‘A woman with babies is seldom anything but obsessed by them – come, admit it. Let’s put it this way. Is she the woman you first fell for, lusted after?’
‘She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved.’
‘That’s as may be. But do you still lust after her? And does she oblige? There’s more the point. I could bet you five guineas that, since having the little ones, she does not. Babies are a regular passion killer.’
‘You have never been married. How can you know such a thing?’
Fred had to admit in his heart that Oldham was right. Of late, Ellie had shut him firmly out of her bedroom and too often in the morning the children were to be found in the bed with her, laughing and playing about while she sat sipping her chocolate and smiling with radiant joy. How he longed for her at these times; yet he couldn’t even approach her to make love to her and never had the heart to send the little ones back to the nursery when they all looked so happy.
Oldham saw the shift of expression on Fred’s face and added, ‘I observe, my dear fellow. I observe what goes on with men and women. It is a fascinating study.’
They stopped to look at the pond with its huge statue of Neptune and his eight white sea-horses recently illumined by gaslight and looking strangely eerie in such modern lighting. The famous avenue of trees where couples could conveniently disappear amongst the bushes was as gloomy and ill lit as ever– for obvious reasons. Tableaux vivantes with various scenes from battles and other famous exploits had crowds of gaping folks about them but they passed these by as of little interest. Fred frankly found the place boring and decided that he much preferred the Cremorne Gardens, which were a little more genteel, and not as run down as the Vauxhall had become.
They took a seat at a table near the dancing platform and ordered some champagne. The music resounded about them in lively strains; faces at other tables were filled with mirth and glee, heads, hips and hands waving in time to the fiddles. One or two couples passing on the path made a little jig and waltz together in accompaniment then let each other go again, laughing and staggering occasionally as if to prove that their merriment rose as much from the frothing bubbles they had consumed as the merry jingles of the park band.
On the table next to them women were laughing raucously and Oldham spotted a lively young woman seated there, accompanied by two other girls. He rose, bowed and asked her to dance. The girl arose with alacrity and Fred watched them as they waltzed around the dance floor. He twirled his glass between his fingers and felt awkward and shy when he saw the other two eyeing him, smiling provocatively. He looked the other way. He simply couldn’t summon up the courage to do anything.
‘May I join you, Mr Thorpe?’
Hearing a woman’s voice behind him, he turned and saw Sue Witherspoon standing there. She had a small black dog on a lead and smiled at him with that worldly air that always intrigued and frightened him. Rising, he bowed and pulled a chair over for her.
She sat down, picked the dog up and set it on her lap. This little creature looking up at her with its trusting brown eyes broke the ice. Fred laughed and ruffled its soft, silky black ears.
‘I often take a stroll round here at night,’ the lady observed. ‘My home is nearby and I can sometimes hear the music. If I feel the need of company yet wish to be alone, I pass my time thus. It’s interesting to watch the people and the amusing circus acts and so forth. It’s a very entertaining place, don’t you think?’
‘I think I prefer the Cremorne.’
‘They’re much alike,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I suppose the Cremorne has a bigger dancing platform, that’s all.’
The dances had finished temporarily and Oldham now returned after escorting his young lady to her seat amidst the giggles of her companions. He bowed to Sue, turning to Fred with an interested and enquiring look and Fred introduced them.
‘Delighted to meet you, madam,’ Oldham murmured and bowed low over her gloved hand in quite a romantic manner. Hardheaded as Oldham might appear in a business situation, when he was with the ladies, Fred noticed that he was full of charm and courtliness despite his apparent disdain of such things. But there was something false in his manner unlike that of Henry Winstone or Gabriel Rossetti who were genuinely courtly men. Underlying the charm was something furtive and cruel. Sue had something of the same in her manner and the two immediately understood one another without need for words.
‘You and Mr Thorpe appear to be acquaintances,’ Oldham said, his eyes still fixed thoughtfully on Sue.
‘We are, sir,’ she replied. ‘Mr Thorpe has been very kind to my little protégée, Jessaline. He found her some modelling work with Mr Markham and she does very well, I believe.’
‘Mr Thorpe is indeed a kind and generous man,’ said Oldham with a sarcastic smile. Fred felt embarrassed and looked away. The other two exchanged a glance and formed a secret, unspoken pact together.
When the music began again, Oldham asked Sue for a dance. She rose and placed her gloved hand in his and he led her to the stage. Fred watched them gliding gracefully. Sue was a good dancer and suddenly he wished he had had the courage to ask her instead of letting Oldham take the floor in that proprietary manner that he had. Fred was curious about Sue Witherspoon. She seemed ladylike but he knew she was not. She appeared well to do but he couldn’t be too sure where her wealth had come from. He felt convinced that it was from her activities as a prostitute. However, she was attractive, there was no denying that. She had a peculiar magnetic charm of personality.
When they returned, Oldham leaned to Fred and murmured, ‘Ask the lady for a dance – if she is an acquaintance, why not? Don’t be such a bore. You’re a young fellow. Come on. Don’t be such a Jeremiah!’
So Fred arose and before he knew what was happening, he was whirling about the floor to a lively polka with Sue Witherspoon.
The evening seemed to pass in a slight blur from then on. Oldham pressed bottle after bottle of champagne upon him. The other young ladies joined their table and it was a merry few hours of dancing, laughing, flirting and cheerfulness. He had to admit that he had not had such fun in a long time. A stupendous show of fireworks lit the sky. The younger girls leaned against the gentlemen as if in alarm, taking their arms and snuggling against them; it was all so familiar, friendly, and natural. Sue Witherspoon looked on, smiling and unperturbed, but her eyes held Fred’s provocatively and he felt a flare of response in his guts. Suddenly he felt as if his whole life had been spent keeping himself in control. A barrier inside him fell down at that moment and it ebbed away in the wine lees and the grinding raucousness of the music, the brass bands and the chatter and laughter of people around him.
He awoke to find himself beside Sue Witherspoon in a soft white bed. He looked around in some amazement. How on earth had he got here? There was some recollection of taking a cab with her and… had he made love to her? He simply could not recall.
Sue also woke now. Pulling herself up and leaning on her elbow, she stared at him.
Fred sat bolt upright up and was in a complete panic.
‘I shouldn’t be here!’ he exclaimed and made as if to arise.
Sue caught his arm. ‘Why?’ she said laconically. ‘Where else have you got to be?’
He sank down again and looked at her. She was naked and her flesh shone a pure white in the thin rays of the morning sunlight as it filtered through the curtains. He had scarcely seen his wife naked, let alone another woman. Clothes lay in heaps around the room. His trousers, he saw, were flung on top of a woman’s petticoats and stays. They must have made love. And he didn’t even recall it!
As if reading his mind, Sue smiled and passing her hand gently across his cheek and then his groin, she moved herself closer towards him in the bed. She didn’t have to wait long for a response. With a neat swiftness, she flung back the covers and climbed upon him, pushing his arms down in mock restraint. He stared up at her as she arose from his body like a white pillar.
‘You were very drunk and it
was all very quick,’ she said, ‘so why don’t we try again? A little more leisurely this time? It would be a shame to be so naughty and not even have the memory for future delight!’
Chapter 25
Fred spent several, long-drawn-out, tempestuous hours with Sue. They arose some time in the mid-morning and Sue sent the tiny slavey for some hot water, washed, and dressed, the little girl helping her to button up at the back before being sent off again on another errand with a hard slap for her pains.
Fred, who had swiftly got himself ready, went into Sue’s parlour and looked about him. It was tidy enough with plain, simple furnishings. He was relieved by this, as a dirty place would have made him feel uneasy and sordid. He had imagined she might have quite a boudoir, all lace covers, heavy velvet curtains and hangings but this was not the case. Only the large sofa of dark brown velvet was plump, soft, covered over with overstuffed cushions and lacy antimacassars on top of the arms and along the back.
In fact, some of her pieces of furniture looked very unusual, antique and elegant. A beautiful oval mirror with an elaborate carved gold frame hung over the mantelpiece. She also possessed some very good pictures and books, which surprised Fred, and he studied these intently for some time. What, he wondered, would a woman like Sue want with a book of Maucalay’s essays or Alexander Pope’s poetry, or even odder, Goethe’s Faust?
Sue came in now and saw him looking at them.
‘For my old age, what d’you suppose? The books are all first editions, you know. You won’t forget to buy me Jessaline’s pictures?’
‘I won’t forget.’
‘I’ll sell the lot one day but I’ll keep one or two of Jess,’ she said. A fondness always crept into her voice when she spoke of the young girl.
‘You care about Jessie, don’t you?’ said Fred.
‘We go back a long way, her and me.’
She returned to the bedroom to pin up her hair. Left alone, he looked out once more from the window of her rooms, which were high on the third floor of what appeared to be a ramshackle boarding house. His gaze travelled over the red roofs and chimney pots, which seemed to go on forever till they reached the river edge. He wondered about all the people who lived in this seemingly never-ending array of houses. Were they poor and happy, or degraded and filthy and miserable? What feelings moved them, what ideas and thoughts, if any? It seemed another world from his childhood home in spacious Russell Square and his charming married home in Hampstead amidst its clean, quiet streets, pretty houses and green fields and lanes.
What prompted people to come and live here when they might live poor, but surely happier, in the countryside?
He voiced this to Sue when she returned. She stared at him for a moment then laughed with some scorn.
‘All very well for you, my dear,’ she said, ‘you that were born with a silver spoon in your mouth but folks want money just as your folks do. Don’t you fool yourself that gentlefolk don’t want it too and grub around in their genteel way. Don’t you, with all your fancy picture-selling and clever deals? Difference is you lot were born with it but most of the people I’ve known have to struggle for every penny. Green fields are not pleasurable to those with hungry bellies, I can tell you. I know,’ she added bitterly. ‘I was born in a village in Essex and we were always hungry as kids. No shoes, no proper clothes, no nothing. My Dad was a fucking drunkard who beat me regularly, plus other things he did to me, which I won’t trouble your gentlemanly ears with. We all slept in one bed, top to tail and when my Dad wasn’t messing about with us girls, my older brothers would take over. All very cosy and in the family, you know. My Ma sent me out to work when I was seven. ‘
‘God!’ said Fred appalled, ‘I can’t even begin to imagine such a life as you describe. And then to be sent into service so young.’
She said nothing, just gave him a funny little sideways smile and after powdering her hands, pulled on some tight kid gloves. She picked up the little dog that had slept the night on the end of their bed but disappeared precipitately with the later morning’s activities into the other room. It now lay curled up on the deep brown velvet sofa. Sue murmured soothing things in its little black ears, which she stroked and fondled.
He noticed that her accent had become far less polite and ladylike now and was more distinctly cockneyish. Her whole attitude to him was different now, careless, and familiar. Well, he thought sadly, it was no wonder. He had degraded himself. He was part of her and her life now and he would never feel quite clean again.
They went out for some food, as Sue had not even a biscuit in her rooms. The streets were as always full of noise and commotion. Heavy horses struggled to haul along huge loads amidst the neighing and rearing of the more nervy animals that pulled the hansom cabs and their passengers. Omnibuses, loaded to the sky with grim-faced humanity, wove in and out of the medley of butcher’s and baker’s drays and other vehicles. Sue and Fred dodged in and out of the cabs and avoided the piles of fresh, steaming horse manure. Crossing sweepers hurried forward for the lady and gent, sweeping furiously away and shoving the filth towards the gutters.
The loud shouts and noises of street vendors were all around them and shops seemed full of folks as if on a holiday. Working women hurried around as if their lives depended on it, buying meat and vegetables from the street stalls. The more leisurely young women, the loose-living lassies with time to spare and money to spend, were in the milliners to buy gaudy bonnets, silks and threads and ribbons at the haberdashers, or having their neat boots mended. Street urchins pressed longing faces against the pastry shops and jostled whooping and yelling with delivery men on their way to the wharves or markets.
The traffic was impossible here. Fred had never seen quite such a crush as this or such a scene. He had seldom in his life ventured into the slums, not even with Gabriel Rossetti who always enjoyed being a voyeur of insalubrious places. There was no rest here, no repose. All was bustle and movement but to what purpose? Where was everyone going in such a hurry and such a frenzy? He could not help but think it was just hurrying towards their graves. That in the end was the only and ultimate destination for all beings, which begged the question… what, then was the point of all that went on inbetween?
As they progressed further into the chaos and confusion that abounded, they passed some of the dark, winding alleyways near the riverside. Fred caught a glimpse of barefoot children sitting on doorsteps and babies crawling about in the gutters, their clothes filthy and mud-encrusted, their eyes sad, and mouths slack and hopeless, looks of apathy upon their faces. Scavenging dogs roamed amongst them, looking mangy with ribs that showed through stick-thin bodies. He wasn’t sure which looked the most pathetic: the children or the sad, abandoned animals.
He averted his eyes from these scenes though he felt an immense pity at the sight of them. What hope had such children? He thought of his own babies and shuddered. Why were some born to be in this place while his children were so lucky to be born to him and Ellie?
For a moment the memory of his dear little family made him wince with regret. However, just for now his old life was suspended in time. It was as if he was acting in some strange play and he followed Sue who wended her way through the streets with careless and indifferent familiarity. They sat at last in an eating-house that she apparently knew well and ordered some food. Sue fell to with great appetite but Fred wasn’t hungry. His head still ached from the excess of wine he had imbibed the night before and so did other parts of his body from the excess of pleasuring he had just received. He wasn’t sure whether he felt ashamed or relieved. Sue had certainly fulfilled his wildest desires. Yet he was not happy at all.
He felt defiled and also felt he had betrayed all his beliefs and principles. The food choked him now. He pushed the plate away.
‘Not hungry, my dear?’
‘No,’ he said miserably.
She ate on and regarded him, her eyes narrowed and thoughtful.
‘So now we’re feeling sorry for ourselves, are we? Ni
ce gentleman. Why don’t you just admit it? You needed to fuck, didn’t you? Didn’t you? And I obliged you and it ain’t for free so don’t kid yourself. Doesn’t work that way. You know that, I suppose?’
‘Of course I do. But keep your voice down.’
‘Huh… everyone here knows Sue Witherspoon, knows her trade and admires her ways. They think I’m quite a lady. And so I am, my duck, more of a lady than some of those I see in their fine broughams. I learnt their ways when I was in service, I learnt to imitate all their fine manners and find out how to dress and behave. I won’t be poor all my life, that I’m determined. One day, I will be a lady and live in a fine house. Wait and see!’
‘I’m sure you will.’ He felt some admiration for her himself. She may well have been born poor but there was no doubt that she meant to rise up in the world.
‘Well then. Now you know. You needn’t give me cash – I’m not that sordid. Buy me those pictures of Jess and that will be good payment. ‘
‘So this is how you get all your pictures and books and things then?’ he couldn’t help saying.
Sue was quite easy about it. ‘Of course. Goods are better than cash. When I need money I sell something, a piece of jewellery perhaps, and then maybe buy something else. I’m getting quite an eye for a bargain. May even open a shop of my own someday.’
‘You’re clever and crafty – but it has a certain charm.’
‘You don’t know how crafty I can be by half. Oh, no, not yet,’ was the enigmatic reply.
Fred paid for the meal and asked her if she wanted a cab home.
‘I’ll take a cab and go visit Jessaline,’ she said.
‘Don’t tell her about… about us,’ he begged.
‘Why not? She isn’t a baby. She’s been in the game since she was twelve. She’ll think all the more of you to know you’re a proper gent and not prissy. Did you never fancy her? She’s young and pretty. Don’t tell me you didn’t fancy her?’
‘No, I didn’t. She’s far too young. It’s evil that so young a girl has to turn to such a profession. Sue, you brought her to it. You drag everyone down with you.’
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