Chapter 39

It was at Christmas time when Natasha realised that there was something amiss. Bruce was being too nice to her, altogether too charming. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she felt that he had changed in some way. It was not until he actually stayed overnight at Northolt, after Christmas was over, that she knew what it was. That night, strangely, Bruce got into the wrong side of the bed. When he made love to her she realised that he wasn’t making love to her at all. He did different things, unfamiliar things. It wasn’t the way it usually was. She realised at once that Bruce had been making love with someone else and what was more, he was used to doing it.

Natasha said nothing. Nothing then and not a word later. Her mind was in absolute turmoil. Although outwardly she seemed as calm and placid as always, inside her emotional state was in total chaos and disarray. She simply did not know what to do. A hundred times she went to talk to Andrew and Emma about it and a hundred times she shied away at the last moment. She knew that she would get no impartial advice from them. She was well aware of what they both would say.

She made lists of all the pros and cons and checked them off one against another. It was hopeless. Like comparing chalk with cheese. Then the new term began and she had had to return to Bristol once more.

Dear sweet lovable Toby, playing wicked games in the bathroom on a Wednesday night; he and she and Emma, all revelling in the whole thing. When he had touched her intimately, she had swooned with pleasure and when she felt his hardness beneath the water she had wanted fiercely to take him inside her body. When Emma had offered to contribute towards a double bed for them it had taken all her willpower not to say “yes please”. Still she couldn’t bring herself to take any positive action, and anyway things with Bruce were still fine, on the surface at least. She had no real evidence, simply those vague gnawing instincts that told her she was right. She had been prepared to let things alone. Perhaps she would wait until the next holidays before doing anything rash. Then, so unexpectedly, she had found Toby on the floor in the bathroom with that horrible-looking girl. It had been such a shock. Considering that Natasha had never ever thought of herself as a jealous person, she was appalled at the violent way in which she had reacted. What rights had she over him anyway? She had spent the whole night asking herself the same question, over and over again. The answer came back to her - none, none at all. Even so, the next day she could not face him. Could not forgive him for destroying what might have been. But how was he to know that though? What real hope had she ever held out to him?

Things were just about beginning to improve when he did it again. Oh the beastliness of him. How could he? And then, to pile on the agony, she found him with that dreadful little nymphomaniac in Andrew and Emma’s bed. It seemed as if Toby was throwing himself away. He didn’t seem to care any more. Didn’t care for her, didn’t care for anyone. She was losing him and she realised that she would have to do something before it went too far and it was finally too late.

The plan had come to her as she sat alone in the flat on that last Tuesday night. Alone after Toby had gone out with yet another of his cheap little tarts. Why? If it had only been a girl that she could have approved of, somebody like Amber or Samantha, it would not have hurt quite so much. But he was throwing them in her face. He almost seemed determined to hurt her and he was succeeding.

On Friday she had left University early and had almost flown back to the flat. Her little overnight bag had been prepared and left under her bed the previous night. There were only a few items from the bathroom to add to it. She scribbled the note, picked up the keys to the car off the side and she was away. Her mother had been no trouble at all when she reached Northolt. A little surprised perhaps, but a smile and a kiss had made it all fine in a moment. As she turned onto the northbound carriage of the motorway she wondered, just for a moment, exactly what she was letting herself in for.