Part One Hundred And Twenty Nine
On the Tuesday lunchtime, both Jo and Yvonne found themselves wandering casually through the shops in Knightsbridge, Yvonne killing time before a meeting with her accountant, and Jo doing the same before an appeal hearing in The Strand. Jo was trying to convince herself that she wasn't on the lookout for something incredibly sexy for George's birthday present, but after going into the third glamorous lingerie boutique, she was forced to admit that she was. George's birthday would be two weeks today, and Jo had been assaulted with the possibility of what George would look like in something highly transparent and silky, ever since she'd caught her sunbathing on Sunday. Jo had been mortified by her own attempt to take things a little too far, but this was all so new to her, nothing like pulling a man in the least. So, something that she figured could also be part of the clandestine progress of their affair, was the buying of George's birthday present. As Jo stood, admiring the incredibly delicate texture of the negligees on the rack in front of her, she felt an enormous sense of daring and excitement rise within her. Jo knew that never would she have considered buying anything like this for herself, never mind anyone else, so the opportunity to do so was wonderful. Deciding that buying George anything in the provocative underwear line was far too cliché, and far too John, she'd lighted on the beautifully crafted negligees, that had not so beautifully crafted prices to go with them. But that didn't matter on this occasion, because Jo was getting just as much pleasure out of buying it, as she hoped she would by one day seeing George wear it. Rifling through the hangers until one particular one caught her eye, she fervently hoped that George wouldn't think her silly for buying her something like this. Jo was, to a certain extent, doing it on a whim, doing what she felt like doing, which was what George seemed to make her do so easily. Then, Jo saw the perfect thing. It was made of a soft, silky material that would slide effortlessly over the skin, and was in a beautifully translucent duck-egg blue, and by the looks of it, would stop just above George's knees. A blue silk belt would tie in front, allowing instant access to the woman inside it as a matter of course. Jo held up the hanger, trying to picture the negligee on George, and wondering if the colour would be right for her, when she got the fright of her life.
Yvonne had been strolling casually along the Knightsbridge street, occasionally glancing in the shop windows, when she'd caught sight of Jo, with a furtive look about her, that told Yvonne that Jo was doing something secret. Jo didn't so much as glance her way when she walked into the shop, and as Yvonne approached her, she could see that Jo was looking at a beautiful, silk negligee. Stepping stealthily up behind her, Yvonne leaned over her shoulder, and broke in on Jo's contemplation of the garment in her hand. "My, my," She said, in a low, sultry tone that she might once have used on an enemy. "The Judge is going to be a lucky man." Whirling round with the offending article in her hand, Jo breathed a little sigh of relief when she saw who it was. "Jesus Christ, Yvonne," She said in shock. "Don't do that!" "Sorry," Yvonne said with a laugh. "But you looked so furtive, and as if you were committing an extremely serious crime, that I just couldn't resist." "And I suppose that's how you've always surprised those you've felt it necessary to disturb," Jo said dryly, beginning to relax a little more. "You never quite lose the knack," Yvonne said with a smile. "So, what has the Judge done to deserve seeing you in something quite so sexy?" Jo couldn't help it, she blushed a crimson that would have done a sunset proud. "Ah, not for the Judge then," Yvonne deduced at Jo's embarrassment. "Go on," She invited. "I love a mystery." "It's a birthday present for someone," Jo brought out eventually. "Well, well, how delightfully sinful of you, Mrs. Mills," Yvonne mocked affectionately. "The only time I would ever have thought of buying something like that for someone's birthday present, would have been for Karen, which leads me to suggest that there's a very lucky lady somewhere who is being kept very much under wraps." "You could say that," Jo replied uncomfortably. "Don't look like that," Yvonne said, feeling a little remorse for badgering Jo for information like that. "She must be worth it if you're shopping in somewhere like this." "She is," Jo said with a soft smile. "So, come on then, why not pay for that, before you change your mind, and we'll go for a coffee." Jo glanced at her watch. "I do have an hour before I need to be in court." "Well, there you are then." Without further ado, they moved to the counter, and Jo dug out her visa card.
When they'd left the shop behind, Jo carrying a discretely coloured bag, they found a nearby coffee shop, and sat at a table outside, with a waitress bringing them two espressos. "Well then," Yvonne prompted, once they'd both lit up cigarettes. "Tell all." "I can't," Jo said, taking a long and grateful drag. "Why, do I know her?" Yvonne asked. "Yvonne, I mean it," Jo insisted. "This is absolutely not for public consumption." "Calm down," Yvonne reassured her. "I'm just curious, that's all. We all thought you were straight." "So did I," Jo said ruefully. "But then, didn't you, before you found yourself with Karen?" "Yeah, I did," Yvonne said, remembering. "And if it'd lasted longer, it would have been perfect. I've never felt quite as mad, or as free, or as young and stupidly naive as I did with Karen." Jo smiled. "That's how it feels for me sometimes. It's almost as if I'm sixteen again." "It sounds like you're hooked, good and proper," Yvonne observed seriously. "When I'm with her, I can't seem to keep my hands off her," Jo admitted, blushing scarlet at her confession. "Oh, you really have got it bad," Yvonne said with a smile. "So, what are you doing round here this afternoon?" Jo asked, thinking that they'd talked for quite long enough about her. "I'm supposed to be meeting my accountant, and I had a bit of time to kill. Jo, have you seen Karen recently?" "Last weekend. Why?" "We had a bit of a row, a couple of weeks ago, and I said something to her that I really shouldn't have done. I virtually accused her of being the reason why Lauren was where she is." "Oh, Yvonne!" Jo protested vehemently. "Yeah, I know, I know," Yvonne said regretfully. "It was just something that was said in the heat of the moment." "I don't care what it takes, Yvonne, but you must apologise to her for that," Jo insisted. "Ain't that easy though, is it," Yvonne said ruefully. "No, it's not," Jo said kindly, thinking that if the day ever came when George gave Karen up for her, she, Jo, would be in a similar boat. "But you really must try." "Is she happy, with George I mean?" Yvonne asked, wanting yet not wanting to know. "Yes, I think so," Jo said a little guardedly, willing herself to go on meeting Yvonne's gaze. Yvonne watched as Jo's eyes faintly flickered at the mention of George's name, staring at Jo as the pieces of the jigsaw began slipping into place. Jo was a little unnerved by Yvonne's penetrating gaze, and she strove to keep her eyes open and honest, but she could feel Yvonne as if she were methodically rifling through the contents of her mind. Before Jo could stop her, Yvonne reached for the boutique bag, glancing inside to take a look at the label on the negligee. "Hmm," She said almost meditatively. "The only person I know who would fit a size eight is George. Am I right?" "What makes you say that?" Jo asked evasively, knowing she was skating on thin ice. "I may not be in the actual business of the law, Jo," Yvonne said with a wry smile. "But I didn't learn Charlie Atkins' methods of prosecution for nothing. It's no skin off my nose if it is George, because I barely know her." But Jo could see that it was. Yvonne was concerned purely for Karen, though she wasn't willing to say as much. "Now do you see why I didn't want to tell you?" Jo said quietly. "Jo, if she makes you happy, then that's all that matters, where anyone's concerned," Yvonne told her, forcing a genuine smile onto her face. They stayed silent for a little while, both finishing their coffee. "Karen's going to get hurt, isn't she," Yvonne said eventually, putting her one misgiving into words. "Yes, I think so," Jo said regretfully. "As for when, I couldn't possibly tell you, and believe me, that is the last thing I want to do." "I know," Yvonne told her honestly. "If there's one thing I know about you, Jo, it's that you don't do something that might hurt someone else's feelings, unless you absolutely have to. I've always known that." Jo was incredibly touched at this bluntly stated piece of sentiment, and a little while later, when they parted, Yvonne giving her a quick, impulsive hug, Jo walked towards her car, wondering just why her relationships always managed to cause people harm. Her relationship with John had done that, and here she was, heading down the same road of guilt and dishonesty with George.