32

CHAPTER THIRTY

Brownlow rang the Swain house at 9:15am, a time when he could be reasonably sure that Cynthia would be home alone. "I want to talk to you, alone."

"I don't think that would be a very good idea."

"I don't think that you are in a position to dictate terms. If you have anyone with you when I get there I go straight to the station and present my evidence. I have enough to have you, at the very least, brought in for questioning about the death of Paul Thomas, but I also feel that there is enough evidence to have you arrested. I'm just asking for the opportunity to show you what I have before I decide whether to go public with it."

Cynthia thought it a little unusual but decided to go along with it, but she wasn't going to let him anywhere near her bed. "You can come on the condition that we meet in the back garden. When you get here you will find me by the pool."

"Fine, I'll see you in half an hour. Remember, anyone else around and I'm off to you know where."

Cynthia was by the pool running the vacuum over the bottom ridding it of its overnight windfall of leaves when Brownlow approached her. He stood and watched her until she switched off the vacuum and stood leaned it against the pool edge. "Now this is more like it."

"Like what?"

"Like the way that we should be behaving. I don't want to do anything to hurt you and, to prove that I still love you, I will outline the evidence that I have. If, when you've heard it, you agree to my terms I will go back to work admitting defeat. If, however, you don't agree to those terms I will be forced to present my evidence and have you arrested."

"You seem very sure of yourself, don't you?"

"Yes. Now, you know that we have established that the skeleton was that of Paul Thomas, a former very close friend of yours."

"Yes, you've made that very clear."

"Now you claimed that you did not see him from the time of the dinner dance. I have a witness that puts Mr Thomas in this house at a time when you were there, three or four days after the date of your mother's departure to visit relatives in England. The witness will testify that he saw Thomas arrive but he was not seen to leave."

"So, you have someone who will testify that he was here after the last time I said that I saw him, but what does that prove?"

"It proves that you lied to me. It proves that you had the opportunity. The fact that he was lover to both you and your mother, and I have evidence that it was him that broke it off with you, will prove motive. The only thing that I haven't got is method. I think that a jury will convict on body, motive, and opportunity without us having to establish method."

"What are these terms that you want me to agree to?"

"Now we're talking.. The continuation of our relationship, on my terms."

"Which are?"

"You will do as I ask, when I ask it as long as I ask."

"You arrogant pig! Do you think that there could be any pleasure in a relationship that is based on coercion?"

"Before you decide, there is one more thing that I want you to see." He took an envelope from his jacket pocket and passed it over. "I think that will be enough to convince you."

Cynthia looked at the pictures in her hand. Rebecca and Samantha, naked, on a bed in a position that could only be described as pornographic. "Where did you get these?"

"Vice arrested the principals of a pornography syndicate and these pictures were among those confiscated. I recognised Rebecca and her friend Samantha and took them from the file. If you agree to my terms I'll get the negatives and turn them over to you so that you will know that they have been taken out of circulation. What is your answer?"

"You are lower than I've given you credit for. You know that I will not give into to you to protect myself, so now you want a minor indiscretion on Rebecca's part to blackmail me into submitting to your totally selfish demands. You also know that the only way that you can blackmail me is to threaten to go public. I already know about these things that Rebecca and Samantha have been doing so I'm not as shocked as you might have thought, in fact we have been trying to get the photos back ourselves. The thought of other people seeing them would normally be enough to force me to submit to you."

"Normally?"

"Supposing that I do agree to your terms, how long do you intend to continue with this arrangement?"

"As long as it suits me." Brownlow's voice was gaining in confidence, victory was within sight.

"And if this relationship should ruin my marriage?"

"Tough! As long as I get what I want I'll be happy. If I don't get what I want you can kiss good-bye to your precious family anyway. I will destroy them."

"I need a little time to think this over. It's getting warm out here and I've no intention of allowing you inside, at least not until I've reached a decision, so could you give me a hand to drag the umbrella out from under the house to give us a bit of shade and then I'll go in and get us a cool drink. Then we'll talk some more." She led the way to the store room under the house and pointed to a large umbrella laying in the corner. He picked it up and carried it out to the pool area. As she left the store room Cynthia picked up a glass jar from the shelf.

Brownlow stood the umbrella pole into the hole at the centre of the table and reaching inside it, he pushed up to open it. As he did so, Cynthia opened the jar and emptied its contents in to gap between his collar and neck.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Cynthia's Story

It was my first grown up function, the end of year Tennis Club Dinner Dance and Presentation Night, and I felt so sophisticated in my very first ball gown. It was blue chiffon and had absolutely yards of tulle under skirting that made it stand out so that I seemed to float in a blue cloud. My hair was done in the latest formal style, a far cry from my usual casual, caught at the back of my neck style, and my makeup was professionally applied at a local beauty salon.

Mother looked as usual in a very elegant black dress, her hair piled high on her head and set off by a single strand of pearls interwoven into it. Around her neck she wore a three strand pearl choker that set off her long, swan-like, neck to perfection.

Daddy was very smartly dressed in a black dinner suit with a white shirt that had ruffles down the front. He wore a black bow tie, a red cummerbund and matching carnation in his button hole. We were the handsomest family there.

I was escorted by a handsome but shallow young man that Mother had arranged for me. Nigel Thornton was tall, had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, tanned complexion, a great smile and absolutely no personality. In short a plastic replica of a man and a used car colleague of Paul's.

I danced with both Paul and Nigel. Both of them held me closely and talked of nothing but themselves. Both of them tried to outdo the other with their prowess on the dance floor. Paul partnered me for the tango, we strode purposefully, cheek to cheek, across the floor until we reached the other end, as we changed direction, Paul threw me back until I was sure that I would end up on the floor. The first time he did it I squealed in surprise and this spurred him on to greater feats.

Nigel asked me to dance the waltz. His spins were exuberant to say the least, we seemed to be joined at the hip, he standing upright and me bent back till it almost hurt. I felt a hardness in him as we twirled our way between the other dancers. Paul and Mother were doing their best to better us, both men were concentrating on their dancing and not saying much. I was glad when the dance was over, but Nigel wanted to hold me for a while longer so that the bulge in his pants could subside. I was tempted to walk away from him and exposing his embarrassment for the rest of the people to see. I glanced across to Mother, and Paul seemed to be having a similar problem.

I had a dance with Daddy who held me less closely and allowed me to talk about anything I wanted. The orchestra of sorts played the latest dance numbers, you know the smoochie kind, and under the influence of that and the copious quantities of champagne, couples oiled their way through about three quarters of an hour until the meal was served and the presentations began.

During the meal I politely listened and gave appropriate responses to Nigel who talked continuously about himself and stressed that I should feel honoured that he was my escort for the evening. He left little doubt as to what he considered an appropriate reward for that privilege.

I paid little attention to the proceedings until I heard the MC announce, "The next trophy is for the Best New Player. This young lady has shown us that with good coaching and dedication as well as some small amount of natural skill to begin with, a player can achieve a consistently high level of performance. The winner is, drum roll please, Cynthia Pearson!" There was sustained applause as I walked up onto the dais to collect my trophy.

As I took the trophy from him, the MC indicated the microphone and told me that I had to say something. "I, I would like to thank," looking around the room I could see what appeared to be thousands of eyes looking straight at me, "the club for this trophy, I didn't expect this. I would also like to thank Mr Thomas for the coaching, my parents for their support and, and, just about everyone in the club. Thank you." I got off the dais as quickly as I could.

Daddy stood as I got to the table and gave me a huge hug. "Congratulations Darling."

Mother looked at me and smiled quickly. Paul stood and came around and stood behind me, he leant forward, kissed me lightly on the cheek and whispered in my ear, "Where would you be without my coaching?" I turned quickly, there was amusement in his voice and probably in his eyes as well, but I couldn't see them because he was looking down the front of my dress and from his angle little would have escaped his gaze.

During the dance Nigel had his mouth attached to my ear and, in between trying to blow into it he whispered, "Paul tells me that he's taught you everything he knows. I think that I should check it out to see if his lessons have sunk in." His hand pulled me tightly to him and he used his strength to grind his hips into mine. It was uncomfortable and I couldn't get away from him and it was a relief when the dance was over and I could sit down again. He had obviously been having lessons himself because, as he held my chair solicitously for me to sit down, I was conscious of his gaze that was fixed on my cleavage.

Paul seemed to alternate between Mother and me. He danced the slower dances with her, holding her tightly, his cheek pressed to hers, both of them oblivious to the attention from Daddy and some of the other club members. They whispered to each other continually as if they hadn't seen each other for some time, something that I knew not to be the case.

During the next dance Daddy asked me. "How is it going? You've been kept busy but I feel that you aren't really enjoying the attention."

"The night is great, it's just some of the people."

"Paul and Nigel?"

"Yes, is it that obvious?"

"Not really, but I get the feeling that you are not enjoying their company."

"I just wish that would stop ogling me. All they seem to be doing is looking down the front of my dress and trying to blow in my ear. I wish now I'd not given in to Mother about this dress, I wanted one that showed less but she said that I was all grown up and should take advantage of my assets."

"I'll speak to her about it and, if you want me to, I'll have words with Paul and Nigel."

"No Daddy, no, please don't make a scene."

"As you wish. I could have a quiet word in the gents."

"No, I'll be fine, thanks all the same."

I tried to avoid Paul and Nigel by accepting invitations to dance from several other men to dance with them. While we were stumbling around the floor I was conscious of Paul's eyes watching my every move. I was sure that I had hurt his feelings by not allowing him to dance with me. This was more or less confirmed when, as I was being seated by my partner at the end of a painful foxtrot and another young man was homing in on me. "My turn next Sonny." The note on condescension in his voice made the unfortunate young man to cringe away. "I insist on the next dance."

Mother's look would have caused a less self-centred man to change his mind, but I could see that Paul was avoiding here gaze.

The music swelled into life in a slow dance that was clearly designed to allow couples to get to know each other very well. I can remember someone describing this type of dance as 'the vertical expression of a horizontal desire'. "I asked the band to play this especially for you."

"Why?"

"This is your night, and so that I can hold you close while we dance."

"Won't Mother be angry?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, because of that thing that you have going on between the two of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You must be the only person that doesn't. It's common knowledge that you and Mother are having an affair."

"I'm sure that she'll understand that I don't want to be seen monopolizing her."

"Will she?" He held me close, his hands down low on my back leaving me with no option but to place both my hands around his neck.

"Doesn't this feel good."

'I suppose so, but we shouldn't be dancing like this."

"Why ever not? It is acceptable for partners to hold each other closely for this dance."

At last the dance ended and as Paul, led me back to my chair I could see the dirty look on Mother's face. Like it or not. Paul was letting himself in for a lot of trouble.

I danced with a couple of other young men as well as the club President who claimed 'President's Privilege' Despite his attentions it was a relief to get away from Paul and Nigel for a while. By midnight most of the people were very merry and joined hands to sing 'Auld Lang Syne'. There was a lot of drunken jostling and bumping going on. It seemed that every time the circle closed I would have some drunken man hit me full on and leering at me before staggering away. I was glad when it was all over.

But it wasn't over. Mother had invited several couples to our house for a continuation of the festivities. I didn't think I would ever get there. Nigel tried to kiss me as soon as we got into his car, one hand pulling me to him, the other reaching for my legs. "No! Just take me home!"

"Aw come on, just one little kiss to show me how much you enjoyed tonight."

"So you think that I enjoyed tonight do you? Well I didn't" I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "There, are you satisfied?"

"Is that all I get?"

"Yes. Now take me home."

He drove fast and not very well, the car slewed its way around corners, almost hitting several telegraph poles and parked cars. On the first left hand corner that we came to I slid across the seat until I was pressed against him, his arm came around my shoulder, holding me to him. My left hand felt the seat and from the smooth slippery surface I gathered that he polished the passenger's side of the bench seat to effect the result that it had.

"Isn't this better?"

"If you are trying to impress me with your driving skills, you've failed miserably. I'm not impressed so slow down!"

That was the wrong to say to him, his ego badly bruised he sped up, laughing at my fright. "Doesn't this make you feel good?"

"If you don't slow down I am going to be sick." To emphasise the point I covered my mouth and leant towards him. He slowed down.

"Don't be sick in here, I've only just cleaned it from the last person who was sick in it. Cleaning is costing me a fortune."

"Surely that should tell you something."

"Hummph!"

There were several cars outside our place when we got there and Nigel had to park about fifty yards away. His arm went around my waist as soon as we got out and, rather than struggle, I allowed him his small concession but when he tried to kiss me I turned my head away. "Come on Baby, just one little kiss."

"No. You are revolting."

"I'm only trying to be friendly."

"I don't want that kind of friendship."

"But Paul said. . . ."

"What did Paul say?"

"Nothing."

"Out with it! Paul told you that I was a pushover and asking for it, didn't he?"

"No." He said with all the sincerity of a used car salesman.

"Take me inside. Now!"

We entered to find the house full of people. Some were standing around drinking, some were sitting, drinking while others were drifting around the living room to the silky sounds of a dance record, while still others were out in the back yard taking advantage of the semi-darkness to take advantage of each other. Daddy was nowhere to be seen but I knew where to find him. He was in his private retreat under the house. "Hi Daddy."

"Hi Sugar, did you enjoy yourself? No, you don't need to answer that, how could anyone enjoy themselves with that rabble?"

"Most of them are okay, come on, you can't stay down here all night." He reluctantly followed me out into the yard. He had little opportunity to resist because I had grabbed him firmly by the hand and dragged him from the room.

Mother was in one of the couples locked together in the living room. Father poured us both a glass of milk. "Drink this, I find at this time of the evening a glass of milk is refreshing after all that alcohol."

"But you're not drunk."

"No, but I still like my glass of milk."

Daddy was watching Mother and Paul 'dancing'. They stood in the centre of the floor, their feet hardly moving, whispering to each other. I was angry at Mother for being so blatant about it. Daddy's hand grasped my upper arm firmly. "No Darling, it's alright, leave them alone."

"But Daddy, I don't think that she has any right to behave in that way."

"That is where she would disagree with you. One day you'll understand."

I would have left them to it and gone to bed but I knew that I would have no chance of getting to sleep until the party broke up, so I just drifted around trying to avoid a confrontation with Nigel, who seemed at last to have homed in on someone else.

At about two in the morning there was a loud splash from the back yard as someone jumped into the pool. Noticing that Mother wasn't around, I went outside to find several people, including her and Paul, skinny dipping in the pool. There was a lot of splashing going on but I couldn't help but notice the two of them at the far end of the pool, locked in each other's arms and kissing. I also noticed Daddy standing in the darkness watching them. "Come inside." I led him inside. At the door he paused and reached for the switch that turned on the floodlights that turned night into day around the pool.

"Turn it off! Angry voices came from the pool. Also from the pool cam and angry Mother, the water soaking through the dress that she had hastily put on to cover her nudity. Wet fabric covers little. "Why did you turn on the lights?" She demanded through clenched teeth.

"If you want to make an exhibition of yourself, why don't you go all the way and do it in full view of everyone. Why hide it?"

"Ooooooh! You infuriate me!" She stormed off.

"I don't that she's very happy."

"No she isn't. But it is about time she thought about other peoples' feelings."

"I'm sorry." I hugged him.

"Why should you be sorry?"

"I'm sorry that you've been so hurt. I love you Daddy."

"I know." He gave me a paternal hug as angry people began to drift in from the back yard, dripping their way through the house and out the front door. Mother was one of the last to come in, strategically some time after Paul. She burned Daddy with a searing glare. It had no effect on him. He was doing his congenial host impersonation, thanking them all for dropping in and hoping that they enjoyed themselves.