Whip Hands (15 page)

Anyway, while all these traumatic memories were rising unbidden to the surface, I remained suspended in thought. Rhona Fairchild must have been staring at me, but I was only aware of it when I heard Fi's voice beside me. I came to with a start.

‘Winona's given us the full tour of the school, mum. It's utterly fantastic. Will I be coming to Willowglen? Please say yes.'

Fiona knew how to turn on the charm when it was needed. I responded as the doting mother.

‘Yes, darling, of course. That is, if there's still a place available. We'll have to see. The new term's a month or two away. Say goodbye now to Miss Fairchild and Winona.'

I have never been more glad to get out of a place. Normally I can face up to my colleagues, especially the male ones, and get the better in any psychological skirmish. With Rhona Fairchild I felt helpless and exposed. Maybe it was because of that hateful gym. Or just possibly a case of bad conscience.

That evening I tried to raise the issue with Sebastian. He also was instrumental in this wretched scenario, after all. I suppose I should be grateful to Rhona for having brought us together, in an odd kind of way. She certainly hadn't intended it to finish up like that, but that's the way the cookie crumbled. I should have felt sorry for her, but we had all been young. Somehow winning had been all-important. Especially when it came to men.

I had no idea that she had turned to teaching PE. Rhona had been good at sport at college but she had been doing an MBA, the same as me and Sebastian. Class of eighty-something. It's true we lost contact. Sebastian and I married a year or so after college and we both had our careers; his in food processing, me in fund management. I suppose we mixed mainly with people in our own line of business. We'd never thought much about teachers until Fi came along.

‘Do you remember Rhona?' I asked him. ‘Rhona from college? Come on, darling, don't pretend to have grown completely absent-minded. You must still remember some of your student nights of passion.'

‘Oh, that. Yes, I suppose I must. Though not exactly blow by blow. We'd both had plenty to drink that particular night. Remember?'

‘Yes, I do remember. Not your finest moment.'

‘I thought you'd remind me of that. Why do you ask?'

‘I met her again today.'

‘Good heavens. How was that? Who's she with?'

‘Willowglen.'

‘Willowglen? I don't think I know them, do I?'

‘It's only the school your daughter's supposed to be going to next year. Rhona's the games mistress or the head of PE or something.'

‘Good heavens!'

‘Quite. I was sure she had higher ambitions with her MBA under her belt.'

‘Mind you, she was a looker, was Rhona,' Sebastian mused.

‘Don't quite follow your train of thought, beloved. Not sure that I want to, either.'

‘Oh, I never think about her now, if that's what you mean, old gal.'

‘Rhona seems to think plenty about you or, more accurately, about us. I got the distinct impression that nothing had been forgotten and certainly not forgiven. Are you surprised?'

‘As I say, darling girl, I hardly knew her. I've no idea if Rhona was one to bear a grudge.'

‘For God's sake, Sebastian, you were her lover!'

‘I suppose so. As I've told you before, I was reluctant. She was the one who made the going, if you know what I mean.'

‘Please don't try to explain, darling.'

He went off half an hour later to play a game of squash, or so he said. I poured myself a fortified G and T and sat in the conservatory to get away from the blare of the television. I needed to try to remember exactly what had happened.

 

It was the night of what we called the Dippy Dance - the farewell dance for those who were about to receive their diploma the following day. I'd had my eye on Sebastian for several months, and I was determined to come on strong at that dance.

No stratagem too bold, I'd said to myself, applying eye liner liberally. My eyes were not my strongest feature, and this was really my last chance. Of course, I knew he and Rhona were reputed to have a thing going. But I was confident I could take him away from her if I played my cards right.

It was held in a local hotel, quite posh. Throughout the evening I tried to win him away from her. All I got were a couple of dances, but nothing where we had real body contact. I could see he was flattered by my interest, but Rhona was waiting like a hawk to pounce on him once we'd finished.

She was wearing a revealing backless cocktail dress with a slit up to the thigh, a style I had dismissed as tarty back then. Rhona had the legs and figure, though. Sebastian was hooked, right through the balls if I can be frank. I wasn't surprised they left early, his hand exploring her backside freely as they waltzed out.

A few minutes later I followed, in a fury. I was intending to call it a night. But as I turned the corner outside the hotel to dash down a narrow alleyway to a taxi stance I noticed something out of the corner of my eye that made me freeze instinctively. Under a fire escape in a shallow doorway I saw a couple in a fervent embrace. Natural curiosity got the better of me. I quickly checked to see if I was being observed, then hunkered down behind a low parapet.

A few seconds later, as the girl in the long black dress arched backwards I realised it was Rhona. Of course, I could guess exactly who that shadowy figure was, just then giving his full attention to her cleavage. I gasped. She was letting him openly fondle a naked breast. Clearly Rhona was too far gone to care, quite different from the rather puritan, sporty image she normally conveyed. And I could hear she was whimpering like a bitch on heat. All my senses were on the alert. I felt my insides contract in a sympathetic ripple of desire.

And there was more to come. Within another minute the slinky black number had been gathered up in haste to form a kind of life-ring around her white thighs. Rhona had both breasts exposed and jutting proudly in the lamplight as she stood for a second facing him. Then her lithe figure seemed to stagger and Sebastian came out of the shadow to turn her round so that she had her back to the door.

I now know what I didn't then. My dearly beloved has a throbbing monster when he is fully erect. On that night all he did was unzip his flies, not even revealing a bare buttock. They indulged in a long, passionate embrace as he enthusiastically felt her up. Then he cupped her pubis with one hand. She blatantly pushed forward, responding to the pressure like a pet being stroked. She was shameless, apparently unaware of how visible their amorousness was to any passer-by.

He lifted her up lightly and with a small grunt of pleasure Rhona straddled him with those long legs I would have killed for. She leaned her shoulders against the door for support as he began to drive his shaft further into her with each lunge of his hips. Such was the intensity of her pleasure a shoe went flying off and fell to the pavement.

It was several strokes before he found a rhythm. But she was already rearing up and arching her back like a graceful puppet animated by his rod of flesh. One hand gripped his shoulder; the other was raised to press the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle the moans of mounting ecstasy. It was a fruitless attempt. Her cries gathered momentum. Her ultimate pleasure was fulfilled in one extended cry of abandon. He, too, groaned. Rhona slumped forward into his arms and there was only the sound of rasping breath as the two of them began to extricate themselves. It had barely taken a couple of minutes, and both were clearly satiated.

At that point I came to my senses. It had been like an intense dream. Maybe that was why I hadn't noticed the closed-circuit camera on the opposite side of the alley. It was directed at the very door where the shameless couple were now starting to restore their clothing to a state of decency. Within a split second I knew I had a weapon against my rival. I could see how it could be used. It was just a matter of reflecting on the rights and wrongs of using it to my advantage. I barely paused to consider. What else could a girl do when she had a man in her sights?

Without more delay I darted round to the security guard's office at the rear of the hotel. I didn't need to ask if he had spotted what had been going on. A bank of monitors faced him and only one of them was in close-up. It showed an empty doorway under a fire escape. The guard, all alone, had a red face which revealed that he, too, had enjoyed the experience. With a little encouragement he was persuaded to copy the action sequence of the video on to a cassette just for yours truly. I let him give me a peck on the cheek and quickly left him to his own devices.

As you will have deduced by now, the tape was not intended solely for my personal home viewing. After the diploma ceremony the next day there was a sherry party where parents, staff and students socialised. As a special attraction there was to be a video presentation put together by the communications studies department. This novelty comprised a series of short video clips of the successful MBA students saying what they hoped to achieve in the next few years. It was like a series of personal mission statements. All very silly in retrospect, and instantly forgettable. But not this time, as you will see.

The communications studies people were doing their last-minute panic, trying to string all these clips together. I just wrote ‘Rhona Fairchild (MBA)' on the cassette and dropped it in. They hardly looked at me. I prayed they wouldn't have time to look at the clip. And that day my prayers were answered.

By the time Rhona had run screaming from the assembly hall, after her ecstasies under the fire escape had been broadcast to the assembled multitude via a video wall of monitors, her mystique was zilch. They'd even added as a finishing touch a subtitle with her name on it. Pity there was no soundtrack, my dear, but the detail was certainly impressive. I hadn't realised that these closed-circuit cameras had night-vision lenses.

There was one slight shock, though. The camera was motorised and rotated through a semicircle. Just at the beginning of the clip there was a fleeting glimpse of me ducking down behind the wall. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, I reasoned. I hadn't when I saw it the first time. Had Rhona? But when I went back the following day to pick up the video it had already been collected. Any female could have given Rhona's name. At the time I thought it was probably her. This was a detail I only now recalled to memory.

As for Sebastian, he said he was totally unaware of what the fuss was about until one of his drinking pals nudged his elbow. As a result, he missed all but the last few seconds. Anyway, it had the desired effect. He took more notice of me during those last few days at college and he soon realised I was the girl for him. We married shortly after he got his first job at Thorpe's. To the best of my knowledge, he never heard another word from Rhona.

 

The letter from Willowglen arrived two days later. It confirmed that Fiona Delahaigh would be offered a place next academic year, conditional on a medical and fitness check. This would be for both her and me, her mother. Fi's could be carried out at her current school, the letter informed me, but I was requested to report at Willowglen the following week and bring exercise clothes. This was surprising, but not alarming as I kept myself reasonably fit with a weekly visit to my health club.

I put it to the back of my mind. For once I was unsuspecting and, as you will find out, I paid dearly for being so trusting.

As instructed in the letter, I showed up with my stuff in a shoulder bag. The school secretary suggested I should change in the headmistress' study as she was away for the day. I had almost changed into my lycra outfit when there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for a reply, Rhona strode in, dressed as before in a lime green jogging outfit and holding a clipboard under one arm. I was somewhat taken aback. She did not look friendly.

‘Oh, Rhona... how nice to meet up again. I'm here to take a quick check-up.'

‘I know why you're here, Joyce. You can thank me for it. The school nurse provided a list of background health questions, which I have here. I suggest you pass it on to your GP. In the meantime I'm here to check your fitness levels. It's a chore, but I'm looking forward to it.'

‘I see, how nice. But why is all this necessary?'

‘I thought the child looked rather frail. As you know, at Willowglen we place great store by a total education, both mental and physical. Occasionally we ask to see if the parents have anything in their medical history - anything that might be congenital, for example.'

It was said with a hint of a sneer. Rhona was clearly indicating that she was the one in charge, but I was determined not to be browbeaten.

‘You say this only happens occasionally. How often, for example?'

‘Only twice since I became head of PE. It's exceptional, I'll grant you, but I have the right to request a parental fitness report if there is cause for concern. Of course, if you'd rather not do it then there is no shortage of other girls who would be happy to take your daughter's place. So what have you decided?'

Of course there was nothing to decide. I had already played over in my imagination the scene where I told Penny and Roger that Fi was going to Willowglen next term. They would be thunderstruck. It was a small sacrifice to do a few stretches and curls in order to have such a triumph.