Unforgettable

by Gloria Cook

Tilly’s tender face was aglow with smiles. Finn treated her as if she was a delicate petal. He held her hand and he hugged her gently. He left her at Petherton’s back door with a kiss on either cheek then a warm touch on her lips. He always spoke kindly to her, he laughed with her and never at her, and asked often if she was all right. He had even brought her back a little gift when he returned from seeing his new academy principal. The two-inch glass angel with tall wings she would treasure forever. He had said, ‘I’ll be away all through the week but we’ll see each other nearly as much as before.’ Tilly couldn’t be happier with her courtship.

  Her sister Cathy at Meadows House envied her. ‘I wish someone like your Finn would come to the House,’ she’d lamented, ‘or I’ll end up as an old maid.’

  ‘Your time will come,’ Tilly had reassured her.

  With sighs of woe, Jenna said, ‘You’re lucky.’

  ‘You said that with heartfelt envy and . . .’ Another description wouldn’t come to Tilly, then she was worried. ‘Heck, he hasn’t tried anything else, has he?’

  ‘No of course not – and he wouldn’t get very far if he did.’

  Jenna had lied on both counts. After going through the cocoa and biscuits routine, when Tilly was fast asleep and little Maia snuggled in between them and sucking her thumb, Jenna lay awake in the darkness on her side, weeping silent tears.

  A few weeks ago Sam had surprised her by slipping into the house while her parents were out making their monthly visit to Jean’s mother, who years ago had gone to live in nearby Helland. ‘Thought I’d take the chance to see you all alone for once,’ Sam had said cheekily.

  ‘I can’t stop for long,’ she had said at the sewing machine, distinctly uncomfortable at his unexpected appearance and the sly twist in his eyes. ‘I promised Mum I’d get all this done before she gets back.’

  ‘I won’t hold you up for long. I’ve got work to get back to too. I just want a proper cuddle, that’s all.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ She’d stayed rigidly where she was but he was soon yanking her into his tight embrace. He didn’t aim his lips at hers but nuzzled her neck and throat, forcing her head back uncomfortably. His breathing was heavy and snorting.

  ‘Gently, Sam, I don’t like this.’ She struggled to get free.

  He loosened his grip on her. ‘Sorry, Jen, this better? It’s just that I want to be with you so much. Let’s nip into the front room and cuddle on the settee.’

  ‘I’m not sure about that if you’re going to maul me about. Swear there will be no wandering hands. Don’t forget I’m under age, apart from Dad being out to get you, you could go to prison.’

  ‘I’d never do anything to hurt you, Jen, you can trust me. I promise I won’t be rough with you. You do want to cuddle up with me, don’t you? We’ve been going steady for weeks. I love you. I just want to hold you. There’s nothing wrong in that.’ He ended by sounding aggrieved.

  ‘Do you really love me, Sam?’ Jenna searched his flickering eyes.

  ‘I’ve loved you for ages. I told you how long it took me to draw up the courage to ask you to be my girl. We deserve a little time on our own without all your brothers and sisters in the way, following us around and cracking silly jokes. Please, Jen. Why do you think I’d want to hurt you?’

  That swayed her. ‘You’re right, there’s always someone about, and anyway Dad should trust us. I’ve never been flighty. I know what’s wrong and what’s right. I’d never do anything to let my parents down. Let’s spend a while being close.’

  The front room wasn’t kept just for special occasions with so many people living here, and Denny and Jean did not believe in keeping the room cold and mainly unused. To them, life was for living not for acquiring fancy things to protect behind glass or in cupboards. The fire was kept in with logs and the wind-fallen sticks that were thirteen-year-old Adrian’s job to forage. Standing in front of the second-hand upholstered long settee that was adorned with crochet throws and knitted cushions, Sam held and kissed Jenna more thoughtfully for a long time.

  He eased Jenna down and sat with her encircled in his arms. He glanced about. ‘I love this room, and it’s lovely being here with you like this.’ He kissed the top of her head.

  Feeling safe, cherished and happy now he was being gentle with her, she wriggled in closer to him, tucking her legs up on the seat. ‘Yes it is.’

  ‘I asked my father about, um, the facts of courting. I can ask him anything, we don’t get coy in our house.’

  ‘With so many children there’s not a lot of coyness here really,’ Jenna joked. ‘I’ll let you in on something. Mum’s expecting again.’

  ‘Well, there’s still plenty of room for another baby, even another set of twins.’ Sam paused, then he spoke while reddening as if his face was nearly on top of the fire. ‘Um, Dad said that if a couple want to do everything they can use a rubber thing so there’s no risk of a pregnancy. He said he didn’t know about it when he was young but he doesn’t regret having me.’

  ‘You’re not hinting at anything, are you?’ Jenna said crossly, pushing his arms away from her. He had ruined the wonderful rosy romantic atmosphere. ‘If you don’t respect me, Sam Lawry, then you had better leave this minute!’

  ‘I was only saying, Jen.’ There was hurt in his tone. ‘For goodness sake, I thought we were so close now we could discuss private matters. If you don’t trust me perhaps I should go.’

  ‘No, don’t do that. I’m sorry, it’s just that . . . forget I said anything.’

  ‘It’s all right, treasure, I understand you want to wait until we’re older, when going the last mile will be special to us both. Sorry for being an inconsiderate sod. It’s lovely just being here like this.’

  He held her in light arms for some time and Jenna was pleased, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t bring back the bliss of those first precious moments.

  Using his thumb, Sam gently rubbed behind her ear. He had forgotten his father’s advice at the outset to always start off tentatively with a girl and he had ravished poor Jenna like she was a piece of meat. Charlie had detailed the places he called the erogenous zones on a woman, the most intimate ones he had named had turned Sam’s face and neck to flames. ‘Don’t go on until she’s totally at ease and accepting what you’re doing. Remember most of all, my son, have your fun and sew your oats for many years before you settle down. Whatever you do, don’t get yourself tied down with that Vercoe girl, she’s nice enough but you don’t want to end up part of that ragbag family, breeding brats and ducking and diving for a living. Don’t forget she’s not out of the woods yet; her age. There’s a big wide world out there. Your mother and I love having you home but we’d also like to see you break out and do something with yourself.’

  It was time for another kiss. Carefully placing his hand on the side of Jenna’s face he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her long and thoroughly.

  Enjoying his kisses, Jenna responded and soon relaxed into them. Sam was caressing under her chin and she liked that. Every few seconds he stopped touching her with his moving fingertips as if signing that he was taking things at her pace and comfort. Sam put his palm lightly on her collarbone and slowly, slowly tip-fingered his hand down until it was on the swell of her breast. It gave Jenna a delicious tingly feeling and she didn’t want it to stop. She allowed Sam to slip his hand in under the neckline of her dress and over her chemise to lie fully on her breast. That was going to be his limit, she decided, but the gentle tweaking with his thumb and forefinger and massaging was utterly exquisite and she was filled with desire between her thighs.

  She had told Tilly the truth. Sam had not tried anything she didn’t want him to do. When his hands had left her bodice and travelled down and inside her underclothes she had ached and panted for him to do more. She had shifted for him when he’d hoisted up her skirt, freed himself and then after some fumbling and desperation he drove home inside her. The pain was too much for her to bear but only for a moment, and then she had striven
with him, feeling as if she was rising ever and ever towards some sort of heaven. The heaven came for her and Sam an instant after, and he’d lain on her out of breath but still making guttural noises of pleasure and she felt like a woman for having pleasured him.

  Pulling apart from her while still keeping them lying down he’d pushed down her skirt, saw to himself, then held her in his arms. ‘Oh my God, I never thought it would be as beautiful as that. You all right, Jen? Did I hurt you? You did like it? You seemed to.’

  ‘It was wonderful, Sam, because it was with you.’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d want to but you did. It’s natural, isn’t it? No wonder people do it all the time.’ He kissed her lips then lay down his head to settle his breathing.

  After a few silent moments Jenna’s mind tumbled over with other considerations. ‘We’ll have to get engaged now, on my sixteenth birthday on December first. You’ll have to ask Dad, he’s old-fashioned like that.’

  Sam was silent. She shifted to see his face. The firelight was flickering across it and suddenly he didn’t seem like the quiet Sam of old, who had taken ages to pluck up the nerve to ask her out.

  ‘You do want to get engaged, Sam?’ Worry and an edge of shame dug into her.

  ‘There’s plenty of time for that, Jen. Just because we’ve done it once don’t mean we have to do it again,’ he said. But she had not liked the way he was smiling.

  ‘You did use one of those things you mentioned?’ Her whole inner self was aflame with indignity. What did Sam really think of her now?

  ‘No I don’t have any yet; I need to go into town to a pharmacy. Didn’t think we’d go so far today. We’ve got nothing to worry about, you can’t get pregnant the first time.’

  Jenna had heard that before and her mother had declared it was an old wives’ tale. She felt sure Sam would soon get some of those ‘rubber things’. He might ask his father more advice about them. Charlie Lawry would know what they’d done. Sam had taken it for granted, because of her eagerness to have sex with him, that they’d be doing it again. Jenna had felt sick.

  She felt sick now, unable to get to sleep while Tilly and Maia slumbered peacefully in their innocence. She was due on tomorrow and was praying she actually would get away with her first, and all too willing, frisky encounter.

  Thirty-One

  ‘It’s not the same as marrying a man who will inherit a title, but at least Jack’s a well-off landowner.’ Camilla Barnicoat gazed down over her aquiline nose at the surroundings of her future son-in-law’s drawing room. ‘He’s a good catch for you, Verity – considering the circumstances. That cheap coffee is still bitter on my tongue. Could I have a sweet sherry?’

  Please . . . Why do people like you, Mother, think it’s fine not to use the manners you insist from everyone else? Verity rose in her long, sleeveless aquamarine evening dress and went to the drinks cabinet. Before lifting the sherry decanter, she made a cross face behind her mother’s back. ‘Sherry for you too, Aunt Dor? Randall Newton sent for this vintage from one of Spain’s best vineyards so this, Mother, should be pleasing even to your palate. I’m glad you approve of Jack – well, more or less.’

  While her father, who was very much like Greg in looks but shorter, minus a moustache and a pale complexion, had on arriving at Sunny Corner swept Verity off her feet, kissed her effusively and once again begged her to forgive him for cutting her off after she had ended her engagement, Camilla had air-kissed Verity and murmured, ‘Nice to see you, dear, you do look well.’

  Perkin had cleared his throat. ‘You’ve got more to say to Verity than that, Camilla.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Camilla bristled in the disapproving manner in which she had treated Verity for much of her childhood. ‘I’m sure we’re both very sorry we didn’t realize the true nature of a certain man, but I do think you could have ended with him, Verity, in a way that would have humiliated him and not us. Well, can we go inside? I’m dusty and dishevelled and feeling not a little travel sick.’

  ‘Sorry not to have taken account of your feelings, Mother,’ Verity had said, stiff with resentment.

  ‘Well, it’s in the past now and best left there.’

  Verity’s joy at finding the true love of her life and the wonderful future she was sure she would have with Jack, and her father seeking such a heart-wrenching reconciliation, were enough for her to want to leave things as they were with her snobbish, uncaring mother, otherwise she would have told Camilla to push off straight back home.

  ‘An excellent sherry,’ Camilla twittered in surprise, taking another sip and washing it round inside her mouth.

  ‘You haven’t looked round the house yet, Mother. Would you like to?’ Verity asked.

  ‘Indeed not, I’d rather wait until you and Mr Newton have made all your changes. This house gives me the shivers. Don’t you think it’s morbid taking over from a disturbed woman who killed herself here? I’m sure I would insist on living somewhere else entirely.’

  ‘You’re not Verity,’ Dorrie interjected. ‘And she knows very well what she is doing. She and Jack will have a very successful life together.’

  Camilla shrugged dismissively. ‘That is all that matters, isn’t it? Verity, with clothes still requiring ration coupons I’ve brought my wedding dress down with me, if you’d care to wear it, but don’t feel obliged to. Feel free to have it altered in any way you choose. Or make your arrangements and send your father and me the bill.’

  Verity’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Mother.’

  ‘Well.’ Camilla waved her sherry glass about. ‘I don’t feel I have the right to interfere with your new plans. You’re very close to Dorrie. As the wedding will be in the local church here, you have my blessing to arrange everything together. Just let me know your colour scheme so I don’t wear something that clashes, and what I can do towards the catering.’

  ‘Golly, Mother.’ Verity’s mouth sagged down. ‘I never thought you’d say all that. I’d be delighted to wear your wedding dress, with the odd alteration. I’ve always loved it; so much pearl and crystal detail.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not entirely a battleaxe, you know.’ Camilla smiled humorously and looked a bit less like an overdressed matron. ‘Hope you don’t mind if your father and I shoot off the day after tomorrow. We’re off to take the liner to New York for a month or two to stay with my cousin, Margery. It was our immediate plan once Perkin announced his retirement. He needs a holiday so.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind, Mummy.’ Verity slipped back into her more usual way of calling her mother.

  ‘I’ll tell Margery about your gorgeous diamond engagement ring.’

  ‘Would you mind if I went off to spend time with Daddy? Jack’s taken him and Uncle Greg to the billiards room but I don’t think they’d mind if I joined them.’

  ‘I’ll have another sherry, dear, then you may go.’

  When Verity had flitted from the room, Dorrie nodded at the sister-in-law with whom she had little in common. ‘You’ve made her seem like a little girl again. I’m so glad you’re on the best of terms once more.’

  ‘It wasn’t all mine and Perkin’s fault, the estrangement,’ Camilla said, sipping her drink as if she really needed it. ‘She should have come to us and explained how Urquart had treated her. Instead she stormed in on us when we were entertaining old Lord and Lady Mycliffe and raged about how she had told Urquart he could go to hell and that she hoped he’d dropped dead in the street. She frightened poor Lady Mycliffe and she is easily confused these days. Naturally, Perkin and I were furious with her behaviour, and after the poor old couple asked for their car to be brought round, there was the most dreadful quarrel. Things were said . . . well, as I said it’s all in the past now. Thanks for looking after her for us.’

  ‘I thought there must be some things Verity hadn’t told Greg and me. I overheard her on the telephone to Perkin saying how sorry she was too,’ Dorrie said in a satisfied voice. ‘Now we can all look forward to the futu
re.’

  ‘I didn’t mention it before – well, it was hardly important . . .’ Camilla dipped her head and Dorrie knew a gossipy titbit was forthcoming.

  ‘Oh? Do go on.’

  ‘That Sanders woman, the fast one who lives close by here, Sawle House, I’m talking about, we passed it on the way here. I came across her three or four years ago. We were at adjoining tables at the Dorchester, taking tea. She was with a major in the Guards. Well, the friends I was with told me that she was very good about entertaining officers – the previous week she had been there with an admiral. She’s much married, you know. How does she behave here? All fur coat and no knickers, I dare say. Has she given Greg the come on? Or Jack? He’s a very attractive man.’

  ‘Actually, she conducts herself in an exemplary manner,’ Dorrie answered swiftly, hoping this conversation would soon end. Jack had been one of Honoria’s casual lovers. Verity knew and understood that his philandering had been his way of easing his loneliness, but it would be horribly embarrassing if they came in now from the billiards room. ‘She’s been a brick to Nanviscoe. She put up the money to start the building of the new village hall.’

  ‘How disappointing.’ Camilla finished her sherry and went to the piano. She loved to play and sing the big band tunes. ‘I was hoping to learn a tasty morsel to take back with me and pass on after New York. Oh well, I dare say I’ll meet her properly at the wedding. It was a shock to learn a member of her family owns Petherton. Chester something, isn’t it?’

  Dorrie did not reply but piped up, ‘Do play “In The Mood”, Camilla. I so enjoy the swing music.’

  Dorrie didn’t listen to Camilla’s accomplished playing. She was trying not to shiver with the shock at what seemed confirmation to her outrageous assumption after she had burnt the sepia photo Finn had showed her of Honoria and an officer called Chester. It hadn’t taken much imagination to dismiss the C in Chester and rearrange the remaining letters into Esther. Could she possibly have been right? Surely it was preposterous, laughable. Was Esther Mitchelmore, for some reason, really a man, posing as Honoria’s sister while she was in fact Honoria’s brother Chester? There was no doubt she was a strong woman. She had nursed old Sedgewick with the strength of two nurses, and only recently she had carried Finn, a strapping youth, almost single-handedly up from the cellar. She did things in a planned regimental way, naturally dealing out orders. She was very quiet about her private life. Words of Honoria’s came to Dorrie from a wartime WVS meeting: ‘But be careful, Esther, dear.’ Everyone present there, including Dorrie, had taken the words to be sarcasm as the sisters bickered, but had it been an affectionate warning of some kind, perhaps not to give herself away? No, it was too ludicrous. The very thought that Esther Mitchelmore was actually a man called Chester was farcical . . . Or was it?