Semi-Detached Marriage (5 page)

'Afraid not, darling.'

Cassie shrugged. 'Oh, well, the idea was nice
while it lasted. Never mind, darling, I expect something else will come along
some time soon.'

Simon's eyes narrowed slightly. 'For whom?'
Eyebrows rising in surprise, Cassie replied, 'For you, of course. Mullaine's
are bound to offer you another directorship sooner or later.'

'Not necessarily. Vacancies for junior
directors aren't that thick on the ground. If I turn this one down for no
reason they're going to think twice before offering me another.'

'But you've got a reason,' Cassie pointed
out.

'It's in Scotland. No one in their right mind
is going to bury themselves alive in Scotland for three years!'

'Except the few million Scots who happen to
live there,' Simon put in sardonically.

'Unfortunately the poor things are stuck with
it. But that's neither here nor there.' Cassie dismissed the entire Scottish
population with a shrug of her shoulders.

`Simon, you can't even contemplate going
there. Why, the place is dead, a cultural desert. It's all snow, football
hooligans, and those dreadful accents that you can't understand a word of. And
didn't you say that the oil terminal is on the coast, absolutely miles from
anywhere?'

'It is in a remote spot, yes. It has to be,
for fear of an accident, but…'

'You mean it's likely to blow up at any
moment?' Cassie interrupted caustically. 'Charming!' Simon's features hardened,
his lips drawing into a thin line. 'That's always a possibility that has to be
taken into account when any kind of fuel is being stored. But the site
director's house is over a mile from the terminal, you can't even see it. It
sits by itself in the next valley with beautiful views over the sea.' Cassie's
green eyes widened as she stared at him. `The site director's house? You mean
you've already been to see it? Simon, you're not-surely you're not seriously
considering this crazy idea?'

Tight-lipped, her husband said firmly, 'Yes,
I am.' 'But-but you can't! What about my job, my promotion?'

Simon's lips twisted into a grimace and he
opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so Cassie added in obstinate
anger, 'I'm not going to give it up, Simon. I'm just not!'

His dark brows drew into a sharp frown as he
said shortly, 'Well, thanks for all the loving co-operation and understanding.'

Cassie bit her lip, but had to stay silent
while the waiter came to take away their plates and bring the second course.
She looked at the succulent food on her plate and found that her appetite had
completely gone; she wished that she'd never ordered it, wished that they were
at home.

As soon as the man had gone she tried to
placate

Simon by saying, 'Look, I'm sorry if I was a
bit blunt, but my…'

'Leave it,' he commanded brusquely. 'We'll
discuss it when we get home.'

But his high-handed tone annoyed her. 'No, I
won't leave it. It concerns me as much as it does you. My job's important to
me, Simon, and I don't think you have any right to ask me to give it up.'

'And has it occurred to you that my job is of
equal, if not more importance, to me?'

'I don't see how it can be more important.'

'Possibly because I'm supposed to be the
breadwinner,' Simon pointed out in heavy sarcasm. 'Oh, rubbish! That kind of
thinking went out with the Ark. Marriage is an equal partnership now, and I
have a right to work if I want to. And anyway, we need the money that I earn.'

Anger came into Simon's eyes as he leaned
towards her and said forcefully. 'You know dam well that isn't true. I was
earning quite enough to support you when we married, but you wanted to go on
working, no one was forcing you to,, so don't try and make out that we'd be on
the breadline without your salary.'

Cassie's mouth set into a petulant line. 'Oh,
I see, so now my salary is of no importance.'

'I didn't say that,' Simon returned
exasperatedly.

'Of course your money is extremely useful. I
was only saying that you don't have to work.'

Moodily Lassie glared down at her plate and
picked at the food on it. She had been so looking forward to tonight and now
the whole evening was ruined. Simon, too, attacked his meal, pleased to let the
matter drop for the time being, but Cassie couldn't let it alone. 'Okay,' she
said after a minute or two, 'maybe I don't love to work from the financial
point of view, but I do need to work for creative satisfaction. I'm not one of
those women who could sit at home all day with nothing to do. You know I'm
not.'

'Other women seem to find plenty to fill
their time,' Simon pointed out reasonably.

'Oh, coffee mornings and afternoon bridge
parties. That's not being creative. And anyway, women like that develop into
neurotics who live on Valium pills after a few years. Either that, or they feel
that they have to start having children to justify their existence. And that's
in London where you have cinemas, theatres, museums and galleries to go to.
Heaven alone knows what it would be like in Scotland. I'd probably go stark,
staring mad within three months,' she added morosely.

'It isn't the back of beyond,' Simon told her
impatiently.

'A daily shuttle plane flies from Glasgow to
London. If you did feel that you were incapable of sustaining life with only me
for company, you could always catch it and come to town for a few days.' Cassie
looked across at him quickly, the note of acerbity in his voice surprising her
because it wasn't one she was used to hearing directed at her, but before she
could make any remark, Simon pushed his hardly touched plate away and said, 'I
don't want this. How about you?'

'No.'

'Let's get out of here, then.'

He called the waiter over and asked for the
bill, but had to give repeated assurances that there was nothing wrong with the
food before he was allowed to produce his Diners Card and pay.

On the short drive home Cassie was silent,
trying to work out all the arguments she could use to try and make Simon change
his mind. Not that she didn't sympathise with him; to have been offered a
directorship in such a large and important company as Mullaine's at the
relatively early age of thirty two was, she knew, a real advancement and proved
that they had great faith in him. But to go to live in Scotland, it just wasn't
on.

Back in the flat, Simon immediately walked
over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a large whisky. 'I'd like one
too,' Cassie told him tartly, although she hadn't wanted a drink until she saw
that he hadn't bothered to get her one.

'Sorry.' He handed her a glass and then went
to sit on the settee. Cassie sat opposite him in the armchair and took a rather
defiant drink of whisky.

'Look, darling, I'm sorry if this means that
you'll lose your chance of being a director for a while, but I just couldn't
live in Scotland, I know I couldn't. I'd never be happy there.' She looked at
him pleadingly. 'Please try to understand, Simon.'

'Oh, I understand all right,' he answered
bitterly. 'You want everything to go your way and you aren't willing to make
any sacrifices, or even any concessions, to please someone else.'

Cassie fired up immediately. 'Why should I be
the one to make concessions and sacrifices? I've just reached the highest I've
ever got in my job and you're asking me to give it up.'

Simon drained off his whisky and stood up.
'So are you,' he pointed out heavily. 'And don't forget that I've worked just
as damned hard, and for longer, to get where I am. But that seems to mean
nothing to you; without much thought-and certainly without a qualm-you
expect-no, demand, that I should give up what is virtually an unprecedented
rise to director level. The fact that I'll then lose the confidence and
reliance that the Board of Directors have placed in me seems to be completely
immaterial to you.

For God's sake use your brain and think,
Cassie. Or even bring it down to the basis of economics; whether you like it or
not, I'm earning more money than you and therefore my job is more important to
us.'

'But mine has great potential,' Cassie put in
heatedly.

Simon's face hardened, grew grim. 'So has
mine and for a while today I had the laughable belief that you would be pleased
that I'd achieved that potential not throw it back in my face!' He shot the
last sentence at her, waited for her to reply, but when she didn't turned on
his heel and walked out of the room towards the hall.

Cassie gaped in surprise for a moment and
then got up to run after him. 'Where are you going?'

'Down to the pub for a drink.'

'Don't you dare walk out on me when we're in
the middle of a discussion!'

'Is that what you call it?' he demanded
jeeringly.

'All right, argument, then.'

He turned on her, suddenly angry. 'What's the
point of going on? It's checkmate. You won't give up your job and I won't give
up mine. So, unless one of us is prepared to give in, we've reached an impasse.
And as I don't feel like arguing round and round the subject all evening, I'm
going out for an hour.'

`Just an hour?' Her voice was small,
uncertain. `Just an hour,' he agreed, and Cassie was relieved to hear some of
the coldness had gone from his voice. She was sitting on the settee watching
television when he got back, but her attention hadn't really been on the
screen, she'd been thinking about the situation and realised that she wasn't
handling it very well. Coming right out and saying that she refused to go to

Scotland had put Simon's back up. She was
asking him to give up a lot, and there were more persuasive ways for a woman to
get what she wanted than having a stand-up fight about it. So she'd changed into
a new black lace nightdress that she'd bought in Paris and he hadn't seen
before and brushed her hair until it shone like a brilliant flame upon her
shoulders.

Simon didn't speak when he came in, just
tossed his jacket to one side and came to sit at the other end of the settee,
picking up her bare feet to make room and resting them in his lap. Idly he
began to play with her toes, and Cassie was glad that she'd painted the nails
with a delicate pearly-pink varnish.

'Was there anyone at the pub that we know?'
she asked him, liking the way his hands caressed her feet. `Just a couple of
the chaps from the tennis club. They didn't have their wives with them.'

'Oh.' His hands moved down from her toes and
tickled so that Cassie wriggled her feet.

`Sorry.'

He went to let go of her feet, but Cassie
said swiftly,

'No, I like it. It just tickled, that's all.
Don't stop.'

He smiled slightly. `You'll be telling me
next I'm a foot fetishist!'

'I always wondered how people like that get
their kicks.'

`With feet as perfect as yours it's hardly
surprising.' And lifting up her foot he kissed her instep.

`Hmm. Of course, you don't find any women
who're foot fetishists.'

Simon burst out laughing. `Are you saying
that all men have ugly feet? You're crazy, you know that.' He looked at her
then stretched out a hand. 'Come here, woman.'

Happily Cassie twisted round until she was
sitting on his lap, her arm round his neck.

`Is that a new nightdress?'

`Yes.'

His eyes ran over it, taking in the while
gleam of her skin behind the thin lace, the curves of her waist and hips. 'It's
very sexy. Why don't you take it off?'

'Simon!'

'Well, that's the idea of sexy nightwear,
isn't it? That it's to be taken off?'

'You have no romance in your soul,' Cassie
complained.

'A girl likes to be flattered a little
first.'

'I've already told you you've got beautiful
feet, what more do you want?'

`There's more to me than my feet,' she
pointed out.

'Mm, so I've noticed.' Undoing the silk bow
at the front of the nightdress, he parted it to reveal the creamy swell of her
breasts. He undid another bow to open it to the waist, then his hands moved
inside to cup the soft fullness of her breasts, to gently fondle and caress
them until they hardened under his hands, thrust towards his mouth as he bent
to kiss them.

Cassie put her hand down to hold his head
there, loving what he was doing to her, the soft, insistent pull of his lips
already driving her wild with desire. His head came up and he kissed her hard
on the mouth, bending her head hack against the arm of the settee.

`Does this nightdress turn you on?'

Simon laughed softly. 'Now who isn't being
romantic?'

`Does it?' she insisted.

`Why don't you find out for yourself?' He
took her hand and guided it down.

'Oh, Simon.' Her eyes gazed into his
pleadingly. 'I love you so much. Please, please don't let's argue any more. I
can't stand it when we fight.'

For a moment his hand tightened on her arm,
hurting her so that Cassie bit her lip to stifle a wince of pain, fleetingly
afraid that she had been too direct, had aroused his anger again, but then he
said roughly, 'Don't worry, we'll work something out. We have to work something
out.'