The Holiday Home

28


It was the night of Henry’s twenty-eighth birthday and he was walking into the glamorous Playboy Club on London’s Park Lane. Where else would a young man want to be in 1968?

‘Want a drink, H?’ James was at the bar and shouting across the music.

‘Large Scotch,’ Henry shouted back. He stood watching the Bunny Girls as they circulated with full drinks trays, dispensing the glasses with the famous Bunny dip: a move where the girls backed towards the table and handed the drinks gracefully with a small reverse knee bend, preventing, Henry thought, their plentiful breasts from spilling out of their costumes.

The girls looked incredible. Very classy, very sexy and unlike any woman Henry had ever seen in the flesh.

‘Here you are, old man. Cheers.’ James appeared beside him. Henry took the glass and raised it. ‘To us!’ They each took a good swig. ‘How long have you been a member here?’ Henry asked.

‘Pa gave me membership when I was twenty-five. Pretty cool, eh? Ma doesn’t know. She doesn’t know Pa joined either.’ He laughed. ‘Some things are best kept secret! Fancy playing the tables?’

‘I don’t know how. And I don’t have enough cash.’

‘My treat – come on.’

In the casino room, James got them both settled at a roulette table. The croupier, another Bunny Girl, was watching as the ball bounced into number 17. Henry, fascinated, watched as she pushed a huge pile of chips to the winner and collected all the losing bets. She must have a brain like a calculator, he thought. James slapped a handful of mixed chips in front of him. ‘There’s a hundred there. Happy birthday.’

‘Thanks. What do I do?’

Following James’s example, he placed a bet: one five-pound chip on number 28, his age. It came up. The croupier Bunny smiled and pushed him his winnings. ‘Well done, sir,’ she said, giving him a radiant smile.

‘Beginner’s luck,’ James said scornfully. James ordered them each another drink and together they played the table until James ran out of money and Henry felt he might run out of luck. When he cashed the chips in, he had enough to pay James back his hundred and treat him to dinner in the club’s dining room.

It was two in the morning by the time they spilled out on to Park Lane. Standing outside was a girl in a shiny red PVC coat, short enough to reveal shapely knees and black wet-look boots. It was the croupier Bunny.

‘Hello again,’ said Henry. ‘Looking for a cab?’

‘Oh, hello.’ She smiled, her gorgeous lips framing perfect teeth. ‘Yes.’

‘Which way are you going?’ he asked.

‘West, Shepherd’s Bush.’

‘What a coincidence – I’m going that way too.’ Henry stood on James’s toe to stop him from contradicting. ‘Would you care to share a cab?’

She hesitated for a moment before replying, ‘Bunnies aren’t supposed to fraternise with customers, you know … But that would be very kind. Thank you.’

James insisted that they take the first cab and waved them off. Henry couldn’t believe his luck, having her all to himself. She told him her name was Susan Taylor, she was twenty-four and a model. The Playboy thing was a bit of fun, though it did give her a regular income.

Henry did his best to impress her, telling how he had only recently returned from America, having completed a business course at Harvard. His father had stumped up the cash, all part of grooming him to run the family firm.

‘What is the family firm?’ she asked.

‘You probably won’t have heard of it: Carew Family Board Games? To be honest, I barely scraped through my final exams. I fell in love with sailing while I was out there and instead of knuckling down to my studies I was off to Cape Cod at every opportunity, mucking about in boats.’

The taxi came to a halt. ‘This is me,’ she said, waiting for him to open the door for her. As she jumped out, she offered a pound note as her contribution to the fare. Henry refused it.

‘Absolutely not. My pleasure. Good night.’

*

A week or two later, Henry was walking along Oxford Street, heading towards Selfridges to buy his mother some perfume for her birthday, when he saw a bright-red PVC coat coming towards him. It was raining and the wearer had her head hidden by a smart umbrella. He looked at the feet and saw black wet-look boots. As they drew closer, he called, ‘Susan?’

The brolly shifted and Susan’s face was revealed.

‘Hello.’ He smiled, offering his hand.

She accepted his invitation to coffee in Selfridges café and later helped him choose his mother’s perfume. ‘Would you care to have dinner with me one night?’ he asked, holding the heavy shop door open for her.

‘I’d love to. Tomorrow is my night off. Is that too soon?’

‘Not at all,’ he beamed. They arranged to meet at an Italian restaurant on Kensington High Street.

It wasn’t long before she had moved into his rented cottage in Battersea. Henry was head over heels in love. Susan was beautiful; he never tired of looking at her. He loved to take her shopping and would buy her any outfit she wanted. When they walked down the King’s Road together, arm in arm, Henry was on cloud nine. He saw the way other men looked at her and found it hard to believe that he had found someone like her, who actually wanted him too.

The sixties may have been drawing to a close, but London was still swinging, and Henry and Susan made the most of what it had to offer. They would hit the town with James, often with a pretty girlfriend in tow, and life became one long round of parties and cocktails.

But their lifestyle took its toll on Henry’s bank balance. Eventually there was nothing for it but to bite the bullet and ask his father for more money.

‘If you are to take over the running of the family firm, then you need to exercise some restraint, Henry. Learn to economise and cut your coat according to your cloth!’ said his father sternly.

‘Does that mean you’re not going to give me a loan?’ Henry was furious. The company was doing well and he knew his father could afford it.

‘Correct.’

‘Fine. In that case, you can find someone else to take over the family firm. I only came back here for your sake – I should have stayed in New England and pursued my own dreams. In fact, I think that’s exactly what I will do. I still have friends in Cape Cod; I’ll have no problem getting a job there. To hell with you and your board games!’ Henry raged.

‘Henry, don’t be so childish!’

But it was too late. To his father’s dismay, Henry accepted an offer to skipper a yacht from Boston down to the Carolinas for the summer.

And his father wasn’t the only one who was less than happy about the arrangement. Susan was horrified when Henry told her what he’d done.

‘What about me?’ she wailed.

‘You can come with me, darling.’

‘And leave the Playboy Club? And what about my modelling?’

He put his arms round her waist and drew her to him. Closing his eyes, he buried his face in the scent of her hair and murmured, ‘I can’t live without you.’

She pulled away from him. ‘Then don’t go.’

‘But it’s all arranged. Wait till you get there – you’ll love it. And we can get you a job over there.’

‘Doing what?’

‘We’ll need a ship’s cook.’

‘I’m a dancer and a model and I have a good job at the Playboy Club. If you think I am going to spend the next six months scraping a living as a cook, cooped up in a tiny cabin, you are very much mistaken.’

Before Henry knew what was happening, the row had escalated, culminating in Susan walking out.

When she came back, two days later, she found Henry hung over and unshaven with red-rimmed eyes. He was pathetically pleased to see her.

However, when he tried to kiss her, his mouth still reeking of stale alcohol, she pushed him away.

‘I’ve come to collect my things.’

‘What?’

‘You heard.’ She walked quickly to the bedroom.

‘You can’t.’ He chased after her. ‘We’re going to America.’

‘You are. Not me.’ She pulled out a bag and started packing.

‘I won’t go, then. I’ll cancel it, forget the whole thing.’ Henry was aware of the desperation in his voice, but couldn’t help himself.

He grabbed her hand and she shook him off. ‘It’s too late. I’ve met someone else.’

Her words hit Henry like a bucket of ice-cold water.

‘In two days? Who is it? I thought you loved me.’ In a panic, he followed her to the bathroom where she was gathering up her cosmetics and potions. ‘Who is it? You must tell me.’

‘That’s none of your business, Henry. All you need to know is that we’re finished.’

And with that, she was gone.

*

Henry was devastated. Unable to turn to his father for advice, he rang James. Should he plead with her? Haunt the Playboy Club until she agreed to come back to him? Follow her and find out who this other man was?

‘No!’ said James. ‘Forget her. Go to America and wipe her from your mind. She’s not worth it.’

Two weeks after Susan had walked out, Henry stepped on a BOAC Super VC-10 jet, bound for Boston. For the next six months he would be skipper of a sixty-foot luxury yacht called The Goblin.

If he hadn’t been heartbroken, he would have enjoyed the job … and the company of some of the beautiful women on board.

It was late June by the time they returned to Boston after several weeks spent cruising around Cape Cod, Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard. Henry stepped off the boat and headed for the harbour master’s office to collect the post. There was a letter and a packet. He opened the packet first. It was a limited edition travelling set of Snakes and Ladders, a gift from his parents, with a note sending their love and hoping he’d be home soon. He smiled fondly and resolved to drop them a line.

He turned to the letter. He recognised the handwriting immediately: it was from Susan. He tore it open. She said she’d missed him and longed to be with him, if only he would still have her. She apologised with all her heart for hurting him and swore that she would never hurt him again.

Henry ran to the nearest phone and rang her straight away. Amid many tearful ‘I love you’s, he promised to send a ticket the following day.

She was coming back to him.

He was at the airport when her plane landed. The moment Susan appeared, he enveloped her in his arms.

‘I’m never going to let you go again,’ he whispered into her soft hair. ‘I love you, Susan.’

She clung to him in return and found his lips.

*

‘And this is our cabin.’ Henry opened the door with a flourish, stepping aside so she could see the tiny space with its sofa, table and shower/loo.

‘Where do we sleep?’ she said quietly, looking around.

He laughed. ‘The sofa and table turn into a double bed. Look—’ With practised ease he demonstrated how to open out the bed, and then threw himself on it.

She climbed in beside him. He hadn’t made love to anyone since losing her. And now she was back. In his arms and on his bed.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered. Then she wriggled free for a moment and, leaning over the edge of the bed, opened her vanity case. Inside were her Bunny ears. ‘A little souvenir from home,’ she giggled.

He kissed her. ‘Oh, Susan, I’ve missed you more than I thought I could miss anybody. Now put those bloody ears on and take everything else off!’

It all worked out very well and on a romantic spur-of-the-moment impulse, during a stopover in Nantucket, they stood in front of the town clerk and were married with the crew as witnesses and guests. Now she was Mrs Henry Carew.

By September they were back in Boston. One of his old Harvard friends had loaned them a one-bedroom apartment in the city, and Henry got a job teaching rich city kids how to sail dinghies. Susan was picking up a little modelling here and there. They weren’t making a fortune, but they scraped by.

Then one day Henry picked up the telephone and heard a voice from the past: James.

‘Hello, my old mate! I just blew in across the pond and fancied looking up my old mucker! How the devil are you?’

It turned out James was planning to be in Boston for a few months, maybe longer. His millionaire father had set him up with his own business as an art dealer, and he was planning to open a North American office, maybe pick up a Jackson Pollock that was being offered at auction, look up some old contacts, as well as scouting around the various galleries and visiting wealthy private clients to drum up business.

The moment James landed, the three of them hit the town. It was just like old times, as if their friendship had never been interrupted.

Susan’s birthday fell during the second month of James’s stay. Henry had arranged a surprise trip to Vermont, but as soon as they got there, Susan was very sick. The celebratory dinner had to be abandoned: she felt so ill she couldn’t eat a thing. Next morning they walked to the drug store and asked the pharmacist to recommend something for an upset stomach.

‘Is it possible you’re pregnant, ma’am?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she replied. Then, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well, ma’am, maybe you should see your doctor. In the meantime, try these.’

As soon as they had paid for the indigestion remedy and left the shop, Henry asked her: ‘Pregnant? Do you think you might be?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know.’

Henry did a small jig on the pavement. ‘That’s what it is! You’re having a baby! You’re having a baby! We’re going to be parents! Oh, I’m going to be the happiest dad in the world!’

On their return to Boston, Susan made an appointment with the doctor. Henry fidgeted restlessly in the waiting room.

‘Well? What did he say?’

‘You’re going to be a daddy.’

He hugged her. ‘When?’

‘Early June.’

‘June! We’d better start cutting back on nights out and luxuries so we can save up for—’

‘Yes. OK,’ she said wanly. ‘Excuse me, I think I’m going to be sick.’

*

‘Well done, old man!’ said James, slapping his back and handing him an expensive Cuban cigar. ‘Looks as if you’re going to be well and truly settled – wife, family and all that. Can’t say it’s for me – I’m planning on remaining footloose and fancy-free. Far too many pretty ladies needing my attention!’

Henry laughed; James relished his playboy reputation and certainly seemed to have the necessary bank balance to support the lifestyle. With a child on the way, Henry was feeling less assured about his own finances. Much as he loved sailing, his family’s welfare came first. If they returned to England, provided his father could be persuaded to welcome him back into the fold, they could look forward to a secure future. His mother would see to it that Susan and the baby had all the support they needed. Henry resolved to write to the old man, set things in motion. But just in case the answer was unfavourable, he decided to say nothing to Susan for the time being.

Within a week he had his reply.

His father rang him at the sailing school, ecstatic at the prospect of the prodigal son’s return; he even agreed to pay their plane fare home. The afternoon’s lessons had been cancelled due to bad weather, so after handing in his resignation Henry set off for home, eager to deliver the good news. He was so excited, he ran into the apartment, not even stopping to take his coat off. Sue wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room. Hearing sounds coming from the bedroom, he opened the door.

Susan had her back to him. Apart from her Bunny ears, she was naked. And she was sitting astride the similarly naked body of his best friend, James.

In that split second Henry didn’t know whether to drag his wife off the creep and smash his face in, or walk away. It was too much to take in.

‘You bastard!!’ cried Henry, lunging towards the bed.

‘Steady on, old man. Take it easy,’ said James, leaping up.

‘How long has this been going on?’ It was a struggle to force the question out – his throat was so constricted with grief it felt as if he was being strangled.

Susan, hastily pulling the covers up to hide her naked body, said nothing. It was James who answered.

‘Look, mate, I know how it looks, but you can’t blame me – she’s the one who made all the running, practically threw herself at me. I mean, what do you expect when you pick a Bunny Girl for a wife?’

‘You utter shit!’ spat Susan, her face twisted with hatred.

‘Ah, but I’m a rich shit, aren’t I?’ said James, scooping up his clothes and putting them on. ‘You’ve been after my money since the beginning. Remember when she left you, Henry, back in London? It was for me. Course, once she realised she wasn’t going to part me from my cash, she went running back to you. Only she’s not too keen on living in poky little cabins and one-bedroom apartments, having to get by on a sailor’s salary, so ever since I showed up in Boston she’s been all over me.’

Henry couldn’t speak. He felt as if it were all some terrible nightmare, that it couldn’t really be happening.

‘I’m sorry, mate,’ said James. He reached out a hand, but Henry slapped it away. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I’ve behaved like a shit. But believe me, you’re better off without this one.’ James gestured towards Susan as if she were nothing.

Henry and Susan looked at each other in silence as James walked out of the room and let himself out of the apartment. Henry felt as if his heart had been ripped out and smashed into a million pieces. Finally he spoke.

‘How could you? You’re carrying my—’ His veins turned to ice as the awful possibility hit him. Voice sinking to a barely audible whisper, he asked her, ‘Is it my baby?’

Susan shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, before turning her back on him and putting her clothes on.

‘But you … Why …’ Henry shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re despicable,’ he said, his strength returning. ‘I’m going out for an hour. When I come back, I want you and all your things gone. I never want to see or hear from you again.’

‘You can’t throw me out on to the street. Where am I supposed—’

Henry gave a mirthless laugh, ‘Oh, I’m sure a resourceful girl like you will come up with something. Perhaps your wealthy boyfriend will have you back. You’ll never get another penny from me, I swear it.’

Slamming the door behind him, Henry stormed out. He walked and walked, not knowing where he was going, until he walked into a bar, and there he stayed till the owner threw him out. He couldn’t believe that his best friend and his wife had betrayed him. Well, they could both go to hell. That gold-digging slut would never get another penny of his money as long as he lived. After the way she’d lied to him, telling him she loved him, telling him she was having his baby. He didn’t know what to believe any more; it was as if their whole marriage had been a lie.

All Henry wanted to do was to go back to England and start again. Forget about Susan and James and the whole goddamn business. When he’d sobered up, he phoned his father and told him everything. Within hours he had wired him the fare and Henry was on his way home.