Chapter 19
30 November, 1916
An unexpected rap on the door roused me from the thoughts of joy I was feeling about dinner. I jauntily crossed to the front hallway, wondering who was calling in midafternoon. “Cissy, you’re here? I wasn’t expecting you until 5:30 with Eric, Daisy, and little Stanley.” I had just returned from a walk to the High Street market, where I collected the necessary vegetables and trimmings for the roast that I planned to slow cook starting at three, two hours before Mrs. Clarke arrived home from work.
She was beaming at me with that beautiful smile. “Well, Daisy told me that you will be departing for Brighton tomorrow morning. Having all day to myself, I thought I would sightsee in one of the better neighborhoods, and, well, that led me to your door!”
The smile, the surprise, and the delight all pounced on my emotions as I became aware of my heart thumping inside my chest and my breathing quickening. “It’s Mrs. Clarke’s door, and I’m just not sure it’s proper for you to arrive unaccompanied.” I didn’t mean for that to sound surly. I was nervous. Oh God, she was beautiful!
Cissy ever so confidently stood at the threshold, her fingers interlaced at her front. “Daisy knows where I am,” she teased, “and besides, it’s 1916, not the fuss and feathers of the Victorian times, I daresay.”
I suddenly became aware of the kettle whistling with impatience. “All right. As long as Daisy knows, then I guess we are in good hands.” At that moment I knew all too well that I was in very good hands. “I was just brewing some tea. Would you like to join me in a cup?”
“If that is an invitation from a gentleman to enter, then I accept.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry. I completely forgot my manners. Do come in.”
Cissy looked ravishing as she passed me at the door, her eau de cologne sensuously following. She was wearing a fashionable silk dress in mauve and black, buttoned at the front below an oversize white open collar, low enough to expose her long neck. The dress was pleated below the waist, stopping mid-calf, while the ribbon belt accentuated her lithe body. The wide-brimmed hat, with ribbon to match her belt, highlighted her bangs, while her high-heeled shoes and caped overcoat made her look as much high fashion as any of the lady shoppers at Selfridges.
“Would the lieutenant relieve me of my cape?”
I was still trying to work through my nervousness and become comfortable with Cissy’s sudden arrival, her stunning looks, and, above all, the confidence she exuded. I felt like a little boy in the presence of a sophisticated lady.
“Y-yes, of course, forgive me.”
We sat in the front parlor, sipping tea and engaging in small talk. The conversation turned to Cissy’s interest in how my medical board went, where my service would next take me, how long I thought the war would last, and if we would win.
She was most outspoken about her work at the munitions factory, stating that women deserved better working conditions and increased safety protection. While she had somehow escaped the dreaded yellow skin coloring that afflicted some of those who handled the sulphuric acid embedded in TNT, many of her friends did show such signs. She was also articulate about the high risk of explosion.
We were eased out of such somber discussion by the sun peeking through the rain clouds that were rapidly clearing away, and decided to go for a walk to nearby Finsbury Park. “I’ll just get your cape. I placed it in my room.”
“Thank you. I’ll need that, unless you are offering your tunic?” she teased.
We laughed as I went to my room at the back of the home. Lifting the cape off the bed and turning around, I was surprised by Cissy standing right there in front of me. “I was only gone for a moment. Is everything all right?”
“Everything is just wonderful. For you as well?” She placed a white-gloved hand on my tunic, running her fingers across its brass buttons. She reached to my shoulder with her other hand, moving her face in closer to mine. Her rouge-tinted lips hovered razor close. I was at the same time frozen and very excited. “Kiss me, Lieutenant. Or shall I have to kiss you?”
I leaned across to lightly brush her lips, afraid of smearing her rouge.
Cissy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s hardly a kiss, Bob. Let me show you how a lady is to be kissed.”
Before I could take a breath, her lips were on mine. It was heaven, it was passion, and it was like I’d never been kissed before.
“There, that’s better. Did you like that, Bob?”
My whole being, every sense I had, was roused as I stood there in a shiver. “Yes, I did,” I whispered nervously. I wanted more, wanted to again feel the softness of her lips, but realized where we were. “I-I’m not sure about being so intimate in Mrs. Clarke’s home. She will be home at five and—”
Cissy affected a coy look as she murmured, “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know you like me. Besides, five is more than two hours away. A lifetime.”
I gave in, losing all inhibition, becoming absorbed in Cissy as I looked into her gorgeous blue eyes, her round face bordered by those full bangs, and her assertiveness being as desirable as her physical appearance. I kissed her tenderly, she responding with her own kisses, sometimes briefly, other times for long, passionate, breathless moments. Two became one, clutching and holding and caressing. The only noise being lip upon lip and the crinkle of silk as we became entwined.
I was scarcely aware of how we became prone on the bed, looking into each other’s eyes, bodies pressed close, so close. The world outside our shared aura did not, for that moment, exist. I pressed myself into her, testing, looking for approval. She didn’t resist. With tunic off, my tie loosened and askew, there was no stopping. Cissy helped me lift her dress, petticoat included, and guided the way.
Later, after catching our breaths, we both lay there staring at the ceiling. Cissy began laughing. I turned to her, grinning in complete satisfaction. “And what is so funny, Miss Cissy Anne Taylor?”
“Oh, I am thinking that you had no idea how your day was to turn out. Did you?”
“No, but the question is, did you?”
She gazed at me from under chaotic bangs. “Not exactly as things happened, but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I arrived here this afternoon with a very open mind. Do you think less of me for that?”
I propped myself up on one elbow and stroked her rosy cheek. “Of course not. It’s just that I’m not familiar with the new demeanor of London women, what with me now living in the backward Canadian Prairie.”
Kissing my hand, she breathed, “That’s what is intriguing about you. You are so experienced and smart, but you have an innocence about you that is so very attractive. Not like so many of the London men I encounter.”
“I hope by ‘men you encounter,’ you don’t mean—”
Cissy held her smile, feigning a punch to my shoulder. “I am pushy, yes, but I hold strict values. I am very selective, Bob.” She clasped my hand and lifted it to her lips for another delightful kiss.
I noticed on my wristwatch that the time for the roast to be put on had passed. With a “Sweet Jesus!” I jumped off the bed and extended my hand for Cissy to join me. She straightened her dress, then excused herself for the toilet. I attended to the dinner before we left for the walk to the park. We had decided to meet Eric, Daisy, and Stanley at Finsbury Station.
The dinner went very well, everyone pitching in with the preparation as well as the cleanup. Eric and I had a chance to speak about the days to come, he traveling directly to France in two days and myself leaving for Brighton in the morning.
At about nine I walked the Pitmans and Cissy to Finsbury Station. At the last moment before the train departed, Cissy placed her hand on my tunic as she had earlier in the afternoon and kissed me ever so briefly, ever so tenderly. I looked up and caught Daisy looking at me with an all-knowing smile, the kind that a woman displays when she, well, just understands.
I walked back to Mrs. Clarke’s home with a cascade of emotions. It was too early to say I was falling in love—unless it had been love at first sight? I felt strongly about returning to war, but now I felt a new closeness. Neither Cissy nor I made any further commitment, but it was Daisy’s knowing look that told me there might be something there to pursue. I felt ever so good.