Chapter 1
Victoria uttered a curse, an uncharacteristic oath as she stared at the person on the street corner.
The heavy dampness inside and outside the car, the rain, and the fog on the windows, made it difficult for her to know if the figure huddled at the omnibus stop was male or female. Inside the motorcar, the wet was in her eyes, dammed up during another morning of sullen bickering with her husband, the tears spilling over now that she had dropped him off at the train station for his morning ride to London. Outside, it was raining again, the drizzle coming down through the gray overcast sky, the wetness in the trees lining the road, the rain whipped by a capricious wind. Victoria leaned forward, wiped at her eyes, and peered hard through the windscreen before she was certain the figure was indeed that of a young man, probably a student at the local university, and by that time she had driven past him.
Suddenly, she slowed the car and stopped completely. You're mad, she thought. No, she was not mad; she told herself she knew precisely what she was doing. She checked the rear window, then swung the car around and returned up the road.
She would offer that young man a ride, a maybe other things as well. Why shouldn't she? Her husband of ten years seemed to scarcely want her anymore. To Sebastian she was obviously flawed, either inside or out, and by offering herself to a stranger, she could at least discover if there were some glaring defect in her looks that was not revealed by the mirror.
Madness, she thought. But she would do it anyway.
Brenda, her worldly-wise friend, had said: "Darling, Sebastian is just going through a phase. He'll probably get over it, but in the meantime there is no reason for you to get all frustrated. Have yourself an affair, darling. There are scads of men out there who would love to be with you, and it would serve Sebastian right if you went out and found yourself a bit of fun. Pick out a perfect stranger -- they're the safest -- and just jump right into bed with him, and then never see him again. It will take the wrinkles out of your ego, not to mention taking the wrinkles out of your fanny."
Victoria thought it crude earthy advice, but fairly logical advice also. She was indeed becoming frustrated, and her feminine ego was badly damaged. An affair with a perfect stranger might be just what she needed. She had thought about it enough during the past few weeks, as the bickering with Sebastian had increased. She had pictured herself with suave, handsome men of the world, nude on a satin-covered bed, being made love to with passionate ardor, and while those images had provided her a measure of mental revenge for Sebastian's neglect, they had only served in the end to increase her frustration. Of course those perfect strange men were not available to her in Bromley. She did not know anyone like that. She was merely a suburban wife, and she hardly ever went to London like Brenda did. Brenda was divorced, and she had an active life in both London and in Bromley. Victoria told herself the perfect strangers of her dreams, if she ever found them in Bromley, would no doubt destroy what remained of her marriage. What she needed, then, was an imperfect stranger, someone young, the ideal male animal for a flirtation with a minimum of danger and a maximum of ego-bolstering reaction. A student. It would be a flirtation and nothing more. She could test herself at her worst with him -- her eyes red from weeping, no makeup, unalluringly dressed -- and in the unlikely event that he reacted too strongly, she could easily dissuade him. Madness, perhaps, but it was certainly in keeping with her present mood of marital rebellion, and it was not nearly as mad as picking up some man in a pub, as Brenda had been urging her to do.
The young man was still there on the bench when she passed him on the other side of the road. Now or never, Victoria thought. She could either impulsively flaunt herself before the hot eyes of this student, or she could gradually turn into a meek little mouse of a wife who lived only to cater to Sebastian Spence.
She braked the car, made a complete turn, then braked again at the curb near the bench where the student sat dripping in the rain. She swung the door open. She did not even look at herself in the mirror; she wanted to see her reflection in his eyes. And those eyes opened wide at her smiling invitation.
"Get in before you drown," she said. "I'll give you a ride to your college. Or wherever it is you're going."
His mouth fell open. He sat paralyzed for several moments, then fairly leaped into the car. He shut the door and continued gaping at her as he sat with his hands clasped in his lap.
Victoria started the car moving slowly.
"Were you waiting for the bus to the university?"
"Yes," he said.
He was young, barely more than twenty, she thought. Dear heavens. He was certainly safe -- and certainly interested. Or was he merely surprised that a tousled blonde in a quilted pink robe and blue pyjamas and slippers would stop for him?
"You oughtn't to be out in this rain," she said.
"My bicycle is in the repair shop."
"You still oughtn't to be in the rain like this."
She guessed him to be the studious type, and that was good and safe. He was good-looking enough, with long brown hair wet with rain, an open face without guile, neatly dressed in jeans and a shirt and a jacket, all of course thoroughly soaked and clinging to his body. Victoria glanced at his clasped hands, wondering about the extent of his interest in her. His cheeks turned pink as she looked at him, and he tore his gaze from her to look straight ahead through the sweeping wipers.
She shifted her arms and allowed her robe to fall open a bit. "Do you like the university?"
"Yes," he said.
As if programmed by a computer, his head slowly turned until he was looking at her again.
She flashed him a smile, saw his cheeks were almost crimson now. He was wringing his hands in his lap. His nervousness amused her, intrigued her. Her own nervousness was vanishing. Her little escapade was turning out to be far more fun than she had imagined it would be. She reached her right hand inside the opening of her robe, scratched at the soft swell of her breast, let him clearly see the conical bulge only thinly covered by ice-blue nylon. He went very pale now, bit his lower lip and turned to look out the side window.
Victoria said: "I just dropped my husband off at the station. That's why I'm driving around practically undressed. Now I'm headed for a boring, rainy day at the house on my own, when I can think of many other things I'd rather be doing. I suppose you're the same. I suppose sometimes there are things you would rather be doing than listening to lectures. Isn't that so?"
His head slowly swiveled back. He could only manage to nod now, but eloquently. His hands squirmed in his lap, and Victoria realized he was desperate to conceal his erection -- or perhaps he was massaging himself, surreptitiously masturbating right there in front of her. The idea amused her.
