- a free online novel Rob Hopcott

Chapter 05

Carolyn leaned forward in her plush seat as the large house came into the view at the end of the long drive. The Bentley slowed through the large wrought-iron gates, which opened automatically to allow the stately car through. Carolyn had taken time to look at her best. She knew she'd succeeded from the look the chauffeur gave her outside her home. The journey had taken half an hour in easy traffic and through the green Surrey countryside. Carolyn checked her elegant wristwatch; the time was exactly six o'clock.

The chauffeur opened the door. As she stepped out, the owner of the mansion came down the steps to welcome her. He was a man in his early '60s with a broad face, a military moustache and an intelligent smile.

"Welcome, my dear," he said. "Dressed like that, I'm glad we're going somewhere really special."

"I'm intrigued already," said Carolyn.

"I don't really know the protocol in situations like this," he said. "Do we shake hands?"

"I think I am permitted to give you a little kiss of welcome on the cheek," said Carolyn, leaning forward. "And you can call me Carolyn and I shall call you Gerald."

Gerald leaned down slightly so that Carolyn could plant the tiniest of pecks on his cheek. Carolyn wondered if he thought her simple, low cut black dress and whiff of her most expensive scent matched the perfection and elegance of the Bentley and the tall pillars to each side of the front door.

He showed her into a palatial hall and they paused to admire the paintings. Gerald saw that the chauffeur was still hovering in the background.

"Seymour, get yourself a drink in the kitchen and we'll leave for the restaurant in half an hour. I'll sort us out some drinks in the lounge." His voice had a natural authority.

They turned right into a large room filled with the sort of objet d'art that any multinational auctioneer would die for.

"You certainly have a beautiful house," said Carolyn.

"My lifelong hobby has been collecting," said Gerald. "In fact it's more than a hobby, its almost an obsession. It comes before family and friends. As time went by, I would work for money to buy paintings and objet and, as everything got more expensive, I had to work harder. It left little time for anything else, rather out on a limb you might say. Hence my interest in your dating agency. But I didn't expect to get the proprietor on my first date."

"Sometimes," said Carolyn, "a girl is entitled to take advantage of her position."

"And I can say with confidence that I am most happy that you have," he said, charmingly.

Carolyn walked across the deep pile carpet to the French Windows at the end. The large room was filled of antiques and collected the sun. It was a collector's room with each item fitting in perfectly. It was a room designed to contain art and designed artfully to display the art at its best.

Gerald joined her by the window, handing her a gin and tonic. He had the walk of an older man, slow, measured, almost lumbering. He made Carolyn feel very young. Together they looked down the garden past the sweeping flowerbeds to the lake below.

"You must have worked very hard to achieve all this," she said.

"I had the advantage of some family money and then made some right decisions and had some luck," said Gerald. "The person I bought this from had the reverse experience. For every person going up, there is somebody else going down. My asset is that its always the others that are on their way down."

"Like my ex," said Carolyn, sadly. "He was a farmer not a business man. He had a way of life and worked hard."

"Are you divorced?"

"No, when the Bank came to repossess, he shot himself. I should have been there with him. Perhaps I could have stopped him. Instead, I was with the children at my mothers where we had gone to stay because we had nowhere else. He said he was too ashamed to carry on but it wasn't his fault. The Bank suckered him into loans for expansion he didn't need and squeezed him with high interest rates as the recession deepened until they got everything he had ever worked for. I found out later that they could have lowered the interest rate quite easily to enable him to carry on, but the way they played it they piled on lots of extra charges for late payment and in the end they got the farm lock stock and barrel. That way they made more money for their shareholders."

Gerald smiled.

"After all, the employees of the Bank work for the shareholders and not for the people they sell loans to," he said. It was obvious his sympathies lay with the Bank.

"Unfortunately, nobody told my husband that. He trusted them to give him the best deal."

"You can't protect people from themselves," said Gerald, unsympathetically, "so what did you do then."

Carolyn bit back a very angry retort and continued evenly.

"Well, luckily the kids were almost ready to go to College. That was nearly five years ago and I don't see much of them now. My mother died soon after and left me the house, which is where I run my business from and make a small living. It's nothing as palatial as this, though."

Gerald beamed at her compliment.

"It is too big for me, of course, but I have to entertain wealthy international clients who are used to palaces and luxury. They like it here and feel they are with an equal so it makes business easier."

The amiable smile for a fleeting moment gave way to the impassive stare of a serious businessman as his mind turned to more serious matters.

"I must be careful," thought Carolyn. "Nobody's fool."

She held up her glass to propose a toast.

To making the right decisions, "she said, with a feeling of tension in her throat.

"The right decisions, "said Gerald.

Carolyn wondered whether she had made it the right decision half an hour later when the Bentley turned left through the gates of a private airfield.

"Gerald, where on earth are you taking me?" She said it in a joking voice although she really was feeling concerned. Gerald exuded a feeling of power. It was easy to feel that he was like a spider pulling her to the centre of his web. She didn't feel in control.

The Bentley pulled over beside a small aeroplane and the chauffeur came round to open the back door for her.

"Trust me," said Gerald. "It's a small flight but worth the effort when we get there."

"Worth it for whom?" A slight edge had crept into Carolyn's voice.

"Worth it for you, my dear," Gerald said, expensively. "And for you I want only the best."

The small aircraft pulled away strongly from the runway, leaving Carolyn's stomach well behind as she tried to avoid showing too much leg in the cramped seating area. The journey lasted less than half an hour with Gerald keeping up a monologue about places of interest on the way from towers that were follies to bridges and historical buildings. His knowledge was encyclopaedic and he got great pleasure from showing it off. Worried as she was, at being suddenly whisked away, Carolyn quickly became absorbed in his narrative and was almost surprised when the small aeroplane started to descend towards a small field near some open moor land.

"It's not a proper airstrip," explained Gerald, "but as long as it's used occasionally, the owner of the land seems to be able to get away with it. If he applied for planning permission, no doubt all hell would break loose."

There was a taxi waiting where the aircraft came to a halt so that they could avoid the muddy dirt of the airfield. Gerald was obviously a very organised person.

"Where exactly are we," she said.

"The in the heart of Exmoor," said Gerald. "Just over there is the Doone Valley."

"You mean as in the famous book?"

"The very same!"

The hedgerow was very high and speckled with Primroses and small blue flowers that Carolyn couldn't name. The road twisted and turned for another fifteen minutes until it came to the brow of a hill and revealed a small valley beyond. In the hollow of this tiny valley, lay a white stoned public house. In the evening light, Carolyn could just see a stream winding its way past the hostelry and off into the distance. There was Wisteria climbing in profusion across the entrance to the Inn and an old hand water pump, long disused, slumbered in front by some crumbling wooden seats.

"It's wonderful," breathed Carolyn.

"When I find a place like this, I like to come back to it again and again," said Gerald.

"You say that almost as if you had collected the place," Carolyn said.

Gerald looked sideways at her, almost secretively.

"I cannot just pass things be past and forgotten. A wonderful experience become part of me and I want to savour it again and again."

His arm was laid casually across the back of the taxi's seat and his hand now gently touched Carolyn's bushy fair hair and then the side of her face. Carolyn felt her pulse racing knowing she would have to work to keep him under control.

However, she was reassured when Gerald turned to the taxi driver and said:

"Could you be here at eleven o'clock to take us back to the aeroplane?"

"I can't myself, but my brother takes over the taxi at ten o'clock. He does the night run and he'll see you all right."

The drivers voice was soft and deep with a Somerset brogue.

The ceiling inside was very low and the proprietor was very attentive. He was expecting them and led them to a tiny table at the far end of the restaurant where there was a small conservatory. The table looked out on a small back garden with concealed lighting. Carolyn nodded her appreciation.

"I think you might be interested in the fish menu. You mentioned that you like fish on the phone," said Gerald.

Carolyn quizzically raised an eyebrow.

"Is there anything you don't think of?" she said, laughing.

"Well for 40 years I haven't thought about family," said Gerald, seriously. "Of course, now I'm aiming to rectify even that."

"I hope you are not expecting to do anything about that tonight," said Carolyn, firmly. It was time she started to lay down the law.

Gerald leaned across the table and took her small hands inside his large strong ones. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his voice serious.

"There's no rush," he said, "But if I wait for too long, my time will be gone.

This outburst brought on an uncomfortable silence between them relieved only when a young girl appeared besides the table to take the order.

"I think I'll have the salmon," Carolyn said, perusing the menu and glad to change the subject.

"And I'll have a steak, medium rare, please," said Gerald. "A man of my age need to keep up his energy," he said, peering at Carolyn over his glasses. Carolyn felt that perhaps after all the subject of his dynasty had not completely gone away.

However, the conversation lightened up after that. The topic of conversation turned to a game of 'perfect places'. Carolyn had travelled widely and for a while kept pace with Gerald but ultimately couldn't match his extensive repertoire. Holidays, restaurants, even perfect sports experiences, Gerald had them all. There came a point when she stopped feeling envious and started to feel irritated. It crossed her mind that perhaps this was the way that he had always driven prospective partners away. Surely, in the face of all his perfection, would he not require that a partner be perfect too? And when he discovered that his partner was merely human, would he lose interest? Carolyn thought she knew the answer to that already.

Gerald chose a heavy Italian Barolo wine to go with his steak and insisted that Carolyn tried a light French rose wine to go with her fish. It was delicious, although, strangely, this irritated Carolyn even more.

Dessert was delicate truffles and a light Somerset cheese with a vintage cider liqueur.

A small band started to play in the main part of the restaurant and Carolyn was relieved to be able to stand up and get some exercise to dissipate the growing warmth she felt throughout her body. Gerald danced well and held her close, but with a formality that Carolyn welcomed. At one point, Carolyn caught the eye of a young man sitting at the end of the bar. He was more Carolyn's age and Carolyn wondered what he thought of her as she danced so closely with this man who could be her father.

At eleven o'clock exactly, the landlord called out that their taxi had arrived and held the door open for them to climb aboard. Then the darkness swallowed them up until the small field came again into view where the aeroplane was waiting with its humming technology and bright lights.

In minutes they were airborne and looking out over the side at the twinkling lights of Salisbury and Winchester as they climbed into the sky.

"That was very nice indeed," said Carolyn, leaning back with a sigh. "You can take me back there any time you like."

"It was a great pleasure to have someone appreciative to share it with," said Gerald. His hand lay over hers on the armrest between them and his fingers gave hers a small squeeze.

They passed the rest of the flight in silence. But, this time, it was a comfortable silence by tacit mutual agreement.

The Bentley was waiting and was soon cruising through the quiet Surrey roads in the direction of Carolyn's house. When they arrived, Gerald got out and held the door open for her.

"I won't invite you in on this occasion," Carolyn said quietly as she got out. From the way he was holding the door, he already had his arm half way round her. "But I would really like to give you a present to thank you. Will you accept this from me - as a memento of our 'perfect' evening together?" Carolyn pushed against his chest a small mobile telephone.

"It's a WAP phone - the very latest. You said that you were not into computers but it will enable you to surf the net with ease wherever you are. You can admire my new web site as it comes online and it's pre-programmed with my private number if you get lonely," she said coyly.

"You are very kind, my dear," said Gerald, smiling with surprise, slipping it into his pocket, "I'll treasure it - and this moment."

It was the cue, Carolyn knew, for the mandatory good night kiss and, trying not to think what it would be like, she tilted up her face to him. Gerald's lips were even fleshier than she expected and the kiss seemed to last for ever. Aggressively, he pushed himself close to her so she could feel his physical attraction. Finally, she managed to disengage, but then there was still the long slow waist-hugging walk to the front door with its unspoken question of whether it would admit both of them? Another long goodnight kiss with its last opportunity for first fleeting touches of intimacy that made her body crawl. Then, at long last, the safety of her house as the Bentley purred into the distance. She leaned against the front door, weak with relief, shaking and breathless.

Mike appeared from the shadows.

"How did it go," he said.

"He's got the phone," was her only reply.

Mike shook his head with relief.

So its my turn next tomorrow. Lets hope I can do as well as you.

And with that he went off home.

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Unwelcome Paradise by Rob Hopcott is copyright   2001, All rights are reserved. All characters are fictitious in this story and no reference is intended to any person living or otherwise.

I hope you enjoy 'Unwelcome Paradise'.      Rob

- a free online novel Rob Hopcott