Semi-Detached Marriage (9 page)

'Mr and Mrs. Richards are at the kirk,' she
informed them in a broad Highland accent. `They told me to show you over the
house.'

The house was large, much bigger than Cassie
had expected, and was well looked after and modernised. `This was originally
the local laird's house,' Simon told her. `He owned nearly the whole of Kinray
and all the land that the terminal's being built on. When our predecessors
bought it he moved out and went to live in the Bahamas on the proceeds, and the
company fully renovated and modernised this house. I understand that it had
been rather neglected for some time before that.'

`Och, that it was, sir,' the maid, Mrs.
Campbell, con
firmed. `The old laird didn't have a spare penny
to spend on it, and now they say he's a millionaire.'
            

Cassie looked at the middle-aged woman
curiously. `Didn't you mind the oil terminal being built here?'
            

'No, indeed,' the maid replied warmly. 'I've a
husband and three grown sons, and all of them out of work for years until the
oil came.'

She took them up the wide wooden staircase
and insisted on showing them every corner of the house, right up into the top
storey bedrooms and down to the cellar before Simon thanked and gently
dismissed her and she reluctantly left them alone. They were standing in what
was probably the best room in the house.

It had a high, ornately plastered ceiling and
the partly paneled walls were hung with a series of flower paintings. The floor
was of polished oak partly covered by a beautiful Indian carpet and the room
was warmed by the rich dark red velvet of the curtains as well as by the bright
log fire which burnt in the hearth and the sun which shone through the
sparklingly clean window panes. The furniture was mostly antique, but the
settee and armchairs were comfortable-looking modern re-productions in a pastel
pink flowered pattern.
            

But however beautiful the room, it was the
view that drew Cassie's gaze. She walked over to the deep window embrasure with
its red-cushioned seat and looked down the long vista of the garden to where
the greenness of grass gave way to the soft amber of sand and the scintillating
lines of light that marked the crest of each wave as it moved into the shore,
only to burst into myriad rainbows of spray as they broke on the beach.

For a while they both stood silently, then
Cassie sighed and said, 'You were right, it is beautiful.'

Simon came up behind her and put his hands on
her shoulders. 'I'm glad you like it.'

He spoke lightly, but Cassie could feel the
tension in his fingers as he waited for her to give her decision. And it would
have been so easy to have given in, to say, Yes, all right, I'll do what you
want. I'll give up my job and come here with you. And for a while it would have
been worth it, to see Simon's face light up with happiness and triumph and have
him show her how much he loved her for it. But she knew that it wouldn't be
long before this beautiful house would seem like a prison and her naturally
happy disposition begin to be eaten away by frustration and bitterness. She
loved Simon very much, but she didn't know if it was strong enough to survive
something like that. She owed it to them both to be honest, to say how she
really felt.

Simon was saying. 'I've never seen such a
magnificent piece of landscape.'

Deliberately Cassie moved out of his hold and
turned to face him. 'No. But who was it who said that landscape can become
extremely tedious when that's all there is?'

He looked at her for a moment, then shoved
his hands in his trouser pockets; a habit he had when he didn't want to show
his emotions. 'Does that mean what I suppose it does?'

'That I won't come to live here? Yes, I'm
afraid it does.'

He gave a short, mirthless laugh. 'I was
stupid to hope that this place would change your mind, I suppose, but
nevertheless I clung to that. I thought that if anything could persuade you it
would be this house.'     

 'I'm sorry,' Cassie said inadequately. 'I
know how much you want this job and will hate having to give it up, but I just
can't live here, Simon.'

Pulling a packet of cigarettes from his
pocket, he lit one and drew hard on it. He was still standing by the window,
looking out, but his expression was abstracted, as if his thoughts were miles
away. When at length he did turn to her there was a cold, withdrawn look on his
face.

'All right, then I'll just have to accept the
fact. But I'm afraid I'm not going to turn this job down, Cassie. Not just
because it's too good an opportunity to miss, but because I've already got so
involved with this project that I've got to see it through. I can't give it up
any more than you can give up your job.'

'B-but you can't!' Cassie exclaimed, her brow
wrinkling in perplexity. 'I've said no. I…'

'I know what you said,' Simon cut in, 'but it
doesn't make any difference. Tomorrow I'm going to tell the board of directors
that I'll accept the job.'

Cassie stared at him, her face hostile. 'Is
this some kind of ultimatum? Are you ordering me to come and live here?'

Simon's mouth twisted wryly and he sounded
suddenly tired. 'No, I'm not issuing any commands. Unfortunately you're one of
the few people here that I can't order around. Ironic, isn't it?' he added
bitterly. He drew on his cigarette, then looked at it and ground it out in an
ashtray as if he suddenly found it distasteful. 'No, I'm simply saying that
you've made your decision and I've made mine. We both want different things and
neither of us is willing to make any concessions. So we'll just have to go our
separate ways instead of being together.'

His words made Cassie feel suddenly very,
very cold.

Her face paled and her voice stuck in her
throat as she said, 'What do you mean?'

Simon turned to face her. 'That I'll live and
work here while you go on living in the flat in London. I'll fly down as often
as I can at the weekends, of course, but I may not be able to get away every
weekend, especially at the beginning, but perhaps you could come up here
sometimes. If that wouldn't be asking too much, of course,' he added cynically.

Cassie's first reaction was the overwhelming
rush of relief one always feels when a great fear is suddenly removed. Her
heart began to beat again and colour rushed into her cheeks.

'Oh, Simon!' She ran to him and threw her
arms round his neck, pressed closely against him. 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.'

His arms came round her and held her tightly,
but he didn't speak.

Lifting her head, her eyes close to tears,
Cassie said haltingly, 'Isn't there any alternative? I don't want us to be
apart.'

Ruefully, Simon shook his head. 'Nor do I,
darling. But I can't see any other way for us both to get what we want out of
life.'

'But for three years! It will seem like a
lifetime.' She put her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him worriedly.
'And what guarantee would we have that Mullaine's wouldn't send you off
somewhere else when this project is finished?'

'A lot can happen in three years,' Simon
reminded her. 'And by then, if I've made a success of this, I'll have a bit
more weight to throw about with the other directors.' He put his hand up and
wiped a tear from her cheek. 'Don't worry; we'll both be busy, the time will
soon pass, and we'll see each other as often as we can. Then I'll make sure
we're together.'    

'Promise?'

'Promise.' He bent and put his mouth on hers,
sealing the promise with a kiss.

Slowly Cassie opened her eyes to look at him,
studying each feature of his face all over again, realising that from that
moment on their lives, their whole relationship, was going to change. Up until
now she had been so happy, had had everything she'd ever wanted. Even now she
had, she supposed, again got what she wanted, and couldn't help feeling a surge
of satisfaction because of it, but she had had no idea that Simon would ever
decide on such a solution. That he could even contemplate it startled and at
first appalled her. Never in her wildest imaginings had she dreamt that they
would live apart, but as she thought about it she realised that it made sense,
and Simon was right, the time would soon pass, and they would see each other as
much as possible, almost as much as they did now really, because Simon was so
often away. As they left the house and walked to the waiting car, Cassie felt
almost cheerful again. Even if they were apart, at least there was no conflict
between them any more, there were holidays and lots of other times together to
look forward to and, she thought with satisfaction, she could now give her
whole attention to the improvements she wanted to make in the fashion
departments at Marriott & Brown's.

CHAPTER FOUR

AT first Cassie hardly missed Simon; it was
just like all the other times when he was away somewhere sorting out problems
for Mullaine's, and she didn't feel at all lonely. They spoke on the telephone
nearly every night, but this gradually became every other and then once every
three or four nights as they ran out of new things to talk about. They each
listened politely when the other talked about work and its difficulties, but
perhaps they both sensed that the interest was only cursory, that their minds
were too full of their own problems to pay any real attention to the other's.

He was unable to get away for the first three
weekends and Cassie voluntarily spent the Saturdays in the store, going through
the stock lists in the departments she'd taken over and deciding on what lines
she wanted to replace them. Unfortunately, from her point of view, the January
sales were over and Mrs. Nichols had already stocked up with new merchandise,
so it would take a month or two before she could put her own plans into
operation, but at least it gave her plenty of time to decide on exactly what
she wanted.

In the evenings she worked late, often not
getting home until eight or nine o'clock, when she either opened a couple of
tins or else took a ready-meal from the freezer and just heated it up, and sat
and ate it in front of the television, too tired to do anything else but let
the screen's flickerings lull her into a soporific, semi-trancelike state until
she rolled into bed.

This was fine for a while, but gradually the
pressure of work eased as she took full control of the new departments and
became familiar with their staff and needs. She decided to concentrate on
modernising one department at a time, and decided to start with the swimwear
department as that was the smallest and was just coming into its own again
after the winter run down.

She had a talk with the girls working there,
finding them keen and enthusiastic about her new ideas and making sure that
they were behind her. It was a policy she had always adopted and found that it
generally worked well, especially among the younger members of staff, although
there were always a few diehards among the people who had worked there for
years and didn't see any point in changing tried and tested lines and methods.
`But we've always displayed that model there,' one would complain when Cassie
told her to move the headless and limbless torso clad in a pink, boned
corselet.

`Yes, but now I want to put one of the more
lifelike models with the latest silk French knickers and lace bras there. You
see, it's near the escalator and we want the model to catch the eye of women
going up to the next floor and draw them into this department,' Cassie would
explain patiently, adding a clinching, `After all, the more people we get in
here the more are likely to buy something, and then your commission goes up,
doesn't it?'

It was stimulating and exciting and Cassie
loved it, but gradually she began to feel a little restless and lonely, began to
wish that Simon would come home.

Of course there was always Sue Martin, her
assistant, with whom she could have lunch or slip into a pub with for a drink
before going home, and a couple of times she went on shopping trips with Julia
Russeu, or some other friend, but it was in the evenings, especially when she
lay alone in bed, that she really felt lonely.

She would lie in the big double bed, tossing
and turning restlessly, unable to get to sleep even though she was both
mentally and physically tired, and it gradually dawned on her that it wasn't
only Simon she missed so much but also his lovemaking. Both of them had a high
sex drive and made love often when he was home, Simon-by far the more
experienced-always able to bring her to a dizzying climax time after time. And
she missed that, missed the joyous ecstasy of sex and missed just being near to
him, held close in his arms, feeling his strong male body against hers and
anticipating with certain excitement the rapture to come.

But when he did come home it was only for a
fleeting visit and most of the precious few hours were spent at the office.
Also it was the wrong time of the month, so Cassie felt, if anything, even more
frustrated when she went with him in the car to see him off at the airport.

`Surely they can spare you for at least
another day,' she complained as they drew up outside the air terminal. `It's
ridiculous coming all this way just for twenty-four hours.'