by Penny Best
Those dark eyes twinkle, he sups from the cup and stuffs in the last of the cake and smiles. Why is it that I never want Ernest to stop looking at me that way?
“You’re only going a few fields over to clean from some filthy men! And I’m none too pleased about it!” Mammy tells me while I stuff another cleaning scarf into the packed satchel and fix a few stray hairs again in the mirror on the nail by the backdoor. “Did you take a bottle of tea and something nice to eat?”
Dottie has seen to my needs, mothering me like I’m her own. “Take no nonsense from them,” Dottie says over her thick spectacles, “There’s no shame in coming home if those twins aren’t good to you or you don’t want to be away from home.”
Dottie wouldn’t understand the longing in me to be with Ernest. The draw of those eyes, the hard chest, the sweet breath, those pulls on my hair, the way he looks at me. She’d never let me go if she knew my plans to seduce him and take him as my own.
The mizzling rain isn’t dampening the new life I’m making. The long march on the road with the spare bucket, brush and mop doesn’t bother me. I refuse to walk across the mucky fields and the tight walk up the hill is fine even when the rain starts in earnest. When I turn in the gate and spy the avenue and front yard, the torrents of rain wash all romance away. Back down the hill all hope flows, in many rivulets.
The sheep dog is chained not far from the front door and there’s a circle of clear cobbles around her. Vegetable peelings are strewn all over, mounds of manure stink in large piles. There’s enough room to turn a horse and cart or a vehicle, but it’s obvious no-one cares about visitors. I approach the open half-door of the house which is letting in the lashing rain and ignore the dog’s barking and clanking chain.
“Go on in, Minnie!” someone shouts from a barn nearby. I sense it’s Ernest and the dog stops its racket. I hope it won’t be long until he follows me. My eyes adjust to the darkness as the curtains are drawn. There’s a smell of tobacco and cooked potatoes. Briefly I think it’s not the worst room I’ve ever seen, but it is.
Chapter 5
Even with a hand over my mouth and nose, I can still get the stench. How can people live in this squalor? There’s nothing that isn’t covered in matted dog hair, dirt or grime. There’s not one surface that resembles itself. The mirror hanging near the door is caked in a layer of dust. I’m not tall enough to see into it properly, but the reflection would show shock. The edges of a deep enamel sink are growing all sorts of fungus. There are at least ten bowls spilling sour milk onto even dirtier cups.
The table is cluttered with newspapers and cutlery, with a bottle of whiskey standing proud in the middle. At least half of the liquid is gone from it and there’s no stopper in the top. Gazing above the mantle there are photographs of what I know will be their mother. Thankfully she’s not in a large frame as I can already picture her disgust. Mrs Tandy always turned to discipline me at service as well as nudging the twins to behave. What would she think of this mess? I shake my head and find the stinking pantry to store my brush, bucket and mop until I get to grips with where to begin.
Ernest comes bounding into the kitchen, shirt sleeves rolled up and a collar open to reveal a small tuft of chest hair.
“Minnie,” he sings, “You’re here!” He hugs me tightly. “I told you I’d work it out.” My grin gets lost under the lips pounding against me and I never want to be away from Ernest again. Then he stops, “Edward is about. We’d better be careful.”
He lets me go and the air off Ernest is replaced by the hum off the room. How can someone smell all manly and nice in such a hovel? I snuggle in again to indicate that this is where I want to be forever.
“No stop,” he moves me away. “Not until we’re definitely alone. Otherwise it all will be ruined.”
I simply don’t care. I need him so much to want me, to hold me, kiss me and do what is natural. It’s the first time I don’t look ahead or back. He must see the frustration as he chuckles and whispers, “Ed will go with the horse to the back field soon and we’ll have at least an hour, that is if no-one calls to visit. No-one ever comes here. Anyhow if the dog is here, she will bark if …”
Edward strides into the kitchen in filthy boots. He’s clean-shaven and is Ernest in different clothes. Tall with a shock of dark hair and probing brown eyes, his tight jaw shows his discomfort.
“Welcome. Minnie. I’m surprised that Annie let you come, but I’m glad you’re here. Although I’m embarrassed with the state of this place.” He moves to place the rusty looking once-black kettle onto the range fire. It sits down with a hiss onto the hot plate. Edward takes off his coat and shakes it saying, “I know you came to clean, but even you look to be in despair at this mess.”
Edward’s trousers have a hole in the crotch or else there are missed buttons. He hoists them up with the braces he’s wearing. Like a mellower Ernest with softer gestures and movements Edward still fills the room with a presence that I can’t ignore. Standing side by side, they are fine men. It’s no wonder their mother was always proud of them, but of course I cannot tell them any of that, so I give them both my best smile instead.
“They say you’re intelligent even though you stopped talking,” Edward says turning to find a few mugs that are hanging on hooks beside the sink. There’s only two of them and he looks into both and then decides to rummage on the cluttered dresser saying all the while what people gossip about, “People say that you are fair and honest, but that we’ve to be careful because sometimes you pass out. You always come around.” He breathes out and continues, “And after your father’s death, since then you’ve not been quite the same. Sure, we’ve not been right since Mammy died either. Have we Ernest?”
“You were never right in the head,” Ernest scoffs and looks at me. My knees go weak and I wonder if there’s anywhere I could sit down.
“And Annie let you come here? I was surprised at that. We’ve both talked about it and we’ll work away from the house when you’re here. That way no-one will sully reputations. Ernest promised your mother a few things too. She’s quite a force of… she has a bad temper.” Edward stops and immediately rushes, “Sorry, I tend to talk and then think afterwards. We don’t have a lot of pretty girls around here and as I said, I’m embarrassed by the state we live in.”
He has manners and called me pretty. I like Edward immediately. Not many people have complimented me. With Daddy gone, I depend on Dottie for the praise a mother should give. Inside me there’s always been a powerful force waiting to be unleashed and being here in Fern Hollow it bobs up like a cork in water. Is it being away from Mammy? Or is it being here with these men?
Edward says, “They say that you read a lot, Minnie. I read books too. We’ve a lot in common.”
Ernest mimics his brother, “Listen to all that posh talk.” He taps my arm and pulls out a high enough stool and points at it. It looks cleaner than the chairs and I perch there as he sits himself down beside me on a creaking chair.
A thick thigh leans against mine and the heat between us under the table is furnace-like. Edward rabbits on about farm work and the weather, while Ernest rolls both eyes and quickly moves a finger up and down my leg, moving my skirt up with it. I want to touch Ernest too, but just then Edward comes around the table and gives me a cup of tea in a surprisingly nice china cup with a gilt rim.
“Will it take you long to sort us out, do you think?” Edward asks moving a curl behind his ear and those handsome features bring a flutter to my belly too. The two of them are lavishing me with attention and it’s making me blush and fluster. I glance around thinking it could take months to make any mark on this place, but shrugging I still aim to appear positive. “Weeks? We’ll pay you well, but not too much. We expect fair, honest work,” Edward says. Buttering bread he mutters, “Yes, we need a good girl about here.”
Ernest winks at me and I splutter into the tea.
Chapter 6
I’ve got the biggest pot of water on to boil when Ernest’s chest i
s stuck onto my back. He sniffs the nape of my neck. “Finally, it’s just us. I’ve thought of nothing else.”
I cling closer and sway as he cuddles me. I’ve seen Edward take the horse off up the yard a few minutes ago and wondered how long it would take Ernest to come into the house. Now that he’s here, he better not go away again. My plan is working it seems. I’m up in the clouds with the feelings he brings out in me.
“Come this way.” We’re in the corridor heading for what I realise must be Ernest’s bedroom. I balk like a mare at a watery ditch.
“It’s okay. We’ll be alone and the bed is fresh not like in McGovern’s.”
I shake my hair loose from the scarf I’m wearing, trying to be a moral woman, but he lifts me up and stumbles forward a fair few steps to toss me onto the squeaky bed.
“You’re only trying to be lady-like and we both know that you want this as much as me.”
The bed heaves when he launches himself in beside me. There’s not much room. I’m wedged between Ernest and the wall. I’m laughing. I should not let this happen, but he makes the world disappear. I tell myself that no-one will ever know what we are at. Ernest kisses my nose and cheek.
“Kiss me more if you want this,” Ernest suggests. I take him at his word. I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life and I hope that he can tell with the kissing I’m doing.
Dottie would be horrified, and this makes me giggle even more. I wonder did her husband pull at her clothes like Ernest is heaving at mine. His shirt it is off and what a chest he owns. Muscular and bronzed and rippling when he moves. Before I can touch it, he’s slurping at me, suggesting, “We need to be quick. I want to be gentle, but there’s a horn on me that would kill a good man. Let me see you, Minnie Hatton. Let me be with you.”
It doesn’t take long for me to see ‘the horn’ and this sends me into peals of laughter. Nothing will stop me from crying with amusement at the appendage and the way it moves in the hasty panic to undress us further.
“Stop it,” Ernest states as forcefully as he can while laughing himself. “Help me and stop chuckling! I know you’re only nervous and happy but stop it now. For the love of all that’s holy I need this done!”
Ernest mentioning holy things should have quelled any longing, but it doesn’t. I love the hardness of him against my breasts and the aroma of hair lacquer as he takes my mouth with his. Two thick hairy legs tangle with two smooth ones as he grabs my skirt up between us. Then Ernest finds the hidden me and slides his finger in between us. I almost die with the sensations coursing everywhere. He moves, caressing there with fingertips as his tongue licks over my mouth and into my ear. He whispers, “Minnie, I’ll be in there soon. You feel that there?” Fingers circle the mouth of the hidden me. “There is where I am going. Right into you, Minnie. Say…Say you want me to go in right here…”
Then he is knuckle-deep, and I wonder should that happen. Is that right? He’s pleased it’s happening because he’s making pleased grunting noises. I lie into the loveliness of it and wait for his mouth on mine, but there’s movement on the bed and a tongue tickles where fingers were. I’m up on my elbows like a shot, watching Ernest suck at me while he’s grasping at his horn over and over.
“You smell so good. And you’re so wet,” he says it as if that’s news to me. I sense that’s all part of nature, but I wonder if kissing me there is something that should really happen. Only very naughty women would let strange men’s mouths at them there. The shocks it’s giving me are the nicest sensations. They surge upwards and I don’t want them to stop. I don’t want Ernest to stop. Those feelings cross me in waves all the way to the tip of my woman-place where his tongue circles. “You like that?” he pants hoisting my arse nearer and lies down on me. “I have to do this now,” is all he manages before he moans and there’s a horrid pain. He withdraws with my groan and moves in again slowly. “It will be lovely. Give in to the niceness.”
Something makes me open wider and clench when he moves inwards, it is better than I ever thought possible. I drag his face to kiss me. He’s lost to me, thrusting and groaning as if I’m not here at all. The moving gets easier. I see the door and the window, both are open. What if anyone looked in the low window? They would see a bare arse with legs splayed over it.
Worry takes me away from the enjoyment and the thudding of the bed against the wall seems very loud. Suddenly he pulls out and spurts something onto my stomach with a grunt through gritted teeth. He curses, smiles and wipes my belly with the sheet.
I don’t want it to be over, so I reach down and touch myself where he’s just been. I’ve been rubbing myself at night and I know what works.
“Can I help?” he asks and with the feel of fingers inside me again, I get taken to the edge of the bliss I’m used to. Ernest watches my breasts move and kisses them between stares. The delight is beyond anything I’ve done to myself. He hunkers back on the bed watching me go into the place he’s just been. I moan as I fly over the edge of pleasure and close my eyes. After a few seconds Ernest says, “You don’t talk to me, Minnie, but you tell me everything. You are special. You know that, don’t you? And I’m warning you, I can’t get enough of you! This is something we will do every day. Every bloody day.”
Chapter 7
I lie in Ernest’s arms taking in the room and what’s just happened. Ernest is musky as he’s been sweating and working this morning. The light travels in and I wonder if Dottie might have some net curtains to shield us from anyone who’d gawp in. Although the tall stalks of grass seem lush and undisturbed as they sway in the breeze.
Our clothes are mangled together on the surprisingly clean floorboards, and although the wardrobe door is old there’s a clean mirror on it that reflects the end of the bed and the washbasin with blue flowers on it, in the far corner. All seems dull though it has a cleaner air than the kitchen.
If found here, I could say I was cleaning. Without a blouse and under clothes, it might be difficult to make excuses. Lying against the naked body of a man at least ten years older than me would be impossible to come back from. Good girls don’t let men do such things, but something makes me hope we do it again, and again. I’m like a conquering queen of a prince and I let myself be proud of what’s happened. Ernest’s hand moves strands of my hair. It tickles and I wonder how long we should chance being like this.
He must sense my fears as he says, “I don’t want to move at all, but maybe we should…”
I’m up and off the bed before he finishes the sentence finding garments and heaving them back on. My tears start from somewhere. The emotion of it all invades me. Ernest doesn’t notice as he’s pulling on trousers and sitting down on the bed with a squeak to pull on his big boots.
I don’t want him to cover that chest and those bulky arms. They are brown all the way to broad shoulders and a smattering of light hair sits on that fine chest. He blurs before me when more tears come. I press fists against my eye-sockets to make them stop. It’s not fear or sadness, but more a happiness with the uncertainty of what happens now.
“Don’t fret yourself. That was all a bit much and a bit fast. I didn’t hurt you again, did I?”
I shake my head and sink back into the arms covered in sleeves. Ernest’s scent is high, though not unpleasant. He holds me, kissing the top of my head. “Don’t you cry. I know you’re thinking of God and all sorts now, but no-one can tell me that that’s wrong. We’re wonderful together, Minnie and it’s far too nice to be a bad thing.”
I haven’t thought of God and the mention of Him makes me feel like hell is coming to roast me then and there. Sobs burst out and Ernest holds me tighter.
“I forced you. Is that what you think? It is supposed to be something that makes you happy. I thought you really enjoyed that. Are you ashamed?”
I move my head over and back.
“It’s all right to like it. Women do enjoy it too.”
I cannot look at him and move out of the embrace. I’m sure that women shouldn’t do any
of ‘that’ with a man in the middle of the morning when they barely know them and don’t have a ring on their finger. But I agree with him. Although we both know that we’d both be skinned alive by the gossips and the clergyman for even being alone in a room like this. Women who are immoral can disappear from communities. It is a dangerous business being a jezebel. Looking around I find my socks and shoes. I make for the door not wanting to leave, yet knowing it’s probably the safest thing to do right now. A long stretch and he grips my wrist, adding, “Minnie, I don’t want to see you sad about this. Look at me.”
I do as he asks.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I wish then and there that I could speak as I want to talk it through, explain how I’m worried that he’ll think me a harlot and not look at me anymore. Dottie says that McGovern courted Mammy until she gave in to the charms and we never saw him calling after that.
Will Ernest cast me aside like that too? I couldn’t bear it if he did. Will he tell the world that I’m a brazen hussy? Why did I let myself get lost with him?
“Look at me, Minnie. We’re connected. I’m not promising you the earth. I can’t promise you things I don’t have. I’m yours now, Minnie. Apart from myself, I’ve not got anything to give anyone. But I’m yours, darlin’ girl, if you’ll have me. You do know that your mother and others won’t let us be together? I’ve no future. I can’t read or write and have no land. I’m not trained for much other than farming. Edward throws me a few bob, but I need a share of the profits to keep a woman and a family. I’ll need to figure out what to do. Give me time to think about our future. We need each other and I’ll figure out the rest.”