by June Francis
‘Why does she hate you?’ Ben stared down at Grace.
‘I’d rather not talk about it,’ she murmured.
‘If that’s how you feel, it’s all right by me.’ He began to button up his overcoat. ‘Move yourself and let’s go for our walk.’
She stood up and fetched her new green winter coat with its beaver lamb collar and her tan gloves and tan felt cloche hat. As they left their bedroom on the second floor of the Prince of Wales hotel, Grace felt near to tears. It was not that she would not enjoy a walk, especially when the shops and Lord Street were decorated already for Christmas with lights and looked wonderful when it was dark – she felt hurt by Ben’s eagerness for a walk. It was probably because he was in no rush to make love to her – he was most likely remembering his first wife whom he had been madly in love with, and still was, deep within his heart. How could this convenient match with herself compare? Well, they were just going to have to make it work for Simon’s sake, if not their own, because they were tied to each other till death they did part, she thought.
Then, of course, there was this so-called message from Dougie that Ben had mentioned. She had to admit she had been surprised, if not relieved, when Dougie had not responded to her letter back in October. Knowing how he hated to be slighted, she had expected him to rant at her, in a letter, if not the flesh. Dougie had always been so possessive about her, Grace had been bracing herself for an outpouring.
Suddenly, she was aware that the wind had risen. She glanced sidelong at the silent Ben and wondered what he was thinking. She found herself saying, ‘The only thing I find wrong with Southport is that it doesn’t have what I call a proper “front”.’
‘It has a pier,’ Ben said, looking down at her from beneath the brim of his trilby.
‘Piers are interesting,’ Grace said with a shiver. ‘But it takes some time for the tide to come in here. I wonder why that is. Surely, it’s the Irish Sea that washes Lancashire’s shores. I mean we can see Blackpool Tower along the coast from here and the tide rolls up the beach there.’
He reached out and took her hand and drew it through his arm.
‘Write into the Echo, I’m sure they’ll find out for you. Because there’s bound to be others who’ve asked themselves the same question.’
‘I’ll do that, although I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad knows, him being a sailor.’
‘Perhaps it has to do with the coast being curved along a huge bay between here and Blackpool, and that’s why we can see the tower.’
‘Shall we go and have a look to see if the tide is on its way in?’
‘No, you’re shivering. Let’s turn back and ask at the hotel for two mugs of cocoa and go to bed.’
‘Good idea! Just what I need,’ she said, hugging his arm.
Once back in their bedroom, Ben rang for room service and asked for two mugs of cocoa. While they waited for their drinks, Grace went along the corridor to a bathroom for a wash. She did consider having a bath, but decided there were people who might wish to use the lavatory in a hurry. She changed into her negligee while in the bathroom and then hurried back to the bedroom with her clothes under her arm.
‘What’s this? Changed already,’ said Ben, taking her clothes from her and placing them on a chair.
Grace noticed the cocoa had been delivered and that Ben had removed his wedding suit and was wearing a light blue and black patterned dressing gown. She was unsure what he was wearing underneath because his muscular calves were bare.
‘I’ll just nip to the lavatory,’ he said. ‘Drink up your cocoa. Don’t let it get cold.’
She took the mug and placed it on the cabinet on the right side of the bed and climbed beneath the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders and reached for her mug. She leaned back against the pillows and said a prayer for her father and Simon and gave thanks that everything had gone off well that day so far and asked that she and Ben would please each other.
The door opened and Ben entered just as she placed her empty cocoa mug on the cabinet. He drank the remains of his cocoa and placed their mugs back on the tray. Then he removed his dressing gown and she saw he was wearing a nightshirt that was unbuttoned at the neck and reached to his knees. He slid into bed on the left side and said, ‘I presume you always sleep on the right side of the bed?’
‘I normally sleep in the middle of the bed, but face right,’ she replied. ‘Why, do you want to sleep on this side?’ She made to get out and moved to the other side. He shuffled to the centre of the bed, watching her. She climbed into the left side of the bed and nudged him to move over with an elbow. He did not move. ‘I’m going to be squashed,’ she said. ‘You need to move over.’
‘I know your game,’ he said. ‘Do you know the song, “There’s two in the bed and the little one said, ‘Roll over, roll over?’ They both rolled over, and one fell out.”’
‘You’ve altered the words,’ Grace said, laughing.
‘Of course, I have to, it suits the situation we’re in.’
‘Are you saying if you roll over to give me more room, you’ll fall out?’
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
‘That you’ll only fall out if you move too far.’
‘Then I suggest we both stay in the centre of the bed,’ said Ben.
Grace said, ‘We both can’t stay in the centre of the bed.’
‘We can,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘All we have to do is cuddle up close. It’s cosy that way.’
Grace could feel her heartbeat accelerating as his arms embraced her and he drew her closer. She stammered, ‘Of course, you have experience of this. You’ve been married before.’
‘I have, but you’re forgetting my wife was not a well woman and there’s been times when I’ve wondered how we managed to conceive Simon. Lovemaking wasn’t often on the cards.’
‘That must have been difficult for you,’ Grace said sympathetically, slipping an arm about his waist over his nightshirt. She realised he had no underpants on beneath the nightshirt and suddenly she was shivering with nerves.
‘I appreciate that, but you’re a virgin, so how can you know of my frustration?’ He slackened his hold of her. Grace tensed, afraid that she had said the wrong thing. Ben misreading her expression asked quickly, ‘Or am I mistaken and you’re not a virgin—’
Grace felt anger rising inside her and drew away from him, only for him to pull her close again and said jokingly, ‘Tell me what you have to say for yourself?’
‘What a thing to say! You insult me, Ben. I’m no innocent, but I am a virgin.’
‘No innocent – what does that mean?’
‘Free me and I’ll show you,’ Grace said, struggling in his grasp. He released her and watched as she went over to her suitcase and began to take clothes out and place them neatly on the dressing table. Then she produced what looked to him like books and she brought them over and hesitated slightly before tossing them in his direction. She did not get into bed but stood at the foot of it, watching him.
He picked up the first book and read the title, Married Love, and then the other, The Human Body. Ben raised his eyebrows and grinned, ‘Have you read both?’
Relieved that he was not cross, Grace climbed into bed. ‘Not completely and there are sections I just don’t understand. Milly lent me them a short while ago. I had no mother to go to, and my aunt would have thought the worst of me if I’d asked her for advice, especially how things stand with us after my breaking with Dougie.’
‘You never thought we could do just what came naturally? Why didn’t you ask me?’
‘That might have worked if…’ she hesitated ‘…if ours was more than a convenient match.’
‘I can see how it could have seemed like that to you,’ he said, and then was silent for what seemed an age to Grace.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,’ she said.
‘No, there’s no need for you to say you’re sorry. I have to admit that our marriage is convenient for me but I thought you w
ould find it convenient as well.’
‘But I made a vow to love you,’ she said.
Ben drew her down close to him. ‘I think we’ll grow to love each other over time and as we get to know each other better. As it is, we like and respect each other.’
He started to kiss her, partly covering her body with his. Her arms went up around his neck, and it was not until he removed them and planted little kisses down her throat and upper curve of a breast did it occur to her that they were doing what came naturally and she wanted it to go on for ever. Then to her surprise, he lifted himself off her slightly and said playfully, ‘Perhaps now’s the time to read those books?’
* * *
The following morning, they woke to the sound of rain on the windowpanes.
‘Blast!’ exclaimed Grace sleepily. ‘It’s raining.’
‘Then let’s stay in bed,’ Ben said cheerfully.
She gazed into his twinkling brown eyes. ‘That sounds lovely, but I’m hungry.’
‘Madam, can have both,’ he said. ‘I asked if we could have breakfast served in our room.’
She kissed him. ‘Oh, you are clever.’
‘I knew that would please us both,’ he said. ‘And later, rain or no rain, we’ll go and see if the tide is in and if it isn’t, we can walk on the sand and then along the pier if it’s open.’
After a breakfast of cornflakes, bacon and egg, and toast and marmalade, Ben tossed one of the books to her and suggested in all seriousness that they read parts of them with their pot of tea.
‘No doubt Jimmy, as well as Milly, have read them, and they seem happy enough.’
‘And now they have the twins who are adorable,’ said Grace.
Only later as they walked along the beach after the rain had stopped did they share some of what they had read. They also talked of other things, such as the wedding and their guests, but soon the talk turned to places they would like to visit, their favourite foods, films and the games they played as children. They held back from discussing what the future might hold, as both were aware of Norman’s recent operation, but they did remark how nice it would be to have a new house with a bathroom and indoor lavatory as well as a garden. Grace then asked Ben about his job and whether he really enjoyed it. Ben nodded.
‘Although, I would like a change from making window and door frames, but that’s where the demand is, so I have to stick at it.’
‘What about furniture?’
‘I occasionally turn my hand to making something more creative. I’ve made some of the furniture in the house as well as some toys for Simon. I enjoy carving and I’d do more of it if I had the time to market it. It was my brother who taught me. He was really creative.’
‘I can’t wait to see what you’ve created with those nimble fingers of yours. I like embroidery, but I haven’t done much since I moved back in with Dad and started my job at the dentist’s.’
He reached for her hand and gazed down at the shiny new wedding ring on her work-worn left hand. ‘I wish I could have bought you an engagement ring.’ He drew her hand through his arm. A chill wind had risen and was whipping the sand up, as well as fluttering her tartan woollen headscarf.
‘Thank you for the thought, but I don’t need one. I’m content with this golden band.’
‘I’m glad about that,’ he said. ‘Shall we go and find a nice, warm cafe and have some fish and chips?’
‘Yeah, that sounds great.’ She hugged his arm. ‘Could we go to the flicks this afternoon?’
‘I was going to suggest that as it’ll be warmer than walking along the pier.’
‘Great minds think alike,’ she said.
But when they asked in the cafe, it was to be told there wasn’t a picture palace in Southport and it was suggested that they visit the Garrick Theatre, although it was doubtful there would be a matinee performance on a Monday afternoon. They decided to gaze in the shop windows under cover of the Victorian wrought-iron and glass arcade along Lord Street. They saw little to tempt them and returned to the hotel to be told by the receptionist that there would be a tea dance in an hour in the hotel’s ballroom.
The pair rushed upstairs and had a rest and a cuddle on the bed before changing into something more suitable for dancing. Grace pulled on a floral organdie frock with a cream cotton underskirt which she had bought in a sale at Lewis’s. The underskirt had some of the stitching undone. She admitted the only dancing that she had ever done was barn dancing in the church hall. As he watched her, Ben replied that the only dances he knew were the waltz and the polka.
‘We can always just watch and see whether we can pick up the steps,’ Grace suggested.
‘Agreed,’ he said, offering his hand. ‘Let’s shake on it.’
So, they did, and walked downstairs hand in hand. Tables for two were set out in a circle around the dance floor in the ballroom. They chose one not too close to the band, a waiter came up to them immediately bearing a pot of tea and teacups and saucers.
‘I can scarcely believe this is me sitting here,’ said Grace. ‘Is it real?’
‘Of course, it’s real!’ Ben paused, his head cocked to one side. ‘How about a dance? If my ears don’t deceive me the band have just struck up a polka.’
He rose to his feet and held out a hand to her. Grace placed her hand in that of her husband and in no time at all he was whirling her around the dance floor. At first, she almost fell over his feet and Ben had to lift her up by the waist to prevent them both from losing their balance. Then Grace caught the rhythm and by the time the dance came to an end, she was breathless with laughter.
They sat out the next dance and had a cup of tea, and shortly after they danced the last waltz and then went upstairs to have a rest before getting ready for dinner. She did not know what Ben might have had in mind when they lay side by side on the bed in their underwear, but she found herself drifting off and when she regained consciousness, it was to the feel of his arms around her and her head against his shoulder and she could hear his steady breathing and guessed that he had fallen asleep as well. She lay there, unmoving until she realised his breathing had changed and sensed that he was awake.
‘I suppose we should be making a move,’ he said.
She agreed, but added, ‘But I’m so comfortable.’
‘Me too, but I’m hungry.’
Reluctantly they disentangled themselves and dressed and went downstairs. Over a meal of cream of vegetable soup, game pie and fried potatoes, they discussed whether they should go straight home after breakfast in the morning or spend the morning in Southport and aim to be home in time for Grace to cook a dinner for the four of them.
‘I think I’ve seen enough of Southport,’ said Grace, after swallowing a mouthful of tasty game pie. ‘What about going to Formby on the way home and walking along the beach there and watching the waves crashing on the sand?’
‘That’s a smashing idea,’ Ben said.
She beamed at him and managed to hold back from saying that it was a place that she and her cousins, Dougie and the girls, had visited with her aunt and uncle by train as young children. She recalled how Dougie had challenged her and her sisters to leap off the top of a high sandhill. Grace had not wanted to do it as she was scared of heights. Dougie had called her ‘a scaredy boots!’ and pushed her over the edge. She remembered the feeling when she had plunged into the hard sand below. How was it she had allowed the bullying actions of Dougie as a child to have slipped her memory? How had she allowed herself at sixteen to be so infatuated with him as not to see what he was really like?
‘You look miles away,’ said Ben. ‘What are you thinking?’
She hesitated briefly. ‘I was thinking of Simon and Dad and how much they’d enjoy a trip to Formby beach.’
‘Then what about just the two of us going to Formby this time and we’ll take Simon and Norman another time when the weather is warmer?’
Despite a chillness about her heart, Grace agreed, hoping her father would still be alive when the we
ather warmed up.
* * *
Before they left the hotel, Grace made a point of asking the receptionist whether there was anywhere in Southport she could buy a game pie. She hastened to add, ‘I’m sure your chef makes his own, but I’m sure my father and stepson would enjoy any game pie when we arrive home.’ The receptionist smiled and said she would look into it.
An hour later a maid knocked on their bedroom door and handed a well wrapped package to Grace. ‘The chef sent this with his compliments and with his wishes that your family enjoy it and that we have the pleasure of serving you again.’ Grace was almost overcome, but managed to express her gratitude, and to wish her and all the staff a happy Christmas as she handed over a large tip.
She explained to Ben and he felt the weight of the package and said, ‘I reckon there’s plenty enough there for the four of us. Kind of him. Wrapped as it is and what with the cold weather it should be fine, even with us going to Formby.’
Chapter 15
The newly-weds enjoyed their time on the Formby shore, having managed to leave their luggage with the station master before setting out on the walk to the beach a couple of miles away. The tide was on its way in, so they walked down to the water’s edge and despite the cold, removed their shoes, socks and stockings to have a paddle. When they could bear the temperature no longer, they ran hand in hand along the sands whooping like children before settling on a low sandhill to watch the waves.
‘I enjoyed that,’ said Grace as they brushed the sand off their feet and then set out for the station where they reclaimed their possessions and caught the Liverpool train home.
‘Me too,’ Ben said. ‘I felt carefree, just what I needed before having to settle down to earning a living again and coping with ordinary life.’
She darted him a questioning look. ‘But it won’t be the old ordinary life, will it? Not now we’re married and living together with Simon and Dad.’