by Paul Kelly
I was stunned when I heard all this. Such sadness and to the family whom she loved so much, but I was still puzzled about her devoted and loving relationship to Jeremy. I was hesitant to ask her about this matter but she satisfied my curiosity by telling me herself.
“I’m an old woman now Frannie. I’m nearly sixty-six... oh I know I look like a hundred and six with this arthritis thing, but that’s my age and you will have guessed by now that Jeremy is not really a blood relation. His father was Emily’s first husband... well, he probably is related... far back from my father’s misdemeanours, but that being the case or not, doesn’t matter to me now, but isn’t it strange... how Jeremy looks so much like my brother Aelred. I loved Aelred and I love Jeremy. I love him dearly... he’s all I’ve got, you see... well apart from....” She laughed and a tear fell down her pale cheek, “apart form old Marigold....” she sniggered.
I patted her frail hand and assured her that she had me too, if she wanted me... and I was grateful for the opportunity and the means to tell her. She threw back her shoulders and gave me a broad smile.
“Thank you Frannie... thank you dear, I appreciate that. I’ve been a wicked old woman not to have recognised your worth before, but I was so possessive of Jeremy and I wanted him all to myself. I didn’t want to share him... not with anyone... and now....” She took her handkerchief from her sleeve cuff and blew her nose “Things are so different from what I had expected. Emily met your father. I looked after Jeremy and then you came along... then Jeremy grew up. You got married and Jeremy....”
I interrupted her thoughts.
“Jeremy is a good man Aunt Martha... a wonderful man.”
She stroked the faded leather covers of the album tenderly.
“Yes, of course he is my dear, but that’s where it stops doesn’t it? You know that Jeremy is... well, he’s what’s known as a homosexual, did you know that... He won’t ever be happy if he marries... “ I was surprised that she had such knowledge but could not help feeling a great admiration for her philosophy and acceptance of life as it was. I had never seen her in that light before. “Yes Frannie, she went on,. “Jeremy will never get married. He’ll never have children... unless Sebastian can work a miracle,” she giggled. “Nice boy though, isn’t he? Sebastian I mean. I should be jealous of him, shouldn’t I, but strangely enough, I’m not... not in the least... though I sometimes wonder what they both get up to.” she laughed again… but I love Jeremy, warts an’ all,” she sighed, “and he gives me great happiness.”
Chapter Fourteen
I returned to Belgravia... to the infamous flat on Wednesday evening after having stayed with Aunt Martha for over a week. I had to do the shopping again but was more able to carry it myself this time and I was feeling very much better after my rest and my introduction to the new and totally loveable Aunt Martha and her family. The flat looked desolate after the ‘excitement and activity’ of my week at the Manse and I was sorry that I ever had to return to it at all. In my heart, I knew that I was in a place... a situation, that was totally alien to me and I wanted to throw up. I glanced at the ring on the fourth finger of my left hand and I felt a fool... a fraud, if you like. Was this marriage... I wondered... I don’t think I even liked the word... and I was paying dearly for the few stupid seconds it took to say, ‘I do,” when I never really DID.....I set about tidying the place and threw out the flowers from the lounge that stunk of death and the stale water made me want to puke. I also found a note from the window cleaner on the mat, asking for his money, which I hadn’t paid for the last month. The cleaning lady also left her note but she would be round on Friday and I could settle up with her then. She came twice a week. The neglect was entirely my fault. I should have advised all concerned but then, you don’t think of that when you’re called away suddenly... after a thrashing... do you?
I was glad to do the cleaning myself... anything to keep my mind off the return visit of my spouse... and I remember having such wicked thoughts as that he might have an accident on his way home... he could fall down the stairs... or under a bus... preferably a Double Decker… I was beginning to hate him and could understand very clearly now why Aunt Martha had chosen to remain celibate. Would they take me at the Tyburn Convent, I thought... and then I laughed. Me a Nun... the thought amused me as I called to mind a certain American priest who would have laughed with me... I felt sure. I had never had such thoughts as these before in my life. Maybe I should get myself a cat... or a parrot …another Marigold perhaps? ?
I thought again of what Aunt Martha had said as I was changing the dining room curtains for her because I was bored doing nothing and I could hear Marigold squawking as she spoke.
“Montague Blythe-Summers was always a strange character, even as a child. He is a good banker and he knows it, but his methods are shrewd and ruthless. I remember as a young boy, he used to pull the wings off little birds and bring them home to play with, before he killed them... and his parents would laugh. “It’s childlike” they’d say, “Sweet boy.” I never knew him to give me a direct answer and I swear he’d make an excellent politician. He would never say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to anything.”
When I had asked Aunt Martha why she had him in her house and why she did business with him, she replied that they ‘used’ each other. He looked after her investments and her money and she benefited by his expertise in the excellence of his job. He could strike a bargain and ‘make -a -kill’ like no-one else she knew... but so could a scorpion, I thought...
***
That evening I went to bed on my own and looked out at the sky, through the partly opened window where the curtains blew gently in the wind. It was very warm and I got up to open the French doors as I stood for a few moments on the balcony outside. It was cool and the air was fresh and I could see the dark blue velvety blanket sprawling above me with its host of stars beckoning me to get back into my virginal couch and sleep... but they were unconcerned for the problems that were mine and I could not sleep. I lulled myself into a euphoria and tried to put the thoughts of the morrow behind me... and then I thought of Father Garry... what was it he had once said to me... something that St. Paul had written somewhere... wasn’t it... “Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof... “ My thoughts went from my priest friend to the desert with its pale dry evening sands and I strolled in thought through the evening with the cool draft caressing my face and Darius by my side. My life was overcome with peace as I saw him... and the space between the cap and the mask, showing those magnificent eyes. My thoughts were full and jangled, but they were beautiful... because I could see again the one person in my life who was real to me and who alone could fill this gap of hatred that I had in my heart and turn it into peace and love.
I cried myself to sleep... not because I was sad, nor because my Lord and Master would return with all his fury in the morning, but because I was in love... and it hurt.
Chapter Fifteen
‘He’ arrived the following afternoon and called out cheerily as he came through the door as though everything was just wonderful between us and had always been so. He was amazing... I couldn’t believe my ears... (I had started calling Monty just him or he after the first beating as I found it difficult, even distasteful to call him by his Christian name. I had other names for him, of course, but they are unprintable.) He had beaten me in various ways ever since we first got married, but I was naive... I thought he was being playful in a bullying sort of way, imagining that was his way of loving... but I think the mental cruelty was always there and I would cry when I reflected sometimes on the way he had treated me and regarded me as so much inferior to himself, mentally, physically and spiritually. It was hard enough to endure this treatment in the privacy of our home, but it was absolutely crushing and demoralizing when he did it in public, which had become more recent in the last few months.
He kissed me on the cheek and tweaked my bum. It hurt. Then he presented me with a
large bunch of red roses, where he had entwined a phial of rather expensive perfume and a bottle of champagne. Only the chocolates were missing and I wondered why, until he took off his jacket and slung it across the settee.
“Don’t want you to get too fat now darling, do we?” he remarked, “I’ve been so looking forward to coming home. Now go and put on some make-up and I’ll take you out to dinner, there’s a good girl.”
I did as he said with automatic movements, feeling utterly degraded that he should be in such control of everything again, after what he had done to me, but he always talked over me when I tried to resist anything he wanted to do or say, explaining my attitude away, saying that I was suffering from a bout of nerves... or women’s trouble... Women’s trouble covered a multitude of sins....
“That’s the trouble with all beautiful women, my love....” he would say... and I guessed he would be the one to know... better than most.
***
The German woman rang again the following Sunday morning. I guess she thought it best to phone at that time to ensure that she would get her Director-man at home. I had just lifted the receiver in the dining room and recognised her voice... he was speaking to her from the extension in the bedroom and I heard a little of the conversation before I replaced the receiver quietly... only to lift it again, discreetly.
“No, no, no, the usual place … same time Tuesday... Goodbye.” he barked and then he put the phone down, but I heard her calling for him to wait... addressing him as Reggie in her guttural accent.
I laid the table for lunch and pretended I hadn’t heard the call as he came towards me, smiling and smelling of an aftershave I had never smelt before. He kissed me passionately, or tried to... and then began to fondle my breasts.
“Don’t let’s bother about lunch today darling, we can eat later,” he said and his tone was seductive as he led me towards the bedroom and opened the door.
“No, “ I said, “If we’re not eating here at the flat, I want to go for a walk in the park. It’s a beautiful day,” but he ignored what I said and tightened his grip on my arm.
“The beautiful weather can wait. You are the most beautiful person in my life... why waste time?” he snarled as I struggled to be free of him but he held me fast.
“No, no, please... I don’t want....”
He crashed his clenched fist into my face and threw me across the bed.
“I do hope you’re not going to be tiresome again dear, you make it so difficult for me to love you as I should,” he screamed and slammed the bedroom door shut with his foot.
***
I wanted to go out, around the agencies, job-hunting on Monday, but Jeremy called unexpectedly; a surprise visit, I think to ensure that I was alright. He really was quite daring for such a gentle person and my spouse acted up as though everything was in apple-pie order, but I knew by the way Jeremy looked at me, that he could see what was behind the thicker than usual make-up I was wearing.
“Aunt Martha isn’t too well Frannie. Do you think you could pop across to see her?”
Jeremy looked at me in a strange way when he said that and I wasn’t quite sure whether Aunt Martha really was ill or whether he wanted to give me an excuse to get out of the flat for a while. The husband wasn’t at all interested anyway.
“Oh come off it Jeremy,” he said sarcastically, “Your Aunt Martha is a strong old bird. She’ll see us all out. Go home now and make her a pot of herbal tea... there’s a good chap.”
Jeremy turned to me and his eyes were full of pity. I reached across and touched his hand.
“That’s alright Jeremy... I’ll call over this afternoon. I have some shopping to do anyway and it won’t be out of my way.”
Monty glared at me and his eyes were blazing.
“You won’t leave this place until I say so,” he said and opened the door for Jeremy to leave. “Besides... your friend will be missing you Jeremy. I wouldn’t keep him waiting too long. I’m sure his needs are very urgent...” he added with a smirk across his face.
I could see Jeremy studying my eyes as he left and I gave him a look to let him know that I was alright and that I would call to see Aunt Martha at the earliest opportunity.
“Bye Frannie... “
“Bye Jeremy... and thanks for calling.”
Monty added his goodbyes, but Jeremy ignored him and left the flat without saying another word.
***
Later that evening, after I had done the shopping and gone to see Aunt Martha, despite the ‘ master’s’ prohibition, and having found Aunt Martha with a bad cold, but thankfully nothing worse, I returned to the flat to find him sitting in the lounge with his dressing gown on and ready to go to bed. It was only 7.0 p.m..
“I have to be in Stuttgart tomorrow evening and I want to make an early start in the morning, so we can go to bed now,” he announced as he marched towards the bedroom door.
“But I don’t want to go to bed so early,” I protested, wishing I had stayed longer with Aunt Martha.
“Oh don’t be so bloody tedious darling. Get undressed and do as I say,” he snapped and I was about to argue when he slapped me across the mouth “When will you ever learn not to contradict me. You promised to love, honour and obey... remember darling? Now get into bed and no more nonsense.”
He opened the bedroom door for me to enter... of my own accord... or otherwise. The choice was mine... as always, I was reminded as he pushed me through the door.
***
Monty started buying me cheap and pungent smelling perfume, which surprised me as he had such elegant and excellent taste for most things and had always insisted on buying me the best and most expensive, in the past. Perhaps he knew how much I hated the stuff or else, it might have had something to do with his perverted ego. I had always felt that a woman’s perfume should whisper and not shout, but he would go to any length to annoy me with these strong, stale smelling perfumes and then he would sit back and laugh. This conduct and attitude may have suited his other women, but it didn’t suit me....
“You’re too touchy by far my love,” he would say and then slide his hands over my waist, stopping when he knew he was winding me up. I would stand still with my eyes closed, waiting for the fetish ceremony to end. I knew I would get some of that cheap, revolting scent when he returned from Germany and I couldn’t wait for him to leave the flat and the stench of him and his perversion could leave my nostrils.
“Will you be away long?” I asked, hoping that he would say he wasn’t coming back... Oh God, how I wished he would go to that woman with the guttural accent, whoever the hell she was... and stay with her....
“I’m not sure,” he replied, “I’ll wire you when I can tell.”
Not the answer I wanted, if I was to make any plans of my own, I thought. He left for Stuttgart that morning about 6.0am... and I had endured a dreadful night.
I WISHED HIM IN HELL …and it was so difficult for me to see the handsome; well- dressed and elegant man who walked away from me at that moment as the same man I had married only two years before. I was learning to loathe him and I hated myself for feeling as I did. When we dined out, wherever we went, in restaurants or hotels, he would try to humiliate me, but covered it up with a slimy, pretentious smile and I could see other women looking at us with envy, thinking no doubt, what a handsome couple we were. Suitable in so many ways... Oh my God... if only they knew the half of it, they would vomit on the spot and I was never happier than when he was away from me and the farther away, the better... so that then I could get on with things that I wanted to do... for myself, without waiting for his command or approval.
***
He had been gone only three days when I had a telephone call from Jeremy at 1.35 in the morning... I had been asleep, but Jeremy sounded very distressed and asked if he could come over to see me. He and Aunt Martha kne
w that my Lord and Master was cavorting somewhere on the continent, for business purposes only... of course ...and I agreed that Jeremy should come round, even at such an ungodly hour, realizing that it must be something of the utmost importance, although he would not discuss the nature of his business over the phone. I made some fresh coffee and waited for him to arrive and when he did... he looked rough as I opened the door and saw him sanding there.
“Frannie. I’m sorry... can you pay the taxi for me please?” he asked and I gave him a ten pound note. He went downstairs again and returned with the change... like a scolded schoolboy. He was pleased when I told him to keep it and he stuffed it hurriedly into his pocket, then peeled his coat from his shoulders and fell heavily into a large armchair; the one that I used for the cat that had wandered in from nowhere one day and stayed with us for over a month... I hadn’t time to warn him about the hairs, but I needn’t have bothered anyway, for suddenly there was a loud squeal and the animal dug her claws into Jeremy’s behind.
“Bloody ‘ell, what’s that?” he shrieked as he jumped up, rubbing his rump with the palm of his hand.
“Sit here,” I said and directed him to the settee, where I intended to sit beside him when I brought the coffee.
“Do you want something to eat?”
“No thanks Frannie... Coffee will do nicely... and I’m sorry... “
I waved my hand in the air, knowing that he must have had a very good reason for visiting me at that time, or he would never have come and besides, even if it was in the middle of the night, I had nothing to get up for in the morning and I could have stayed in bed for the rest of the day if I wanted... Jeremy held his hands over his eyes as if the light was too strong and I turned it off, switching on the lamp on the bureau, as I went into the kitchen and brought the coffee and beakers into the lounge.
