Fraser's Line Read Online Free Page A

– I can’t think where I put it down!’ Then she would lean towards him and whisper quietly, ‘Shall we go home soon? I’m getting bored with this party.’ He would get to his feet, all too happy to leave, but whether they actually left would depend on whether another man appeared at her elbow sparking fresh interest, in which case he might be still sitting there an hour or two later.
    On these occasions Fraser knew that, although she might seem to be thrilled with all the men there, he would be the one to take her home, and this knowledge amply made up for any hours of tedium. Mostly she would be in a state of childlike excitement, eyes dancing, delighted to know that she had held centre stage, outshone her feminine rivals, lit sparks in most males there – who would no doubt try and contact her later, and be puzzled by their lack of success. She fed on the attention at the time and was satiated. It carried her through until another such opportunity came along.
    When they arrived back she would still be in high spirits. She’d ask him if he had noticed what her female acquaintances had worn, and deride those who she considered lacked dress sense. She would laugh at some of the things the men had boasted about – which at the time had apparently so impressed her. And she would be so affectionate, that when they went to bed he was a very happy man. Yes, it would all be very worthwhile.
    Just occasionally her mood would not be sustained once they had left the party and she would come home agitated and miserable. Fraser could only guess at the reason, but he would have an exhausting task on his hands trying to bring the colour back into her face and the light into her eyes. She would profess a headache, but he knew better. In some way she had, in her own eyes at least, failed to achieve the success she needed. He would try hard to boost her, telling her how wonderful she was, how no one had come anywhere near her, how everyone had told him how lovely she had looked, but the mood would remain stubbornly unyielding. He would be helpless to do anything but wait for it to pass.
    Fraser sighed. That was the past, and it was all over. Now he had to face arriving at a party on his own, and all of a sudden the tongue-tied man he had been in his twenties returned. He was about to turn tail and run, when the door opened. Marion – who had been a friend of Margaret’s for many years – stood there overdoing the warm welcome.
    ‘Fraser! How lovely to see you! I’m so glad you’ve come – we all are. We’ve all been thinking of you so much – how terrible it is for you. But you’ve done absolutely the right thing to come out – it’s no good sitting on your own and moping – Edie would really not want you to do that!’
    She was making it worse and worse. Emotions flooded through him – the overriding one being amazement at his own stupidity – fancy exposing himself to this! How soon could he leave?
    He was about to mutter something about not being able to stay long when Margaret appeared and drew him in. ‘Chin up,’ she muttered. ‘The first time is the worst. Look, I’ll come and sit with you for a while.’ She steered him into the room where people were mingling and those who knew him fell silent, not knowing what to say. Fraser smiled at them dumbly, and followed Margaret to a couple of chairs in the corner, where he sat and wished he were anywhere but there. This was even more difficult than he had anticipated, and he didn’t know how he was going to get though it.
    ‘Don’t go away, Margaret,’ he pleaded. ‘I don’t want anyone else telling me what a good thing I’ve done in coming out.’
    ‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Margaret ‘You’ve got to try and talk to people a bit. You’re just wallowing in your misery, Fraser. Try and take an interest in someone else – it’s a sure recipe for feeling a bit better.’
    ‘I’m not interested in anyone else and I’m no good at pretending. I