THE SON OF BOMALLY

 

                                                                Chapter Five

                                                        The perfect woman

 

It took Richard many weeks of searching before he found the girl he was looking for, but as the world entered into the new millennium, he found her.

          Rebecca Carr; a rising but as yet little known actress.  Possessed of a beauty so perfect that it was hardly possible to believe.  She had been born into a well off family, and her parents had seen to it that her education was complete including finishing and social etiquette.  At school, and later at the university she was enthusiastic in all her endeavours, and anxious to lean about anything and everything.  Inevitably she sailed through her exams, taking all before her, and she joined and enjoyed many of the various societies.  Not only those that exercised the mind, but also those that exercised the body.  By the time that part of her life was over her keen brain, and penetrating intellect, had won her an honour’s degree.

          "Perfect!" thought Richard, echoing the sentiments of most of the people who knew her, but for different reasons. She was everything his father wanted in a woman, and while all of the young ladies he had introduced to him during the last year had some of the qualities he liked, none of them had them all.  Not until Becky!  He knew that once they met he would find her irresistible.

          The only problem was Lydia.  It had never occurred to Richard that his father might want to marry one of his girls, not least one he had found for himself, but he had a plan which ought to solve that problem.

          He was sure that Becky was indeed perfect, for as well as all her qualities she did have an ‘Achilles Heel’, and it was one which Richard was perfectly placed to exploit.

          She was addicted the theatre!

          Of all the activities she had tried during her time in education, the one that had captured her inner self, had been the to do with the stage.  Amateur dramatics. She was stage-struck. So much so, that when a career in law or finance, or anything she fancied would have been hers for the asking, all she could think of was the theatre.  And so, while she had not yet turned her back on a certain and glittering commercial future, the uncertain glitter of the stage held her fast. The world of dark and shade as well as the bright lights and greasepaint, had strange effect on her. It was a world of mystery and intrigue both on and off the stage. It was also a world which, she was to discover, she shared with Richard.

          Richard's star was high, with success and influence, his stature growing with each theatrical venture. Rebecca Carr on the other hand was unknown, waiting, hoping, for that big break which would launch her career. It was two years on since her and fame had not yet found her. Small roles kept the dream alive that the next one might be the one but agents and producers somehow could not see beyond her beauty. Though she had been pursued and seduced by many of these people who promised the world before they got her into bed - then promptly forgot her - nothing had come her way. Sadly she discovered that in a world where beautiful women  was the norm, outstanding beauty rated only slightly higher. To most of the men with power and influence she was just the next one in the line.     

          She was partly to blame for this attitude for she had believed that by making herself available in this way she might gain some advantage.  It took time to learn that lesson, but still she would fall for a convincing line.  It was not surprising therefore that Rebecca was a little wary, when Richard started to show an interest in her.  Flattered and optimistic of course, but cautious even though she felt he did seem a little different to the producers she had met so far.  Most of them just wanted to get into her pants, so she could not know that David's interest in her was far for more sinister than the others.  It was true that most of them, quite simply wanted nothing more than sex.  So how could she know that it was not her body that Richard wanted but her mind. Neither could she know that he would soon cast a 'Svengalian' spell over her.

          Rebecca was a strange mixture of things.  Beautiful without doubt; long blonde hair, a flawless fair skin, and eyes that reflected the blue of the sky, or the green of the sea.

          Her voice was what she wanted it be.  Light and frothy, dark and sensuous, or thin and cruel, and her ability to mimic, made her perfect for any role.  Away from the stage or the camera, she was a quiet, but well adjusted young lady, confident of her ability, but not pushy.  Her natural voice, when not required to conform to a writers imagination, or a directors inventiveness, retained its own character, with the tiniest hint of the north east, inherited from her parents, before they moved south.

          So it was that Rebecca Sandra Carr was about to enter a new phase in her life.  Astonishingly, even with all her attributes, she had not yet found the role or the place to make her bid for fame and fortune.  But then she met Richard Bomally, renowned producer and director in the West End theatre, and all that was about to change. She had believed it to bea chance encounter, there being no reason for her to believe otherwise.

          “Come and meet my friend Richard Bomally”, she had been entreated by a fellow actor cum director when this famous London theatre man had ‘chanced’ to call into the film studio, where Rebecca had a small part in a commercial shoot.

          It was an informal introduction, with no pretence at anything else, a smile and a handshake.

          “Nice to meet you Rebecca; Jeremy tell me you are very talented,” he smiled “how is it we haven’t heard of you yet?”

          “Thank you Mr Bomally, you’re very kind.”

          “Richard to my friends” and then he moved forward just a little “please call me Richard.”

          It was just a small movement, but it was enough, with the slight lowering of his voice to create just a touch of intimacy.  Rebecca was of course pleased and flattered to be included as a ‘friend’, and Richards charm soon had her forgetting his rather ugly features.

          “Please call me Becky, everyone else does.”

          Richard remained on the set during the shoot, and was very complimentary about her performance. “I’m sure you can do better for yourself than this, and I’m sure I can find you a part in my next play.  Why don’t you give me a call?”

          Then he was on his way.

          Rebecca was dreaming.  Was this what she had waited for?  Would this be her big break?

          It was certainly a momentous day for Rebecca Sandra Carr.  Her life was about to change in a way that she could not imagine. Had she known she would have run a mile. But she did not run and her life would never be the same again.

​

                                                                                   -oOo-

At last Richard had found the Delila who would bring down his father, and like Sampson take his world crashing with him. Spurred on by his long held and ever growing sense of hate and injustice against him, and now increasingly mirrored toward his brother, he wanted to show them, and he wanted revenge.  Why he believed that they were plotting against him, who can say?  But reason and normality were factors which Richard had lost sight of long ago.  His powerful, yet carefully concealed personality, which he used to ensnare and control people, was applied to Rebecca and soon she was totally in his power.  As a bait, some well chosen introductions to theatre and film friends had opened up knew opportunities for her, for which she was grateful and she felt that she was making the break she had long yearned for.

           Rebecca felt indebted to Richard for this and soon his power over her was complete, for in spite of anything else, he was the only man of ‘real’ substance that she had met in their wonderful world, who had actually kept his promise.  But inevitably, for after all he was still a man, and she was a most beautiful woman, not only did he take control of her mind, she did, of necessity, became his sex slave, responding to his needs where‑ever, and whenever he wanted.

          This was of course part of the plan, to use her and totally dominate her for as long as it suited him.  She mistook this for love, but Richard had quite a different view.  For in keeping her happy, and with just enough success to keep her cheerful and optimistic, she remained totally committed to him

          Richard's plan was as old as the hills, and a simple one.  He planned to use Rebecca to set father and son against each other for the sake of a woman's favour.  It amused him to compare them to the animals in the wild.   It would be, he thought, as nature intended.  For this has always been the natural way in the animal world ‑ contests between the males ‑ survival of the fittest, winner takes the female.  But in this microcosm of the planet, nature would need a little help.  Rebecca must play her part without knowing why, and the two men must be stirred to the highest levels of passion and lust.

          It was at a party to celebrate Christmas, and the new century, that Richard introduced Rebecca to his family.  First to his father, though to him he described her as an up and coming actress in his theatre company, but not as his girl friend.  He had carefully prepared her for this over time, extolling his father’s every virtue, exaggerating his strengths, even adding a few that didn't exist, so that she had a high opinion of him before they met. 

          He had told her that his father was in a relationship that he wanted to end, and not to take to much notice of appearances.

          “Lydia is a bit clingy, and dad doesn’t like to hurt her feelings.” he said.  As lies go, it was about as far from the truth as it could be.

          Richard casually walked across to where his father was talking to a group of his colleagues, and stood patiently to one side, Becky close by.  As soon as he could Gerald excused himself, and turned to the couple, surprised but pleased, that his son was not alone.

          "I hope you don't mind father, bringing my friend to the party.  She is a new colleague in my company, and a long way from home.”

          Rebecca had smiled a shy smile during the preliminary, and Gerald was quick to notice - it was impossible not to notice - her stunning beauty.

          "Not at all," Gerald smile back, offering his hand, "it's a pleasure Rebecca; you are welcome in my home."

          It was rather a formal welcome, but genuinely meant.

          "Thank you Mr Bomally, Richard has told me a lot about you."

          "All lies I imagine."  the old cliché doing its job and producing smiles all round.

          "And what do you do in the company?” Gerald asked.

          “I'm an actress, and Richard has given me a part in his new play."

          “The leading lady, I shouldn't wonder, by the look of you."

          It was meant as a compliment, but it came out a slightly more direct than Gerald had intended, and Becky blushed.

          Gerald too was slightly uncomfortable thinking he may have embarrassed his guest.

          "I'm sorry my dear, I didn't mean to offend you; it's the Irish in me you know, and sometimes my tongue doesn't think it belongs to me."

          Gerald was in a good mood, and he didn't want to spoil the party, but he couldn't resist a last line to his compliment, "But you are remarkably pretty you know"

          "You're very kind." Becky answered, blushing again, but apparently wanting to move away from this subject, she explained.

          "Richard has given me a small role, and if I am any good he has promised me a bigger part in his next play; but we'll have to wait and see how it works out."

          "She's being modest father," Richard chipped in, "Becky is a very good actress, as well as being the most beautiful person on the set, and ... " he paused and gave his father a wink, "... and she can be very sexy ... I don't think there will be any difficulty in finding a part for her to play."

          He had not said much following the introduction, preferring that Becky and his father should hit it off without his help, and he was not disappointed. He was particularly pleased at his father's reference to Becky's beauty, and her blushes. 'That will have left a subliminal imprint in his mind, of her innocence and vulnerability'  Richard was thinking. 'He will be feeling quite paternal just now.'         

          Just then Lydia came to join them, and after more introductions they settled into casual chatting. Richard deliberately engaged Lydia, and gently altered his position so that she had her back to Gerald and Becky. There were two reasons for this. Firstly he wanted to give Becky the best chance the ensnare his father, and also because he wanted to pay one or two personal compliments to Lydia, to see how she reacted, for it would not be long before he made his move on his father’s girlfriend.

          The party was a huge success and everyone went home happy.  Gerald had been the perfect host, benign and effervescent with everyone, and delighted with Becky. Surely, he told Lydia, he could not believe that Richard was not interested for himself.  "She is so beautiful, and with such a charming personality, how can he not be Interested?"

          Lydia was not one given to fanciful thinking.  Simple, uncomplicated, and straightforward; that was her style, and she did not see the danger.  Like everyone else in the old house that night she had no reason to believe that there was anything, or anyone, to fear.

          David was happy. Content now with Maxine in their new home, he was a visitor to the old house, and no longer a resident.  Although her status had not changed in this respect, Maxine felt more comfortable now, and Richards disturbing influence was not as apparent.

          Richard was happy.  For so many months he had been scheming, setting the trap, and now at last he had found and set the bait, he felt that the game had started. Becky had played her part to perfection.  She had been alluring, slightly evocative, and quietly sexy.  Her blushes had been inspired. That was a trick she learnt and had developed to use on the stage, and with it she had managed to evoke from Gerald a masculine response.  His modestly risqué comments about her physical appearance had been an unexpected bonus, and it was clear that he responded to Becky, a beautiful and alluring young woman. When saying good night to his father Richard had made a point of speaking about Becky, praising her, eulogizing her.  If he were to dream that night, he wanted the dream to be about Becky and not Lydia.

          Unlike his brother and Maxine, Richard had his own room, and Becky had hers.  He had made it clear to his father that they were not a couple.  He did not want there to be any doubt about that.  Never-the-less, at some point in the night he would visit her, and would exact from her payment in kind for services rendered.  His continued support for her theatrical ambitions, and the knowledge that without him she would  be back at the bottom of the pile was entirely dependent on her cooperation.

             Mrs Simpson was happy.  Gerald had invited her to the party but she had declined.

          "I never know what to talk about, and you'll be too busy to be botherin with me," she had told him, "but if you need any help I'll be happy to give you a hand.”

          It was not the way he had wanted it but Gerald didn't argue.  He had tried to persuade he to join them as part of the family many times before, always without success but he knew she liked helping out, so he usually gave in.

He was right; she did enjoy it, and she had gone to her room very tired, but happy.

           It was the third weekend after the party, and Richard had arrived with Becky again, just as he had the previous two weekends.

          Gerald laughed when he heard, convinced that his eldest son had at last found a steady girl friend, in spite of his repeated denials.  But he was pleased too for he liked Becky, and she seemed to like him.  He had noticed however that Lydia was quiet about her.  Perhaps she felt a little uneasy with another unattached young lady in the house.   

          "Why does he keep bringing her when he will not admit that she is his girl friend?" she would ask, worried about the competition, and suddenly feeling that her own position might be in jeopardy. It was a danger she had not sensed before but somehow it was more perceptible now.

          But Gerald could not see why she was unhappy. "After all," he said  "it's about time he settled down.”

          Lydia was a trusting honest young lady, not 'streetwise', like some of the others but she did have a good deal of common sense; usually able to smell a rat if there was one skulking. For some reason which she herself couldn't quite explain, she had sensed a strong odour of rat the last few weeks.

          Gerald and Lydia were at some kind of a crossroads in their relationship, and the coming months - perhaps only weeks - might be critical.  She had outlasted all of his previous girl friends, and Gerald had found her natural charm and her sensible but slightly dotty attitude to life a blessed relief from the highly strung, sexually liberated, aggressive, powerhouse go getters, he had previously been seeing.

          But the experience of those girls had been very valuable to Gerald, for they had all, individually and collectively, freed him of the chains that bound him from the memory and morality of his earlier life.

          But somehow, paradoxically, they had also made him realize that what he really wanted was Megan; Megan, who even now was in his mind and in his heart at some point on most days.  He had thought that all these young ladies would drive away the memories, but they had not.  

          And then came Lydia

          Of course he knew that he couldn't have Megan, she was gone from this life, but in Lydia he had found a woman with all the same qualities, and the same natural charm.  She wasn't a copy by any means and some might have questioned the comparison, but Richard felt that if Megan were able to choose Lydia was the one that she would have chosen to take her place.

          Both of his sons were aware of the growing attachment, and in particular he confided in Richard. For was it not he who had helped him so well to break out of his endless mourning; who had made him see that there was many years of life ahead of him?  Wasn't it he who had come back to the family when he was needed?  And wasn't it he who had introduced him to some of his lady friends, who in turn had demonstrated in such graphic and physical ways that life is to be lived?

          Being in his fathers confidence was especially useful at this time for now that he had ‘lit the fuse’ he knew that it was just a matter of time before he saw the climax of his scheme. Confirmation of his fathers new found love and growing contentment with Lydia was not at all what Richard wanted to hear, and he realised that he might need to move a little quicker with his plans.

          Living his life in the make believe world of the theatre had to a large extent removed him from the everyday world of reality, and he saw his present involvement with his family as nothing more than a role.  As a one time actor he was quite pleased with his performance, happy that his act was convincing.  As a director he saw himself playing the part of another man.  He was in a kind of no man’s land.  Somewhere there was truth and honesty; lies and deception.  Richard was in a world between all of these, seemingly no longer unaware where the boundaries were, where one started and the other finished.

          He knew but did not care, that what he was about to do might destroy his father, and remove for ever his chance of further happiness with Lydia.  He also knew that Becky was poised to comfort him when that happened.

          It was mid way through Saturday morning, and unusually Gerald had to go to the office.

          "Why don't you take Becky with you” Richard suggested, “show her a bit of your world; let her see what you do to earn an honest buck ... I’ve got some scripts to read."

          "I doubt that Becky will be interested in what I do." Gerald responded, ignoring, perhaps not even noticing Richard’s slight touch of sarcasm, but a little surprised at the suggestion.

          "Oh yes I would Mr Bomally, I love the atmosphere a large offices, powerful corporations.  I think they are very strong ... that's if I wouldn't be in the way."

          Gerald could hardly refuse, and a little reluctantly, he agreed. He was concerned because he could not help but be aware of his growing attachment to his son’s girlfriend, and wanted to maintain some distance between them.  But this little outing had in a way been forced upon him, so he could only go along with it.

          ‘In any case’ he told himself, ‘it will give us a chance to get to know each other’.

          “We’ll stop on the way and pick up a sandwich.” he said to Lydia as they left.

          Lydia smiled as she kissed him goodbye, but it was a week smile, a worried smile, and the kiss was a little half hearted.

          Ten minutes after they had gone Lydia asked Richard if he would like some lunch.

          "No I don't think so, it's a nice day, I think I will sit in the garden.  Will you join me?"  Lydia was not expecting the question, and, slightly taken aback she said yes.

          "Good." said Richard, and before she could think about it or change her mind he picked up a couple of apples from a wooden bowl, a couple of cans, and marched out of the door, across the patio, and into the garden.

          Lydia didn't really want to go into the garden, and especially with Richard. She didn't like him very much, but she did hope to marry Gerald, and he was Gerald's son.  She felt that she should use this unexpected opportunity to improve her relationship with him.

          By the time she got out of the house Richard was a hundred yards down the garden, beyond the ornamental beds, past the large pond, and heading towards the trees.  She followed as quickly as she could, wishing he would not go so fast, or so far. She finally caught him up in a clearing on the other side of the trees, with a panoramic over a shallow valley, and in the distance she could make out some of the buildings of the village of Crompton

          She was a little out of breath when she flopped down on the dry grass of the clearing.

          "Why did you come so far Richard?"  she asked a little crossly, "I'm tired out trying to keep up with you."

          "I wanted to show you this place.  I used to come here when I was a little boy. It was my secret den, and as far as I know, no-one else ever comes here."

          He stood up and pointed. "Just beyond those house tops across the valley is the river Thames, and over to the right a bit on a clear day you can just about see Oxford. I used to spend a lot of time here on my own; it’s a special place for me."

          He sat down again, only this time quite close to Lydia.  "It's nice to share it with someone ... especially someone as nice as you."

          "It is nice I must say; I've never been here before."

          "There are lots of other places I could show you, if you wanted."

          He shuffled up a little closer, and put his hand  on her shoulder.

          "What a pity you are going to marry my father." he said, out of the blue.

          "Why do you say that?" Lydia answered, but surprised at herself for not being angry. "He's a fine man and I love him."

          "He's to old for you, he's not man enough for you; how can an old man satisfy a sensuous woman like you?"

          “That’s very personal Richard, why did you want to say that?”

          “Because I know I can.”

          With that he took hold of both shoulders and firmly pushed her to the ground.

          Lydia should have pushed him away.  She should have shouted, or got up and run away; but she did none of those things.  Some strange feeling had overcome her, something powerful that prevented her from resisting. Even when she felt his hand under her skirt, lifting it and then roughly pulling her pants down until they were over her shoes.

          There was no attempt at romance. This was not about love, as he kneeled between her legs, opening up his trousers, their eyes locked - his cold; hers wide open.  He stared at her, piercing, penetrating and then lowering his body to penetrate again, but with no more emotion than the bucks and the does in the fields nearby. They at least were following the natural need to procreate.

          It was over in very quickly, no thoughts of mutual satisfaction, or of  lingering afterglow.  Richard had not acted out of affection, or caring, much less love.  It was none of those things.  It was domination, pure and simple. It was as near to rape as possible, and yet he knew she would not call it so, for she would, if questioned, no matter the cost to herself, say that she gave her consent

          They walked back to the house in silence, Richard pleased that another part of his plan had been put in place; Lydia silently weeping, somehow knowing that her dream of a life with Gerald was about to be shattered.

          It was nearly six when Gerald and Becky returned, chatty, at ease with each other.

          Lydia was busy preparing the evening meal and did not speak, until she felt a kiss on the cheek.

          “Had a good day?”  she asked, trying to sound normal, even though she could feel her heart thumping.

          “Oh yes.” Becky answered first, Gerald showed me all round the offices, and some of the workshops”

          “Sounds fascinating.” Richard said, at the same time giving Becky an enquiring look.

          “It really was, and Gerald’s office, it’s wonderful; even got its own shower.”

          There was something in her manner, something that only Richard would know, for she was acting under his influence, but he knew.  His understanding of mannerisms and body language was acute, and another giveaway was that Gerald looked, to his trained eye, slightly awkward. Yes, he knew. Another milestone in his plan of campaign had been achieved, and by the sound of it, in the shower.