A Family Affair

by Nancy Carson

  Within the darkness of her closed eyelids she felt his lips brush her neck with soft, gentle touches. As his hands explored her, she enjoyed the shivers that ran up and down her spine.

  ‘I haven’t got any drawers on, Tom,’ she breathed into his ear and giggled.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why d’you think?’

  He snorted with laughter. ‘God, you’re incorrigible, Ramona. You mean you’ve been sitting in that theatre with me all that time with no drawers on?’ The thought excited him. ‘If I’d known…’ One thing about Ramona, she did beguile him with her unpredictability and her sexual liberality. Lesser men would become obsessed with her, would be loath to let her out of their sight because of it. He took a handful of skirt and lifted it, then slid both hands under it, relishing the warm, alluring flesh of her bare backside as he drew her to him once more.

  She closed her eyes and relished the darkness, where only the tactile senses seemed to matter. Her lips eagerly found his again while she fumbled with the buttons of his fly. She undid them and felt inside and savoured the welcoming warmth of the inside of his trousers on this cold, wet night. He was hard, ready for her. Gently, she withdrew him and guided him towards her with heady anticipation.

  The door latch rattled and they froze.

  The door opened and the glow of an oil lamp filled the brewhouse, illuminating the carrier’s face.

  It was Clover. She let out a shriek of astonishment.

  Instantly Tom turned away to hide his rudely gaping fly, and the hem of Ramona’s skirt fell about her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Clover exclaimed, her heart suddenly pounding. ‘I…I…only came to lay the fire for Zillah tomorrow…I’m so sorry.’

  She fled.

  Tom discerned Ramona’s anxious expression in the dimness.

  ‘I’d better go in,’ she said. ‘I’d better go and see her. Suddenly, I seem to have found the courage…’

  ‘No, let me, Ramona. I feel I should.’

  ‘Over my dead body, Tom. You’ll only make matters worse.’

  Ramona put her head round the door of the taproom. There was no sign of Clover. She skipped through the passage, opened the stairs door and went upstairs in the darkness. She had to talk to Clover while her courage lasted; tomorrow would be too late. There was a faint light under her door. Ramona tapped on it insistently and called her name in a hoarse whisper. Eventually Clover opened the door. By the light of her oil lamp she looked deathly white, as if she’d been frightened.

  ‘What?’ she asked curtly and sat on her bed.

  ‘Clover – I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you about Tom and me.’

  ‘Oh, why?’ she answered indignantly. ‘Did you think I didn’t know?’

  Ramona shrugged. ‘Maybe you did. I presumed you didn’t. Anyway, I came to explain. To try and spare your feelings. I don’t want you to think too badly of me.’

  ‘I think it’s a bit late for that, Ramona. Why do you think I’ve avoided you all these weeks? Or hadn’t you the sense to see? Are you so wrapped up in yourself, trying to look good in everybody’s eyes that you can’t see what’s going on around you? Is that it?’

  ‘I’m not sure what you mean, Clover,’ Ramona said defensively.

  ‘Well, it’s simple enough. I’ve known about you and Tom ever since I saw those disgusting photos he took of you. I must say you cut a fine figure. I suppose Tom thought so too.’ There was a mountain of scorn in Clover’s voice.

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Clover.’

  ‘Fancy. Nor is it now, I suppose. I suppose your skirt was all up round your waist in the brewhouse tonight to get some fresh air to your legs.’

  Ramona did not reply.

  ‘Well, let me tell you, Ramona, now you’ve given me the opportunity, that I despise you,’ she went on calmly. ‘Tom and I had our ups and downs, but we were able to sort out our problems and, I’m fairly sure, we would have enjoyed a decent marriage when the time came, if we’d been allowed to. But now you’ve taken him from me.’ Her voice began to crack. ‘I always knew you had your eye on him – right from the start – but I never thought you would stoop so low as to even try to take him. Is that what stepsisters are supposed to do?’ She tried to force back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. ‘Well, whether or no, I hope you’re pleased with yourself. I just hope you don’t live to regret it…I regret it, though…I deeply regret it, because I still love him and I suppose I’ll always love him.’ She paused, heaving a great sigh of despair as her bottom lip trembled. ‘But what’s done can’t be undone, can it, Ramona? I just hope you can live with your conscience, because I’m damned sure I never could if I were in your shoes.’ The tears would not be stemmed and she reached for the handkerchief lying on her bed.

  ‘Clover, I never intended—’

  ‘Go, Ramona…’ She wiped her eyes, her despondency becoming more absolute with each second. ‘Please go. Please leave me alone.’

  ‘But you’ve got Ned Brisco now…’

  ‘Go!’’ she screamed at the top of her voice. ‘Go, before I kill you!’

  So distressed was Tom Doubleday at being caught in a compromising position with Ramona that on the Monday he wrote to Clover. He wanted, not to justify his actions, but to try and win her back with a sincere plea to her heart. She received his letter by the first post on Tuesday morning and she read it with tears in her eyes as she walked to work.

  It read:

  Dear Clover,

  I am so sorry that you had to be embarrassed by the inappropriate behaviour of myself and Ramona last night. You are the last person in the world I would want to hurt or embarrass.

  I have no excuse, except to say that, for the time being at any rate, Ramona helps overcome the terrible feeling of emptiness now you have gone. Please believe me when I say I miss you and long for you. I do not love Ramona, nor shall I ever, though no doubt you will consider me even more of a cad for admitting it. In any case, I truly believe she does not love me either. We have never spoken of love.

  If you can see it in your heart to forgive me you will make me eternally happy. If you cannot, then I shall spend the rest of my life in misery, cursing myself for being the ultimate fool, for throwing away the best chance of happiness a man ever had.

  Clover, please reconsider. Whatever you imagined going on between Ramona and me when you found out about those photos, I give you my word I was innocent of everything except pressing the shutter on the camera. Maybe I have not been so innocent since, as I have freely admitted, but that does not mean I do not love you with all my heart and soul. Please let us take up again where we left off. Our last reconciliation made me realise how much I really do love you and how wrong I was about you. To lose you again is a blow I cannot stand.

  I wait to hear from you.

  Yours etc.,

  Tom

  Clover slipped the letter in the pocket of her skirt to read again later. She wept quietly and dabbed her eyes dry. Oh, it was gratifying to know that he still loved her and, if he was to be believed, was using Ramona like he would a poultice, but it didn’t alter her own resolve. What was done was done. Things had moved on since her discovery of the photos. She might well find it in her heart to forgive him at some time, but more recent events had changed things irrevocably. She had actually happened upon them, interrupted them in the consummation of sex, like you might happen on a dog and a bitch coupling in the street. But for Tom to involve himself with her stepsister…It was bad enough having an irreparable rift in the family already. Going back to him would only make matters worse. Oh, she loved Tom, she loved him so much it hurt, but she could not return to his arms. Not now. She needed time; more time than he would be prepared to wait. In consequence, her only wish was to fall asleep for a year or two and wake up to find that this profound ache in her heart had gone.

  Tom received no reply to his letter. Every morning for nearly two weeks he checked his post, but every morning brought him no response. He contemplated his liaison w
ith Ramona. She was all right in small doses. Of course, he was grateful for her sexual favours but that was as far as it went. They had been meeting regularly for seven weeks or so and the novelty had all but worn off. He did not invite her to his studio for love sessions as often as in the beginning. Oh, she was a personable girl, pleasant, but there was no great mental rapport between them, no magic. It concerned him that while he was tending to draw back from the relationship, she was coming on strong lately.

  They had no future together. Maybe he should end it, just in case she was developing ideas to the contrary. It was the only fair way. It would release her to find somebody else. Not that she was short of admirers. But he wanted Clover back. If he ended the affair with Ramona, maybe Clover would be more inclined to a reconciliation. It would be worth it just for the chance of being reunited with her.

  He had arranged to meet Ramona that evening, a Sunday. The air was hot and humid, typical weather for the middle of August; ideal for a stroll to Buffery Park where they could sit and talk it through rationally.

  They met at eight o’clock by the Fountain Inn on Dixons’ Green. She was dressed in a light cotton skirt in cream with a matching blouse and looked tantalising. Her fair hair was a mass of bubbly curls and her eyes were wide, yet somehow lacking that sprightly sparkle he normally associated with her. She took his arm as they walked down Bean Road, passing comments on this and that, but dwelling on no particular subject. Across the barren field to their right they could see the steeple of Top Church and Ramona commented on what a lovely church it was.

  ‘I’d have liked to have got married there,’ she said.

  ‘You might yet,’ he responded innocently and she looked at him hopefully.

  They crossed Blackacre Road and headed for the park entrance just a few yards away. Tom recalled his first evening with Clover, how they’d spent an hour in this tranquil place before attending Ned Brisco’s celebration. It did not seem so long ago but it had been a year. Ironic that that visit marked the beginning of such a bewitching romance, when tonight would mark the end of another. Well, that was the way of the world; full of ironies. They walked past hot-houses and flowerbeds and Ramona commented on how beautiful the geraniums were. Further on a group of boys were playing cricket, making the best of a sloping expanse of mown grass. Beyond them, out of sight, they found a bench and sat down.

  ‘You seem ever so quiet tonight, Tom,’ Ramona remarked. ‘Is there something on your mind?’

  He sighed. ‘As a matter of fact there is something I want to talk to you about.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she murmured apprehensively. ‘Go on, then. What d’you want to say?’

  He had rehearsed in his head exactly what he wanted to say, but now the opportunity had come he could not recall his phrasing. He hesitated, trying to reformulate his words.

  ‘Well? Were you going to ask me to marry you?’ she teased.

  He laughed self-consciously and looked into her eyes, suddenly serious. ‘No. As a matter of fact, I was going to suggest that we call it a day.’

  ‘Oh?…That’s a pity,’ she protested with a look of genuine disappointment. ‘That’s such a pity.’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t suppose it will come as any great surprise, but the truth is, Ramona, I don’t love you. Don’t get me wrong, I like you a lot and I’ve enjoyed our times together, but that’s not the same as being in love, is it? And I thought, best give you the chance to meet somebody altogether more suitable – more appreciative – and find real happiness.’ She stared at him attentively without interrupting. ‘You’re a lovely looking girl, Ramona. I’ve seen the men eyeing you up and down very covetously. You’ll have no trouble finding somebody else. But I also get the impression that you’re not in love with me either. So I doubt it will be any great hardship.’

  ‘Do you want to ditch me so’s you can start courting Clover again?’ she asked pointedly.

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t think I’ve got any chance at all of getting Clover back.’

  ‘But you would if you could?’

  He hesitated a second. ‘I suppose so…If everything could be put right between us.’

  ‘You still love her, don’t you?’

  He sat forward on the bench and nodded, his elbows on his thighs, looking at the ground. A troop of ants were industriously foraging the pathway near his feet. ‘I think I’ll always love her…It’s no reflection on you, Ramona. It’s just that…’

  ‘That you don’t love me…’

  ‘Had you been the first I’ve no doubt I would have fallen in love with you…As I said, Ramona, you’re a lovely looking girl. Many a bloke would be glad of a girl as pretty…And you’re no less pretty than Clover—’

  ‘Now you’re patronising me, Tom. Don’t!’

  He sighed, a deep, unhappy sigh. ‘The truth is, Clover has spoilt me for anybody else…But it’s not just down to looks. Looks aren’t everything, don’t you see? Looks are not the be all and end all.’

  ‘So even if Clover was ugly, you’d still love her?’

  ‘Her looks drew me to her in the first place. That’s nature’s way with a man. But inside – beyond Clover’s looks – I see somebody even more lovely…That’s the person I love.’

  ‘So, you’d like to be rid of me to pursue Clover again? That’s the top and bottom of it, isn’t it?’

  ‘I can’t pursue Clover, as you put it, while I’m still seeing you – while we’re still lying together.’

  ‘I see…Well, at least that’s noble. Nobler than some people I know…So, if we split up, you and me, and you succeed in getting Clover back, how d’you think I’d respond to that?’

  ‘With dignity, I hope. With grace. With understanding. I’d like you both to be friends again, if you can find it in your hearts. If I know Clover—’

  She uttered a derisory little laugh.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh…While you’re stepping out with Clover I’m just wondering how dignified I can be with a big lump on my belly…Come to think of it, I wonder how dignified she would be about it. How gracious. How understanding…’

  He looked at her, perplexed. ‘What do you mean, Ramona, a big lump on your belly?’

  ‘I would have thought it obvious, Tom.’

  ‘Well, it’s not quite obvious to me.’ A deep shadow of alarm darkened his eyes. ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not suggesting anything, Tom…I am telling you, though, that I’m pregnant…’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Astounded, he put his head in his hands. ‘Jesus Christ!’

  They fell silent. Preoccupied with this disastrous news, Tom watched the ants at work; they were scurrying about darting in and out of cracks in the tarmacadam pathway, carrying fragments of leaves and other debris many times bigger than themselves. Winged ants emerged from small holes near the edge, an increasing number, struggling to make use of their wings, then flying off to God alone knew where. What fate awaited those flying ants? Did time and events play the same malicious tricks on them as it had on him? Did it make an absurdity of all their hopes, their dreams, like it did with his? But what could he do about it? Ignore it and hope she would miscarry? No, that was not quite his style. His conscience would not allow him that luxury.

  Ramona was watching him, witnessing the turmoil he was suddenly plunged into.

  ‘It’s cruel, I know, how life never gives us exactly what we want…isn’t it, Tom?’

  ‘God! Are you reading my mind?’ he breathed, looking up at her, his eyes drawn.

  ‘After what you’ve just told me, it’s not difficult.’

  ‘No, I suppose not…Well, that’s pissed on the chips good and proper, hasn’t it? If you’ll pardon my French…Damn! Damn and sodding blast!’

  She shrugged as he looked at her again. ‘Well, Tom, you’re an equal partner in this. It’s not just my doing.’

  ‘And you’re absolutely certain about it?’

  ‘Oh, I’m certain all right. I’ve bee
n sick every morning for best part of a month, my breasts are fuller – I’m surprised you haven’t noticed – they’re tender, my stomach’s as hard as a rock now and my waist has started to disappear already. Do I need more proof?’

  ‘I take it you’ve missed your monthly bleeding?’

  ‘Oh, and my monthly bleeding! Twice I’ve missed. Sorry, I forgot to mention that.’

  In his frustration, he stamped his foot on a selection of ants, squashing them, then looked into Ramona’s eyes again.

  ‘Damn it all, I’ll not see a child of mine fatherless, whether or no. If this is what fate’s thrown at us, we can make a go of it…We’ll have to. We’ll just have to knuckle down, make the best of it. With the right attitude of mind, we can be as happy as anybody else. Especially with our own child to bind us together…I’ll marry you, Ramona.’

  Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. ‘Thank you, Tom. And God bless you. But you’ll have to cast Clover from your mind.’

  ‘That’s going to be the hardest part, Ramona. But I’ll do the best I can. At least you understand.’

  Chapter 20

  Tom Doubleday accepted his fate with resignation. He was to acquire a pretty wife; not the pretty wife he wanted, but a likeable enough girl. It had never crossed his mind that he would make Ramona pregnant; he had always been so conscientious about withdrawing just before the critical moment. But folk did say that the stuff seeped out before you even got to the agony strokes. Just his luck for that to have happened. Still, he was responsible and he must face the consequences. He would have given anything for it not to have been Ramona; he knew the strife it would cause within the Tandy household, not least between her and Clover, but Jake Tandy too would be singularly unimpressed.