Capital Sins Read Online Free PDF Page A

her enough in the first place to allow herself to be chatted up. He didn't seem to mind that the girl beside him was now being
somewhat unsociable after a great start, or was suddenly morose and deep in her
own thoughts. Why should he, as long as she was willing? And
certainly not while he had his hand on her knee anyway – and she didn't look as
if she cared what was happening.
    Sheila was,
in fact, now barely aware of the man, or his groping fist. She had escaped from
her silent flat and thoughts to have a quiet drink among some human company.
She thought she'd go crazy if she didn't stop thinking about Sam Jessop –
always Sam, she thought with exasperation – and who cared if she had company
while she got herself soused? She didn't drink often, only resorted to alcohol
very occasionally when things seemed as if they were too much to bear. In the
office sometimes, Sheila wanted to scream at him, 'Look at me, Sam. I'm a
woman, not a bloody machine! I know you want a wife, so why in hell's name
can't you consider me for once?' But she couldn't do that, wouldn't shock him,
and now Sheila tipped the glass again to her lips, only to find it empty. Her
eyes were red from lack of sleep, too much smoke, the whisky in her brain – and
her vision was unfocused.
    She banged
the glass on the counter. She felt very relaxed now, almost released by her
unnatural behaviour. She should let her hair down more often.
    The man
slid his arm around her waist. 'Hey, baby,' he laughed. 'You wanna go easy on that stuff.'
    Sheila
swivelled her head and concentrated on his nose, which was quite large and
slightly hooked, with black hairs sprouting from the wide nostrils. Her lip
curled in distaste, but he merely grinned broadly, increasing the pressure of
his arm meaningfully.
    'You'll be
no good for anything if you carry on boozing,' he warned, laughing at her
indignant expression.
    ' Wanna get sloshed,' Sheila said indistinctly, leaning back
against his chest. ' Wanna forget myself... be happy,
yes?'
    'Sure,
sure, but don't pass out in here,' he man replied comfortably. ' Lookie here, why don't I buy us a bottle
and we'll take it somewhere cosy and drink it together like old pals. What do you say to that, eh?'
    She nodded
vigorously, her brown hair flapping against his cheek.
    'Good,' she
declared, then backed away, looking suspicious.
'You're not him ... who are you? I don't know you,' she said accusingly.
'What's your name?'
    'Harvey, sweetheart. Just call me Harvey.' Without further ado, he lifted her off the stool,
pressing his hands indelicately on her breasts, and clicked his fingers to
summon the waiter.
    'Where we going?' Her speech was slurred as she wavered in his arms.
    ' Your flat?'
    'Yes, my
flat ... that's another good idea, Har ... Harvey.
You can ... can call me Betty, if you want... call me
anything you want... '
    'Anything
you say, baby.'
    '... And... and I'll call you... call
you Sam.'
    As they
made love in her bed later, the man thought the tears in her eyes were for him
because she was having such a great time, but Sheila was crying for herself.

 
    Not too far
from there, in a penthouse suite, Samuel Jessop was lying in his king-sized
bed, brooding. He had just paid a high-class whore a princely sum to get him
excited but the whole thing had been a failure, an utter disaster; as usual. He
took a sleeping pill before he could drowse off.

 
    Connie
looked at the alarm clock on the chair beside her bed. Twelve-thirty,
and not even tired. Too much excitement probably. She heard noises suddenly on the landing outside her door and, pulling her
dressing-gown closer, she tiptoed stealthily across
the floor and opened the door slightly. She was confronted by a girl's back.
The girl was obviously searching in her handbag to find the key to her room,
opposite Connie's. She hadn't seen Connie but suddenly she turned around,
revealing a pretty, pert face smudged and blotchy with make-up.
    '' Ello ,' she said chirpily. Just then,