Chapter 6

Henry duly started his new job and found he was enjoying it. He liked the people and the work which, as well as being new, was interesting. He realised he was going to be earning his pay though. He was expected in by eight in the morning and seldom finished before seven in the evening. The exception was Friday when everyone made a concerted effort to be away by five at the latest. Henry learnt his first weekend that it was a waste of time to try and get away down to Carlton Parva too early. The traffic was solid and slow moving. It was better not to start until six.

The third Sunday Samantha announced during the Skype conversation that she would be coming over on a business trip the following weekend and asked Henry to meet at her at Heathrow off her normal flight. The family was overjoyed although Henrietta observed when they rang off that she was looking very pale and drawn. Henry had noticed too.

That was confirmed when he met her. The spring had gone out of her step and their reunion was subdued.

"Henry, my sweet, could we just go to the flat tonight and go home tomorrow?" she asked. "I'm exhausted and couldn't face a jolly evening this evening."

"Of course, Sams. I'll give Mum a ring when we get there. I'm afraid it'll only be scrambled eggs."

She smiled tiredly at him. "That'll do me fine. I don't want anymore."

Rather than the usual chatter it was a silent journey back into London. Henry fretted but said nothing. He did not on any account want to upset her.

He carried her bag, which seemed bigger than usual to her room.

"Freshen yourself up. I'll ring Mum and then we'll have a drink before I put my chef's hat on," he said lightly. The same tired smile.

He rang home and told Henrietta that Samantha was worn out and that they would be down for lunch.

"Does she look as washed out as she did last weekend?"

"Yes."

"All right. Take care of her, Henry dear."

"Yes, Mum." He did not want to say more and Henrietta realised why.

Samantha drifted into the kitchen.

"It looks to me," said Henry, "as though you could do with a large whisky and soda."

She nodded.

He poured two drinks and she followed him to the drawing room. They both sat on the sofa. Samantha took more than a sip of her drink and then sighed deeply.

"Sorry, she said. "I'm not being much fun."

"Don't worry. You've just had a long flight in the wrong direction. I'm not surprised you're whacked."

"She's never been in this state before though," he thought to himself.

Samantha suddenly put her glass down on the table and burst into tears. Henry flew to her side and put his arm round her shoulder. She turned her face into his chest and sobbed her heart out. Henry waited gently stroking her shoulder.

At length she shuddered and sat up groping for a tissue. Henry gave her his handkerchief. She smiled her thanks through her tears, mopped her face, blew her nose and handed it back.

"Have another slug of that," said Henry gently handing her her glass.

She did so. "Sorry, Henry love," she said.

He shook his head silently. She saw the compassion and love in his eyes all the same. She took a deep breath.

"I've left him," she said.

"I wondered. Do you want to tell me now or wait until we get home and not have to do it twice?"

"Oh, Henry, where would I be without gentle, considerate you?"

"In a train rattling down to darkest Wiltshire."

She could not help but smile.

"You don't think I did wrong, marriage vows and all that?"

"I very much doubt it. You wouldn't have done it without very good reason."

"No, I wouldn't."

He squeezed her shoulder. She put her drink down and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her handbag.

"If she's smoking it must be bad," he thought.

"Do you mind?" she asked timidly.

"Not if you need to. I'll get you an ashtray."

Her look was a mixture of guilt and gratitude. "Thanks. I hope to chuck it again soon."

He smiled and nodded.

The cigarette seemed to cheer her up and relax her a bit.

"Still enjoying the job?" she asked.

"Very much but they're slave drivers."

"Don't I know it? Remember how late I used to get in when I first started?"

"I do."

"But you're finding it interesting?"

"Yes. I'm learning a whole new approach to things but it all makes sense so far."

"Good. And what about Alison? Did you discover what her problem was?"

"Yes. Hideous but I can't say more than that."

"Are you still seeing her?"

"Yes but it'll never go any further, I'm afraid."

"That's sad."

"Yes but sadder for her because she'll never marry."

"She was raped, wasn't she?"

Henry nodded.

"Has she had therapy?"

"No and she never will. I'm sorry, Sams, but I can't tell you anymore. I'd be betraying her trust."

"Understood. Could I have another drink?"

"Of course you can. Same again?"

"Please."

He poured her a drink and topped up his own. He sat down beside her again. She lit another cigarette.

"He couldn't father a child with me, still couldn't believe it was his fault and so tried his luck elsewhere," she said calmly.

"Bloody man!"

"He'll be given the divorce papers tomorrow morning."

"Serve him right. So at the moment he thinks you really are over here on business."

She nodded. "The phone will start ringing about the time we get home tomorrow." She stubbed out her cigarette angrily.

"I had to do it, Henry. I had to. I couldn't bear it any longer."

She fell onto his chest again. He put both arms round her.

"Of course you couldn't, my precious. Of course you couldn't. You had to leave him. You had no other option. Relax, Sams sweetie. You did the right thing."

"You ... you ... really think so?"

"I know so. There was nothing else you could do: other than shoot the bugger and that would be too quick."