he smiled, then patted the side of his bed. ‘Come and sit here and brief your Uncle Eric.’

Sitting down on the bed, she said, ‘It’s about Rowley. Since his last attack we haven’t risked sleeping together and … ’ She paused, hoping that she had given him a good opening.

He nodded. ‘And as a healthy young woman, you’re feeling your oats, eh?’

‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. ‘It has been rather frustrating. But I’m more worried about him than about myself.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s like this. About two months after his first attack, we did start again, limiting ourselves to once a month, and no harm came of it. Now he is fully recovered from his second attack he’s been pressing me to let him have his fun again.’

‘And naturally you want him to.’

‘Yes, but it seems such an awful risk to take.’

‘I agree. Personally, I don’t think you ought to.’

Linda appeared to consider this, but she made no move to get off the bed. After a moment, she said, ‘I suppose you’re right. But it’s very hard on both of us.’

He gave her an appraising look and nodded. A pregnant silence followed. She broke it by saying, ‘I owe so much to Rowley that I don’t want to be unfaithful to him. But having to give it up altogether … well, there are times when I can’t help thinking about it. Would you … would you think me very awful if I did
it with someone else? After all, Rowley would never know.’

‘Not if you were careful. Is some young spark chasing you?’

‘No; oh no!’ She leaned forward a little, so that her dressing gown fell slightly open, giving him a glimpse of one of her breasts under her chiffon nightie. ‘But I thought perhaps …’

‘What did you think?’

‘Well,’ she hedged. ‘I was thinking that … that if I’m as lovely as you say I am, I shouldn’t have much difficulty in finding a lover.’

‘No, you weren’t,’ he suddenly snapped at her. ‘You were thinking of me!’

Leaning forward, his chin jutting out and his blue eyes blazing, he went on angrily, ‘You slut! How you have the gall to come to my room half naked and try your wiles on me passes my comprehension. Damn it, I’m Rowley’s best friend! He’s been much more than a brother to me. Is it likely that I’d take his girl behind his back? If you want it that much, find yourself a boy friend. There are plenty of guys who’d be delighted to jump into bed with you but it won’t be me. Now get to hell out of here.’

Linda was utterly devastated by his outburst. Tears welled up into her big eyes. Giving a little, strangled cry, she slid off the bed and ran toward the door.

In a flash he was out of bed and after her. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her back, swung her round and threw her down in the armchair. For a moment he stared down at her, then he spoke hoarsely:

‘I’m sorry, Linda. Of course you’re not a slut, and I should never have said you were. I should have thought you would know that I wouldn’t
tromp
é
Rowley. But I suppose a lot of fellows would have, and you must have realised for months that I’m in love with you.’

She had buried her face in her hands and was weeping bitterly. At his last words, she looked up and sobbed. ‘I … I know. And I am with you. It … it wasn’t only … just needing a man. Although I do … desperately at times.’

‘You poor darling.’ He laid a hand gently on her hair. ‘How I wish to God it could be me. But it can’t. I’d never be able to look old Rowley in the face again.’

She nodded. ‘I understand. Of course I understand. I should have realised how you would feel about us both deceiving him. I should never have come here. It was wicked of me.’

‘No. The devil of it is though that the damage is done now.’

‘But it’s not!’ She looked at him in surprise and moved to stand up. ‘You haven’t succumbed to wanting me, and I’m going back to my room.’

‘My dear, it is done.’ He shook his head unhappily. ‘As long as we only knew that we loved each other and kept it to ourselves, everything was “Roger”. But now we’ve told each other so, things can never be the same again. How can I possibly continue to come here, knowing that you’re mine for the asking? I simply couldn’t bear it. I’ll have to take off for some place abroad.’

‘Oh, no!’ The cry came from Linda’s heart. ‘Without being able to look forward to seeing you now and again, I’d be utterly miserable. And Rowley! Think of Rowley! He’d miss your visits terribly. I’d have it on my conscience that I’d broken up your friendship with him.’

‘I realise all that. God knows, I’ll miss you, too. But what’s the alternative? There are some emotions one can’t hide all the time. From now on, unless I bow out, just the way we look at each other will give it away to Rowley that we’re in love. And what then? First suspicion, then certainty, will eat like a cancer into his happiness. A time will come when he’ll be able to hide his feelings no longer, and he’ll charge us with it. No amount of lying on our parts would convince him that he was wrong. Then, being the generous pal he is, he will probably offer to let you go, so that you could marry me. But I couldn’t. How could I possibly rob him of the thing he cherishes more than his life?’

‘No,’ Linda choked out. ‘And I wouldn’t marry you even if you wanted me to. Not like that. I simply couldn’t bring myself to leave Rowley after all he’s done for me.’

‘Then you see why I’ll have to fade out. And soon too.’

Linda stood up. ‘I know you are old-fashioned. You have proved that tonight by your loyalty to Rowley. But I wouldn’t have you any other way. I love you for it, and always shall.’

As she spoke, she moved toward the door. He made no attempt to stop her. Both of them knew that to risk a last kiss would be too dangerous. Two minutes later she was back in her room. Now completely sober, chastened and drained of energy, she lay for a while reproaching herself bitterly for having made such a mess of things. Then she cried herself to sleep.

Rowley had already made arrangements for them to go again to Venice in September, and Linda was counting the days until their departure. London was hot and oppressive. She knew that her affair with
Eric was now a closed chapter of her life, so was doing her best to put him out of her mind. But the scene in his bedroom continued to haunt her, and she felt that only by getting away from the house to Venice would she be able gradually to rid herself of thoughts of him.

In the latter half of August he rang up Rowley to say that he had been appointed to a new job and that he would be leaving the country very shortly because he was wanted at his new post urgently; so he could only manage a lunch to say good-bye.

The meal went off quite smoothly, but when asked to what country he was going, he shook his head and replied, ‘Sorry, chums, but for the present, for security reasons, I’m not allowed to say.’

Afterwards, fighting down tears, Linda stood on the doorstep beside Rowley and, smiling bravely, waved her love away.

What she had told Eric about Rowley’s pressing her to let him resume sleeping with her was only partly true. During the summer he had on three occasions asked her to; but, in spite of her own cravings, she had firmly refused, and he had not pursued the matter.

Eric’s departure for an indefinite period had left Rowley very low; so, two nights later, to cheer up both him and herself, she suggested that they went out to dinner.

They dined well at the Connaught, sank two champagne cocktails apiece, a bottle of hock between them and topped off with liqueurs; so, when they got home at about half past eleven they were both much more cheerful and slightly mellow. Rowley suggested fetching a bottle of champagne from the fridge. Seeing the red light, Linda would not let him; but he insisted
on mixing them both brandies and soda as nightcaps.

Her foreboding proved right. Having taken a good swig at his drink, Rowley said that the evening would not be complete unless it finished up in her room. She promptly replied that they had been into the matter before, and she did not mean to change her mind. This time he would not take ‘no’ for an answer, and declared that it could not possibly do him any harm. She remained firm in her refusal and for a quarter of an hour or so they continued to wrangle. Eventually she told him that it was useless to keep on repeating himself, and went up to bed, leaving him there.

His raising the subject and talking about it for so long had again aroused her own frustration. Striving to rid her thoughts of sex, she undressed, got into bed and put out the light; but she could not get to sleep.

For over an hour she tossed and turned. Then she heard the door open. A moment later Rowley was leaning over her, breathing heavily. From his breath she guessed that, for the past hour, he must have remained downstairs drinking brandy. Shaking her by the shoulder, he said hoarsely:

‘Linda, I’ve got to. It’s six months since we did, and I … I can’t bear it any longer.’

Sitting up, she pushed him back. ‘No, darling, no! Please! I want to, too, but I’m not going to let you.’

Bursting into tears, he knelt down beside the bed, grabbing feebly at her with his hands and sobbing, ‘Linda, my love; please, please! You must, or I’ll go out of my mind.’

For how long he pleaded with her she could not afterwards remember; but his sobbing tore at her heartstrings as nothing else could have done. Meanwhile she was thinking, ‘We waited for only ten weeks after his
first attack, and he is as fit now as he was then. To let him once a month, as we did in the winter, can’t seriously harm him; and if I have that to look forward to, it will free my mind of this awful obsession. He’s right, too, about it being cruel of me to refuse him. After all, if he does have an attack, I know how to deal with it, and could get the doctor here quite quickly.’ So, at length, overcome by compassion for him, she surrendered and said:

‘All right then, darling; but for God’s sake, don’t let yourself become too excited.’

In a moment he had pulled down the sheets and was in bed beside her. Wasting no time in preliminaries, he embraced her and rolled her over on to her back. After that, everything happened very quickly. His breathing had hardly begun to quicken as a result of his amorous assault when, suddenly, he made a choking sound, reared up on her and gave a strangled cry. Then he collapsed and went rigid.

In awful terror, she called his name, ‘Rowley! Rowley!’ But she already sensed the appalling truth. His body weighed twice as much as it had before. She had a dead man lying on top of her.

For a few moments Linda lay still, positively paralysed by horror. She knew that she ought to have thought of the possibility of this happening, to have visualised herself in her present terrible situation. But she had not. She had thought that, at worst, Rowley would be stricken with another attack, that he would go purple in the face and become unconscious just as he had in Venice and Granada. But she had long since learned the first-aid treatment for a coronary. She had only to force him to swallow a couple of the pills the doctor had prescribed for such an emergency, and the worst would be over. Then she would telephone the doctor to come at once. For a few days Rowley would have to remain in bed, and then there would be another period of convalescence. When he had fully recovered, she would make him swear never, never to come to her room again.