On the Verge

Over a cup of tea, Gladys recovered some of her composure, but she was still blubbing and sniffing as she confided in Vera. "I'm Gladys. I thought that we could be moving toward marriage. I have been waiting for him to propose for months. I'm a widow, you see. To think that all this time . . . How could he do such a thing to me? And to you as well, of course. The swine has been lying to both of us. And then to accuse me of . . . How could I ever have believed in him?"

"Don't blame yourself, Gladys. He took me in too. More than twenty-five years we've been married. I've given him the best years of my life and a lovely daughter, and now I've discovered what a stinker he is."

With sudden resolution, Gladys rose and went into the hall. "I'm going to phone him and give him a piece of my mind." She dialled the familiar number. As soon as Charles answered the phone, she launched into a tirade. "Listen, you low-life lying deceiver you. You weasel, you hound, you snake in the grass. You've been found out. I never want to see or hear from you again. Don't interrupt! I have had enough of your deceit. You've treated me shamefully. Horse whipping would be too good for you. Good-bye for ever, you good for nothing piece of garbage!" She put the phone down and burst into tears again.

"Don't upset yourself, dear," said Vera. "Come back with me and we'll have something stronger than a cup of tea. And then we can both tell my husband what we think of him to his face."

Back at Charles' place.

Charles put the phone down and looked blankly at William and Robin. "It must be some kind of infectious insanity afflicting the females of this area," he said. "I've just been given the brush-off by my lady friend in no uncertain terms for no reason at all."

"It looks as if we are all in the same boat then," said William. "Let's look on the bright side. We are now all three of us free men. Let us enjoy our new found bachelordom. I am going to look for a pad of my own straight away."

"Right," said Charles, "one for all and all for one." He opened three more bottles and they raised them in a toast.

Vera and Olivia entertain Gladys.

"He must have gone next door to our neighbour," said Vera to Gladys as she poured three glasses of sherry.

Olivia said, "I saw Daddy packing an overnight bag, so I don't expect he'll be back."

Gladys glanced idly out of the window, and saw Charles in his back garden with William. "Yes. You're right, Vera. I can see him in the garden next door. Is that you neighbour with him?"

Vera looked and, seeing Charles, replied. "Yes, that's him."

Gladys eyed William appreciatively. "He's not a bad looking fellow. Is he married?"

"No, he's a widower. Funny thing, I never thought of him that way while I was still happily married, but you're right, he is a good looking man."

Olivia giggled. "Sounds like you two are going to be fighting over the poor man. Don't look at me like that. After all, we three are now fancy free, aren't we?"

"Let me refill our glasses," said Vera, "and we can drink to that."

The bottle was half empty when Gladys returned home, at peace with the world and humming a happy tune.

Developments at La Paloma Dance Studio.

Despite his braggadocio when with his father and William, Robin still pined for his sweetheart. After some heart-searching, he decided that the way to win back her affections was to persuade Yvette to assure Olivia of the innocence of their relationship. With that intention, therefore, he called at the dance studio. As Robin's account of the unjustified slur on his reputation unfolded, Claude soon excused himself, and departed swiftly into another room to give vent to his laughter. Yvette stoically heard Robin to the end, biting her lip from time to time. When he had finished, she said, "But Robin, mon pauvre petit, is it not zat it vould 'ardly be comme il faut pour moi, suspected of being ze other woman, to approach ze lady who wrongly believes 'erself to be wronged? Vy vould she believe me? If she already believes zat I 'ave deceived 'er behind 'er back, zen vould she not also believe zat I vould deceive 'er to 'er face, n'est ce pas?"

In the face of such sophisticated savoir faire, Robin felt compelled to agree. "But what am I to do?" he wailed plaintively.

"Pas problemo," replied the polyglot. "Ve send Claude, n'est ce pas?"

Claude was summoned and sent upon the mission, despite his fierce protestations. Once he had gone, Yvette eyed Robin speculatively. "Tell me, Robin," she asked, "'ow vould you like to tango?"

William seeks a place of his own, and he and Gladys learn the truth.

Determined to find a suitable pied à terre from which he could exploit his new status as a free male as soon as possible, William telephoned some local estate agents, and learned that a flat nearby was available for immediate occupancy. Moreover, he could view it straight away, as the landlady lived in the flat below. Early that afternoon found him ringing the bell of the house in Tenby Close. The door was opened by Gladys.

William started to introduce himself. "Good afternoon," he began. "I'm . . ."

Gladys swiftly interrupted him. "Good heavens," she exclaimed. "You're the man next door!"

William gave a nervous laugh. "Well," he said, "I don't live far away, but hardly next door."

"I mean next door to Vera. I saw you in your garden talking to her husband."

"But I am Vera's husband. You might have seen me talking to my neighbour, Charles, in his garden."

"You mean that Charles is not Vera's husband?"

"Good Lord, no. Charles is a widower. I'm Vera's husband William."

"Oh dear! What have I done? Charles hasn't been deceiving me at all then."

"What do you mean?"

"There's been a horrible misunderstanding. A man told Vera that he had seen her husband calling on me. The caller was actually Charles, but Vera was so adamant that that it was her husband that I assumed that Charles had been deceiving me and was really married to Vera. So now I have fallen out with Charles, and I suppose Vera has had a thing or two to say to you?"

"That would be putting it mildly."

"Look, come in while I get ready, then we can both go round to Vera and explain what has happened."

They entered the house, and Gladys went into her bedroom to repair her makeup. As she did so, the telephone in the hall rang. "Answer that for me, will you please, William?" Gladys called.

William lifted the receiver and said, "Hello."

Vera seeks consolation, and she and Charles learn the truth.

After Gladys had returned to her own house, Vera found herself agreeing with Gladys' view that her neighbour was a good looking man. Now that she was a free woman, she told herself, she was entitled to follow up such observations in any manner she chose. From her front room window she saw Charles pottering in his front garden. She checked her appearance in the hall mirror, patted her hair, and smoothed her dress over her hips. Then she strolled with affected nonchalance down her drive and onto the grass verge, and bent to pick an imaginary speck of debris from the grass.

Charles came up behind her. Still smarting from his cruel dismissal by Gladys, he thought he might essay a little mild gallantry. "I say, Vera, you're taking a chance, bending over in a skirt in this wind! I half expected to hear the sound of distracted motorists crashing into each other."

Vera straightened and faced him. Close up, she thought, he was a distinct improvement on William. "Oh, it's you, Charles. I didn't see you there. As for distracting motorists, now that William and I have split, I'm on the market again, so I might as well put the goods on display." She lifted the front of her skirt slightly to expose her knees.

Charles had not expected his bait to be snatched at quite so eagerly, and sought to disengage himself. "Has it gone as far as that? Don't you think you're being a tad hard on William?"

"After he's been deceiving me with another woman? I don't think so."

"Another woman? Good Lord, I didn't know that. Who is it, do you know?"

"A widow lady called Gladys who lives on Tenby Close. Every Wednesday morning he has been going off to see her, pretending to be going to the gym. And he's been deceiving her as well as me, telling her that he was a widower. And the lying swine even tried to drag your Robin into it; he told me that the woman was a prostitute and that Robin was another of her customers."

As this garbled account unfolded, Charles found it increasingly difficult to contain himself. As soon as Vera had finished he laughingly blurted, "Oh my, Vera, you have got things twisted. William's Wednesday assignations have been with a dancing instructor, not a mistress. I know that's true, because Robin goes with him. They're both taking secret dance lessons. What's more, Gladys does have a Wednesday caller, but it's me, not William."

"What? You? But that old man who's always walking round the streets here, he told me that he saw William entering Gladys's house."

"He told you that? It must have been me he saw. What made him think I was William?"

"Well, he didn't say 'William,' he said 'your husband.' Oh! I begin to see the light. He saw you and thought you were my husband. How could he have got that idea?"

Remembering his brief encounter with old Ted, Charles had an uneasy suspicion as to how that might have happened. "I've no idea," he replied.

Vera was trying to sort out in her mind what had happened. "So when Gladys saw you and William in your garden, she thought that you were my husband and that William was my neighbour. And when she said she fancied my neighbour, it was William she meant, not you. We'd better set her straight before she starts getting any ideas."

"That's for sure. We can phone from my house. I've got her number."

Charles and Vera leap to conclusions.

Once inside, he rang Gladys's number. A male voice he recognised answered, "Hello."

"William? Is that you?"

"William?" queried Vera. "What's he doing there? Here, give me the phone." Into the phone she said, "William?"

"Good Lord! Vera? How did you know I was here? And why are you with Charles?"

"Never mind that. You didn't waste much time, did you? The pair of you should be ashamed of yourselves." She turned to Charles. "We're too late. That hussy has snagged him already."

"What! Here, give me that phone." He took the phone from Vera. "William, let me speak to Gladys, now! Gladys? You're a nice one, aren't you? You accuse me of lying to you, of pretending to be free when actually married -- as if you didn't know me better than that - and as soon as you have given me the brush off, you start making eyes at someone else, someone who really is married. You're the one who's faithless, not me!" Before Gladys could answer, he slammed the phone down.

"I'd better get back home," Vera said. "If Olivia's in I've still got to straighten her out about poor Robin."

"Good Lord, yes. I was forgetting about him."

"Come back with me. You can confirm that Robin's Wednesdays have been quite innocent. Anyway, I think there's still some sherry left. We can drown our sorrows together."

William and Gladys decide to straighten Vera out.

"Well," William said. "I certainly got an earful from Vera. I suppose you got something similar from Charles?"

"Yes. I can't make it out. Charles sounded as if he already knew about the mistaken identity, which should have made things right again. But then, just because you were here with me, he leapt to the conclusion that we must be having an affair. We've only just met, for Heaven's sake! How could he be so suspicious?"

"Yes, Vera likewise. Whatever could have given her the impression that there was likely to be anything between you and me?"

Gladys guiltily remembered the remarks she had made to Vera about William when she had believed him to be Vera's neighbour. "I've no idea," she said.

"Oh well, I'd better get home and see if I can talk some sense into Vera face to face. I wonder what she was doing round at Charles' place?"

Thinking back to her conversation with Vera, Gladys recalled that Vera had agreed that her neighbour was an attractive man. "Yes, I think you had better get back there quick, before things get any more confused."

"I'm sorry if I've spoiled things between you and Charles. I was only looking for somewhere to stay. I had no idea that you and he were . . ."

"You're not to blame. It has all been Vera's fault really, hasn't it, for insisting that it was you calling on me this morning. If you can sort her out, perhaps Charles will come to his senses too. In fact, I think I'll come with you, and speak to Charles myself."

"Good idea."

Claude calls on Olivia.

Claude reluctantly approached the door of number 32, and apprehensively rang the bell. While he was rehearsing in his mind how to approach what he conceived to be a delicate mission, the door opened and he was face to face with Olivia.

Olivia gasped as she recognised the figure on the doorstep. "Claude!" she exclaimed. "How did you know where to find me? You shouldn't have, you know; it's terribly indiscreet." She paused and looked quickly up and down the street, "But I'm so glad you did. How did you know that I needed you? It's like a fairy tale come true!" She seized him by the front of his jacket and dragged him into the house.

Claude was bewildered by this reception. He assumed, correctly, that this was Robin's Olivia. He also gathered from her effusive manner that they had met before, but where or when he could not recall. While he was trying to think of a tactful way of finding out, Olivia fortunately provided a clue.

"I often think of those happy days on board the Balearic, Claude; do you? I laugh when I think of how Mother was always trying to play gooseberry whenever we had a chance to be together. It's a good job she's not at home, or she'd be hovering again."

A cruise ship, of course! Claude realised that this must be the very mother/daughter pair that Yvette had been teasing him about earlier. A quick look in his little black book would confirm. "It's lovely to see you again, Olivia, but I'm feeling a trifle thirsty. I wonder if I might have a drink of some sort?"

"Of course, Claude dear. I can't offer you any of those exotic cocktails they served on the dear old Balearic, but I think there might still be some sherry left." While Olivia went in search of the wine, Claude hastily examined his little black book. Ah, there it was! 'mv Balearic, 4-13 June. Vera J, possibly in her forties, married, Olivia J daughter, possibly 18.' Subsequent entries confirmed his recollection that Olivia had been a pain in the neck, hindering his progress with her mother. He was still reading when Olivia's sudden reappearance bearing a glass of sherry took him by surprise, and he quickly stuffed the notebook down the side of the sofa cushions.

"It was so noble of you, Claude, to stay away while I was engaged to another, but what I don't understand is how you found out that Robin has been deceiving me with another woman, so that I am now free?"

"Ah, now that's just what I came to tell you. Robin has not been deceiving you. Well, he has, but not in the way that you think, not with another woman. The fact is, he has been taking secret dance lessons so that you will be proud of him at your wedding reception. You did him an injustice by jumping to the wrong conclusion. "

"Oh Claude! Then I suppose that I really should take him back, even though I'd rather . . ."

"Oh absolutely! No doubt about it! You must do the right thing and take him back. He only took the lessons to please you, you know, because he loves you."

"It's frightfully gallant of you, Claude, to plead the case of your rival in love. But hang on a minute, how do you know all this, about Robin taking secret lessons just to please me?"

"Well, he told me."

"But when, how, where? How did you come to meet Robin and talk with him at all?"

"How? He came to us for the lessons."

"Us? Who's us?"

"Me and my sister. You remember my partner, Yvette? She's my sister, and we run a dance studio here in town."

"A dance studio? Here?"

"Yes, La Paloma Dance Studio, in the shopping arcade. You must have seen it. Robin's waiting there for you now."

Olivia certainly had seen it, and had thought what a grotty outfit it was. She recalled the fly-specked cardboard name sign with dog-eared corners behind the upper storey windows that had not experienced the attention of a window-cleaner's wash leather for many a year. She looked more closely at Claude, and thought how he had changed from those romantic evenings on board the Balearic. Then he had seemed the epitome of a Latin lover: Rudolph Valentino and Cesar Romero rolled into one. Now he looked more like an aging gigolo; nothing but an oily dago really. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of the mistake she had almost made. She took hold of Claude's sleeve and pulled him towards the front door. "Right! Take me to him, now!" With no opportunity to recover his notebook, Claude reluctantly followed her.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch La Paloma Dance Studio.

Robin was enjoying his tango lesson. Compared to the conventional waltzes, quicksteps, and fox-trots, it was, he felt, more conducive to free movement, and permitted, even encouraged, holds less constrained by formality. With heady abandon and unwarranted confidence, he attempted a gancho move. Yvette was taken by surprise, and their feet became dangerously entangled. Robin fell onto his back, pulling Yvette down on top of him. She sat up and got to her knees, unimpeded by her skirt, the deep slit in which enabled it to slide easily up her thighs. At this point, as she knelt straddling Robin, the door opened and Claude ushered Olivia into the room.

It took Olivia less than a second to assess the situation and reach a verdict. "Get off my fella, you shameless harpy!" she shrieked. She pushed Yvette over, yanked Robin to his feet, and dragged him towards the door. "You're coming back with me," she spat at him. "And if it's lessons you're wanting, I'll give them to you, and then some!"

Claude sidled up on Robin's other side, and whispered in his ear, "I say, old man, I left my diary behind at Olivia's place. It's down the side of the sofa cushions. Be a sport and get it back for me, will you? That's a good chap."

(Almost)
⁁ Everybody comes to Rick's William and Vera's.

As they sipped their sherry, Vera eyed Charles speculatively. If William was now an item with Gladys, that meant Charles was available, and she wondered how soon she could make a play for him without frightening him off. Had she but known it, Charles was already apprehensive of her intentions, and was wishing that Olivia would come home. He felt his prayers had been answered when she came in with Robin in tow. His relief was apparent in his voice as he greeted them.

"Oh, hi you two! Back together again are you? Your little misunderstanding all sorted out now, Olivia?"

Her tone was frosty as she replied, "Your son now has a better understanding of where he stands with me, if that's what you mean, Mr Wilson, and regrets his foolish imposture."

Vera meanwhile had beckoned Robin to her. "What I told Olivia, dear, about you, you know, it was all in good faith, but unfortunately, because of that silly old man, thinking that your father was my husband, I ask you . . ."

"It's all right, Mrs Johnson. Olivia and I are OK now. And I'm sure the rest of you will sort things out between you." Robin repaired to the kitchen to examine Claude's diary, which he had surreptitiously retrieved from the sofa cushions while speaking with Vera.