Night Of Shame. Miranda Lee

a glass of white wine in his hand.

      ‘Simon asked me to bring you this,’ he said. ‘His mother wanted him for something. He shouldn’t be too long. Do you mind if I stay and talk to you for a while?’

      His eyes locked with hers and immediately she was lost. ‘I...no, I...I don’t mind,’ she said shakily.

      They talked and talked. Simon didn’t come back and Judith scarcely noticed. Alexander told her how he and Simon had become best friends while doing an economics degree together at Sydney Uni a few years before, but that whereas Simon had gone on to a position as a trainee executive in a large insurance company he had had to give up his own banking career to return to run the family farm near Goulburn. His father had tragically lost both his legs at the knees when he’d been run over by the tractor.

      Judith found him a man of great depth, not at all what she’d expected. She would have preferred to find him shallow and insincere, unworthy of her mad longings—someone she could despise and thereby kill her infatuation.

      But any despising was not to come till much later. That night she found nothing to despise, only to desire.

      An hour passed. Alexander went in search of the still missing Simon, only to return alone, a dark frown on his face. Abruptly, he took the now empty wineglass from her hand and asked her to dance.

      What madness! What joy! She could touch him and no one could condemn her. She could revel in his nearness, for she was safe in the company of others.

      But he steered her away, first out onto the terrace and then down into the extensive grounds. When they reached a secluded spot behind a hedge, he swung her to a stop and just stared down at her. She was both afraid and thrilled by the look in his eyes. When he kissed her, the dam of desire she’d tried so hard to bottle up spilled wide open and all her passion for him poured forth.

      Oh, such a torrent of feeling it was. Such a flood of longing. She was just swept away. Within minutes he had her on the ground, her clothes pushed aside. She was panting beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape.

      Alexander was only a second away from total possession, Judith clinging to him in abandoned submission, when the cold clarity of Simon’s voice froze her with shame.

      ‘You lying, cheating little bitch!’

      Alexander rose quickly, pulling down her skirt and adjusting his own clothing with amazing speed. Judith just lay there on the grass, stricken with shame. Her eyes were round with shock. How could you have done this? her conscience cried piteously.

      Simon was no longer looking at her but glaring at Alexander, wild fury in his eyes. His arm swung round with violent intent, but Alexander warded off the blow with his elbow. Simon swayed, and Judith saw that his cheeks were flushed and his eyes bloodshot. He was very, very drunk, she realised as she scrambled to her feet at last.

      ‘Please, Simon,’ she said pathetically, grasping at his arm. ‘I...I’m sorry. I—’

      He struck her. A savage blow to the side of her head, sending her sprawling. Alexander grabbed her before she fell to the ground, then whipped round to face Simon. ‘I’ll kill you, you bastard,’ he threatened. ‘Touch her again and I’ll kill you.’

      ‘She’s all yours, dear friend,’ came the sneering retort. ‘Screw her to death for all I care.’

      Simon lurched across the lawn and into his blue Aston Martin. The car burst into life and screeched off down the drive, sending a shower of gravel scattering at their feet. They didn’t even have time to speak to each other before they heard the sound of the crash and saw the fire-ball in the distance.

      Simon’s family and friends never found out why he’d driven off so crazily to his death. Alexander didn’t confess to anything. Judith had begged him not to. And when he announced that he wasn’t able to stay for the funeral, a sudden downturn in his father’s health calling him home, she thought it was for the best. How could she possibly stand by his side at Simon’s graveside?

      By the time Simon was buried, her guilt was overwhelming. She knew then that it would take her a long time to get over what she’d done. Her only comfort was the knowledge that Alexander must truly love her to have betrayed his best friend like that, as she must truly love him.

      He’d promised to come back and get her in a couple of days. She was counting the moments till his arrival, wanting to get right away, away from the misery in that home, away from the scene of their crime, so to speak.

      But it wasn’t Alexander who came. It was his sister, Karen...

      Judith was lying down in her room when she was told there was someone on the front veranda to see her. The visitor refused to come inside.

      Puzzled, Judith went downstairs and out on to the veranda, gazing with curiosity upon the pretty dark-haired young woman waiting there. She’d been crying, Judith noted.

      ‘You’re Judith Anderson, Simon’s fiancée?’ the girl asked.

      ‘Yes.’ But who on earth was she?

      The girl pulled out a crumpled handkerchief from a plain black handbag and blew her nose. A thick lock of hair fell across her eyes and she agitatedly pushed it aside. The gesture reminded Judith of someone, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on who.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ the girl blubbered. ‘I’m really sorry.’ Then she totally lost control and the tears flooded anew.

      Judith took her elbow and led her to the long seat against the wall. ‘Let’s sit down,’ she said gently, ‘and you can tell me what you’re sorry about, plus who you are.’

      The girl lifted her tear-stained face, her brown eyes widening. ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I...I’m Karen Fairchild, Alex’s sister.’

      Of course, Judith realised. The same forehead and hair—hair that was always falling forward.

      ‘If only I’d known,’ Karen blurted out. ‘I’d never have told Alex. Never! But he was insisting that I come to your wedding, and I just couldn’t.’

      With that she buried her head in her hands and wept some more.

      Judith’s thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion. What terrible thing was this girl trying to tell her?

      ‘What shouldn’t you have told your brother?’ she asked slowly, already dreading the answer.

      The girl looked hard at Judith now and the weeping stopped. ‘I’m not sure you’ll want to hear this, you having loved Simon. But I loved him too and I’ll never forgive Alex if he was to blame for Simon’s death. He didn’t say much when he came home but I knew. I just knew he’d done something.’

      Judith stood up abruptly and walked over to the edge of the veranda, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. She took a deep breath to calm herself and turned to face her visitor.

      ‘Let me get this clear, Karen. You were in love with Simon?’

      The girl nodded.

      ‘And Alex found out?’

      ‘That’s part of it...’

      ‘So what’s the other part?’

      Karen looked upset, as though she wished she hadn’t started this confession. ‘I suppose I’ll have to tell you it all now,’ she said unhappily, then fell silent.

      Judith waited for her to go on, unable to trust herself to speak. The feeling of foreboding was fierce within her heart.

      ‘Last Easter,’ the girl began at last, ‘Simon came down to stay at the farm for a few days. Alex had to work most of the time and I...well, it fell to me mostly to entertain Simon.

      ‘It wasn’t Simon’s fault. Really and truly. I threw myself at him and he...well...I knew he didn’t really love me, that it was just...you know. But I didn’t care. I was mad about him. I even told him it was safe. I had this silly idea that you couldn’t get pregnant