Part One Hundred And Seventy Two
On the Wednesday lunchtime, Connie was taking advantage of the glorious weather on her day off to go shopping. It had been some considerable time since she'd spent an extortionate amount of money on clothes, but having a day off in the middle of the week, plus having been informed by Michael that they would be attending a very high powered dinner party at the weekend had given her the perfect excuse. The Knightsbridge boutique was air-conditioned, the cool wafts of manufactured air making her shiver slightly after the heat of the sun outside. Having paid for the dress, she left the quiet atmosphere of the shop, and began walking lazily down the fashionable street. The numerous expensive boutiques were interspersed with elegant wine bars and coffee shops, nearly all of them having tables and chairs outside, so that their customers could take advantage of the beautiful weather. Connie lifted her face to the sun as she walked, thinking it heavenly to be out in it rather than cooped up in either her office or the sterile environment of the operating theatre. Time was almost standing still for her today, with the very air itself seeming to be lulling her into a state of relaxation.
When George caught sight of Connie from where she sat outside her favourite coffee shop, she smiled. Connie looked to be miles away, wholly submerged in her thoughts and without a care in the world. George hardly liked to disturb her reverie, but she somehow wanted to share in this unexpected side to Connie's nature. When Connie heard George's voice calling to her, she looked round, at first unsure as to where the voice was coming from. "Over here," George clarified, and Connie realised who it was who had greeted her. "Hi," She said, walking over to George's table. "This is a nice surprise." "Sit down," George invited. "Would you like some coffee?" Saying that she would, Connie took a seat and put her boutique bags down on a spare chair. "Have you like me got the day off?" Connie asked. "No," George replied with a slight frown. "My office isn't too far from here." "Very nice," Connie commented dryly. "That must be why you can afford to charge so much for your services." "No more, I suspect, than you do for the work you do at the Hadlington," George replied with a knowing smile, referring to the private hospital where she had been treated for her breast cancer. "Touché," Connie agreed with a smile. "So, how are you?" "Oh, surviving," George replied with a shrug. "The chemo's a bit of a nightmare, but I suppose that's to be expected. What about you?" "Oh, you know," Connie replied almost dismissively. "Still putting people back together, still shouting at my staff, you name it." "And how's it going with Ric?" George asked, having seen the possibility of something between them whilst she was in hospital. "He's just a friend," Connie said seriously. "Nothing more."
When Connie's coffee had arrived and George had been given a refill, she tried to change the subject from something that Connie obviously found a little difficult. "So, what's the occasion?" She asked, gesturing to the bags from the type of shops that she occasionally frequented. "Or were you simply after some retail therapy?" "Michael is insisting on taking me to some political function, because the current Home Secretary, who just happens to be one of his cronies, will be the guest of honour." "Ah," George said with a broad smile. "So you're not particularly enamoured with Neil Haughton?" "Good god, no," Connie said in total disgust. "He bores me to tears. Quite how any woman manages to put up with him for more than five minutes is beyond me." "I put up with him for nearly two and a half years," George said to Connie's complete amazement. "And yes, he very often did bore me to tears." "You had an affair with the Home Secretary?" Connie asked, wanting to get this absolutely straight. "Yes, for my sins," George replied dryly. "We lived together for quite a while, which wasn't one of the most delightful experiences of my life." "So why did you do it?" Connie asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this little quandary. "I think that in the beginning, it was really to annoy John more than anything else," George admitted sheepishly. "I wanted to flaunt something in front of him that he couldn't give me, the status symbol of being attached to a government minister, and it worked. John was bitterly jealous of Neil's presence from the word go. Then, when I failed to win a trial which it would have been politically expedient to win, he gave me a black eye, so I threw him out. I've hardly seen him since." "You don't exactly lead a quiet life, do you," Connie said with sympathy. "I don't think I ever have," George told her ruefully.
Then, wanting to get off the subject of her relationship with Neil, George asked, "So, what did you buy?" "This," Connie replied with a smirk, retrieving a beautiful, very revealing dark red dress from one of the bags and holding it up. It was fairly long, with a very low neckline and with the short sleeves off the shoulder. "That's gorgeous," George told her in obvious appreciation. "Well, it ought to ensure that I have some fun, and it will definitely serve to keep Michael on his toes." "Why do you stay with him if you despise him so much?" George couldn't help asking. "I don't really despise him, not completely anyway," Connie said a little tiredly. "We just both seem to have outlived our usefulness to the other, that's all. I no longer need his money that got me through medical school, and he no longer needs a wife to rise through the upper echelons of the Department of Health. We tolerate each other's existence because we can't be bothered to get divorced. He has lovers, I have lovers, and we put up a nicely contented facade whenever necessary." "It doesn't mean that you're happy," George said quietly. "No, perhaps it doesn't," Connie admitted, utterly astonished that she was revealing so much to this woman she barely knew. "But for now, I suspect that's how it's going to stay."
"Well, you will certainly turn a few heads at that dinner," George said with a smile. "I seem to have gone off buying clothes ever since I had the mastectomy." "You don't look any different than you did before, you know," Connie told her quietly. "I'm not sure that I really believe you," George replied uncertainly. "You should," Connie said simply. "Besides," She added with a smile, trying to put George at her ease. "No woman should ever stop buying clothes. It goes against all the laws of humanity." A little while later as George returned to her office, she couldn't help smiling at the half-hour she'd spent with Connie. It had been entirely unexpected but extremely relaxing. They had talked about normal things and normal feelings, just two women who were gradually finding that they had an awful lot in common.