Buying the Virgin novel Chapter 72

As Beth and I enjoy our High Tea, a couple of men roll in the door, clearly the worse for wear for drinking. We ignore them, but one suddenly points to me and Beth. “Hey, look at them. Must be sisters.”

Beth looks uncomfortable, turning away. The two don’t take the hint. “Hello, ladies. Mind if we join you?”

Leaning back from the boozy breath blowing my way, “Actually, we do mind. These seats are taken. We’re waiting for our husbands.”

Beth glances at me, questioning my white lie with a look. I widen my eyes at her. There are times we have to do these things.

The louts take no notice. “Pair of lookers like you. Shouldn’t be sitting by yourselves like this.” One of them starts to paw at Beth. She says nothing, but looks upset and pulls away.

Why doesn’t she tell him to leave her alone?

But she doesn’t. The lout starts stroking her arm. Shrinking from him, she stares at the floor. “Leave her alone,” I say, “her husband won’t like it.”

He ignores me, continuing to rub his fingers up and down the immaculate chiffon of Beth’s blouse.

“Leave her alone,” I hiss. “Get your grubby paws off her.”

“Who’s gonna make me? You?” he sneers. “Anyway, Tommy here fancies you.”

As he speaks, the yahoo next to me makes a bid for a feel, but I jab sideways, hard, with my elbow into his ribs. He grunts. “You little bitch…” he roars, and turns to make a grab at me.

At the same moment, the other one makes a lunge for Beth. I stand and, over the table, punch for his face. I catch him squarely and, with coffee pot, scones and cream scattering in all directions, uproar breaks out….

*****

Beth and I sit together in the cell, holding hands. Being in here is not pleasant, and we are sitting as far away as we can from two teenage girls who are semi-conscious on some form of drug, and another one who is high on something else.

There is the rattle of keys, and a guard unlocks the door.

“You and you,” he says, jabbing a finger at me and Beth, as he holds the door open.

Out in the office are Richard, my Master, and Ross.

Haswell is incandescent. “Ross, please accompany my wife back to the car if you would. Take her straight home.” The look he gives me is one of pure fury.

My Master looks down at me “What the hell happened, Charlotte?” he mutters at me as we follow the enraged Haswell out of the building. But I don’t get a chance to reply as Haswell points a finger at a car parked up nearby. “In the back,” he barks at me.

The drive is silent. Back in the building, he marches me up to his office, pointing me to stand in front of his desk. He sits but does not invite me to do so.

Jabbing a finger towards me, “You may feel that you can break all the conventional rules, Ms Conners, but when I am obliged to bail my wife out of the city jail because of your behaviour….”

“Sir, I….”

“Did I invite you to speak?”

I bite my lip, hanging my head. “I am informed,” he continues, “that you assaulted a customer in the coffee room. The hospital reports a broken nose and contusions….”

The door bursts open. Beth is there.

“Elizabeth… I told you to go straight home. Where’s Ross...?”

“Ross tells me you are holding Charlotte to blame for what happened. I told him to bring me here.”

“Ross takes his orders from me.”

“Not on this occasion, while you have Charlotte standing there like that.”

“I was requiring an explanation of her.”

“The explanation, if you bothered to ask politely, is that two thugs were trying to molest me, and Charlotte put up a fight on my behalf.”

My Master looks at me. “Charlotte, you didn’t….”