Chapter 4

Neither Wendy nor Peter went into work that day. Wendy collected the children from school and she and Theresa fed them and saw them settled down with their homework. Theresa insisted on cooking dinner and Wendy sat quietly in the drawing room until Bill got home shortly before seven when she joined them both for a drink in the kitchen. The children came roaring down to welcome him. At half past seven she and Bill went to read to them and settle them for the night. Dinner was ready by the time they were both downstairs again.

"So," said Bill, "tell us about your trip. Did it go well?"

"Very thanks." Wendy told them all about it. "I'm so glad that it was Peter who came with me," she went on. "Not only are we in tune on the project but he did all the organisation, such as it was, and was great fun to be with. Dinner last night was a treat: what you might call a super date."

"Well, he's always struck me as a nice man," said Theresa.

"Me too," added Bill.

"Yes, I like him very much," said Wendy, "and I'm jolly lucky to have him as a working partner."

Nothing more was said. At bed time Theresa came into Wendy's room as she was getting undressed.

"Your turn," she said.

"No, Mum. You haven't seen him all week."

"But I had him last Saturday and Sunday and will do this weekend so make the most of it."

Wendy hugged her. "I just hope I don't waste it and fall asleep on him."

"You won't, darling."

It was wonderful to be back in Bill's arms and to feel his familiar body against hers. He made slow, tender but intense love to her.

"I hated you flying, darling," he said. "I know it's the safest form of travel in the world but all the same I couldn't help worrying. Now you're back where you should be: with the family and in my arms."

Wendy gave a little sob. She was not sure whether it was joy at being back with the man she loved and who loved her so unreservedly or whether it was guilt at nearly being unfaithful to him the night before. She hugged him fiercely and he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"My precious, little Wendy," he murmured between the kisses.

They fell asleep in each other's arms. In the morning she went down on him before he awoke. He revelled in it for a while and then pulled her up on top of him. She kissed him gently.

"I love you, Bill Ainsworth, and I'm very lucky to have you. There aren't many mothers who would have accepted it."

She kissed him again with growing passion and then rode them both to a climax.

Peter had had no one to welcome him home bar his landlord and landlady and that was cursory, albeit warm. He unpacked and looked in the fridge. There was next to nothing on his shelf and certainly nothing that appealed to him. He bought a newspaper and took it to the pub where he ordered a pint of bitter and a cheese and bacon baguette.

He did not read the paper. He merely looked at it because his mind was filled by Wendy. He tried to concentrate on reading but was unable to. He had enjoyed working with her. She had an engineering mind that matched, indeed outmatched, his own for originality of thought. Together they had brought Icarus further and more quickly than anyone had thought they would. There were additions they had given it, mostly Wendy's ideas he admitted. They were a pair who, together, could advance aeronautical engineering. She could have eclipsed him on the American trip: 'I thought. I suggested. I did.' Not once. It was always 'we'. That could have been because she did not want to upset male sensibilities but he did not think so. She was confident in her own ability and did not seek to trumpet it. Instead she was prepared to share everything with her partner. She was special. He wondered briefly how Richard Bartlett saw their working relationship. He was nobody's fool. He might keep them together because the working relationship was so strong and productive. On the other hand, he could well separate them and use each individually in competition to the greater good of the organisation. Amen. They both needed and were able to make their own way but he could not help but hope that they could still work together. He thought they probably could, at least unofficially. Wendy might have ideas that were beyond current thinking but she would share them with others that she thought could take them forward because she was a true scientist cum engineer. She wanted to see beneficial change.

Then, invading all rational thought, there were his personal feelings for her. She had always been friendly and probably prepared to offer advice. She had enquired obliquely about his break up with his girlfriend but had kept quiet when he had rebuffed her. That rebuff had been understandable. It was a private matter and did not affect Wendy and he was right to be reticent. What had gone wrong? Shirley was a lovely girl, highly intelligent, fun, amusing and, as he thought, as much in love with him as he with her. They appeared to have the same goals. The trouble was she needed constant reassurance of his devotion to her and that meant being with her. Only being there at weekends and ringing every night were insufficient for her and so she had started going out with people who were around all week. He had not minded that but when he had been reduced to playing second fiddle at the weekends everything had unravelled. If only she had not been so insecure. On the other hand she had freed him for Wendy.

Would Wendy demand similar attention? He did not think so. She was much more self-assured or appeared to be. She had glossed over that caning incident but he had a feeling that it was a lot more unpleasant than she had let on. If he was right it must have dented her self-confidence considerably. That could be one reason for her being so devoted to her family and Bill in particular.

She was fun to be with. Rather than just be a passenger in his glider she had almost immediately wanted to take lessons and fly herself. Her enthusiasm and zest were contagious. He suspected that she had been the prime mover behind Bill's buying the twins their own dinghy. He would be prepared to bet too that she was the one that had fired them up to compete. She was a good teacher too. She had taught him the basics of sailing in a very short time and imbued him with a feeling of confidence.

He liked her quick wit and her ready laugh. He was impressed with the breadth of her interest. She could have been a successful newspaper correspondent whether writing about politics, business or sport.

She was also very attractive physically with her pretty smiling face, those huge violet eyes and her perfect figure. Holding her in his arms while they danced had been wonderful and she had not resisted him pulling her close until he had embarrassed himself when she had shown tactful understanding. He was glad that he had not suggested them going to bed together. That might have thrown her. On the other hand, she had kissed him goodnight so she must have some feeling for him.

He wondered what the best way forward was. Despite his own inclination to move things quickly he felt that could be counter-productive. He had to wean her gently away from her family. That would mean her spending more time with him. He would not wish her to forsake them but she did need to cut the metaphorical umbilical chord that bound her to them. The most difficult wrench might be the twins but the thought of having her own children ought to overcome that.

He considered ringing her and suggesting that they do something together tomorrow but remembered the conclusion he had only just reached. "Softlee, softlee, catchee monkey," he said to himself.

On Monday Richard Bartlett called them both in for a report on their trip. He expressed his pleasure and was excited at some of the projects the Americans were giving them a heads up on.