Chapter 11

It was the next morning. Caroline heard her sister’s voice from the front door, “Hi, Mum! Hi, Cari!”

Caroline got up and stomped into the hallway.

“You BITCH!” she shouted.

“Huh?” was Marianne’s response, coming at the same time as her mother’s reprimand, “Caroline! Language!”

“Do you know what you’ve done?” she shouted at Marianne. “You blithely went off with your new fella, assuming Simon would just pick up with me, didn’t you!?”

Marianne was looking at her sister in shock, her mother had her hand in front of her mouth. Neither had seen Caroline in such a fury for a long, long time.

“Cari,” Marianne began, but Caroline wasn’t about to let her sister get a word in edgeways.

“Shuttup! Listen to me, for a change! Simon took me home yesterday, ignoring me for almost the whole trip back! He dropped me off outside here and told me to tell you that he’ll see you tomorrow. Now, tell me, plain and clear: Are you going to try to make up with him, or is it over?”

“It’s not that simple, Cari,”

“YES IT IS!” Caroline shouted at Marianne, before suddenly bursting into tears. 

Tina moved to place an arm around her daughter. “What’s happened, you two?” Both Marianne and Caroline began to talk at once, but Tina stopped them. “Quiet! One at a time, please. Marianne, you first.”

“We went to a party after the show. Simon and I agreed that we’d enjoy whatever opportunities came up. I saw him going off with the lead singer of one of the bands – she’s a bit of a dish – and I went with Chris, the photographer. That’s it.”

“No, that’s not all of it, is it, Marianne?” countered Caroline. “You stayed with Chris last night as well! Also, when we met at the party, you gave me the go-ahead. Didn’t you?”

“Well, yes. Kinda. But that was at the party, and last night was, was… well. It was just last night. At least, that was the plan.” Marianne looked down at her shoes. “I’m a bit embarrassed to say this, but, well, Chris and I got on really well.”

“Just sort it out with young Simon, Marianne. He deserves better than to have you stringing him along, if that’s the way this is going!” Tina told her daughter.

Marianne looked like she’d swallowed something that really didn’t agree with her. “I love Simon,” she began, then tailed off. “I’m going up to my room, to have a sleep on it. Wake me at half past eleven, please, Mum? Cari, I… I don’t know what to say. I did give you the go-ahead, as you put it, but I meant just for the party. But since then… I’ll talk to you before I see Simon. Please, give me the chance to get some sleep first?”

Caroline stood, arms folded in front of her and gave her sister a look that would have frozen the Thames. “All right. Eleven thirty, then. Marianne.”

- - - - - - - - - -

At eleven thirty precisely Caroline knocked on her sister’s door. She heard Marianne’s voice, “Cari? Come in.”

Caroline walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Her sister was sting on her bed, legs folded under her.

“I thought you were going to get an hour or two of kip?”

“I was, but I just couldn’t get to sleep. Sit down, please, Cari.” Caroline stood stubbornly in front of her sister, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Please, Cari?” Marianne asked again, almost pleading.

“Okay!” Caroline answered, and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed.

Marianne began.

“I thought about what to say for a long time, Cari. I know I could have done things better, and I’m sorry about that.

“At the party, I just went a little crazy, I guess. I’ve never had the chance to actually be at one like that, and the possibilities – well, I got carried away with the ideas, I guess. I told Simon I wanted to get high, get drunk and get laid, and strongly implied that I wanted him to do the same. And he did, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did,” Caroline answered. “If I hadn’t got to him, he says he’d probably have done some cocaine, he’d already had at least one spliff that I noticed, he’d been drinking – and yes, he’d got laid. By that guitarist woman, the blonde.”

“Hmm. Shall I tell you what happened to me, Cari? I got propositioned all over the place, but mostly by guys I didn’t want to touch me at all. I ended up hardly drinking at all for fear of my glass being tampered with. I smoked a little weed, yes – but that’s all. I got offered cocaine, and more. One guy even tried really, really hard to persuade me to give it a try. I was going to give in, but then Chris came on the scene and took over so smoothly you wouldn’t believe it. He just took my arm, chatted to me as if nothing was going on at all and steered me out of there.”

“So you thought you’d pay him back by screwing him.”

“Well, yes, at first that’s what it was. When we met you and Simon in the corridor that’s what we’d been doing. But… Chris did something. To me, I mean.”

Now Caroline’s face grew really hard.

“No, no, Cari, not like that, he didn’t hurt me, or anything. He… woke something up in me, I guess. That’s why I went with him last night, and let him bring me home. We stayed at his place last night.”

“I’d worked that out!” spat her sister.

“Cari! Calm down, please, sis. I think.. I think Chris might be The One. You know?”

For the first time, Caroline’s face cleared. “Really?” she asked, voice slightly hushed.

“Uh-huh. I felt close to Simon, but Chris… I tell you I get goose bumps at his name already.”

“Mari! You can’t be sure this quickly!”

“Well, we have known each other for months, and he has seen all of me there is to see. Well, pretty much. We don’t do ‘pink bits’ as you know. But he saw them all right last night…”

Caroline couldn’t help it, she giggled!

“So yes, it’s quick, but not really that quick. So now I have to let Simon down, I guess.” Marianne looked sad when she said this. Caroline saw that her sister really didn’t want to hurt her boyfriend – well, former boyfriend.

“Mari, in the corridor – you expected me to take Simon into that room, didn’t you?”

“Well, I hoped, but then again, I know you. I expected you to be unable to make your mind up. I rather hoped that Simon would have taken the hint, actually.”

“I think he was oblivious. That blonde –”

“Alison”

“Yeah, her, she really wore him out, I think. That’s why she was trying to get him to do the drug.

“Coke’s supposed to be good for that,” mused Marianne.

“Mari!”

“Oh, shush! Mum’ll hear you! No, I didn’t do any, I’m just left wondering what it would be like.”

“Anyhow, no, we didn’t get it on together. I think he was too shell-shocked by Allison, and really didn’t seem to want to hit a room with me – but I tell you, I made up my mind right then. I wanted him. I just couldn’t find a way of getting him into bed at the party.”

“Marianne smiled at her sister. “Did you think of just asking?”

“I thought about it, yes, but I couldn’t say the words, and then Simon wanted to get back to Aunt Jen’s place. I couldn’t find the right time to say anything. And then I did… and it didn’t go too well.” Caroline’s voice got very quiet as she finished that sentence, almost dying to a whisper.

“Oh, Cari. What happened?”

“He – he got the idea I was making a play for him while he was still going out with you. It was after the party, you see, we’d stopped off at the café on the seafront, and I started to explain… and he told me off for trying to get him while he was still going out with you.”

Marianne held her face in her hands for a moment. “I’ve really screwed this up,” Caroline heard her sob before she lifted her face again and said, “I’ll tell him, Cari. I will. I’m really sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong, it’s me.” She sat up straighter on the bed. “I’ll sort this out, Cari. You still want to go out with him, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Then I’ll let him down as gently as I can, and let him know that you’re more than interested, too. Okay?”

Caroline stood up. “Okay, Marianne.” Her sister stood up too, and they embraced before Caroline turned, gave Marianne a quick, bright smile over her shoulder, and left.

- - - - - - - - - -

Simon heard the doorbell ring, and was in the doorway of his room when his mother opened the front door and said, “Oh, hello Marianne. Lovely to see you. He’s upstairs, dear.”

“Coming!” he called and ran down the stairs. Marianne greeted him with a hug and a smile, but Simon saw that there was something wrong. He didn’t quite know how he felt, either.

“Shall we go for a walk, Simon?” she asked him. “Sure,” he replied, grabbing his coat. She turned, twining her arm in his, and they walked off.

“Friendship Path?” he asked her, and she nodded. They walked in near-silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Simon stopped, sat on the grass and pulled Marianne down to sit next to him. She sighed, looked at Simon, looked down at her feet and then away into the distance. Finally, she looked him in the eye.

“Simon, we need to talk about that party.”

“Yes, I know. We, er, we weren’t very responsible, were we?”

“Marianne gave him a tired smile. “No, not very. Well, we weren’t completely off the rails, either. As things go, what we did was very mild. But we hurt each other, and I especially hurt you, I think. So I need to tell you what happened, and you need to tell me your side, and then we can decide where we go from here.”

Simon really didn’t like the way this was sounding, but he didn’t think he really had a choice. He nodded, and told Marianne, “Okay. You going to go first?”

Marianne took a deep breath before agreeing, “Okay.”

“I railroaded you into agreeing to that as we arrived at the party, Simon. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I wanted to see how the other half partied, and in the end I chickened out, really.” She told him what she’d told Caroline earlier. “I’d been expecting to be knee-deep in rock ‘n roll types, all hair and attitude and sex, but what I found was just a bunch of overweight oafs and boring guys in suits, who were just there trying to get their end away after scoring some easy drugs.

“I didn’t want anything to do with them, really. But I was drinking, and my resolve was weakening about the drugs. I think if I’d taken more weed, or tried the cocaine, I’d have ended up as a party favour. I’m on the Pill, Simon, but some of those guys looked less than clean, okay? Not what I want!

“And then, just as I’m about to give in, Chris comes along and gets me out of there. He’s a nice guy, we know each other a bit, and… well, he’s there, and I’m grateful. One thing led to another, and then you found us in that corridor.”

“Yes, I remember,” Simon told her. “But –”

“Let me finish, please Simon, there’s more. That first fuck I let him have because I was grateful, and I was drunk, and a bit high. But… There was a spark. So I stayed with him, and went home with him. I got back to Mum’s this morning, late, had a row with Cari – well, you’ll find out later about that, I expect.”

“Huh?” Simon said, but it didn’t stop Marianne.

“Quiet. While I was with Chris… it was different from when he was the photographer, I was the model. Simon, I’m really, really sorry, but I’ve fallen for him.”

“CHRIS?”

“Please don’t get angry, Simon. Please?”

Simon jumped up. “Don’t get angry? When you say you’re sorry, but you’re not going to be my girlfriend anymore because you’ve decided to take up with an old man?”

“He’s not old! And besides, you went with the blonde!”

“Yes, but I didn’t fall for her!” Simon shouted, shoving the thought that he so nearly had way, way back into the back of his mind.

Marianne crumpled, sobbing, “I know, Simon. I’m sorry, but I did fall for Chris. I didn’t want to lie to you, so I wanted to tell you straight away. And I didn’t mean it to happen, but it did. Please don’t hate me, Simon.”

“Hate you? That’s too good for you, Marianne!” shouted Simon, storming off. He walked resolutely away down the path, hearing nothing and caring less about what was happening behind him. His anger was a live thing, burning inside him that he fed for a while, adding small pieces of hurt, of betrayal to it to keep it white-hot.

His body stiff, his back straight, Simon walked away from Marianne.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Simon? Simon! Come to the phone! It’s Marianne!”

“Tell her I’m not in!” Simon yelled to his mother, then he slammed the door shut and threw himself on his bed.

He heard a knock on his door. “What?” he snarled.

“Can I come in?” he heard his mother ask.

“Oh, okay,” he told her. She walked in and sat on his bed, while Simon watched her through sullen eyes.

“Simon Cook, I’m surprised at you! You’ve obviously had some sort of falling out with Marianne, but that’s no reason to shout at me, or to be rude to her. This, this…” she waved her hands in some indistinct gesture. “This act of yours is silly and juvenile, not like you at all! You’re a responsible young man, not a young teenager! Behave like it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Simon answered, but he did sit up and regard his mother with more respect. “I’m sorry, Mum, it’s just… I feel used.”

“By Marianne? How? Why?”

“Good questions, Mum.” He proceeded to lay out the story of the party, starting briefly with the concert, leaving out only the details, but making plain his own involvement with Alison. “I guess in that respect I’m to blame as well,” he said, “I went along with Marianne because I saw a possibility, and went for it. But Alison was, well, she was a bit false, I guess. No that’s not right,” Simon was trying to tell what happened without bringing up the drugs. “I guess she was only interested in the sex,” he told his mother, “and that just wasn’t what I wanted.”

“What happened then?” asked Jackie, quietly.

“Caroline found me, and we were just going back to the party when we bumped into Marianne. With Chris. She more or less tried to throw me to Caroline and waltzed off with the bloke.”

His mother winced.

“Yeah. But y’know, I could get over that, because of what we agreed – and I did agree – before the party started. But she stayed with him overnight, and then she blithely tells me she’s ‘fallen for him’ this afternoon. As good as gave me my marching orders, she did.”

“Did you and Caroline…”

“No. No, we didn’t. To be honest, I wasn’t in the mood even if she’d paraded in front of me, naked, with her Aunt.”

“Her Aunt?”

Simon tried to cover his slip. “Well, she looks like her nieces, just a few years older.

“Oh. Okay.” His mother gave him a shrewd look. “But Simon, if all that’s true, why would Marianne now want to talk to you?”

“Just to twist the knife, I guess,” he answered darkly. But it was a thought, wasn’t it?

“If she rings again, talk to her. If she doesn’t, well, she doesn’t. You’ll get over it, Simon. You will.” She tousled her son’s hair, then tried unsuccessfully to make it lie flat again. “Oops.”

He interposed his hand and arm, ducking out of the way. “Mum!”

But he was grinning, and Jackie decided to retire and accept the small victory. “All right, I’ll leave you alone. But think about what I said, Simon.”

Think about it he did. ‘I’ve not been terribly grown up, have I?” he mused. ‘Best thing is to make a clean break of it.” If Marianne called, he was going to tell her it was over. That was it, no more of Marianne Simmons for Simon!”

- - - - - - - - - -

But the next night, the doorbell rang, and Simon’s mother opened it. “Marianne?”

“No, it’s Caroline. Um, can I see Simon please?”

Caroline was surprised by the glare that she’d got from Simon’s mother, but it faded after she’d identified herself. She was ushered in to the house and led to the sitting room. Jackie called up to her son, “Simon? Visitor!”

After a pause Simon came into the room. “Oh. Caroline?”

“Yes, it’s me. I gather you don’t want to talk to my sister, Simon.”

“Well, no. I think it’s best we draw a line. Let’s face it, it’s over between us,” he responded, sitting next to her on the sofa.

Caroline nodded. “Okay, I’ll pass that on,” she told him in a small, quiet voice. “Or maybe you’d prefer to tell her yourself?”

“No, I think she made it clear how she felt, Caroline. I hope she’ll be happy with Chris, I really do. I liked her a lot.”

Caroline laid her head at an angle onto her shoulder. “You sure it wasn’t more than that?”

Simon was quiet for a moment. “It may have been,” he allowed, “but that’s in the past. I have to get over it.”

Caroline moved closer to him. “You don’t have to get over it alone, Simon. “I can help you.” Caroline was blushing furiously and she looked down, then away from him to hide it.

“Caroline?” she heard him say after a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean – I mean I’m not Marianne. I know it’ll be a problem because I look like her and all, but we’re different, inside. I wouldn’t hurt you like she did.”

“You want me to go out with you.”

“Yes,” she replied on a breath, turning to face him once more. “Yes.”

“So I was right, before.”

“Yes, but… But Simon, please? Give it a try, at least. Give me a try?” Caroline was determined not to cry, not to use tears as a weapon, but it was hard, so hard. Her throat was thick with emotion and her eyes stung, but she held herself together. She bit her lip, waiting for Simon to say something. She really didn’t want to beg…

“Let’s try a date. Let’s say that it’s new, that we’d not met, or at least that she hadn’t happened, We could try that, couldn’t we, Simon?”

Finally, he nodded. “Yes, we could try that, Caroline. Okay. Where shall we go?”

“Can you take me dancing tonight, please? No-one ever takes me dancing?”

Simon gave her a look that plainly said he didn’t believe her, but answered, “Fine, Caroline. We’ll go for a drink first, then dancing at ‘Sundowners’. Okay?”

“More than okay, Simon! Thank you!”

Caroline leant into him and kissed his cheek. 
- - - - - - - - - -

By unspoken assent they avoided the ‘Cross Keys’ and went to a pub that Simon hadn’t taken Marianne to. Simon bought a pint, while Caroline asked for a Southern Comfort and lemonade. He led her to a quiet table away from the bar area and they sat. They both looked at their drinks, neither able to start the conversation at first.

Simon was looking her over her, she saw. She saw his eyes track from her hair, tonight pulled up on top of her head, to her suit jacket, a smart pale grey jacket over the sheer, semi see-through blouse, and on down to her trousers, fitted closely to her body. Her red patent leather shoes matched her finger and toenail varnish. Her makeup was understated, enhancing rather than concealing. This date meant a lot to Caroline. Her sister and mother had spent a long time with her, comparing outfits, helping with her hair and makeup and building her up when her natural shyness made her threaten to pull out altogether.

The dress code for ‘Sundowners’ was what they called ‘smart casual’; T-shirts and jeans wouldn’t work, neither would running shoes or workboots. Simon was wearing a jacket and tie both in navy blue, his shirt was a paler shade while his trousers were darker. His natural blonde locks went well with it, and he’d even managed to partially tame them into semi-submission.

They sat together, neither saying anything, each taking the other in.

‘Oh, God, this is a disaster!’ worried Caroline. She forced herself to ask something, to get things going again.

“It was my old bosses’ wife that introduced me to drinking these,” she said, lifting her glass.

“Hmm? Really?” responded Simon, “Southern Comfort?”

“Yes. It was a couple of years ago, nearly. Ronnie and Kathy, his wife, took all us girls out for a drink. I think it was to celebrate them being open for ten years, something like that. Kathy bought me one of these, and I found I liked it.”

“I’ve never tried it,” Simon said, and Caroline held her glass to him. He took a sip, and gave it obvious thought. “It’s kinda sweet, but I can see how you could like it.”

“I like sweet things,” Caroline smiled. “I prefer sweet wine to dry, I prefer desserts to starters, and I love the sweet counter! I have to be careful, though, else I would pile on the weight!”

“I can’t see that you’ve had a problem with it, Caroline. You’ve a lovely figure.” For a moment Caroline thought he was going to compare her to her sister, but he didn’t.

“How about you? Are you a sweet or savoury person?” she asked after a moment.

“Oh, savoury, I think, yes, savoury. But I do like a sweet, too.  Guess I just like food!” he grinned. Caroline couldn’t get enough of that grin, it lit up his face, and he looked so handsome, she thought.

They chatted on about this and that, keeping it light, sticking to safe topics, just gently getting to know each other. Caroline was impatient, wanting to move things along much faster, but knew she couldn’t musn’t do that.

Simon was loosening up, she thought. She glanced at her wrist, where her dainty little watch told her it was already nearly ten o’clock.

Simon saw. “Oh! Sorry, Caroline. You want to go dancing, don’t you. What time is it already?”

“Nearly ten,” she told him, hopefully.

“Okay.” He glanced at her glass. He’d kept it refilled while they were in the pub, but it was empty now. “I’ll just finish this,” he told her, draining his beer, “and we can go shake a leg!”

Caroline couldn’t quite stifle the giggle at his phrasing. “What?” he asked her, a self-aware smile threatening to burst over his face.

“You!” she exclaimed, “Have you been dancing with your parents or something? ‘Shake a leg’, huh?” He laughed, a God’s-honest real laugh, for the first time that night, as he stood up. He was still laughing as he crooked his arm for her, and they left the pub on that high note.

- - - - - - - - - -

Not long after the couple arrived at ‘Sundowners’ Simon found out something he’d not noticed before:

Caroline could dance. She could really dance.

They were dancing to a fast track, some sort of generic disco music that normally would have had Simon running for cover, but he was ensorcelled by her movement and enthusiasm. This was a whole new Caroline; she would, Simon was sure, have outshone her sister had she been present too. A couple of tracks later and mercifully the DJ played a slower track, and he was able to pull her in close and talk to her without yelling.

“Wow! I never knew you could dance like that!” he told her.

“Oh! I’ve always enjoyed dancing,” she said, directly into his ear.

“It’s like seeing a whole new you,” Simon said, “like a third twin.” When Caroline laughed at him, he laughed as well when he worked out what he’d said. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“I guess so, Simon. I just feel different when I’m moving to music.”

“I wonder why you can’t feel as free when posing?” wondered Simon. He felt Caroline stiffen, realised he’d compared her to Marianne and immediately apologised, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

She relaxed again. “It’s okay, Simon. We’re twins, but we’re different. She’s better than me at some things, perhaps most things – but I can dance better than her any day of the week, and she knows it! So what if she can pose – I need music, and movement.” On saying that she pulled away from Simon, holding his arm away from him, up high, and twirled under it, returning to him in a close embrace.

They danced, and danced, and danced. Caroline had him loosening up, throwing his inhibitions away and dancing with her, enthusiastically if not with her skill and grace. She laughed with him, not at him, when he messed up, she held him close during the slower songs and dared him to keep up with her on the faster ones. The night flew by, and when they finally had to leave the club at closing time Simon couldn’t believe it.

They were outside the club, waiting for a cab, when Simon remembered something she’d said.

“You said earlier that no-one took you dancing?”

Her laugh had a bitter tone to it. “That’s right. You see, most of the men I’ve been out with have been out with Marianne before, then they meet me – the slightly awkward, shy, lesser sister, and what do they see? What do they want? They just want to get me into bed and take up where they left of with her.”

Simon stood behind her, put his arms around her and nuzzled her hair.

“None of them wanted to spend a night finding out about me, Simon. I worked that out. I’d more-or-less decided not ever to go out with one of her ex-boyfriends again, you know. But then the ex-boyfriend turned out to be you.”

She turned in his arms and looked him in the eye. “And you turned out to be more of a gentleman than all of the others, and you took me dancing. Thank you, Simon.”

Then she kissed him. He kissed her back. They never noticed the cab until he honked his horn at them.

“I’ll take you home, Caroline,” he told her.

“Your home,” whispered into his ear. He looked at her again, saw that she meant it. It wasn’t too fast – not for her, and a bit to his surprise, not for him.

He told the cabbie where to go, sat back in the seat, and asked her, “Kiss me again?”

She did.

- - - - - - - - - -