Sod's Law Pt. 02

"I've not been 'trying them out' they were just..." Then she saw the malicious grin on my face and pouted. "Oh, you!" she said and laughed.

"So when?" I asked.

"Well, I'll be decorating tomorrow and Friday, but with Christian's help tomorrow, I hope I'll finish by Friday afternoon. What about Friday evening?"

"Great!" I enthused. "Will you want to go from here, or go home first?"

"Could you pick me up from there. Seven?"

"Can do. I'll book the table for seven thirty. You do know you can stay for the evening meal each day you're here? Just put your name up."

"Will that be all right? I mean, I'm not due to take possession until July the first."

"As long as you reimburse whoever's cooking, you'll be welcome, I'm sure. They'll have put up what they paid to buy the ingredients. You divide that by the number of diners and give them the cash, or put it labelled in their pigeon hole in the hall."

She stood, ready to go. I stood also and moved toward the door. She came to me and putting her arms round my neck, kissed my lips, and I kissed back. It was a short kiss and a gentle one.

"Thanks for being so understanding," she said with her beguiling smile, her brown eyes so soft.

"Oh," I said as we emerged into the corridor. "You've missed your lift. I'll get dressed."

"Don't worry, I can walk. It's only just over half an hour's walk."

At that moment, Christian appeared at the head of the stairs from the other wing of the house.

"Hi, David," he said with a wave. I waved back.

"Ready to go?" he asked her.

"Thanks Christian, but I've already messed up your evening. I can walk."

"Nonsense," he asserted. "I'm going out anyway. I can drop you."

Christian turned and descended the stairs, while Helen turned back to me, gave me a peck on the cheek and followed. I watched her retreating form and her swaying bottom, and felt a stirring. It really was a very pretty, perfectly rounded bottom.

Perhaps she was my type after all! I was happy again: I was taking her out to dinner. I got a peck on the cheek. She turned, gave that little half-wave of hers, and disappeared down the stairs.

Next morning I sat at the kitchen table eating my muesli and sipping my tea. I felt serene, as if all was well with my world. Helen was having dinner with me next evening, had kissed me twice the night before, and had assured me implicitly and explicitly that she wanted me rather than any of the other men in the house.

Then Christian came into the kitchen. "Hey man!" was his usual greeting, and he looked extremely cheerful.

"Morning!" I responded, before taking another mouthful of breakfast. "You're very cheerful this morning."

"Well, I get to spend a day with Helen, decorating her room. Seeing a lot of her at the moment. In fact, after this coffee I'm going to collect her. I think there's something in the air."

I said nothing, but then my mouth was full of muesli, I made a noise and kept chewing to avoid having to comment. Christian took his mug out of the kitchen, leaving me wondering. Now I was reprising what passed between Helen and me the previous night.

She said she wasn't with Christian, that he was only helping her decorate, but I had the picture of the pair coming down the staircase: I could have sworn she was hugging him to her rather than making a stately 'entrance'. She had been out for a drink with him, and he just 'happened' to be available to take her home the night before. For all I knew they went for a drink and who knows what else.

I mentally slapped myself for being so paranoid.

What did I actually know about her? Very little. Yes, I'd been very taken with her. Had that blinded me to her as a person?

Perhaps she liked to play the field all the time. She said she only saw her boyfriend once a week - it wasn't that serious. She did go for a meal with Harry, and Harry did not return until after the weekend. When did Christian get back the previous night? I didn't know: I was asleep.

It could easily be that she was as free with her favours with every man she was out with. I would have to be cautious about her. I would see what would come of our dinner date the next evening.

I noted that Helen's name was up under the meat eater's list along with Christian's and the meal was to be at six, Kim being the cook. I loved her Italian dishes, which she had learned from her Italian mother, so added my name. Harry was away for a month, but Nuala would be there, though she'd noted she might be late.

When I arrived home at six that evening, I went straight to the kitchen, where I found most of the House assembled. It was then that something strange happened which I kept to myself.

Seated at the table was Helen, and next to her, and rather close, was Christian. Nuala was on Helen's other side, and facing the three of them was Kim who was dealing out a Carbonara, and next to Kim there was an empty chair. At the end of the table was Imogen, who, being alone that evening had made a vegetarian version of the same dish.

My initial reaction was annoyance and jealousy, but then looked at Helen and saw her discomfiture and worry. Then it was as if I felt her desire for me, and I immediately relaxed and was worry-free. At the same time, I saw her smile at me, and felt warm and at ease. No words had passed but it felt as if we had communicated in some subliminal way.

The meal passed with Helen narrating the progress of her decorating, and Kim explaining that she'd be absent for much of July and August abroad, working in a cafe in Köln to improve her accent and become more fluent, which prompted Nuala to declare she'd be attending the New York and Milan fashion shows in September.

Discussion followed on the latest deaths at the Berlin Wall and the unrest in Poland and Czechoslovakia. After the meal and the washing up, Helen and Christian disappeared to her room to continue their artistic endeavours, as Christian called painting a wall, much to Helen's amusement.

She had bumped against me a few times as we all sashayed round one another drying the pots and pans, and had given me a few little grins.

I went to my room feeling elated, and wondering about my feelings at the beginning of the meal. I felt it strange that I somehow knew that her feelings were for me, even though she was sitting so close to Christian. I now had no worries about her, but couldn't understand why.

I decided to go for a walk since there was daylight until after ten, and the setting sun warmly lit the trees which swayed in a gentle warm breeze. I went to the nearby extensive park and walked its paths until quite by chance (I told myself) I arrived at the Welcome Inn, and thought it churlish to pass it by. Such is the extent of human self-deception.

Well, fancy that! I happened to have my paperback novel in my jacket pocket! I entered the pub and found it relatively empty now that the university had gone down. There was no piped music which pleased me, so I bought my pint and settled in a corner to read.

"Well, lookie here!" came a cheerful female voice. "A secret drinker!"

I looked up to see Imogen and Kim standing by my table. Imogen was trying to look stern but Kim couldn't hide her grin.

I closed my book and sighed. "What are you having, girls?"

"White wine for me," said Imogen. "Please," she said as an afterthought with a giggle.

"Half of Cider, please," said Kim and the two sat down as I got up to go to the bar.

I brought the drinks back, along with a fresh pint for myself.

"Are you sure you're not stalking me?" I asked feigning innocence, to the outraged looks of the girls. I spread my hands, "Well, it's quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

"David, this is our nearest pub!" Imogen chided me. "We have been known to go out for a drink sometimes, you know? Where else would we go, it's a good pub!"

"And Helen would kill us if she thought we were after you!" gurgled Kim. "Hey, don't you think she's getting a bit too pally with Christian?"

"No comment," I said. "Can we change the subject?"

"Aren't you worried?" asked Imogen.

"For goodness' sake!" I exclaimed. "Can't you girls think about anything else? I am not worried in any way about Helen. If she wants to shack up with Christian she's welcome to."

I hoped my lie was not detected, but I was irked by there being but one topic of conversation where I was concerned.

"But we thought, you know, after last night..."

"Is there no privacy in the House? We had a chat because we missed each other twice, both times beyond our control: Sod's Law. We were telling Sod to Sod Off!

"Will you two stop pushing us together; it doesn't help. I can't understand this pairing off obsession you all seem to have, it didn't happen when any of you arrived, did it?"

This seemed to silence them and they looked thoughtful. Then Imogen made her observation.

"You're right of course. Harry tried it on with each of us of course, so did Christian, but rather half-heartedly, and he's not shown any interest in any of us since, until Helen arrived."

"It hasn't occurred to either of you that he might just be being neighbourly? He's a good man; he likes to help people. He's helped you out from time to time, hasn't he? I remember him getting out of bed to go and pick you up at about three in the morning when those gangs were fighting outside the Blue Cat Club."

"David," said Kim earnestly. "We women have a sensitivity when it comes to boy-girl relationships, and four of us agreed - yes four of us, Elsa included - there was something special, a sort of spark between you and Helen. It was as if you were already a long standing couple. That's why we don't want you to miss a chance with her, you understand?"

I smiled. I didn't believe a word about this knowledge women purportedly had, but I knew they wanted me to be happy and believed Helen was the key to that. I surrendered.

"OK, OK! If it makes you happy, Helen and I, Sod's Law permitting, are going out for dinner tomorrow evening. I'd appreciate it if you didn't make a big deal out of this, I thought since she wanted to see me twice and I wasn't there, this would make up for it."

I was rewarded by satisfied smiles from the two women; they were incorrigible.

"Nothing more than that!" I protested.

The grins grew wider and Imogen patted my hand.

"Now please, can we move on?" I begged with a sigh.

After a few more drinks we happy three returned to the House. Once inside the door, each girl kissed my cheek and patted my arm with a knowing grin. I groaned and they chuckled as they sashayed up the stairs, while I stood and enjoyed the sight, then went to the kitchen to get my cocoa.

When I arrived at my room, there was no sign of Helen or Christian, and Helen's door was shut. Were they in there, and if so, what were they getting up to? I shrugged and entered my own domain to read a little, listen to the radio and eventually go to bed. The which I did.

--

Chapter 04

Friday 24th June 1983

There was no last minute crisis at work, so I was able to arrive at Helen's door punctually, expecting her to keep me waiting in true female fashion while she finished perfecting her look.

Personally I thought she could not improve much in my eyes: I was beginning to appreciate more the quiet, restrained beauty she possessed, which in my view was as much in her character and demeanour as in her looks.

I rang the bell and after only a moment or two, the door opened and there she was. That was the moment when I realised that every woman who has conscientiously prepared herself for a date will look ten times more beautiful than her usual look. How do they know how to do that - just a touch of make-up and a hair-do? I suppose mere males will never understand.

It certainly was something to do with the minimal use of make-up, the up-do hair, the dress which hugged every contour of her lithe body, the length, halfway up (or down) her thighs, which showed her legs were perfectly in proportion and so shapely, and the high heels.

Oh, and the sparkling necklace and matching earrings which drew attention to her décolletage and her firm swelling breasts. No part of all this was excessive, everything fitted and everything balanced. The woman had taste and style. Gorgeous!

All I could say was "Wow!" which drew a delighted and delightful smile and a faint blush to her cheeks.

"I could say the same of you!" she said. "Where are we going?"

"D'you know the Orange Tree?" I asked.

"Yes, but..."

She was horrified! Everyone knew it was cheap and rough, and had a terrible reputation both for food and service. Indeed much of its fame derived from the fact it managed to attract enough customers to stay open at all, while avoiding being closed down by the health department.

"Well..." (I paused for effect), "we're going to John Dart's Place."

A gasp, then silence. It was a Michelin Star Restaurant.

"You know why I like that Restaurant?" I prodded.

"The food? The service?" she hazarded. She was impressed.

"They have a secure car park, so I can collect my car tomorrow morning! Wine can flow!"

"You're really on form tonight," she said with a hint of sarcasm and a chuckle. "Is it going to be like this all night?"

"It depends on whether you keep serving me up these feeds for my one liners."

"Please then! No more?"

"OK. Truce."

We commented on the traffic and the weather, by which time we had arrived and parked the car.

We were greeted at the door by a waiter, who we knew would have been delighted to take our coats should we have been wearing any, but as it was he had to be content with Helen's lace wrap.

Conversation occurred between courses, since we dutifully concentrated on the exquisite food. Each course was carefully described by the waiter and a suitable wine provided to complement it.

"So David," she said with a glint in her eye. "We missed each other twice. The first time you were in London and got back late - no fault of your own, but the second time you had a family crisis. Do you want to tell me about your family?"

I sighed. "Yes, I suppose you should know. First, if you will permit a little riddle? My mother is not my mother, and my brother Craig is not my brother. I also have a sister Gina who is not my sister. Explain." I stared at her, awaiting her reply.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but I continued to stare at her blandly, as if my strange family situation was a common enough one and really needed no further elucidation. Mind you, she was worth staring at in thoughtful mode for the pleasure it brought alone!

"OK," she sighed at length. "I give up. Tell me more about your family that isn't your family."

"Oh, they are my family," I said. "They're just not related to me."

"David, stop it!" she said sharply. "You said 'truce' earlier!"

"Helen," I said patiently. "Come on! Work it out! How can Brenda Collins be my mother, and yet be no relation to me?"

Helen looked thoughtful. Then her eyes lit up. "Your name is Evans! So she must be your step-mother and they are her children!"

"Nope! But closer."

Helen thought some more. Then a smile of success.

"She adopted you!"

"Not quite, because then I would be David Collins, but you're getting warmer!"

Helen's eyes flashed. "She's your foster mother! Your brother and sister are also fostered - or are they her natural children?"

"Well done!" I was genuinely impressed. "Craig and Gina have been with Brenda long-term like me.

"Craig has always had a temper and been in fights, though he's always been nice enough at home. Nowadays it's when he's drunk. This time some bloke felt up Deborah, Craig's girlfriend, which technically was a sexual assault, and Craig got into a fight with him, broke his nose and cracked two ribs.

"I went home to represent him in the Magistrates' Court and try to stop him being committed for trial at the Crown Court in view of his previous convictions. He would have gone to gaol."

"How did it go?"

"Community Service Order, conditional on getting anger management classes."

"Wow! That really was a good result, wasn't it?"

I basked in her admiration. "Oh, yes. The prospect of Crown Court frightened him badly, so perhaps there's a chance for him. He is quietening down."

"So, Brenda, your Mum who's not your Mum?"

"As you correctly deduced, Brenda is my foster-mother. She's a heroine! She's fostered forty-odd children since she started (most of us are odd)! Her marriage broke up because she couldn't have children herself, and she so wanted to be a mother. Back then as a single woman she couldn't adopt a child, but she could foster. As a foster-parent she gets paid for each child she takes on for as long as they are in her care or until they're sixteen."

"Forty! How does she fit everyone in?"

I laughed. "Not all at once! Most children are with her only a short time, overnight, days, weeks or months, some for as long as a year or two before they get adopted or go back to their real parents. I was different."

"How so?"

"I only know what Mum told me. She took me on when I was five. I don't remember much before that. I've a vague memory of being frightened, then being in a children's home and getting slapped around by some big kid, and I think I was in a foster home for a short time. I have an impression it was a cold house and rather dark. Then I was back in a children's home again.

"Anyway, Mum tells me I was very solemn and did not smile for over a year after she took me, nor indeed did I say very much. After that I thawed out a little but was afraid of visitors, afraid they'd take me away, so I would behave badly and scowl, she said. No one wanted to adopt me, which is exactly what I wanted. She laughs about it now.

"So I stayed with Mum for the rest of my childhood. Technically I left her care when I was eighteen because I was in full time education, otherwise she would not have got any money for me once I was sixteen, but I got a full grant and living allowance while at university, and could send her some money out of that.

"So now I'm her grown-up child, as is Craig and Gina. They are the only other full-term foster children. Craig and I have left home, and Gina is in her last year at school."

"I'll bet your Mum's proud of you," said Helen wistfully.

"I'm proud of her! She's the most selfless person I know. Foster children are usually disturbed to some extent, as I was early on, even until I was in my early teens, and life can get violent. She seems to have the knack of calming children down - she's had enough experience!

"She was very keen on our education. I remember her reading to me, though I don't know how she found the time. I remember she would send me to the library every week. I was an avid reader, and loved school. She had a room set aside for doing homework and I used to escape there when life in the house got noisy."

"So you did a law degree and got a First."

"Yes. Enough about me, what about you? You come from Yorkshire?"

"My parents have lived in or near York since they were married. I grew up there, but it seems we have almost got something in common." She smiled.

"Almost? I don't follow."

"When I was sixteen, Mum and Dad sat me down and told me they had adopted me as a baby. Apparently I was only a few weeks old. It came as a shock and I think I ran out of the room to my bedroom. My dad came after me and knocked at my door. I told him to leave me alone for a bit.

"I thought about it, and realised that they loved me just as much as if I'd been born to them, indeed they'd chosen me! So I went down and told them that they were and would always be my real parents, and that I didn't want to hear anything more about the matter.

"So you see, we both have adoptive parents. I mean your mother has essentially adopted you, hasn't she?"