Tara Page 32

  Josh smiled seductively. Tara was caviar and Champagne but it would be sometime before he managed to charm her out of her knickers. Angie was fish and chips, and available at any time.

  'Come on upstairs.' He nodded towards the back of the shop. He was always ridiculing Angie for her South London voice and loud taste in clothes, but he had to admit she was a little sex-pot.

  'Is that why you said Tara could go early?' She had been hurt about that, assuming it was favouritism, but now he had that lustful look in his dark eyes she felt warmer towards him.

  'Yes, and because I had something to tell you.' He grinned.

  He wasted no time in the office, remembering he had to meet Tara at six, and pulled Angie on to his lap.

  'What's the secret?' she asked, smiling as his fingers moved to undo her blouse.

  'Promotion for you,' he said, sliding his hand over her bra and tweaking her nipple. 'I've got another shop and I want you to be manageress here.'

  'But I already am, aren't I?' She couldn't think straight when he was touching her.

  'Not really, because I'm always in and out and Tara's here. I want you to take sole charge and take on another two girls under you.'

  'You mean Tara's going to the new shop?' It sounded as if Tara was getting the breaks, not her.

  'Yes. I'd have sent you both, but I can't leave this one without someone reliable running it.'

  'Where is the other shop?' For once she didn't respond quite so readily to his hands; she smelled something fishy.

  'Kensington.'

  Angie wanted to cry. She knew exactly why Tara had been chosen instead of her – because of her looks and the way she spoke. Her lip quivered and she bit back the tears.

  'It isn't like that.' Josh guessed what she was thinking and the last thing he wanted was for her to leave him in the lurch with no-one running the shop. 'I want you here because I trust you, you know the people round here, and so I can see more of you.'

  'Do you really love me, Josh?' She wanted to believe him, but he'd promised her so much in the past and never come through with it.

  'Would I be here with you now if I didn't?' he asked. He had her blouse undone and was unfastening her bra. 'Give me a kiss, Angie. I've been thinking about you all day.'

  He had been thinking about sex all day, because deals always made him randy. Any willing girl would do, but Angie was available.

  She slid her arms round his neck. Josh was the best kisser she'd ever met, she had only to touch her lips on his and she got excited. His tongue slithered into her mouth as he played with her breasts.

  One of the reasons she never quite gave him up was because he was such a good lover. Most men she's been with just jumped on, fucked her, then rolled over, but Josh turned it into an art form.

  'What would you like me to do to you?' he whispered, his hand creeping up her skirt, lingering on the smooth skin above her stocking-tops.

  Her lips went back to his, but she took his hand and pushed it up against her fanny.

  'It's hot and wet already,' he murmured, fingers finding their way around her tight panties. 'You're a rude little girl, Angie, you've been thinking about me, too.'

  She writhed as he pushed hard into her, his lips on her neck, moving down towards her breasts to bite them.

  He could make her do anything he liked once his fingers started to move in and out of her. Somehow sitting half undressed on her boss's lap just feet from a window overlooking a busy street heightened it still more. If a bus passed she could be seen, but Josh knew that.

  'I wonder what men out there would think if they saw you,' he whispered, pulling her skirt up and panties right off with one hand and turning her round on his lap so she faced the window. He kept pushing into her with two fingers and with the other hand he stroked her clitoris. 'Play with your tits, Angie, turn all those men on.'

  In reality she knew the window acted as a mirror and the only person who could see her clearly was Josh, but it was all part of the fantasy. Her head began to swim, her eyes closed and she undulated her hips as his fingers moved faster.

  'Harder,' she croaked, pressing her bottom back against him, feeling his hard cock straining to be loosened from his trousers. She opened her eyes and saw herself mirrored in the window, long hair falling over her naked breasts, her body so white against Josh's hairy arms and her black suspender belt. 'Fuck me, Josh.'

  Josh smiled to himself. He loved to have women in his power this way. They would do or say anything under the influence of sex.

  'No fucking tonight,' he whispered. 'I just want to make you come.'

  She was bucking against him, making so much noise he was sure the people out there in the street could hear, and then suddenly she was still, lying back on his shoulder.

  'That was wonderful,' she said a faint voice. 'I love you so much.'

  He turned her round to kiss her. He was so hard it hurt, but if he stayed to fuck her now he'd be late to meet Tara, and he didn't want to go smelling of sex.

  'What about you?' she said softly as he fastened her bra and buttoned up her blouse.

  'I'll come round later tonight,' he said. 'I wanted to take you out tonight but I've got to meet someone.'

  'Shall I cook you something?'

  Josh smiled. She was very pretty, sexy enough to meet any man's approval and a first-class worker, but her cooking was awful and the bedsitter was so dingy he didn't like to linger in it.

  'No, don't bother,' he said. 'I'll be late, I expect. Just keep yourself warm for me.'

  She stood up, pulled her panties back on and smoothed her skirt down. She was aware of a part of him she never quite reached and it saddened her. Other men would go home with her right away, be glad to spend the whole evening with her, and she suddenly remembered Josh never did that.

  'I won't ever go cold on you,' she said, bending to kiss him. 'I love you, Josh.'

  Tara was outside the library ten minutes early. She'd had a quick shower and changed into a cream short-sleeved dress that Josh had turned down because he said it was too expensive. It was one of the things they argued about, he always wanted things to be cheap and insisted girls wouldn't pay for quality.

  It felt as if she was betraying Angie by having a drink with Josh. Although common sense told her she had to look out for herself as far as her career went, Angie might suspect her of trying to lure Josh away from her. But whatever Josh's motive was for asking her out tonight, Tara's was straightforward ambition. If she could hang on in while he fought his way to the top, seize every chance to get known in the trade while she honed up her skill, then one day she'd stop holding the ladder for him and start her own company.

  'This is lovely.' She smiled across the table at Josh. 'I never knew there were such pretty places in London.'

  She had never been to Highgate village before, and it felt more like being back in Somerset than in a city. They had plumped for sitting in the pub garden as the sun was still hot, and the scent of honeysuckle and roses was wonderful.

  'It'll be packed out later.' Josh looked round at people parking their cars in the already crowded road. 'But maybe we'll go somewhere else then. I wanted to talk to you away from the shop, because it's vital I know how committed you are to working for me.'

  'Very.' Tara shrugged her shoulders. 'I mean, I don't see myself leaving.'

  Josh looked pensive for a moment, his eyes half-closed and his thick lips set in a straight line.

  'You see this new shop is in Kensington, and I'll want you to be manageress.'

  'Kensington!' Tara's heart began to pound. She was always going there on her days off, wandering around the streets, looking in shop windows, dreaming of the day when her clothes would be in those boutiques.

  'Bethnal Green was just putting my toe in the water.' He smiled smugly. 'One day I'll have shops in every major town.'

  Tara listened to his plans carefully. Kensington was just the start, he wanted to open branches in Chelsea and Oxford Street soon after. Just the thought of wh
at this could mean brought her out in goose-pimples – it was as if he was laying out her own private dream.

  'What about Angie?' she asked. 'Is she in on this too?'

  'Angie isn't right for Kensington,' he said carefully, knowing how loyal the two girls were to one another. 'She'll run everything at Bethnal Green. Don't worry, she's quite happy about it.'

  Tara knew now that at least part of Josh's plans rested on her. But he was as cunning as a snake, he never came right out with anything, he had to sidle up, even attack from behind.

  'I couldn't be your manageress and your designer.' She sipped her drink and looked innocent. She saw the startled look, guessed he'd thought he could go on putting on her for ever. 'I can't do both jobs efficiently, Josh. It's got to be one or the other. With two shops and more planned I'd be run ragged.'

  'I was only thinking of you carrying on like we've always done.' He slapped on his most beguiling smile. 'I'd do the bulk of the designs.'

  That meant he was going to steal ideas from others, just the way he had before she came. She had never dared allude to that for fear of making him angry, but now she knew it was time to put her cards on the table.

  'You can't design,' she blurted out. 'You haven't made one sketch in two years that was workable. You can't go on copying other people's clothes either, Josh, not if you want to stay in business.'

  She saw anger rise in his face and she wondered if she'd blown it.

  'I'm sorry to be so blunt,' she added quickly. 'I'm only saying this now because you wanted to know how committed I am. I'll be your designer, Josh. I'll work some of the time in the new shop, but I'm not prepared to go on as we have been any longer.'

  Josh was stunned, he'd underestimated the girl. He had thought offering her a carrot would turn this drink into a date. He hadn't expected an ultimatum.

  'So what else would you like?' His lip curled petulantly.

  'More money,' she said quickly, before she lost her nerve. 'And a proper workroom. I'm not working at night for nothing any longer.'

  'You seem to be running away with yourself.' He wanted to wipe away all that confidence. 'I've got other designers lined up.'

  Tara's heart sank. She was fairly certain he was bluffing, but she couldn't be entirely sure.

  'If you get other designers in, then I'll be off.' She spoke gently but with a hint of steel in her voice. 'I haven't worked hard for you for two years just to be pushed back behind the till.'

  He was stuck. He had approached other designers, but every one of them who was any good had merely laughed at the deal he put to them. Something told him Tara didn't know how to play poker; what she said was what she meant. He couldn't take the risk of her stalking off now.

  'OK.' He sighed. 'But until the new shop gets on its feet I'd expect you to be there.'

  'When are you opening it?' she asked, inwardly reminding herself how slippery he was.

  'The middle of September.'

  'How much room has the shop got above it?' she asked.

  'Two floors. I suppose we could put a workshop there.' Josh had stopped trying to be cunning.

  'Let me have a flat there and we're in business,' she said. 'Kensington's a long way from Bethnal Green, Josh.'

  Josh's mouth dropped open. The quickness of her mind amazed him.

  'I was thinking of letting it,' he shot back. But even as the words came out he could see this was to his advantage. In one fell swoop he could remove her from Harry's influence and Angie's, she would be available whenever he dropped round and doubtless she'd work doubly hard without distractions.

  'But what will Harry think about you leaving home?'

  'It's nothing to do with Harry.' She looked at him with scorn. 'I love living with Queenie and George, they're the kindest people in the world. But I'm not crazy about the East End, Josh. I want a bit of style.'

  For months now she'd been aware she was on the outside looking in. Kensington and Chelsea were where it was happening for young people. She wanted to mix with people who were free spirits, be a part of the swinging scene she read about in the newspapers.

  'You'll get it, babe.' Josh felt a smile stealing over him. 'You and me, Tara, we're going places.'

  'I get to be your designer, with a workshop, a flat and more money?' She went over it to make sure he'd fully understood her. 'And I only work full-time in the shop until it's up and running?'

  He hesitated for only a second. Excitement had turned her cheeks pink, her golden hair shone in the evening sun and those strange, beautiful eyes were making his heart turn somersaults.

  'It's a deal.' He grinned. 'Now let's have another drink to celebrate.'

  Chapter 18

  September 1965

  'Are you sure about this, Tara?' Queenie looked up anxiously from packing a box with china. 'You're so young to be living alone!'

  'I'll be OK, Queenie. It's a big adventure moving into your first flat, isn't it?' Tara replied, her voice quivering.

  'Of course it's an adventure.' Queenie's usual smile switched back on. 'Anyone would think you was being shipped off to the salt mines of Siberia. You'll only be a bus-ride away and, anyway, you'll have more fun round there.'

  'Will you come and see it once I've got it all straight?' Tara threw her arms round Queenie's plump neck and held her tightly. 'I've got this one big room and Josh got a man to paint it all white for me. I'm going to have big posters, huge plants and floor cushions.'

  'I'd better bring my own chair, then,' Queenie joked, returning the hug. 'I'm too fat and stiff to sit on the floor. Just mind you don't invite any of those Bohemians round who take that pot stuff.'

  'What do you know about pot, Queenie?' Tara giggled.

  'Nuffin', worse luck.' Queenie chuckled and her chins quivered. 'I do know about fellas, though. So don't invite anyone in for coffee unless you intend to go to bed with them. In my experience men assume sex is on the menu at just the mention of coffee. They can't help it, love. Their brains and their John Thomases are very closely connected.'

  'Uncle George was lucky finding you.' Tara moved away to pack the rest of the cutlery and glasses Queenie had insisted on giving her. 'It was just a shame you didn't get together years ago while there was still time to have a family.'

  'We've got Harry.' Queenie smiled and reached for the clothes she'd just finished ironing for Tara. 'And you. Who knows, in a few years we might get grandchildren.'

  'I won't get married for years.'

  'I hope not, love,' said Queenie. 'I was your age when I got hitched the first time, and it ain't all it's cracked up to be, I can tell you. Mind you, years ago we got married so we could sleep with our chaps, if the truth was known. Now you can get that pill and get stuck in without any of the boring bit.'

  Tara bit back laughter. She knew Queenie was trying to instruct her on birth control, not enthusing about free love.

  'I do know about it.' She dropped her eyes, slightly embarrassed. 'Don't worry, I won't get into trouble.'

  Queenie understood Tara. Not because they were alike, but just the opposite. Tara kept her distance from people and things which might bring her down. She'd heard so many horror stories from both her mother and grandmother that she was determined not to go the same way. But Queenie sensed Tara's way was more dangerous. Avoidance didn't give you experience, in fact it just held closed floodgates which could be opened by a person with the right key. In Kensington she was likely to meet plenty of handsome charmers. Would Tara be able to see beyond a fat wallet and an expensive suit?

  'That man hurt you, didn't he?' Queenie sat down on the settee, the ironing still in her arms.

  'It could have been worse.' Tara shrugged her shoulders. 'At least it was a clean break.'

  'You must try and trust men again, sweetheart.' Queenie's blue eyes looked misty. Unlike Harry and George she had never seen Tara's cool approach to men as mere ambition. 'Don't lock your heart away. God put us on this earth to love and be loved. It's more important than money.'

  It was
late when Tara got to bed on her last night in George's house. Mentally she ticked off all the things she would miss about Paradise Row, and the list seemed endless. The small but cosy bedroom, Harry's room which she had used as a workroom soon after she arrived. Clothes miraculously washed and ironed, the wonderful meals. Yet somehow she knew it would be the small touches she'd miss most. Queenie coming in to tuck her in. George bringing her a cup of tea in the morning and the way he always cleaned her shoes. The gleaming brass on the front door and welcoming smells of dinner cooking.

  Lying in the darkness thinking about all the happy times here made her question her own family. Amy's sweet gentleness could be every bit as aggravating as Gran's stubborn and prickly nature. They didn't laugh much. Life for them revolved round work and keeping things going, enjoying life wasn't a priority.

  There were a great many things still left unsaid about her running away to London, even two years on. She sensed her mother felt abandoned somehow. Gran sniped all the time, about Josh being Jewish, how he came from Cable Street. Then she'd have a go at Harry – he was a thug, a waster, a drinker and a gambler. With her mother it was more subtle; a frown, a sigh and always the same remark about how little they saw of her.

  Up till now Gran's barbed comments about Josh hadn't mattered, he was just her boss after all. But a change had come about in their relationship since that night in Highgate. There'd been no touching, no suggestive words or even looks to show her how he felt; just a glint in his eye and a certain softness in his voice.

  Deep down inside she knew she was aching for a love affair. Not a grope in a car with someone she had nothing in common with, but a deep, meaningful relationship. Her dreams were becoming more and more erotic, visions of the things Simon did to her came crowding back, making her hot and damp. Josh figured in these dreams and she had an instinct that he felt the same way.

  Harry pulled up outside the shop in Kensington Church Street and turned to smile at Tara.

  'Pretty posh,' he said. 'A different league from Beth-nal Green.'

  It was seven in the evening, but although the shoppers and office workers had gone home the street was still busy. Restaurants, wine bars and pubs were crowded, people strolled up and down on the warm summer evening, the traffic was still heavy.