Capital Sins (16 page)

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Authors: Jane Marciano

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'Do you
mind if we join you, Ma'am? Are you here by yourself?'

It was the
first man who'd spoken and she recognised an American accent. That surprised
her somewhat, for he hadn't struck her as being a Yank. But, since she'd never
met any before, Connie just put it down to what she realised was an absurd
notion that all Americans were white Anglo-Saxons. I've been getting too many
ideas from the pictures, she told herself.

He was
quite tall, with very broad shoulders under his spotless uniform. Clinging to
her preconceived ideas, she categorised his build as 'American' – she thought
of John Wayne – but in contrast his features were Oriental – attractively so.
His skin was smooth and bronzed from much sun and wind, his hair was jet black,
crew cut. His features contrasted oddly with a masculine, well-built body. The
eyes were almond-shaped, slanting upwards at the corners and fringed by long
lashes the colour of his
hair,
and the same colour as
his eyes. Even though his beautifully shaped eyebrows didn't wing upwards, it
was obvious there was Japanese blood in him. She looked away from this most
arresting-looking man to the other.

His friend,
who hadn't as yet spoken, looked more as Connie had expected as an American, if
that was what he was – quite tall, stockier and sandy haired. He had a round,
almost chubby face, with a cheerful expression, and neither of them could have
been much older than twenty-three or so.

Connie
spied
Tilly's
curly head bobbing up and down among a
sea of faces and, in reply to his question, raised her eyes to the
American-Japanese and said, a little lamely:

'
Er
, I'm with my girl friend
... '

He followed
the direction of her pointing finger and also saw
Tilly
,
who had just noticed the two men with Connie, and who was looking at them with
an interested expression. He turned back to Connie with a slow, lazy smile.

'That's
fine with us, isn't it, Gary?'

The second
man had quickly summed up the situation and he nodded obligingly. From nowhere,
they found two chairs and dragged them over to the girl's table. They settled
them selves comfortably, crossed their long legs, and the first regarded
Connie slowly with his dark, inscrutable eyes until she began to feel quite
uncomfortable. Then
Tilly
returned, bearing drinks.
She beamed at the men winningly.

'Hello,
boys,' she drawled, 'come to sit awhile with us, '
ave
you?'

The one
named Gary half rose from his chair.

'If it's OK
with you, Ma'am,' he said boyishly in a Southern accent.

Tilly
shook her curls in the way she knew became her.
'
S'fine
with us.
We weren't
goin
'
nowhere, and we was hoping to find a bit of company, wasn't we, Connie?'

Connie
could only murmur her agreement.

The first
man looked at the two glasses on the table,
then
smiled at his friend while producing a bill from his thick wallet.

'Go 'n' get
us four real drinks, Gary, not this lemonade stuff that the
gals've
got here.'

Gary
hurried off, apparently used to taking orders from his friend. Nobody spoke
when he'd gone.
Tilly
rummaged for cigarettes through
a bag she could never find anything in; while Connie twisted the strap of her
bag between her fingers and tried not to look as if she were interested in the
foreigner. But he was highly attractive. It seemed that each time she raised
her eyes they were met by his stare and it made her feel quite shy. Gary was
back soon and the four stared at one another in silence.
Tilly
was the first to break the pause, and she picked up her glass.

'Well,
cheers to you all,' she cried jauntily.

They drank
their whisky while Connie sipped at hers and stared vaguely at nothing.
Tilly
inhaled on her cigarette.

'How long
you guys in town for?'

'Two round
trips to the Persian Gulf, and our first night ashore,' Gary answered. He
leaned back in his chair, which creaked under his weight, and beamed at the
girls expansively.
'How's about telling us your names?'

Tilly
fluttered her eyelashes and simpered: 'I'm
Tilly
,
and this '
ere's
Connie,' she said, waving her hand. 'What's
yours,
mate?'

'I'm Gary;
and he's Alan. Well, now that we know each other, drink up so we can all have
another.'

Connie
resented the way Alan watched the proceedings with what she considered a
superior and supercilious smile, as if he spoke only when there was something
worth replying to.

'
Oooh
!'
Tilly
exclaimed
delightedly.
'You'll '
ave
us
tipsy!'

Gary winked
at Alan who was still maintaining a silent and thoughtful attitude. Connie felt
it was about time that he came off his pedestal and joined in, and clearing her
throat, set her gaze just below his nose.

'Have ...
have you been in the navy long ... Alan?'

'I'm not
with the navy. Second officer on an oil tanker, Connie,' he corrected gravely,
understanding her motives. His black eyes laughed at her. 'I joined up when I
was eighteen.
Gary about a year or so back.'

'It ...
must be a very exciting life,' she said uncertainly.

He grinned.
'It does get to be when we call in at port and get a chance to see what the
gals are like.'

Tilly
said coyly, 'You sailors are all alike.'

'That's us,
love '
em
and leave '
em
.'
Alan looked down at the whisky in Connie's glass which she had barely sampled.
'Come along, honey, finish it up,' he coaxed. 'We
cain't
enjoy ourselves if you're the only one who's stone-cold sober.'

She did as
she was told
,
then Alan swept up the empties and, with
the use of his powerful shoulders and some graceful
manoeuvering
,
soon found himself at the bar. Meanwhile, Gary had drawn his chair closer to
Tilly's
and Connie watched
them
whispering, heads close together. So that's the way it's to be, she thought,
reaching for the cigarettes. She had just inserted one between her lips when a
hand was before her face, steadily holding a lighter. She looked up and saw
Alan.

'Thanks,'
she said coolly, and blew smoke into the air. He sat down and raised his glass.
'To you,' he toasted.

She smiled
and drank. He suddenly leaned forward and Connie, not knowing what to expect,
taken unawares, reacted by jerking back her head.

'Don't be
scared,' he said, in his slow, sure way. 'I was jest going to feel your hair.
It's been a long time since we seen such good-looking gals, a man gets to
forget what a woman is like, being on board so long.'

She sat
motionless, back erect, while he gently smoothed her long hair with his
fingertips.

'Soft,' he murmured, 'like silk.
Has anyone ever told you what beautiful hair
you've got, Connie?' He looked at her then laughed. 'I guess they have,' he
added easily.

The corners
of her lips raised in a small smile. 'What's the name of your ship, Alan?'

'I'd rather
talk about you,' he returned lazily. 'What do you do for a living?'

'I'm a
secretary.'

'
Uhuh
.'

He didn't
pursue the opening, not that she blamed him: most people thought office work
boring anyway.

'You got a
pad near here, Connie?'

'Pad?'

'Flat,
home, apartment, whatever you call it.'

'Oh, not far.
I've got a room in a boarding house;
Tilly
lives there too.'

He crossed
his arms across his broad chest and cocked his head on one side! 'How would it
be if we all went back there and had a small party?'

She smiled
ruefully. 'It wouldn't do at all. Mrs Withers, that's the landlady, doesn't
like strangers in our rooms.'

'I'd be
quiet as a mouse.'

She noticed
that the 'we' had turned to 'I' and looked amused.

'I don't
think so,' she said firmly, and noted that he seemed a little taken aback by
her negative answer. She supposed he wasn't used to being denied anything by
girls
for,
she had to admit, although he wasn't
handsome in the conventional sense, his looks were striking, and she sensed in
him a kind of animal magnetism that was very compelling, an aura of
self-confidence and self-assurance.

Thinking it
over, she realised she'd said no to him, not because she was particularly
worried about Mrs Withers' rules and regulations, but just because she felt
like deflating his ego a little. And she didn't want to get too involved with
this man. Here today and gone tomorrow, he had virtually said so himself, and
what could he offer except perhaps .a diversion? She felt she could really get
to like him and could tell, see it in his eyes, that he fancied her. Yet why
encourage him, she thought, as she listened to him talking with the others.
He's the type that would fancy any pretty girl for a night but wouldn't commit
himself to anyone, and where would that leave me? And he seems to be ambitious,
not the kind of man who would settle down easily in marriage until he'd
achieved what he wanted from life. Still, every man wants to settle down
sometime and ... Oh, hell,
here
I go again, getting
all serious, when I promised myself I wouldn't.

The four of
them chatted amiably for a while, drank steadily, smoked too much, and soon the
influence of the whisky, plus the lively atmosphere in the pub had them all
laughing, relaxed, and in a friendly mood as if they had known each other for
years. Connie wondered whether she was drinking too much. Her face felt hot and
she knew her cheeks must have turned a bright pink. Sound had begun to take on
an echo-like quality and she felt as if she weren't quite solid, as if she
were
dreaming and nothing had substance. An inner voice
warned Connie to stop now, while she was still in control, but the two men kept
plying her with drinks. A glance at her friend showed Connie that
Tilly
was in her element, certainly not in any mood to be
restrained.

It must be
easy to be like her, Connie mused; never bothered about the future but living
each day as it came and forgetting it as it went.

Connie was
well aware that Alan was deliberately trying to get her stoned, and it pleased
her to think that she realised his intention. When he leaned forward time and
again to brush back her hair, or gently murmur that they ought to go some.
where more peaceful, she merely laughed, and shook her head. She knew it was
teasing him, but it was all part of the game. She lost count of the number of
glasses they had emptied when
Tilly
suddenly said
loudly, in a not too distinct voice: 'Gary 'ere wants to go back to my place to
cool
orf
a bit.'

'What about
you know who?' Connie interrupted, blinking to get the girl into focus.

'Stuff Ma
Withers,'
Tilly
giggled. '
More'n
likely she's got a bloke of '
er
own closeted away.
She
don'.t
bother me none,' she went on rashly, 'never
caught me yet, and what if she does? She
ain't
gonna
get rid of a regular-paying tenant so quick, not '
er
, not ole greedy guts.' She chuckled, then added,
'Anyway, she wouldn't get anyone else to live in that 'ole so quick, but if she
does chuck me out, I can find a better
place'n
that
pigsty any day.'

'I still
don't think it's a good idea,' Connie said unsteadily, not looking at Alan, but
feeling his eyes boring into her.

'Don't be
so
bleedin
' wet all the time,'
Tilly
retorted rudely, and then went on in a wheedling voice, 'Aw, come on,
kid
.'

'You go,
you and Gary
... '

Tilly
drew in a sharp breath. 'Gary says he won't be parted from his buddy and,
experienced as I am, I can't manage two tonight, but that don't mean I don't
want any. Give over, Connie, don't be such a wet blanket, you'll spoil the
party. Do
us
all a favour, eh?'

She
hesitated, then reluctantly Connie nodded and Gary patted her back approvingly
before standing up to help
Tilly
on with her coat.
Connie looked at Alan quickly and saw the satisfied, rather smug smile flicker
across his face before he wiped it off when he saw her eyes narrow, yet she
knew he had wanted her to see. It was definitely a game of wills.

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