Chapter 9

"Hi, Jeannie! It's James. How are you?"

"I'm fine, honey, but I may have worn your wife out."

"How come?"

"Well! Since you last called I took her to meet all the girls from my church and that was quite a party and then we did an eight day trip down to Florida. I'm not so sure she enjoyed it overmuch but I'll let her tell you. Hold on."

"James?"

"Hello, my darling! How are you?"

"I'm fine, my sweet, but shattered."

"The trip to Florida?"

"Yes..." and there then followed details of the trip including a description of them getting lost in a tough area of Miami. I think that on balance she had enjoyed it but Jeannie is an energetic lady.

"So anyway, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, nothing spectacular apart from Victoria's confirmation yesterday."

"Of course! I'm sorry I wasn't there for her but how did it go?"

"It was a lovely service and she looked sweet. The bishop stressed that as a god-mum you still weren't off the hook."

"I'll bet! Who else was there?"

"Oh! Giles and Annie, Paul and Ginnie but lots of others who I'd never seen before."

"How did Vanessa look?"

"Proud as a Mum should be but I thought she was dressed a bit OTT."

There was a snort of laughter from beside me and then a very pink Morag looking apologetically at me.

"Who's there?"

"Morag, remember her?"

"Of course I do. How is she? Was she there?"

"Yes and that's why she's here."

"Go on, my darling man. Tell me."

"Well, yes, she was there looking as lovely as ever (dig in the ribs) but a bit out of sorts. You know how she's normally bouncing with life?"

"Yes!"

"Well, she seemed a bit piano and came to find me after about half an hour of the reception and said "Safe haven."

"Go on"

"I sensed that she was in need of help of some sort."

"Ye-es!"

"So I took her out for dinner at a super Italian restaurant that she knew in South Ken."

"Ye-es!"

"And she spilled the beans. She had had a perfectly horrid first experience of sex at school that bordered on rape. She has felt insecure and frightened ever since despite various of her friends getting into relationships where they said the sex was wonderful. As a result, she has found it impossible to relax with men of her own age because she felt they were just summing up their chances of bedding her.

"Oh, the poor darling! Did you take care of her?"

"Yes, I did. Now of course she reckons she's in love with me but feels desperately guilty because of you. She feels she has caused me to be unfaithful to you."

"Rubbish! 'Course you haven't been otherwise you'd never have told me. Darling, you are such a sweet and giving man and I love you for it. Would it be a good idea if I was to talk to her?"

"Please do. She's sitting beside me getting worked up into a state (elbow in the ribs). Ow! Well perhaps not but I know she'd like to talk to you."

"OK, my darling! Put her on. I'd like a quick word with you again when we've finished."

"Sure! I'd like that. Here you are."

I clicked off the loud-speaker button and handed the phone over to Morag, asking as I did so: "Glass of red wine?"

She nodded enthusiastically and then said slightly hesitantly: "Mary?"

As I left the room I heard her say "Fine, thank you. You sound as though you're having a great if exhausting time."

I went out to the kitchen and poured her a glass of the boxed red plonk we keep and helped myself to a whisky and soda. I took Morag's wine through to her and then went back and muddled about in the kitchen to give her a bit more time without listening in to her one-sided conversation.