Tilly Trotter

by Catherine Cookson

  Opening the communicating door, she stepped quietly into the room. It was in complete darkness except for the light from her own candle. She lifted it high above her head, and it showed him propped up on his pillows, his eyes wide and staring at her. His face looked pale in the light, his hair showing no grey at the temples looked black. He pulled himself slightly upwards and said, "Trotter... .

  What is it?"

  "I...I have come to keep you company, sir."

  He was sitting bolt upright now, and after a moment his head drooped forward and he ran his fingers through his hair muttering as he did so, "Oh, Tilly!

  Tilly!" When he slowly raised his head and looked at her again, he said, "You're sorry for me?"

  "It isn't only that, sir."

  "No? You really mean that?"

  "Yes."

  He held out his hand now and when she placed hers in it he said, "On top of the clothes or underneath?"

  She was pleased to hear a slight jocular note in the question and,

  turning slightly from him, she placed the candlestick on the side table, then deliberately with her free hand she turned the covers back and, taking her other hand from his hold, she turned her back on him, dropped her dressing-gown to the floor, sat on the edge of the bed, and slowly lifted her feet up and got under the bedclothes. And now sitting side by side with him, she turned her head slightly towards him but didn't look at him as she said,

  "You think me overbold?"

  "Oh, Tilly! Tilly! Oh, my dear."

  She was in his arms now and so quickly had he grasped her that they both fell back on to the pillows. And then they became still.

  "Oh, Tilly. Tilly." His fingers came up and touched her chin. "I never thought, never dreamed you'd make the first move yourself. I ... I thought I'd have to cajole you, manoeuvre you, and doubtless I would have at some future date even when my need of you wasn't as great as at this moment. Thank you, thank you, my dear one, for coming to me."

  His fingers now moved up and followed the bone formation of her face and his eyes followed his hand, and when his fingers touched her lids, he said, "You have the strangest, the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen in a woman. Do you know that, Tilly?"

  There was an audible sound of her swallowing her spittle before she said, "No, sir."

  "Don't call me sir any more, Tilly. ...

  Do you hear?"

  She was looking at him now.

  "Don't call me sir any more, at least not when we're together, like this, and at other times omit it as often as, what shall we say, decorum allows. My name as you know is Mark. Say it, Tilly, Mark."

  "I ... I couldn't. If I... ." She gave the smallest of laughs here and repeated "No, I couldn't, sir."

  "Tilly, Tilly Trotter, this is an order, you will in future, give me my name. How can you love someone you call sir? ... Tilly--" He waited for a moment. Then, his voice thick and from deep in his throat, he asked, "Do you care for me, just... just a little?"

  She did not hesitate. "Yes. Oh yes, yes I care for you."

  "Thank you, my dear. Thank you. Now I'm going to tell you something, Tilly, and you must believe me... . It's just this. I love you. Do you hear?

  I love you. The feeling I have for you I have never experienced in my life before, not for my first wife or my second wife, or for my children. From the first time I became aware of you I think I knew I was going to be bewitched." When she gave a slight movement he

  pulled her tightly to him and murmured, "The day I offered you the post in the nursery I had the feeling then because I just wanted to keep looking at you, and I wanted you to look at me. I didn't recognise it as love, but that's what it was, Tilly, love.

  I love you. ... I love you... . Oh Tilly, I love you."

  When she shivered within his embrace, his voice changing now, he said, "You know what you're about to do?

  It may have consequences and I may not be able to give you my protection, except in a monetary way. You understand that?"

  She eased herself slightly back from him till she could see his face half reflected in the candlelight and she said, "I understand very little at this moment. All I know is that I want to make you happy."

  "Tilly, my dear, my dear. Oh, you're like a gift from the gods. Do you know that? You, so young and beautiful, I... I find it hard to believe you're here. Tell me, does ... does my condition not repel you?"

  "You ... you mean, the accident, your feet?"

  "Just that."

  "Aw ... w!" The common exclamation had a sort of trill to it, and then she added quietly,

  "Not a bit. Not a bit. To me you're a wonderful man, all over."

  And a moment later she proved her words, for when the stump of his leg gently eased itself between hers, she did not shrink either outwardly or inwardly, but now of her own accord she put her arms about him and when his mouth covered hers and his hand moved down over her hips and she responded to him he moaned his joy, and it was in this moment that her love for him was born.