The Runaway Woman Part 4

Lucy hoped so. 'I don't know what's happening, Mary. Just lately, it's one thing after another.'

In that moment, Mary thought of how things were worse than Lucy could possibly imagine, with her two-timing husband and her own sister having a full-blown affair. It was a wicked and shocking betrayal. After what she had witnessed the previous morning, the knowledge that those two were cheating on Lucy had been gnawing at her ever since.

She was on the verge of telling Lucy what was going on behind her back, but then she remembered how Peter had been dead set against either of them getting involved.

Mary, however, did not agree with sweeping it all under the table, and besides, she believed that Lucy deserved to know the truth. One way or another, she must make Lucy aware of what was going on. She had been agonising over it, but how could she tell Lucy without actually getting herself and Peter involved?

While she thought of it now, a sudden, sneaky idea came to her. Yes! The answer was right there all the time.

Lucy's quiet voice jolted Mary out of her thoughts. 'Mary, are you all right?'

Startled, Mary looked up. 'Oh, Lucy, I am sorry.' 'Yes, I'm fine ... I was just thinking.'

Lucy understood. 'I expect you're tired, what with Rascal's adventure and everything.'

'You're right. I was close to nodding off.'

Mary bitterly regretted having to deceive Lucy, but it was the best way if she and Peter were not to be drawn in. But she had to do it now, in case it was a while before she saw Lucy again. 'Lucy?'

Lucy looked up from stroking the little dog. 'Yes, Mary?' When the older woman hesitated, Lucy sensed her nervousness. 'What is it?'

'Oh, I don't suppose it's anything really, only what with you saying you haven't seen Paula for over a week, I was just wondering ... is she all right?'

'Well, yes ... I think so, but what makes you ask?'

'I'm sorry, Lucy, I really shouldn't worry you ... you've got enough to think about, what with your mother and such ...'

'Has Paula been a nuisance?' Lucy asked. 'I know how rude she can be if the mood takes her. Come on, Mary, out with it. What's she done to upset you?'

Mary was beginning to regret having started this conversation, but she held her resolve and continued with the deception. 'Oh, no! She hasn't upset me. In fact, we're the best of neighbours at the minute; as long as my cat doesn't get in her back garden and leave his mark.' She went on, 'Look, I don't want to worry you, Lucy. It's just that I had not seen her for a couple of days, but this morning as I pa.s.sed her house she was talking to the postman and, to be honest, she looked so tired and pale ... all kind of huddled up ... not at all like the Paula we know.'

'Oh dear.' Lucy felt guilty. 'She's had a rough time of it lately, but I really thought she was dealing with her marriage break-up. The trouble is, our Paula hardly ever confides in anyone. She likes to think she's invincible.'

Lucy went back over the past few months in her mind. While Paula's husband, Ray, had tried his hardest to keep the marriage together, Paula seemed to be hankering after a life without him and, as ever, she was her own worst enemy.

'Paula was the one at fault in the marriage, but she wouldn't listen,' Lucy admitted. 'She obviously thought that Ray would forgive her, however she behaved. When he walked away from it all, she was shocked to her roots, and it's such a shame, because he idolised her. And deep down I know she truly loved him. But now you've got me worried, Mary. I must find time to go and see her ... make sure she's all right. The thing is, I planned to check on Mum tonight. You know she's been upset and ill since the fall, and I thought me going over to see them might give Dad a little break. And tonight was ideal, what with Martin working late, and Sam off out with his mates.'

The decision was made. 'I'd best go and see Paula tonight, though. I mean, she's the only one of us who doesn't have anyone at home to talk things through with ... not since Ray walked out. I can ring Dad from there. I'm sure he'll understand.'

Mary was curious. 'Is Paula's marriage well and truly over then?'

'Well, yes. From what I understand, she's been served with the divorce papers, but she's taking her time to sign them. The trouble is, ever since Ray left, she was certain he would never serve the papers. She was convinced that the two of them would get back together. Receiving the papers knocked her back a bit, though, being Paula, she would never admit it.'

A few minutes later, anxious to make sure her sister was coping, Lucy bade Mary cheerio and set off at a fast pace towards the bus stop, thinking that it wasn't wise for Paula to show a brave face to the world when inside she must be devastated. No one could help her if she didn't let them in. Lucy realised that her younger sister was still reeling from the end of her marriage. It was a huge, painful milestone in her life.

Knowing her sister's unpredictable character, Lucy quickened her steps.

Having carefully manoeuvred his van into the narrow alcove, Martin went at the run down the alley, skipped up the two steps into Paula's back garden, and let himself in through the back door.

Having seen his approach through the back window, Paula hid behind the kitchen door and waited to surprise him. She was wearing only a short, slinky slip; and a disappointed frown.

Entering the kitchen, Martin kicked out with his heel to shut the door. He then grabbed Paula and pressed her hard against the wall.

'Ready for me, are you?' His roving hands reached inside her slip.

'Where the h.e.l.l have you been?' She pushed him away. 'You should have been here ten minutes ago.'

Surprised at the vehemence of her tone, he gathered her to him. 'Hey! It couldn't be helped,' he explained softly. 'I had a last-minute complication with the electrics. It won't happen again, I promise.'

'It had better not, because if you ever keep me waiting again, I'll bolt the door so you can't get in.'

'You wouldn't dare!'

'Huh! Don't bet on it!' Squirming from his grasp, Paula fled up the stairs, laughing and teasing as he chased her into the bedroom.

Anxious to speak with her younger sister, Lucy hurried down the street, her heels beating against the pavement as she neared the house. She thought of how Mary Taylor had described Paula as looking sad. Paula had best come and stay with me for a while, Lucy decided as she hurried along. It's a pity she's not full time at the petrol station because now it will give her more time to fret. I can't leave her alone in that house, wittering and worrying, and making herself ill. But who can blame her for feeling miserable? What with the endless rows between her and Ray, then the difficult marriage break-up, and then getting sacked and having to find a new job.

When Lucy took a moment to compare her own life against her sister's, she truly believed that Paula was worse off. While she, Lucy, had a husband and children, and a full-time job, even if it was hanging by a thread, Paula had none of these blessings.

She's been through the mill, Lucy acknowledged, but she must know that I will always be here for her.

On arriving at the back door of Paula's house, she stood on the step a moment, wondering what she might say. She reminded herself not to say that Mary had been talking to her. It would only cause trouble.

Bunching her knuckles to knock on the door, she was surprised to find it slightly open. Honestly! she thought. What have I told her about leaving the back door open? Anyone could walk in!

She gently pushed the door open, and was about to shout for Paula, when she heard the sound of voices from upstairs. One of them sounded like that of a man.

A smile crept over her homely face. Maybe Ray had decided to come home after all.

Though nervous about intruding, she made her way to the foot of the stairs, where she was shocked to her roots to recognise the man's voice as belonging to her own husband.

She wondered if Paula had arranged for him to call round because of a problem in the house, but he had not said anything about that at breakfast; she would have remembered.

Think, Lucy! she told herself. Martin doesn't always discuss the details of his work schedule. But if he was working at Paula's house, surely he would have mentioned that?

Confused and a little apprehensive, she sensed that something was not right. Yet still she chided herself for allowing her imagination to run away with her. She told herself that it could not be Martin upstairs she would have seen his van outside and the voices were softly intimate, with the occasional childish t.i.tter of suggestive laughter. And yet ...

Ashamed, Lucy tried to blank out the bad thoughts. She told herself that it could not be Martin up in the bedroom; and more shame on her for allowing herself even to think it.

It must be Ray, come home to talk things through, with the hope of repairing the marriage. Lucy's heart lifted at the thought of a reunion between Paula and her estranged husband.

And yet that small, nagging voice in her head was warning her that something was not right here.

Having allowed suspicion to creep into her mind, she wondered whether she ought to make herself known. She was about to call up to them when there came a burst of familiar manly laughter. Lucy's heart stood still.

There was no doubt in her mind now. The voice, the laughter ... it was Martin, her husband.

For what seemed an age, Lucy stood transfixed, her ears a.s.sailed with a burst of intimate groans and excited cries, the kind only lovers might make.

As the stark realisation took hold, she could barely breathe. Although she promised herself that she was wrong, and this was not happening, she knew it was. As the lovers continued to laugh and whisper together, the truth was undeniable. It really was Martin and her sister, upstairs in each other's arms.

Devastated, she turned to leave, wiping away her tears, but then a swell of rage flooded through her and shock turned to anger. No! She had to see them together. She needed each of them to look up and see her standing there. Only then would she be completely certain.

Lucy knew that if she ran away from the truth now, she would live to regret it.

Her mind was set. Whatever shocking images she might discover, and however painful it might prove, she would rather know the truth than be forever wondering.

And so, on nervous legs she continued on up the stairs, and along the landing. The bawdy laughter drowned out the sound of her approach.

In that first, hesitant moment when she entered the bedroom, Lucy was sickened by what she saw.

They lay in the bed, exhausted ... coupled together. The sheet was crumpled part-way down, their naked bodies entwined. Paula had her hand on the back of Martin's head, her fingers caressing his hair, and Martin was lying over her, his face nuzzling her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

For the longest moment, they remained blissfully unaware that she was in the room, watching them, unable to move forward, or flee from the room. Lucy saw her husband and her sister, as close and together as any man and woman could be, and she realised that as long as she lived, the image would stay with her.

A wave of coldness folded over her, and she began to sob, silently at first; then, as the pain intensified, the sobs became uncontrollable.

Martin looked up, his eyes wide with shock. 'Oh my G.o.d ... Lucy!' Tearing at the sheet, he covered his nakedness and ran across the room towards her. 'Lucy ... I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry!' he screamed after her as she ran down the stairs. 'Lucy ... please ... wait!'

Behind him, Paula was nervously giggling; though tears were not far behind.

As Lucy ran out of the front door and down the street, Martin ran back into the bedroom. 'I need to go after her!' he gasped, s.n.a.t.c.hing up his clothes and quickly dressing. A moment later, he was fleeing down the street after Lucy.

Even now, he was arrogant enough to expect her forgiveness.

Lucy, though, was long gone. Bitter tears clouded her vision as she fled, half running, half stumbling, her mind filled with what she had seen. 'How could they?' she kept asking herself. Even though she had seen them together with her own eyes, Lucy found it difficult to believe they could both betray her so cruelly.

Having taken a short cut home, Mary Taylor arrived just as Lucy was walking up the alley towards Paula's house. She saw Lucy go in, and now she saw her running away.

She heard Martin calling out, 'Come back ... please, Lucy ... we need to talk!'

Lucy gave no answer, nor did she look back. Instead, she ran on blindly, tears streaming from her eyes.

Watching from the window, Mary saw how distressed Lucy was, and she blamed herself. 'You interfering old woman!' She banged her clenched fist hard on the windowsill. 'Why couldn't you have minded your own business, and left well alone?'

Falling into her armchair, she cried bitterly.

A moment later she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'Don't upset yourself.' The soft, kindly voice soothed her troubled mind as Peter held her to him. 'It was only a matter of time before Lucy found out anyway.'

'Oh, Peter, I feel so ashamed. I should never have interfered. You were right to warn me against it, but I couldn't bear to see how she was being made a fool of.'

Peter's own feelings were much the same. 'I'll admit, when you told me what you'd done, I was angry. But after thinking it through, I believe you did the right and proper thing. Like you, I feel for Lucy, but at least she knows now. You've done what you can, and now we must take a step back. It's up to Lucy as to how she deals with it.'

Greatly relieved, Mary wound her hand into his. 'You're such a blessing to me,' she said softly. 'I do love you so.'

Holding her to him, Peter smiled contentedly. 'I know you do, sweetheart. I also know what a very fortunate man I am.'

CHAPTER FOUR.

WANDERING THROUGH THE quiet streets, Lucy made a forlorn figure.

The late April showers had now developed into a heavy downpour, but she didn't even notice. Instead, she pressed silently on, deep in thought, not knowing where she was or how far she had walked.

Try as she might, she could not shut out the image of Martin and Paula, lying together in her bed, the two of them stark naked and unashamed.

She recalled how natural and easy they were together. It must have been going on for a long time, she quickly realised. They were too comfortable with each other, laughing and teasing like long-time lovers; wickedly at ease together.

The more she thought of it, the more she realised the depth of their deceit. Martin's work van had been nowhere to be seen. So had he hidden it? Was the whole thing planned right down to the last detail?

She had so many unanswered questions. How could Martin do this to her ... and with her own sister? Martin was her whole life. The man she had loved and trusted all these years, and like an idiot, thought he loved her too.

When the rain spewed down and blinded her so she could hardly see where she was going, Lucy ran along the street and took refuge in a nearby bus shelter.

Completely drenched, she curled up on the wooden seat at the back of the shelter, hoping that there she might be left alone.

Dark was closing in. The street was empty, and the light by the shelter was flickering, creating ghostly shadows to unnerve her.

In that desolate moment, she felt like the loneliest person in the world. She put her hands over her face and sobbed, her heart broken. She had given Martin her whole life and this was what it had come to.

A short time later, she caught s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation between two people nearby; seemingly a man and a woman. They were approaching quickly, and then they were running to escape the rain, their rhythmic footsteps clipping over the pavement, every second bringing them closer.

Convinced that they were making for the shelter, Lucy pressed herself closer to the back wall, hiding in the shadows. The last thing she needed right now was for strangers to see her there.

As they approached the shelter, their raised voices became more distinct. Now they were laughing aloud at something the woman had said.

'The place at Littleton is the answer,' the man told her. 'It's absolutely perfect for you.'

Suddenly the woman lost her footing, crying out as she stumbled. 'Dammit! I should never have worn these new, high-heeled shoes. What was I thinking?'

Lucy froze when the woman leaned against the opening of the shelter. 'Stand still!' The man's voice was kindly but firm. 'Hold on to me, Nancy.'

Though they had not yet realised Lucy was there, she could see the two of them clearly. The man was tall and smartly dressed. He held the woman steady while she took off the offending shoe.

'All right, are you?'

'It serves me right,' she replied, 'but I dare say I'll live ... thanks, Dave.' Gently rubbing her foot, she chuckled. 'Nothing broken,' she reported, 'except for my stupid pride!'

Lucy cowered back, swiftly wiping the tears from her face.

Just then the man glanced up, to see Lucy squashed into the corner of the bench. 'Good Lord, you gave me a fright!'