‘Such as?’ Jenny challenged.
‘I’m going to have a long leisurely bath, wash my hair, read my book, and then maybe I’ll watch a good weepy on the television. They usually put one of those old sentimental films on on a Sunday afternoon.’
‘It doesn’t sound the height of excitement to me,’ Jenny derided.
‘I don’t want excitement. I’m going to have that bath, you can do what you like.’
‘Thanks!’
‘Oh, you know what I mean. Just go out with Matt and stop worrying about me.’ Helen went into the bedroom before Jenny could raise any more arguments. She really would much rather be on her own, and she wouldn’t be miserable either.
When she came out of the bedroom to go and have her bath Jenny had already left, supposedly with Matt. She would have to apologise to her cousin when she got back.
It was good to relax in the hot soapy water, to soak all the strains and tensions out of her body. It had been a hard week, a week when she had tried to regain Mr Walters’ good opinion of her. She thought she had succeeded. The girls had all been curious, Sally especially, as to whether or not she was still seeing her Leon Masters look-alike. If only they knew it was actually Leon himself!
Her sigh was deep-felt as she heard the telephone b
egin ringing. It couldn’t be anyone important, she would just let it ring. Finally it stopped, only to start up again a few seconds later. She climbed angrily out of the bath, grabbing a towel before rushing out into the lounge.
She snatched up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ she snapped.
‘Helen.’
Colour flooded her cheeks as she instantly recognised Leon’s voice. He sounded so near, not thousands of miles away. ‘Yes?’ Her voice wasn’t forthcoming.
‘You sound breathless.’ He didn’t bother to introduce himself. ‘What have you been doing?’
‘Who is that?’ She was deliberately awkward.
She heard him give a husky laugh. ‘It’s me, my cool Helen.’
‘I’m sorry…’ she sounded vague. ‘Who is me?’
‘Who else calls you “cool Helen”?’ Was it her imagination or was there a sharpness to his voice now?
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said unenthusiastically.
‘That’s what I like about you, Helen, you’re so encouraging. What were you doing when I called?’
‘Taking a bath.’
‘Oh God!’ she heard him groan as if in pain.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked worriedly. ‘What happened?’
‘Nothing happened. At least, nothing I could tell you over the telephone,’ he said hoarsely. ‘It’s just—what do you have on?’
She looked down at her naked body, the towel still in her hand. ‘Well, actually…’
‘You don’t have anything on?’
‘No,’ she admitted.
‘Oh, God!’ he groaned again.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?’ she frowned.
‘Oh yes, there’s something wrong, I’m too damned far away from you. The thought of you standing there talking to me stark naked is driving me insane.’