Corner Table

"But I asked you, not..."

"I pay for my own ticket or I don't go."

"Oh, then w-w-will you let m-me p-p-pay for s-s-supper afterwards?"

That hadn't been in the agreement but I was ready to surrender.

"All right John, you buy supper. Now I really must go."

"Me too," he replied. "I'll let you know how much the tickets cost so you needn't miss lunch."

We left the café together. He went to a bus stop in the Square and I headed for North Terrace and my bus.

I wondered why the evening seemed so bright and my feet seemed hardly to touch the pavement.

Chapter 9. Doubts and Lady Windermere.

He didn't join me at lunch the next day, but towards the end of the lunch break he came bounding over to my table.

"I've got terrific seats for Friday. They were all booked out, but the actors are given two complimentary tickets each night for friends or relatives and one of them had said he didn't need them for Friday, so I got them."

"Free?"

"No, I had to pay for them."

"How much?"

"Thirty five dollars each."

I gave him the money.

"I'll pick you up if you give me your address," he said.

That put me on the defensive again; I didn't want him knowing where I lived.

"I'll drive in myself," I replied, "and meet you outside the theatre."

"Oh, all right. What restaurant would you like to go to for supper?"

"Right opposite the theatre is California Street, beside the city market, there are some Chinese restaurants, let's eat there."

"Great, I'll ring up and book a table."

His enthusiasm was infectious, so I added, "A table for two."

He grinned, "Yes, for two. I'll go and telephone them now."

I watched him hurry out of the cafeteria. "Well at least he's keen," I thought, "but why?"

It seemed odd that he was sufficiently interested to date me. Quite apart from the appalling way I'd treated him, I estimated that I was at least seven or eight years older than him and I'm no super-model when it come to looks.

As he had said, there were other girls working in the building, Margaret and Pam for example, both well known as eager legs spreaders. Surely John must know that he wasn't going to get into my knickers.

I shrugged mentally. He had asked me and the day was all the brighter for it. The lunch break was at an end so I rose to leave. Margaret and Pam were still lingering and as I passed their table Margaret, with a smile that might have passed for a sneer said, "I see you and the boyfriend have made it up. Pity, I could have fancied him myself."

I hesitated in mid-stride about to snipe back at her, changed my mind, and walked on. I wasn't going to let anyone spoil the day for me.

When I got home that night I took a look through my wardrobe, working out what I would wear Friday evening. Apart from a few pieces of underwear and some stockings I hadn't bought any new clothes since I'd left Windabri. Dissatisfied with what I saw I decided that I had to get something new for the occasion. It was Wednesday, so I would forgo lunch the next day and buy myself a new outfit.

When Thursday lunchtime arrived I hurtled out of the building and made my way to Rundle Mall. There were many clothing shops there. These shops changed hands with great regularity as each went broke and were taken up by those who thought they could do better. I could understand why, because I opted for one of the big department stores on the grounds that I thought they would have a bigger range to choose from.

The place was extremely busy, no doubt many of the shoppers were like myself, on their lunch hour. I made my way to the women's department and started my hunt through the racks of clothing, not sure what I wanted to buy. After much holding up and a few trying- ons and with the advice of an assistant, I settled for a cream coloured suit and a pale green shirt.

I rushed back to work, arriving just in time. I was in the midst of trying to persuade a patient he could produce a urine specimen if he really tried – I was annoyed with him because he was supposed have brought it in with him – when the telephone rang.

A voice that I thought was Pam's said, "Your boyfriend on the line." There was faint click and the next moment John was speaking.

"Laura, are you okay?"

"Yes, why?"

"You weren't at lunch and I thought something might be wrong."

I'd forgotten to tell John I wouldn't be in the cafeteria. I didn't want him to think I'd gone out to buy something to wear because I was going out with him, so I just said something about having some shopping to do.

"You are all right then?"

"Yes, of course I am. I'll see at lunch tomorrow."

"Oh, good...good, just so long as you're okay, Laura."

I could see my patient emerging from the cubicle triumphantly bearing his specimen so I said, "Got to ring off, John, a patent. See you tomorrow."

"Yes."

It occurred to me as I replaced the receiver that no one had enquired after my well being ever since I'd started with the practice. The only person who had asked about my state of health had been the practice manager when I'd been at home for a few days with the flue. Her only concern for me had been when I would be getting back to work.

That John had bothered to enquire after me was very touching, and it gave me a nice warm feeling inside. I even stopped being annoyed with my patient.

When I got home that evening I rushed straight to my bedroom and tried on my new acquisition. I pirouetted and turned before the long mirror, and caught myself wondering whether John would like it. I soon put a stop to that, telling myself that I had bought it for me, not John.

I wondered why I liked John when there were so few others I did like. He was gentle and clearly very shy and would stutter painfully in the face of rejection and rudeness, yet he never struck back. Was he a wimp, a weakling who would let people walk all over him?

He had none of the dashing good looks and charm that had drawn me so easily to Glen, and if he did have those sort of looks I don't think I would have let him get anywhere near me. I'd had enough of that sort of thing.

But then, did I know what I wanted? I had thought I knew; had sought solitude in my fortress, and now John had made a breach in its walls.

Over lunch the next day John chattered on about our upcoming evening together without any trace of a stutter. He asked me again if I would like him to pick me up, and again I refused, saying I would drive in to the theatre myself. I never took the car into the city centre on work days because of all the traffic and parking problems, but I thought a Friday evening would be different. In any case my address was a bastion I was clinging to.

My calculation about Friday evening traffic proved incorrect. I had forgotten that lots of other people chose Friday evenings as a time to go out. In addition I'd also forgotten that on Friday evenings the city market was open, and the market was right opposite the theatre.

I drove round and round trying to find somewhere to park, getting increasingly desperate. Finally I snuck into a spot in Oakley Place, having spotted a car just pulling out. I walked back to the theatre and despite my anxiety I arrived with fifteen minutes to spare.

I stood outside for a while watching the people coming and going in the market; some bearing plastic bags of food and other items, and some pushing shopping jeeps. Behind me the theatre foyer was already crowded and others were still arriving. There was no sign of John.

People waiting in theatre foyers seem to have a particular way of behaving. They eye each other off, but in a "look at me" manner; the women are trying to make up their minds if their clothes are better than "hers," and the men wondering if the woman they are with is as sexy as that girl "over there."

At five minutes to eight I was growing impatient and was once again experiencing that "I've been stood up, feeling." I turned and entered the foyer, wondering what I would do if John didn't arrive, since he had the tickets.

There, in one corner of the foyer, John was standing, looking around uneasily. He saw me as soon as I saw him and his face broke into a smile. I think we were both so relieved at seeing each other that as I approached we took each other's hands.

"I thought you'd changed your mind," he said.

"I thought you'd changed yours," I replied, "I've been waiting outside for ten minutes."

"I've been in here for twenty minutes."

We both burst out laughing, causing a number of people to turn and stare at us.

"You look lovely, Laura."

"Thank you," I said as demurely as possible, but thought, "Bloody flattery, he knows damned well I'm not lovely."

"Shall we go in, I've got a programme."

We entered the auditorium and were shown to our seats. They really were excellent, being in the middle of the fifth row back in the stalls.

We had just got comfortable when the house music and lights faded, and the curtain rose.

For the next couple of hours we were treated to that brand of comedy and pathos of which Oscar Wilde was such a master.

The lovely young and recently married Lady Windermere; the mislaid fan; her suspicion that her young and handsome husband was seeking to have an affair with a mysterious beauty; her twenty first birthday party ruined by her suspicions; the misunderstandings and all coming right in the end.

In the play the young Lord Windermere really only had eyes for his wife, but in my cynicism I thought, "In real life he'd have had the mysterious beauty's legs open and he'd be between them, pretty wife or not."

The trouble was, you see, the mysterious beauty bore a strong resemblance to Cynthia; tall, blond and busty. I couldn't see if her eyes were the same shade of blue as Cynthia's.

We came out of the theatre well entertained and happy. People were making their way home or like us, going on to have supper in a restaurant. John had chosen well but expensively. That troubled me a bit because I calculated that he wouldn't be earning a fortune at Whibly's, not at this stage of his career, or at any stage for that matter.

A number of other couples had come from the theatre to the same restaurant, among them were a couple of very attractive women.

As I have indicted, there were many differences between John and Glen. Now another difference became obvious.

Even before we got married, if Glen and I went out to a restaurant or to some social gathering, Glen would be eyeing off other women. That should have been a warning to me, but like Lady Windermere I was young and totally enamoured of Glen. Unlike Lady Windermere and her situation, mine had not come to a happy conclusion. I wondered vaguely if Glen, despite his busty blond Cynthia, was eyeing off dark haired women with even larger busts.

John showed no inclination to review the two attractive women in the restaurant; in fact his attentiveness to me, as we ate, drank and discussed the play, was almost overwhelming. Did he still hope that I might relent and take him to my bed?

Supper over, it was time to go to our cars and drive home.

"Now all will be revealed," I thought somewhat melodramatically. I waited for John to start making his play. I waited in vain. He asked where I'd parked my car and when I told him he said, "It's getting late," – "Here it comes," I thought – "there are some pretty odd characters wandering around the city at this time of night," he went on, "so I'll see you to your car."

As we walked to Oakley Place I wondered what John would do if we were waylaid. He looked sturdy enough standing around six feet, but it was not his physical attributes that made me doubt that he would resort to strong-arm stuff, but his temperament. I decided that if it came to it I would have to kick the assailant in the shins.

We arrived at the car and I knew that this had to be the moment...well, the last possibly moment actually.

"Thanks for coming with me," he said, "it's been a great evening."

"I've loved it," I replied, quite truthfully.

"See you on Monday then."

He stepped back as I got into the car and drove away. As I left Oakley Place I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw him standing there looking after me.

I was incensed. Not even a peck on the cheek. I even thought for a moment he was going to offer to shake hands. All evening and he hadn't even touched me; had given me no chance to use my well rehearsed repelling tactics.

"What's the matter with him," I asked myself, "is there something wrong with me, or is he gay and pretending not to be? Any other guy would have...."

What perverse creatures we humans are. We tell ourselves we don't want something to happen, and when it doesn't we get disappointed. Well, it had been a lovely evening, and now to see what, if anything, was to follow.

Chapter 10. The Christmas Party.

What did follow was John joining me every lunch time. Friday evenings became our night out together; to more theatre, films and concerts. John spoke about his parents, sisters and other relatives. In response I was uncommunicative, still not wanting to reveal personal details, not even my address. When we went out together we arrived at the venue separately and John never got farther than seeing me to my car.

It was a strange relationship and I am sure the rest of the cafeteria users had me bedding John every night. That would be the first thing in the minds of people like Margaret and Pam. The earlier hilarity over my sitting with John gradually died away, and it became taken for granted.

I took it that John must feel something for me to want to take me out so regularly, but still he made no moves to try and bed me.

It was a particularly unpleasant incident that that led to a change in our relationship. Christmas was upon us, and it had been the custom for some of the organizations using the building to hold a joint Christmas party. This included Whibly's and our practice.

The party involved a considerable amount of drinking and for those who could find a vacant office, copulating. Throughout the evening John and I didn't stay together all the time, since as on such occasions people tend to wander from group to group.

I had drunk little, and didn't want to get involved in the sexual conviviality that seems to be the norm on such occasions. I don't think John drank much either, but then he was always moderate with alcohol.

At one stage I left the party to make my way down the corridor to the toilets. As I started back one of the men from the party, a guy called Clive who worked for Whibly's and who I new vaguely was standing in the corridor. As I went to pass him he grabbed hold of me.

He was very drunk, and he slurred, "Not going to miss out on a bit of loving, are you?"

"Let me go," I protested.

"Come on, don't pretend, you're gasping for it."

He pulled me close to him and I could smell his alcohol laden breath as he planted a wet kiss on my lips."

"Leave me alone," I gasped.

"Playing little miss virtuous, eh? I'm going to show you what it like having a real man instead of that wuss John."

I was wearing the suit I'd bought for my first date with John, and he started to undo the buttons of the jacket. I felt sick and frightened and started to struggle but he was too strong for me. He had got my jacket open and was getting to work on my shirt. I tried to get my knee into his groin but he had positioned himself so that I couldn't reach it.

He had me pinned against the wall and as I struggled he tore my shirt. I wasn't wearing bras so my breasts were exposed. My protest had been reasonably quiet up to that point because I didn't want the embarrassment of everybody knowing what was happening, but with my breasts exposed I was about to scream when a voice said, "Let go of Laura, Clive."

It was John.

"Clive held on to me, one hand on a breast, as he said, "And who's going to make me Raven, not you?"

I'm not sure what occurred next it happened so quickly, but Clive gave a howl of pain. He let go of me and the next thing I saw was Clive with his face pressed against the wall and John apparently only using his forefinger and thumb, as he pressed them where the neck and shoulders meet.

"Let go...let go...Clive gasped, "You're bloody well hurting me."

John released his seemingly mild grip and Clive stepped back from him, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Mr, White Knight rescuing the virgin maiden," he sneered. "What's the matter Raven, don't you like sharing her cunt?"

"Go away and sober up, Clive, John said mildly."

"I'll fucking sober up after I've fixed you Raven," Clive snarled, and swung a wild punch.

I was in no condition to take in what happened. Whatever it was, Clive gave a loud groan and went down on his knees.

"Please go away, Clive, I don't want to hurt you," John said in the same placid tone of voice.

Whatever John had done to him, Clive had had enough. He crawled away on his hands and knees for a couple of metres and then struggled to his feet and staggered away.

I was leaning against the wall trying to recover from Clive's assault. John turned his attention to me and gently covering my breasts with the torn remains of my shirt he then buttoned up my jacket.

"I think it's time for you to go home, Laura," he said quietly.

I swayed against him saying, "Hold me John...just for a minute...hold me..."

He put his arms round me and held my head against his chest.

"Did he hurt you much?"

"Not really, but it was horrible...humiliating. How did you know he...?"

"I was talking with Gwen and she had seen you leave the party and soon after Clive left. She said that Clive had been sniffing around after you all evening, and for some time he's been telling some of the guys in the office how he was going to fuck you. I thought I'd better come and see if you were okay."

I was shaking and had started to cry, so I didn't even thank him.

"Come on," he said, "I'll take you to your car."

"I haven't got my car, I came in by bus."

"I've got mine, I'll drive you home."

I was in no condition to refuse his offer, and it didn't seem to matter any more whether he knew my address or not. I didn't even know why I had not given it to him before.

I was still shaking and my legs were having difficulty in supporting me. John kept his arm round me, and without returning to the room where the party was still blazing on, he took me down to his car.

On the drive home I recovered sufficiently to ask, "What did you do to Clive?"

"Oh, nothing much really, I just used a couple of tricks I know."

"How do you know them...I mean, where did you learn them?"

"It was while I was a kid at school; I was very shy and I suppose a bit scared of the other kids. I used to get bullied a lot, so my parents decided that I lacked confidence, so dad joined me up with a martial arts class. I liked it and kept going for quite a few years. I haven't been physically bullied ever since. I didn't really hurt Clive, I just deterred him a bit."

"He won't come after you, will he, when he's sobered up?"

"I don't think so. People like Clive don't usually come back for a second time. He'll sober up and next time he sees me he'll pretend he has no memory of what happened, he was too drunk. And in case you're worried, I don't think you'll have any more trouble with him either."

We arrived at my house. John got out of the car and came round to open my door. He helped me out and asked, "Will you be all right now?"

Yes, and thank you John. Clive was right about one thing, you are my White Knight."

For the first time I kissed him softly on the lips then turned and went towards the door.

"Laura."

I turned back to face him. "Yes?"

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"I...I thought you might. Goodnight."

I fled indoors and leaning against the front door I heard him drive away. He took with him a large part of me.