Free The Would-Begetter by Maggie Makepeace Page B

bedroom carpet while he dressed.
    ‘Yours is quite a small flat, isn’t it?’ she remarked.
    ‘Yes.’ Hector was struggling into his trousers.
    ‘And it’s rather dark. I reckon it could do with a bit of painting up.’
    ‘Mmm. ‘He picked the jersey up off the floor and pulled it over his head.
    ‘I could go over and do it for you, if you like?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Decorating. I’m quite good at it. I did this place all by myself; only finished the lounge a month ago, and it looks nice, doesn’t it?’
    ‘Can’t say I noticed really,’ Hector said, putting on his shoes and doing up the laces. ‘And anyway, I hope I won’t be in that grotty flat for long. I’ll be buying myself a proper house soon. Right!’ He stood up straight. ‘I can’t tell you how muchbetter I feel to be properly dressed again. Now, how about running me to my car?’
    Later as Hector, alone again, drove the Jaguar away from the deserted car park, he squirted the washers and put the wipers on to clear the smoked-glass effect of the previous night’s salt spray, and reached for his car phone to get in touch with his News Editor. I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do, he thought; to Nigel, to the wretched costume hirers, even to Jess, who’s probably been out all night getting epic photos. I only hope Wendy has the sense to keep her mouth shut. I really do not want it noised abroad that she and I…
    A nasty thought struck him. I hope to goodness she isn’t expecting a repeat performance? No, she’ll understand that it was just a one-off office party thing – surely? Now, I must make up for lost time…
    Some months later, Hector would look back on the rest of that day and realise that it had been fate all along. He had been meant to go to the village hall the day
after
the flood, when everyone was beginning to get used to what had happened, and were therefore more open to telling the tale. If he had been there the night before, they would understandably have been tired, wet, cross, scared, and probably in no mood to talk to him. As it was, he got some first rate stuff, but better still, he met the ultimate contender for the rank and position of Mrs H. Mudgeley. She might have been born especially! It was love at first sight; there was no denying it. Hector had never felt quite so carried away by a woman. He didn’t even bother to go through his mental list of ‘essential wifely qualities’. There was no need. She was perfect! I must take care, he admonished himself. I must be… cool… That was the word her son had used, when he had given him his surprisingly articulate account of the drama. Hector thought, now I mustn’t rush things…
    Nevertheless, he found his writing hand was clumsy, making his shorthand even less decipherable than usual, and the hand holding the notebook trembled as he took down her story. She and the boy had been alone in their cottage beside the Levels when the floods had struck. They had been asleep, and then they’d heard the water pouring in. They had no telephone. They’d had to jump from the back bedroom windowon to a shed roof, and from there, climb into the boy’s tree house where they’d waited hours to be rescued. They had no relatives in the area; nowhere else to go…
    ‘It all sounds quite dreadful,’ Hector said to her. ‘You must have been so frightened?’
    ‘No,’ she said, giving him a Mona Lisa smile. ‘I’m never frightened. There’s no point.’
    Wendy looked up hopefully every time someone came in through the swing doors and passed Reception. Hector was never usually this late on a Monday. He couldn’t be ill – he’d been bursting with rude health only the morning before! Wendy smiled to herself, but carefully so that the other girl on the desk with her wouldn’t see and get nosy. There would be plenty of time to talk openly about Hector and herself – maybe when she had a ring to show off? – but in the meantime it was a wonderful secret.
    Only one small