Monday Girl

by Doris Davidson

  ‘But it didn’t stop you from going back again and again to him, and letting him . . . use you?’

  She realised that this was what was most difficult for him to comprehend, and she could hardly understand it herself now. ‘Glynn, I can’t offer any excuses. I can’t explain, even to myself, why I was drawn to him like that in spite of what I knew about him. It was an obsession. I couldn’t get him out of my system. I didn’t want to believe he was unfaithful to me, even if I’d seen it with my own eyes. I always pushed that picture out of my mind, and pretended that it had just been a dream, a nightmare.’

  He lifted his eyes again, sympathetic, sad eyes, not angry.

  ‘You’re sure your mother got him out of her system, too?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure, but what’s that got to do with . . . ?’

  ‘I was wondering if this man could be the reason for her refusing to marry Fred Schaper.’

  ‘He told you he’d asked her? No, I’m sure Fergus had nothing to do with her not marrying Fred. She said she didn’t want to take the chance of being made a widow again.’

  Glynn slipped back into his brooding silence, and Renee tensed herself to keep on persuading him that the hypnotic fascination which Fergus Cooper had held for her had been killed by Fergus himself in the end.

  ‘Renee.’ His look was searching. ‘Why did you let our wedding go ahead for a Monday, when you knew . . . ?

  ‘Glynn, I swear to you I didn’t remember anything about that.’ She felt desperate. ‘I loved you so much, even fixing the wedding day for a Monday didn’t remind me about him. He’d meant nothing to me for years, and I wouldn’t have thought about him at all if you hadn’t said that you’d always remember Mondays. That was what brought it all back to me.’

  He put his hands up to his face. ‘Oh, Renee, I want to believe you, but . . .’

  ‘But you’ll never believe that it’s you I love and not Fergus,’ she finished for him. ‘I can understand that, Glynn, but please, please, listen to me. I love you more deeply and more truly than anything I ever felt for him.’ Her eyes shone with the truth of this, as she waited for him to reply.

  ‘Oh, God!’ he said, at last. ‘God, Renee, I love you with every part of me, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.’

  ‘You won’t lose me, Glynn, darling, not if you want me – if you want to keep me. I can’t bear the thought of losing you either.’

  He ran one hand wildly through his hair, then leaned over with his face close to hers. ‘I have to trust you, otherwise our marriage would be worth nothing.’ His tortured eyes burned into hers with a strength that almost frightened her.

  ‘You can trust me completely, utterly, totally – I can’t think of any more words to convince you, but it’s true.’ She held her lips up to his, praying that he wouldn’t turn away. There was no passion in their kiss, and no desire followed it. He cradled her in his arms until they fell asleep, both exhausted by the emotional ordeal they had just come through.

  They rose late in the morning, almost too late for breakfast, and Renee could see the two young waitresses giggling in the corner of the dining room when they went in. She could imagine the jokes they must be making about the honeymoon couple having had a hectic night, and thought ruefully that they wouldn’t think it was so comical if they knew what had really happened the night before in the second-floor bedroom. Glynn had hardly spoken to her since they woke, because they’d been rushing to be in time for breakfast, but he had taken her in his arms and kissed her tenderly before they left the room.

  At the table, they discussed where they would go that day, acting like a couple who had been married for years, while Renee wondered if they would ever recapture the warm, loving, free-and-easy relationship they’d had before, and should have even more so now that they were husband and wife.

  They went to the Palace of Holyroodhouse first, where she showed him where Darnley’s conspirators had plunged their daggers into David Rizzio, thinking he was the Queen’s lover. She had been in Edinburgh once before, when her father was alive, and even after more than ten years, she could still remember all that she had learned on that visit. History, especially the life of Mary, Queen of Scots, had always fascinated her, and Glynn was an interested listener. They walked up the Royal Mile, and spent the afternoon immersing themselves in the intriguing history of the Castle.

  ‘This little room is where Mary gave birth to her son, who became James the Sixth of Scotland and First of England.’ Glynn smiled. ‘It’s very small, but I suppose it was only an old-time labour ward.’

  Renee was pleased that he seemed to have regained his sense of humour, and they moved on. Before they left the Castle, she took him into St Margaret’s Chapel, built in

  1076 by Margaret, Queen of Malcolm III, where a plan formed in the girl’s mind, but she decided to keep quiet about it at the moment.

  She would really have preferred to implement it here, but there were two other people in the tiny building and it wouldn’t have been feasible. There was another place, though, she remembered, happily, which might be an even better setting for what she had in mind. She hugged her secret as they walked down the hill, only telling Glynn that they were on their way to visit St Giles’ Cathedral, which they had passed on their way up to the Castle. To whet his interest, she told him the story of little Jenny Geddes throwing a stool at John Knox, the great preacher, because she disagreed with his teaching.

  ‘Your Scottish history is every bit as turbulent as the history of Wales,’ he remarked. ‘Tell me, all the things you’ve spoken about today – do you remember them from being here with your father, or did you learn them at school?’

  ‘A bit of both, I suppose, and I probably only remember what I found most interesting at the time.’

  They had arrived at the doors of St Giles and went through into the cool peace of the Cathedral. As they walked round, Renee said, quietly, ‘Sit down, Glynn, and we can ask God’s blessing on our marriage.’ This was what she’d thought of back in the small chapel at the Castle, but she was doubtful now if even this would afford them a fresh start.

  Giving her a quick, apprehensive glance, Glynn sat down and reached for her hand.

  For several minutes they remained there, with heads bowed and hands held tightly, allowing the serenity of the holy building to take possession of them.

  Dear God, Renee prayed silently, let Glynn forgive me for what I did when I was too young to know any better. Make him understand that he’s my whole life now, and that nobody means anything to me except him. Amen.

  As an afterthought, she added, I’ll always be a good wife to him, and if he has to be sent away to fight, I promise to be faithful to him. Amen again.

  When they stood up, she felt that they were truly husband and wife now, in the eyes of God as well as in the eyes of the world. A calm peace had entered her soul, and she trusted that it had been the same for Glynn.

  She was overjoyed when he turned to her in the street outside and said softly, ‘I’m very pleased you thought about that, my darling. A registry office wedding doesn’t exactly make you feel properly married, does it?’

  They returned to the hotel in good time for dinner at seven, but while they washed and dressed, Glynn spoke only of what they had seen and done during the day, and made no move to kiss her or touch her in any way. Renee was bitterly disappointed. He still hadn’t recovered from the shock of the previous night. He was friendly, amusing, but treating her as a friend, not as a bride. How long would it take him to forget . . . or accept?

  After their meal, they went for a walk along Princes Street Gardens, which looked magnificent in the rays of the setting sun. When they came to the Scott Monument, Glynn stopped walking, but he kept his eyes on the Castle towering above them to the left.

  ‘Renee, I’m sorry our honeymoon isn’t going the way we expected,’ he said simply.

  ‘I�
��m enjoying it,’ she protested. ‘I love Edinburgh.’

  ‘That’s not what I mean, and you know it.’ He glanced at her quickly, then turned towards the solid dark silhouette again. ‘I’ve tried hard to come to terms with what you told me last night, and I’ve reached a conclusion.’

  ‘Yes?’ She sounded alarmed. Was he going to tell her that their marriage had been a mistake? Was he going to suggest that they have it annulled?

  ‘Either we go on as we’ve been doing all day, ignoring the problem, which would be intolerable for both of us, or else . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ she said again. ‘Or else?’

  ‘Or else we’ll both have to learn to forget about Fergus Cooper and what he did to you. That’s the only way we can have a decent life together.’

  ‘I’ve forgotten already,’ she assured him, quickly.

  Glynn bowed his head. ‘I haven’t, Renee. I can’t. I am trying, but I find it very difficult.’

  She touched his arm. ‘I know. But Glynn, please keep on trying. Please, just for me?’

  He turned and drew her towards him. ‘We can make a go of it, can’t we, Renee?’ His eyes were earnest, anxious.

  ‘I’m sure we can, darling.’ Her pulse was racing. It was going to be all right.

  At last he kissed her, a long, tender kiss. ‘I’ll try, Renee, for my own sake as well as yours, but you’ll need to have patience with me. It might take some time.’

  Her heart began to sing. She would do her utmost to help him forget the past, and someday, very soon, nothing would come between them.

  In bed, Glynn kissed her once more, and her spirits rose even higher, until he abruptly released his hold on her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Renee. I can’t. Not tonight. Not yet.’

  She could understand what he felt, but that didn’t make it any easier for her. Was this going to be the pattern of all their nights together? Hurt and frustrated, she lay for over an hour listening to his steady breathing, before drifting into a troubled sleep.

  On Wednesday, they took a bus to Cramond, and walked along the side of the River Forth, back towards Leith. They ambled, slowly and easily, stopping now and then for a cup of tea or a snack in a little cafe, and arrived back at the hotel with an hour to rest before dinner. They lay, fully clothed, on the bed, silent but companionable, until it was time to get dressed.

  In the evening, while they were climbing Calton Hill, Renee reflected that Glynn had become a master of smalltalk, and wished with all her heart that he would say something romantic to her, for a change. He had been right yesterday. This honeymoon wasn’t turning out as she had expected, but even looking out over the view below, she couldn’t bring the subject up again.

  That night was to be their last in Edinburgh, and Renee slid into bed hoping for a miracle. Glynn lay beside her, and she nestled in his arms while they talked about going home the next day, and how things would improve when they were sleeping in their own bedroom.

  They’d bought an oak dressing-table and wardrobe the week before, to match the double bed which Anne had purchased when the Donaldsons came to lodge with her, and which had been moved into the attic bedroom. They’d also bought two rexine easy chairs to make their other room more like a sitting room, so that they would have their own little domain away from the rest of the house.

  At last, Glynn said, ‘Goodnight, darling,’ and brushed her lips lightly with his before turning his back on her.

  She could hardly believe it. He wasn’t trying. He didn’t want to banish her revelations from his mind. She couldn’t go on like this – she needed love, proper, total love. She lay, open-eyed and unmoving, remembering how she’d dreamt of this honeymoon with Glynn, of him being romantic, tender and passionate, not cold and distant, like this. Self-pity surging up in her, she wept silently for the fifteen-year-old virgin who had been hypnotised by a practised seducer, for the sixteen-year-old girl whose hopes and dreams had been riven apart, for the almost nineteen-year-old bride whose marriage was apparently doomed to be unconsummated.

  If Anne Gordon suspected, when they returned to Aberdeen, that her daughter and son-in-law were not as happy as they should have been, she said nothing about it. They sat with her all evening, describing what they’d seen in Edinburgh, and assuring her that their honeymoon had been perfect.

  When, at last, they went up to their bedroom, Glynn got into bed first and lay with his hands behind his head, watching Renee undress.

  Aware that he was looking at her, she took her time, feeling like a cheap strip-tease artiste deliberately trying to kindle his desire. When she finally stood naked, she picked up her folded nightdress and shook it out slowly, hesitating before she pulled it over her head, and hoping that Glynn would tell her not to bother. But there was no reaction from him, so she put it on and slipped under the blankets beside him.

  He made no move for a few minutes, then lowered his arms. ‘God, I’m tired. I’ll have to get some sleep. Goodnight, my darling.’ He gave her the light kiss she was beginning to resent, then turned round, facing away from her, and within a short time, he was fast asleep.

  Renee sighed and gave up. What was the use of hoping? Glynn had said that it would take some time, and he’d meant it. She felt quite tired herself, anyway, after the ordeal of the past three loveless nights, so she snuggled down and let sleep claim her almost immediately.

  Glynn had to report for duty on Friday evening, and he left her with the usual hasty peck. He told her that he might be back on Saturday afternoon, but probably not, as he might have to be on duty for the whole weekend.

  Renee wandered back into the living room and sat down opposite her mother.

  ‘Is everything all right between you two?’ Anne asked.

  ‘You look a bit under the weather.’

  ‘Everything’s great,’ Renee lied. ‘We’ve just had a few late nights lately.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Anne’s twinkling eyes revealed what she was thinking, and the girl felt like shouting the truth at her.

  On Monday morning, Renee found Sheila Daun’s good-natured teasing hard to take, but forced herself to laugh and joke along with her.

  Glynn was helping Anne in the scullery when Renee went home at six o’clock, but they spent the evening in their own

  ‘sitting room’ listening to the wireless he’d bought, and making light inconsequential conversation. At a quarter past ten, she went downstairs to make cocoa, and was surprised to find him in bed when she brought up the tray. Glynn finished his cup quickly but Renee sipped slowly, making it last deliberately. She hadn’t shared the bed with him since Thursday, which had meant three nights without the tension he seemed to create, and was dreading his rejection again.

  When she lay down beside him, however, he turned to her and cupped her breasts, gently at first, then more insistently until she gasped at his ferocity. He’d had time to consider, she thought happily, time to forgive her for her past indiscretion. His hands moved down her body, banishing any further thought, and she could feel his manhood straining against her as he pulled off her nightdress without a word.

  She gave herself up to the exquisite delight of their very first, full mating, her own need now as great as his, her response to him uninhibitedly eager. ‘I love you, Glynn,’ she moaned.

  ‘I love you too, my Monday girl,’ he said, harshly, his teeth grating against hers. Horrified and shocked, she tried to struggle away from him, but he kept her firmly pinned beneath him until he satisfied himself then rolled over and laughed vindictively.

  ‘Did you think I could forget so easily?’

  It hadn’t occurred to her that it was another Monday, and she was nauseated by what he had done. She felt that she’d been violated, and was so furious that even tears would have been no relief.

  ‘You callous, unfeeling brute,’ she said angrily. ‘I despise you for that, Glynn Williams.’

>   ‘I can’t be first with you,’ he said flatly, ‘but you’re mine for the rest of your life, and it will always be Mondays, only Mondays.’

  ‘My God, Glynn, you’re as cruel as Fergus was.’

  ‘It isn’t cruel to make love to my wife for the very first time,’ he said, sarcastically. ‘I’m only trying to make sure it’ll be me you’ll always think of on Mondays, even if I’m not here with you.’

  A possible excuse for his behaviour occurred to her then.

  ‘Have you been drinking, Glynn?’ Her mother had told her that he’d arrived home only a few minutes before she did herself.

  ‘I had a few in the mess in the afternoon, but I’m not drunk.’

  ‘Well, how could you? Do you realise how much you hurt me by saying that?’

  ‘Not as much as you hurt me last Monday night.’ His laugh was mirthless.

  ‘Stop torturing yourself, Glynn . . . and me. I’ve told you, I love you. You, and only you. Not Fergus, not anyone else. All that was in the past.’

  He smirked slyly. ‘So you say, but it’s significant that you always bring his name into conversation.’

  She turned away from him, feeling bitter. ‘That’s not fair, and you know it.’

  He put his arms round her and made her face him again. His eyes were full of repentance as he said, misquoting,

  ‘Nothing’s fair in love and war, I do love you, Renee. I love you with all my heart. I asked you to be patient with me, remember?’

  ‘I remember, but it’s difficult for me as well. You said we should both try to be sensible, to forget.’

  ‘I meant it, and I have tried, but I’ll try even harder. I’m sorry, my darling.’

  His earnestness touched her, and she leaned forward to kiss him. ‘Goodnight, Glynn darling.’

  ‘Goodnight, my lovely.’ He fell asleep with his arms still round her but Renee lay awake far into the small hours, hating Fergus Cooper but thankful that he would never know the mockery her marriage had become because of him.