A Little Learning

by Anne Bennett

  Janet thought it felt terribly grown up to have your parents for a meal in your own place. Everything had been wonderful, from the minute she’d picked them both up at the station in a taxi. Bert had been pressed into a suit and was hot and uncomfortable in it, for although it was only May, the day was sultry and warm. He’d also been warned about swearing.

  ‘Don’t you be bad-mouthing and letting our Janet down in front of her posh friends,’ Betty had warned. ‘And don’t you dare take off your jacket and show your braces, and I don’t care how hot you are.’

  So Bert had sat in Janet’s flat prickly with the heat, feeling his shirt collar tightening on his sweating neck with the unaccustomed tie and tried to make polite conversation with Lou and Shirley. They’d agreed to stay in for a little while to meet Bert and Betty and then go off and do their own thing so that Janet could have some time alone with her parents.

  Despite the fact that Bert liked Lou and Shirley, he breathed a sigh of relief when they’d gone, for Janet immediately said, ‘Take your jacket off, Dad, it looks like a straitjacket on you, and your tie if you like, and loosen your top shirt button, I can see you are sweating like a pig.’

  Bert did as his daughter advised, with a smug look at his wife. Janet was a bit of all right, he decided, and he didn’t need to be so particular about his language either, for she wouldn’t faint from shock if she heard him swearing. She was, after all, more than used to it.

  Bert and Betty were very proud of their Janet’s flat. ‘You have it really nice, pet,’ Betty commented more than once.

  ‘Well, it isn’t just mine, remember,’ Janet said, ‘and Shirley’s parents have helped a lot.’

  ‘Are they well off, lass?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Janet said, ‘but they’re the sort of rich who don’t mind spreading it about a bit, and they’re very nice.’

  ‘Well, their daughter seemed pleasant enough,’ Bert conceded. He patted his stomach, for they’d just eaten, and commented, ‘And you’re a decent little cook as well, almost as good as your mother.’

  Later, as they were about to leave, Betty hugged her and said, ‘It’s smashing, pet, better than I thought, and it’s good to see it. Now when I think of you, I’ll be able to place you in your bedroom, or kitchen, or whatever. It helps somehow.’

  Bert didn’t say it helped him too, or tell her it had been bad enough for him she’d left home to go to university. He thought the hostel had sounded a little strict, and the caretaker a battleaxe, but at least while Janet was there he felt she was being looked after. If he was totally honest, he knew that a woman like Mrs McPhearson would not tolerate any sort of carry-on in her house, and therefore it had been a bit of a shock to him when Janet said she wanted to find a flat of her own.

  His mind had worked overtime. ‘What d’you think she wants a flat for, Betty?’ he’d asked.

  ‘Well,’ Betty had said, ‘I expect she needs her own space more. She’s matured in the year away from home. It’s probably time for a change.’

  ‘What if she … she takes men up?’ Bert said tentatively.

  ‘What if she does?’ Betty said. ‘Our Janet does know right from wrong, and she is sharing with two other girls.’

  ‘Well, I know that, but …’

  ‘Look, Bert, you’ve got to face it, she’s growing up. She might take her young men up to the flat but so what? We were always looking for lonely spots to do our courting.’

  ‘Yes, but they were bloody hard to find, weren’t they, girl?’ Bert burst out, knowing that often it was the lack of privacy that had kept his feelings in check. He was tortured, at first, by the thought that his Janet had all the privacy she wanted.

  But now he’d seen her flat. She’d been delighted they’d come, pleased as a child to point out the things they’d bought for the place and show them around. He’d met Janet’s flatmates and knew them to be nice, pleasant girls from good homes. It set his mind at rest, but if he told Janet any of it she’d be angry with him. So, when he caught her eye over the top of Betty’s head, he smiled, as if at his wife’s foolishness, and leant over to kiss his daughter goodbye.

  All through the late summer of 1956, the news was dominated by what was happening in Egypt, where President Nasser had nationalised the Suez Canal. ‘He could hold the world to ransom over this if he liked,’ Bert said. ‘If he cuts off the oil supply.’

  ‘Well, I’m just glad our Duncan has finished his national service,’ declared Betty.

  ‘That won’t save him if this blows up,’ Bert said. ‘If there’s call-up, he’ll be one of the first to go.’

  Janet looked at her mother’s stricken face and wished her father had kept quiet. Nothing definite had happened by the time she returned to college, though most thinking people knew that the world was hovering on the edge of a crisis.

  Shirley’s father struggled up the stairs with a large box the day he returned his daughter to the flat. It was a box that Janet had seen only once before on Coronation Day and could hardly believe her eyes. ‘A television!’ she shrieked. ‘You’ve never actually got a television set?’

  ‘It was supposed to be for my birthday,’ Shirley said, ‘but Daddy said I ought to have it now and installed here, so that we can keep up with what’s happening in the news.’

  The television was marvellous and had the commercial channel as well as the BBC. They were all watching it when they heard the news of the insurrection in Hungary which began with the destruction of the hated Stalin’s monument in the centre of Budapest. The Hungarians had few weapons but those they pilfered, and no trained armies; just Molotov cocktails and great determination. The world seemed to be holding its breath, and the occupants of the flat, and many friends who’d crowd in every evening, watched the patchy smuggled newsreel footage almost in disbelief.

  Danny Benedicti was a name they heard often, as the charismatic leader urged his comrades, some only teenagers, to cause disarray among the Russian troops. Then, at the end of October, British, French and Israeli troops invaded Egypt. The general opinion was that it was just a small skirmish and Egypt would soon be brought to heel. Meanwhile, Hungary had won a wonderful victory, for on the last day of October the Russian tanks and troops rolled out of Budapest.

  The joy of the Hungarian people was infectious. They could barely believe they’d beaten a superpower and a carnival atmosphere existed in the streets. Their prime minister declared Hungary to be a neutral country.

  However, at the same time, Egypt’s military targets were bombed by British and French aircraft, and it was obvious that the skirmish was escalating. Britain prepared for all-out war, troops were on alert and reservists, including Duncan, received their call-up papers.

  The flat was crowded every evening at nine to watch the news, then they’d drink endless cups of coffee as they discussed the issues. ‘Thank goodness that at least Hungary’s problems are over,’ Shirley said one evening in early November.

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ Janet said.

  ‘Don’t be silly, they’ve won,’ Lou said. ‘The Russians have pulled out.’

  ‘Yes,’ Janet said, ‘but if I were in charge of Russia now, this would be the time to counterattack, wouldn’t it, with the world’s weapons and troops concentrated in Egypt? And Dad always said that Russians weren’t to be trusted.’

  ‘Janet Travers and her father, the perpetual pessimists,’ Simon said with a chuckle. He pulled her on to the settee beside him and advised, ‘Stop worrying about the whole world and worry about me for a change.’

  But over the next few evenings, it was obvious from the scrappy news items smuggled out of Eastern Europe that all was not well, although it was some days before the world knew the scale of the carnage. They learned that 150,000 troops and 3,000 tanks had been sent into Hungary to quell the embryonic revolution, and a reign of terror ensued, with people gunned down indiscriminately as they queued for basic foodstuffs and not even Red Cross vehicles given immunity.

  The Western world urged the Hu
ngarians to hold on, but could offer no support. Anthony Eden appeared on television to explain Britain’s position and why it was necessary to invade Egypt. Everyone knew there was nothing to spare for Hungary and that the people hadn’t a chance. Refugees poured out of the city and thousands of people, many of them only children, disappeared altogether.

  Meanwhile Duncan was preparing to leave for Egypt. French and British paratroopers had been flown in, and their navies had attacked by sea, when President Eisenhower intervened and a ceasefire was agreed upon. Janet was glad that a major catastrophe had been averted and Duncan was safe, but no one could be really happy when they saw the pictures of the Hungarian refugees, many of whom reached Britain, cold and destitute.

  Janet was frustrated by her own helplessness and was glad of Simon’s comforting arms around her and the feeling of safety they gave her. She suddenly felt stifled by the flat and the noise of everyone in it. She knew they would linger for hours and talk on and on about a desperate situation that all the words in the world couldn’t alter. Simon was beginning to recognise many of the moods that he read in Janet’s expressive face and eyes, and taking her hand, they escaped from the crowded flat and walked the damp and cold November streets together.

  Janet had been badly affected by what she’d seen, and much of the abrasive shell she wrapped around herself had been softened by the tears she’d shed. She welcomed Simon’s presence and didn’t object when his arm tightened around her, nor did she say anything when he kissed her passionately in the partial privacy of a shop doorway. She responded ardently, and perhaps because her emotions had already been touched in a deep and special way that evening, she became violently aroused by him. She’d been affected by his lovemaking for some time, but never with the intensity she felt then. She wanted him to make love to her now, urgently, and it was a revelation about her feelings for him. Had the flat been empty, she might have suggested going back.

  Simon, though not privy to Janet’s thoughts, was aware of something happening between them, some spark that had been missing previously. He felt Janet trembling in his arms and decided that if he didn’t speak of his feelings now, he might never do so. ‘Janet,’ he began, ‘I love you. I think I always have, ever since the house-warming, when I promised to bring that book round just so I could see you again.’

  ‘Oh, Simon.’

  ‘How … how do you feel about me?’

  Janet didn’t know how to answer, for she’d scarcely come to terms with the new, fragile feelings she had just become aware of. She pulled his head down and kissed him with a passion that surprised herself. The strong yearnings in her body reminded her of her romance with Ben, and she tried to push her memories away and concentrate on the man who’d just told her he loved her.

  When, eventually, they broke apart, they were both breathless. ‘Oh, Janet,’ Simon said, holding her close, ‘God, Janet, I love you, and I want you so badly.’

  ‘I love you too, Simon,’ Janet said, and she meant it. ‘And I want you too.’

  Simon gasped, scarcely able to believe he’d heard right. Janet, while aware of the change in their relationship, knew that to agree to sleep with him was a giant step forward, and yet she couldn’t just keep refusing Simon, especially when her own body was crying out too. But first, she thought, in all fairness she had to tell him about Ben.

  She began the tale in the flat much later, when they’d eventually made their way home. Most people had drifted away and Lou and Shirley took themselves off to bed, recognising Janet’s need to be alone with Simon. She made coffee and they sat on the floor before the fire, and she told him about Ben Hayman.

  Simon understood much more about Janet and her reluctance to commit herself to anyone again as he listened to the tale of Ben Hayman’s betrayal. He saw the hurt that lurked in her eyes still. He wanted to kiss it away for her, he wanted to lie beside her and make love on the rug before the fire. He could feel the stirrings of Janet’s body against his and guessed she felt the same, but both were aware of the two girls sleeping only a few feet away, the other side of the paper-thin walls of the flat.

  ‘How do you feel about this Ben Hayman now?’ Simon asked when Janet had finished speaking. ‘I mean, you were hurt by what he did and perhaps angry, but do you still feel anything for him now?’

  ‘He was … Ben was in a different life,’ Janet said. She couldn’t tell this man who loved her that she still felt there was something between her and Ben. Anyway, she reasoned, maybe there isn’t. I was so upset at Chloe’s funeral my emotions were bound to be mixed up.

  Should she tell Simon all this when she couldn’t understand it herself? What purpose would it serve, and did it really matter if she still felt something for Ben? He was married and living in America. So she smiled at Simon and said, ‘He means nothing to me, Simon, nothing at all. It’s you I love.’

  In the following weeks, till the term ended for Christmas, Janet often felt there was some sort of conspiracy to save her immortal soul from damnation, for she and Simon never seemed able to be alone at all for more than a few minutes at a time. The rules about each girl having the flat to herself one night a week had gone by the board. In the flurry of Christmas end-of-term, when essay deadlines and lectures had to be juggled with the parties that someone always seemed to be throwing and a flat that never seemed to empty of people, finding time for themselves was impossible.

  By the time term was breaking up, both Simon and Janet were getting desperate. Their lack of privacy and subsequent curtailed lovemaking had increased their desire for one another, and Janet knew something would have to be arranged before she went home for Christmas.

  Janet told her parents that term finished two days later than it actually did, and she’d barely waved Lou and Shirley off before Simon, as arranged, was knocking on the door.

  They thought it would be easy. The kisses that Janet had once described as ‘pleasant’ now lifted her to heights of excitement, and their subsequent lovemaking had become more ardent. But this had been in stolen moments, the excitement increased by the small amount of time they had available and the possibility of discovery.

  But they lay on the bed, wide-eyed and embarrassed, in an empty flat with no one to disturb them and felt almost shy with one another. Janet, modestly clad in a nightie, said, ‘Shall I turn the light out?’

  Simon, in borrowed pyjamas beside her, answered, ‘D’you usually have the light out?’

  Janet stared at him. ‘Of course I do to go to sleep. I don’t know what I do about making love, because I’ve never done it here before. D’you think I’m in the habit of taking men to bed?’ The ridiculousness of the situation wiped out her embarrassment and she began to giggle.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Simon asked.

  ‘We are,’ Janet said. ‘Two liberated college students at the very end of 1956 and we’re behaving like we’re at a Sunday school outing.’

  She snapped off the light, leapt into bed and kissed Simon, long, lingering and hungrily. After that it was all right and basic instincts took over, and she gave herself up to the pleasure so exquisite they both cried out and then lay back, spent, on the bed.

  Do I really love him? Janet asked herself later. Or is it just that my body wants sex? She lay wide awake listening to Simon’s even breathing beside her, trying to marshal her thoughts. She wondered if it were normal to have had sex with two men by the age of twenty. She knew that Lou and Shirley would say she shouldn’t think about things so much. She almost wished they were here; they would have laughed and joked her out of her doubts.

  But despite the doubts, Janet enjoyed her two days with Simon, just the pair of them in the flat. She was sorry when it was time to pack to go home, though the pull of the family had made her anxious to see everyone again. She put her arms around Simon. ‘Oh, I’m going to miss you,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘Let me come and see you?’ Simon said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Janet said uncertainly.

  ‘What is it? I
got on all right with your family last time.’

  ‘I know, it’s just …’ It was such a family time at the Travers house, and by including Simon Janet knew she would be placing their relationship on a more intimate level. But then it was more intimate. She loved him, she knew that now, and he said he loved her. He would be looking for commitment – marriage – he was that sort of man. That frightened Janet a bit, but when they married he would be part of her family too.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘yes, I’d like you to come.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Give me a couple of days at home,’ Janet said, ‘and let your parents see something of you first, and then I’d be delighted for you to come.’

  Simon was so happy and excited by the new feeling between them he felt he would burst, and he crushed Janet to him in a passionate embrace. She responded ardently to the man she had just discovered she loved with all her heart.

  Janet went round to Ruth’s that Christmas holiday as soon as she decently could. She was particularly interested in seeing her as Ruth had mentioned in her last letter that Ben thought he’d caught sight of Richard Carter at a conference in America. Janet wanted to know if there was any more news.

  But Ruth couldn’t enlighten her further. ‘I wrote and asked Ben all about it,’ she said, ‘but he hadn’t been aware that Claire had virtually disappeared without trace since the day of the funeral, or he might have tried harder to catch hold of Richard. He thought he saw him walk out of the hall they were in and assumed he’d be at the bar, but there was no trace of him, and though he asked a few people, no one recognised the name. He said it might not have been Richard, he could have been mistaken, and if it was him, he’d aged a lot.’

  ‘Did he say how?’

  ‘Well, he only caught a glimpse of his face, but he said his hair at the sides is grey.’

  ‘But he’s not old,’ protested Janet.