by Rosie Clarke
If I was unhappy it would be his fault!
My breath caught as Richard slipped the wide gold band on my finger. He smiled at me and I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach. Until this moment it had all seemed like one of the stories I read before I went to sleep at night; I’d half expected to wake up and find it was all a bad dream.
Oh, Paul. Paul, I love you!
I smothered the cry from my heart as I walked out of church with my hand on my husband’s arm. The sun was shining brightly and it was very warm. I could smell the scent of roses and lilies from my bouquet, hear the loud pealing of the bells. The bells were ringing so loudly that I couldn’t hear what Richard was saying to me. I leaned my head towards him, trying to catch the words.
‘I said you look beautiful, Emma. I can’t wait to be alone with you.’
I nodded, trying not to think of what would happen once the reception was over and we left to begin our honeymoon. We were staying at a hotel in Ely overnight and catching a train to the coast early in the morning.
‘I love you, Emma.’
I smiled up at him. It was time to forget my dreams. Paul had never loved me. I had to start fresh. Mother was right. I must try to make a go of my marriage. I looked up into his eyes.
‘Can you forgive me – for what I did?’
‘It’s over,’ he promised. ‘Just be good to me, love, that’s all I ask.’
‘I will,’ I said. ‘I will. I promise.’
The photographer called everyone to order.
‘Smile please. Look this way, Mrs Gillows. We want nice, happy pictures, don’t we?’
Everyone had gathered in the churchyard. I looked round for my mother. She was standing just to the left of Father. He was rubbing at his stomach. He said something to Mother; she took a small box out of her bag and gave it to him.
‘Now the bride’s parents,’ the photographer said, waving at them enthusiastically. ‘A nice big group – and you, Mrs Jacobs. Come on, everyone – smile, please!’
Father stood next to me for the picture. I heard his stifled groan and glanced at him anxiously. He really was in a lot of pain.
‘Are you all right?’
‘A touch of wind,’ he muttered. ‘It’ll pass.’
I nodded, smiled for the camera again, then felt Richard take my arm and push me towards the cars waiting to take us to the reception in a small local hotel.
‘I think my father is ill,’ I said as we dodged the deluge of confetti and got into the back of the first car. ‘He was in pain just now.’
‘He’ll be all right,’ Richard said and reached out for me as the car drew away from the kerb. ‘Give me a kiss. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.’
When his arms closed round me I felt trapped. I wanted to push him away and jump out of the car, but of course I couldn’t. His mouth was eager, demanding. He seemed to take without giving – but what else could I expect? I let him kiss me, staying perfectly still until he let me go and sat back.
‘Stop worrying,’ he said and frowned at me. ‘Harold will be fine. It’s just his stomach trouble again. He’s had it for years.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Relax. Everything will be all right.’
‘Yes, of course.’
I could see he was put out because I hadn’t responded to his kiss. I would have to try harder next time, because I wanted him to be kind to me. I might just be able to bear being married to him if he was kind.
I noticed my father didn’t eat much at the reception. I saw him grimace a couple of times, but he got up and made a speech about being proud to hand his daughter over to a decent man.
‘To the bride and groom!’
Father took only a sip of his drink, then sat down quickly. He looked pale but sat through the rest of the toasts, only disappearing rather hurriedly into the cloakrooms when Richard and I started moving about the room, talking to our guests, thanking them for all the lovely presents we had been given.
‘You look beautiful,’ Mary Baker said and kissed me. ‘You sly thing! I knew you and Richard were going steady, of course – your father told mine the night we came to tea – but I didn’t think you would be married before me.’
‘Nor did I,’ I replied truthfully. ‘I’m as surprised as you are.’
‘Well, just be happy.’ Mary squeezed my hand. ‘It all went well, didn’t it? Your mum looks pretty in that pink dress.’
‘You look pretty, too.’
‘Did you know Sheila Tomms is back?’ Mary asked suddenly.
‘No – is she? Have you seen her?’ I stared at her in surprise. Even though I no longer thought Sheila might have been murdered, I had wondered about her a lot. ‘Do you know where she went?’
‘I know what they’re saying.’ Mary pulled a face. ‘You don’t want to hear about—’ She broke off as there was a murmur of consternation from the other side of the room. ‘What’s happened? That’s your father, Emma. I think he just fell over.’
I turned and saw several people gathered about a man lying on the floor. I started to walk towards him, but before I got more than halfway he was sitting up. Mary’s father and another guest pulled him to his feet and someone gave him a chair.
Mother came to meet me.
‘It’s all right, Emma. Nothing to worry about.’
‘What’s wrong, Mum?’
‘He was sick in the toilets,’ she said. ‘It left him feeling a bit dizzy. He’s all right. Just his usual trouble. Nothing to worry about.’
‘Are you sure? Should we call a doctor?’ I looked at her anxiously.
‘He says he doesn’t want one. You know your father.’
‘But he hasn’t been like this before.’
‘He would hate it if I made a fuss in front of everyone. If he’s no better after we get home this evening, I’ll send for the doctor then.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘You ought to go home and change, love. Otherwise you’ll miss your train. Your Gran will go with you. I’d better stay here with Harold.’
‘You look a treat in that dress.’ Gran embraced me. ‘I was against this, Emma, you know that – but now that you’ve married the man, be good to him. There’s no point in looking backwards.’
‘I know that. I’ll try my best to be a good wife to him.’
‘Aye, well, remember that tonight. For most men being a good wife starts in the honeymoon bed. Be warm and willing if you can’t be more. You don’t want to start out on the wrong foot, do you?’
‘No, I don’t.’ I smiled at her. She was so good to me and I loved her so much. ‘Like I always say, Gran, you’re a wise old bird.’
‘My advice is to get a little tiddly. It helps get over the strangeness of having a great lump of a man in your bed. They’re unnatural, awkward creatures at the best of times – but a good one is no bad thing to have around.’
After all the nervous tension of the past few hours and Father’s collapse, Gran’s no nonsense words had lifted the gloom. I went into a peal of delighted laughter and clutched at her arm.
‘Oh, Gran,’ I giggled. ‘What a thing to say!’
‘Lust wears off after the first two or three children come, but mutual respect and affection lasts forever. It’s worth putting your man first to have peace in the house, lass. And a little caring brings its own rewards.’
‘I’ll remember,’ I promised and hugged her again.
I was smiling as we went back to the reception. Richard was waiting for me. Remembering Gran’s advice, I gave him a look of welcome and his response was instantaneous.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said huskily and reached out for me.
This time I went easily into his arms. He gave me a long, passionate kiss, which brought some cheers from his friends and a lot of laughter.
‘We’d best get off or we’ll miss our train.’
‘I’ll just say goodbye to Mum.’
I hugged my mother.
‘Be happy, Emma – that’s all I want.’
‘I s
hall. Don’t worry, Mum.’
I turned to my father, who had regained some of his colour but still looked unwell, his skin an odd yellowish-grey.
‘Are you all right, Father? Shouldn’t you see a doctor?’
‘Happen I will,’ he replied, surprising me as he leaned towards me, his lips just grazing my cheek in an awkward kiss. ‘Have a good time, girl – and don’t concern yourself about me.’
‘Thank you.’ I blinked hard as unexpected tears stung my eyes. ‘Take care of yourself, Father.’
Then Richard was by my side, urging me to remember we had a train to catch. I went with him, laughing as an absolute deluge of confetti showered down on us from our relatives and friends. I squealed, feeling suddenly excited as we ran together and jumped into the waiting car, which was driven by one of Richard’s friends and had been suitably decorated with a string of empty cans that made a terrible noise as it clattered behind us on the road.
‘You’re all right now, aren’t you?’
I slid my hand into his. I had taken Gran’s advice to heart and knew the next few hours might be the most important of my life. I wasn’t in love with Richard, but he’d stood by me and saved me from the shame of bearing an illegitimate child. I owed him at least respect and a smiling face.
‘I was a bit nervous earlier, that’s all.’
‘You’ll be all right with me. I know you’ve had a hard time of it at home, but things will be different now we’re married. We’ll go out, Emma. Pictures and dancing sometimes. I thought you might like to go somewhere this evening?’
‘Could we?’
‘After we’ve booked into our hotel.’ He grinned at me. ‘There’s usually a dance on Saturdays in Ely. We could go for a while, if you like?’
‘I’d love that, Richard.’
He leaned towards me, his fingers stroking my cheek. ‘I reckon you’ve been only half alive until now. It’s different being wed, Emma. I’ll be good to you, lass.’
‘And I’ll be good to you,’ I promised.
I had three port and lemons at the dance. Richard kept buying them for me and I didn’t refuse. They gave me a lovely warm feeling inside, making me relax. I couldn’t help enjoying myself. It was the first real dance I’d ever been to and the live music was wonderful.
‘It’s so much better than dancing to records,’ I said, nestling my head dreamily against Richard’s shoulder. ‘I’ve never had this much fun. Not ever.’
‘Not ever?’ He glanced down at me, frowning slightly. ‘Even when you were out with him?’
‘Paul didn’t take me dancing,’ I said. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the tight look in his face. ‘Please don’t, Richard. That’s all over. Let’s forget him. Please?’
‘Sorry.’ I saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to spoil things. Do you want another drink?’
I hesitated, then shook my head. There was no point in putting it off any longer, and another drink might be one too many.
‘No, not for me, thanks. Why don’t we go back to the hotel?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure.’
We walked back beside the river, stopping now and then to look at the moon reflected in the dark surface of the water. It was a warm summer night, peaceful and romantic.
How wonderful it would have been if I’d been with Paul! I felt the grinding ache inside me, then pushed it away. I was Richard’s wife and must never, never let myself think that again.
We went into the riverside hotel and up the stairs to our room. It was a nice room with its own bathroom and a good view; I knew it must have cost extra. Richard had obviously done everything he could to please me. I picked up my nightdress and went into the bathroom to change, glad now that I’d taken notice of my mother and bought something pretty.
My hair was loose on my shoulders when I returned to the bedroom. Richard had changed into a pair of blue striped cotton pyjamas. He looked so different that I was reminded of Gran’s words and had to struggle not to laugh.
Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I walked over to him, looking up at him, sensing that he was almost as unsure as I was.
‘Kiss me,’ I whispered huskily. ‘Let’s start from tonight, Richard. Let’s pretend that this is—’
I got no further. He groaned and reached out for me, gathering me into his arms, crushing me against him, his mouth seeking mine greedily, hungrily. I let him kiss me. My hands moved in his thick hair, stroking the back of his neck, and my body was pliable, willing and warm, as he picked me up and then laid me down on the bed.
At first I felt nothing. I was deliberately closing my mind to what was happening to me, trying not to remember. I had expected it to be swift, over in a few minutes, but gradually I became aware that this was different. Richard was taking his time in arousing me, stroking and kissing my breasts, touching me with his big hands in a way that was surprisingly tender. It was having a powerful effect.
My lips parted in a sigh. I moved my head on the pillow restlessly as something came to life deep inside me. It was like the feeling I’d had at the start with Paul, but stronger, more urgent, more compelling. My body arched and trembled as the sensation of pleasure intensified.
‘Oh …’ I murmured. ‘That’s so nice …’
My words seemed to work on him powerfully. He covered my body with his own, thrusting up inside me, but even now he was controlled, sure, deliberate. I clutched at his shoulders, nails scoring his flesh as I shuddered with the waves of delicious sensation coursing through me.
Oh! Oh! I had never believed I could feel like this. It was so gorgeous, so delicious and exciting. I was panting, gasping, legs gripping him as the rhythm of his thrusting became faster, and he plunged deeper and deeper inside me. I felt as if I were falling … there was such pleasure I was dissolving into it.
I gave a little scream as the feeling gathered and my body suddenly convulsed with such an intensity of sensation that I could hardly bear it. Then it was over and I felt Richard’s whole weight fall on me as he too reached a shuddering climax.
Tears trickled down my cheeks as he gave a grunt and rolled off me. So this was what all the fuss was about! I’d wondered after my first experience of sexual love, but now I understood.
‘Richard …’ I wanted to share my feelings with him. To thank him for giving me such pleasure. ‘Richard, I …’
‘Go to sleep,’ he muttered. ‘We’ve got to be up early for the train.’
He turned his back towards me. I didn’t know why but I felt as if he’d slapped me. I wanted to talk, to tell him that he’d made me happy, that he’d banished some of the hurt and emptiness I’d been feeling since Paul deserted me – that I was no longer nervous of being his wife.
Richard’s gentle snores told me he’d fallen asleep almost at once. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Gran was right, it did feel strange sharing a bed with a great lump of a man – and yet there were compensations.
It was strange that Paul’s lovemaking had given me so little pleasure. Richard had managed to awaken something locked deep inside me. Yet I had thought I didn’t like him! I’d loved Paul – a first, innocent love that had died a cruel death. Perhaps it was my innocence, my guilt that had prevented me from feeling pleasure in Paul’s loving – or perhaps he’d been in too much of a hurry? Taking rather than giving. I had expected Richard to take rather than give. His patience – and skill – was surprising.
I thought about the man I’d married and how little I knew of him. I had no idea of what he liked to do with his time, of his thoughts, hopes or plans for the future. What kind of a man was he really?
I had tumbled into this marriage without thinking what I was doing. So far it had brought me more pleasure than I’d expected.
Closing my eyes, I drifted into sleep. As I was floating away, I murmured a name …
I did my best to enjoy my honeymoon. Yarmouth was a noisy, busy seaside town and had once been the centre of a thriving herring industry,
though the trade was not now as good as it had been before the Great War. Perhaps because of that, the town was now turning itself into a resort visitors liked to come to for their holidays and weekends, boasting piers, theatres and cinemas showing the latest films.
‘Isn’t this fun?’ I asked as we walked arm in arm along the front after going to the show at the pier. ‘I love it here, Richard. Can we come again one day?’
‘Maybe for a week next year,’ he said. ‘Do you fancy a drink before we go back?’
‘Yes, why not?’
I knew he wanted a beer. It wasn’t meant to be a question, more a statement of intent. He would have sulked all night if I’d said no, or left me at the hotel and gone off on his own.
‘Is everything all right, Richard? You’re not annoyed with me, are you?’ I gave him an anxious look.
‘Why should I be?’ He turned towards one of the seafront pubs. ‘Come on, don’t sulk, Emma. It’s our last night, let’s make the most of it. We shall be back home soon enough.’
I made no reply. His moods puzzled me. Sometimes he seemed to want to please me, taking me wherever I wanted to go, the next minute he was abrupt, scowling at me for no good reason.
The exquisite pleasure of our first night had not been repeated. He hadn’t touched me for three nights, then he’d taken me with a careless disregard for my feelings that came close to rape. I’d lain in the darkness for ages with tears on my cheeks, feeling the pain of my hurts and wondering what I’d done to make him angry.
In the morning, he’d apologized and made love to me tenderly. I had responded, but a part of me held back, remembering his brutality the previous night. Oddly, my reserve had seemed to please him. He had been especially nice to me all day, buying a pair of pretty earrings to go with the pearl beads he’d given me as a wedding gift. Since then he had hardly touched me.
The pub he had chosen was noisy and smelled of stale beer. My stomach turned as soon as we went in. I had been feeling queasy the last couple of mornings but hadn’t yet been sick. I’d hoped the sickness wouldn’t start until we got home. This was supposed to be our honeymoon. Richard wouldn’t want constant reminders of the child I was carrying.