Beware the Roasburies! Pt. 07

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A quick wedding and no baby, there's posh for you!
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Part 7 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 10/21/2015
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Chapter Twenty Six

Connie and I had a snack before I took her back to Keele. We said not a word about what had happened, though the subject loomed large in the car. When we had unpacked her, I was ready to drive back. She came to me and put her arms round my neck.

"Graham..." she hesitated. "I'm sorry. You know that? I mean about not supporting you."

"Yes, I know. Don't worry about it. When we forgive, we forgive totally: it's over."

She kissed me gently and with obvious love. "Stay for a while?"

I nodded, and she stepped back, pulled her tee shirt over her head, unsnapped her bra, dropped her slacks, kicking off her shoes. Then she gazed at me with that sultry expression of hers as she slipped her french knickers down her legs, her breasts jutting deliciously and wobbling enticingly. She stood straight displaying all her curves and nodded at my clothed body.

I made to untie my shoelaces, but she took my hand and led me to the bedroom, pushing me to sit on the bed. Then she knelt before me and untied my laces, removed my shoes and then my socks.

"Stand up" she said, and when I did, she unsnapped and unzipped my trousers, pulling them and my briefs down to my feet, when I lifted each foot for her to remove them. She giggled.

"What?" I asked.

"You look funny in a suit, shirt and tie and a monstrous erection peeping out from beneath them."

How easy it is to boost a man's morale! Monstrous indeed!

I shed the suit, then the tie, then the shirt.

Once horizontal, she embarked on a tour of my body with her lips, completing it by kissing my cheeks, my ears, my neck, my closed eyes and finally my mouth. As we kissed I felt her hand grasp my cock and then velvet slickness as she pushed herself onto me, and me into her.

She moved. I moved until "A-a-h!" came her cry followed in short order by my own groan.

"Only you!" she cried. "Only you my darling! Never again! For you! Always!"

It did not make much sense, but my throbbing cock was taking most of my attention, and I think she was saying she would never doubt me again.

She fell forward onto me, measuring her length along mine, which she loved to do, my cock still in her though not as deep, and I could still feel her shivers from the remnants of her climax. There's no doubt, women have the best deal when it comes to coming!

There was a dawning realisation that her lack of support for me had affected her far more deeply than it had me, and that she was still quite desperate to assure me of her love and trust. She was still damaged by all that abuse, and her self-esteem still needed building.

It led me to say "I love you so much. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met."

She raised her head and looked at me. "Codswallop!" she muttered with a scowl. "Balderdash!" she continued. "Baloney!" she ended her refutation. "Don't you forget, you liar, that I've seen Colette!" She gave a grim smile of triumph. Then as an afterthought, "And Zena! Oh, and Harriet!" By now she was laughing.

"And your sister?" I smirked wickedly. Her face clouded. "Joke!" I said rapidly. "You're prettier than her."

"Than she?" She made to correct my grammar. A pedant after my own heart!

"Yes, OK, the verb 'to be' does not take an object," I said doggedly. "On the other hand if 'than' is a preposition, it takes the objective case – 'her'.

"But I was being precise as well. I did not say you were a more beautiful woman but person. You have suffered so much and you are still so loving, so thoughtful and caring. And you are very beautiful as well. I'm very lucky to have you."

She looked moved, but quickly regained her mischievous grin. "Is that all?" She asked.

"Don't be greedy," I said, then "OK, and you're a great fuck!"

"Perhaps, but I think I'm also a great lover." She looked smug, daring me to contradict her.

"That you are," I said.

"And so are you," she said. "And you're a beautiful person as well. I don't deserve you."

"I think we richly deserve each other." I said. This time she made no verbal reply but nodded her head.

Then she said as an afterthought, "I think that 'than' is more a conjunction! Therefore 'she', not 'her'!"

I groaned. We left the grammatical argument there – a lawyer and an English undergraduate should know when to agree to differ. A conjunction? Nah! But I kept that to myself.

Wednesday 26th April 72

Next day I was in the office at seven thirty, with a bleary eyed Zena next door who had complained about my enthusiasm for work, but understood my need to get back in harness after the inquiry. I caught up on WJT's case for an hour or so, before phoning their Deputy Chief Executive and acquainting her with my progress. She sympathised with my suspension and expressed her relief that I was still in charge of their case, so that put us back on good terms.

At ten, our clerk informed me that a Mr and Miss Gresty were waiting for me in the foyer. I let Patrick know about WJT, and informed him of the Grestys' arrival. He said he would prefer to be present at the meeting, and I saw the wisdom of that.

We went together to the committee room and asked our receptionist to bring them them up. The door opened and two rather crestfallen people entered.

"Mr Gresty, Caroline," a smiling Patrick said in greeting. "Shall we sit over there in the comfortable chairs," gesturing to the three piece suite at the far side of the room. The Grestys sat on the sofa, while we took the armchairs.

"Madeleine," Patrick addressed our receptionist, who had remained in the room waiting to see if there was anything else needed, "Could we have coffee, please? Perhaps Pauline could bring it for us?"

"Certainly, Mr Jenkins," said the pretty young thing, and left us.

I was looking at pretty young Caroline, who was clearly terrified, and at Mr Gresty who was tight lipped and uncomfortable. I noted there was no micro-skirt in evidence: she was wearing a tee shirt (with obvious bra) and jeans. OK, I felt just a little disappointed – memories!

"Now," Patrick began, taking the chair, as it were, "How shall we start? Mr Proctor?"

Thanks Patrick, I thought, Drop me in it, why don't you?

"I assume you've both been talking about the matter in hand?" I enquired.

"Yes, we have," said Gresty, "and I have to say I'm astounded at what I've learned."

Caroline looked even more frightened if that were possible – and it obviously was!

"Good," I said. "I think it would be best if Caroline speaks for herself."

I turned to face Caroline directly. "Now, Caroline," and I gave her a smile which I hoped was reassuring, "This meeting is not about telling you off, or punishing you. It is a quest for information, so try to relax, you are no longer in any trouble."

She smiled shyly at the man before whom she had stripped naked. She sighed. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I feel so embarrassed."

"Don't worry," I continued, my intent being on relaxing the girl, "We're not going to go over what happened, we are looking for the reasons why it happened. That's what I for one do not understand. Do you feel up to telling us why you did what you did?"

She sat on the edge of the seat, nodded, and began.

"I know I've been stupid, but it was because of what I was told."

"Go on."

"Mrs Roasburie [Bingo!] came and gave me the address of this firm. When I learned I'd got in, I remembered that she'd asked me to tell her how I had got on, and I was so happy I went round right away. Well, we chatted away about my hopes, and then she said I could help her in a very important matter which affected someone's safety."

"Connie's," I said.

"Yes, that's right. Then she started telling me about you, Mr Proctor. I know now it was a load of lies, but then I had no reason not to believe her. Please, you understand?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "I think I understand very well. Do continue."

"Well, she said that you had ruined Penny's life. You had seduced her over some months while having a thing with a number of other women, and you forced her and... deflowered her. Penny was badly affected and it took her a long time to get over your attack. Meanwhile you were sleeping with three or four other women from work where I would be going. She said she had an investigator's report to prove it, but couldn't prove the rape. I didn't know–"

"Don't worry, Caroline, I know that story. Carry on."

"Well, she said you had now picked up her younger sister, Constance (that's what she called her) who was a prostitute in London, and you paid her to come with you to Manchester. She said you were abusing her, and using her for your pleasure, and she couldn't do anything about it. She said she feared for her safety."

"But you could do something?" I suggested.

"Yes. You were a respected lawyer in this firm and seemed a very nice man, but you covered up all this womanising and violence. The only way she could think of to save Connie and other women, was to disgrace you."

"You were to seduce me."

"Yes, she told me how to do it. Don't get me wrong Mr Proctor, I'm no blushing innocent, I've been around (sorry Dad). Mrs Roasburie knows my reputation. She said to ramp up the sex talk and the flirting over time, and then offer myself. She said you would jump at the chance to have me and then I could complain and get you sacked."

"But I wouldn't," I added.

"No, so I phoned her and told her it didn't work, and she said–"

"To go ahead anyway: they would always believe a young girl against a powerful lawyer?"

"Yes, yes! Exactly that! She said Mr Walsh would try to see to it you were sacked. Even if it couldn't be proved, the stigma would attach to you and in any case Connie would see you for what you were, and you might still be sacked."

"So because you had no reason to believe she'd be lying–"

"Mr Proctor, I may be a bit of a tart, but I hate men who abuse women. So I hated you. I wanted to bring you down. I'm so sorry."

She looked woebegone and her father was shooting daggers at her.

"Caroline, you were lied to by someone in whom you should have been able to trust: a friend of the family. You were not to know you were being used. The iniquitous thing is that your written statement is libellous, and would doubtless have resulted in you never being able to practise law yourself. Your family could have been sued for damages after what your Dad said in front of witnesses."

At this the girl began to cry.

"Don't cry, Caroline, We all know this was not your fault, the real blame rests the with outrageous lies that woman told you. By the way, I will give you Penny's and Connie's addresses and you can find out from them the true story.

"By a faked investigator's report and by destroying other people's letters, Mrs Roasburie broke up my engagement to Penny, then has been trying to do the same with Connie; this is her third attempt. She simply hates me, why, I do not know."

"I don't know what to say," she sobbed. "You were so nice to me, you were kind, even when I tried to..."

"All I'd say to you is that you learn from being deceived. I would also ask if you would act as a witness if I were to bring an action against her."

"That bitch? Yes I would," she said venomously. "She could have ruined our family."

"They are no longer friends of ours," said Gresty. "I can't understand the woman. She's delusional."

We sent them on their way, no doubt with a lot to think about and a sense of relief.

"You wanted to see me?" asked Patrick Jenkins. I nodded.

I had borrowed the 'investigator's report' from Penny and took it from my briefcase, along with the original report from our tame PI firm, and laid them on his desk.

"Have you time to read both these, side by side?" I asked him.

"Yes, I've no meetings until this afternoon."

I proffered the original first. It had the subject of the report – me – and the commissioning agent, Kieran Walsh. It was a carbon copy – that's how we duplicated papers in those days.

"He had you investigated?" Patrick asked. "Did you know about it?"

I shook my head.

He opened it and began to read. His brow furrowed. "This reads like a report for a divorce." He said. I did not reply and he carried on reading. Eventually he closed the booklet.

"What you need to know is that Penny broke our engagement shortly after Easter last year; that date is relevant to this, the second report." I invited.

He read the outer cover. There was now no reference to Walsh, and it was a top copy not a carbon copy. Then he began to read. After three pages he opened the first report and began to compare the two.

"Clumsy!" he muttered. "Ham-fisted."

Then he closed both copies.

"I don't think I need to read any further. Enlighten me: for whom was this made?"

"You should know that Penny's and Connie's mother is the sister of Kieran Walsh. She's the woman who pointed Caroline to this firm. I don't know who had the report altered and retyped, but it was either Mr Walsh himself – he has access to our secretarial services – or Lucy Roasburie.

"It was produced to convince Penny that I had in fact been unfaithful before Easter when Penny ended the engagement. It fooled Penny and then Connie. Fortunately I was able to show them that the report was a fabrication.

"Now that the report has been exposed, there's been this attempt to discredit and ruin me using Caroline Gresty."

Patrick stared at me a while. "You'll leave the matter with me?" he asked.

"Happy to," I said. He smiled.

"That was a close call," he said. "You know that we would have had to take Caroline's word, or the practice would have been in danger of being discredited. That's life, I'm afraid. However, these two," he gestured to the reports, "would have cast a lot of doubt on the girl's evidence. All right, Graham, leave it with me, and I'll get back to you soon."

That evening I received a phone call from Connie.

"Well?" she asked. "How did the meeting go? Did you learn anything?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "I learned something all right."

"Go on!"

"Your mother–"

"Ah! I thought as much. Go on!"

"She painted a totally fictitious picture of the tragedy of Penny and me in which I raped her and turned her into a zombie or some such, continued to portray me as a womaniser who destroyed all Penny's confidence and made her a trembling wreck. I think I remember that she told Caroline that I had also fucked my way round the office.

"Then you. I picked you up where you were plying for trade on the streets in London, and paid you to come north where I abused you and made you my sex slave. She was in fear of your life but unable to stop me.

"She told the poor girl that though she, your mother, couldn't do anything, Caroline could. The rest you know."

"The bitch! The fucking bitch! To use an eighteen year old girl to trap you by having sex with you! And the outright lies!"

She paused, obviously thinking. "Graham? Does my father figure in this anywhere?"

"Not as far as I can see. I suspect he's been trying to drive us apart as well, though."

"Hmm. We need to talk about this at the weekend. You are coming here aren't you?"

"I'll see you Friday afternoon."

I then did a little research into Geoffrey Roasburie.

–-

Friday 28th April 72

"What did you mean about Daddy trying to drive us apart?" she asked. We had returned after dinner in the University Refectory, during the whole of which she had fulminated about her mother. Now we were sitting on the little sofa in the flat with a glass of wine each.

"Haven't you noticed the coincidences?" I asked her.

"Boxing Day: could you go home immediately that day; you went and he disappeared, leaving you to your mother's tender mercies. A couple of days, you said. It turned into weeks, and would had been longer if Colette and I hadn't been at home on holiday.

"Keele, getting you in here so quickly within a weekend, then saying you were not allowed visitors in your flat overnight – I checked, there never was any such rule. Why would he say that if not to keep me from visiting very often? And don't forget he said you'd have to stay at Keele during the Easter Vacation to use the library.

"Your celebration meal last summer. He purported to be there already for a meeting; there was no meeting, I checked. Hurrying you out to the restaurant, then a club where he suddenly couldn't stay, but miraculously Des was there to make your evening complete, and if I remember, to make a pass at you – try it on and see if you'd fall for him. He obviously thinks you're easy after London."

"But... I don't understand." She looked perplexed. She was steeling herself to defend him, after all she did love him as daughters do love their daddies.

I forestalled her.

"What about him separating from her?" I asked, rhetorically. "It didn't happen, he never made the slightest move in that direction.

"You said Derek told you they've been together a long time," I said. "That he finds life better with her than without her. Next time you pass a phone box ring home, see what happens. You can tell your mother the good news that you passed last summer and are going to pass this year as well.

"She hates me, Connie, you know that. Who knows? Perhaps it was a condition she put on him before she'd let him back. Get rid of Graham."

She was shaking her head, whether in disbelief or amazement at his actions i didn't know and decided not to push matters further. Time would tell.

Wednesday 3rd May 72

On Wednesday night she phoned. "I think you're right," she said.

"About?" I queried.

"Daddy. He was here yesterday. Invited me out for dinner and, low and behold, Des was there as well. Over dinner he told me you were losing your job after assaulting a teenager and wasn't it time to cut you loose? I don't think the Grestys have been in touch since the hearing. Anyway, he really put the pressure on to finish with you. You would have no job and would never be able to practise law again, and you might even have to go to prison.

"He left straight after the meal, leaving me with Des again. This time Des was more aggressive. He wanted me to start dating him now I was dumping you, and he tried to kiss me once we got back. I turned my head and he got my cheek.

"I told him I was going to concentrate on my work and didn't have time. I didn't say anything about you; I didn't want it to get back to Daddy.

"By the way I think you're right about Daddy working with Mother. I asked him point blank where he was living, and he had to admit he was back with her – no separation. He said she'd been proved right about you, and she'd only been acting in my best interests.

"I challenged him on trying to break us up, and he said he only wanted what was best for me. You had turned out to be an evil man. There were better and more suitable men for me; I knew he was talking about Desmond. It was as good as an admission. I said nothing, I wanted to discuss things with you first."

At that moment I knew what we should do.

"OK, we talk at the weekend. You still want me?" I asked, pretty sure of the answer, which I got.

"You're kidding me? I want you more than ever. You're my rock, and I'm glad you're all i've got to rely on. I love you very much."

"And I you," I replied feeling all warm inside.

I was in for a shock the following Friday, and it delayed my arrival in Keele.

Thursday 4 May 72

On Thursday it was announced that Mr Kieran Walsh had decided to retire and would not be returning to work after the two weeks' holiday he was taking after the hearing. I learned the reason on Friday afternoon.

Friday 5th May 72

I was asked to a meeting with Patrick and David on Friday afternoon at 5.00pm, after everyone else had gone home. There was no way I could turn them down, and no way to contact Connie. I could only hope and pray the meeting would be short, and wondered what the agenda would be. I was pretty sure I was not in trouble, but you never know.