The Penny Bangle (21 page)

As she kissed him back, he found he wasn’t worrying or doubting any more.

The following evening, they went to a different restaurant, and Cassie seemed distracted, not talking much, not eating much, just sitting there and taking sips of lemonade and looking at him now and then, as if she couldn’t believe that he was actually there.

‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked.

‘You and me.’ She sniffed and looked so sad he thought she might begin to cry. ‘When you came to Alex, it was so wonderful to see you. But now I feel – I don’t know how I feel – ’

‘I make you sad?’

‘No, of course you don’t, but I worry about you all the time, and I want to be with you so much. But I don’t want you to think I’m – ’

‘I don’t think you’re anything but perfect.’ Robert thought, there’s no point in pretending I don’t understand, when she’s sitting there in front of me, and she’s blushing like the setting sun, but isn’t going to say it for me.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ he said.

‘Yes, I suppose I should be getting back.’

‘When are you on duty again?’

‘At eight tomorrow morning, but – ’

‘We could walk along the promenade.’ Covering her hand with his, he looked into her eyes. ‘Or perhaps we could go somewhere private? Somewhere more – ?’

He left the question hanging in the air.

Cassie looked back at him, meeting his gaze.

‘You’re saying, go to bed.’ She felt herself go red again. ‘I – well – I must be back by midnight, otherwise the other girls will wonder where I’ve gone.’

‘I’ll see to that, my darling Cinderella,’ Robert whispered softly. ‘I’ll deliver you myself.’

‘Oh,’ said Cassie doubtfully. ‘Well, then – yes, all right.’

‘All right, she says, as if I’ve asked her if she wants another cigarette.’ Robert took swig of whisky – the waiter had left a bottle on the table, and now he was taking full advantage. ‘I’m sorry, Cassie. It seems I’ve got it wrong.’

‘Oh, no, Rob! You’ve got it right!’ Cassie knew her face must be the colour of a robin’s breast. She almost wished he wasn’t here, looking so irresistible, so lovely. She’d never thought a man could be desirable, for men were huge and hideous, normally. But Robert Denham – he looked almost edible tonight.

He’d soon be going away again. He might be injured, or he might be killed. If she didn’t do this, tonight, she knew she would regret it all her life. She refused to listen to the little voice inside her head which said – but if you do, you might regret it, too.

‘Oh, Rob!’ she wailed. ‘I’d love to, want to – I want to more than anything! But – ’

‘But?’ repeated Robert.

‘I don’t know what people do when – ’

‘What?’

Cassie’s voice sank to a small, embarrassed whisper. ‘When they don’t want babies. Oh, I know what happens to make a baby. I’ve known for years and years, and the MO told us all about it when we first joined up.’

She stared down at the tablecloth. ‘But I don’t know – French letters, all that stuff. The army doesn’t issue them to us. I’ve never even seen one.’

‘I know what people do,’ said Robert, and an ironic smile creased his face. ‘But, Cass, don’t do this if it doesn’t seem right.’

‘You mean, if I’m too holy?’

‘I mean, a first time should be special.’ Robert stubbed out his cigarette, and looked round for the waiter. ‘We could go somewhere for an hour or two, or I’ll walk you back to where you’re billeted. You choose.’

‘We’ll go somewhere,’ said Cassie faintly.

‘You’re quite sure?’

‘I’m certain.’ Cassie stood up, picked up her shoulder bag, and refused to listen to the voice which was now saying that to use French letters was a sin.

He led her up a narrow alley to a tall, white house with dark blue shutters faded by the sun.

‘A hotel?’ she asked him.

‘You could say that,’ he murmured.

‘Rob, it’s not a brothel?’

‘It’s a lady’s private residence, and she lets out rooms to officers.’

‘Oh,’ said Cassie frowning, as Robert rang the bell.

Eventually, an old French woman with scarlet nails and lipstick, and wearing a black cocktail dress, opened the door to them. ‘Good evening, Madame Croix,’ said Robert. ‘Do you have a room?’

The woman didn’t speak. Instead, she merely shrugged, and then she held out one gnarled hand, sniffing when she saw the money was Egyptian currency, but after counting it she let them in.

He’s done this before, thought Cassie sadly. She knew it was unreasonable to hope she was the first. She knew a man who looked like Robert would have had many women. All the soldiers did. She’d seen them queuing up outside the brothels like so many housewives, waiting to buy fish.

But she was disappointed, just the same. She could feel the medals Lily sent her lying between her breasts. She should not be risking her immortal soul for this.

The room was small but very clean, with stiff, white Egyptian cotton sheets on an old gilt and iron bed. The shutters were closed and so the room was cool.

‘You had all this planned,’ she said.

‘I didn’t.’

‘Yes, you did.’

‘Well, all right,’ said Robert sheepishly. ‘I asked some chaps about the places I could take a girl in Alex, and someone told me this was clean and decent.’

Robert stood back, looked earnestly at Cassie. ‘Listen,’ he said quietly, ‘I don’t want to push you into doing anything that you don’t want to do. If you like, we’ll leave.’

‘You’ve paid your money now.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘I’m sorry, Robert.’ Cassie looked up at him. ‘I should never have got into this. I shouldn’t have led you on. They give us lectures all the time, you know, about what soldiers want, and how it’s up to us to stop them getting it.’

‘So do you want to leave?’

‘No.’ Cassie made her mind up. ‘I want to go to bed with you.’

‘I promise I won’t hurt you,’ murmured Robert, as he unbuttoned Cassie’s dress and kissed her on the temples, and as he stroked her neck.

But Cassie couldn’t respond to him. She stood there like a statue, like a woman made of ice.

‘What’s all this?’ he asked, when he found the silver chain and two or three holy medals that Cassie had worn around her neck since she had first left England.

‘They’re my lucky charms,’ said Cassie, shutting out the sound of Lily Taylor’s voice condemning the whole tribe of men, and Father Riley’s thoughts on purity.

As they lay together afterwards, Cassie thought it had been just as well that one of them knew what to do. She’d been to lectures, she understood the technicalities, she knew you had to make him wear a thing, she knew that if you went to bed with anyone who was diseased, you’d end up sick yourself …

But she wouldn’t have had a clue about the kissing stuff. Or what she was supposed to do to make it nice for him.

It hadn’t mattered. He had known, and he’d been kind and patient, he’d told her what was good and what was not, and then he’d made it wonderful.

‘But I haven’t,’ Robert cried, when they were lying comfortably together, and she remarked she didn’t mind if he’d had other girls. At least it meant he knew his way around the female body. ‘I – listen, Cass! Whatever you might have heard, not everyone – and anyway, there aren’t that many opportunities in the Tunisian desert.’

‘Then how did you know?’ demanded Cassie.

‘How did I know what?’

‘What would be nice for me?’

‘I have friends, they talk about it.’ Robert frowned, went red beneath his tan, and Cassie saw she must have got it wrong, that he was not a liar. He hadn’t done this before.

‘I’m sorry, Rob,’ she murmured, going red herself.

‘I should think so, too,’ said Robert.

‘You’re a natural genius.’ Cassie kissed his frown away.

‘You’re a cheeky monkey.’ But then, to her relief, he smiled again. ‘I say, Miss Taylor?’

‘Yes, Mr Denham?’

‘My brilliant performance must have been some kind of fluke, perhaps? Or shall we say beginner’s luck? So, just to make sure we’ve got it right, perhaps we ought to run through it again?’

‘Just so we remember next time, eh?’ Cassie smiled and kissed him.

‘Precisely,’ Robert said.

She didn’t
quite
believe him. Somebody who looked like Robert Denham – surely he’d had girls before? Surely he must have practised on many other women before tonight?

But, as Robert kissed her yet again, and as she felt herself begin to glow, she shut her mind to thoughts like that.

Chapter Eleven

‘It looks like someone had a lovely time last night,’ said Jane MacFarlane, as she and Cassie got ready to leave the villa the next morning.

‘Why should you think that?’ asked Cassie, yawning.

‘You’re grinning like an imbecile, and you’ve got red blotches on your neck.’

Cassie glanced in the little mirror above the kitchen sink. ‘Mosquito bites,’ she said laconically.

‘Mosquitoes, my Aunt Fanny.’ Jane MacFarlane laughed. ‘You running Annie around again today?’

‘Yes, so I’d better shift myself.’

‘You’d better dab some powder on as well, to cover up your bites.’ Grey eyes sparkling, Jane grinned at Cassie. ‘Aye, he’s very bonny,’ she admitted. ‘I’d not mind having a wee crack at him myself. But Annie won’t like the thought of nasty soldiers chewing at her girls.’

‘He’s not a nasty soldier, he’s – ’

‘Jings, Cass, spare us all that soppy nonsense.’ Jane took out her own compact, dabbed some powder on the marks on Cassie’s neck. ‘Aye, that should do it. Off you go.’

Robert stayed in town for four more days. When he couldn’t be with Cassie, he met up with other chaps he knew, and they dawdled round the sights of Alex. Or that was what he said they did. They loafed in all the officers’ clubs, he added, playing billiards, drinking, smoking, reading magazines.

‘As long as you’re not loafing with any other women,’ Cassie told him, narrowing her eyes at him and trying to make a joke of it, but feeling a sharp nib of jealousy stabbing at her heart.

‘Why would I want to be with other women, when I can be with you?’

‘You’re not with me always.’

‘Yes, I am,’ said Robert. ‘You’re always in my heart.’

‘Oh, Rob, you say the nicest things!’ said Cassie beaming. Then she wondered if she’d cry – and if he meant it. If she’d put her soul in mortal danger for a man who would forget her the moment he left Alexandria.

She couldn’t get Father Riley’s wise advice out of her head, even though she hadn’t taken any of this advice, and knew he’d be appalled and horrified if he knew what she’d done.

Although she couldn’t have any leave, Cassie managed to get a few hours off each working day. She and Robert spent another evening at the shuttered house, where time stood still for them, and where nothing mattered outside the stark, white walls.

‘What’s the matter, Cass?’ he asked, after they’d made love and he was lying back against the pillows, playing with her hair – which must have looked a sight, she thought, all messed up and tangled into elf-locks, she’d never get a comb through it again.

‘Nothing, Robert.’ Cassie forced a smile.

But – as always – guilt was spoiling everything. She wished there was someone she could go and see, someone who would make it all seem right. But of course it wasn’t right, and any priest would tell her so.

‘Then why do you always look so sad?’

‘I’m not sad at all.’ Cassie somehow managed to turn the smile into a happy grin. ‘I’m never sad when I’m with you.’

She thought he might say something now, something like she made him happy, something like they’d always be together, but he didn’t say anything at all. He just shook his head, he smiled a little smile, and he went on messing up her hair.