It was the first time she had let any man hold her since her husband died three years before, and his firm boyish body was so different from Tom’s that she felt no shame when his hand found her breast. The almost-forgotten pleasure of being gently caressed was so great that she didn’t want him to stop, although a cushion, rumpled into a hard lump, was digging into the small of her back. The fondling became less gentle and her breathing had quickened with delight when his hands delved downwards. ‘No, Dennis,’ she said, sharply.
‘Oh, come on, Beth,’ he coaxed. ‘It’s not as though you’re an innocent young girl.’
Pushing him away, she sat up, still trembling. ‘I’m not innocent and I’m not young, but I’m not an easy mark.’
‘Oh, God, I’m sorry, Beth. I couldn’t help myself, but I promise I won’t do anything like that again.’
Feeling as she did about him, she did not stop him when he kissed her and slid his arms round her once more. She was almost certain that he was only amusing himself with her and would probably stop seeing her if she refused him too often, but she wasn’t going to give in to him just yet.
Hopefully, Dennis said, ‘I’m not tied to hotel rules now I’m living out, so I can stay with you as long as I want, all night sometimes, if you let me.’
Beth felt a momentary pang of pity for the young girl who had given Dennis a home – and probably her virginity – only a momentary pang, because it was so good to have him back.
It had all turned out perfectly, Dennis gloated, as he made his way back to Marischal Street. Hoodwinking Katie had been the first thing, and it had been easier than he expected. He had held back until he was certain she was well and truly hooked and would believe any lie he gave if he stayed out late, and then, in bed last night, he had said, casually, ‘I ran into some of my old pals on the way home. I used to go for a drink with them at one time, and we’d have a game of dominoes or darts to pass the odd hour or two, but I dropped them for you.’
‘You shouldn’t have dropped your friends,’ she said.
He hadn’t understood why her voice was so flat – he still couldn’t – but he had gone on with his plan. ‘You wouldn’t mind if I started seeing them again?’
‘Please yourself, Dennis.’
Her lack of interest rankled even yet. She shouldn’t take it out on him if Sammy had done something to annoy her. As long as they didn’t involve him in their quarrels, he didn’t care what they got up to when he wasn’t there.
His ego had been even more bruised when she turned away from him when he tried to kiss her. She’d been lukewarm with him ever since the night Sammy had burst in and caught them … no, he was wrong. She’d been all over him the next night, clinging to him as though she couldn’t get enough, pleading with him not to stop; not that he’d needed much coaxing, for he’d been as randy as she was. He’d had high expectations when they went to bed the following night, and that was when she refused him first. She had actually shuddered when he put his hand on her, as if she couldn’t bear him to touch her, so the sooner he got away from her the better.
He’d been doubtful about how Beth would receive him after his long absence, but he needn’t have worried. She had been stroppy at first, which was only natural, but it only took a ladleful of flattery and a few ardent kisses and caresses to bring her almost to boiling point. Another hour or two like that and she’d be putty in his hands. She’d likely end up begging him to go and live with her, and then it would just be a matter of time before she started giving him the odd backhander to keep him there.
Visions of his rosy future were pushed aside when he came to the pend. He would have to stop on with Katie till Beth came up trumps, much as he hated the idea of sleeping with a girl whose hot blood had turned to ice for no reason. Still, it wouldn’t be for long, and the end result would be worth any sacrifice.
Katie hadn’t been sure at first, but after missing a second time, she couldn’t go on fooling herself. She was definitely in the family way, and she meant to tell Dennis tonight when he came home from the pub, though he’d been staying out late an awful lot lately. She wasn’t sure how he would take it, for he often said he didn’t believe in marriage, but surely, with a baby coming, he would change his mind. He couldn’t be so heartless as to leave her to bring it up on her own?
Sick at the thought, Katie wondered miserably if his love for her had cooled off. She had blamed the drink for his lack of interest, but maybe it wasn’t the drink. Maybe he was tired of her, and who could blame him when she stopped any advances he did make? Maybe he wanted to finish with her and telling him about the baby would make him leave her all the sooner? She still loved him, though, and didn’t want to lose him, so it might be best to wait until she was showing before she said anything. That would give her a few more months with him, and even if he did walk out on her when she told him, she would have his child to ease her heartache.
His child. She had often heard the Cullen wives saying they could pinpoint the exact time their men had put a bun in the oven. She hadn’t understood at the time, but now she did. It had happened about six weeks ago, and the glory of her mating with Dennis had exceeded all other times; he had said it was the best night they’d ever had. She could recall how she had clung to him, her emotions so raw that all she could think of was getting rid of the feel of Sammy inside her body.
She jerked up, aghast. Sammy had raped her earlier that same day! His seed had been inside her before Dennis’s! Oh, dear God, it wasn’t Dennis’s child she was carrying, it was Sammy’s!
Chapter Thirteen
On her next day off, demented by the thought of having an imbecile child, Katie decided to ask advice from the only person she would dare to tell. Lottie wouldn’t breathe a word of it to anybody else.
The shop was busy with women snapping up the loaves and rolls Bob McRuvie put through still hot from the bake-house, and Katie beckoned Lottie to the end of the counter. ‘Could I have a private word with you?’
The baker’s wife smiled. ‘There’s no chance of privacy here, but I suppose I could leave Kirsty on her own for a wee while after the rush is past. Say … the back of two?’
It was ten past two when she arrived. ‘Now, what’s up with you?’ she asked, as soon as she sat down. ‘I could see there was something. Has that Dennis been ill-using you?’
‘It’s nothing to do with Dennis.’
‘Has Sammy been getting into trouble at the Salutation?’
‘It’s worse than that, Lottie. I’m … I’m expecting.’
‘I some thought that would happen. Well, you’ll just have to tell Dennis he’ll have to marry you. Hang on, though! You said it had nothing to do with him.’ Lottie’s round, cheery face darkened, her eyes filled with horrified suspicion. ‘It’s not Sammy’s, is it? My God, Katie, surely you didn’t let him … ?’
‘I didn’t let him, I couldn’t stop him.’ Tears were edging down Katie’s cheeks now.
‘Don’t upset yourself, lass. How are you so sure it’s his? You’ve been sleeping with Dennis for a good while now.’
Unlike Katie’s neighbours, mostly devout members of one religious denomination or another, who had treated her like dirt because she was living in sin with Dennis, Lottie had never condemned her, so she told her everything.
After hearing the sequence of events on that fateful night and morning, the baker’s wife screwed up her nose. ‘Aye, I see your trouble. You’re not sure whose bairn it is?’
‘I’m nearly sure it’s Sammy’s,’ Katie sobbed. ‘Oh, Lottie, what am I going to do?’
‘You could tell Dennis it was his. He’d never know.’
‘He would if the baby wasn’t right in the head.’
‘Aye, maybe it’s not worth chancing it. Well, there’s only one thing for it … you’ll have to get rid of it.’
‘Could I do that?’ Katie’s face held a hint of hope.
‘Lord bless you, lassie, of course you could, but mind, it depends … how far on are you?’
‘Six weeks, not any more.’
‘Aye, well, that’ll not be so hard to shift. A double dose of castor oil or liquid paraffin should do the trick.’
‘You think so?’
‘Well, it might, and then again, maybe no, but we’ll keep trying, lass.’ Standing up, Lottie gave a low chuckle. ‘I’d better get back, but I was thinking, it’s a good thing I’m not one of them Brethrens or Catholics, for this would be against their beliefs, but me? I look at it this road. The Lord made a mistake when he gave Sammy a boy’s brain and a man’s needs, so it’s up to us to sort out the consequences.’ Laughing loudly, she went out.
Katie did not feel like laughing, but she did feel a lot better, and lifting her purse, she ran along to the chemist for a big bottle of castor oil. Back inside, she forced down two large tablespoonsful, gagging over the thick, cloying liquid, but determined to make it stay down.
That evening, unfortunately for the poor girl, was one on which Dennis did not ‘go out with his mates’, and she was ashamed at having to grab the torch and go to the lavatory so often. The purgative was giving her pains so severe that it was all she could do to stop herself from doubling up in agony, yet there was no sign that the remedy had worked.
Dennis frowned when she trailed back in after her fourth visit in twenty-five minutes. ‘What’s up with you?’
‘I’ve got diarrhoea.’
‘Keep away from me, then, in case it’s catching.’
At bedtime, she lay down on the couch, not undressing because she knew she would be kept on the move, but around three in the morning, when the effects of the castor oil wore off, she finally managed to get some sleep.
She was still awake first, and had the kettle boiling when Sammy came through to shave the whiskers which had started to sprout on his upper lip. He had been very proud when he first noticed them, and even prouder when she bought him a razor. After lathering his face with soap, he turned to her. ‘Shaving means I’m a man, doesn’t it, Katie?’
She nodded sadly. She had no doubts about him being a man – she had living proof of it inside her.
When Dennis came through, he asked, ‘How’s the belly?’
She wondered what he would say if she told him what was really wrong with her belly. ‘It’s a lot better now.’
‘I’ll not be home till late tonight. We’re playing another pub at dominoes.’
‘That’s good.’ It was good, Katie thought, because it meant she could take some more medicine in the afternoon, and he wouldn’t be here to see her tearing outside every few minutes in the evening.
On her way home, after eight, she went to the McRuvies’ house door – the shop was closed – to tell Lottie that the castor oil had failed in its intended purpose. ‘I took some more at half past four,’ she added, ‘so I’ll keep my fingers crossed that it works.’
Looking at the girl’s wan face and drawn cheeks, Lottie said, ‘You know, I was right angry at Sammy at first, but now I’ve had time to think … it’s Dennis I blame. He should have stopped when Sammy came into your bedroom.’
Katie heaved a despondent sigh. ‘It’s too late to worry about whose fault it was. I’d better go though, or Sammy’ll be wondering why I’m late.’
Beth having sent him away because she was not feeling well, Dennis was in a vile humour when he arrived home, scowling when Katie said, ‘Why are you in so early?’
‘The dominoes were off. One of our team was ill.’
Fired by the whisky he had drunk on his way home, he pulled Katie down on the couch, and despite her struggles of embarrassment because of Sammy’s presence, his kisses grew more and more passionate until he opened her blouse buttons and slid his hand inside.
‘I’ve seen them.’
At Sammy’s announcement, Dennis whipped round in surprise. ‘What d’you mean? What have you seen?’
Sammy’s smirk held deep self-satisfaction. ‘Katie’s tits.’
Furious now, Dennis turned back to her. ‘You surely to God didn’t let him … ?’
Fastening her blouse with fumbling fingers, she said, ‘I didn’t … oh, Sammy, please don’t say any more.’
‘There’s more, is there? Go on, Sammy, tell me.’
Delighted at annoying Dennis, Sammy went on jubilantly, ‘I kissed the pink bits that stick out.’
‘Stop it, Sammy,’ Katie pleaded, but Dennis put his hand over her mouth. ‘Go on, Sammy,’ he repeated, harshly.
The heady exhilaration of boasting was too much for Sammy. ‘My thing got great big and I knew where it had to go, so I put her on my bed, and oh, it was good! I felt like I was going to burst, and I did burst! Is that what happens when you do it, Dennis?’
It was a moment before the full impact of what Sammy was saying struck Dennis, then he roared, ‘Great God Almighty, Katie! You let this damned idiot … ? I don’t know how could you let him near you!’
She tried to keep her panic under control. ‘It was the morning after he saw us … he wanted to kiss me, and I thought it would stop him being so jealous of you … and I couldn’t find my nightie so I’d nothing on under my wrapper and he took it off … and I let him …’ Her voice broke now, and the rest came tumbling out between hysterical sobs. ‘I thought he’d be happy just doing that, but he got all worked up and I couldn’t stop him.’
His face livid, Dennis yelled, ‘You let him kiss your tits and you were surprised you couldn’t stop him? Christ, Katie, you were asking for it! Were you comparing him with me? Is that what you’ve been up to? I knew something was going on, but I never thought you’d sunk as low as that – with your brother!’
‘No, Dennis,’ Katie wailed, ‘it was only once.’
‘He’d never have stopped at once.’
She clutched his sleeve. ‘It’s the truth, Dennis!’
Jerking his arm away, he snarled, ‘You’re a bloody liar! You’ve been at it for weeks. I should have known that was why you wouldn’t let me … does he satisfy you better?’
His open hand hit her across the mouth, and at that Sammy gave a menacing growl and lumbered to his feet, his fists flailing, but being more agile, Dennis dodged to avoid being hit and made for the door.
Trying to restrain Sammy, Katie cried, ‘Dennis! Where are you going?’
‘To a woman that wouldn’t let the likes of him come within a mile of her.’ He fled as Sammy broke free.
As the door slammed, Sammy looked at Katie uncertainly and tried to put his arms round her, but she screamed, ‘Don’t you dare touch me! It’s all your fault!’ Sinking down on the couch, she burst into another flood of tears, and he stood for a moment, his face showing the pain her accusation was causing him. Then he turned slowly and went into his room, and Katie could hear his sobs over the sound of her own.
In only a few minutes, she had to grab the torch and fly out to the lavatory, noticing, even in her haste, that there was no sign of Dennis in the pend. He really had gone, and he likely wouldn’t come back.
The castor oil continued its work several times over the next half hour, and her insides were so sore from the many purgings that she wished she could die. Suddenly, she began to recognize a different pain, a pain which started lower down and increased in strength until, at last, something slipped out between her legs. Standing up, she shone the torch down the pot, and saw – nestling among the watery mucus which was all that was coming from her bowels now – what looked like a lump of liver, but she knew that at its core was the tiny foetus that would have developed into a baby – Sammy’s baby.
She felt a lightness inside her, as if all her internal organs had been removed, not just the unwelcome inhabitant of her womb, then she was gripped by guilt and hesitated before flushing it away, but the deed was done and she could do nothing to undo it even if she wanted to.
There was no sound from Sammy’s room when she went in, and she went to bed wondering if the abortion had actually been the result of the castor oil or of her shock at what had happened. Then, recalling what Lot
tie had said, she was sure that God had used Sammy himself as the instrument to undo the consequence of His mistake in the young man’s physical make-up – but why hadn’t He taken into account the effect Sammy’s revelation would have on Dennis?
Chapter Fourteen
’I keep thinking about Katie,’ William John said, somewhat cautiously, for his wife had a habit of changing the subject when he mentioned their grand-daughter. ‘It’s two and a half years come Monday since she was here.’
Mary Ann compressed her toothless mouth and gave just the suggestion of a nod. ‘Aye, October 1922.’
Her precision should have surprised him. but it failed to register. ‘I’m awful worried about her.’
‘What is there to worry about? She ran off wi’ the laddie Gunn.’
‘So Johnny Martin said, but maybe it was the laddie that forced her. She said he was simple, mind? For all we ken, he could’ve killed her and hidden her body somewhere.’
The blood drained from his wife’s face. ‘You surely dinna think that’s why we havena heard from her?’
‘I’m nae saying it is, I’m only saying it could be. Katie wouldna have bidden away as long as this without letting us ken where she was – nae if she was still alive.’
Each seeking reassurance from the other, the elderly man and woman stared at each other for a few moments, then he said, decisively, ‘No, no! We’re imagining things, and we’d better nae let other folk hear us saying things like that, or they’d have us locked up in an asylum.’
The clock ticked away the long minutes of silence, then he burst out, ‘I still canna understand it. Lizzie Baxter wasna the kind o’ lassie to leave her bairnie like that.’
‘What I canna understand is our William John letting her. It was his bairn, and all.’
Her husband felt driven to make one thing clear. ‘William John wasna as good a laddie as you thought. Maybe he didna like being tied down wi’ an infant? He could’ve made Lizzie leave her here – maybe it was him that left her.’
The Three Kings Page 15
