Steps
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2010 by Kaffir

Sure enough the telephone rang shortly after three. Rupert answered it.

"Hello?"

"Rupert?"

"Yes."

"How are you?"

"Well, thank you, Marty."

"May I speak to Samantha please?"

"Wait a minute, please." He put the telephone down. Samantha was already coming. He held up his hand and put a finger to his lips. He gave a thumbs up sign with a questioning look. She nodded. He smiled at her and ostentatiously took a deep breath. She smiled back and copied him. She picked up the telephone.

"Hello, Marty." Her voice was not cold like Rupert's had been but it held no warmth. It might have been a business call.

"Sammy, my love, why are you doing this?"

"Obvious, I'd have thought."

"Please come back to me."

"No, Marty."

"Please."

"No, Marty."

"You don't really think I've been sleeping around."

"No. I know."

"That wasn't me."

"Convince the court."

"Sammy, I was only trying to show you that I could give you a baby."

"No, Marty. You were trying to satisfy your conceit and self-pride."

"That's not true."

"I'm afraid it is."

"Sammy, it's not true. I just wanted to give you a baby."

"Another woman's baby?"

"No! I wanted to prove to you that I was fertile and then we could go on and have in vitro fertilisation or something for you."

"I don't believe you, Marty. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were not sterile, to salvage your wounded ego. If I was the infertile one why did you virtually rape me four or five times a day for a week every month?"

"I did not."

"You did, Marty. I asked you to stop doing it but you refused. 'Are you denying me my conjugal rights?' Remember, Marty? You continued to take me against my will. That is rape. I am being kind to call it virtual rape."

"A man can't rape his wife."

"He can under British law and I'm British."

"You don't love me."

"No, Marty. Not any more."

"Why not?"

"Oh come on, Marty. Where's the famous brain you're so proud of?"

"There's no need to be a bitch."

"That's all you've treated me as of late."

"I'm going to come over and make you come home."

"Marty, you're talking rubbish. I won't come."

"I'll make you come."

"Oh?"

"I'll use force if I have to."

"Marty, you're still talking rubbish."

"I'm not afraid of your father or wimp brother."

"Another mistake and he's not a wimp."

"Gone back to him instead of a proper man, huh?"

"Marty!..."

"Better in bed than me is he?"

Samantha slammed the phone down and crumpled to her knees. Rupert ran to her side, knelt beside her and gathered her in his arms. He held her as she shook. There were no tears. She was deeply shocked and very, very angry.

The telephone rang again. They both ignored it. It went on ringing. They continued to ignore it.

Rupert gently raised Samantha to her feet and led her to the kitchen. Henry and Henrietta were there. Rupert helped her into a chair where she sat with her head in her hands.

"A cup of hot, sweet tea," said Rupert. Henry put the kettle on.

"I tried to be patient and calm," Samantha whimpered.

"You were, darling, until he started shouting," answered Rupert.

"He accused Henry and me of being lovers."

"What?" exclaimed Henry.

Rupert roared with laughter. "Nuts!" he said. "He's absolutely nuts."

His laughter was infectious. Even Samantha had to smile.

"He threatened to take me back by force."

"That's a load of codswallop too," said Rupert.

"I know, Daddy, but I've put a whopping great dent in his pride and he could be stupid enough to try or pay someone else to."

"Well they wouldn't get very far. Every airport would be sealed within half an hour of your abduction."

Henry put a cup of tea in front of her. "Do you think he might try to harm you?" he asked.

"In his present frame of mind he might. Even after the divorce goes through he might bear such a grudge that he'd try."

"I don't believe it," said Henrietta.

Samantha said nothing and sipped her tea.

Henry said he was going to walk the dogs and asked Samantha if she wanted to go with him. She agreed and they set off. Neither said much for a while.

"You know," she said suddenly, "he's so pumped up he might do something stupid."

"Well you could ask your old office to let you know if he suddenly takes leave."

"Yes but he could get a plane at the weekend and nobody would be any the wiser."

"That's a point. In fact, in his present state of mind he might try this weekend."

"Oh, Henry, what are we going to do?"

"I don't think there's a lot we can do. The last time he came here you came down to Pitsbury by train. Has he ever driven?"

"No but all he's got to do is read a map or get a taxi from the station."

"True."

They walked on in silence.

"Does he know where the flat is?"

"No."

"So you'd be safe there."

"Yes but he might take it out on Mum and Dad to try and find out where I am."

"Tell you what!"

"Go on."

"You could have a word with a couple of your girlfriends over there and get them to ring him on his mobile and say that they've been trying to get you on your home phone and your mobile but can't get an answer and, and, and. If he answers we know he's still in the States. If he doesn't we can prepare for him."

"Yes. That would cover the weekend but he could do a bunk one weekday evening and be in this country before anyone at work twigs."

"True but, coming to think of it, do you think he'd risk his job? Wouldn't he be more likely to take a week's leave, come and do whatever he plans and be back at work the following week?"

 
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