office only a few months ago, and I helped sort out a
major tax problem for them. Do you have his phone number with you?"
"It's in my brief case, in the car."
"Go and get it, I've got an idea."
Cyril followed Grant into the hall, and took the business
card when he returned. "You go and chat to the girls, and I'll give Mr.
Robertson a quick call."
Grant went back to the sitting room, closing the door before
sitting down. The two glanced at him, but didn't speak as they were too busy
with knitting patterns.
As he sat there, wondering what Cyril was saying on the phone,
and hoping he would come in with some good news, he looked at his wife. The
only words she'd spoken directly to him since the lipstick episode, was when
they were alone for a few minutes and she said, "I'm disgusted with your
behaviour, Grant, and want to see some marked improvement in the next few
weeks."
He dutifully hung his head, saying, "I'm sorry, sweetheart,
but Joyce kissed me and I couldn't…"
"That's enough; you can stop right there. It's always
somebody else's fault. Yesterday morning you blamed my mother for kissing you,
and now you blame Joyce for kissing you. What are you—a man so attractive that
women throw themselves at you?"
"No, not at all, but I…"
"Grant, from what I've seen today, and on other days, you
are more to blame than anybody else. You lead on my mother, and now you've
started on my new friend, and I tell you it has to stop. Right now, okay?"
He could see that further protestations of his innocence, or
arguments would be useless, and his best plan was to agree, so he said, "I'm
sorry it's upset you, sweetheart, I promise it will never happen again."
"What also annoys me no end," said April, who dismissed his
apology with an angry wave of her hand, "Is that you seem to be going after
women twice my age. What is it, don't you love me anymore?" She dabbed a
handkerchief at her eyes, which welled up with large tears as she looked right
at him and said, "Don't you find me attractive; the way you used to when we
first married?"
"Of course I do, darling, I guess it's just the pressure of
work."
"Well, that's another thing you better sort out very soon,
before our whole world collapses in ruin. We're living with my mother, driving
hours each day in the car, and spending money instead of making it, and I'm fed
up with it all." The tears gushed again, but when he went to console her she
pushed him away and rushed out of the room.
He watched her now, chatting about knitting with Joyce as if
she hadn't a care in the world. Through the door he could faintly hear Cyril's
deep voice on the phone, and he crossed his fingers, hoping for a rapid change
of luck that would change his life.
Cyril's voice rose, then went quiet. The women stopped their
chatter and as the door opened they all turned to look at Cyril. His face was
stern as he closed the door and took his earlier seat next to April, ignoring
the chessboard on the coffee table. He patted April on her knee and said,
"Everything is going to be alright, so hide that frown and put a smile on your
face."
Turning towards Grant he said, "Ron asked that you call on
him at 10:00 a.m. with the forms and they will complete the contract and pay
the deposit."
Grant jumped to his feet and went over to shake Cyril's
hand. "Wow, that's fantastic, thank you so very much. You just don't know how
much it means to me."
He took a quick step back as Cyril turned back to April, who
flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. She pulled back her
head to say to him, "You are a wonderful man, thank you, thank you, thank you."
With each ‘thank you' she gave him another resounding kiss, to the stage where
it was getting almost embarrassing.
He did not know what to do, and was so pleased when Joyce
came to his rescue by getting up and going over to Cyril and put her arms
around them both, and kissed them each on the cheek a couple of