Ma, I've Reached for the Moon an I'm Hittin the Stars

by Martha Long

  Ralph turned to me nodding and saying, ‘Your coat, darling.’

  I turned and there he was, the waiter, waiting and bowing. ‘Madame!’ he said, giving a little wave, with my fur coat hanging in his white gloved hands, ready to drop it on my shoulders and allow Ralph to take over the business of getting me well settled inside it. Then Ralph’s coat was produced. A long, black cashmere one that buttoned up to the collar with an extra flap down the length of the coat, hiding the buttons.

  Then Ralph nodded, and the waiter bowed again then stepped aside as we went past. Ralph was standing back to allow me to start walking, then he put his hand lightly on my elbow, guiding me towards the door, where another fellow, this time the doorman, saluted to Ralph, gave a little bow to me, and the door was whipped open.

  The French air hit me straight away. I could get the smell of sulphur in the humid, damp night. I pulled up the collar of my fur and snuggled myself inside. We were now into the dark night, lit up by the glittering lights from the restaurant.

  ‘Here we are, darling!’ Ralph said, opening the car door and holding my back, then supporting my arm as I climbed into the front seat. Then he slammed the door shut and smartly walked around the front of the car, sitting himself in.

  ‘I don’t like the look of that sky,’ he said, bending his head and looking out into the pitch-black treacherous night. ‘We should be home within the half-hour,’ he said, switching on the car engine and pulling off, heading us for home.

  The car radio was playing and Paul Robeson crooned softly, making me sigh out in deep contentment. I inched closer to Ralph and snuggled in beside him, resting my hand on his leg and then moving it gently, caressing the softness of the trouser material and feeling the strength of his muscles and the heat of his thigh underneath. Then I let my hand wander up to his chest, feeling the hardness of it, and slowly went around and down to his stomach. I could hear Ralph take in a deep breath. ‘You are so manly,’ I murmured, speaking into his neck.

  ‘Darling,’ he whispered, laughing. Then he slowed down and dropped his mouth against my ear, breathing, ‘If you keep that up, we will both end up wrapped around a tree.’

  ‘OK,’ I sighed, leaving my hand resting on his chest.

  He turned slightly, giving my head a quick kiss while keeping his eyes on the road, then slammed the gears up a notch and we roared off into the night.

  The car purred up the drive and Ralph stopped, getting out to open the front door. Then he came around to my side and opened the car door, helping me out. ‘You go along in, darling. I will drive around the back and put the car away,’ he said, walking quickly and getting back into the car.

  I walked into the hall and looked back, seeing a flash of lightning. Then suddenly I could hear a roar of thunder in the distance. ‘Right, upstairs and out of all this finery,’ I muttered to myself, making my way upstairs. I stepped out of the dress and stood in my long petticoat that goes with the frock. Hmm, that’s even lovely enough to go out in, I thought admiringly, looking at myself in the full-length wardrobe mirror.

  I hung up the frock carefully on a wooden hanger that was covered in a thick cloth, then stripped out of the rest of my clothes. Then I put the black-satin shoes in the shoe rack at the side of the wardrobe and took out my earrings, putting them back into their little satin-lined Cartier box. Right, what will I wear for bed? I thought, going through my night things. No, not them, no cotton stuff for me, I thought, fingering the pyjamas and nightdresses. Not after having my body caressed by that delicious silk all evening. Then I lifted up the box with the long silk nightdress and matching gown. Perfect, I thought, lifting it out of its box and letting it waft to its full length. I put it against my face, feeling the soft silk melt into my skin. Lovely, I’ll wear this. Anyway, it will be nice for Ralph to see me in it. I put my eye on it as we strolled around that very expensive shop in Paris. He bought it for me, grinning, saying, ‘You do appreciate the fine things in life, darling. No matter what you may say to the contrary.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I had said, glaring at him.

  ‘Well, you complain how frightful the prices are, but here we are, I am happy to say. You appreciate one must pay for quality, that is all, my love!’ he said, staring at me until I understood. Then he went marching off through the store, keeping a hold of me on one side while the other was weighed down carrying all my lovely-looking and very expensive stuff. It was all nestled inside a load of smashing-looking carrier bags. Pity I can’t bring them back to Dublin with me. ‘Shopping in Paris, darlings!’ I could tell the neighbours as I swan up the street with my nose in the air. That should put a sock in their gob. I’m not exactly their favourite neighbour. Well, I wasn’t when Sarah was young. Not with the crowd of kids around the house and all the shouting that used to go on. My voice being the loudest. Hmm, they would love to have gotten a petition up to get rid of me, only I own the house. They must be bored these days; it’s too quiet!

  Right, enough letting the mind wander. Get going and have a quick freshen-up, a nice hot bath before I climb into these divine things. ‘The latest silk nightwear from gay Paris!’ I sang, then grabbed up my wash things, making my way out the door, heading for the bathroom.

  That’s better, I thought, looking at my scrubbed face shining back at me in the mirror. Right, now to take the hair down. Pity, but it’s had its day out, now get back to normal. I took out the diamanté slides I bought . . . Ralph bought on our shopping trip, and loosened the curls, letting it fall down. Yes, that is better. Gawd, I am going to have to get used to it looking this length. Myself and the gorgeous gigolo hairdresser had an almighty tussle. ‘Non! It is impossible to do something with diss! You must cut!’ I was outraged and caused a scene . . . Lucky Ralph was not there! It was most unseemly! Dearie me, he would not have approved. Meself and the gigolo were dug out of each other with the whole salon, all the madames, staring on in horrified silence at the foreigner with the hair nearly trailing the floor! Oh, well, it’s gone now. It hangs just above my waist. Hmm. I like it! I thought, staring at the back of myself. It feels lovely and light.

  Right, twist it into a knot and pin it on the back of my head. Lovely, I must say, I do look . . . a bit more polished! Parisian! Hmm, I better get a bit more poise to go with it, though. That would mean keeping quiet, smiling enigmatically like the Mona Lisa, developing a bit of grace . . . Jaysus! I would be dead and buried by the time I get that far. Forget it. I am Martha Long, a woman of many faces. I can be what I want, when I want. But only when it suits me! I am capable of all these things when necessary. But I am what I am, I am Martha Long. So fuck it, the world takes me as I am. I can stand with the best of them, and I have. Good! Be yourself. Now for a dash of perfume, seeing as the feminine side rages madly at the minute!

  I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing a softness in my eyes. They glittered! Passion! I thought. Yes, that’s what love does to you. It softens you up in preparation for motherhood. Wily old nature! Well, I’m not going against it. Oh, no! I most certainly am more than ready to have myself impregnated with Ralph’s babies! But so far – nothing. It may be he does not want marriage! My heart did a nosedive. No, chin up, as the old British would say. It will be what it will be. I am ready for anything.

  11

  I wafted down the stairs, feeling the silk cling to my curves as it slinked around me. Then it hit me! Wonder should I wear the diamonds? They’d go with the silk? No, don’t be daft. I’m supposed to be dressed for bed. Anyway, you took the hairdo out and scrubbed all the war paint off. Forget it! You look a million dollars in this thing.

  I made my way along the hall, listening to the wind howling around the house. It rushed at the heavy front door, clawing its way underneath, then whooshed its way down the hall, catching my negligee at the ends and swooping it up, sending it billowing out behind me. I could hear the rain beating down and I gave a sudden shiver. Jaysus, I’m glad I’m not out in that.

  I could hear the sound of soft classical music
coming from the sitting room and saw a light showing under the door. Good, he’s still up. I opened the door, feeling a smile instantly on my face. It was the sight of the room looking so warm and cosy and welcoming. I looked at the fire, seeing the logs glowing red and the flames shooting up as the wind caught it, sending out the delicious smell of country pine. The room was shaded in a lovely rosy-pink glow coming from the two lamps sitting on tables, one behind each sofa. Then the music changed, lifting the soft, gentle atmosphere of the room into a more strident feel. It was Vivaldi and The Four Seasons.

  Where’s Ralph? I looked around and saw him standing at the window, staring at me with a slow smile on his face. He was smoking a cigar.

  ‘Oh! I didn’t see you for a minute. I must be going blind!’ I said, getting a shock at seeing he was suddenly there.

  ‘Yes, darling, I was simply admiring how heavenly you look,’ he said, letting his eyes travel the length of me before coming to rest on my face. I watched as he slowly lowered his head back, taking a deep puff on the cigar, then blew the smoke out, never taking his eyes off me. I knew he was roused by the way he was acting, slow and sensual. But he hasn’t made a move to come and greet me with a kiss, or touch me. That means he doesn’t trust himself.

  I knew I could go to him but immediately I could feel myself filling up with emotions going in all directions. It made me feel shy. Yet I felt I could be the one in control. But I don’t want that. I don’t want to seduce him. I want him as a husband. He has to come to me. I felt tongue-tied. Not knowing how I should behave. My emotions are going crazy. I want him to grab me. Well, not that. But I want him to make passionate love to me and declare his undying love. Ask me to marry him. Bloody hell, my heart is flying. The man must be made of bleedin steel! No, he is highly disciplined. Very mature, knows what he wants and is, above all, a gentleman. A good old-fashioned knight in shining armour. Bloody hell, don’t stand like a fool, Martha. Do something! Wonder do I look a fool?

  I took in a deep breath, saying, ‘May I have one of my cigarillos, please?’

  He looked at me, raising his eyebrow, then let a little smile part his lips. That came out wrong, I thought. I sounded like a bleedin schoolteacher!

  ‘Yes, of course,’ he said, walking to the mantelpiece and taking one down. ‘They are here, waiting for you, darling! I didn’t forget,’ he said, shaking his head and giving me a smile. The sudden smile showing his dimples and white teeth, and the lovely green eyes looking so soft and sexy, nearly buckled my knees. I could feel myself begin to sink down with a bit of weakness and flopped down on the sofa.

  Suddenly a flash of lightning lit up the window as the rain tore against it.

  ‘Shall I draw the curtains, darling? Are you frightened of the storm?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t bother me,’ I said, not wanting to talk about a storm. I wanted to talk about love!

  ‘I see you have slipped into something more comfortable,’ he said, grinning down at me from his place now leaning on the mantelpiece, with the elbow resting there.

  ‘Yes, very comfortable,’ I sniffed. ‘But I see you don’t like it. It seems to keep you away from me,’ I heard myself say, wishing I could keep my mouth shut.

  ‘Oh! Oh, darling, I am so sorry, please forgive my rudeness. Would you like a drink?’

  I looked up at him, seeing him now in his gentleman role. Good manners! But where’s Ralph the man? He still hasn’t even given me a hug! ‘Yes,’ I sighed, feeling fed up. I suppose after that big dinner in that very grand and incredibly expensive restaurant I thought he was feeling very amorous towards me. But no, it’s keep the bleedin distance time!

  ‘Won’t be a tick, darling,’ he said, taking himself out of the room.

  I snorted out me breath and lifted my legs, flinging them onto the sofa. The silk swam away and drifted down to land in a liquid pool of sheer shimmering mass. Then it clung to me, outlining every curve I had. I dropped my arm behind my head and sucked on my cigarillo, thinking I look like a dying swan when I really want to look like Mae West in one of her Hollywood 1930s films. How would she have handled this? I know. She would have gone over to him, slowly smoking and stood blowing it in his earhole, saying in her husky voice, ‘Well, honey, how do you want me, lookin like this?’ she would say, whipping her arm, pointing at herself. ‘Or would you like me with nothing on but the radio?’ Then blow the rest of the smoke in his face and stand back waiting. Fuck! I’m no good at that!

  The door opened and he appeared in carrying a bottle and two glasses. His eyes lit on me. I heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘Goodness, you look . . .’

  ‘What? What do I look?’ I said, not able to take the tension. He wouldn’t bloody finish!

  He poured the drinks, saying nothing, then handed me a glass of wine.

  ‘Thank you,’ I muttered, now completely fed up.

  He saw this and moved over to his own spot on the sofa, pulling up his legs and stretching them. Then he pinned his eyes on me, thinking. ‘You look very desirable, darling,’ he murmured, smiling as his eyes wandered down me.

  I took a sip of my wine and sucked on my cigarillo, thinking of Mae West. I blew the smoke in his direction, saying, ‘Is that why you are keeping your distance, honey?’

  He looked at me with a sudden grin on hearing the American accent and seeing the pose I struck. Then he laughed and said, ‘Who are you now, my love? This is not you speaking!’

  I spluttered on the drink, feeling a drop go down the front of my chest, and hopped up. ‘Feck ye anyway!’ I shouted, rubbing it with my hand before it ruined the silk. Then glared at him with the rage for spotting quick as a flash I was ‘Abbey Acting’.

  He roared laughing, saying, ‘Darling, I always told you, you should be on the stage! You are a natural!’ he roared, throwing his head back, giving an almighty laugh.

  Then another flash hit the window and with that there was an almighty roar of thunder. I looked, and his head went to the window, seeing more lightning.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It has been coming all day.’

  ‘That sounds like a bloody hurricane,’ I said, ‘not a simple storm!’

  He sighed, then said, ‘You are upset with me, darling. Is it because you think I am neglecting you?’

  ‘Yes!’ I roared.

  ‘Oh, darling, look, look over there. You see, I have prepared that for us.’

  I looked over to see the round supper table set with a white-linen tablecloth. A tray sat on top covered with a white-linen cloth, and the table was set with plates and cutlery.

  ‘Madame Bouclé prepared us some supper, darling. She knew we would be dining out, so she assumed we would be having a late night,’ he said, sounding like his heart was breaking after all the efforts he went to.

  I looked, seeing it now. ‘I never noticed that before,’ I said. ‘Oh, thank you, Ralph. You are very good to me, and that is really very thoughtful of her,’ I said. ‘Yes, I’m actually feeling a bit hungry now,’ I said, getting up and sashaying over to take a look.

  He came up behind me and stood while I pulled off the cloth. ‘Delicious! A lovely cheese tart and some sandwiches,’ I said. ‘We can have it with our wine.’

  ‘Yes, darling. Take a seat,’ he said, pulling out the chair for me and sitting me into it. Then he bent down and kissed the back of my neck. ‘You look like a goddess, my darling,’ he whispered into my neck, letting his hands slide on my shoulders, feeling my skin under the silk.

  My heart did a tango and instantly my body went mad with the heat as my passion roared back into life. Then he went to the window, drawing the drapes across, leaving the storm to get on with its business without us seeing, only hearing the muffled sounds that were dulled by the thick walls. The fire crackled in the grate, hissing from the sap in the wood, and soft music wafted over from the radio. It filled me with such contentment I felt like I was in paradise.

  ‘That was lovely,’ I said, sitting back in my chair and sipping on my wine. ‘I think
I will have one of my roll-ups,’ I said, getting up to collect them from the mantelpiece.

  ‘I shall remove this and clear the table. You sit and relax, darling. I won’t be long,’ he said, stacking everything on the tray then heading out of the room.

  The thunder seemed to get louder and I could see streaks of lightning beaming a shadow across the wall as the sky lit up behind the curtains, showing a shock of blue and white. I sat smoking, looking over to the window and staring at the drapes. I could hear the dulled sound of the thunder getting nearer as the storm seemed to draw closer. Fuck! I hope the house is not hit! Ralph better put down that cutlery. I should go and see what’s happening! Don’t be silly, he’s knows better than you. The man is an experienced doctor. Right!

  Suddenly I wished he would hurry up. I didn’t feel so comfortable any more. I was just about to get up when the door opened and he appeared. I smiled happily up at him. ‘Do you hear that storm, Ralph? It sounds closer and it’s getting worse! Do you think there is any danger of the house being hit?’ I said, looking up at him, feeling very worried.

  ‘No, darling,’ he laughed. ‘We are perfectly safe here. The house is fitted with a lightning rod! Oh, you are frightened, my poor love. Come here,’ he said, sitting himself down beside me and taking me in his arms.

  ‘Oh, that’s better,’ I said, curling into him as I lifted my legs, throwing them across his lap.

  ‘You are lovely,’ he said, lying back and resting his eyes on me.

  I had my face very close to him and I stared at him, examining the shape of his face and the colour of his skin, and his lips that screamed for me to kiss them. I lifted my hand and stroked his cheek, feeling the soft texture, yet getting the manly feel of him. His hand was resting on my thigh and he started to stroke it, saying, ‘Darling, I want to be close to you. Tell me about you.’