Semi-Detached Marriage (7 page)

`The helicopter is a godsend to the oil
industry,' Simon remarked as the machine started to rise. 'They're used
continuously, especially ferrying men and equipment to the oil rigs out in the
sea. Rather like a bus service, really, only far more reliable and efficient
than London Transport, of course.'

His hand came down to cover hers, warm and
comforting, while he went on talking, gently reassuring her by his choice of
words, letting her know that he knew she was afraid, but that the flight was a
safe, everyday occurrence.

`Look out of the window,' he went on. 'When
you're only this high everything looks as if it's on a model scale, as if
you're a giant with the whole earth to play with.'

Reluctantly Cassie turned her head to look out
of the window and, after the first hesitant glance, immediately became
fascinated as she saw the airport reduced to toy size below them. But
everything was in such perfect detail: the planes waiting to take off, little
vans being driven up to unload them, tiny men in white overalls hurrying along
like ants on an anthill. This was, she supposed, what the term `bird's eye
view' was all about.

They were in the air for almost half an hour,
flying to the north-west across Scotland's riveted valleys and deep green,
rolling hills,. most of them still capped by snow, until they were suddenly at
the coast with the surging grey sea below them.

'There's the site.'

Simon pointed over to the right and for a
moment Cassie thought it was a large seaside town they were approaching, but
then she saw the massive round oil storage tanks, some already built, others in
the process of construction and the other mass of building work, the whole
covering a huge area of land.

'Fly us round the site before you land, will
you?' Simon instructed the pilot, who nodded and banked the helicopter into a
steep turn that took them round the perimeter of the massive site. 'Down there,
out to sea, you can see where the jetties for loading and un- loading oil
tankers are being built,' Simon told her. 'There will be three initially, with
a fourth being built later. We expect to have up to twenty crude oil-carrying
tankers a week when the terminal is fully operational, and also a smaller
number of gas carriers.'

He pointed again as the helicopter turned
away from the sea. 'That building there is the terminal's own power station
which is essential to give us the power to run the separation plant.' He saw
her blank look and added, 'Coming ashore in the crude oil will be a mixture of
hydrocarbon liquids, dissolved gases, and some water, so we have to separate
the gas and water from the oil to yield products that can safely be
transported.'

He went on to point out other aspects of the
site, but Cassie listened with only half an ear. Her mind was taking in this
new aspect of her husband; a man who was an expert in his job and who had been
offered the control of this whole huge operation that lay spread below her like
some huge-scale map. She also noticed how he used the possessive pronoun when
talking about it, and realised that he was already deeply involved in the
project, even if not yet part of it. The helicopter finished its circle of the
site and flew on for about a mile towards a group of buildings that this time
did turn out to be a small town with its own airport.

'This is Kinray village,' Simon told her.
'The construction company we took over from built it to house all the workers
on the site before they started the terminal. They finished it some time ago
and it's already settled down into being a community-as much as a place can be,
that is, when most of its inhabitants are constantly changing.'

The helicopter settled down gently on the
landing pad, the rotor blades coming to a halt as the engine was switched off.
Cassie found the ensuing silence an almost physical release. Some steps were
wheeled up to the door and Simon took her hand as she climbed rather stiffly
down.

'Good morning, Mrs. Ventris-or may I call you
Cassie? Remember me, I'm Patrick Bright, the Financial Director of Mullaine's.'

'Yes, of course. How are you, Mr Bright?'
'Oh, please, call me Patrick.'

He took her arm, a short amiable-looking man
of about forty-five whose keen financial brain was belied by his appearance.
Cassie had met him only a few times before at various official functions and
was rather overwhelmed that this member of Mullaine's hierarchy was making such
a fuss of her. He led her to a car, sat down beside her and insisted on
spreading a rug over her knees.

'It's just a short drive to the hotel, won't
take more than a few minutes,' he told her as Simon got in at her other side.

It was, as he'd said, a short drive, and he
kept talking the whole time so that Cassie had to give him her attention and
she had little opportunity to notice her surroundings, but she did catch
fleeting glimpses of the 'village', and she got the impression of raw newness,
of grey prefabricated buildings thrown up in haste, with no sort of
architectural embellishments, just large barrack-like blocks adapted for
different uses; a parade of shops, a post office, a garage, and several that
were obviously hostels for the single men who numbered the greater part of the
large work force. The hotel was a little better; some thought had been given to
its design and it resembled some of the more modern London hotels, all tinted
glass and variegated concrete, which was supposed to give it individuality.
           

A rush of cold air whipped round her as she
got out of the car, but there was hardly time for it to penetrate her fur
jacket before Patrick Bright had hurried her into the centrally-heated warmth
of the hotel. This, at first, was comfortingly warm, but then began to feel
rather oppressive so that she soon slipped off her jacket as the hotel manager
himself came forward to greet them and then led them into a lounge where
Patrick Bright ordered coffee.

'Thought you might like a hot drink before
you go up to your room. Don't worry about your suitcase, the porter will have
taken it up.'

The coffee came almost at once, as if the
order had been anticipated, the waiter and the hotel manager fussing around
them to make sure they had everything they wanted.

'Of course, you've got to remember,' Patrick
was saying, 'that Kinray is very much a new town. And unfortunately most of the
accommodation buildings had already been put up when we took over, so we had no
say in their design, and,' he leaned forward confidentially, 'quite frankly,
Cassie, they're extremely ugly. But now that we've taken over we hope to
improve matters and we've already started building a new sports complex to take
the place of the inadequate facilities they had before. The new complex is
going to have indoor tennis and squash courts, an ice hockey stadium, a bowling
alley, as well as an Olympic-sized swimming pool. You name it, we've got it,'
he added, with some pride.

'It all sounds wonderful,' Cassie said
politely, because he obviously expected her to make some such comment. 'For
people who are interested in sport, that is. I-'

'Oh, we haven't forgotten the arts and
sciences either,' the older man told her. 'We have two large cinemas, a theatre
where good touring companies can put on their shows, musical as well as
theatrical. Then, of course, there's an extremely good library, one of the best
for a place this size that there is in Scotland.'     

'Well, I expect there's plenty of time to
read; the nights in winter are extremely long, aren't they?' She spoke civilly
enough, but there was an edge to her voice that Simon picked up at once. He had
been sitting silently, letting Patrick Bright take over the conversation, but
now he glanced quickly at her and
realised from the set look
on her face that she was becoming annoyed by the hard sell she was being given.
He went to say something, but before he could do so Patrick Bright said
over-heartily, `But we have an extremely active social life here-lots of
parties, a bridge club and a drama group, that kind of thing. More
organisations than you have the time to go to. My wife always has a very
enjoyable time whenever she comes up here.'

`Yes, but then she doesn't have to live here,
does she?'

He got it then, realised that he was
overdoing it, and immediately stood up, glancing at his watch. `Well, if you'll
excuse me, I have an appointment shortly. And I expect you'd like to get
settled into your room. But I hope you'll join me here in the restaurant for
lunch at one, and then we've arranged for you to have a tour round Kinray.'

He took his leave and Cassie and Simon
immediately went up to their room. Cassie was silent as they went up in the
lift with the porter who was showing them the way, waiting until he'd shown
them into the room. Only it wasn't just a room, it was a suite, with a large
sitting-room as well as a luxurious bathroom and a beautifully furnished
bedroom with twin beds under gold-coloured counterpanes. On a side table there
was a complimentary bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, together with a large
box of chocolates, a packet of Scottish shortbread and a basket of fruit. There
were flowers, too, in both the sitting-room and the bedroom.

Ordinarily to stay in such luxury would have
thrilled and excited Cassie, but right then it only added to her anger, to the
feeling that she was being wooed into accepting something she didn't want. So
as soon as the porter had gone she turned on Simon angrily. 'If you think I'm
going to. . '

But he stopped her by the simple expedient of
coming up to her and kissing her hard on the mouth. For a moment she tried to
resist him, but he put a hand on the back of her head, pressing her against
him, and after a few minutes she reluctantly opened her mouth and was instantly
lost to everything else.

When eventually he let her go she stood still
in his arms, her body quivering. Slowly she lifted her head to look at him.

`That wasn't fair!'

He grinned. 'No, it wasn't, was it? But at
least it gave me the chance to get a word in before you erupted.'

Cassie stiffened. 'I had a perfect right to
be angry.' 'I know. I quite agree.'

'You do?' She looked at him in some
astonishment.    

'Yes. Poor old Patrick overdid it, I'm
afraid. But you'll have to forgive him; he really is enthusiastic about this
project and wants it to be carried out as quickly and efficiently as possible.
And if having me in charge of construction is going to help, then he'll do
everything in his power to help bring that about.'  

   'Including giving your less than
enthusiastic wife the hard sell,' Lassie said accusingly.

Simon shrugged. 'To him it isn't a hard sell.
He genuinely believes that we're creating something worthwhile here, a place
that provides every need of the workers and mores place where even a London
businesswoman would find enough entertainment and not be bored.'

Cassie stepped back out of his arms and
glared up at him. 'If that's supposed to mean that I'm too snobbish
or stubborn to accept what there is here, then you're wrong. I'm
quite capable of filling my time and entertaining myself, if necessary.'

His eyebrows rising quizzically, Simon said,
`But even so, you're still quite convinced that you'd be bored here, aren't
you?'

'Yes.' Cassie turned away and took a few
paces round the room, then turned to him, her hands opening to- wards him in a
pleading gesture as she tried to make him understand. 'Because what's offered
here is only entertainment, a means of passing the time. Oh, perhaps
pleasantly enough, if you really let yourself get involved. But that's all it
is. There's no creative stimulus, no challenge. Nothing to make you go to bed
feeling satisfied and fulfilled by the work you've done during the day. Nothing
to make you look forward to tomorrow. Even if I filled every minute of my days
here, I'd still only feel that I was marking time, just filling in the hours of
waiting until I could get back to London and start living again.'

She came to an abrupt stop, her face flushed,
her green eyes gazing earnestly up into his. After a moment, she added, 'You do
understand, don't you?'

Simon laughed mirthlessly. 'Oh, yes, I
understand all right. Though it's not easy for a man to accept that he takes
second place to his wife's work!'

Cassie stared up at him in consternation.
'But that isn't what I meant at all. That doesn't come into it.'
          

'Doesn't it? I seem to remember you saying,
before we were married, that you loved me so much that you'd follow me anywhere
I went. But it seems that that only applies so long as it's in the environs of
London,' he added with bitter irony.

Green eyes flashing, Cassie said heatedly,
'Oh, for heaven's sake stop it! You're taking this personally, when there's
nothing personal about it. If you'd been offered a post in some other city
where I could have got a similar job I would have gone with you willingly. And
if you want to quote what we said in the past, wasn't it you who said that all
you wanted in the world was to make me happy? Well, I wouldn't be happy here.'
She shook her head helplessly. 'I've tried to explain to you how I feel. I'm
sorry if you don't like it, but that's the way it is.'

She gazed at Simon, half unhappy, half
defiant, waiting for him to speak. For a long moment he stood, hands shoved in
his pockets, looking at her broodingly, then he sighed, came over to her and
pulled her to him, her head on his shoulder. Ruefully he said, 'You're right,
neither of us can help it. We're both products of our age. You fighting for
equality, and me agreeing in principle that you should have it, but the first
time our paths diverge expecting you to conform to the traditional feminine
image-and give up everything for me.' He gave a wry grin. 'Selfish, aren't we?”