9
Bullets to the Soul
Laura was so unbearably happy she thought she might burst with it! She could barely remember any of the film. She was wrapped in a tight bubble of nervous excitement enflamed by his nearness, the contact of his arm around her shoulder, the smell of his aftershave, the heat of his breath as he leant close to her cheek to whisper something about the film. And afterwards, when the lights went up, she didn’t rush immediately to the exit; they stayed behind as people filed by on the stairs and she was so proud to be with Casper that she actually wanted people to see her with him; she needed them to see that he belonged to her.
They hung back, long after the last of the cinemagoers had left, then they wandered out of the cinema hand in hand as if they’d all the time in the world. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Before they reached his car he stopped her and gave her a light peck on the lips.
‘I can’t believe we are here together like this,’ she said. ‘I am the luckiest woman alive. I feel like I am on cloud nine!’
Casper Younge laughed lightly. ‘Whatever tablets you are on, Laura, I’ll have some too!’
Her face clouded over. ‘What do you mean, tablets?’ she asked.
He was immediately aware that he’d unintentionally hit some kind of raw nerve. ‘Why, nothing was meant by it, Laura. It’s just a figure of speech, that’s all. Have I upset you?’
‘No!’ she said suddenly, forcing a smile. ‘How could you upset me on a night like this? It’s so beautiful, so perfect. Just like you.’
‘Steady on there, Laura; such things can go to a man’s head!’
‘Well you are,’ she said. ‘So loving, so attentive, so handsome too. I keep asking myself, why me? Like it’s all a delightful dream that will melt away in the morning. These last couple of months with you have been the most happiest in my life.’
Casper drew her away from the car. ‘Shall we take a walk in the park? It’s a lovely evening and there’s something I’d like to ask you.’
She didn’t need persuading. The park was all but empty, the smell of cut grass and roses in the flowerbeds hung heavy in the still air. He bade her sit down on a park bench and they sat in exquisite silence for a minute or two.
‘You are very quiet,’ she said.
‘I’m thinking,’ he returned.
‘Thinking about something nice, I hope. What was it you wanted to ask me?’
‘Why won’t you let me into your house? Don’t you trust me, Laura?’ His face was serious, almost a look of hurt there.
She clasped his arm. ‘Yes I do! I trust you like no other!’
‘But not enough to be invited into your home, it appears.’
‘It’s not like that, Casper. There hasn’t been a man in Devereux Towers since my father died.’
‘So I do not come up to the high standards set by your father, is that it?’
‘No, no! Not That! It’s just … well; it’s just how it is. I’m very particular about who I let into my house.’
‘Are you saying I am not special to you?’ His eyes looked moist with upset. ‘I thought…’
‘Please, Casper, let’s not spoil a beautiful night. Of course you are special to me. Very, very special.’
‘Do you love me?’ he asked quietly, earnestly.
She sighed, turned her head away. ‘I suppose I must,’ she said.
‘Only suppose?’
‘Yes, I do!’ she blurted. ‘I do love you. With all my being I love you.’
He smiled warmly at her. ‘In that case,’ he said, getting off the bench and going down onto one knee, ‘Laura Leach, will you marry me?’
He produced a red velvet box as if by magic, flipped it open. A gold ring with a large diamond in its centre flashed in the lamplight.
‘Oh, Casper! You can’t mean it!’
‘I most certainly do. Most definitely I mean it.’ She began to cry. ‘Oh dear, it’s not that bad, is it? I mean, we can always take it back to the jewellers and change it for something else.’
‘It’s perfect,’ she sobbed. ‘Do you mean it, really mean it? You’re not simply pulling my leg?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Blooming expensive joke!’ he said. ‘I told you I mean every word. Laura Leach, you still haven’t answered my question: will you marry me?’
‘It’s only been a couple of months…’ she said. ‘It’s too fast.’ He took the ring out of the box, grasped her hand and gently slid the ring onto her finger. ‘It fits!’ she said, staring at it.
‘Not a bad guess, eh?’ he said, grinning. ‘So it’s fast – like I say, I’m an impetuous kind of fellow. But I know instinctively when something feels right and this feels just right. Do you think you could make your mind up one way or another; my knee is beginning to hurt.’
‘Yes!’ she said. ‘I will marry you!’
‘Wonderful!’ he said, squeezing her fingers tight and getting up. He leant forward and kissed her, but she looked very agitated again. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘She pulled her hand away from his. ‘You might not want to marry me when I tell you…’ She fell into silence.
‘Tell me what?’
‘There are things about me you don’t know.’
‘I know all I need to know, Laura. Nothing you can say can be so bad it will stop me marrying you.’ He clasped her hand again. ‘You can tell me, if you wish, in your own sweet time. But let’s just enjoy tonight.’
She nodded, her face sullen. ‘And I cannot…’ She struggled to find the words. ‘I cannot…’
‘You cannot what?’
‘I cannot sleep with you till after we are married,’ she said in a rush. ‘There, you will not want to marry me now,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘You will think me strange. But that is who I am, because of what has happened to me and I can’t do anything about that, can I?’
His arm wrapped around her waist and he eased her down to the bench again. ‘That sort of thing doesn’t matter to me one jot,’ he assured her. ‘And I really don’t care about what happened in the past. I love the present Laura. We’ll take things one step at a time’
‘Really? You are not annoyed or disappointed in me?’
‘What a thing to say! What kind of a man do you take me for?’
‘Please don’t let this be a cruel joke,’ she said, her eyes filling again. ‘If I find you are not being serious I will die. I could not take the heartache it would bring.’
‘You have my word. I love you, Laura.’
‘And I love you too,’ she said. ‘So much it hurts me inside.’
They sat holding each other tightly, in profound silence, listening to the distant sound of cars humming on tarmac. ‘Perhaps now you might let me into your home,’ he said in a whisper, stroking her hair tenderly.
‘Perhaps I will,’ she said, her voice muffled by his jacket. She was staring at the ring on her finger, hardly daring to believe it was true.
Casper Younge smiled. ‘That’s good,’ he said.
He felt as if someone had taken a spoon and scooped out his insides, slowly, painfully, and then left him to die a lingering, miserable death. Heartache wasn’t heartache at all; it was a vile torture endured by the entire body and he didn’t like how it felt one little bit. He’d never experienced anything quite like this before. Vince Moody had suffered misery in his time, but these were dark new depths he was sinking into where the immense pressure was about to crush him.
He didn’t deny she deserved to be happy, just as he was destined always to be miserable and lonely, a fact given additional weight on seeing the happy couple together. Now the name that used to give him such pleasure inspired only agony every time it fired through his mind. Laura, Laura, Laura. Like bullets to the soul.
Vince switched on his Ever Ready bicycle lights and began to pedal away from the cinema yard. He’d taken his time locking up because there was nothing to rush for. Life had ceased to matter. He pedalled down the main street, heading home, and then he saw them – Laura and her new man-friend. They were strolling arm in arm along the pavement, she with her head resting snugly against his shoulder. He averted his gaze; felt embarrassed even though Laura didn’t know who he was, had probably never even looked in his direction. He was all but invisible to the couple so lost in their romantic rapture.
As he drew level with them they paused by a car that was parked at the side of the road, the man unlocking the door to get in. Vince’s insides got all screwed up when he saw him kiss Laura. But some way past them he brought his cycle to a halt and turned round to look at the car.
It was a white Ford Cortina. He was certain it was the very same car he’d seen that day a while ago in the field near Devereux Towers. The day he saw the man leaving his white Ford Cortina to study the old building through a pair of binoculars.
The car drove off and he was left battling a number of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He was upset, that’s all. There were millions of white Ford Cortinas on the road.
But there was only one Laura Leach and now she’d been snatched away from him by another. Faint heart never won fair lady, he pondered bleakly. Why couldn’t he have plucked up the courage to talk to her? Yet he never had the chance, did he? No, that’s not true; he could have made the chance. That was just an excuse. His entire life was one big excuse, he thought, feeling doubly sorry for himself.
The sight of his cold, lonely home didn’t make him feel any better either. So he carried on pedalling around the streets till exhaustion finally forced him inside. He went to bed without eating. He felt he would never be able to eat again. What was the point?
* * * *