It Was Only Supposed to Be Business

The Race

"Winter? I hate the winter!" I gasped, dreading the ideas of snow, ice and spending the rest of my life with a man I didn't love.

"Well, we would marry and we could vacation in France." Moving our wedding earlier was not on my agenda. Neither was going to France.

"I went to France with my first wife. She adored it!" On top of being a bore, Charles was previously married, and he had children. His daughters were a few years younger than me and we didn't get along.

"I'm not vacationing in a country where my father and my brother died. It would be toiling on me!" I cried. Instead of offering sympathy or understanding, Charles scoffed at my remark and proposed another foolish idea.

"Well, we wouldn't be going to the battlefields or the cemetery, for goodness sake! Don't you think you can manage Paris?" Tears swelled in my eyes. His selfish remark replayed in my head as I nodded, not wanting to cause a scene. When the horses took their marks and darted around the track, I was quiet, knowing further words from my lips would disrupt Charles as he studied the race.

Even though the race was fascinating, I couldn't remove Charles's egotistical remark from my head. Could I manage Paris? Probably, but I didn't want to set foot in France. I'm sure it was beautiful, and I heard pleasant things about its people, but going to France would cause a worsening ache in my heart.

"May I get a drink in the parlour? All this sun is making me light-headed." I asked Charles, squinting at the horses. He was so immersed in the race. I had to beg for a response.

In the quiet lobby, I collected my thoughts by admiring the artwork of the horses that covered the walls. However, the peacefulness quickly vanished as upper class men and women stormed into the parlour, cheering in victory. The ones who lost their bets had long faces, and I tried not to giggle. I wondered if Charles won or lost.

"Miss Yardley?" An intrigued, raspy voice remarked, catching me off guard. Standing beside me in a beige tweed suit with shiny boots was Arthur Shelby. I didn't know him well, but I felt at ease recognizing a face in the crowd.

"I'm here with my fiance," I whispered, embarrassed as the words escaped my lips.

"Oi! Which one of these lucky bastards is your finance then, eh?" Arthur giggled, trying to make me feel comfortable, but instead, I was ashamed. My eyes scanned the room for Charles. Charles would have a conniption if he saw me socializing with the opposite gender.

"Err, the man who is walking in. He's my fiance." I was hesitant to point out Charles. My eyes fell to the ground in pure humiliation.

"The man with the cigar? Eh?" Arthur snickered, impressed with my choice of men. However, the tall man with the cigar hanging from his mouth was not my fiance. I gently motioned to Charles, who made his way to the bar with his top hat in his arm. He looked much older with his hat off.

"Oi!" Arthur gasped, catching a glimpse of Charles. I knew he was surprised and was trying to mask his disbelief with a fake smile.

"He looks established!" He remarked, sensing my embarrassment. Sure, Charles looked established. That was polite, for he looked old. Arthur offered me a cigarette, and I took it, hoping to calm my nerves.

"You don't strike me as a girl who likes the races!" Arthur chuckled.

"No... But, I adore horses." I mumbled, deeply inhaling from my fag. I noticed Charles approaching and I tried to hint at Arthur to leave, but instead, he lit another smoke.

"Adeline, where did you go, my darling? I was worried about you!" Charles exclaimed, giving Arthur a cold stare. Instead of replying, I introduced him to Arthur, who decided to leave Charles and me alone. I agreed. Tension was already erupting between us.