Living Together

‘I was twenty when he died,’ she said in a stilted voice.

Leon walked along beside her, pacing himself to her smaller steps. ‘Had you been married long?’

She came to an abrupt halt. ‘I wish you hadn’t followed me,’ she said curtly, handing him back his jacket. ‘I left my coat behind, perhaps you could ask Jenny to bring it home with her.’ She turned on her heel and walked off.

She sensed rather than saw him still at her side, and a burning anger began to well up inside her. Why didn’t he just go away and leave her alone!

Leon put the jacket back around her shoulders. ‘You’ll catch cold in what little you’re wearing.’

‘Oh, so that’s it,’ she sighed. ‘Borrowed plumage, I’m afraid, Mr Masters. This dress isn’t me at all, not my style. I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression from it, but I’m really not out for a cheap affair, not with you or anyone else.’

Steely fingers clamped on her arm and spun her round, the other hand moving to wrench up her chin, forcing her to meet the anger in his narrowed eyes. ‘Don’t flatter yourself that I want an affair with you either!’ he snapped. ‘Frigid women aren’t my type.’

The colour drained from Helen’s face, leaving her chalk-white. ‘I’ll never forgive you for saying that!’ she told him vehemently. ‘Never, as long as I live. Get your hands off me!’ she ordered in a controlled voice.

‘Like hell I will!’ He pulled her so hard against him she lost her balance and would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding her. ‘At least, not before I’ve thawed some of that ice!’ His lips ground down savagely on hers.

Helen felt the taste of blood as he split her bottom lip against her teeth. And all she could feel was nausea—nausea for his mouth on hers, nausea for his hands pressing her body against his. She twisted her head from side to side in an effort to escape that punishing mouth, but he kept right on kissing her.

She could feel hysteria rising within her when he at last released her, her eyes deep purple smudges of pain in her pale, tense face. She rubbed her hand across her mouth to erase his touch, uncaring of the blood she was smearing across her cheeks.

‘My God!’ Leon was almost as pale as she was. ‘You’re not frigid at all, you’re just plain scared.’

‘I hate you!’ she spat the words at him. ‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!’ Tears were streaming down her face by this time. ‘How dare you touch me! How dare you!’

Then she was running, running, desperate to get away from him. His jacket fell unheeded to the ground and still she kept on running. She didn’t stop until she was sure he hadn’t followed her. That was when she flagged down a taxi, uncaring of the sight she must look with her dishevelled appearance and the blood on her face.

She was a hunched-up ball of misery when Jenny burst into the flat an hour later. She had felt numb by the time she got home, completely unable to do anything other than collapse on the sofa.

Jenny put the light on with a flick of the switch. ‘My God!’ she breathed softly. ‘Oh, my God!’ She ran over to cradle Helen in her arms. ‘Oh, Helen,’ she choked. ‘What did he do to you?’

‘Who?’ Helen asked dazedly.

Jenny smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Leon Masters!’ she said angrily.

Reaction was setting in in earnest now, a terrible shaking invading her limbs, her teeth chattering. ‘H-how do you know about that?’

‘Because he told me. That’s why I’m here. After disappearing for nearly an hour from his own party he came back and told me you needed me. He didn’t exactly say why, but I could guess. What did he do, Helen?’ she probed gently.

‘He—–’ Helen swallowed hard. ‘He kissed me!’ She shuddered at the memory of it, once again feeling those firm passionate lips on hers. No one had kissed her since—since Michael, and she could only feel angered and sick at Leon Masters daring to do so.

Jenny searched her features. ‘Is that all?’

Helen jerked away from her. ‘Isn’t it enough!’

‘But I—well, it was only a kiss, Helen,’ Jenny chided lightly. ‘You’ve been kissed before.’

‘No! No, I haven’t. Not since—not since—Michael,’ Helen had difficulty in even saying his name. She held herself stiffly. ‘I hate him!’

‘Michael?’

‘Leon Masters!’ Helen said sharply. ‘He kissed me and it—it was horrible. Horrible!’

‘He’s certainly made a mess of your mouth.’ Jenny touched her torn lip. ‘That’s going to be swollen and sore tomorrow.’

‘It’s sore now.’

‘I don’t suppose he appreciated you fighting him.’

‘That isn’t why he did it.’ Helen took a deep ragged breath. ‘He kissed me because he said—he said I was—frigid.’

Jenny frowned. ‘Does he know you’ve been married?’

‘Oh yes,’ Helen acknowledged bitterly, ‘he knew. He seemed to think it was his duty to snap me out of my frigidity.’

‘The insensitivity of the man!’ Jenny muttered. ‘Did you tell him about the accident, about—–’

‘No!’ Helen cut in shrilly. ‘No, I didn’t tell him anything. Why should I? He means nothing to me.’

‘But he’d like to. He more or less demanded that I introduce the two of you.’

’Well, I wish you’d said no.’

‘Stay there,’ Jenny ordered as she began to move. ‘I’ll get a cloth and clean your face up.’

Helen grimaced. ‘I wasn’t going anywhere, just getting comfortable.’

Jenny was back within seconds, gently sponging the blood off Helen’s face. ‘He was a bit rough with you,’ she murmured thoughtfully.

Helen winced as she touched a tender spot. ‘Rough!’ she repeated disgustedly. ‘He was like an animal!’

‘Oh, surely not. He—–’

‘He was like an animal,’ she insisted. ‘I suppose he thinks that because he’s who he is I should have felt honoured by his attention to me. He had the nerve to think I was attracted to him.’

‘And you weren’t?’

Helen touched the soreness of her mouth. ‘Doesn’t this tell you the answer to that?’ she grimaced.

Jenny shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’ She walked over to pick up the telephone and began dialling.

‘Who are you ringing?’ Helen asked curiously.

‘The man.’ She was obviously listening to the dialling sound.

‘The man?’

Jenny grinned. ‘Leon Masters.’