When we got back to his flat, I pleaded to feeling tired and a bit headachy.
‘I’m just not used to wine, Jim,’ I said, ‘I really need to sleep. This day of inactivity has been more tiring than walking about and being busy.’
‘I know the feeling,’ he agreed. ‘As I said, I’m taking a day off tomorrow. We can lie in and then go and enjoy ourselves. It’ll cheer you up a little. Things have been rotten for you lately. We’ll have fun.’
I lay awake for hours and tossed all these things in my mind. I decided in the end that I was being unreasonable and getting all confused. Jim wasn’t the sort of person to break in and steal my money, mess up my life like this. He was so sweet and kind to me. What possible reason would he have to do such a thing? I was becoming irrational. He has simply forgotten the spare keys in his pocket. It hadn’t rained much of late and he probably hadn’t worn that mac for ages.
The next day we rose together and had breakfast curled up on the sofa. The plan was to go and shop for food, bring it back, then get the Underground into the heart of London and see the sights.
Jim pored over his London A-Z . ‘We’ll start with Trafalgar Square, walk up the Mall to Buckingham Palace and relax a bit in St James’s Park.’
‘Heavens! We’ll be exhausted.’
‘Not a bit, you’ll love it all. We’ll take some sandwiches and a bottle of wine and eat lunch in the park.’
‘No more wine. Not at that time of day. You’d have to cart me back home on your shoulder.’
‘Nonsense; the more you drink wine, the quicker you’ll get used to it.’
‘But why should one drink wine? It’s hardly a life necessity.’
‘Oh, but it is – a lifestyle necessity. You have to get used to it. It’s the done thing. You’re still so old-fashioned, Bridie.’
‘Well, I am then and I mean to stay that way. I’m not sure I want to be a part of this London lifestyle as you call it. It strikes me as false and trivial. Ryan hated it.’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Jim’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
‘Why do you hate Ryan so much? He’s a good man, Jim.’
‘Maybe that’s why I hate him.’ He fell silent for a while. ‘You know the real reason,’ he added.
I didn’t want to know. It was all becoming too complicated for me. I refused to take the bait, rose and went to the bedroom and got myself dressed. It wouldn’t do to carry on this conversation.
As it happened the day passed most pleasantly. It was lovely to feel free of worries and just become sightseers and tourists. I enjoyed all the places we visited and the sun shone bright for a change. Our picnic in St. James’s Park was my happiest experience. It felt so open there and the gleaming grey of the Serpentine winding its way through the park cheered me. Standing on the bridge in Kensington Gardens, I watched the swallows skimming over the lake and realised then my overwhelming need to be near water in some way. Maybe one day I might afford a house by the sea or at least by a big river. There had to be water somewhere for me to be happy and content.
‘You see,’ Jim smiled and looked over at me. ‘London has such beautiful places as well as ugly ones. Admit it’s lovely here, Bridie.’
‘I do admit it, Jim. But I know I shall never be a city person.’
‘You’ll get used to it in time.’
That evening I cooked a delicious meal and we sat contented and replete. I made sure I took the armchair. The sofa was too intimate and I was determined to keep Jim from getting amorous. However, he behaved perfectly, making no loveydovey comments or any giving any other indication other than that of a friend and brother. I began to relax again. It had to be said he was good company and we passed time that evening playing cards and cribbage, laughing and joking, just as we used to do when we were young.
‘Isn’t this nice?’ he said as the evening drew to a close. ‘We get on so well, don’t we, Bridie? We always have, haven’t we?’
‘We have, Jim. You’ve cheeered me up and I’m grateful for it.’
‘Better than being on your own in that dismal room in Archway with all those rough people for company, isn’t it?’
‘Much better. The only nice person there was Luke McGraw. He was educated and gentlemanly.’
‘The coloured bloke? People complain that they’re a lazy lot.’
‘Jim! That isn’t true. And it’s definitely not true of Luke.’
‘Maybe he’s an exception. But they’re not like us. They’re a different culture altogether. Anyway, why are we talking about that fellow? You do let your mind wander, Bridie. I’ll begin to think you a regular flirt.’
‘That’s silly, Jim. God, you sound like Millie sometimes. Can’t a man and woman like one another and talk together without it having flirty overtones?’
‘In my book it’s impossible for men and women to be “just friends”. But then you are so unromantic at times.’
‘Okay, I’m unromantic, Jim, I’m not a sentimental person but a realist. Life knocks anything like that out of one.’
’For me romance is essential food for the heart. Don’t you like nice gestures, flowers, chocolates and all that? I wish you were a bit less down to earth at times.’
‘Well, I am,’ I said flatly. ‘It’s called survival, Jim.’
‘Look, if you let me take care of you, you wouldn’t have to put on this tough front,’ he said softly. ‘I suspect something a lot gentler and more feminine lurks beneath all this hard talk of yours. If you felt safe and cared for you could let that sweeter side of you come out and blossom. I want to help you to do that. Being with Ryan will just make you tougher and harder. You’ll need to be tough to survive the sort of lonely existence he offers. It’s all right for him. His nature is solitary. He’s not the marrying sort, Bridie. Why can’t you forget him?’
I had a sudden vision of a lighthouse against the dusky sky, its beams rotating slowly, piercing the oncoming darkness and lighting up the vast deeps that surrounded its fragile form. I saw the loneliness and grandeur of the sea and the huge empty cliffs and could almost hear the slapping and roaring of the engulfing waves against the sides of the rock-light on a tempestuous stormy night, waves sometimes sixty foot high. I could feel the spray on my face and hear the mourning of the sea birds as they wheeled about the light at night, round and round, enamoured and half-crazed by it. And there was this light, tended day and night by these amazing, dedicated men in order to help people navigate their way safely to land. There was the lighthouse keeper, a friendly, kindly, noble human being who was willing to set out and rescue anyone in distress if the need arose.
‘You don’t understand, Jim,’ I said simply, ‘you’re a town person. Ryan and I am not.’
His face darkened at that and he looked angry and disappointed. In that moment I saw Millie all over again. I knew then that he wasn’t the man for me. It wasn’t his fault but he would always remind me of her and she was the one person in this world I hated with all my heart and soul and whom I would never be able to forgive. He was a part of her and I wanted none of him – not as a lover anyway.
Jim rang in and said he was sick the next day.
‘I just want to be with you again,’ he explained when I looked surprised at this deception. ‘We had such a marvellous evening yesterday, didn’t we, Bridie? I want to have a bit of holiday myself. Like you, I’ve just been working away. All work and no play … you know the old adage …’
We spent the day visiting St. Paul’s and the City and Jim took me to see Temple Bar and the Inns of Court, which marked the edge of the City of London and Westminster. I had to agree with Jim that it was beautiful round there with a sense of being suspended in time, part of another age when life moved in slower rhythms. He explained all abut the four Inns, Inner Temple, Middle Temple, Gray’s Inn and Lincoln’s Inn and how these Inns had the right to be called to the Bar.
‘What is the Bar?’ I asked. ‘What does it mean?’
‘It’s literally the bar that separates the gallery from the court.’ He looked around him as he said this. ‘I mean to join one of these Inns and be called to the Bar one day. I mean to be a great barrister, take silk and be Queen’s Counsel like Simeon Grantham. I may even be knighted like him one day.’ His eyes had fire in them and I believed him. With his ambition and his talents he would do it.
‘I’ll be so proud of you, Jim.’ I nodded. ‘I really believe you will do it.’
‘Do you?’ he said eagerly. ‘Yes, I will. And you will be proud of me and I of you. You’ll have the smartest clothes then, swan about looking lovely, have the best house and the most fascinating company. You won’t need to clean or cook any more. Just think of the life we could have.’
I ignored this remark, smiled and changed the subject. Later that evening, I cooked a delicious chicken roast and Jim plied me with wine. I didn’t like to be a spoil sport and keep refusing so I drank a glass or two. It was heavy red stuff and made me very thick headed though deliciously warm and light in the body.
‘I am going to play you some music,’ said Jim after a while. ‘You’ve never heard me play the cello, have you? No? So there’s a treat in store for you. At least I hope you’ll think it a treat – my playing isn’t that good. Not as perfect as I’d like.’
‘You want everything perfect, Jim. I’m sure you play divinely. You do everything so well.’
‘I wish. But I’ll do my best, ma donna.’
‘I told you, I know so little about music that just getting a tune from an instrument is a marvel in itself to me. What will you play for me?’
Jim rose and went into the bedroom to fetch the instrument. He brought it back, took it from its case and regarded it lovingly.
‘This is the most expensive thing I possess,’ he said. ‘I’ve had it specially insured. It’s a good instrument and it means a lot to me. Music is very important to me. It’s the one thing that truly relaxes me.’
‘Besides a bottle of wine?’ I joked. ‘Oh, the two together, even better!’ He propped up the instrument and held it between his knees.
‘Shall I hold you like this, between my knees?’ he asked with a sly grin.
These words made me jump rather delightfully inside. ‘Jim, just play some music.’ I scolded.
‘I’m going to play you the start of Haydn’s Cello Concerto in C Major. One of my favourites.’
He began to play, drawing the bow across his instrument with a look of intense concentration, shades of feeling passing over his mobile face that I had never seen before. His arm moved the bow swiftly and almost fiercely across the instrument and music spilled forth and filled the room with its melody. It was stately and measured and yet at the same time cheerful, lilting, happy and energetic. I knew so little about classical music as Millie wasn’t keen at all and Dad Joe preferred silence or the shipping forecasts. These waves of glorious sound lifted my heart and enraptured me.
‘Oh, Jim, that was so beautiful.’
‘I didn’t play well, did I?’ He looked discontented.
‘You played beautifully. I didn’t realise how wonderful music could sound.’ I regarded him with a new feeling at this moment. ‘You played beautifully,’ I repeated and put a hand on his arm to reassure him.
He took my hand and raised it to his lips.
‘We need some more wine,’ he said.
‘Please, no more wine, Jim, I’ve had enough.’
‘Oh, have some more,’ he said refilling my glass despite my protests. ‘We haven’t got to stagger home from anywhere, have we?’
Jim had poured out a large and liberal glass for us both and we quaffed this in silence. He refilled our glasses again after that till we finished the bottle, all the while keeping his eyes on me in a way that made me begin to feel uncomfortable. It was as if he was waiting for something.
The wine mingled with my bloodstream; it warmed me, made nerves and muscles relax till I felt strange and limp, a rag doll, incapable of movement. The warm feeling seemed to trickle down to my genitals, stirring me in a way I’d never experienced before. It was as if I wanted to open my legs wide and be touched down there. This frightened me, the sensation no longer pleasant. I shook myself and tried to stand. I needed to get away from these unwelcome sensations, needed to escape Jim’s unrelenting stare. He moved closer to me on the sofa but I stood up, a little dizzy and smiled vaguely, saying ‘I … I think I’ll turn in now, Jim. I feel … a bit peculiar.’
Jim rose too and said thickly, ‘You’re just a little tipsy, my love. And what’s more, you want what I want, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes, hear you breathing faster. Come on …let’s turn in together.’
He came towards me and took me in his arms. This time there was no pretence. His polite barriers melted with the wine and he kissed me, his tongue entering my mouth, his hands moving over my body with an insistence I had never experienced with Ryan who had always managed to keep himself under a kind of savage control. I struggled to free myself but Jim held on tight. The liberating effect of the wine coursed through my blood again. I began to return the kiss and the heat between us was palpable. He was nothing like that lewd, disgusting Tom Shanklyn. He understood women and had obviously made love before. There was something experienced and determined about his manner. His hands slid under my thin blouse and took a firm hold of my breasts. I felt myself losing control, ready to lose everything.
‘Bridie, Bridie, I’ve wanted you so long!’ he panted.
Then in that dangerous moment I swear I heard Ryan’s slow, deep voice, as if he stood behind me putting out a hand to restrain me. It was terrifyingly real. I tore myself away from Jim’s fervent grasp and looked around in terror. But no one was there.
‘Oh, God! Ryan!’ I burst into tears. ‘I can’t, Jim. Stop, stop. I can’t do this!’
His face was flushed with wine and rage. The man who had a moment or so ago played me such beautiful music, who had been so warm, attentive and delightful, had changed into a fierce, lupine being. In that moment I was very much afraid of him.
He seized my arm as I turned to flee and began to drag me towards him. I screamed but, setting his arm across my neck and choking the noise, he began pulling me towards the sofa. I tried to kick back at him and caught his shin hard. This made him pause for a moment but then he tightened his grip on my neck even more. I felt sure he would strangle me. The thought flashed through my mind that he was really dangerous, this man I had trusted so long. He might well kill me in his drunken, frustrated rage. Maybe it was easier simply to give in and let him have his way.
But to hell with that. Here I was cornered by Millie again in the form of her precious son who was determined to make me bend to his will, defile my body, make me betray the man I loved. Well, he bloody well wouldn’t! Somehow I would stop him. For a moment his grip loosened. I dug my elbows into his ribs with all the fear-laden, fury-driven force I could muster and cursing me, he let go at last. I ran towards the front door. Jim gave a shout and following me, seized me again, dragging me back and flinging me on the sofa.
‘You won’t get away, damn you! You’ll never get away, d’you hear me! Never!’ he yelled.
The tears were running down my face but they were as much tears of rage as fright.
‘And you won’t get me, Jim. I‘ll die rather than let you rape me!’ I sobbed, ‘You won’t get me, you won’t!’
There was a piece of carved stone on the shelf near me and I grabbed it in my desperation, determined to use it as a weapon if he tried to force himself upon me. At that moment I didn’t care if I killed him. He deserved it.
Jim saw the wild look in my eye and the stone in my hand and knew then that I was as ready to be as violent as he was. The fight seemed to stream out of him like air from a hot balloon. He breathed deeply and flung himself into a chair.
‘You were all ready for it, damn you!’ was all he said, his face turned away from me. I believe he was actually weeping with frustration and rage. ‘What the hell happened?’
‘I’m as good as engaged, Jim.’ My breath still came in laboured panting gasps. ‘You know…you know I love Ryan and no one else. It’s really wicked of you to get me drunk and try to rape me. It’s really wicked.’
‘Oh, fuck your prissy morals,’ he said angrily. Then he calmed down a bit and said pleadingly, back again to his smooth, charming, winning tone. ‘Bridie, Bridie – I adore you, I need you – I want to marry you. I’m not out to seduce or rape, as you put it. Good God, I couldn’t do that, not really. It’s the wine made me lose control and it’s you, Bridie. I just can’t help it; you’re so beautiful and desirable. I acted badly. Look, I apologise.’
I regarded him with something akin to contempt. ‘You apologise, do you? Well, that’s not enough. You frightened me, Jim. How can I ever trust you now? And is it just the wine? Or are you your mother in another form? Jim, I’m sorry but I could never marry you. It would be like marrying Millie.’
‘I’m not like Mum, Bridie, you’re so wrong. You know I’m not like her. We get on so well, us two, we’ve known each other so long. I have a prior claim to you, for heaven’s sake. It’s only right I should care for you after all you’ve gone through.’
‘You’re obsessed with that idea. I don’t need you to care for me. I’ve learnt to cope alone and that’s how it will be from now on. Ryan suits me and gives me space to breathe in and be myself. I thank you for one thing. You’ve made me realise the fact that I want him and no one else. I’m going home, Jim. I’m going to go back to Ryan, if he still wants me.’
His anger flared up again. ‘After all I’ve done for you? After I’ve defended you in the past, helped you in so many ways. I’m willing to give you everything. This is your gratitude, you bitch!’
‘Don’t give me this rubbish, Jim. You did these things yourself, I didn’t ask you,’ I retorted. ‘Thanks for showing me what you’re really like. It was you who came to my room and took my money, wasn’t it? All a part of your mad scheme to get me to come and live with you. God, I can’t believe you’ve fooled me like this. Ryan was so right, you aren’t to be trusted. He always said so.’
‘Ryan, Ryan – fuck Ryan! Don’t even mention his name. Get to bed and think things through, Bridie. You’re mine, do you hear? I’ll make sure that bastard never gets you if I have to kill you.’
With this threat ringing in my ears, I moved round him warily, ran into the bedroom and locked the door behind me, then pushed the chest of drawers against the door. I didn’t even undress but began to pack my cases and was deeply thankful that he would be going in to work in the morning and I would be able to leave. Eventually I lay down on the bed and fell into a deep wine and stress-fuelled sleep.