by Rosie Thomas
It was very early when people began to leave, in twos and threes, gravely shaking Felix’s hand at the door.
At last it was time for Mattie to go and catch the last train north. She hugged them both, wordlessly, and they let her go.
Alone in the flat, Felix and Julia went round picking up empty glasses and clearing dirty plates. They moved past each other considerately, in almost complete silence, as they had been doing ever since Jessie died. It was as if they didn’t know what to say to each other now, and were afraid that if they said anything it might hurt in some way.
Felix picked up an empty whisky bottle. He stared blindly at the label, and then he groaned and hurled it against the wall. It smashed and glass scattered amongst Jessie’s possessions.
Julia reached out to him, but he evaded her.
‘I couldn’t even give her the goodbye party she wanted.’
Julia heard the bitterness in his voice. ‘You can’t make people behave to order,’ she said gently. Jessie could make people want to celebrate just by telling them to have a party. That’s what she was good at, not you. We all missed her too much tonight.’
‘Do you think she knows that?’
Felix had been so controlled up to this moment, but now his loss and bewilderment was clear to Julia.
‘Of course she does,’ she whispered.
Jessie seemed very close, then, in her over-filled room.
Felix nodded, and bent down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. He found another empty bottle on the floor beside Jessie’s armchair.
‘There’s nothing left to drink,’ he said. ‘I’d have liked a drink, now.’
Julia went into the kitchen and took out the bottle of wine she had bought for him.
She carried it back into Jessie’s room and held it out, an offering.
‘Let’s drink this. We’ll make our own celebration for her.’ She saw that Felix was looking at her, a long, careful look.
‘Jessie would like that,’ he said, at last.
Wouldn’t you? Julia wanted to ask him. Wouldn’t you like it, too? She remembered how she had wanted to comfort him when he came home on that terrible evening. She had been aware then that she had few enough resources to offer him, and she thought now that she didn’t know what they needed or wanted from each other.
Julia pushed the confusion of her feelings aside and held out the bottle. ‘Open it.’
They couldn’t sit in Jessie’s room. They went into Felix’s bedroom and perched on the bed. Julia had been in there only rarely, and she was surprised to see the drawings pinned over the mantelpiece. There were the pictures of herself and Mattie that Felix had done when they first moved in and beside them was the one of the two of them, with Josh, listening to Bill Haley. Felix didn’t look at it, and after the first glance Julia kept her head turned away from Josh’s.
They both discovered, suddenly, that they were ravenously hungry. Felix went to the kitchen for a loaf of bread and some ham, and they made thick, crumbly sandwiches. The first bottle of wine emptied rapidly, and Felix produced another. The bottle was dusty.
‘This is a first-growth claret,’ he told her, ‘I was saving it.’ Then he smiled, one of his rare complete smiles that made the austere angles of his face dissolve. ‘What better occasion is there than this one?’
Julia smiled back at him. He poured the dark wine into their glasses. Copying him, Julia sniffed it. At first there was nothing, but as the glass warmed in her hand she caught the scent of blackcurrants. They drank, looking at one another.
Felix settled the pillows behind them and they leaned back, their shoulders touching.
‘I miss her,’ he said softly.
‘I know.’
They didn’t talk about Jessie after that.
Julia lay back with her head almost against Felix’s shoulder. She looked around his room, at the work-table with papers and drawings spread out under the desk-light, at the bookshelves with their art and architecture books. She was thinking how separate he had managed to keep himself, detached from herself and Mattie, even in the confined space of the flat. This sudden closeness would have alarmed her, but for the drowsy elation lent by the wine. She sighed and let her eyes close. A strand of dark hair brushed Felix’s mouth.
She seemed very warm, so close to him. He could imagine the weight of her in his arms. The warmth, the solidity of another human being. His loneliness made him feel dry and papery beside Julia’s breathing, scented warmth. He took the lock of hair in his fingers and put it between his lips.
They lay very still, then.
Until Felix turned his head, almost against his own will. He saw the dark line of her eyelashes, and the fine down on her cheekbone. He leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth. She lifted her hand, very slowly, and touched his face. The thin skin over his temple was almost the colour of violets. The colour, and the scent of the wine blurred in her head. A strand of her own hair still clung to his lip and she smoothed if carefully away. Felix was shaking.
A second later they were clinging together. He held her tightly, too tightly, and the kisses he planted all over her face were feverishly hot. Julia closed her eyes and Felix rolled awkwardly on top of her. Their faces pressed together as they searched for one another, huddling closer to obliterate their sadness. Felix saw how Julia buried her face against his shoulder, trying to shut out everything else, and he knew that she was lonely too. A little of his desperation slipped away, replaced by a kind of wondering tenderness. He wanted to hold her, and warm her, and make her happy.
Was this how to do it? He didn’t know this way, but he didn’t know any other way either. Josh would know all the ways, Felix thought. The image of Josh rose up at once to taunt him, and Felix lay still, trying to stare it down. Julia’s eyes opened at once, watching him.
Not Joshua Flood, not now.
Clumsily, he began to undo Julia’s clothes. She helped him, smiling a little, letting him examine her white skin. It was so pale that it was translucent. Over the points of her hip-bones he could see the blue net of veins. He bent his head to kiss her there, over the hard ridge of bone, and her finger knotted imperiously in his hair.
When he looked at her again he saw that her face was soft, her expression remote. She was unfathomable. Fear stirred inside him.
‘Now you,’ she whispered. Her hands with their inexpertly varnished fingernails touched the neck of his white shirt. He undid the buttons one by one as Julia watched him. The black, springy hair on his chest made the skin beneath look milky. Julia saw that his arms and shoulders were surprisingly muscular for the slightness of his build, and she smelt his clean sweat as he lifted his arms to stroke her cheek and then her breast. His wonderful colour made her feel pallid.
She whispered, ‘Felix.’
She had forgotten Josh, in that moment.
Felix knew what he must do.
He swung his legs abruptly over the side of the bed, and it struck him that it must look to Julia as if he was about to run away. He unbuckled his belt instead. He took off his trousers and socks, sitting with his back turned to her. Julia lay with her head pillowed on her hand, watching the way the bones of his spine moved smoothly under the skin.
Almost defiantly he turned to face her again, and lay down along the length of her. He pressed himself closer and the touch of her bare skin against his own, with all its sameness and difference, was utterly disconcerting.
Julia kissed him, and then with the tip of her tongue she outlined his mouth. It was a darting, mischievous flicker that he felt almost as a taunt. His hand settled uncertainly in the hollow of her waist.
‘Felix,’ she whispered again.
‘Wait,’ he murmured. He reached up and turned off the light. The darkness settled comfortingly around them. Under its protection he began to stroke her, letting his hands cover her thin shoulders and the ripple of her ribcage, her little, hard breasts and the concave space between her hip-bones. He could feel that she was perfectly beautiful, a
flawless and completely contained entity, like a painting or a sculpture. The recognition excited him and he felt himself grow harder. His hands seemed clumsy now and he bent his head so that he could explore the beguiling shape of her with his mouth. She gave herself up to him, but he could hear her jagged breaths. Felix had mistrusted her knowingness, but now he was sure she was as innocent as himself. He wanted to say something loving, but he could only summon up her name, whispered over and over against her cheek.
‘It’s all right,’ she murmured, holding him in her arms. ‘It’s all, all right.’
He took her hand then and guided it, showing her how to move her fist around him. He groaned with sudden, surprising pleasure as she grasped him, as unerringly as he would have done it himself.
Julia only knew how much she wanted him. The simplicity of it amazed her.
She turned to him, offering herself. He touched her, very gently, and she lifted her hips to him. Felix felt the complicated folds, seemingly countless layers turning in on themselves, utterly foreign. The flesh was so soft and moist that it seemed to dissolve under his fingertips. Julia stirred restlessly in his arms and he felt fear renew itself. The darkness grew threatening instead of reassuring. Felix jerked himself on to all fours and knelt over her. He was certain only of the need to do it now, at once, if he was going to do it at all.
Julia drew her lip between her teeth, sensing the weight of him hanging over her. She thought briefly of what would happen if he made her pregnant, because she was sure that Felix wouldn’t take precautions in the middle of this feverish, whispered intimacy. She knew at once that she was going to risk it anyway, because she wanted to give him something simple, and because he was making her feel happy, and wanted, and perfectly desirable.
Without warning, Felix’s weight seemed to collapse on top of her. The angle of his jaw caught her lip but the pain of that was obliterated by the other pain. He jabbed at her and she bit her swelling lip and spread her legs wider, trying to help him. Felix kept his eyes tightly closed, as if even the darkness wasn’t enough.
The folds of flesh seemed impenetrable but he pressed himself into them, willing himself to be able to enter her, now, quickly, before he could think of anything else.
Julia had opened her mouth to beg him, ‘Stop, please stop,’ but suddenly their mutual struggle brought them to the right place. She felt him bury himself inside her. It was a long, deep way. A second or two ticked by before she realised that the shock it gave her was more pleasure than pain.
They lay still, fitted together, their breathing slowing a little. Julia smiled, and rolled her head so that her cheek touched his.
Slowly, experimentally, Felix began to move.
Everything was wrong, he knew that at once. This softness, the spongy, alien warmth. Even the scent of her. Coldness touched the base of his spine, spreading through his pelvis, shrivelling him. He screwed his face up and drove himself harder, willing himself to make it right for her. He could sense her puzzlement now, her hands fluttering helplessly at his back. It was too late. He was shrinking, away from her, and then slipping away entirely.
Abruptly Felix rolled on to his back and stared icily up into the darkness.
Julia swallowed, and the muscles in her throat contracted painfully. In her bewilderment she put out her hand and touched him again. There were only limp, moist pouches and whorls of flesh. She snatched her hand back as if it was burnt, and pressed the knuckles into her eye socket.
They lay in silence for a long time. Even though she pressed her hands into her eyes, Julia couldn’t stop the tears coming. They ran down her cheeks and into the pillow. Felix didn’t move, or make a sound, but she had the impression that he was crying too. Let him, she thought, with deliberate bitterness. And then, there must be something the matter with me. Some reason why they don’t want me. Josh, and then Felix. She fought to stifle a sob.
At last Felix rolled towards her and tried to pull her into his arms.
Julia held herself stiff. ‘Don’t,’ she ordered. She knew that he had been crying because his face was wet.
‘It was my fault,’ he said. ‘Everything. All of that. You’re so beautiful. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
It mattered so much that she was ashamed of the words as soon as she had spoken them. After today, after everything today, at least they could try to comfort one another. She turned to Felix now, and he wrapped his arms around her.
Clinging together they cried for Jessie, and for themselves.
And then, when they couldn’t cry any more, with their wet faces still touching, they lay in the darkness and held each other.
‘What will happen?’ Julia asked childishly at last. She had meant, to everything. To all of us, because we are so fragile.
But Felix answered her carefully, deliberately. ‘To you and me? We’ll go on being friends. Will you let us?’
After the rush of grief he felt peeled bare, clear-sighted and precise. He loved Julia, and he wanted there to be no hope of anything else for them. No reopening of the murky, fetid labyrinth that had almost lost them tonight.
He felt her nod her head, slowly. There was a moment when she might have asked, ‘Why? Why is it like this?’ He sensed her turning the words over in her mind, and then delicately rejecting them.
Thank you, Felix thought.
‘Of course we will,’ she answered. She was imagining how it would be. As simple and as comfortable as before, but with a new measure of understanding, bred from tonight. They would go out to work and come home again. Felix would cook in the white kitchen and she would learn how to chop an onion with the same deft movements, how to bone and sauté and braise. What could she teach Felix, in return? Julia felt the burden of her own ignorance. But if she didn’t know anything now, then she could learn. Resolve and determination and a sudden optimism stiffened her. Mattie would come home again, and the three of them could be together. They couldn’t fill the abyss that Jessie had left, but they could remember her. The thought eased the painful memory of the raw graveyard earth and the rain-sodden flowers.
‘We’ll live here, together,’ Julia said softly. ‘Just like a family.’ Felix hesitated, but the need for precision impelled him. ‘I won’t be here for much longer. I wish I could be.’
Julia didn’t move. ‘Why won’t you be?’
‘I’ve been called up. I’ve got to attend for the medical in three weeks’ time.’
The idea of Felix as a National Serviceman was so incongruous that Julia laughed. It sounded shrill, and she swallowed it quickly.
‘But …’
‘It was deferred while I was at the art school. But I’m not, any more, am I? I notified them before Christmas and the letter came last week.’
He had set the wheels in motion gloomily, knowing that he would have to get it over with. But now the time was coming closer, the prospect almost attracted him. The army would lift him up from here and drop him down somewhere else, somewhere utterly different. And that could only help, after all, Felix thought.
‘Poor Felix,’ Julia said bleakly. She couldn’t help thinking, Poor me. Now there’s only me left. Of course there won’t be any family. Jessie’s dead, and Mattie’s gone. And now Felix will go too.
Felix heard her, as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud. ‘I’ll survive,’ he said gently, ‘and so will you. You’re better equipped for it than any of us. Look at you. You’re clever, much cleverer than Mattie and me. You see things clearly, and you feel them more strongly. That makes it hard for you. But you’re brave, and you’re determined as well. You must be, or you wouldn’t have got even this far.’
I’d still be in Fairmile Road, Julia thought. Perhaps that would have been better. But she answered herself, No, it wouldn’t. Whatever happens is better than that. She felt Felix’s fingers brush her cheek, and then stroke her hair.
‘And you’re beautiful, you know. That always helps.’
‘Does it?�
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He had told her that she was beautiful in that ugly moment afterwards. Fending her off with assurances. Once again the questions quivered between them, but neither of them spoke. Julia understood that they would never be asked now. So close, but no closer.
‘Yes, it does,’ Felix said firmly.
‘Can I stay in the flat?’
‘Of course you can. I don’t suppose old Mr Bull will pitch us out, for Jessie’s sake. You could always share with someone, if Mattie isn’t here, to help with me rent.’
‘Oh yes,’ Julia said. ‘I could always do that.’
There didn’t seem to be anything else to add. She reached up and clicked on the light. She saw Felix’s coffee skin and her own, touching it. In the light it was somehow shocking and she sat up abruptly. Looking down at the space between them she saw a thin smear of blood.
She had wanted the first time to be with Josh. She had planned it, dreamed it. Instead it had been here, on this sad night with its secrets and empty spaces. What was it Mattie had said? It was all right, that was it. Only it wasn’t all right. Julia didn’t want to cry again. She swung her legs out of bed and stood up, holding her discarded jumper against herself. Felix’s hand caught her wrist and held her. She looked down and saw his black eyes, fixed on her.
‘Stay here,’ he whispered. ‘Sleep here with me. Just for tonight.’
She smiled at him then, an awkward, crooked smile. ‘I’ll come back,’ she promised.
She went across to the bathroom. It smelt threateningly damp from where the water had washed under the floorboards and into the joists.
Julia stood in front of the mirror for a long time. She rubbed cream into her face and brushed her hair until it crackled with static. She cleaned her teeth, then took her nightdress off the hook behind the door and put it on.
She stared solemnly at her reflection in the mirror. She told herself, You will have to make your life for yourself. You can. Felix believes it, too. You can’t expect anyone else to help you, because they have to help themselves. Mattie. Felix. Josh. Betty and Vernon, even. That’s the truth, isn’t it? She had almost turned away, but she added, If what you want is Josh Flood, he won’t come to you. You will have to go to him. That’s also the truth.