Page 9 of Wife After Wife
“Harry, old boy!”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Charles looking across the bar at Bennie, who had just rolled her eyes. “Chatting up the barmaid as per? Mine’s a pint, if you’d be so kind.”
“This your friend?” said Bennie.
“Meet Charles. He lives in Clapham,” said Harry, and they shared a grin.
“What’s the joke?” said Charles.
“Bennie here seems to think I’m posh,” said Harry. “Tell her I’m just your average chap, will you, Charles? Are the girls here?”
“Not yet. Cass rang—they’re running late. Couldn’t get a taxi.”
Over the music system, the Pet Shop Boys were singing about West End girls and East End boys, and Bennie was mouthing along to the words. She passed Charles his beer. “Youareposh boys. Where did you go to school?”
“Don’t tell her,” said Charles, entering into the spirit. “Where didyougo to school?”
“The local comp. That meanscom-pree-hen-sive, by the way.”
“Baha! Bet you had a better time than we did, eh, Harry?”
“Well,” said Bennie, “I suppose we didn’t have cold baths, or get whipped or bug—”
“I’ll have you know, things have moved on a bit since Dickens,” said Charles.
“Have they?” said Harry. “Were you not whipped, Charles?”
“Well?Wereyou, Chaaarles?” added Bennie, imitating Harry’s drawl.
“The cane was Mr. Fotherington’s punishment of choice,” said Charles. “He gave great cane. Really enjoyed himself. Nothing like a good spanking, what?”
“Oh my god, public schools are so perverted. Why would anyone send a precious child to one?” said Bennie.
“It’s what put the Great in Britain, sweetheart,” said Charles. “Loaded us with pluck and fortitude.”
“Fuck’s sake.”
“Hello, Charles, Harry.”
Harry noticed Bennie’s eyes slide down to his arm, which Katie had just hooked her hand under.
“Nice talking to you...chaps,” she said with a grin, before moving off down the bar.
“Hello,” Harry said, kissing Katie’s cheek. “Drink?”
“I think the barmaid’s gone. Must’ve been something I said,” replied Katie. “Having fun, were you?”
The possessive tone wasn’t like Katie. It was just a bit of banter with a barmaid, for god’s sake.
“Yes, actually. Shewasfun.”
The implication hung in the air.
He caught the hurt in Katie’s eyes, and guilt rushed in. She was looking lovely tonight. He’d become used to seeing her in overalls as she rubbed down a piece of pine furniture or rag-rolled another wall on her mission to create the perfect home. Tonight, a leaf-green cashmere jumper with a string of pearls set off her creamy complexion, and her blue eyes were accentuated by a tasteful touch of mascara. Her shiny dark red hair was clipped loosely back, and a dab of gloss made her lips gleam in the cozy pub lighting.
He draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, kissing her hair. “You look gorgeous. Actually, you too, Cass.”
“You three, Harry,” said Cassandra with a grin.
