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Authors: Rosie Harris

BOOK: The Quality of Love
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‘Perhaps not, but he's noticed all the same. He's very concerned that you seem to be
behaving rather wild and that you seem to be becoming a flapper.'

‘I'm only catching up with what I should have been doing years ago,' Sarah told her. ‘Perhaps if I'd been allowed more freedom when I was growing up, instead of being made to study all the time, then I wouldn't be so eager to do these sorts of things now.'

Lorna sighed but made no comment, other than to reiterate that Sarah should take care not to land herself in any more trouble.

‘I've grown up and now I'm as hard as nails; no man is ever going to break my heart ever again,' Sarah told her with a brittle laugh. Nevertheless, she modified her hairstyle so that although it was still very short it had finger waves in it and at one side a single, big flat curl that rested prettily on her cheek.

She was also very circumspect about what she wore to work and kept the knee-high flimsy floaty dresses for when she went dancing. By day she wore plain colours, demure necklines and long sleeves. Mostly she favoured black skirts that reached to mid-calf and white blouses. In winter she wore black stockings, in summer the new flesh-coloured ones and strap shoes.

She enjoyed her work and the responsibility her position carried but nevertheless she was determined to make the most of her leisure time and Stefan was certainly the perfect companion when it came to flirting. What was more, like
her he was sedate and conventional during working hours.

In the office he was high-powered, efficient and respected, but his leisure hours were spent in pursuit of enjoyment and the friends he mixed with in the evenings and at weekends were not in any way connected with the City Hall.

Even though Sarah refused to partake in any of their drug sessions, he encouraged her to smoke ordinary cigarettes and presented her with an elegant ivory cigarette holder that was elaborately carved with flowers.

She'd known him for almost six months before she summoned up the courage to take him home. She warned him in advance that her parents were easily shocked and he promised to be on his best behaviour.

The occasion went far better than she could have hoped; her father treated him very civilly and was impressed by his business acumen and his knowledge of world affairs. Her mother was charmed by his saturnine good looks and his impeccable manners.

Their friendship had reached a new plateau and when a week later he invited her to a party at his flat in Tydfil Place she felt that it was time to make the situation between them crystal clear.

‘I love the excitement of flirting with you but I don't want things to become serious between us,' she told him. ‘I'm enjoying my life as it is,' she added by way of explanation.

He smiled sardonically and raised his eyebrows. ‘Who says it has to change? Getting to know each other better could improve it.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘Do you think I haven't noticed how reluctant you are to take part in petting parties? If you want to enjoy life to the full perhaps now that you know there is no commitment on either side you will relax and indulge. Believe me, you don't know what you are missing out on,' he told her with a lecherous smile.

Sarah felt the colour rushing to her cheeks. She'd told no one that she had been living with Gwyn or that she'd already had a child and she wasn't sure whether she ought to tell Stefan or not.

He took her hesitation and reluctance for shyness and, taking her in his arms, whispered that he was an experienced lover so she had nothing to worry about.

‘Spend the night with me, there's nothing at all to be scared about,' he urged. ‘I'll be so gentle, so tender that you'll be transported into a trance of heavenly bliss,' he promised her. ‘I'll make sure that it is highly romantic,' he assured her.

‘For us, maybe, but how will our families feel about us sleeping together if they ever find out?'

‘I have no family to consider and yours need never know unless you tell them.'

For the first time since she'd met him Sarah
was acutely aware that she knew nothing at all about his background. He'd never mentioned his parents or even if they were still alive; she didn't know if he had any brothers or sisters, or even if he had lived in Cardiff all his life.

She now felt that she needed to know these things; he was in his thirties so he might have been married and even have children.

The thought not only alarmed her but also made her realise that she had told him nothing at all about her own background. If she probed too deeply into his then in fairness she would have to recount details about her own past life and tell him things that she'd sooner keep quiet about. Perhaps his idea of secrecy was a good one after all.

‘I don't think we should make our affair public,' he went on, cutting across her thoughts. ‘It's not the policy of Cardiff City Corporation to encourage liaisons between members of staff. If it was all out in the open then you might be expected to resign and where would you find a job as lucrative as the one you are doing now?'

She felt a secret admiration for his forethought. She was enjoying her present lifestyle and she knew she wouldn't be able to afford to continue doing so if she didn't have such a high-paid job. She also suspected that Stefan was thinking of his own position as Head of Department because she was quite sure that his salary was considerably more than her own.

He was far too clever to rush her, and he
waited until the end of one of the Jazz parties staged in his flat. They'd been dancing with wild abandonment late into the evening and she'd had far more to drink than usual and her head was reeling. She felt so woozy that when it was time to go home she was unsteady on her feet.

‘Go and lie down on my bed for a few minutes and as soon as everyone has gone I'll make you a strong coffee and that will put things right,' he told her.

When he brought in the coffee she was still in a daze and she made no protest when he sat down on the side of the bed and began to gently smooth her hair back from her forehead.

She barely touched the coffee because her senses were so aroused and after a few minutes, when he started kissing her, Sarah found she was responding and she made no resistance at all when he began making love to her.

Chapter Nineteen

In the months that followed, Sarah revelled in her double life. By day she was a well-paid, highly respected member of the Housing Department; by night she was a fast-living, crazy flapper partaking in petting sessions where there were drink, drugs and abandoned dancing.

Sometimes their wild capers reached the headlines of the gossip pages of the
Western Mail
and the
Cardiff Evening Echo
but no names were ever mentioned although it often hinted that those taking part were highly regarded local citizens.

Although they indulged in high-spirited fun they always seemed to manage to keep within the law and if Sarah's parents ever suspected that she was one of the flappers being described they never mentioned it.

Occasionally, dressed in his dark pinstripe suit and crisp, white shirt and sombre tie, Stefan came to her home for Sunday tea and behaved impeccably. Sarah marvelled at the serious way he discussed financial matters and politics. Lloyd seemed very impressed and always remarked afterwards what a knowledgeable man he was. Often he even went as far as to
say how lucky Sarah was to have found such an intelligent friend.

She sometimes felt quite guilty about agreeing with him and wondered what they would think if they knew about his debauched parties and the drinking and drugs they both indulged in, not to mention the wild, passionate sessions of love-making that followed.

As these became more and more intense she arrived home later and later. Creeping indoors in the early hours of the morning, often high or light-headed, it took every ounce of care not to stumble over anything or cause any sort of noise that might disturb her sleeping parents.

When she went out on New Year's Eve she warned them not to expect her home until next day.

‘Stefan has invited several of his friends to stay over at his flat to welcome in the new year, so he has asked me to do the same because it will mean breaking up the party if he has to bring me home,' she explained.

‘Very thoughtful of him; a very sensible arrangement as long as you are not staying there on your own,' her father agreed. ‘The streets will be full of crazy revellers for a couple of hours around midnight.'

It was the beginning of a new order; from then on her parents accepted that along with other friends she would be staying over at Stefan's on a Saturday night.

Her mother kept telling her that she was
burning the candle at both ends. She knew this and was aware that she couldn't go on for ever living the high life, drinking to excess and indulging in wild parties like Stefan did, but she'd become addicted to his lifestyle. She revelled in it all and was shocked to the core when she discovered she was pregnant.

Stefan was equally upset and tried to persuade her to have the pregnancy terminated.

‘If you do that then no one needs to know. Tell your family that you are taking a week's holiday, arrange to have the time off and say nothing to anyone. I'll make all the arrangements; go to some place in Newport or Bristol perhaps, or even go down to London.'

At first she was in complete agreement with him, and then memories of Cladylliss began to surface and the longing to hold a baby in her arms again proved to be far too great for her to go through with his suggestion.

‘I want this baby,' she told Stefan. ‘I want us to get married so that we can be a proper family.'

They argued for weeks. He said he didn't want to settle down or have the responsibility of a family. He said they couldn't tell anyone at work because it might jeopardise his job when they found out that he was marrying someone who worked there.

‘Surely', he argued, ‘the fact that we love each other and want to be together is commitment enough and that's all that matters.'

When he took her in his arms and made love
to her she was persuaded that he was right and that it would be so much more romantic if they were married in a register office and no one at all except her parents knew anything about it. The way Stefan explained it all seemed so grown-up and exciting that Sarah was won over.

It was the modern way of doing things, she told herself; the only other person he'd said they'd tell was his long-standing friend and landlord, Ifan Hughes, who could be relied on to guard their secret.

Her only concern was that her parents would be disappointed. She was sure her mother had dreams of a white wedding and thought that perhaps even her father was looking forward to walking her down the aisle on his arm.

When she finally plucked up the courage to tell them that she and Stefan were getting married she emphasised that they intended it to be a very quiet wedding because then she wouldn't run the risk of losing her job.

‘Very sensible. I take it that was Stefan's idea,' her father pronounced. ‘He's quite right: the City Fathers are against married women working. I agree the woman's place is in the home but if they have the brains and the qualifications I see no reason why they shouldn't continue with their careers until they have a family. It's something you should fight for, Sarah. You women have the vote now so it's up to you to make sure it is put to good use.'

Their civil wedding was exceptionally quiet; only her parents and Ifan Hughes, who was there as a witness, attended. Occasionally in the days that followed Sarah wondered if it had actually happened and if she really was Mrs Stefan Vaughan.

She'd thought that since Stefan loved partying, and even though he had insisted on a quiet wedding ceremony, he would have wanted a big party afterwards. As it was, the meal at the Brecknock Hotel for the five of them seemed to be purely perfunctory. The moment they'd finished eating they went their own separate ways.

When before the wedding she'd said they must look for somewhere to live he'd looked astonished and said he had no intention of moving from Tydfil Place. The first-floor flat in a Victorian house close to Roath Park was quite spacious and he could see no reason at all for moving from such a desirable residence. Not only was the owner of the house a long-standing friend but also a great many of his friends lived nearby and he enjoyed all the parties that went on. If they moved, a new landlord mightn't like the idea of crowds of people, loud jazz music and dancing until late at night, whereas Ifan was always happy to join in.

When Sarah mentioned to her parents that they were staying on at Tydfil Place her father thought it was very prudent; but then, much
to her surprise, he'd not objected to their quiet wedding.

‘No sense in squandering money on non-essentials. Stefan is a very sensible man to be so thrifty,' he'd pointed out. She suspected that there was a sense of relief behind his remark and he was pleased he'd not been asked to foot a large bill that a full-scale white wedding would have entailed.

Once again Sarah found that her new life was different in every way from what she'd known in Cyfartha Street. Everything was to Stefan's taste, even the furnishings in the flat, and now that she was making her home there a great many of them seemed to be almost alien because they were so starkly different from what she'd been used to.

When she'd been merely a visitor she'd admired the fact that Stefan liked the bare minimum. Now she considered his black leather chairs and sofa far too masculine. He abhorred cushions, antimacassars, and all the other feminine trimmings that her mother had loved, and which had adorned her own home.

There were no photographs anywhere, only pieces of modern art which, like the furniture, were stark in outline. His kitchen had only the very minimal of utensils because Stefan didn't waste his time cooking; he preferred to eat out.

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