Chapter 14

Wednesday 9th to Thursday 17th December 1970

I was leaving a conference room in the Royal Bolton Hospital on the following Wednesday in December, after I had been called in by the hospital to discuss the legal situation following a serious failure of a very expensive and necessary piece of equipment. The hospital had signed a very sloppy contract, using which the supplying company sought to evade responsibility and the expense of repair or replacement. I was deep in thought as to what the hospital could possibly do legally, when I heard my name.

“Graham? Graham Proctor?”

I turned to see Mary Turner hurrying towards me.

“Mary, how good to see you!” I greeted her, “You working here now?”

Mary had been training as a nurse while I was an undergrad. We never went out together but moved in the same friendship circles.

“Yeah,” she said. “Got some time? Cup of tea?”

We went to the hospital cafe and caught up on each other’s histories.

She had been working in the hospital since graduation, but wanted to move into general practice. She was dating, as in ‘living with’, one of the doctors and they were planning on getting married in a year or two. She enlightened me on a number of our common acquaintances.

Then it was my turn. I told her of my job and brought her up to date on our mutual friends as she had done.

“Love life?” she prompted.

“Yes I do!” I replied with a grin.

“Oh you haven’t changed,” she said with resignation and a tolerant smile. “Still messing with words. No wonder you’re a lawyer. You know what I mean.”

I held up my hands in surrender. “OK, I have a number of very good women friends. We play bridge every week. They work with me.”

She looked inquisitively at me; I looked at her blandly. She frowned.

“And?” she asked. “Romance?”

“Not at the moment. I had a relationship with a woman, but she let me down badly. Met her at a carol concert at our old hall of residence. We were together for best part of a year and a half, even got engaged. It’s rather put me off getting into anything serious.”

“Oh yes? Bracegirdle Hall you say?” she said. “I was two years behind you in Hall, I remember you playing at folk evenings. Do I know her? I was there four years.”

“Don’t know,” I said. “Her name was Penelope.”

“Not Penelope Roasburie?”

“The same.”

“She arrived the year I left. Unusual name, that’s why I remember her. She let you down?”

“She cheated – went with someone else. Found out shortly after we got engaged, she broke it off by returning her engagement present. No communication at all. Not even a note with the packet.”

“This is Penny Roasburie we’re talking about? Cheating? Not Penny, I can’t believe it!”

“‘Fraid so. Never got in touch. Apparently she thought I was cheating on her with someone else, but never asked it if were true. She’s engaged to someone else now.”

“Now I can believe she’d react to cheating. She always distrusted men, and never could finish with them face to face. So it figures.”

Silence. That was news to me, but it was irrelevant. In any case my attention was caught by a woman in the cafe. What’s new, I hear you say. This was a blonde. All right, don’t repeat the comment. She was a hospital orderly in its unflattering uniform.

These days all hospital staff seem to dress in shapeless overalls. Then, nurses wore demure dresses and so did women orderlies, cleaners, whatever. This girl had her back to us and was mopping the floor of the cafe, and her legs were on show up to the knees and a little flash beyond as she bent forward. They were shapely legs, very shapely. The woman’s hair was in a ponytail, and her neck and ears were also spell-binding, slender swan neck and neat ears.

“Graham? Hello?”

I was brought back to Mary who had a broad grin on her face.

“You haven’t changed, have you?” she almost accused me. “Always was a leg man!” and she laughed.

I was caught! I grinned sheepishly. “What I see is really stunning, and that’s only the back view.”

Mary became serious. “That one? I’m worried about her, very worried. So are a few of the other nurses. She’s a lovely girl, but she’s being bashed about by her boyfriend, if that’s what you’d call him. Comes in with black eyes covered up with makeup, bruises on her arms, I’m afraid she’ll be badly injured. She’s not well off, and I don’t think she’s got anywhere else to go. I’d take her in, but we’ve not enough room in our small flat.”

“How old?”

“Twenty? Twenty One? Something like that. Shame, she’s really nice. Works hard. She can’t hide some of the bruises, though she tries to.”

By now the girl had picked up her bucket and left.

“Hasn’t she got any family?” I asked, intrigued.

“Doesn’t seem to have, she won’t talk about herself. I see her to chat to, but she clams up about her personal life. I wish I could get her away from that man. She’s not happy, sort of downtrodden.”

Sometimes I say stupid things. No, really! This was one of those times. It was probably the legs and neck wot dun it.

“I’ve got room, but she’s hardly likely to want to trust another man after what she’s going through. She’d have to leave her job as well. Not likely is it?”

“You got designs on her?” I knew Mary trusted me but was not altogether sure about my intentions.

“Mary, I’m a lawyer. I can’t afford any bad publicity, so on that level alone I won’t go near her. But you know me, I do have some morals about taking advantage of people. Let’s say I’d get to have some company, she gets a safe place to stay. She can housekeep for me.

“I’ve already got a friend and bedmate, so unless she wants to take things further, I won’t be feeling frustrated at having a pretty woman around.”

She nodded, and we let the matter drop. I left after we exchanged addresses and phone numbers, Yes, as a doctor her boyfriend needed a phone.

On Friday evening, the phone rang as I got in after work. It was Mary.

She came to the point. “Had a talk with Sandy, you know, that girl you were ogling. I told her about you and your offer and she’s coming to our place for dinner tomorrow; her so-called boyfriend is away for the weekend. Are you free? Like to meet her? She’s quite intrigued by you, you know, making that offer out of the blue to flat share.”

I mentally kicked myself, what was I getting myself into? But after what I’d said, I knew my conscience would not let me rest if I didn’t go.

“Sounds interesting,” I said. “Yes, Mary, thanks, I’d like to.”

I explained to Colette, with whom I had made tentative arrangements for the weekend. She was most intrigued, and laughed heartily at me wanting to help a pretty woman.

“I could be at the flat – in bed – naked – waiting for you tomorrow night. You might be feeling frisky after your evening with another blonde.”

“Now that sounds a good idea,” I said enthusiastically, “You’ve still got a key?”

She had.

Flowers for the lady, and a couple of bottles of good wine, one white, one red, were my armoury as I knocked at Mary’s door.

“Why thank you,” Mary gushed as she took the flowers, kissing my cheek, leaving me with the wine. Behind her was a tall good looking man.

She introduced him as her boyfriend Joshua and I unloaded the bottles onto him. He looked at the labels, was suitably impressed and preceded me into their living room, where stood the blonde woman who looked a little timid, or perhaps worried.

“Graham,” said Mary, “Can I introduce Sandy Christleton? Sandy, this is the Graham Proctor I told you about.”

After what Mary said at the hospital I was expecting a black eye or at least a bruised cheek. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Now I was looking at a very pretty face.

She was as tall as I was, on the slim side. She had medium breasts, neat waist, curvy hips and those shapely slim legs I’d seen before, below a shortish dress which her admirable bottom (also hinted at before) pushed out prettily. I noticed at least three inch heels, so she was not quite as tall as I initially thought. I noticed that while the dress was not exactly shabby, it was well worn, and well looked after. I surmised it was her best dress. Her eyes were dim and lifeless, as though she’d been through all this sort of thing before, and was not looking forward to going through it all over again.

All that was taken in at a glance as I went towards her holding out a hand to shake. She was really very pretty, with delicate features, wide set eyes, small nose, full lips, small chin and that long sinuous neck. What immediately took my attention was the colour of her eyes. I had been expecting blue eyes with blonde hair, and so green eyes came as a surprise. I wondered briefly and unworthily whether her other hair was blonde as well. However, regardless of that, the whole picture was very attractive, and I was riveted, though I worked hard not to show it.

“Pleased to meet you, Sandra,” I said as we took each other’s hands. I smiled at her, and there was almost a smile from her, though there was that air of worry or shyness about her.