7 Tales of Sex and Betrayal Read Online Free PDF

something for which she might be grateful.
    ‘What a pity he’s just a pretty face,’ she
said out loudly to herself.
    She would have given her eyeteeth to see
that expression on his face again.

 
    Suspicion: 1978 style
    Sally thanked the operator and looked at the
number she had jotted down on the pad next to the phone. It had
been easy. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? The idea had come
to her in the shower that morning. She had read somewhere that
creative thoughts come to you when you least expect them. How true
this had been in her case.
    Kevin had only referred to his personal
assistant by her first name and Sally had been cautious about
appearing too curious, or worse still, suspicious. But she now knew
the name of the other woman in Kevin’s life. `The other woman’ she
repeated out loud to herself and gave a mirthless laugh.
    With mixed feelings she had dialed Kevin’s
work number knowing she would hear his receptionist’s voice. Her
plan had worked beautifully. Muffling her voice, she mumbled
uncharacteristically, asking for his personal assistant. On cue,
the receptionist replied cheerfully, ‘Oh, you must be after Judy
Spring’, and Sally hung up. What a name! It sounded too young and
joyful, probably just the way Judy was, thought Sally bitterly.
    The day had dragged terribly, but it was now
7 p.m. and Sally was psyching herself up. She paced the living
room, too excited to sit down. She stood by the window for a
moment, staring down at the street below. The people walking along
the pavement looked tiny, insignificant, almost like ants from
where she was standing. They were people she didn’t know, whose
lives would never touch hers, people who lived and laughed, ate,
drank and made love. But they weren’t suffering as she now suffered
at the thought of her husband in another’s woman’s arms.
    ‘Settle down Sally!’ she told herself. She
recognised the hysteria which lay just below the surface of her
mind. She suddenly felt the pain of her tapered red fingernails
digging into the palm of her hands. But the pain was nothing
compared with her jealousy. It confused her, tormented her, and
consumed her. Jealousy now made the blood pump furiously in her
forehead. She would take aspirins later. Right now, she needed a
drink and then she would ring.
    She downed the cocktail too quickly, but
felt a rush of confidence with the act. She was ready. There was no
need to refer to the message pad. She knew the number. With
trembling fingers she dialed and got a wrong number. She laughed
nervously as someone from Chan’s Restaurant answered. This time
with meticulous care she dialed again.
    ‘568-000. Hello?’ said a female voice at the
other end. It was a husky, educated voice. Sally caught her
breath.
    ‘Can Kevin Wilson take a personal call from
London?’ Sally was pleased with her accent, which could well belong
to a London telephone operator. She had chosen London because
Kevin’s sister lived there.
    ‘Please hold on,’ came the reply.
    Sally could hear her breath coming faster as
she heard the other woman’s voice, `Kevin – call for you from
London.’
    There was no need for her to hear his voice.
She knew he was there, and with her. But Sally hung on to hear his
calm voice identifying himself, `Kevin Wilson speaking.’
    Momentarily she was lost for words. Then she
heard herself speaking in a cool voice, a voice which didn’t betray
the intense emotional reaction his voice evoked.
    ‘Hello Kevin. I’m ringing to make sure
you’re there.’
    ‘What the hell ... Sally! It is you isn’t
it?’ He sounded surprised – and guilty.
    ‘Yes, it’s me. Goodbye Kevin,’ and she hung
up before he could say any more. Sinking into the couch, Sally
became aware of sweat breaking out all over her skin. She had taken
the fatal step. But what lay ahead?
    The shrill ring of the telephone jolted her
back to reality. She knew it was Kevin and let it ring itself into
silence. He would want to