A Week in Winter(99)

‘Don’t ask. I’ll tell you when we are well out of range. Let’s go. You and I are free agents, nobody waiting for us; we don’t have to be anywhere except where we want to be.’

‘I have to be back. I open the library tomorrow, and I have to be in before eight.’

He smiled back. ‘Right. We’ll go for a meal, and no talk about work for either of us – is that a deal?’

‘It’s a deal,’ Freda said.

In the car they were quiet; Freda studied his face but Mark looked relaxed and happy. Freda began to feel that it had just been a mad dream. As he helped her out of the car, he kissed her, and all through dinner she could think of nothing else.

That night, they made love for the first time.

The following night, they went to the cinema. Freda didn’t even remember the film afterwards, just the sensation of sitting with her shoulder touching his. Later they went back to her flat.

On Friday he asked her to go to a concert but she had set up the meeting with Joe Duggan, the computer expert, and she hesitated. Mark’s face clouded over and he looked so disappointed, she knew she had to do something.

She called Lane.

‘I will do anything for you for the rest of my life. Anything. Scrub floors in your theatre . . .’

‘Who do I have to kill?’ Lane asked.

‘No, it’s this guy, Joe Duggan, who’s going to give the talk next week. I can’t meet him tonight at the library. Could you do it, tell him everything?’

‘Freda. No.’

‘I’m begging you on my knees.’

‘I can’t, I run a theatre. You’re the librarian.’

‘It’s only an old talk; you know the kind of thing they want.’

There was a silence.

‘Lane?’

‘It’s not like you, and it’s not only an old talk. It’s something you set up, and a lot of people are depending on you.’

‘Never again, just this once! I’ll tell Joe that I’ll contact him on Monday morning.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘I don’t know what I’ll do.’ There was a catch in Freda’s voice.

‘I think this is the shabbiest thing I have ever heard,’ Lane said.

‘But you’ll do it.’

‘Yes.’

‘Thank you, Lane, from the bottom of my heart . . .’ Freda began.

‘Goodbye, Freda.’

Freda called Mark.

‘Well?’ he asked.

‘I’m free this evening,’ she said.

‘I was so hoping you might be,’ Mark said.

The concert was heaven and at dinner afterwards, he told her that there was no one like her. He said how much he admired her work, and even gave her some ideas for a Friends night; he wanted to spend all his time with her, and make up for lost time. She couldn’t help herself: he was so sweet and caring, and she melted at his touch.

It was too sudden, too quick, she told herself. But then everyone had to meet somewhere and somehow. Would it have been any different if they had met at a dance, a club, in a crowded bar? But still she was nervous about letting herself go with the tide. But whenever he called, or they were together, she forgot all about her misgivings.

The Friends of the Library welcome all those who don’t know a thing about computers but want to learn. Joe Duggan will be here on Friday night to help all ages who want to be part of the tech world.

When Mark suggested they go away for a weekend, she hesitated once again. He couldn’t go away with her if he was married, it wouldn’t be possible. But the dreams kept coming. The face of the woman with the short blonde hair would not go away. She just knew it was Mark the woman was welcoming, and she could see the wedding ring in the dream.

If he were married, what would he be telling his wife as he headed off to the Dublin mountains with Freda? Freda was very confused. But she wasn’t about to give up the chance of such happiness.

When she called Lane to cover for her again with Joe, Lane didn’t have much to say. She listened to her friend and then agreed.

‘For Joe’s sake, not yours,’ she added icily.

Freda felt bad for her friend, but then thought about her weekend with Mark. Mark needed Freda on many levels, that was obvious. He wanted her for company, for friendship and for support as well as for sex. He loved her; he told her so. The marriage could only be one of convenience, she was so sure of that.

Eva hoped that this romance would settle down soon so that Freda could concentrate on other things apart from Mark Malone. She did seem besotted with the fellow and in a way, Eva could understand why. He was such a charmer, such an enthusiast. In many ways very suited to Freda. But Eva thought they were also very different. Mark was tougher, and he was going to get there, wherever it was, taking no prisoners. Freda was happy with life the way it was now.

He had got off on the wrong foot with Lane, but that would sort itself out in time. Lane had taken against Mark in a big way; she complained that Freda had lost interest in everything – her work, her friends, her whole life. ‘It’s as if a sort of mist or fog or something settled on her,’ she had said. ‘He controls her every move.’

They’d met him a number of times now but Lane still didn’t trust Mark.

Silly, foolish Agony Aunt, Eva told herself. Useless trying to work these things out logically, rationally. Still, it was a worry, all right. There was a possible storm gathering. Lane didn’t like him and didn’t trust him. He was the first man who had threatened such a solid friendship. Usually they encouraged each other about boyfriends and gave enthusiastic, supportive advice.