by June Francis
‘It’s still standing but that’s all I know. Now let’s change the subject. We’ll be leaving soon and I want to have a few words with David.’
He left Rebekah and Edwina staring at each other. ‘It’s for the best,’ said the older woman weakly.
Rebekah swore and downed her drink in one go.
‘Where are we?’ Rebekah stretched and yawned. Disappointment and doubt had crowded in once she had known there was no Ireland at the end of the journeying and she had drunk too much champagne. Only vaguely did she remember boarding the train.
‘Chester, my dear.’ Joshua’s gaze washed over her. ‘I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s very attractive – medieval in places. The Romans were here, and it has some decent shops. If you’re good, I’ll let you have some money to spend.’
‘If I’m good?’ She stared at him.
‘Don’t look so frightened, darling. I’m sure you will be.’ He smiled and took their cases from the luggage rack, leaving the carriage.
Rebekah’s throat tightened with nerves but she held her head high, wrapped the white fox fur around her shoulders and concentrated on walking in a straight line as she followed him.
Joshua’s choice of honeymoon hotel could not have been more perfect if your taste ran to oak beams and white-painted plaster, luxury and a view of the tree-lined River Dee. She wondered whose money they were spending, his or hers.
As she stood gazing out of the window, steeling herself to make a move to take off her clothes and don the white silk nightdress, he said, ‘Come and undress me.’
‘What?’ Her voice came out as a harsh whisper.
‘You heard me, my sweet. Come away from the window and do as I tell you.’
Rebekah turned and looked at him. He had taken off his jacket and was in his shirt sleeves. There was a glass of whisky in his hand. ‘I’m tired,’ she stammered.
‘Of course you are. The sooner you’re in bed the better.’ He crooked his finger. ‘Come, my darling. It’s natural that you’ll be a little nervous but I’ll be good to you.’
Her hands curled into fists. ‘Can’t I have a drink?’
‘You’ve drunk enough.’
‘But it’s our wedding night.’ She cleared her throat. ‘A drink to celebrate?’
Suddenly the smile was wiped from his face. ‘I want you to remember this night, not be in a drunken stupor! Now come here, or must I fetch you?’ he barked.
Rebekah moved, frightened by Joshua’s change of mood. It was all right for him to drink but not her it seemed. There was a glitter in his eyes that reminded her of her father when he had beaten her that day she had walked to the bay with Daniel. She stopped a foot away from him, her eyes fixed on his tie. How she wished he was Daniel.
Suddenly Joshua’s arm shot out and his fingers fastened on the front of her peach chiffon blouse, pinching her skin so that she cried out and struggled. Relentlessly he pulled her against him. ‘What is the matter with you?’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Although your shyness does you credit, it’s a bit late. You weren’t averse to my attention before. I hope it’s for the right reasons, my darling, and that you are a virgin? That O’Neill didn’t have you?’
‘Why do you have to bring up Daniel now?’ said Rebekah unevenly. ‘Why won’t you let him lie in peace?’
‘Because I hate him,’ said Joshua, emphasising every word.
‘What? Why do you hate him?’ Her voice had risen. ‘What has he ever done to you?’
‘Keep your voice down!’ he muttered. ‘O’Neill turned against me like the others! Dared to tell me, “You’re making a mistake, sir!” Called me a coward!’ His chest heaved. ‘Rebekah, don’t you see what that does to a man?’ His pale eyes widened. ‘I thought he liked me! Even my father was the same. My brother was first with him, and he spoilt Emma soft. I was sent to Ireland to learn about farming and hated it. I wanted to come back but he said no.’
‘You said you knew nothing about the animals on the farm – that you’d spent hardly any time in Ireland.’ She was puzzled. ‘Why lie?’
His mouth tightened. ‘I didn’t want to talk about it. The war came and I joined the navy. I’d always loved ships. I met O’Neill when the government requisitioned his ship. We were friendly at first.’ He took a deep breath.
‘And?’ she demanded.
‘He questioned my judgement. My knowing what was right. He was as bad as father, not believing I could have done better by Green’s than my brother. He made a right mess of everything. It was a good job he died when he did or we’d have been bankrupt. Then I met Muriel and fell in love.’ He laughed. ‘She left me a note saying that she had only been going to marry me because she thought she needed a man after her fiancé was killed in the war, but at the last minute she couldn’t go through with it. If she hadn’t gone to Africa as a missionary, I would have cooked her goose.’ He smiled. ‘Now you’re a sensible girl, my darling, so you’ll do just what I say, won’t you?’
‘Will I?’ she stammered.
‘Of course. Come here.’
She stared at him, suddenly too frightened to move. What had he meant about cooking Muriel’s goose? She jumped when he caught hold of her arm and instinctively tried to pull away but he seized her other wrist and, crossing her arms, twisted her round and flung her on to the bed. She rolled over and almost managed to get to her feet but he was too quick for her. He pushed her down on the bed, leaning over her and gripping her with his knees one either side of her. He tore open her blouse and despite her attempts to free herself, dragged it off. ‘Joshua, please don’t be so rough,’ she cried.
‘Why? I thought you girls liked being manhandled. You read about it all in The Sheik,’ he said in a clipped voice, and hit her arm away.
‘That’s only a book,’ she stuttered, on the edge of a scream, as he forced her to part with her chemise with a couple of slaps. ‘I don’t want to do it,’ she stammered. ‘I don’t—’
‘It’s too late for that.’ His eyes sparkled. ‘You’re my wife and I can do what I want with you. Fight as much as you like, I quite enjoy a struggle.’
She suddenly remembered how it had been with Daniel and could have screamed. ‘I won’t fight you.’
‘What a pity, but perhaps wise.’ He smiled as with one hand he kept both of hers imprisoned over her head. She did not move as he forced up her skirt and took off her cami-knickers. She would lie as still as if she was dead. Her eyes closed as Joshua fondled her breasts and crushed her with his weight. A sob bubbled in her throat as he poked at her down below, was pushing, forcing his way inside her. Her whole body tensed. It hurt! She had not expected it to hurt. Her fingers and toes curled, teeth clenched. She bit back a scream but could not prevent a groan. Dear God, make it be over soon! He ground his way into her. Up down, up down, up down! His stomach slapped against hers and he was moaning. A scream broke from her as he pressed down on her with terrible force. A few minutes later she realised what Daniel must have done to prevent her having a baby, and also that she no longer wanted a child by Joshua.
The breakfast tray had just been taken away. Rebekah had managed half a slice of toast and a cup of tea but Joshua had eaten a full English breakfast. Now he lay back against the pillows, smoking. ‘You were a virgin. I’m glad you didn’t cheat me,’ he murmured, opening the morning paper.
Rebekah wanted to say, Yes, I did, but dare not. ‘You hurt me,’ she whispered. Down below she throbbed as if that part of her had a pulse of its own. Her nipples were sore and her ribs felt as if they had been crushed in a vice. He had taken her twice more during the night and that morning.
‘It was inevitable. I didn’t really expect you to enjoy it. Some women don’t. Especially at first.’ He tapped ash into the ashtray.
She thought how she had enjoyed that very first time with Daniel. ‘You made sure I wouldn’t enjoy it by mentioning Daniel and treating me like an object for your pleasure,’ she could not prevent herself from saying. ‘Why tell me that you hated him? Why las
t night?’
‘Because you said you loved him and you’ve never once said you love me,’ he said coldly.
‘But that’s bloody stupid!’ She ran a hand through her short hair. ‘You’re not going to make me love you by behaving the way you did.’
‘Don’t swear, darling. It’s not ladylike!’ There was a sudden seething in Joshua’s face as he flung aside the newspaper and grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Why did you marry me? One of the reasons I married you was for your money, but you with all your talk of its not being important wouldn’t have married me for mine. So why?’
Rebekah suddenly laughed. ‘I’m a fool! Aunt Esther said you were marrying me for my money! I should have listened to her but I thought it couldn’t be true because you seemed to have plenty of it. I was wrong!’
‘The young never listen to their elders the way they should. I’m not broke, my dear, but more money is always useful.’ He forced her against him. ‘But you still haven’t answered my question. Why? If you answer me correctly then we could be happy.’
She stared at him. ‘You want me to say that I love you.’ He made no answer, just looked at her, and she experienced a feeling of pity. ‘I wish I could say I did. I’m sorry.’
For a moment he was silent then he pushed her back against the pillows. ‘Don’t be sorry for me, my dear,’ he growled. ‘Be sorry for yourself. I married you because I knew it would make O’Neill mad.’
She scowled. ‘He’s dead! Why do you have to behave like this? Couldn’t we at least try to please each other?’
Joshua opened his mouth and she waited but he did not speak, only shaking his head before sliding over her. ‘I’ll make you forget him. By Jove, I will!’ She tried not to tense as he crushed her beneath him but could not help herself. He began to bite her throat. Her fists clenched and she started to feel angry. Why did he have to hurt her? ‘Hit me,’ he mumbled. ‘Let’s make a fight of it.’
‘No!’
He stilled and sat back on his heels, frowning down at her. ‘Why won’t you? You want to hit me, don’t you? Emma often wanted to. She threw things. Hit me twice and cut my head open, the little Madam.’
‘It must be the Quaker in me coming out that doesn’t like fighting,’ she said with an edge to her voice.
‘Little Miss Quaker.’ He laughed and seizing her shoulders, shook her violently, causing her to bite her tongue. ‘Respond my sweet, or else!’
Rebekah wiped blood from her mouth. ‘No. You’ve brought Daniel into this, so I will. You want me to pretend in some twisted way that he can still be hurt by what you do. Well, I can pretend too.’
‘What do you mean?’
She smiled. ‘You’re so clever. Think.’
Joshua did not move but his mouth quivered and she thought for a moment he might cry. She waited for him to say something but he just reached for his cheroot case. He lit up and took deep lungfuls of smoke until the end glowed red. Then, before she realised what he was about, he stubbed the cheroot several times on her shoulder. She reared up, gasping with pain.
‘You will never get pleasure imagining that I am him. Never! Never!’ He got out of bed. ‘I think we’ll go home today. Get yourself dressed.’
She stared at him, her breasts heaving as she regained her breath. ‘But we’ve only just come.’
‘Now!’ he yelled.
Rebekah was out of the bed in a trice, scared in case he burnt her again. She was certain her shoulder was blistering but dare not look at it. What was she going to do? Keep her mouth shut and not provoke him would be the wiser course. Be sweet and nice and a dutiful wife. Oh God! What had she done?
She dressed hurriedly, trying to ignore his watching her as she placed a handkerchief over the burn, and thinking all the time that coping with Hannah had been easy compared with the future she now visualised. Why hadn’t she given it more consideration? Because she had not been thinking realistically, she supposed, believing Joshua madly in love with her and incapable of hurting someone he loved. Money! He had married her for her money. When she looked back on their life in Ireland, when her mother had always seemed to be penny pinching, she felt slightly hysterical. What good had it done her father being thrifty? Suddenly she wanted to laugh and laugh, but instead she jumped when Joshua snapped. ‘What are you stopping and smiling at? You’ve got nothing to be happy about. Last night was only the beginning. Now move or we’ll miss the next train.’
Rebekah did not tell him her thoughts, only slipping her arms into her tan and cream dog-tooth checked jacket. She packed her nightdress and soiled underwear, then stood waiting for him to give his next order. At least, she thought, once back in Liverpool, you’ll be out all day. But the nights! The thought of all the nights she would have to spend with him made her fearful. Suddenly she remembered what she had said to Edwina about being miserable in comfort and thought how she seemed to go through life saying stupid things. Why had she not foreseen cruelty and fear? It was not as if she hadn’t come in contact with them. Little Mrs Rimmer, she had suffered both. ‘And survived,’ said a little voice in Rebekah’s head. ‘You’ll come through if you use a little commonsense.’
She stared at her husband as he picked up the suitcase, and smiled.
‘What are you smiling at now?’ he muttered.
She raised her eyebrows. ‘You’d rather I went down weeping? I am a bride and so I’m supposed to be happy.’
‘Of course you are.’ He smiled unexpectedly. ‘Perhaps we should stay?’
‘That’s up to you.’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘Whatever you want,’ she lied.
He put down the case and took off his coat. Still smiling, he unknotted his tie. ‘Take off your clothes. This time let’s see some activity. You can stroke, bite, suck – anything! If you hurt me, I don’t mind. A bit of pain heightens sensations, don’t you think?’
She gave him an uncertain look. ‘I don’t know—’
‘My dear, you do. Now don’t waste time. And afterwards I’ll take you to the Cathedral. You’ll enjoy that. And we must get some ointment for the burn tomorrow. I’m sorry about that.’
With a sick feeling in her stomach Rebekah obeyed him, and he seemed to be satisfied with what she did, although he landed her a couple of blows in her ribs for pulling away too soon. Afterwards she would have preferred being alone and suggested that maybe he would like to read the Sunday papers while she went to the Cathedral, but he said certainly not.
As she sat in a pew staring at the intricately carved stalls in the choir with Joshua beside her, she felt divorced not only from her surroundings but from reality. She was no longer the Rebekah she had been twenty-four hours ago, but felt a poor creature unable to stick up for herself. Surely this could not be what God intended when it had been written ‘Wives be subject to your husband?’ She was confused, deeply unhappy, and filled with dread.
It was just as bad for her that night but this time Joshua too seemed to be feeling no pleasure. ‘You’re holding back on me,’ he muttered, slapping her face. ‘You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?’
‘When you’re giving me pain, I can’t think of anything but that,’ she gasped.
‘As long as you’re not thinking of him,’ he said in a satisfied voice, and carried on hurting her. It was then she began to hate him.
The next day he suggested that he went shopping with her. ‘You’ll be bored,’ said Rebekah, powdering her face where a bruise showed, and desperate to be alone.
‘You don’t bore me, my sweet,’ murmured her husband, putting down the morning paper and picking up a silver-handled cane. ‘At least, not yet.’
He pulled her hand through his arm and it would seem to an onlooker that they were in harmony as they strolled in the direction of the medieval Rows that ran along Watergate, Bridge, and Eastgate Streets in the centre of the city. One had to go up steps from the street to walk along the covered arcades with shops running along one side. Rebekah was in no mood for shopping but took
the money Joshua handed her. Probably hers, she thought resentfully. She bought a new hat in pink straw with a deep crown and a dipping brim at the sides, a magazine and a bar of Fry’s chocolate cream. He did not ask for the change and she did not offer it. She decided then that she would save it for a rainy day.
They stayed two more days in Chester and then went back to Liverpool, Rebekah still suffering from a sense of unreality.
‘Welcome home, sir, ma’am.’ The maid, a smile on her red-cheeked face, bobbed a brief curtsey. ‘There’s a fire in the living room. I’ll make some tea and bring it in.’
‘Thank you, Janet.’ At least, thought Rebekah, she is pleased to see me.
And so it proved. Once Joshua went to work the next morning, the maid came in to discuss what was needed that day and to say how nice it was to have a mistress in the house after all these years. ‘One can’t count Miss Emma, if you don’t mind my saying, mam. She was no good at being in charge, always needed looking after. Very highly strung she was.’ She smiled. ‘I think, though, you and I can work together.’
‘I’m sure we can,’ said Rebekah, returning her smile. ‘First things first – food. I’m going shopping. You can deal with the clothes we brought home that need washing.’
Janet looked surprised. ‘You’re not phoning the shops, mam?’
‘No, I’ll take my car.’ Joshua had given her housekeeping money that morning and she planned using Tin Lizzie to go into town and shop at St John’s Market, where she had often gone with Brigid. The dinner she planned would not cost as much if she bought there sometimes, and what was saved could be put in her hoard. She thought of Brigid and how she had spoken on the Samson of changing husbands characters. Only dynamite, she thought, would change Joshua. At that moment she had every intention of being a dutiful wife and housekeeper but she had vague thoughts about its not being forever.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rebekah put petrol in the tank of her car and drove away from her husband’s house. Strangely, as she passed familiar streets, the feeling of unreality faded. Impulsively she decided to call on her aunt. The sun was shining and she would not be seeing Joshua for hours.