Read Games Lovers Play Online

Authors: June Tate

Games Lovers Play (4 page)

Three

The following day at work, Connie kept looking for John doing his rounds, but when she didn't see him, she casually asked another assistant where he was.

‘Oh, he's on holiday for a week,' she told her. ‘He said something about going to Devon as his little girl loves playing on the beach there.'

She was shattered. He'd made no mention of a holiday during the time they'd spent together. Now he'd be acting the faithful husband after sharing a bed with her! How could he do such a thing?

‘You all right, Connie?' asked Betty as she walked back to the counter. ‘You look a little pale.'

‘I'm fine,' she answered. But she felt humiliated.

In the workshop of the racing team called the Cheetahs, three men were in a huddle, drinking tea and smoking. There was an air of secrecy about them as they spoke.

‘So what
exactly
did you see?' asked one.

The man whose motorcycle helmet rested at his feet said, ‘Not much to be honest. As soon as I stopped I saw the three of them and some girl sitting staring out of the door at me. If I'd lingered, they would have come out and asked me what I wanted. They didn't recognize me, fortunately, as I had my visor down.'

‘We need to get in somehow and take a good look at the car. Sam Knight is a bloody clever mechanic; he'll know how much he can get out of a souped-up engine. He's a bloody genius when it comes to cars.'

‘And behind the wheel,' added another.

‘Well, he's not going to bloody well beat me!' snapped Jake Barton, the team driver. ‘I'll use whatever means I have to stop him standing on the winner's podium. That's
my
place!'

The other two looked at each other and grimaced. Jake was a sore loser, and Sam Knight was his Achilles heel. Jake was jealous of the other man's success, which he wrongly believed should be his alone. He was a good driver but he was wild and let anger rule his head when driving, which had led to him receiving several warnings during his racing career. The rest of the team worried that this battle with Sam would end up with Jake being banned from racing altogether, and then what would they do?

‘Forget about Sam,' one said. ‘We have a good car, and if you drive well, you won't have a problem at all.'

Jake flew into a rage. ‘What do you mean
if
I drive well? Are you saying I'm a bad driver?'

‘For Christ's sake keep your hair on, will you,' said his teammate. ‘All I'm saying is if you were to concentrate more on your own car and driving, instead of this insane obsession with Knight, you'd do much better!'

Jake was on his feet in seconds, and before his teammate knew it, Jake had floored him with a punch, then walked out of the garage cursing loudly.

The second man helped his friend to his feet.

Holding his jaw, the victim swore. ‘Fucking madman! I'm in two minds to walk away from him and the racing.'

His friend walked over to the sink and ran the cold tap on a cloth, then, after wringing it out, he handed it over. ‘Here, put this on your jaw, it'll help with the swelling.'

‘One day I'll do for that bastard!' the injured one said. ‘I'm sick to death of hearing how good Jake thinks he is and how he should be a winner. Let's be honest, he's no match for Knight, no one is. The man's a genius on the track. He has talent and is a born winner. It's only a matter of luck if he gets a bump that takes him out on the track and enables someone else to take first place. You know it and I know it; unfortunately, Jake won't accept that fact. Well, sod him! I'm off to the pub for a pint, want to join me?'

They locked up the garage and left.

Connie's mood was lifted when she returned home to find that Sam had written her a letter:

Dear Connie,

I am so sorry to have neglected you this week, but as you know I've been working away. I've missed you, lovely Connie, and to make up for it I'd like to take you out for the day on Sunday. I'll pick you up at eleven in the morning. If this doesn't suit you, leave a message at the garage.

PS. Wear a pair of trousers and a coat and bring a swimsuit and towel.

Lots of love,

Sam xxxx

Connie danced around the room, thrilled to read that he'd missed her, and she couldn't wait to see him.

‘You're looking pleased with yourself,' Madge, her grandmother, remarked in her usual sour tone. ‘From that boy, is it?'

Connie just raised her eyebrows and tapped her finger on the side of her nose, and left the room.

‘Cheeky little bugger!' Madge raged.

‘For goodness' sake, what is it now, Mother?' Dorothy Morgan emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth.

‘Your daughter, that's what! She doesn't have an atom of respect for her elders.'

‘Perhaps if her elders stopped trying to pry into her affairs, she'd feel differently!'

‘Don't you talk to me like that, madam, just remember who I am.'

Dorothy was at the end of her tether. Her mother-in-law had been difficult all day, and she'd had enough. ‘As if I could forget! You remind me at least once a day. Now you think on as to who
I
am. I am married to your son and you live in
my
house. I cook for you, do your washing and ironing, clean up behind you, none of which is appreciated, and then you try to make my daughter's life hell as well!'

For once Madge was speechless.

‘And what's more, I've just had about enough of you and your moaning interfering ways! Much more of it and I'll be asking your own daughter to house you. You know, the one that hardly ever comes to see you!' She strode out of the room.

The old vixen was deeply shaken by her daughter-in-law's words, and she sat quietly thinking about the tirade that had just been delivered. She knew she was lucky when George, her son, had taken her to live with him and his family, after her husband's death. She had been so relieved because she honestly didn't think she could have coped on her own – not that she had admitted such a thing. She also guessed that Dorothy couldn't have been too happy about the arrangement though. What woman would be? It certainly wasn't an ideal situation. She had to admit she'd been well looked after and she hardly had to lift a finger herself. In fact she'd never offered. But she certainly didn't want to leave and live with Eve, her daughter who'd never had time for her. In fact, if push came to shove, she doubted if Eve would have her! She slowly sipped her now tepid cup of tea. She'd better pull her horns in for a bit, she decided.

On Sunday morning, at eleven o'clock sharp, Connie heard the roar of an engine outside and rushed to the door, calling goodbye over her shoulder. Once outside she realized why Sam had stipulated her wearing trousers. He was sitting astride a large motorbike. He grinned at her and handed her a helmet to wear. Then he instructed her how to sit on the back of the bike.

‘Put your arms around my waist,' he told her. ‘That way you won't interfere with my driving. You need to relax, and when we corner, lean with me. OK?'

‘You won't go too fast, will you?' she asked nervously.

Chuckling, he said, ‘Don't worry, Connie. Do as I ask and you'll be perfectly safe. Ready?'

She nodded and tensed as he moved away slowly.

‘Relax,' he called over his shoulder.

He drove the bike out around the streets to let her get the feel of being a pillion passenger until he felt her begin to relax, and then he slowly increased his speed. As they left the town and headed for the country, she felt exhilarated. Sam's body sheltered her from the wind and she leaned against his back. As they cornered, she leaned with him and the bike until she felt at one with him and his machine. They turned off the main road and she read the sign – Hillhead – and then she knew why she would need a swimsuit as they headed down the road leading to the beach.

Sam parked the bike and helped her off the back. Her legs felt stiff, and she staggered against him. He caught hold of her and laughed. ‘You'll soon get used to it,' he said. ‘Can you swim?'

‘Yes, I love swimming.'

‘Good, that'll help loosen those muscles.' He opened the panniers of the bike and took out a towel and packed sandwiches, plus a couple of bottles of lemonade. ‘Come on,' he said and led her to a spot among the sand dunes.

It was a warm balmy day and they took off their coats and undressed beneath their towels, before heading for the water, running down the sand and both plunging into the waves.

Sam was a strong swimmer, she discovered, but he made sure she could keep up with him, never pushing her beyond her limits. They cavorted in the water, splashing each other before eventually returning to their place in the dunes. Sam rubbed her down with her towel, before insisting he cover her with sun oil.

‘I can't have you getting burnt,' he insisted.

Not that Connie minded, feeling his strong hands on her back, arms and legs. Then he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. ‘I've been wanting to do that since you stepped out of your house,' he said. ‘I've missed you, lovely Connie.'

She kissed him back. ‘I've missed you too.'

‘Come on, let's eat,' he said, ‘I'm starving!'

They tucked into the sandwiches and some fruit he'd packed, then lay back enjoying the warmth of the sun as it dried them.

Sam told her of the car he'd been working on and about a forthcoming race, then he asked her what she'd been doing.

‘Nothing exciting,' she lied. ‘Just work.'

He gathered her into his arms. ‘Well, I'm back now and I don't think I'm away again for some time. ‘He pulled her closer. ‘I've got a week to make up for.'

Connie was pleased they'd found a quiet place not overlooked by others as his kisses became more fervent and his caresses more intimate. But there was a tenderness about him as he touched her, as if she was someone to be cherished and nurtured. There was a limit to his caresses, making sure he had her approval.

As for Connie, her body cried out for him, but she couldn't let him know in case it spoiled his illusion of her. She felt she would have disappointed him.

He caressed her cheek and stared deep into her eyes. ‘Oh, Connie, if only you were a little older.'

‘What on earth do you mean?' she asked.

‘I so want to make love to you, but I have to respect your innocence.'

What was she to do? She longed for him with an ache that was unbearable, but he thought of her as untouched. She gazed back at him. ‘Someone has to teach me how to be a woman,' she said softly.

He chuckled and said, ‘This is true, sweetheart, and it would be my pleasure, but let's not rush things. We have plenty of time to get to know one another. Come on, let's go for a swim. I think it'll do us both good under the circumstances.'

Feeling totally frustrated, she followed him down to the water and plunged in. At least he'd called her sweetheart, and that was something.

On the way home, they stopped off at a restaurant in Lyndhurst for a meal, and whilst they ate Sam told her a little more about tourist car racing, of his dreams of becoming a racing driver as a profession as well as owning his own business, dealing strictly with racing cars, and she realized just how deeply he cared about this world of which she knew nothing.

‘But isn't it dangerous?' she asked with a worried frown.

‘Yes, I won't lie to you. It isn't the safest of occupations, but I could be run over by a car in Southampton's High Street,' he proclaimed. ‘I'm good at what I do, Connie. I get behind a wheel of a car and I'm focused on the race ahead. It's not something you can do lightly.' He paused. ‘Do you think you can understand how I feel about racing? Because if you're going to be my girl, you have to take me warts and all.' He took her hand in his. ‘Well?'

‘Whatever you did, Sam, I would still want to be with you.' She squeezed his hand.

He beamed at her. ‘That's wonderful! But I have to warn you, when there is a race looming I have to spend a great deal of time working on the car, which means if you want to be with me you'll have to spend a lot of hours hanging around the garage. It's a lot to ask of a girl.'

‘Not if she really likes you.'

‘I'm so glad you said that. Come on, let's get the bill and we had better get you home. How about taking in a film tomorrow night? It helps me relax after a hard day, and at least I get to hold you in the dark.'

‘That would be lovely,' she agreed.

Outside her house, Sam took her into his arms and kissed her. ‘We are going to have some exciting times together, lovely Connie. I'll meet you outside the cinema at six thirty tomorrow.' He put his finger under her chin and tipped her face upwards. ‘And if some other man comes on to you, tell him you are already spoken for. Right?'

‘Right!' she said and kissed him.

She watched him drive away and went inside, smiling to herself.

‘Have a good time?' asked her mother. Her father peered over his paper at her, waiting for her answer.

Lovely!' she said. ‘We went to Hillhead and had a picnic then swam. On the way home we stopped for a meal.'

George Morgan spoke. ‘Someone was telling me in the pub about your boyfriend,' he said. ‘Seems he's a good driver and a bit of a star on the racing track.'

Connie was delighted. ‘Really?'

‘Yes, seems he's got a future there. I hope he doesn't drive fast when he takes you out, Connie?'

‘No need to worry, Dad, he takes good care of me. He's a safe driver on the roads, I promise.'

Her father disappeared behind his paper.

Connie glanced across at her grandmother, waiting for her usual comment, but to her surprise the old woman remained silent.

Four

When Connie arrived at work the following day, she knew that John Baker would have returned from his holiday. She was still furious that her lover had made no reference to going away during their weekend in Bournemouth, and she was anxious that now he'd slept with her he'd ignore her, which would make her feel cheap and used. But she still maintained a modicum of pride and steeled herself as she saw him walking towards the counter, looking as dapper as ever, but with a tan, which only added to his attraction.

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