by Martha Long
That’s it, the lot! Then my eyes lit on the little box. I lifted out a lovely big bottle of Christian Dior perfume. God almighty, he must have bought these for me and left them when I was sleeping. I tried to take that in, not able to get over it. Me heart was leppin with excitement. Oh, he was thinking about me. He must really care about me! Maybe that’s where he was today when he went missing. Ahh! I wish I could do something for him! He is so very, very good to me. I felt like crying with his goodness. Oh, Ralph, if only you knew how much I love you. I would give the world just to be with you always, I thought.
Right, have a bath and put on your new stuff. Wait, better not get dressed. It will only upset him. I’m hardly out of the bed that long. Never mind, I can put on the new pyjamas and dressing gown. Good idea, and I’ll wash my hair while I’m at it. Jaysus, you could fry sausages on this hair, the grease is that thick.
I had just plaited my hair and wrapped it at the back of my head, securing it with a big gold slide, when I heard a noise on the stairs. I gave myself a dash of perfume and looked in the mirror, seeing how I looked. Ah, lovely, I thought, smiling at the sight of myself standing in the silk pyjamas with the belt hanging down behind my gorgeous new dressing gown. I won’t fasten it, because I want to show off the pyjamas. Then I looked down at my feet, admiring the new slippers. Yeah, they’re lovely and warm, making me feet feel nice and cosy. Right, you’re looking grand now, Martha, nice and fresh and squeaky clean. Pity about the skinny look, though! Yeah, me curves are all gone, and now I’m looking all washed out, a bit too pale for my liking. Never mind. Sure, that’s nothing a bit of fresh air won’t solve.
Jaysus, I feel like a cigarette now! Ralph will kill me. Kill me stone dead! Fuck! I’m an addict! Now, where’s me bag? Oh, happy days! Life’s a bowl a cherries!
I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. ‘Bonjour, Madame Bouclé!’ I said, making a sudden appearance, giving her the fright of her life.
‘Oh! Sacré bleu!’ she puffed, then panted with her hand on her chest.
I grinned at her, seeing her face light up with a smile. She was speaking away in rapid French. I hadn’t a clue what she was saying. But I kept shaking my head and smiling, saying, ‘Oui, oui! Oh! Oui, oui!’ Then for a change, I dropped me face and hesitated with a shake of my head saying, ‘Ah, eh, non! Non!’
‘NON?’ she screeched. Then the door flew open and Ralph stood there trying to take in first me then her standing there looking shocked. She babbled to him, then he spoke to her in French, then the pair of them looked at me.
‘Martha! Why are you out of your bed?’
‘What? Why not?’ I said, looking puzzled.
‘Madame is upset. She asked you how you felt and if you were much improved. You said no. But of course I told her you are recovering quite well. What is wrong? Are you feeling unwell?’
‘No! I never felt better,’ I said, trying to digest how this bleedin trouble flared up so suddenly. He started speaking to her in French again, then she looked at me, putting her hand on her chest, giving a half-laugh and cry at the same time, much as to say, ‘I do not understand these foreigners and their ways!’
‘Martha, you look nice,’ he said, putting his arm around me and kissing me on the cheek. Then he pulled away, letting the light go out of his eyes, saying, ‘You have been smoking! Martha, I am not impressed,’ he said sadly, shaking his head.
‘No, nor me either. I’m sorry, Ralph, but I’m a bloody addict. I have been on them too long,’ I said, thinking I have left me smokes upstairs and I better go and get them. I can see Ralph is disappointed. I had been off them until now, but I have to have something to keep me going. Then I said, ‘Ralph! God knows I don’t drink much, I don’t manhunt, I might as well be a bloody Carmelite nun!’ I said, as I made my way out the door, raging with myself for letting him down and most of all myself.
I headed up the stairs and into my room, making straight for my bag and the smokes. I sat down in the low armchair close to the window and looked out at the lawns sweeping into the distance. The nearest house was miles away. I could see a puff of smoke wafting up through the trees on Ralph’s lawn. It was coming from a field close to a house that looked miles away. This place is so magnificent, I thought, staring out at the beautiful greenery. Then I sighed, thinking Ralph is very annoyed with me. Rightly bloody so, smoking is a killer. But it is a vice I cling to. I felt my heart down in my chest at the coldness I had created. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Kill me or not, I’m in no hurry to give them up.
I better move and see the lie of the land with Ralph. He’s leaving me to stew! I thought, seeing it was nearly completely dark. I had only the little bedside lamp burning. The rest of the room felt cold without the light but it’s actually very warm. No, it’s the coldness in me without Ralph, I thought, wanting to go and find him.
I stirred myself, feeling a bit tired, and picked up my tobacco and lighter, putting them in my pocket as I made for the door. I came down the stairs and stood outside the kitchen. Maybe he might be in the sitting room, I thought, not wanting to have any more say to Madame Bouclé. I was in enough trouble with her after annoying her.
I opened the sitting-room door and looked around, seeing Ralph sitting on his favourite sofa, leaning himself against the backrest, reading the newspaper. He looked up, keeping the paper in front of him, and just stared.
‘Hello,’ I whispered. ‘I’m terribly sorry I have upset you, Ralph. Can you not try to understand? I know the risks,’ I said, making my way over to him, seeing him staring at me with his face closed down.
‘Darling,’ he sighed, folding and putting the paper down. ‘I am frightened for your health. I can’t possibly dictate your decisions but please do try to give that habit up!’ he said, shaking his head at me, looking very sorrowful.
‘Yes, I’ll try,’ I said, planting myself next to him and wrapping my arms around his neck.
‘When?’ he murmured, with a half-smile on his face as I brought mine close to his.
‘Oooh! Just you wait and see! Any day now,’ I said, thinking about it.
Then he laughed, giving me a slap on the arse, saying, ‘You are bloody impossible!’
‘I know,’ I murmured, working me nose around to his ear, breathing in and out, getting ready to rest my lips sucking the skin off him.
I had just made my way round to his neck when he whipped me round in his left arm, holding me across him. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and he looked up, saying, ‘Oui?’ Then the door opened and Madame put her head in, seeing me hovering across his lap, getting held in his arms. She smiled, saying something in French, and he said something back. Then she was waving, saying, ‘Au revoir. Bonne nuit!’ Then she was gone.
‘Dinner is served, darling. Let us go in.’
‘Oh, good, I’m starving,’ I said, getting to my feet. I waited for him, putting my arm around him, and he held me to him as we made our way to the kitchen. ‘You have a lot of rooms in this house, Ralph. Do you ever use the dining room?’
‘Of course. But it is nice to eat in the kitchen. I find it comfortable, much more cosy,’ he said. ‘Why? Would you like us to eat there occasionally? I suppose we could,’ he said, talking more to himself.
‘No, no, absolutely not. I love the kitchen. It is very cosy, Ralph. Oh, what are we having?’ I said, seeing the big deep plates that looked like soup dishes, only bigger. They had been left sitting on top of a dinner plate.
He lifted the lid on the big casserole dish, saying, ‘Fish stew, your favourite, Martha. My, you must have impressed Madame Bouclé! She wants to please you,’ he grinned, pulling out my chair and holding it for me to sit down. Then he pushed me in, whipping open my linen napkin and smacking it in the air before landing it on my lap with a flourish. ‘Would m’lady like a little wine?’ he said, making for the fridge.
‘Yes, indeed, sir, she most certainly would. I have been deprived long enough!’ I said, thinking how bloody long it took me to get
my appetite back.
‘Yes, this will do you good in a measured quantity,’ he said, pouring a drink into my glass.
I watched him filling it, wondering if he was only going to give me a half-glass, because the glass was big and he might monitor that as well. No, I got a full glass and picked it up feeling delighted to be back on my feet.
I sat smoking and sipping my wine as Ralph cleared away the dishes.
‘Why don’t you put them in the machine, Ralph?’
‘Good gracious, no! Ridiculously awkward trying to get the stuff to fit. Besides, it makes a dreadful mess when it spills,’ he said, clearing and wiping, landing dishes in the sink. Then he swung on his heels, taking in the room, seeing if anything else needed ordering. ‘OK, sweetie, time for beddy-byes for you,’ he said, making to grab me up and march me out the door.
‘Not on yer nelly,’ I said, twisting away from his grasp. ‘No, Ralph, I am tired of the bedroom. I want to relax,’ I said.
He sighed, saying, ‘Darling, you would be more comfortable lying in your bed. Come on, Martha, we will lie together and do something.’
‘Like what?’ I said, gaping with me mouth open and a ready laugh on my face.
‘Naughty, naughty,’ he said, laughing and pointing the finger at me. ‘Are you after my virtue?’ he said grabbing out at me again, this time catching me.
‘No,’ I said, ‘you may keep your virtue.’
‘Good!’ he said crisply, raising his chin and looking disappointed, but accepting the decision was settled.
‘I want your manhood,’ I said, looking up into his face, seeing him grinning at me.
‘Martha! I need it for myself,’ he said quietly, looking shocked.
‘For what? Stirring your tea?’
‘Ohh! You jezebel!’ he said, grabbing and lifting me off my feet, nuzzling my face and neck.
‘Come on, carry me away to paradise,’ I said, making it sound like an order.
‘The lady has spoken. I am your slave, madam. At your service,’ he grinned, marching out the door then stopping to whip it open and boot it closed with the back of his heel.
‘Wait!’ I said, waving my hand in the air.
‘Yes, m’lady?’
‘The wine! We forgot the wine, Fitzgerald! Back at once!’ I said, waving him back into the room.
He stopped for a minute, thinking about this before saying, ‘Well, yes, of course. I shall need sustenance to give me the strength to get you up those stairs.’ He laughed, putting me on my feet and rushing back into the kitchen, then flying back out and whipping me up again.
We stopped on a wide landing with a long window looking out over the lawn, and two doors, one on each side, facing each other. Ralph landed me on my feet and I stood looking around.
‘Do you know, believe it or not, I forgot to take a look in your room,’ I said quietly, wondering why that had happened.
‘You want to see my room, Martha?’
‘Yes, let me be privy to all your secrets!’ I droned, sounding like Lady Muck. ‘One cannot allow one’s servants to take the upper hand, my good man. Good gracious! You could be hiding the family silver in that filthy little hovel, for all I know! Shocking! Goodness! Where’s me smelling salts!’ I puffed, looking around with my hand on my chest. ‘Call the butler at once. Tell him to get here immediately! We must have a search, and tell him to bring my salts!’ I screeched, looking up at him with a deadpan face after pinching my nose and breathing in and out with the drama of it all.
He watched me with a huge grin ready to break out on his face as I stood snorting and staring daggers at him. ‘But, m’lady, I am the butler!’ he said plaintively.
‘Then hurry, you silly man!’ I said, giving him a clatter on the shoulder. ‘Let us get in there at once! We must do a search.’
He hesitated, wondering if we should go into his room.
‘Do move!’ I screeched, then said cautiously, lowering my voice, ‘You go first, Fitzgerald. The man may be armed; he could have a shotgun in there. I do not want to have meself injured,’ I said, grabbing hold of my chest.
‘But m’lady! Who are we supposed to be chasing?’ he said, hesitating at the door handle.
‘The Fitzgerald man, of course! Who else, you silly creature?’
‘M’lady, if I may be so bold as to suggest, but I think you may be a little confused. I am the Fitzgerald man!’
‘What? But you just said you were my butler! Then who is this Fitzgerald person? How did he get into my house?’ I snorted.
‘But . . .’ Then he suddenly started roaring laughing, saying, ‘Oh, you are a clever one! Very amusing, you win!’
Then his face went serious. ‘OK, if you insist,’ he said, whipping open the door into a huge room twice the size of mine. Mine was big but this one was enormous!
‘Look at the size of your bed,’ I whispered, taking in a sharp breath, seeing a huge bed even bigger than a queen size.
‘Yes,’ he laughed, ‘this is the master bedroom. This was clearly my uncle’s boudoir.’
‘But the bed, Ralph! The bed!’ I screeched, staring at the size of it.
‘Yes,’ he grinned. ‘Quite big,’ he mused, looking at it as his head moved around the room. ‘I think perhaps he needed that for his entertainment. I am sure he would have had quite a few fillies frolicking about on that,’ he grinned, throwing his head back and roaring with the laugh.
I stared at it, seeing the lovely, heavy, carved bed ends. It was lower than mine and you could get lost in it without anyone knowing you were there. ‘You sleep in this all on your own?’ I said, looking at him, then at the bed and around the room.
‘What a silly question!’ he said, looking at me like I was mental.
‘Well, it’s too big for one!’ I huffed, annoyed I had said the wrong thing, and raging with him knowing that!
He had a big picture window through which you could see the side of the house and then far into the distance, for miles without seeing another house. ‘This is beautiful countryside, Ralph,’ I said, staring out to the horizon, thinking, how lucky to spend your life here. To wake of a morning and see that view. It’s heavenly, I thought.
He switched on the two bedside lamps and one sitting on a low table in front of a comfortable armchair. Then he switched off the main light. It looked so lovely and warm and airy, and the big, heavy antique rosewood chests of drawers and wardrobes made it look very grand and elegant.
I couldn’t get over it. I wandered over to look at a long mirror supported by a mahogany frame on legs. Then I opened his wardrobes, seeing all his coats and jackets and suits. Some looked like priest’s black suits, which made my heart fall and I closed it quickly, not wanting to be reminded.
‘Drink, Martha!’ Ralph said, handing me a glass of wine. Then he switched on a radio that was sitting on the bedside table nearest to the wall. Immediately the room was alive with soft classical music, then it suddenly reached a crescendo as the music become wild.
Ralph saw me listening with my head tilted to the sound. He laughed quietly, saying, ‘You like that, Martha, do you not?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered, ‘do you know what that piece is?’
He smiled, looking at me with his green eyes penetrating, making the blood rush through my veins.
‘They all sound very familiar,’ I said, feeling my heart go faster as the tempo of the music increased, letting the drama unfold.
‘What we have heard so far is “The Ride of the Valkyries”, “The Rape of the Sabine Women” and Beethoven’s masterpiece, the Fifth Symphony,’ he said, slowly enunciating each word very softly. I watched as his chin lifted and he rocked gently on his heels, straightening himself. Then he stared at me, taking in a long slow deep breath as we listened to the tempo quicken as the crescendo increased to a crashing roar. I felt mesmerised and our eyes locked as we took in the drama and fury of the violent, passionately fiery music. It raged through me, exciting every nerve in my body. I stood rapt, listening as the passion rea
ched its peak, held, then faded out slowly, the anger having spent its fury.
I let out my breath, feeling my body flop, and eased my stare with a blink before settling my eyes on him again. He was breathing fast but quiet with his mouth closed. Only his heaving chest gave the game away. Then he smiled at me, giving me a knowing look, like we both shared a secret. I watched him turn and wander over to the window before flopping down on a chaise longue. My gaze followed his movements as his arm swung back, propping the cushions behind him and under his head. Then he lifted his legs, stretching them and letting them rest the length of the chaise longue, before resting his arm behind his head and taking a sip of his wine.
I was still staring at him when he caught me. I didn’t waver as he lifted his head, letting his eyes linger on me, exposing me to the inner fire burning deep in him, showing me he was still caught in the passion of that music, and now it all poured out through his eyes. I could feel the power of it. The tension was thick in the air, making it hard for me to breathe. I opened my mouth, still staring at him, seeing his face melt into softness as his mouth slackened, letting it drop open. My heart raced. The blood pulsed through me, making me feel warm and soft, and I wanted to take the few steps and lie beside him and have him melt into me.
‘Darling!’ he whispered. ‘I do love you so much,’ he said, looking like he wanted to get up and come to me.
I felt speechless. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want this moment to end. I didn’t want to do something that would take it away. Then I heard myself whispering, ‘Ralph, I love you. I have never stopped loving you or wanting you. I waited all these years for you, Ralph. I have waited a lifetime for you, then some more. I have been waiting a whole eternity for you, Ralph, my darling man. Now I have found you again. I have come to you! Your letter brought me here. Have you come back to me?’ I said softly, almost in a whispered breath, feeling totally naked and exposed, knowing I could be brutally crushed if he turns away again. I have nailed my colours to the mast. There can be no turning back, I thought, feeling myself shaking all over.