At long last Letty sent for Norah, and I was delivered into the hands of my maid. The hated orange blossoms were removed from my hair, the smooth satin dropped to my feet and I stepped out of the creamy pool. My silk petticoats slipped over my head and then I was ready to be dressed in my going-away costume. Norah fastened the dark green shantung at my back and held out the matching jacket. She pressed me gently down into a chair and knelt at my feet to ease on the narrow strapped shoes of bronze kid; the dark green cloche with its single shining feather came gently down over my tidied hair. I was breathing heavily; the cramps were coming regularly now, and getting stronger. Norah spoke quietly. ‘My lady, I slipped a hot-water bottle into your overnight bag before John took it down.’ I whispered my thanks, then she added, ‘But don’t you think you should delay your departure, my lady? You’re hardly fit to travel.’
‘No, no – I must go now.’ I dragged myself upright and stumbled over to the lowest drawer of the chest. In the water closet I saw that I was bleeding very heavily now and my hands were shaking as I attached the loops of the clean pad.
Ben was waiting for me at the foot of the oak staircase, dressed now in his own ill-fitting ready-made suit. We slipped out of the family entrance and into the waiting car. Ralph had gone ahead to the station, and only Letty and Norah waved us off. As the car swung round and down the long drive I kept my back rigidly upright, trying to hold in the pain.
At Hareford we went in through the booking hall and came out on to the platform – and saw all the clerks and porters lined up with their buttons gleaming and their caps held stiffly by their sides, while Mr Shepherd advanced to meet us, in his best suit and carrying his glossy top hat in his hand. I longed to shrink back in my pain and embarrassment, but instead I had to force my shaking legs to walk forward, and hold out my hand to the stationmaster.
Mr Shepherd shook it warmly. ‘My lady, I wish you all health and happiness in your married life.’ I just managed to smile, then his voice dropped a little. ‘I’ve not forgotten how you helped my son, and took the trouble to write and set our minds at rest – and my lady, I know what you nurses did for our lads out there – they’ll never forget it, never.’
The tears stood in my eyes as I murmured my thanks. Then the train began to rumble into the platform and the stationmaster sprang to attention. ‘His lordship has reserved a first-class compartment for you both.’ Ralph Dutton stepped forward to shake Ben’s hand, his duties as best man now over. He turned to me and I reached out and clung to both his hands for a moment – Ralph who had been my brother’s friend – then he gently disengaged my fingers so that Ben could help me into the carriage. As the train drew out I raised my hand in acknowledgement of my impromptu guard of honour, and heard their answering cheer as I slumped back into the corner. I doubled up, whimpering, as the pain clawed at my belly.
Ben jumped to his feet and bent over me. ‘What’s matter, lass?’ I pressed my hand into my side and panted for breath. ‘You’ve been as white as a sheet all day – I knew there were something wrong.’ He stood straddling the floor as the train jolted over the points, watching me, then he said, ‘You need a doctor. Look we’ll get you off – next stops are nobbut halts, but it’s not long to Altrincham, we’ll find one there.’
Weakly I shook my head. ‘No – no Ben – it’s nothing serious.’
‘Not serious! You weren’t so good afore, but lass, look at state of you now! I’m taking you to doctor.’
His voice was decided, and I knew I had to explain. I stared down at his highly polished boots and muttered, ‘It’s only – woman’s trouble, Ben. It’ll pass – eventually.’
I sensed the stillness of the man in front of me, and in the brief respite between cramps, guilt flooded through me. He knew now that there was no child, that there had been no need for this marriage – whatever must he be feeling? Somehow I should have told him this morning and given him his release. But it was too late now and the narrow gold band tightened on my finger. Then the pain came again and I almost welcomed the temporary oblivion it brought with it.
Ben spoke at last. ‘I don’t know what to do to help you. My niece – Fanny that is – she had troubles afore she were wed – our Ivy used to put her to bed with a hot brick.’ He looked helplessly round at the empty compartment.
‘Really, Ben – I’ll be better in a minute. Please – sit down – there’s nothing you can do.’ He sat down beside me in silence and I forced myself to breathe evenly and slowly.
He got me off the train very quickly at Manchester and half-carried me out to a cab. ‘Victoria – quick as you can. There’s a Blackburn leaving on th’our and me missus is not so good – I want to get her home.’
‘Right y’ are, mate.’ The driver trod on his accelerator and we shot forward.
At Victoria Ben dropped me on to a bench and ran full tilt to the booking office. As soon as he was back he hauled me up and put his arm round my waist, and my feet moved mechanically towards the platform. With a mighty heave he lifted me bodily into the compartment where smiling faces made room for me and I sank down on to the rough horsehair seat. He leapt in just as the whistle sounded, tossed my valise up on to the luggage rack and subsided, red in the face, opposite me. ‘I’m sorry lass – I meant to get first class – just for today.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Ben – it doesn’t matter.’ And I gave myself up to fighting the pain.
By the time we got to Ainsclough I was losing my battle. The grimy town flashed past the cab windows as we bounced over the setts, then the engine note changed and we growled up the steep street until at last we stopped outside one of the identical small terraces. I sat slumped in the corner while Ben paid the man, then he came back and leant right into the cab. ‘Put your arms round me neck, lass.’ I did as he bid me and closed my eyes as he swung me up into his arms. I heard the heels of his boots strike the pavement, then he was easing me through a narrow doorway, and in seconds had put me gently down on a chair. When I opened my eyes I was sitting in a small kitchen, close to the warmth of a range. Ben stood looking down at me. ‘Well, I carried you over threshold – an’ some more beside.’ The cab driver came in with our hand luggage, and then I heard the front door slam behind him. We were alone together.
Ben’s face softened. ‘Mrs Scholes said she’d make up the bed, lass – we’d best get you up there, I’m thinking.’ But as I began to move I became conscious of the fullness of my bladder – and the sodden pad between my legs. I looked round for my overnight case and saw it standing on the table – beside Ben. My mind would not function properly, and I sat on the edge of the chair looking at him, my face hot. He said gruffly, ‘Closet’s out back – there’s soap and a towel in scullery.’ But it was the fresh pad I needed. I stood up and reached for the handle of the case. ‘That’s over heavy for you, lass – I’ll take it upstairs in a minute.’ My brain was too slow to provide an answer and as I hesitated I felt the gush of blood between my legs and I knew I could wait no longer. I turned my back on him as my shaking fingers unfastened the case and groped inside. As soon as they touched the pads I slid one out and pressed it against the green silk of my skirt, then I edged past him with my eyes on the floor. He jumped suddenly out of the way.
Thankfully the closet was a water closet. I collapsed with relief on to the scrubbed wooden seat, my legs shaking, and began to attend to my needs. But then I was left with the blood-soaked pad, and I sat helplessly, holding it until I caught sight of the squares of newspaper hung on a nail beside me – they were too small but they would have to do.
I walked back in with my messy bundle, praying that he would be upstairs, but he was in the scullery filling the kettle at the single tap there. I pushed past him into the kitchen and darted frantically to the range, but I was still pushing my sodden bundle into the depths of the glowing coals as he came back holding the kettle. ‘There’s a bucket under…’ He stopped, then went on, ‘I thought you needed – me sisters used to soak their rags…’ I dropped the poker and headed towards the door, and the stairs went straight up on my left so I began to drag myself up them. ‘At front,’ he called out after me, and I pushed open the door and almost fell into the small bedroom. The brass bedstead was ready made up, the pillow high and plump, and Letty’s eiderdown glowed a warm pink in the late afternoon sun – but I could hear his footsteps on the stairs so I pulled myself round the foot of the bed to stand at bay beside the narrow window.
He put my bag down on the wooden floor. ‘I’ll bring a jug of hot water up for you, so you can wash like – lucky Mrs Scholes lit range – and then I’ll pop round and see if she’s got a hot bottle for you.’
‘I have one – already. My maid packed it in my case.’
‘Then you get it out while I’m fetching jug.’ I pulled it out, then collapsed on to the single, straight-backed chair. He was soon back with the jug and he put it carefully down on the washstand and then took the bottle off the bed, saying over his shoulder, ‘I’ll leave it on top step for you when I come back.’ He went out, latching the door firmly behind him. I trembled with relief at the privacy and began to tussle with the tiny buttons of my dress. I had just got it off when I heard his footsteps again – and stood frozen in my petticoat. But he kept his promise and did not come in.
The pain was lessening slightly now into the aching lethargy that always followed the sharpest bouts. But when I had washed I felt a little fresher, and the satin nightdress was cool and comfortable on my skin – though I still tied my wrap around me before venturing out to retrieve my hot-water bottle. As I bent to pick it up I heard a door open downstairs and I sprang back into the safety of my bedroom like a startled rabbit. I waited, trembling, but he did not come up again. I turned to the bed, but my green shantung dress and jacket were lying carelessly over the foot, and I knew I must hang them up myself since there was no maid in this household. I pushed the bottle between the sheets and picked up my costume and carried it to the alcove – but when I pulled back the curtain which hung across it I stood still in astonishment – there were men’s clothes hanging there. Slowly I let the curtain fall back, then thought, I suppose there are no hooks in the other bedroom – how very inconvenient. I wondered if he had stored anything else in my bedroom, and went to the chest and began to pull out the drawers – and found that the bottom two held neat piles of men’s shirts and underpants and socks. They had been so carefully arranged that they looked quite at home there – and now I began to get frightened. I pushed the drawer back with shaking hands and crept over to the door. Very quietly I unlatched it, put one slippered foot on the tiny landing and gently eased open the door of the back bedroom. Once glance sufficed to show that there was no bed in there – only my piled-up boxes and trunks.
I slipped back and sank trembling on to the bed in my refuge – but it was a refuge no longer. I had known, of course I had known, that Ben would need to come to me sometimes in the night – but foolishly, unthinkingly, I had never dreamt that we would share a bedroom, let alone a bed. Another rush of blood drained out of my body and I thought, no – not now, not tonight, when I’m like this – how can he bear to do that? And he knew – but of course he had to know, I thought wildly, otherwise he would try to – a voice called up the stairs, ‘Are you in bed yet, lass? I’ve got a cup of tea made for you.’ I heard his heavy footsteps and jumped up and threw myself under the sheet and clutched it tight to my chin. He pushed the door open – he did not knock, but then why should he – since it was his bedroom too? But he barely looked at me as he put the cup down on the bedside cupboard and went out again.
I gulped down the hot tea gratefully, then slid down into the bed, clutching the hot-water bottle to my belly. My mind was in a turmoil, but I was so exhausted I fell asleep almost at once.
When I woke up the sun was already low through the lace curtains, and I knew it must be well into the evening. I lay still for a while, not knowing what to do. Where was he? Should I go downstairs and find him? I shrank from that but I shrank too from lying in my nightdress, waiting. At last my bladder decided for me so I got up and dressed in the summer frock that Norah had packed in my valise, then hung a towel over my hand to conceal the fresh pad I was carrying and crept softly down the stairs. Ben was sitting in the kitchen reading a newspaper; he glanced up as I came in and my face burned and he looked down at his paper again as I slid through the scullery door. He was out of the kitchen when I returned, and he reappeared only after I had closed the lid of the range again.
We stood looking at each other until he said, ‘I’ll put kettle on. Mrs Scholes has left a pie and some bits and pieces. I’ll set table.’ He turned away and asked, without looking at me, ‘Are you better, lass?’
‘Yes, thank you, Ben.’
‘Good.’
I told him I was not hungry, but he made me eat. ‘You had nothing at wedding breakfast – you’ll be wasting away at this rate – you’re too thin already.’ I remembered plump Emmie and hung my head.
As we ate he said, ‘Lass, I’ll have to leave you tomorrow, but I’ll be back for the evening. Foreman’s played right fair – given me day shift all this week, since I were getting wed, and said he’ll try and make sure I don’t get caught with any overtime.’ He seemed to expect me to be pleased, so I smiled at him, and he appeared to be satisfied as he cut himself another slice of pie.
The round-faced clock on the mantelpiece said half-past nine by the time we had finished. As I put my cup down Ben asked, ‘Would you like me to show you round the ’ouse now?’
He looked at me expectantly, but I shook my head. ‘No thank you, Ben’. I felt very tired – besides, what would there be to see in a house as small as this?
‘Well – perhaps you had best get yourself straight to bed – you look as washed-out as an old dish clout. You go up now – I’ve got to run up plot to water me seedlings. I’ll not be long, but I’ll wash in scullery so as not to disturb you.’ He stood up and reached for his jacket, then stopped in the doorway and said, with his back to me, ‘By way lass – I know it’s our wedding night, but of course I’ll not be bothering you tonight.’ For a moment I hoped he meant that he would be sleeping downstairs, then he added, ‘I’ll come up quiet in case you’ve dropped off.’
Up in the small square bedroom I lay rigid on the very edge of the mattress, my face to the window. When I heard him coming up the stairs I closed my eyes firmly – but they flew open again as he cannoned into the end of the bed. I heard the muttered, ‘Sorry, lass,’ and the sight of his large hairy maleness stayed with me even after I had screwed my lids tightly together again. I pulled the sheets up over my hot face.
The bed springs creaked as he sat down to take off his socks, then the mattress dipped as his heavy body slid in beside me. The edge of the bed dug into my hips as I eased myself another half inch away from him, so that he need not touch me.
‘Goodnight, lass.’
‘Goodnight, Ben.’
I slept, but I woke later with a crick in my neck from the unnatural position and I was chilly, because the bedclothes now barely reached me. Very gently I eased myself round. He was sprawled across the bed, giving the soft, grunting snorts of a man asleep, while I lay beside him in the dark, fighting the needs of my bladder and my womb. But at last I knew I had to give in so, very slowly, I inched my way out of the bed and fumbled in my bag for yet another clean pad. He snorted loudly and I dared not wait to find my slippers and wrap but fled down the stairs and into the warm kitchen. I saw with relief the glimmer from the range – he had made it up. Outside the stone flags of the yard were cold under my bare soles, and in the tiny closet I began to shiver.
When I got back to the foot of the stairs I hesitated – there was a glow from the bedroom and, apprehensively, I realized he must have woken up and lit the gas. But I had to go back, so I went quickly up and into the room – skirting the end of the bed and climbing in on my side without looking at him. I felt very exposed and vulnerable in my clinging satin nightdress with barely a sheet to cover myself with, and I lay quite still with my back to him until he turned the gas out. Then I could not stop myself from shivering. In the dark I felt a large warm hand clasp my shoulder. ‘You silly lass - you’re starved. You should have used chamber – or leastways put summat round you.’ I tried to control my shivers, but I could not, ‘Oh, don’t be so daft – come here.’ And he hauled me bodily across the bed and into the warmth of his arms.
He hugged me tightly to his chest until at last my shivering stopped. Then I lay with my cheek against the coarse fabric of his nightshirt and let my body relax against his – as I realized with overwhelming relief that he was not shrinking from my bleeding woman’s body – rather he was pressing me closer. And I gave a sudden start of surprise as I felt it – his swollen manhood full and throbbing against my belly. He chuckled in the dark. ‘Aye – I thought as how you’d like to know that there’s someone down below as wants to renew his acquaintance. But don’t fret – he knows he’s got to wait. But lass’ – his voice deepened – ‘you’ll tell me when you’re ready, won’t you? I know women vary like, so you mun tell me.’ Then I felt his lips on my cheek, and I turned my mouth to his and we clung together in the darkness. At last he pulled away a little and whispered breathlessly, ‘Aye, you’re a warm lass, you are – but I’ll have to let you go else I’ll never be able to drop off.’ He rolled away from me and I lay in the warm space left by his body and drifted easily into sleep.
But in the bright morning light I felt very shy of him, and lay with my eyes closed as I heard him getting up. He must have guessed I was feigning sleep because he said, ‘I’ll bring you a cup of tea afore I go, Mrs Holden.’ As he ran down the stairs I realized with a jolt that he must think I had lost my title on marriage – would he be annoyed when he discovered the truth? I pushed the thought away from me and lay patiently waiting.
When he came up again and put the cup and saucer down on the bedside cupboard I sat up without thinking, forgetful of my flimsy nightdress – until I saw how his eyes were fixed on the curve of my breasts as they hung forward against the satin. I sat still with my hand on the cupboard – seeing the blood rise in his face as he watched me. Then he abruptly turned and left the room. As I picked up the cup my hands shook.
He was soon back, and now he was in his bibbed working overalls, with a dirty jacket slung over his shoulder. I felt a moment of revulsion as he came towards me, then I realized he was pushing something into my hand. ‘That’s for th’ousekeeping while Friday.’ I looked down and saw the three grubby ten-shilling notes – and felt very ashamed of myself. He had earned these with hours of sweating, back-breaking labour – and now he was giving them to me.
I whispered, ‘Thank you, Ben.’
He looked at me for a moment, then he sat heavily down on the bed and pulled me to him. I put my arms round his neck as his mouth came down on mine. But as he kissed me he freed one of his arms, and I felt him push his hand inside the low neck of my nightdress – and begin to fondle my breast. My skin tingled under his touch and slowly I opened my mouth under his until our tongues met. It was a long time before he raised his head from mine and then, with one hand still inside my nightdress, he eased me gently back on to the pillow. I lay there, gazing up into his intent face while both his warm hands slowly explored my breasts.
At last he pulled himself upright and said thickly, ‘Mebbe it’s as well you’re on rags – else I’d be climbing back in bed with you instead of getting to work.’ He pulled the door to with a bang and pounded down the stairs. I curled up like a cat in the sun and fell instantly asleep.