Now or Never. PENNY JORDAN
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as an instructor, flying only as a relief pilot when necessary, which was what he had recently been doing.
‘Don’t you ever worry about him … I mean, mixing with all those air stewardesses?’ She was asked that question so many times over the years that she had her response off pat. A smile, a gentle laugh and small shake of her head. But of course she worried. Especially in the early years of their marriage. Stuart was after all a highly sexed man. But he was also a man who showed in many different ways that he loved her.
This house, for instance, that he insisted on buying when they first knew that her second pregnancy was twins. She was horrified at the cost of it—a very large detached house, set in its own immense garden, with an adjacent paddock. She protested that they could not possibly afford it, but Stuart was equally insistent that he wanted them to have it.
When the twins arrived, Stuart changed his own expensive car for a much smaller model and bought her a top-of-the-range four-wheel drive so that she could transport the children in comfort and safety. Zoë’s riding lessons and her pony and all the other extracurricular activities the children wanted, Stuart paid for without complaint. The allowance he insisted on giving her was a generous one, and the presents he brought her back from his trips drew the envious admiration of her friends.
No, Stuart never neglected her either in bed or out of it, something for which, if the stories she heard from other women were to be believed, she ought to be extremely grateful. And of course she was.
But the house, the allowance, the car, all of them were things she sometimes felt she would gladly have bartered just for the opportunity to sit down with Stuart and talk to him, to have her opinions sought and valued, to feel that he regarded her as an equal partner in their relationship, and that she mattered to him not because she was his wife, but because she was herself!
He was in the kitchen when she walked in, still an extraordinarily handsome man, his thick once-blond hair silver-grey now, the reading glasses he still pretended he did not really need adding an extra touch of subtle sexuality to his features. He always had been and always would be the kind of man who drew women’s glances, and, although he might deny it, Alice knew that there was that little touch of vanity in his make-up that meant that he needed their female recognition of his maleness.
As he saw her he shuffled the papers he had been reading and stood up.
‘Have you been in long?’ Alice asked.
‘A couple of hours. When I realised it was your night out with the others, I went down to the gym for an hour.’
Unlike her, Stuart was something of a gym fanatic, his body still lean and muscular. Alice had at one stage endeavoured to become more exercise conscious, but Stuart had laughed at her, refusing to take her seriously.
‘I love you just the way you are,’ he had told her fondly, spoiling his compliment slightly by adding, ‘Every single bit of you!’
He looked tired, Alice recognised, but diplomatically she did not say so. She had learned early on in their relationship that Stuart hated to admit to any kind of vulnerability or weakness, no matter how small. She suspected that this had a lot to do with the fact that his father had been a high-achieving, very macho man, a Second World War fighter pilot, decorated for bravery and revered by his wife and Stuart’s three older sisters. Stuart had been reared in a family where his maleness had elevated him to almost godlike status, but the price for this had been that he’d never been allowed to show himself as mortal.
Her own father had fought in the same war, but the experience had affected his nerves in some way, and Alice could remember her mother’s constant anxiety that Alice did not make too much noise or do anything that might upset her father, around whom their small household had revolved every bit as much as Stuart’s had revolved around his.
To some extent Alice knew that she and Stuart had repeated this pattern. Stuart’s job had meant that when he had been at home there had been times when she had automatically kept the children away from him so that he could catch up on his sleep. Times when she had in a number of small ways protected Stuart from the children and the children from him!
So, rather than commenting on his tiredness, and mindful of the news she had to give him about her plans, she said instead, ‘I’m glad you’ve got some leave days now—’
‘I wish!’ Stuart interrupted her grimly. ‘I’ve got a series of meetings coming up in the city.’
He had his back to her as he was speaking and Alice suddenly had the feeling that for some reason he didn’t want her to see his face. A tiny sharp spike of unease touched her, like the beginnings of an unwanted spot, as yet unseen, but still felt beneath the outer skin.
And yet there was no reason for her to feel like that. Stuart was frequently away on business after all. Perhaps it was because she had been building herself up to telling him about her OU plans, waiting for the right moment. Yes, that was probably what it was, she reassured herself.
‘How long do you think you will be away?’
‘For heaven’s sake, Alice, I just don’t know. As long as it takes, however long that is. What is this anyway? What’s all the fuss about?’
His irritation made her clench her stomach muscles defensively.
‘I wasn’t making a fuss,’ Alice protested. ‘It’s just that … Well, there was something I wanted to discuss with you.’
‘If it’s about that idiot you hired who claimed he was a gardener, then we don’t need to discuss anything. Sack him.’
‘Stuart, it isn’t about the garden! It’s—it’s about me!’
Now that she had his attention, Alice felt her apprehension increasing.
‘You?’ He was frowning. ‘What do you mean it’s about you? Look, Alice, can’t we leave this for another time? Right now the last thing I want or need is an in-depth discussion on anything!’
He was getting annoyed, Alice recognised silently, registering all the tell-tale signs.
Her heart sank, but she was not going to back down.
‘No, we can’t leave it, I’m afraid, Stuart. It’s too important for that. I … I’ve enrolled for an Open University degree course.’
‘What?’
He was, Alice noticed, staring at her blankly, as though he hadn’t properly taken in what she had said.
‘I thought you said it was something important,’ he challenged her. ‘For God’s sake, Alice! Don’t you ever listen to anything I say? I’ve just told you that I’m up to my eyes in it at work and you’re prattling on about some blasted college course.’
Alice could feel her stomach muscles clenching, but not this time with tension. She very seldom got angry, it just wasn’t in her nature, but right now …
‘You don’t mind, then?’ she asked him quietly.
‘Mind?’ He gave a brief, almost contemptuous shrug. ‘I don’t really see the point, but it’s your choice.’
‘Yes,’ Alice agreed even more quietly. ‘It is.’
Changing the subject, she questioned, ‘You said you could be away for a few days?’
‘Yes.’ Stuart had turned away from her and was reshuffling his papers. His voice sounded muffled and strained.
‘It’s the way things are these days, Alice. It’s something to do with a new policy decision. Even you must surely be aware of the changes the aviation industry is undergoing? The pressures on it? I mean, you do read something in the papers, don’t you, other than the women’s pages? God knows we get enough of them, judging by the bill.’
Alice stared at his white-shirt-covered back, the words of rebuttal and anger log-jamming in her throat in their furious need to be heard, but protectively she held them back.
Stuart