A short tale of imperfect characters. She strayed (wouldn't you?). His revenge is quick and simple but equally quickly, he regrets it. Her lover saves the day.
There is no sex, English spelling.
FLYING THE FLAG
Part One; Raising the flag
Deborah
She was almost quivering with excitement. They had just passed the hedge marking the start of the estate and soon she would be with the man she was desperate for. Ahead the long low stable block with its charming bell tower and steeply pitched roof of Sussex tile had come into sight.
"Wow, is that the house?" her husband asked.
She just cracked up. What an idiot the man was.
"That's the stable block. Slow down, the drive is ahead on the left."
They swung into the driveway in his little electric sports car. Typical of him. Wants a sports car but isn't man enough for a real one so he buys this silly little battery-operated runabout. She admitted that it accelerated really fast but it sounded just like a stupid milk float. He thinks he wants to be a man but he's just another of those pencil dicks who whine and moan about the climate.
Don't they realise that technology has always solved these kinds of problems? Anyway, her Dad told her that fifty years ago all the climate scientists were convinced there was going to be new ice age. As he said, 'Thank God for global warming. If the glaciers started marching south again the 'civilised' world would be in much more trouble.' He wasn't the kind of guy to be worried about anywhere else.
She looked over at her husband. Bill was driving her towards the start of her new life and he didn't have a clue. He was quiet as he always was when driving. Typical of him, not able to do two things at once. All her friends and her family had told her she was making a huge mistake in marrying him and she had begun to realise quite soon that they had been right. Now she couldn't even remember why she had. He wasn't from her class, he wasn't particularly handsome. He was different, she supposed. She knew he was a clever in a sort of unreal way. He couldn't do anything useful like fix things that went wrong and he was useless about money and how important it was but she did allow he was brainy.
He was like most of the people he worked with at the university, just disconnected from the real world. She'd been to one or two faculty parties until she refused to go any more. What a bunch of twats. Always arguing about things that were just not relevant. The science guys weren't too bad. She didn't understand a word they said but at least the stuff they were doing was, or might become, practical. The worst were the Arts Faculties. She got trapped once by this cliché professor, all sandals and tufty hair and beard. God, she hated to think what was living in that beard. He yammered at her for what seemed like hours about moral philosophy of all pointless things. She bet that the worst moral problem he'd ever faced was whether or not to make a move on his secretary.
She looked at her husband again, trying to remember why she'd ever thought she loved him and could have his children and grow old with him. The only thing that she could think of was that he had had kind eyes. Eyes that said he understood her, that at bottom she was alright, that she could trust him and that he would care for her.
That sure was different from the other boys she had run around with who just wanted the same thing, who just wanted to possess her. But Freddy now. Well Freddy was as different as could be both from Bill and from all the others who had sniffed around her. His family was connected to the highest in the land and were fabulously wealthy. Freddy was just as brainy as Bill. He'd been to Cambridge and gained a first and was now working in the City and making his own obscenely large bonuses. On top of that he had a physique. Bill looked better when dressed than naked but she bet Freddy would look really hot naked.
And Freddy was a real gentleman. He must have known he could have had her almost from the first, but he wooed her, made her feel wanted and needed, made her feel beautiful and important. He was irresistible. Today she had promised she would give herself to him. She was already wet at the prospect.
They were directed into a large field to park and then walked up through the formal gardens towards the house. She'd had a private tour before, so she knew what to expect but Bill looked staggered. Part of the house was Elizabethan but then every age had added examples of its best until now, with its multiple courtyards and apparently endless wings it seemed more like a fantasy city than a house.
She had told Bill that he needed to be better dressed and he had gone out and bought this black 'Nehru' style suit which, she had to admit, had made him look much sexier and sharper than usual. The event was going to be held in the garden and there were marquees everywhere on the endless lawn. Thank heavens, the weather was good. Summer in Britain was always so chancy but it was going to be a perfect summer's afternoon.
Then they both had a shock. One which left her giggling silently but left him feeling humiliated. The event was being professionally catered by the biggest and best London caterers and every single one of the army of waiters, and waitresses, was wearing a black suit with a 'Nehru' style jacket. Bill was in fancy dress as a waiter! As they walked toward the crowd, be slipped off his jacket and slung it casually over his shoulder.
She on the other hand knew there would not be any woman wearing anything like her dress. She had created the material and designed the dress and she knew it was stunning. Today she fully expected her profile as a designer to be raised in the highest circles. The motif of the design was Celtic but used in an almost Bridget Riley 'optical illusion' style. The patterns subtly enhanced every sexual zone of the body. In black on white the design was blatantly erotic, using bold designs to highlight and optical illusions to flatter and already heads were turning to study her.
The catering was like nothing she had ever seen. Champagne had been offered while they were still walking up from the car park. There was a marquee twenty yards by twenty full of nothing but seafood. There was a portable kitchen like something from the future where little rounds of fillet steak were being cooked and another for fish and chips. Fish and chips? What chippy did you ever go to that served goujons of sole and turbot wrapped a in a cone of pink paper from the Financial Times?
They wandered together a little way past the crowd towards one of the three lakes just to see part of the larger wild garden. They both nearly had a heart attack when, from behind a bush in what appeared to be the middle of a bluebell wood, a waiter stepped out with a tray of champagne. They were so startled they went back to the crowd for safety.
Bill was a shy man who found it difficult to mingle though if he did find someone he could talk to he would get deeply involved in a discussion. She was outgoing, more confident and she would wander around talking to anyone. Fairly soon Bill found a group that was holding his interest so she told him she was going to circulate. Freddy had told her to meet him by the flagpole which, at thirty feet high, no-one could miss.
Bill
He had known ever since the invitation came that today was going to be difficult. Probably the greatest challenge he had ever faced. He wasn't sure exactly when he had begun to fear that Deborah had an interest outside the marriage. He couldn't be sure whether she had already been unfaithful or was yet to surrender. He did know who to. It was the younger son of the family who were holding this party. He doubted that anything would happen today since there were so many guests. So many guests -- yes, so many that perhaps she could slip away into the house or the gardens. Mind you, in that dress she would stand out.
