by Martha Long
‘Ralph, you have managed to find a way in to tear down my defences, temporarily anyway, leaving me exposed. I think as we are on that path we should continue. What about you? You have taken vows. What are they? Poverty, chastity and obedience. Let us take the obedience. Yes, you take orders. You must do, and go, where you are ordered. I would say you do. Poverty! How do you rationalise, reconcile this –’ I said, waving my hand around the place, taking in everything, including what we were both wearing ‘– your lifestyle, Ralph, with your vow of poverty?’
‘This is not my lifestyle as a priest,’ he said quietly. ‘It is as I told you, Martha. I am on sabbatical. So technically I am keeping my vows as a priest. Whilst now I am living as a private person,’ he said.
‘Hmm. Very Jesuitical, splitting hairs, as the Dominicans would say, Ralph. What about your celibacy? That is a Church rule also, a man-made one. It is not the teaching of the Christ I follow! He said nothing about this when he asked his followers to grow his kingdom here on earth. Begin the first Roman Catholic Church. I don’t know what kind of God you pray to. But mine is a lot kinder. He is much more benign and loving, more forgiving. Your God is a very cruel God. He terrorises you into an unnatural way of life. You believe you will what, Ralph? What will your God do to you to wreak vengeance down on your head if you break your vows?’
He looked at me, saying, ‘You are right. It is vows I have taken as a priest. I am a member of the Roman Catholic Church. I do believe I am anointed by God to do his holy will.’
‘I already said, Ralph, this is not the word of God. He did not ask his followers to take a vow of chastity. So what is it you are about, Ralph? You want to do good? Let us see, you abandoned me twice when I needed your help. Not knowingly. It was simply pure ignorance. You looked at me but you did not see me. I spoke to you but you did not hear my plea for help. So why? Because you have spent so many bloody years closeted away in an institution studying for an elite order of priests who practically rule the Church. Oh, yes, Ralph. Very elite, your order. It takes years before ordination is even considered. You leapt the years because you were already a doctor. But do you know? Your ignorance came from too much bloody learning! You spend too much time thinking. You have educated yourself out of the real world. Everything is so complicated, you believe what you have been brainwashed into believing. I believe if you really wanted to do good, and I do not question your integrity for one minute, but I think quite simply you would have been better served as a married man.
‘You could have done good with a wife. Had children, helped them to grow and develop, and sent them into the world as caring, loving people who would make a difference simply through their kindness, caring and even your good manners. It would all help to make the world a better place. I think you hide behind your chastity just like you do with your poverty! Your obedience? Well, you have told them to go and fuck themselves, because here you are taking private time for yourself, doing what you want to do. Oh, you can cloak it in more technical terms, call it a “sabbatical”! But it is the same thing. A married woman or man can’t tell their partner, “Sorry, dear! I am off for a sabbatical! See you in a year!” Because it is not part of the marriage contract. The Church can bend and go whichever way the wind blows them good fortune. That is why they have survived for over two thousand years! They are the masters of Machiavellian skulduggery!
‘So, to sum up, Ralph, I believe you are afraid of life! Oh, you say you want me. You want to make love to me. But that is all in your head, Ralph. I have no doubt you desire me, you love me. But it is at a distance. You do not really love me, you do not really desire me. Not me, Martha Long. You want me because I am a woman, I am here and I am available to you! Because you are a hot red-blooded male. But that is it. You cling to your vows because they are your saviour. You spent too many years locked away in a boarding school as a boy. In your own way, you are no different to me. The poor little rich boy, while I am the poor little street kid. You got the privileges; I got the street sense. But we both have a lot in common. Neither of us had a home life. No, very few of the wealthy ruling classes did! So you are playing games with me, Ralph. Well, let the games end. I am going home to start my new life. I will probably marry before the year is out and start a family. So enough said. I bid you goodnight,’ I said, looking at his struck-dumb stone face.
He just sat and stared, wondering where I came out of and where is Martha Long? I felt like laughing.
Suddenly he blinked, raised his eyebrows and said, ‘I am going for a drink. Please excuse me.’
I watched as he stood up, taking to his heels, and marched out the door, leaving a draught behind him he swung it open so hard. I could hear the thud of his footsteps on the carpeted stairs as his presence faded out of the room, leaving only a cold sense of foreboding in its wake.
I sat still, staring at the door, not moving. My hard shell that had masked my inner softness, my deep love and need for him, started to crumble. It is happening almost as quickly as it appeared. I could feel a panic begin to raise itself. I had spent my anger. Now I wanted him back. I need him, but a terrible fear was hitting me. We have crossed a line too far. I have moved into territory where I didn’t belong. Tapped into something that was too private for him to even acknowledge. He did the same to me, so I went straight for his jugular. I homed in on his weakness. Yes, I may have spoken the truth, but what has the truth to do with anything? I have laid us both bare. Left us naked. Now we are both exposed. The relationship we have developed slowly, coming from our past history together, had accelerated very quickly in the weeks we have spent together. We had grown very close, developed a bond that tied us almost like a couple but without the deep intimacy of sex. Yet in spite of that, or perhaps because of that, we had grown very close. We were almost inseparable. We only parted to sleep, each going to their own room.
I have grown to love him very deeply. I admire him in so many ways. I know he feels the same. He has really cherished me. I have grown as a woman, become much more aware of my own deep femininity. Something I was not really conscious of before because I was always running to provide. Since I was a young adult I have been a responsible mother. I didn’t have time to think about my own needs. I didn’t have a man in my life to bring out the woman in me. I was simply Martha, the person, the mother, the woman, who wanted to get on in life. Now that side of me has run its course. My days of mothering ended when Sarah grew wings and flew the nest. My past caught up with me, and I faced it in a mental hospital. Or rather managed, I think, to acknowledge I do have problems. So be it, I am moving beyond that now. I needed to look to the future. Start a new life. The old one is dead. It is all now part of my experience. It has gone into what I have, and will, become.
Sergei asked me to marry him. It was then the realisation hit me. Yes, of course, I do want to marry again, I do want a family. I desperately want that. I desperately want a man in my life to love and make me feel loved. So I took my courage in my hands and came here. To meet the only man I have ever loved. I knew it was a huge risk. I could have made a thundering fool of myself. I could have been rejected. I was not sure if I could handle that. My near fast exit from this world is still terribly fresh. I could relapse with maybe no way back. But I feel an inner strength, a drive to push and take risks, and the devil may care! I was back to my old nature. Be afraid but do it anyway! Because the rewards are great.
So here I am. It was better beyond my wildest dreams. I have been so happy. I had a growing awareness he may yet choose to marry me. I understood perfectly he needed time to arrive at such a decision. His life as it is did not happen overnight. It took years for him to arrive where he is now. He has been a priest for a very long time but now he is here to question his way of life. He was trying to work out if it held any real purpose for him any more. But you put the spanner in the works by accelerating the whole process. Not just that but you confronted him about things on a very deeply emotional level that he was not anywhere near to even recognising! He ha
s a deep inner loneliness that he covers up through being a caring doctor, the ministering priest, by helping others. He reaches out to people. But he does not recognise he is not helping his own inner deep emptiness. He must have been a sad little boy, only seeing his family during holidays. His mother was away a lot. She was not exactly the maternal type. Very lovely but a bit of a social butterfly. The children had Nanny!
Martha, you are a fool. Your relationship was most certainly not strong enough, or cemented enough in time, to allow you to push that far. Now you have thrown down the gauntlet to him. You have shown a side he was not aware of. He still sees you in his mind’s eye as the little waif. The young girl who grew to become his lovely young ‘rosebud’. He used to call you that. He thinks now you are the same girl who has grown into the woman he thought he knew. The soft, loving, feminine, vulnerable woman who has been ill in a mental hospital. But she has pulled through. I am still the same Martha he has always loved, the one who does not make too many demands on him. The one who shares his loneliness, but he is not aware of that bit. It is not something he would dwell on as a public schoolboy – stiff upper lip, old chap. A mature man, a doctor and a priest of a very elite order! They are certainly trained to keep the old stiff upper lip!
So you blew the whole bleedin thing up with a keg of dynamite. You are not the woman he thought he knew! You who has stirred up a whole hornets’ nest! He has no choice but to tell you, I am sorry, dear, but I cannot meet your need for a commitment. No, I do not want to marry. Frankly, my dear, I would find it difficult to handle you. You reach into places I would not care to tread, thank you very much. Good day to you! Please shut the door on your way out! You may ask directions in the village to the train station. The locals are very helpful around here. Nice to have met you again, as he smartly produces his hand to give me a firm handshake, then turns on his heels, leaving me to shut the door after me. I make me way down the drive, getting buckled over with the heavy suitcase.
I stopped to think about this, getting that extreme picture. But it would be all the same – rejection is rejection. Then I suddenly roared laughing at the picture, more out of fright than anything. I could feel the panic of loneliness, of being lost, getting abandoned – the terrible fear of it hammering inside my chest. I wanted to jump up and run down the stairs, crying, No, don’t leave me. I’m sorry! Please, I didn’t mean any of them things! I don’t know what came over me. I am a right eejit! I do push like that; it’s the only way I know. Believe it or not, I did it because I love you. I actually said all those things because I wanted to get close to you. I wanted us to push our relationship to a deeper level! The problem is, I have always known what I wanted from you. I have always loved you. But you are ten steps behind me. You always were. I wanted to tear the priest away from the Church and even fight God for you! Your God! Because you belong to me and you need me. I understand you. I have had glimpses of the man behind the masks. But you do not know or understand any of this. You think the priest in you is the only way for you to be happy. But that priest makes the man you are barren. He does not allow you to live and love and take risks and cry like a man. You could do this with a woman! Me! Because I would devote my life to making you happy. Because you would be my whole world! With you by my side, I would fear nothing. I would reach for the stars, taking you with me. We would carry each other. I could make you happy, or die trying.
But I did not run or say any of these things. I sat still, staring at the floor. No, I can’t run to him screaming in terror. Don’t walk away and abandon me! Please! Don’t leave me all on my own! I can’t bear the empty silence in a world where I don’t belong. I don’t matter. I have no one to call my own.
No, because that is the child screaming in terror. I am not a child; I am a woman. But not even the woman can tell him her real reasons for doing that to him. Because we had not arrived at that intimate point where he knew it was safe to listen, because he trusted me. No, he had opened some very deep old wounds and I turned around and knifed him back, killing our relationship before it had a chance to strengthen.
I lifted my head, feeling the tears running down my cheeks, and wiped them away with the back of my hand, looking around me. I listened to the silence, hearing the emptiness and knowing it was telling me I was now on my own. Nobody is going to come, there is nothing to expect. I stirred, then it hit me. I can have some comfort, have a cigarette.
I got up and grabbed my smokes, rolling one up and lighting it. My mind flitted on the idea that maybe he will come to me and it won’t be so bad. Maybe it is just the fear in me that thinks I have pushed him away. Then my heart started to drop. No, I saw the look on his face. He was icy cold. I had shocked and pushed him too far. I know him, he has iron discipline. He will react as he has been trained to do. Look coldly and clinically, deal with the facts. This woman is now making complications in my life. She is getting too close. She wants marriage. This is impossible. I must be free of this. So, yes, no doubt about it, Martha, you will be given your marching orders.
You fucking eejit! Or are you? Think again, why did you really push? There are a million reasons for doing just one thing. I have looked at some of my reasons. But the bottom line is, Martha, you pushed because you are here to see if Ralph wanted to share his life with you. That is the real reason you went for the jugular, knowing it was the wrong time, but you were not out of control. You knew exactly what you were doing. Yes! You damn well faced it head on, which is the person you are! Good, bad or indifferent, you face things head on. He does not! He could afford to toy with you, he thinks. He knows he can go back to being a priest, but he also thought perhaps marriage was a possibility with me. So how long would it have taken him to arrive at his decision?
Yes, Martha, that was the unspoken question. You knew it but did not push yourself to face it. But it was there, and you knew if you did not face him with it, you could have been left waiting at his pleasure only to be told sometime in the future, Sorry, Martha. I have decided to remain a priest. By then I would have lost the opportunity of moving on. It would be too fucking late! Right! So face it, Martha. You have done what you came here to do. Find out if the man wants you! Tomorrow is another day. Prepare yourself for the worst. You know what you have to do then!
Right! Good! I thought, putting out my cigarette butt in the ashtray and climbing into bed. I switched off the light and slid under the covers, enjoying the silky warmth of the gown. Suddenly I realised just how tired I was. My eyes started to feel very heavy and I was out like a light.
13
I woke up to see light streaming in the window. The storm was over. It looks like a nice morning now, grand and calm.
I looked around the room, feeling something strange. Then it hit me. Ralph! I have to face him. Oh, dear God, grant that everything will be OK. If I have to go home without him in my life, I will get on with it. But me heart was leppin at the fear. I hope there won’t be awful tension, a terrible atmosphere, with us creeping around each other. That would come to no good end.
I lay still for a minute, waiting for my heart to slow down, then put my legs out of the bed and made to get my wash things. Madame Bouclé always leaves out lovely big fluffy towels. So maybe I will take my time in the bath and try to relax myself. Find an inner place where I can get a bit of peace and deal with whatever happens. Take it all calmly, yeah, resigned. Then move on to Plan B – Sergei! He knows I don’t love him but he is willing to make a go of it. OK, why not? Love grows out of respect and a willingness to work together towards a common goal!
Ah, fuck, Martha! Will you stop your carry-on? Of course love matters! Ah, shut the fuck up, Martha. That’s only Plan B. Look at that when you have to! Snort! I was beginning to feel really annoyed with myself. Jaysus! My nerves are gone!
Right, take it easy. Have your lovely bath, take one thing at a time. OK, good plan! I headed myself off to the bathroom feeling better with that thought. It managed to get me moving.
I put on a pair of jeans and a blac
k polo-neck mohair sweater; it was lovely and big and went down past my arse. Then I put in my gold stud earrings. I have worn those for years. I bought them for myself as a present for my eighteenth birthday. I brushed out my hair, seeing it was lovely and shiny. Still not a grey hair and me now hit the thirties. Right, I decided to leave it down and just pulled it up at the sides, sticking a long brown hair slide across to keep it in place. Then I made my way cautiously down the stairs. I need time to get my bearings, see the lie of the land before I come face to face with Ralph.
My heart thumped as I stood ready with my hand on the doorknob to open it. I took in a deep breath, lifting my chest, and pushed open the door. The room looked empty! Madame was at her usual place over by the stove but there was no sign of Ralph.
I went in slowly, closing the door, feeling my heart begin to thump then a sinking feeling as it hit my stomach. He’s not here! Wonder where he is? Suddenly I felt very anxious to see him. I made to turn just as Madame looked straight over at me, saying, ‘Bonjour, Madame!’
Oh! I forgot to greet her, very bad manners. It wouldn’t do to upset her as well. I walked back into the room, saying, ‘Bonjour, Madame Bouclé!’, giving her a little bow of my head.
She put out her arm with a tea towel hanging off it, waving me to sit. I hesitated, wanting to get out and look for Ralph. But then I just smiled and sat myself down. Maybe he will come in, he might have heard me. But I didn’t hear any sound of him. Wonder what the fuck he’s up to? Maybe he’s gone to the village to get a newspaper. He’s always around when I come down for breakfast! He never leaves the house without telling me.
Right, calm down, take it easy, I’m in a worse state than I thought I was.
‘Madame!’ she said. I looked up to see her with a steaming hot plate in her hand. She was holding it with a tea towel. I leaned back and she landed it in front of me. Then a basket of hot rolls. Lovely with a mug of tea.
