A Long Road Through The Night

by Rosemary Hodgson

  Buy a few bottles of wine and consume them together? That won`t do either – it`ll look as if I need to be blind-drunk to sleep with him. Flutter her eyelashes, and act-all "Come with me to the Casbah?" This gets sillier by the minute, she scolded herself – can`t I think of anything sensible?

  As she pondered over the question during the next few days, her sleep-patterns were once more disturbed by the hideously erotic dreams that had tormented her in the immediate aftermath of Tom`s death, but this time with Raymond Hood as her partner, an off-putting thought. Would he want things like that?-- I don`t know if I could bring myself to do it -- the only way to sort this out would be to let him make love to me, and see how it goes. That would be fairer to him, she concluded – he`ll have the chance to break-up with me if what I`m willing to give him isn`t enough. The thought that he might choose that option was terrifying, but entering into a marriage that might not last would be far more devastating for both of them.

  She decided to set the scene by making a special meal for him, preferably at her flat. Nervous enough already, she would feel more self-assured on familiar ground. It would need careful planning, however. What would be suitable as a prelude to a night of lovemaking? Oysters? Out of the question – they were too overtly suggestive, and in any case she could never bring herself to swallow one. Similarly, offering champagne would make the occasion seem stage-managed rather than spontaneous.

  The chosen dishes must not be too heavy either. A surfeit of stodge might cause two people in their fifties to drift off to sleep before anything had the chance to happen. In the end she settled for the chicken-casserole recipe she had used for their first meal, with a simple fruit salad to follow.

  Setting the scene with lace tablecloth and candles was easy, but would the effort be worth it? No longer in her first youth, she would inevitably look less appealing when naked than she had done as a young bride. Ray too would have aged since his first romance, but the years tended to be kinder to men, appearance-wise.

  Of particular concern were the unsightly stretch-marks childbearing had left her with. Would Ray feel disappointed that she was not perfect? Perhaps she should remain covered-up for as long as possible – I could keep my nightdress on till we`re in bed with the light out – or if I ask him to get undressed first, he mightn`t notice till it`s too late to change his mind. That sounded devious and crafty, but would be better than seeing the shocked expression on his face at the sight of the ravages wrought by her three pregnancies -- if he really loves me, he shouldn`t mind, but that`s not the point – I mind.

  She awaited his coming on the chosen evening, torn between the need to find out whether they had a future together, and an equal longing to hide behind the sofa and pretend she was out. But it was too late to back out now.

  As usual he was on time, bearing a bottle of wine and – more surprisingly – a bunch of roses. Was he somehow aware that the evening was special, more than just a casual meal? She hoped so, for it would smooth the way for things to develop later.

  But annoyingly, as she began to dish up, his mobile-phone rang. The caller was his sister-in-law Audrey, inviting him to tea on Tuesday. Fancy leaving that thing switched-on! – he might`ve turned it off when he was eating-out, Sylvia thought aggrievedly.

  Raymond apologised as soon as the call ended. `I left the phone on while I drove here, in case there was a message from the Area Manager, and I forgot to turn it off.` He sounded so contrite that she forgave him. Hopefully there would be no more interruptions - she felt nervous enough already.

  He looked pleased as she dished-up. `Oh, great! It`s that chicken-thing you made the first time I came, isn`t it?`

  `Yes. It`s a good job you`ve eaten here more than once, or you`d probably start wondering if I can make anything else fit to eat.`

  `I know better than that.` He broke-off speaking, at the sound of a loud knocking on the outer door, and an upraised voice. `Mrs. Brandon! Are you there, hinny?`

  `Yeah,` Sylvia shouted back, pulling a face as she explained to Ray. `It`s old Mr. Higgins from downstairs.`

  `Phone for you,` the unwanted visitor shouted, and Ray looked surprised.

  `How come he gets your phone-calls?`

  `It`s a payphone in the hallway, and he`s nearest, to answer it.`

  `But you`ve just dished-up, love. Your meal`ll be ruined. Couldn`t you ask him to say you`ll ring them back later?

  `I don`t like to. He walks badly, and he`s struggled all the way up these stairs to tell me. I`ll be as quick as I can.`

  Will we ever get this meal started? she wondered as she ran downstairs, to discover that the caller was Jenny, wanting to know when the painting-class would be re-opening. `I`ve got the date somewhere, but can I call you back later? I`ve got company, and we`re just sitting down to eat.` She hoped she did not sound too curt, but the planned perfect evening was in danger of being ruined.

  On return to her flat, she was pleased to see that Raymond had continued dishing-up in her absence -- he didn`t expect to be waited on hand-and-foot, then. As they ate, they made small-talk. She asked whether Audrey`s granddaughter had recovered from her illness. He confirmed that the child was much better, and enquired after the welfare of Patty and Delia, who were also in the best of health. Hardly sparkling conversation, but confirmation of their shared interest in matters of home and family. That like-mindedness should make a good foundation for a future together, Sylvia told herself.

  About halfway through the meal, they were startled out of their relaxed mood by yet another bang on the door. `Yoo-hoo, Sylv. It`s only me.`

  She could not avoid answering this summons. Twice Miranda had saved her life, and did not deserve to be ignored, or abruptly dismissed. `What`s up?.

  `Have you got a drop-milk to spare?` Jug in hand, Miranda stepped through the door. `I was ganna make a coffee before I gan to work. . oh!` Her eyes registered Raymond`s presence, and the half-eaten meal. `Eeh, I`m sorry! I didn`t know you had company.`

  `Take the whole bottle.` Sylvia thrust it at her without ceremony, anxious to send her on her way again.

  Fortunately Miranda`s racy lifestyle enabled her to recognise a hint when it was given. `Ta, Sylv, yer a Christian! I`ll give you it back the-morrow.`

  Though Raymond had eaten his share of the meal prepared with such care, hers was by now practically cold, and she abandoned the attempt to finish it. `Can I get you some fruit salad?`

  `Please.` But unbelievably, as they began to eat, the evening quiet was split by the howling of a car-alarm in the yard below, bringing him to his feet. `Oh God! It`s mine. I`ll have to run down and turn it off, or we`ll have your neighbours bricking my windscreen.` As he clattered down the stairs, Sylvia sank her face into her hands despairingly – what`s going on? Quiet night of love? -- we would`ve got more peace in the middle of the Central Station.

  The appalling din ceased abruptly, and Raymond returned, once more full of apologies. `Car-alarms, mobiles! You`ll be starting to think I`m doing this on purpose.`

  With the carefully-planned evening rapidly descending into farce, she could not entirely hide her disappointment. `I know it`s not your fault, but we`ve had nothing but interruptions, and I wanted tonight to be special for you, like New Year`s Eve was for me.`

  `It is special, because I`m with you.` Reaching across the table, he took her hand and stroked the backs of her fingers. `You know how much you mean to me, don`t you?`

  `You`re everything to me as well, Ray.` As if he understood the deeper meaning behind her words, he rose to his feet and led her towards the sofa bathed in comforting lamplight , sat down and drew her into his arms. In the warmth of that embrace she felt herself relaxing again – this is how it should be – it feels right.

  `Sylvia?` he said softly, as if afraid to break the spell, caressing her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. `I told you I would wait, and I meant it, but when you said you`d planned for this to be a special evening, I couldn`t help wondering . . .` Hesitating briefly, he took the plunge. `Is
today that Right-Time we talked about?`

  `Yes. This is the right time.` Too full of emotion to speak, they clung together joyously. Still holding her, he drew her to her feet and began to lead her towards the bed. At that interesting moment, yet another knock on the door interrupted their fraught evening.

  `For God`s sake! What now? Are we ever going to get five minutes` peace! This one`s going to get a mouthful!` Sylvia exclaimed, striding over to answer the door.

  `Mrs. Brandon?` the total stranger enquired, smiling brightly. `You offered to donate to the church fund-raising sale, and we`ve called to collect your kind contribution.` On the brink of hurling abuse at him, she bit back the words hastily, warned by a glimpse of dog-collar at the neck of his jacket – Typical! -- it`s taken me all this time to get up the nerve to go to bed with Ray, and we get interrupted by the Vicar!

  `It`s all here.` If the reply sounded ungracious, Sylvia was past caring as she pointed out the four boxes containing Tom`s books, and two bags of her own unwanted possessions.

  The vicar was impressed. `My word! What a lot! I`ll need some help with this, or I`ll be coming-and-going all night.` He leaned over the bend at the end of the verandah, to shout down to the street. `Sybil! Can you ask Clive to give me a hand with these, please?`

  Sylvia kept tight-lipped vigil by the door while the two men trotted up and down the stairs until all the donations were gone. The vicar, however, had not done yet. `Thank you very much, Mrs. Brandon. Will you be coming to the sale yourself?`

  `I don`t know.` With barely enough patience to frame the answer, she wished he would go away.

  `There`ll be some wonderful bargains. People have been very generous.` Mindful of his pastoral duties, the vicar risked one more enquiry. `Have you ever been to Divine Service at the church?`

  `No.` Would he never leave?

  `Perhaps we can look forward to seeing you there one of these days?`

  `Maybe. I don`t know.` Something in her demeanour must have made her visitor aware that he had worn out his welcome, and he took his leave with a cheery wave of the hand. Sylvia slammed the door and returned to her guest who must, by now, be heartily sick of the evening that should have sealed their love.

  She flopped on the bed beside him, sighing deeply. `This – is – ridiculous! I`d planned for this to be such a perfect time, just you and me, and there`s been more gone-on here tonight than in the whole of the last three months. Why have they all picked now to keep butting-in?` As their eyes met, the funny side of the situation struck them simultaneously, and they found themselves howling with laughter.

  `There`s only one thing for it,` Raymond said, brushing away tears of mirth. `Let`s put all the lights off, and pretend we`re not in.` The idea was pure lunacy but, driven to desperation, she allowed him to switch off the ceiling pendant and table-lamp, leaving only the bedside-light. While he searched for and found the switches, she undressed and slid under the covers. Fate had allowed her the time she needed to prevent his seeing the stretch-marks.

  As he began to strip off his clothes, she watched him through half-closed eyes. Like herself, he was past the first bloom of youth and running slightly to fat around the middle. But his shoulders looked fairly muscular and his thighs strong. As he did not turn round, she was not able to catch a glimpse of what her grandfather would have called his Wedding Tackle – could it be that he too was embarrassed about his physique? The thought amused her.

  Naked at last, he switched off the bedside lamp before sliding under the sheet to settle beside her. The darkness was peaceful, the weight of his am round her shoulders comforting. If only they could just be together like this, with no more silly interruptions, things might still be all right.

  Apparently thinking along the same lines, Ray turned her face towards him with a sigh of satisfaction. `Alone at last . . . I hope and trust.`

  Sylvia suppressed a giggle with difficulty. `With our luck, any minute now, Santa Claus`ll come shinning down the chimney, wanting my advance-list for next Christmas.`

  `If I see so much as the toe-end of one welly-boot, I`ll board that chimney up,` Ray threatened foolishly, holding her closer. As they kissed again and again, both knew that the time for laughter was over. Filled with overpowering desire, they fondled each other more intimately, their pleasure in each other completely obliterating memories of how badly the evening had begun, so that in the end, the moment Sylvia had dreaded was easy. Though strong and demanding, Raymond was no pervert, and Sylvia – to her surprise – did not feel inhibited.

  Afterwards, as they lay calmly together in the quiet afterglow of subsiding passion, she placed her hand over his as it rested on her bare breast. `Was it all right?`

  `It was more than All Right` He brushed his lips against her ear, sighing contentedly.

  Smiling, she ran her fingers through his sweat-damp hair. `And to think I was worried about how it would be!`

  `So was I,` he admitted, `but something about you tonight seemed to say you were ready.`

  `How could you tell?`

  `I think it was when you said you wished you could make it like New Year`s Eve all over again. That was the night we talked about whether this might ever happen.`

  `Yes,` she recalled,` but that time, I asked you to wait.`

  `You were worth waiting for.` He traced the outline of her face with one finger, before kissing her gently on the brow. Then, reaching out to turn on the bedside light, he placed his finger beneath her chin, tilting her face towards his. `What exactly have we done tonight, Sylv? Was this just physical attraction, or are we starting to make a life together?`

  `I think it`s a new beginning. It is for me, anyway.` Was that admission too shameless? No, she thought – I`ve got to stop feeling guilty about Tom -- it`s time to start moving forward.

  `Then let it be a whole new beginning,` Ray urged. `Move in with me at Gosforth.`

  The house that had once reminded her so poignantly of the museum-flat held no terrors for her now. `Yes. I`d like to do that. When?`

  `As soon as you like. Tonight, if you want.`

  Laughing, she demurred. `It`s not just the matter of a nightie and a toothbrush. Take a look round you. I`m not filling your lovely house with all this rubbish. And I`ll have to hand in my notice at the paper-shop, and let Social Services know I`m giving up the flat. But once I`ve got all that sorted, I`ll move in with you, I promise.`

  He pressed his lips against her fingers, sending a thrill through her. `It can`t come too soon for me.` Glancing at the clock which showed almost midnight, he grinned at her. `Dammit! I`ve missed my last bus home.`

  `You can sleep on my settee, if you like,` she quipped, `but there`s got to be no hanky-panky, mind. I`m a good girl, I am, sir.`

  `Settee!` he sniggered, ruffling her hair. `Thanks very much. I can hardly wait.` He hesitated for a moment, before asking, `I know it sounds a bit of an anti-climax, but I could murder a cuppa. Do you fancy one?`

  `Please, but would you mind making it?` On the brink of flinging back the covers, she had remembered why she did not want to get up first.

  He got out of bed at once, but something in her voice must have set him thinking, for he looked down directly at her. `What`s the matter, love?`

  Once more she felt ashamed of her appearance. `I can`t face you seeing me with nothing on.`

  `Why on earth not? We`ve been as close to each other as anybody can get, surely, so what`s so terrible?`

  `Through having the girls, I`ve got stretch-marks, and they look absolutely awful.`

  `So what? If you were a sixteen-year-old, pretending to be a virgin, it might come as a bit of a shock, but for a woman who`s had kids, they`re not uncommon.`

  `But these look like something out of the Chamber of Horrors. I daren`t for my life wear a bikini. I`d get laughed off the sands.`

  `I promise faithfully, I`ll never ask you to wear a bikini, on the sands or anywhere else. What`s below the waistline will be just between you and me,` he reassured her. `Why not let me look now, and get
it over and done with.`

  Self-conscious, she closed her eyes, pushed the sheet back and lay tensely waiting for some reaction from him. What she had not expected was the feeling of his lips brushing against each of the scars in turn – the most tender of caresses, with no suggestion whatever of revulsion. She nerved herself to look at him as he raised his head. `Well? Aren`t they horrible?`

  `They are not,` he countered. `Anyway, as you said, you got them through becoming a mother. Couldn`t you try and think of them as honourable battle-scars?`

  `Battle-scars? If I won, I`d hate to see the losers!` she retorted, marvelling at his unblinking reaction to the blemishes -- I don`t think I could`ve kept as-calm if I had found out he had a wooden leg. The picture in her mind was so ludicrous that she began to laugh, and he laughed with her, probably without knowing why, simply glad to see her happy again.

  `It`s been wonderful, Sylvia. If only you knew how much I`ve longed for this day to come.`

  `So have I.` She could admit it now, the fear faced and defeated. Though she might always feel guilty for putting Tom behind her before a year had passed, she would never again mention it to Raymond. They must look to the future now.

  NINETEEN

  On the following morning, Sylvia gave notice of her intention to give up working at the paper-shop. Mrs. Marshall, disappointed at losing a good assistant, pressed her to reconsider. `I know the early starts are a nuisance, but are you sure you want to leave? You`re good at the job, and you`re the first one I`ve had in ages that can reckon-up in your head if the till goes-down.`

  `I`m ever so sorry to be leaving, but I`m moving out of the district, so I won`t be near enough to get here so early in the morning.` She would miss the shop and its customers, but not sufficiently to change her mind about moving in with Ray.

  In the afternoon, she began sorting through her remaining possessions. Some things she would keep, but it was high-time to be rid of unwanted reminders of her past. One of the first was the book Delia had so much wanted to borrow. Taking it out of the carrier-bag, she attempted to balance it on the edge of the coffee-table alongside the tray on which she had carried lunch to the fireside to eat.