Song of Songs

by Song of Songs (retail) (epub)

  There were no serving dishes on the table – instead the plates arrived already heaped high with food; I looked helplessly down at mine. I was not even hungry and there was so much – but I would have to force it down somehow. I was still struggling when everyone else had finished, and my cheeks began to burn as I chewed desperately – then Ben leant across and speared one of my roast potatoes and put it on his plate. ‘For shame, Ben – stealing the poor girl’s dinner!’

  Ben winked at his sister. ‘I never could resist your taters, Ivy – you know that.’ As soon as Ivy went out to the kitchen to stir the custard he took the other one; and I managed to swallow the rest of the cabbage myself.

  The tea pot came out after lunch. Ivy’s Joe glanced at me, then said, ‘Perhaps Helena don’t drink tea at midday, Ivy.’ Two pairs of eyes swivelled in my direction, then Ben said casually, ‘Course she does – she was a nurse, remember? And nurses drink tea any time of day and night.’ He smiled at me and I managed to smile back. My bladder was pressing again, and I felt so damp that I was afraid there would be a mark left on the back of my dress when I had to get up. The man who had filled my womb until it overflowed went on stolidly sipping his tea.

  Ben had to nod at me twice when Ivy said she must be off to do the washing up, then I jumped up so quickly I almost upset my tea over the tablecloth. ‘Oh, please do let me help – after you’ve cooked such a lovely meal.’

  She made the conventional disclaimers, but I sensed she was pleased and she thawed slightly in the scullery, confiding over the soap suds, ‘Ada and I have been thinking it were high time Ben got wed – we did wonder about young Emmie Greenhalgh, but when Ben came over and told us, he said as how he’d had his eye on you ever since you nursed him in war.’ I was grateful for Ben’s tactful lie as I smiled nervously at Ivy and reached for another plate. The front door opened with the sound of children’s high voices, then banged shut again and there was silence. Ivy gestured towards the passageway. ‘That’ll be Ben going out with the childer – he always takes them out for a walk when he comes over – he’s got more patience with them than Fanny’s Bob has.’ She turned and looked straight at me. ‘Ben’s looking forward so much to having a family of his own, he were talking about it only last week, just before the wedding. And I can tell you, lass, you couldn’t’a’ picked a better father for your babbies.’ The small scullery had become very close and hot; I felt trapped there with Ben’s sister as she talked of his future – the future she expected me to give him. Then she added, ‘He were always good with youngsters before he joined up – but I reckon it were war as made him so set on idea of having his own – it’s only natural with so many of his friends not coming back.’ I turned my flushed face to the dresser but Ivy came up behind me, and gently touched my shoulder. ‘We were real sorry to hear about your brother, lass – it don’t seem fair for it to happen later like that – when you thought he’d come back safe.’ My throat tightened as I fought to control my breathing – I knew I should answer, but I could not. Her plump arm came round my shaking shoulders. ‘Lass, I’m sorry I spoke; you come with me now and we’ll have a nice sit-down and a chat in kitchen before rest of them get back.’

  We sat in the stuffy kitchen and she talked about Ben – but my tired brain seemed unable to comprehend her words; I nodded and smiled mechanically and she appeared to be satisfied. After refilling my cup she went to the mantelshelf and picked up a photograph; as she held it out to me it took me a moment to realize it was of Ben – in his sergeant-major’s uniform. He was standing very straight, facing the camera, with his left arm bent at the elbow and resting on his hip so that the three stripes and the crown of his rank showed clearly – and equally clear above the peak of his hat was the emblem of the Lancashire and Cheshire Light Infantry – the emblem my brothers had worn. ‘It’s a good likeness, isn’t it, lass? It’s me favourite picture of Ben – Ada and me asked him to have it taken, and he did, just to please us. We wanted to have it by in case… But he came back, and now he’s wed so I reckoned as how you’d like to have it.’ Somehow I uttered the necessary words of thanks as I took it from her.

  Ben came back with the children and we all sat down to a lavish high tea of ham and pork pie and bread and butter, with a feather-light sponge and rich dark fruit cake and spicy fruit buns washed down with strong tea and rounded off with a sherry trifle. Ben ate his way steadily through everything Ivy offered to him, then sat back with a deep sigh of satisfaction and let his belt out a couple of notches. Joe laughed. ‘Reckon you’ve eaten enough for the week there, Ben lad.’

  Ben grinned back. ‘Reckon I need to, Joe – my lass’s cooking is still in what you might call the rudimentary stage.’ He turned and winked at me; my face froze.

  As we walked down the street to the tram stop he took my arm and said, ‘I hope you didn’t mind me having a little joke with Joe, lass – about your cooking, I mean.’

  I said coldly, ‘How could I object, Ben? Since you only spoke the truth.’

  ‘Ah – well.’ He sounded uncomfortable. ‘Perhaps it would have been better…’ His voice trailed away, and we walked on in silence. There was no one else at the tram shelter and he suddenly pulled me round. ‘Look, lass – you don’t need to take offence – truth is, when you keep me warm and satisfied like you have been these past few nights I wouldn’t care if you served me army biscuits and bully beef every day. I can’t say fairer than that, can I?’

  He was waiting for my reply, so at last I answered. ‘No Ben, you can’t say fairer than that.’

  ‘So you just keep giving me a good time like you have been doing, and I’ll not say a word against your cooking. Is that a bargain?’

  ‘Yes Ben, that’s a bargain.’

  He leant forward to kiss me and the soreness between my legs flared up; but I forced myself to ignore it – I had made a bargain on the moors, and I would keep it.

  At our front door Ben said, ‘You go in, lass, and I’ll run up to plot now. I’m due at shed at half-three tomorrow so we’ll have to get to bed early. Fill me snap tin for me and then go upstairs.’

  ‘Ben, I…’

  He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a greaseproof paper parcel. ‘And Ivy sent this – she said she found herself with too much roast beef, and she’d take it kindly if you could use it up for her. So that’s all right, then.’ He smiled at me, and I knew he knew I had forgotten all about his bait, but was pretending not, to save my face.

  ‘Thank you, Ben – that’s very kind… of Ivy.’ He closed the door on me and I turned and ran out to the back. As I tried unavailingly to force out a few burning drops I suddenly realized I was still clutching the roast beef in one hand. I started to smile, and then the pain caught me as I stood up and the smile turned to a grimace – my discomfort was permanent now.

  I was already in bed when I heard him coming back, talking to someone. A man’s voice answered, and they laughed together, then Ben called out a ‘Sithee, Wally’ and I heard him go through to the scullery. It was not even dark yet in the small bedroom – the summer evening light filtered through the drawn curtains – and I watched him undress below my lashes and saw he was already fully erect. I braced myself as he climbed into the bed and pulled me towards him, his hands already at work on my nightdress. ‘Lass – you looked lovely today – I could hardly keep my hands off you. Come on now, and I’ll show you me appreciation.’

  It was an effort not to flinch back as he drove into me, but I managed to stay still – and luckily he did not take long, and I began to relax as I felt his manhood subside inside me; he would slip out more easily than he had gone in. But he did not slip out; instead, he put his mouth over mine and began to push his tongue against my lips, and with a sinking heart I realized what he was doing, and opened my mouth to him so that he would get it over with. His hips began to move as soon as he was fully swollen and I held grimly on to his buttocks as he began to press into me again – my bladder had filled and the pressure on it increased my discomfort
, so that I almost cried with relief when he began to throb and I knew I would not have to endure much longer.

  When he finally came out he pulled me close and nuzzled my neck. ‘I enjoyed that, lass.’ He settled himself more comfortably against me – he was emptied and at ease now, and he wanted to talk. ‘You know, first time I come up again like that inside a woman I couldn’t believe what were happening. I were that surprised I tried to pull out! But she knew better. She were a farmer’s wife – her husband had been killed early on in war, she managed farm herself, very capable woman she were – but when she had British troops billeted in her barn she’d look ’em over like – see which one she fancied and I were lucky one that time – and by chance we were sent back to that village again and your brother, he said, “I’ll put you back with Madame Dupont, if you want, Sergeant Holden,” giving me a wink and a nod like – there weren’t much got past him – though he were only a youngster. And we’d been up in front line and then in support for weeks, and I’d not seen sight nor sign of a woman, so you can imagine state I were in when Maree meets me at doorway. “Vennez issi, Benjameen,” she says – and I didn’t half vennez, I can tell you.’ He chuckled, and moved his head so it pressed against my breast. ‘And that were first time I did a double in the once, if you see what I mean. That Maree she knew a thing or two – but I’d best not talk about that to you, lass – what I were going to say were that with other women I’d only come up inside when I’d been without for a good while, and was full up with it but with you, I can’t seem to stop meself. I only had you this morning, and state I were in by dinnertime!’ He kissed my bare arm, his lips very soft, before continuing. ‘You get me that excited, Helena – when you sat down to table at Ivy’s you just happened to flick your skirt up and I saw a bit of your lace frills.’ He shivered. ‘Christ, I could have thrown you on floor there and then.’ He began to laugh. ‘I’d’a’ liked to have seen Ivy’s face if I had!’ And the vibration of his heavy body as he laughed brought the pressure in my bladder to a point almost past bearing.

  I whispered desperately, ‘Ben – I’m rather tired.’

  ‘All right, lass, I’ll stop nattering and let you get some sleep. Goodnight.’ He moved up and kissed my cheek and then turned over. As I waited for him to fall asleep I felt a little tremor of pride that I could arouse him to a pitch beyond that of other women – beyond fat ugly Maree ‘who knew a thing or two’. Then I wondered how many other women he had had, pushing into them with his strong hips rising and falling as he told them: ‘That’s lovely Maree – Jeanette – Louise… and I felt sick. But he was asleep at last, so I could get out and go downstairs to try to quell my insistent bladder.

  Twice more I woke and had to go down, but was very cautious and managed not to wake him; the third time I stumbled against the bed and his hands were pulling up my nightdress even as I was getting in – and as soon as I was under the covers he clambered on top of me. He did not bother to ask me now – he only grunted as he used me – while I lay beneath him with gritted teeth. But when he had finished he said, ‘You’re running out back a lot – have you caught a chill?’

  I muttered, ‘I think I must be drinking too much tea, Ben.’

  ‘Aye, happen.’ He snorted and fell asleep.

  I was dozing when there was a rat-tat-tat at the door and a voice calling out. I jerked up in bed. ‘It’s all right, lass – it’s only lad sent from shed to knock me up – it’s always done for a shift afore six - you’ll get used to it.’ He scrambled over me to get at the window, and shouted down; then he jumped quickly back into bed. ‘Now, come on, lass – I haven’t got much time, and I want to say goodbye properly.’

  I felt his weight come over on to me, and now as he pushed in he hurt so much I had to clench my teeth to avoid crying out loud. He was still thrusting vigorously when the church clock struck three; he paused in mid stroke to listen. ‘Christ, ruddy knocker-up were late! I’ll have to get a move on.’ The speed of his thrusts intensified until my whole belly seemed to be on fire, then he gave a last grunt and fell forward. But he began to pull out almost at once, while still throbbing, so he hung panting over my belly for a moment as his hips jerked to expel the final spurts – then he was off the bed and scrambling frantically for his clothes. He threw himself out of the door without a single glance in my direction, and I heard the clatter of his boots receding over the cobbles as he ran down the street. He had not even said goodbye.

  I lay on the bed with my nightdress pushed up above my waist and my legs sprawled apart, and as the last careless smear of his seed dried stickily on my belly I remembered Guy’s words on the sand dunes at Étaples: ‘and let me use her like a whore’. And now I knew exactly how Pansy must have felt, because my husband too had used me as casually and thoughtlessly as he would do a whore. Except that a whore would not also have to scrub his floors and black lead his grate and cook his meals – and even, perhaps, bear his children. I shuddered as I lay there with the tears running slowly down my cheeks and his seed seeping messily out of my womb. But eventually I had to get up – my bladder insisted.

  I did not go back to bed again; I sat huddled painfully over the cold range and accepted that it was my fault – he had had to marry me because I had behaved like a whore on the open moors; I could hardly blame him for using me as one now. Then I pulled myself slowly up and went into the scullery; it was Monday, wash day.

  Chapter Five

  I tried to light the copper, but the fire only smouldered, and then went out. So I fetched buckets of water from the range and poured them into the bath and pushed his shirts and underpants into it. I knelt on the floor and leant over the hard iron rim and tried to wash them; but the union shirt he had worn for work was grimy with coal dust and stained with his sweat and I had to scrub and scrub before the dark marks at collar and cuff were shifted. And the bending over intensified the discomfort in my belly – he had emptied himself so fully into me that now my womb felt bruised and swollen; and every few minutes I had to haul myself painfully up and go outside in the rain to the closet – although I had drunk nothing all morning.

  I could not face refilling the bath so I put his white shirts in with the others and watched despairingly as they turned grey from the filthy water. I forced all the garments through the mangle, but because of the rain I had to let down the drying rack from the kitchen ceiling and hang them over the rails, and as I pulled on the rope to raise it again pain pierced my belly and I panicked at the thought of the night ahead. But then I remembered all the times in the war when I had had to drive my tired body on in pain and discomfort; and knew I would survive – I was not a young silly girl any more, dreaming innocently of her handsome cavalry officer – and at least my dream had come true for a brief idyllic time; I would cling to that memory. And I went through into the parlour and picked up Gerald’s photograph and raised it to my lips – Gerald whose hands had been so gentle on my body, whose kisses had been soft and reverent for my innocence. But the war had hardened me, had torn aside that innocence – and so I had taken into my body a very different man, and let him use me casually and without love – and tonight I would have to pay the price. I kissed the pictured face again, then reluctantly put it back and went through into the kitchen.

  But thinking of Gerald seemed to have cleared my wits and now I remembered who I really was – I did not have to soak my hands until they wrinkled, or bend my back in aching toil. I stood looking at the pile of grubby towels and stained sheets and that filthy, crumpled overall, and thought: you fool, Helena – there will be laundries in Ainsclough for those who have money to pay for their services – and I had the money, thank God. But I would have to be cleverer than I had been with the gas stove – and conceal what I was doing; but that should not be difficult, as he worked long hours every day and expected me to deal with the woman’s work. I bundled up all the dirty washing and took it upstairs and hid it in the back bedroom – I would arrange for the van to call tomorrow; in the meantime my dowry would s
upply all the clean linen that was needed. I found my umbrella and basket and set out for the town to do my daily shopping.

  But before I reached the main street I had to turn aside to visit the building under the small green dome. I had to go back there again as soon as I had interviewed a suitable laundry, and then I headed for the butcher’s. I had barely received my loaded basket back from the greengrocer when I knew I could not hold out any longer – and I almost ran down the street in my haste to find sanctuary. Yet when I got inside only a few drops came burning out.

  As I came out of the cubicle for the third time the attendant was standing in the doorway. She turned and waddled towards me, her heavy breasts shaking under her flowered overall. ‘Now you come along with me for a nice drink of tea.’ When I tried to protest she simply seized me by the elbow and steered me into her lair. ‘Sit down, lass – it won’t take a minute – soon as I saw you come in for third time I put kettle on gas ring.’

  I sank down on to the chair, wondering wildly if there was some obscure Ainsclough ritual – three visits to the convenience and you were entitled to a cup of tea. I said weakly, ‘It’s very kind of you – but I’m trying not to drink anything today.’

  She sat down heavily opposite me. ‘And that’s your first mistake, lass – and your second is not sorting out that husband of yourn.’

  I stared at her, before finally whispering, ‘I – I think I’ve caught a chill.’

  She laughed and laughed until all her chins wobbled, then leant forward and said, ‘Th’ only chill you’ve caught, my girl, is from Ben Holden pushing your nightie up too often.’ I felt my face crimson. ‘Oh, I’ve seen it all before, lass – they’re all the same, men! When they first get wed they’re like children with a new toy – they can’t stop playing with it.’ She heaved her bulk upright and began to attend to the tea pot. ‘I’ll make it nice and weak – that’s thing for you at moment. Nah – men! My Henry was just the same – I were already carrying our Gladys when we got wed, but that didn’t stop him. So at th’end of first week I put on me shawl and went straight back to sleep with me mam. He came round, whining, but she soon sent him packing – went down there every night for a fortnight I did, till he were ready to see sense.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Here, where does your mam live?’ I thought of my mother’s face were I to suddenly arrive back demanding to sleep with her to escape Ben’s over-enthusiastic attentions – and for a moment I wanted to laugh; then the desire evaporated, and I simply shook my head. ‘Oh well, then you’ll just have to speak to him yourself, lass – tell him to tie a knot in it for a few days till you’re right again. Now, drink this up – it’ll ease you.’