THE SON OF BOMALLY

 

                                                                  Chapter Six

                                                            Spinning the web

 

A few weeks had passed, and the two ladies with guilty secrets were starting to feel a little more comfortable.  Perhaps Richard would not kiss and tell after all.

          Becky too had a secret but she did not feel guilty.  On the contrary she felt wonderful, for under Richard’s guidance she was now getting public acclaim on the stage, and now had the exciting secret love of a powerful man off the stage.

          Richard knew perfectly well of course, that she was all the things his father loved in a woman, and that he was bound to be smitten. He was, and Richard further manipulated them both in a way that neither suspected, so that they soon became regular lovers, though Gerald did have an enormous sense of guilt about starting an affair with Becky.  But oddly he felt that he was betraying Megan rather than Lydia, and although he disliked the clandestine nature of the affair, he was glad that so far she had not suspected anything. It had not occurred to him that she was too frightened to speak out.

          At the same time Richard had gone out of his way to further enhance a friendliness with his brother which until recent months, had not existed.  Of course David was pleased, now that he had been assured that this new friendship was not just a ploy by Richard to enter into their fathers business world. He did not feel threatened, and responded likewise, just as Richard hoped he would.

          They had enjoyed swapping stories about their lives, activities, and especially girlfriends. David was intrigued about the world of the stage and screen, and envious of Richard's friendship with so many famous people, and of his shoulder to shoulder experience with all those other glamorous people who might one day be famous. 

          On one the occasions when the talk came round to their own girlfriends,  Richard denied, as usual,  that Rebecca was in fact the 'main item' for him.

          "But she is so beautiful" David said.

          "I keep her on,"  Richard lowered his voice in a show of confidentiality, "because she's great in bed."  Winking at Richard he said "she just can't get enough of it, and as you have observed she's no scrubber, so it's no hardship having her on tow."

          Such a dismissive tone came as quite a shock to David, and he was even more surprised when Richard made it clear that if he wanted to make a play for her he would look the other way.

          "After all," he smiled "I think she quite fancies you, and in any case, it would still be in the family."

“Hang on Richard,” David said, quite shocked at the way that Becky was being traded, I can’t do that, what about Maxine?”

          “Oh Maxine; is that a problem?”

          “Of course it’s a problem.”

          “But you don’t think long term with her do you, I mean, she’s a bit of a slapper isn’t she?”

          David was stunned. What was Richard talking about?

          “We live together, we are going to get married, and I would be pleased if you would withdraw that remark.”

          “You can’t mean that David, she’s an old tart and she shags like an old tart.”

          David was speechless.  So stunned he didn’t know what to say. Then he found his voice again. “What do you mean she sh..., you know, like and old tart, what could you know about that?”

          “Ha,” Richard called out, “how do you think I know?”

          “I don’t believe you.”

          “That’s up to you little brother, but I tell you, she’s been around.”

          “Why should I believe you?”

          “Why should I lie to you?  It’s your life, but that girl of yours came to my room begging for it, so I had to oblige her didn’t I.  What’s more, she has a lot of bedroom tricks that I bet she didn’t learn from you.”

          Richard was gloating and enjoying it, but he had to be careful.  After this he still wanted David to believe that they were friends; wanted him to believe that he had had a lucky escape.

          David dropped heavily into a chair, defeated.  He had never had reason to doubt Maxine’s fidelity, though he knew that he was not her first lover.  But why should his brother lie to him?

          “I can’t believe it.” was all he could manage.  

          “If you don’t believe it, that’s fine.”  Richard said in quite a different way, suddenly the concerned elder brother, anxious to protect his sibling, “Perhaps you should ask her.”

          “How can I?  what can I say?”

          “Just ask her straight out, one simple question, and then it’s out in the open.”

          David got up from his chair and walked slowly out of the room without saying another word.  A couple of minutes later he returned, Maxine just behind him looking ashen.

          Once inside he turned to Maxine, trembling slightly but determined to go through with it.

          “Richard tells me that you went to his room and that you made love with him.”

          It was a statement rather than a question, but he waited for her answer. Maxine gasped in disbelief.  Richard had betrayed her after all.  She turned away covering her face with her hands, but she could not hide the sound of her sobbing.  When she finally managed to control the tears she turned back to face the two men.

          “I’m so sorry David; I’ll never know how it happened or why.  Something came over me as though I was hypnotised.  I know it must sound weak, but I can’t explain.”  Her hands came up and she waved them slightly in front of her, as though searching for the right words.

           “It was only that one time and I feel nauseated just thinking about it.”

          Richard had said nothing, and now, having done what he set out to do, he left the room.  David and Maxine, just stood, looking at each other, neither of them speaking; there was nothing to say.

          It was not long before David announced that Maxine had left the flat, and that their relationship was over.  It was a severe blow to David whose earlier relationships had always been fleeting and unsuccessful.  With Maxine he had seen the future, but neither of them had been able to overcome the gulf that had separated them following Richard’s revelation.

           Particularly David, who could not dislodge the mental image of Richard’s graphic description of Maxine as a good time girl; a charge which Maxine vehemently denied, but beyond that she would not discuss it.

          Richard had done his worst, but continued to be a ‘friend’ to his brother, helping him through a bad time.

          Inevitably, Becky, who now visited the old house with Richard every weekend, was sympathetic and comforting, and before long David found himself looking forward to her visits.  Richard continued to insist that his relationship with Becky was very casual, and that she remained a free agent

          Of course while planting the seed of desire in David, he made no mention of the fact that even as they spoke their father and Becky were probably making love in one of the guest bedrooms.  It was, he was sure, only a matter of time before David and Becky would be doing the same.

          Richards plan worked well.  As friend and confidant to his brother, the prodigal son to his father, and Svengali to his mistress they soon became enmeshed and under his control, each in their own way doing his bidding.  He persuaded David that a major refurbishment and redecorating of his flat would remove all traces of Maxine, and that Becky had natural skills in this department. 

          David was no match for Richard, and neither could he resist for long Becky’s beauty, her softness, and her bright and breezy temperament.  The flat was a perfect place for love, and very quickly David became a willing victim, drawn irrevocably to stormy waters by Richard’s siren.

          More and more Richard’s strategy was working, and the strategy was a simple one.  Now that he had both men entangled with Becky, and she with him, it was time to move on.  Time to remove the last piece of any significance from the chess board.  Lydia.  She had been a pawn who wanted to be the queen, but as in many a game of chess, it was time for the queen to be taken - again.

          It was not difficult to arrange.  An unexpected opportunity and Becky would be unable to meet Gerald as planned, at their secret rendezvous.  He would be home early.

          Lydia had all but regained her former confidence, reassured by Richard’s silence on the matter of his carnal knowledge of her, and was once more, mistress of the house.  She had noticed however that Gerald was not quite as insistent in the bedroom as he used to be, but thought it was no more than overwork, and perhaps a reflection of his extra years.  She could live with that, but she was a young woman, and expected more attention from her man than she was getting at the moment, and did feel a touch neglected.

          Richard picked his time well.  Was it just luck or another manifestation of that ability to ‘see’ what others can’t.  Whatever, on that day Lydia was feeling particularly edgy.  It had been two weeks since Gerald had made love to her, the longest time since they had met, and she didn’t quite know how to deal with it.  Some of her uncertainty had returned, and with it the nagging fear that he may have found out.

          It was a Saturday and Gerald told her he had to attend a conference - his usual cover - and for the first time in ages Lydia had the house to herself.  Both the boys had engagements elsewhere, and Becky was on a studio photo shoot.

          She enjoyed a leisurely shower, and being on her own with no particular plans she was taking her time.  So she was still in her bath robe when she heard noises downstairs.  Going quietly to the head of the stairs she stood and listened.  There were definite sounds coming she thought, from the kitchen, and she was just about to go back to the bedroom to ring the police when Richard appeared, a mug of hot coffee in his hand.

          “Richard!” she called out a little crossly, “You frightened me.”

          “I’m sorry Lydia, I thought I was alone,” he lied,  “sorry if I startled you - would you like a coffee?”

          “Yes please.  I’ll be down in a minute.”

          “Never mind, I’ll bring it up.”

          Lydia went to her room knowing she would have to dress quickly, but Richard was too fast for her.  He had prepared for something like this, and the coffee was already made. He was up the stairs and at her bedroom door in a trice.  A sharp tap on the door was the only notice he gave, and without waiting he pushed it open.

          Lydia was standing by the bed naked, her back toward him.  He saw immediately the curves of her body, from the back of her neck to her ankles.  Beneath her golden hair were her slender shoulders, white and smooth, giving way to her gently rounded back and the narrowing of her waist, and the slight hollowing of her lower back. Then came the roundness of her hips and buttocks; a shape that nature in all its eons has found hard to equal, much loved by artist through the years, and never bettered.  Further down to the elegant tapering of her thighs, and then, the final curve of her calves. Without a blemish, or the slightest unwanted ounce or inch, she was perfect.

          Perfect or not, Lydia was understandably angry at Richards intrusion.

          "Don't you know how to knock?" she asked, her irritation showing, as she quickly reached down to retrieve a towel from the bed and held it in front of her.

          "I am sorry Lydia, I didn't want to embarrass you, but I forget.  In my world I am not used to locked doors, and everyone is used to nakedness, we see it all the time.”

          "Well I'm not used to it, will you please leave while I get dressed?”

          By this time he had reached the bed and put down the cup on the little bedside table and then he stood back a pace, facing her.

          "But you are so beautiful, it’s a crime to hide yourself away."

          With that he reached forward and gently removed to towel from her grasp.  Now there was nothing between them, and Richard could see those other curves, hitherto hidden from his view.  Lydia seemed transfixed as if remembering their last encounter.  Once again she was unable to resist. Something in Richard had the power to overcome her will power.  She watched him with eyes that displayed not fear, but wonder.

          Richard looked at her breasts, not too large and still enjoying the firmness one might expect in a younger woman. Then the ever so slight swelling of her belly, and  the widening of her hips. And then that secret place, that gentle mound almost hidden by a soft fair velvety covering, before her thighs, firm and slender took his eyes away. But not for long, for soon  his eyes found hers and locked with them for what seemed like an eternity.

          No more words were spoken, but when he placed his hands at the top of her arms she moved forward into his embrace, and his kiss.  It took no more than a gentle roll and they were on the bed, and with the minimum of time Richard was as naked as Lydia.

          Where before Richard had been a cruel and aggressive lover, selfish and brutal, this time he was just the opposite.  And whilst the last time his grizzly looks had added a touch of horror to their mating, this time Lydia knew only tender care, sensitive caresses and passionate embraces.

          Richards experiences in the art of lovemaking was extensive, and though he was usually only concerned with his own pleasure, he had considerable knowledge about how to please a woman, and Lydia was to enjoy the benefit of that knowledge.

          They remained joined not for only two minutes this time, but for over an hour Richard moved and caressed, his lips and his tongue probing and exploring, his hands caressing, his hips never still, until Lydia could bare it no longer and cried out.  Louder and louder she cried; faster and faster Richard worked, until the combined noises of grunts and screams and bed were deafening. 

          So deafening in fact that neither of them heard the sound of the car as it came up the drive, or the sound of the key as it unlocked the front door. 

          But Gerald could hear it as soon as he walked into the house, and he entered the bedroom just in time to witness the final clamorous crescendo of the love duet

          For some minutes Richard and Lydia lay still, just as they had come to rest after that moment of climax; neither wanting to move, neither having the energy to do so, and neither aware of Gerald’s presence until he spoke.

          “Congratulations ... that was a fine performance ... perhaps you would both like to join me downstairs.”

          Richard had turned another page of his master-plan, and, just he suspected, Lydia was despatched the following day.  But he had no feeling of guilt.  Lydia had enjoyed one of his finest performances, and his father was now free to pursue Becky.  All Richard had to do was to convince him that he had done him a favour.

          “How do you make that out?” he asked angrily when, just after Lydia had gone, and  Richard was trying to calm him down.

          “Lydia was in your way; I could see that.  It was obvious you were chasing Becky.”

          “Obvious ... obvious” he said again, but after a moments silence he asked “was it that obvious?”

          “Yes it was, and it was also obvious that you caught her a few times.”

          “Oh my god; poor Lydia; what must I have been putting her through?”

          Richard didn’t bother to explain that it hadn’t been quite as obvious as he made out, and that he was getting a full report on all his goings on with Becky, from Becky.  But it suited him to know that his father was hurting.  It pleased him to think that soon he would be hurting a lot more.

          David too was distraught for he too had recognised something special about Lydia, a quality that none of his other girlfriends possessed. She was ‘just as she was’, not pushy or aggressively sexy. A perfect replacement for his mother. So too was Mrs Simpson who came to like Lydia’s homeliness very quickly.

          Richard however was delighted. Like most successful ploys, it mastery was in its simplicity. Give then what they wanted, but let them work for it, and then let them pay for it.  The two men both wanted Rebecca, morning noon and night they wanted her. 

          Rebecca wanted style and fashion, rich living and the trappings of high society.  She got them all, and by a little slight of had, it seemed to be Gerald who was providing it. 

          She wanted stardom, and though it was Richard who made sure that she got it, he carefully set up social meetings between David and some show business folk.  Other ‘coincidental' happenings, along with whisperings in many ears, so that Rebecca started to believe that it was David who was responsible.  David got the credit and she expressed her gratitude in the way that David most wanted.

          David’s newly transformed flat with its wonderful views over the shallow Thames valley, became a perfect love nest. 

          Richard's task in the scheme was to plan Rebecca's movements carefully so that at any time she was only available to one or the other, but never both.  Also with just enough time between visits to keep the excitement high, and their desire strong.  All he had to do now was to wait until they reached the point of critical damage.  When the two men would 'accidentally' find out about each other.  He shivered in anticipation as he imagined the anger they would feel; each feeling betrayed by the other, and both betrayed by Becky.

          As the time went by, moving ever closer to the climax of his plan, Richard's excitement grew.  But he never relinquished his hold on Becky, never stopped reminding her that regardless of how it seemed, he controlled them all, and that as long as she played her part she would have everything her heart desired.

          Except love.  She had confused passion and thrills and affluence with Gerald.

          She thought it was love. 

          She was being recognised as an actress ‑ unaware of the strings that were being pulled ‑  and living a life of excitement and artistic expression to the full with David.

          She thought that was love too. 

          She was living a life style that most people would envy; a lifestyle the like of which very few would not exchange.

          "What more could a girl want?" Richard would frequently ask her. 

          Rebecca thought she had everything.  She thought she was happy. No longer at the mercy of the 'producer’s couch', for Richard made sure that she was not pestered by them, and, as he knew that she had all the ‘love’ she wanted, or needed, from Gerald and David, he withdrew from her bedroom, but not from her mind.

          Rebecca was sure she was happy !